Treason and treachery

{The rain is beating down hard against the glass slider as Rhage steps out on the balcony, the collar of his leather trench turned up against the elements, blond hair plastered down wetly to his movie-star face} <<you owe me for this one, V...Wrath hears I went AWOL, I'll get my ass handed to me>> {the tip of the hand-rolled between my lips glowing a red ember, dragging the Turkish tobacco down into my lungs, speaking on a slow exhale of aromatic smoke} Shouldn't take more than twenty minutes, true. Tory and I are going nowhere, not with Mr Congeniality here to entertain us, feel me? {lips pulled into a fanged smile, jerking my goatee'd jaw in the direction of Zsadist, who is stood, back to the wall beneath the narrow lintel, failing miserably to keep the driving rain off his twisted features...breaking Wrath's house arrest would mean expulsion from the Brotherhood, a rythe at best and an execution order if you really managed to piss off his Royal Wrathness...so, no, Tory and I were staying the fuck put...and then Rhage is gone, dematerializing to Laehsandra's address, leaving me propping up the doorjamb with one heavy shoulder, rain splashing the steel toes of my shitkickers, diamond gaze cutting over to Z, his scarred face drawn in hard lines of concentration, the stuff of dark fucking nightmares, rain dripping off the end of his nose, the slave bands on his wrists showing as he pares a Granny Smith on the blade of a pocketknife, the skin peeling away in one long, continuous spiral. Fuck...Z and his twin were the unlucky bastards who pulled Caith's mutilated body from the dumpster down by the river. The polaroids alone were made up of PTSD. And that's what's on the Brother's mind right now...Caith's broken face, the ball-gag rammed into her bruised mouth..that and memories of the humiliations the Mistress subjected him to. Not that the personal shit ever came up in the brief exchanges that passed for conversation with the brother} I didn't kill her Z {the Brother's head cranks up slow, the scar running down his face pulling his lip into that sinister perma-sneer} <<Get out of my fucking head V. Doesn't matter what I think>> {His head drops back down to the apple in his hands, I raise my voice above the driving beat of the rain} Fuck, Z, it's wild out here. Come inside {yeah..we both know that's not happening. Just a curt nod of his savagely skull-trimmed head, the Brother doesn't even lift his eyes from the blade this time} <<I'm good here>> {another deep drag on the hand-rolled, sucking the smoke into my lungs like it's oxygen, before trying again} Inside, Z, the penthouse isn't...{isn't what? a torture chamber of sexual depravity, a grim reminder of your fucked up past? A one way ticket to a padded cell and a lifetime of psychotherapy?} it isn't what it used to be, true...Tory and I made changes... {diamond gaze flicking away to the Caldwell skyline..no need to mention our secret Chapel...} we cleaned the place up..for the sake of the young, feel me? {coal-black eyes lifting slowly to mine, tortured, sad eyes, a hand scrubbed over that tight skull-trim, but when Z seems about to speak, nothing comes out of that twisted mouth...nonetheless his thoughts, the self loathing hopelessness that blackens the Brother's soul invades my brain unbidden...fuck...it's not the dungeon...not even that he believes I murdered that female.. Jesus...it's the young?...Zsadist tugs self-consciously at the cuffs of his leather jacket...fuck... Z's been playing vampire sculpture out here on the balcony all this time because he won't have his scarred, slave-branded self anywhere near our young...terrified his mutilated face would make them cry...that the corrosive filth inside him would somehow contaminate their innocence. Oh. God...clearing the tangled knot from my throat, legs carrying me out onto the rain soaked balcony with all the grace of a robot, to stand beside Zsadist, the sole of one shitkicker braced back against the wall, exhaling slow, diamond eyes focussed on the hand-rolled burning down between gloved fingers...however fucked up your shit might be, there's some poor bastard got it worse, true...so there we stand, two fucked up gargoyles.... side by side, silent in the Caldwell rain... }

*The words dont quite reach my ears, the conversation once more too low for me to catch and blending with the heavy pound of rain as it lashes the windows, plastering a warrior to the wall with its driving force. I dont want to know what they're talking about, my mind is crowded already with the weight of the accusations, and now Laea? Gone? How can I care for small talk when a prison break is running through my head and the future is looking steadily bleaker....I care not for repercussions, I'm not a member of the Brotherhood, there will be no expulsions, maybe a slap on the wrist and a further imprisonment...and death? Not thinking of it. If I can find her, the rest would be worth it, and I'm counting on the clemency of a King I dont believe would take a mother from her young. It's only when V joins his fallen brother out on the balcony and the blonde warrior's presence is truly gone from my home that my feet carry me in battered military boots through the door to our Chapel. Quick hands fitting my blades and sheathes to my torso, strapping weapons to skin in a beautiful fusion of steel and flesh, V's tee shirt tugged down in a cotton conceal to hide the lethal nature of my razor jewelry, the fresh scent of newly laundered fabric rising up with the billow of the shirt as it skims my thighs with every step...a deep breath, a backwards glance, the faint strains of V's Turkish tobacco curling around to tickle my nose, dematerialising on an exhalation and a whispered prayer that everything turns out right....taking form in the back gardens of Laea's neat little townhouse, all seems quiet, nothing stirs but a few mice hurrying home with their findings, and I waste no time appreciating the freedom, or the quaint homeliness of the settings, taking the wrought iron staircase fixed to the back, leading up to her room, my steps silent even in haste. There was no way to demat to the top, or inside, a pain, but she'd had one too many clients think to visit her at home...I like Laea..is the thought that crosses my mind as fingers seek the small, second of it's kind key, hidden...just...there...wedged into a hole in the wall, like the Labyrinth, you couldnt see it unless you knew what you were looking for, illusion keeping her safe...a stranger could make a pass for the handle a million times, always seeing it a few inches past where it actually was, and rusty as I was, it takes me three times to get the key in the lock before the door swings wide and I set to rifling through her tidy, oh so very normal room..no latex, no toys, only frills and patterns that I sidestep and flick over with a crinkle in my nose, seeking with touch over a desk..eyes can betray you in Laea's world, nothing would be in plain sight, but I know the book she keeps, not dissimilar to one I burned and it's that I'm looking for...the eerie silence of an uninhabited house is broken by the shrill ring of the phone, startling my body to a jump and heart pound of shock* fuck...*I let it ring out as I crouch down, fingers running under papers, grazing a thick leather bound book, the VM connecting and a deep male voice filling the room with its dominance...my brow raises, my lip curling*<<Your Master decreed your presence but two nights ago, Laehsandra. You humiliated your Master when you did not commit to your other sessions. You will be punished.>> *And then he cuts off, no play, no see you later, no I love you, I missed you, are you ok? My eyes roll and the growl that leaves my lips is rolled into a purr of triumph as the pages of the heavy appointment book flicker open, notes flowing in a neat scrawl around a single address...dated three nights ago...more recent appointments were blank, no notes, no 'corrections' about her performance that previous dates had in abundance...fuck Laea...what have you got yourself into? I had to tell Vishous...He didnt have his cell on him, that much I know, but at least he'll know where I am if he starts to manfreak about me leaving...as though he expected me to stay locked up while everyone else did NOTHING. Yeah..the text is short - I'm at Laea's. Kiss the young for me. I love you, Tory xxx - and then the page is ripped from its bindings...a noise...the slightest of creaks on old wood, heavy footsteps....slow rising from my crouch in a slo-mo turn, emerald eyes narrowed to meet the teal blue blaze of Beastie Boy's...this night gets fucking better...backing up, a smirk casting my face into a wicked display of fangs, the sheet of paper clutched in a hand that waves a sardonic salute at Rhage before my boots hit the top of the staircase, a single vault over the railings freeing me to demat...I only hope she's still alive as I melt to shadows*

{I have no fucking idea how long we've stood out here on the balcony, playing frozen statues, staring out on the city of Caldwell like the answers to our fucked up lives are written somewhere in all those twinkling lights..but the rain has stopped when the buzzing of Z's cell breaks the spell...and as he palms the thing to his ear, his expression changes <<Yeah Hollywood, he's here with me>> and the brother turns his back to me, facing that secretive expression into the wall, the body language loud and clear...this is a private Brotherhood conversation, and right now, much as it grates, I am excluded from that inner circle...instincts, and that look in Z's eyes telling me something bad went down at Laea's.. forced to settle for letting the Brothers handle the sitch for now...solace in the knowledge that my shellan and the twins are safe...I beat feet back inside the Penthouse to give the brother some privacy and check on Tory and the young. Making for the nursery, Tory's sanctuary since the Brotherhood invasion of our space...and all is quiet, save for Khaos and Xsykhe's snuffling breaths, deep in sleep, the macabre skelanimal mobile doing a slow rotation above the crib and casting moving shadows on the young's faces...but no Tory?...black brows pulling down low in a frown, the hairs on my nape bristling with a nasty premonition that something is way off...where the hell is Tory?...making my way to the four toys to palm the cell I'd left on the desk...the screen is lit up with a 'message received'...'I'm at Laea's. Kiss the young for me. I love you, Tory xxx'} Motherfucker!! {Tory is gone...she's broken the house arrest to check up on Laea...the sound escaping my chest is pure animal...she's out there on her own...shit!! no fucking way in hell I'm sitting here on my ass stewing while my shellan gets in over her head chasing after some psychopathic serial killer...protective instincts flaring...Fuck Wrath and his house arrest, Z won't be able to stop me, not even he's crazy enough to come between a bonded male and his mate...But, fuck, eyes darting to the nursery...I can't just leave the twins here alone...not like Zsadist will man up and play Mrs fucking Doubtfire...shit, maybe Rhage would...OH FUCK!!.. Hollywood is there...if he runs into Tory at Laea's place...that shit's gonna look real bad, true...FUCK...why didn't I just tell her?...I'd wanted to shield her from worrying about her friend...shit!! panic crashing over me, a surge of bile rising up from my gut, stalking through to our mated chamber, throwing open the weapons cabinet, pocketing ammo, holstering Glocks, sheathing daggers...brain working overtime on a plan to get the fuck out of this prison and keep the young safe...and that's my last thought before I'm tackled from behind, a mammoth pair of arms like steel fucking girders clamped around my upper arms and chest, constricting the movement of air through my lungs, barely time for the snarl to rip from my throat when I feel the sharp stab of a hypodermic, jabbing straight into my jugular...oh shit...confusion meeting the coal black depths of Zsadist's eyes.. I feel the rush of the morphine in my veins, a wave of nausea surging...panic flaring, fury pumping out adrenaline into my system...fuck...Rhage is on me like a fucking tank, restraining from behind...pivoting wildly in the iron vice of his arms, mustering strength, body jack-knifing, disengaging from Rhage's hold by sheer force of will, wheeling away on a grunt, careening into the weapons cabinet, only to turn in a crouch, shitkickers planted, assuming a fighting stance, gloved palm pressed to the puncture wound where the hypodermic pierced my jugular, rage burning in the piercing diamond accusation of my eyes, zeroed in on Zsadist and Hollywood, spitting out words} What the FUCK did you do to me!!?? {Rhage and Z are backing up, wearing expressions like they've just turned loose a man-eating tiger, my lips peeling off fangs that elongate into white knives, huge body trembling, muscles tensed up, skin breaking out in a sweat, straining against the effects of the sedative that even now my pounding heart circulates to my central nervous system, clouding my vision, distorting the room and the brother's voices to a bizarre rushing slow motion} <<He's not going down..>> <<Haver's said there was enough morphine in that syringe to floor a bull fucking rhino...he's going down Z>> {snarling, fangs bared, eyes glowing, nailing the two brothers with pure, unadulterated murder, bonding scent roaring, a pitbull off it's leash, a rabid, bonded male vampire monster} NO!! You fuckers!! Tory is out there...I have to get to her...{staggering in my shitkickers, Rhage's voice sounds like it's coming from underwater} <<Sorry V, we had no choice. We can't let you go after her...you break house arrest, you're out of the Brotherhood...and worse...>> {my pupils are pinpoints of superblack set in glazed diamond irises, senses receding to tunnel vision, hearing a distorted slow-mo} <<you're in too deep...bonded male...best way...let the Brotherhood handle this...young...taken care of....>> {Oh FUCK NO!!...they're going to kill Tory...they need me out of the way so they can take her out...body reeling...must stay fucking upright, slurring barely intelligible words} You kill her.. have to take... me down too.. {lurching forward, a hulking, stumbling monolith of warrior male.. the marble floor rushing up to meet me as the darkness sucks me down into the black vortex of unconsciousness..}