Prologue – The Black Coach
Disclaimer: Don't own anything Justice League related, all belongs to DC, also don't own the quote which (along with the names I've chosen as titles) belong to Nox Arcana, any original characters I do however own.
Dedication: To all the fans of Huntress and Question that are out there
Feedback: To quote Frank from 'The Transporter' the deal is the deal rule number one lol just send feedback to me courtesy of JKuriako at hotmail dot com, thank you and enjoy.
Glasgow's Smile's Note: Warning there will be some language, implied sexual stuff and violence, don't like it then don't read please. Note this part of the story takes place before the Justice League was ever formed, but it does pertain to what will happen next.
Paring(s): Huntress/Question, and others to be announced.
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Darkness descends upon the land,
To wrap the world in night's black embrace,
The restless dead stir in their ancient tombs,
And creatures born of shadows rise,
To quench their savage hungers.
Whispers echo from the crypt,
Beckoning with the promise of dark desire,
And those who heed their call,
Are forever lost in the night… ~ Transylvania Overture ~ Nox Arcana
For Franco Bertinelli, life had been good to him, blessing with not only wealth and prestige amongst the Mafioso of Italy, but also with a family. Though he had lost his first wife Natalia to childbirth he had remarried and was graced a second time with another daughter…Helena.
Tall slim, almost gaunt like he had been told by many he resembled a young Al Pachino when the actor had portrayed the gang leader in the movie 'Scarface', a look he had 'encouraged' for lack of a better word. It was also a 'façade' that had served him well when he had taken over the Bertinelli family's businesses after his father had passed away.
It worked well not only with enemies but more importantly friends such as the Englishman seated across from him in the large dining room at his mansion. Though neither of them spoke for several moments, and although his bodyguards from Mandragora and the rest were there he always had felt a need to carry a firearm with him.
Especially when it came to the young Peter Morgan, the lord and sole inheritor of the Black estate of which he was by all accounts and records the illegitimate son of Simon Black IV, an English Lord that Morgan some said bore a strong resemblance to both in appearance and in nature.
Normally that would not have bothered Franco, who had done business with the young noble before albeit there were not had not been that many 'sit downs', most of their dealings had been done by phone or by letter.
However the more time he had spent talking to Morgan, the more he'd gotten the impression that the other man was undeniably evil and more than a little willing to sell his weapons to anyone whether it was any of the dictators and communist governments the worlds over or with organized criminals in general.
More often than naught, he'd also felt dread in his very stomach whenever his hand had met the perpetually ice cold hand of his 'associate's', especially whenever Peter had 'eyed' both Franco's wife Carmela, his eldest daughter Natasha, or the youngest of the Bertinelli family … Helena, both with a dark lustfully hungry gazed that was mixed with the manner of a snake.
That was the main reason why he had made the firm decision, to end the long and profitable arrangement between himself and Peter Morgan, the second being that he'd had grave misgivings over some of the 'items' that had been shipped into Venice, boxes that were roughly six feet long, and made entirely of wood.
He'd never ordered the coffins opened as he'd not wanted to know what the other man was into, nor had he been around them too much, due to the chill he'd gotten whenever his gaze came to rest upon them.
That was the other basis for his choice to graciously end the bargain between himself and the aristocrat who calmly ate opposite him on the other side of the table, the very idea that his occasional 'partner' was involved in the dark arts was enough to unnerve him even more than before.
Swallowing a little he got to his feet, "Pardon me Senora Morgan but I feel that for lack of a better word, it would be best if we went our separate ways."
'Peter' merely smiled as if in agreement as he finished sipping the expensive red wine before him, then dabbed at his mouth twice. "An understandable thing Franco you will not mind if I ask if this has any relation to the caskets your men transported to Venice for me earlier this week," the young noble asked with a calm and almost icy demeanor as he too stood, his manner that of a cat playing with a mouse now.
It was an action that only served to make Franco Bertinelli even more nervous, remarkably he did not let that show and instead shook his head. "I just feel it would be in my best interests and yours given the rising levels of law enforcement agencies if we parted ways."
His confederate nodded once no hint of a threat or a reprisal coming though Franco was very worried it might just happen at some point in time, "I heartily agree. A sham though, the current venture I was going to propose would have brought in three quarters of a million pounds monthly by my estimates ohh well perhaps later," With that he inclined his head in a short bow, "Do give my best to your wife and daughters Franco and thank you for such a wonderful meal and a lovely evening."
Bertinelli swallowed again nodding once to Mandragora who immediately escorted Morgan out towards the door and as they both left he sighed in relief unable to shake the feeling that, he himself had said the wrong thing and would lose much because of his polite refusal.
It was a ridiculous idea but somehow he could not shake the fact that the encounter with the Viscount of Devonshire would be one of, if not the last action he as head of the Bertinelli family would perform…
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"A terrible shame that," Steven Mandragora replied shaking his head as he escorted the younger black haired noble who turned to look at him with those dark blue eyes of his, "It sounded as if it would have been a very interesting business deal to be sure, a shame he's not thinking clearly your lordship."
Peter Morgan smiled a little, "And you are master Mandragora?" The Vice-Count asked in a polite yet compelling tone as he studied the taller and much more bulkier man whose eyes resembled black pits, "I was led to believe Franco Bertinelli 'ran' things here for lack of a better word, and that he well…gave the orders."
"If things changed," The chalk white albino began in a contemplative tone, "Would the terms still be the same?"
"Better yet if you can handle the negotiation as it were," Morgan replied before he paused, "I do believe…the amounts could be doubled if not tripled, however there is one minor stipulation."
Mandragora growled about to grab the noble by the throat all thoughts of amusement starting to fade at the thought of the damnable and arrogant lord's hesitation, "And that is?"
"A hostile takeover will be necessary; the daughters though will need to be 'escorted' out before anything untoward, were to happen to dear Franco and his wife."
Steven Mandragora smiled a nasty smile one that reminded a person of a great white before it struck its victims and nodded once, "Two days from now good enough for you Lord Morgan?"
"Splendid," The noble paused as he looked into the eyes of the other fatter man, "Again the daughters must not be harmed in any way, shape or form you do understand correct?"
Mandragora nodded once and for a moment his eyes seemed to take on the exact same colored hue of his fellow conspirator's as he turned to go having opened the car to the black luxury sedan the English Lord had arrived in.
As the car began to pull away, the largest of Franco Bertinelli's bodyguards smiled to himself deciding that giving was definitely better than receiving…
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The Sedan was beautiful in its design and was obviously well taken care of the gate security man had noticed with an appreciative smile, what he wouldn't have given to be driving a car like that albeit on his salary he doubted he'd be able to at least for another five years at the very least.
Normally observant and just as equally quite competent he was a person who knew good taste when he saw it and liked how sleek the black Mercedes was especially since the silver trim complimented it.
He did not however see the large black dog that had emerged from the left side of the car which closed on its own swiftly behind the four legged animal's departure, nor did he take notice of the fact that the passenger's side mirror failed somehow to miss the creature as it slunk through the brush carefully, silently making its way around to the back of the guard station.
The security chief however did feel fear when he heard the growling but he was not even able to cry out before the animal tackled and had torn into his throat with utter savagery blood spraying everywhere as swiftly brought an end to this one.
Larger than most hounds and as black as night, the canine's body rippled with muscles and it's blue eyes glowed with inhuman cruelty as it bit down even after it had finished crushing the windpipe and ripping out the trachea of its target whose eyes now lay open and filled with horror.
For a moment it licked its chops before jumping onto the gatehouse roof then over the fence already beginning its trek through the thick undergrowth moving faster and faster as the very night grew darker still.
Past the trees the almost wolf like predator moved with silent and terrible grace the moon bathing it in ethereal light as it made its way towards the house stopping in some brush its eyes moving to study the lattice that led towards the second story.
A pair of guards walking past didn't take notice of the shadowy figure climbing its way up with surprising ease, nor did they notice the blood now staining the white washed trellis as the individual reached the second story and landed on four legs, moving once more…
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Natasha Bertinelli was many things to her family, the spitting image of her mother the late Natalia Grishnikov a former ballerina, she was also a shy and timid young woman who loved her family deeply and had always made time for her younger half sister Helena or her step mother Carmela Bertinelli, even out of her busy school schedule.
Despite the fact, that she and her precocious six year old sibling were nothing alike, 'Tasha' or 'Tash' as Helena often called her (due to her younger sister once having trouble saying her name properly) they were very close and as such while her mother had been cooking, she had been reading a children's story to the youngest of the Bertinelli family, laughing at the innocent pout she'd been given when her sister had poked her in order to elicit her to continue reading even though it was past both their bed times.
Unlike most girls her age, Natasha preferred going to sleep around eight at night and was almost a stranger at parties, spending much of her time instead with her family or studying, habits her father had affectionately referred to as 'bookish' in nature even as he'd offered her a proud smile, pleased to know that his eldest child already knew what she wanted to do.
When Tasha had said she wanted to go to college and learn more about economics, he had she remembered puffed up his chest with pride, smiled and nodded once perhaps in relief over her desire to chose a 'safer' profession than the one he himself had.
It had only been about five years ago that she had learned just what her father did for a living, though she had never really spoken out against it, given she had never felt it was her place to say anything, at the same time however she had asked her step mother if her father intended to become a full time legitimate businessman.
Carmela had smiled, nodding in response before changing the subject as was her custom, not that Natasha minded as she knew it was doubtless a subject on her step-mother and her father's minds, still she couldn't help but be unnerved every day she saw her papa on the phone with one business associate after another, and often worried for both of her parents and for Helena's safety.
Sometimes it was hard being responsible, other times it felt good to not be like the other girls in the schools, the ones who were always going on and on about boys and never once applying themselves like she did, shaking her head a little Natasha smiled as she tenderly put her little sister to bed before stiffening as she saw the large dog at the window.
Its eyes glowed in the moonlight and without a word Natasha Bertinelli walked towards it and the darkness…
When morning came so too did the end of her family, as her father's heartbreak turned to alarm when he and his wife discovered that his eldest daughter was missing, they did everything they could to find her.
Two days later, Helena Bertinelli's world, was shattered even more with the deaths of her parents…
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Note: Sorry it was short but I hope to do better, see it's been awhile since I've been writing anyways hope everyone enjoyed this so far, next part coming up soonJ
