*Robotic, a line of doggen handing crate after crate over to be hauled up into the back of the van, time moved in increments of apples, shiny green sphere's tumbling about in wooden boxes as my hands steadied the wobble of one, the doggen young, determined to help despite the threat of splinters as she eagerly handed off the weight to me....if splinters were the only thing we had to worry about tonight, I would go home a pretty happy female, but as it were, a past attempt at poisoning had set us up to be the bodyguards for the ripe fruit and my body moves obediently to safely secure each and every crate, a job for the hands, not the brain, and my mind is wandering...part fixated on every move V makes, trusting that he is at least watching for lessers as his gaze tracks me head to toe, part with our young...They are so excited for the Solstice, it had taken the promise of us bringing apples home for them to get them to leave our legs long enough for us to grab the Escalade and head out...Fucking Wrath. I'm blaming him for keeping us out on a night where V isn't on rotation and our young slept through the day with us...precious time wasted, their play left in the hands of Maia, she may have delivered them, but sometimes I resented the Chosen for the time she got with them....exhaling, another box stacked against the sides and strapped into place...no bruising on the apples, His Assholishness had been very adamant about that...Stepping back as the doggen got back in their stride, hefting the last few crates up, my gaze stuck on V just as a flash of fangs sliced into the juice box perfection of a green skinned fruit and a laugh lifted my lips into an amused curve* V, are you turning into Zsadist, nallum? *the Brother was well known for his strange apple diet* 'Cause I think steak tastes better..
{gaze locked on the emerald glow of your eyes, like a deer caught in the headlights, flashing you a juice-glossed, fanged smile} fucking delicious, true...{and the tone of my voice says I'm sooo not talking about apples...or steak...the moment broken by a familiar buzz in my leathers. Tossing the apple core, hand reaching for the cell in my pocket, the bright glare of the screen hurting my retinas, thumb sweeping a smudge of apple juice from the display, fully expecting it's the doggen back at the compound looking for an ETA on the fruit consignment, but the message flashing on the screen stalls the breath in my lungs...the Penthouse alarm triggered two minutes ago... without even pausing to lift my eyes back to Tory, my fingers are punching the buttons to speed dial the fixed phone line at the Commodore.. the ring tone sounding tinny in my ears..buzzing on and on, a growl lodged in my throat... pick the fuck up Chosen... nothing..the piece of shit dumps me to voicemail... the alarm system is hair trigger sensitive..probably the incompetent Chosen burning toast or opening a secured window.. nonetheless that dark foreboding settles a heavy weight across my shoulders once more.. voice tight controlled to camo the edge of fear, but there's no denying it's in my eyes when they lift to meet Tory's} Tory...something's tripped the security system at the Penthouse... the Chosen's not picking up.. I want to get over there..now.. feel me?
*the heat that had been pulsing lust from your body froze up so fast I got frostbite, your cell near crushed with the hold on it....and I cant read your expression, your eyes arent on mine as you listen to the faint ringing tone drifting through the air...but something is wrong, the air is so frigid, the apples would be fruitsicles if they werent already stored and locked up into the van....when I finally get caught up in the ice white fear frosting in diamond eyes, dread drops lead into the pit of my stomach, doggen nudged from my path and lining my route to your side* What?!! No, she has to pick up...I taught her how to answer, how to dial...I....*panic, full blown and all consuming rushing my veins with the chill of terror...I have to go, have to get to our young....fear dampens my senses, trembles through muscles tensed with the effort of composing myself enough to demat...nothing, a buzzing in my head distorting concentration* Fuck...Follow in the Escalade...in case we need...*swallowing around the fear as a tendril of power leaks through, enough to get my head on straight and organise my route to the penthouse*...transport....*I cant even think of that...cant imagine no...nothing...clear head, clear thoughts....* Drive fast...*and then I am gone, a whisper of panicked female on the wind*
{And just like that Tory's molecules have vaporized, only the aura of her panic lingering in the night air, and I'm beating feet to the Escalade, planting ass in the leather driver seat, firing up the ignition, gripping the wheel like grim death, the engine already turning over as I slam the door, gunning down the night-lit streets that line the murky black Hudson in the direction of the Commodore, the landscape morphing from ugly industrial to sleek city chic in a blur of speed, on tenterhooks, one punching finger hovering constantly on redial, but the thing drops repeatedly to VM, a low curse escaping on a hiss as I pull up to the sidewalk outside the entrance to the luxury condos, humans and civilians spilling out of the lobby onto the pavement, a chaotic swarm of confusion in semi-dress and nightclothes, clutching pets and treasured possessions..and up above...SHIT!! gaze drawn higher, following the craning heads of the rubberneckers to the roiling black clouds of smoke billowing from the top floor of the Commodore in great yawning plumes..Fuck!..the young...ducking back into the shadows, the panic and confusion ensuring I am unwitnessed as I dematerialise up to the balcony of the Penthouse and..Jesus, the heat radiating from inside the glass sliders is blistering, the intensity reminiscent of the destruction I mete out with my cursed hand... the stiff breeze clears the smoke from the balcony and the petite blonde Chosen ghosts into focus, a beacon of white in the billowing black clouds and she is distraught, her crumpled white robes and alabaster skin streaked with soot, wheezing breaths hitched between bouts of coughing, her fragile frame bowing under the weight of..Oh God no..Khaos is a limp, lifeless burden in the Chosen's arms, head lolling down in a fall of short black spiky hair, dulled emerald-green eyes rolled back in his head...Tory's knees look about to buckle as she moves to take him in her arms, the blood running ice-water in my veins.. catching sight of a cowering, soot-streaked bundle with frightened diamond eyes.. Xsy..Xsy is alive... but Khaos...oh please no fuck..... jello legs carrying me to take our boy from Tory's shaking arms, cradling his lax little body, easing him down to balcony floor, vision swimming in and out of focus...fuck...not five years since I'd held Xsykhe in my arms and begged her to breathe, now I hold my son with the same plea...eyes locking briefly on Xsykhe's trembling form, balled up in the corner like she could make herself invisible, guilt shining out of terrified eyes.. starkly familiar diamond mirror images of my own...}
*No....denial rode through my mind, the scorching waves of heat billowing to turn the balcony into a sauna werent real, they couldnt be, the smoke clawing down our throats was just a bad nightmare that choked up lungs and turned breaths to coughing fits, sawing through our bodies like a burning blade...and I am ignoring the inferno inside, switched off from the flames threatening to shatter the glass sliders with fiery fists and swarm a devastation of orange tongues to consume every inch of us....I couldnt care less about the suite, the fire could devour it, it was the limp, lifeless form cradled in a charred Chosen's arms that held the majority of my attention....and broke my heart to screaming shards of agonised emotion...no...the only word that came to my tongue, over and over...spilling kisses to the soot blackened skin of Khaos' little face as I take our son from Maia's delicate arms, her whole body sobbing, crumpling under the weight of her distress and half leaning to my shoulder in a bid to stay upright...Fuck, dont lean on me...my knees are barely keeping me off the floor, so ready to hit the deck that your hands lifting our son from the trembling embrace of my arms is a relief...if I fall, I dont want him hurt....leather to marble tiles comes too soon for my mind to register the drop, a scrabble of tiny arms latched to my neck in a shuffle of bare feet before I'm even fully down...Xsykhe...our daughter flung into my arms in a now wailing assault of raven hair and body heaving sobs that wrack her little scorched form with violent tears* shhh.....*my hand soothes down her spine, wrapping her close as my eyes flick up to the shivering Chosen* What the fuck happened? *inching Xsykhe back from her death grip on my neck, frantic eyes check for injury, but only the black of the smoke mars her pale skin and as the Chosen rambles off broken sentences, the story unfolds in the guilty tear crystalled diamond of our daughter's eyes...fuck....anger, it was all because of a tantrum? Fighting as siblings do, over Xsy's skelanimal, a torn plushie limb a terrible casualty to our little female, that lit off...what the Chosen could only describe as sunlight, setting up the leather of the couch as a pyre for our daughter's temper and lighting the suite up in a blaze of roaring flames* fuck....*brushing tears from Xsykhe's eyes, the Chosen coughed out one last bit of panicked information before she fell into her sobbing again...the reason our son was laid out, the reason he wasnt moving, wasnt responding...was because his tiny body had been Xsy's shield as the fire raged and I cant even breathe as she whimpers her 'I'm sorry's' to the curve of my neck, a fumbled tumble of apology falling from her lips* V is he breathing? Just please tell me he's breathing....*bitten words, restraining tears I couldnt afford as Xsy is lifted into my arms in a stand shift, silent prayers rise to the Scribe Virgin with the haze of smoke lifting terror to the sky*
{On my knees, focus zeroing in on Khaos, the conversation between Tory and the Chosen filtering into my consciousness even as I clear his airway, lips sealed to his to deliver a rescue breath to fire seared lungs, the pads of my fingers seeking out the pulsing evidence of life at his carotid...and there it is..weak, thready, but a definite rhythmic displacement that kicks my own heart into a pathetic hammerbeat of hope, head whipping round to pin the females with a hard diamond stare, words spoken with grim authority} He's breathing {just..} We need to get him to Havers Tory..we need to get them all to Havers...right fucking now, true {already bundling Khaos back into my arms, rising up from my knees...we can't demat with the young... the inferno inside a deathtrap...the only way out the steel fire escape clinging to the vertiginously sheer walls of the Commodore} Can you walk, Chosen? Or should I carry you down? {the female finds her feet and we are scaling our way down the dizzying zig-zag of steel-framed ladders at breakneck fucking speed to the soundtrack of the squealing fire trucks swarming below like Khaos' toy car collection and the howling wind that beats our clothes to our bodies with icy hands that would make you long for the searing heat of the inferno blazing above our heads..the Penthouse reduced to smouldering ash... meaningless.. irrelevant.. my life is in my arms and in the souls clambering for their lives, shielded by the mhis from human attention as we make for the Escalade waiting below to get us to Havers..........}
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