Title: Blood's Silken Cure
Author: Christa Weald
Email: vampyrehunteruk@yahoo.co.uk
Spoilers: Basic Night World
Disclaimers: Night World and any of its characters belong to LJ Smith,
unrecognised storylines and characters are mine.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some language
Summary: Honey ran away to avoid catastrophe, only now wants to come home
to make sure her family are okay. Only now Honey and her new soulmate come
face to face with the twin who destroyed her family and an old enemy
determined for revenge.
Author's Note: Feedback appreciated.
Part 1
The rain slammed against the window, the guy beside her was gripping the seat arms for dear life. Honey Winchester smiled faintly.
"I told you we should have gone in the limo," the guy said through gritted teeth.
Honey snorted. "That would have been far too obvious. No one's supposed to know I'm coming home. That's why we're not doing anything obvious."
"Did I mention I *hate* flying?" he moaned.
"Several thousand times. Do you want me to knock you out?" Honey said with a grin.
"Fuck you," he grumbled,
Honey smiled, glancing over at Cambridge Redfern as he sat back in his seat. The normally cocky, smart-ass vampire was scared out his mind by aeroplanes. A boy who spent longer on his appearance than most girls probably did. Perfect browny-blond hair was now wispy, sweat ruining the perfect bangs, perfect tanned skin a sicky white, azure eyes were squeezed tightly shut.
Honey patted his hand in a loving manner. "Just breathe, we'll be landing soon."
"I don't breathe, idiot," Cam hissed.
Honey shook her head, smiling. She was in too good a mood. She hadn't been home in almost five years. It was kind of hard to stay in town when you were technically dead.
But even so, she had hidden long enough, the Daybreak mansion was great and Honey loved living there, she just wanted to see if her family was okay. Thierry had insisted she not travel alone, just I in case. It had seemed like a good a good idea at the time to bring her soulmate along. Cam may be a snotty, stuck up pain in the ass, but Honey loved him more than anything.
She was starting to wish she'd come with someone who wasn't terrified of flying.
Even she wasn't too thrilled to sit next to someone who was constantly worrying out loud that the plane would crash, or lightning would strike it. It was worse than being stuck with a baby who wouldn't stop crying. (There was one of them three rows down).
Anyway, as she had told Cam, they would be landing soon. Honey was in too good a mood to let anything bring her down.
* * *
The fun of flying first class. There was nothing better than luxury seats, champagne and not having to deal with the over packed, smelly vermin riffraff of ordinary people. Plus, there was another advantage of getting off the plane much quicker.
Too bad after the flight Charity Willows had a two hour drive to a town that wasn't even on the map. "Why did I take this job again?"
"Because you're getting paid?" offered her companion Lacey Dervereaux.
Charity scowled as she stalked past the crowd making their way to Baggage Claim. It was bad enough to be on a boring assignment, even worse due to the fact she had an amateur tagging along.
"Go get the bags and I'll meet you at the so-called safe house." She wasn't in the mood for dealing with the irritations of an airport.
The overcrowded place was making her hungry with so many differed people mingling, so many scents and sounds, either enough to rouse a Night Person's taste buds or make them sick. Charity was going for hungry.
She looked at the address she had been given, and the name of the person she was supposed to ask for: Tirrol Fearne. She winced, even as she got into the limo. "Drive," she ordered.
If she was worth anything, Lacey would find her way to the safehouse. Plus, if she didn't and lost Charity's luggage, Charity was going to hunt the little bitch down and kill her,
Her eyes closed as she sank back in the soft leather seats, pouring herself a martini from the mini fridge and resting her feet on the coffee table. She must have fallen asleep, she woke up when the limo driver politely informed her that she was almost at her destination. Charity's nose wrinkled as she looked out the window to see her surroundings. There was an expanse of dry-looking farm land, houses were few and far between. There was an elementary school, a high school, a handful of shops, one bar, a two screen movie theatre. Hardly any decent boutiques, no mall, nothing exciting.
As Lacey had pointed out, at least she *was* getting paid. It wasn't like knocking off two lovelorn soulmates, werewolves and vermin weren't much of a challenge.
The limo stopped, the door opened. An attractive Hispanic boy answered the door of the house when she banged on the door. "I thought there were supposed to be two of you."
"Yeah, there are, she's getting the luggage at the airport. Tirrol Fearne?" "Yeah. And you would be - Charity Galena?" He moved aside, letting her in.
"That'd be me." She looked around in distaste, at the plain, drab cream colour of the place. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she found the living room had only one couch, and one overstuffed armchair, one TV, only a video recorder with boxes scattered all over the floor.
"Look at the bright side," Tirrol offered. "The sooner you kill these freaks, the sooner you can get the hell out of here."
Charity sighed, guessing he was right.
"Your room's first on the right." And with that he was gone.
Charity's eyes rolled. ^Men,^ she thought with disgust. The room had two single beds, one wardrobe and two tiny night stands. The walls were a pale pink, the bed sheets white with little yellow flowers. There were no curtains, just a cream coloured roller blind.
Charity heard footsteps outside her door. Opening her door she saw a girl with dyed bright pink hair doing a lousy job of trying to peer through her keyhole. Charity's knee connected with the girl's stomach. The girl collapsed, grunting in pain, looking up in shock as Charity's hand shot out, wrapping around her throat and hauling her to her feet.
"And give me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your neck right now," she said pleasantly.
The girl's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Charity smiled. "Not good enough."
Her fangs extended, her grip shifted to find a good vein to get her teeth into. A little blood pick-me-up would make her feel better.
"I know that Honey Winchester is on her way to town right now," the pink haired girl blurted out.
That got Charity's attention, her grip relaxed just enough to let the girl speak. "That's impossible. That bitch is *dead*."
"No, it was all faked. I know - I have sources."
Charity dropped the girl, who scrambled to her feet, large black eyes looked back at her defiantly. Charity's arms folded. "And you are?"
"Claudia Hemlock. Witch." She smiled proudly, straightening her short back top and smoothing down the blue leather skirt she wore.
"And why should I believe you?"
"You're the one who was supposed to have killed her in the first place. You wouldn't be who you are now if you hadn't and the Council found it was all a huge fuck up." Claudia's smile was mean, her black eyes were glittering.
Charity sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, Claudia was right. "All right, you have my attention. What do you want?"
"To make that bitch *really* dead."
Charity even found herself smiling. Well, maybe this trip would turn out to be more interesting than she had thought.
* * *
Part 1
The rain slammed against the window, the guy beside her was gripping the seat arms for dear life. Honey Winchester smiled faintly.
"I told you we should have gone in the limo," the guy said through gritted teeth.
Honey snorted. "That would have been far too obvious. No one's supposed to know I'm coming home. That's why we're not doing anything obvious."
"Did I mention I *hate* flying?" he moaned.
"Several thousand times. Do you want me to knock you out?" Honey said with a grin.
"Fuck you," he grumbled,
Honey smiled, glancing over at Cambridge Redfern as he sat back in his seat. The normally cocky, smart-ass vampire was scared out his mind by aeroplanes. A boy who spent longer on his appearance than most girls probably did. Perfect browny-blond hair was now wispy, sweat ruining the perfect bangs, perfect tanned skin a sicky white, azure eyes were squeezed tightly shut.
Honey patted his hand in a loving manner. "Just breathe, we'll be landing soon."
"I don't breathe, idiot," Cam hissed.
Honey shook her head, smiling. She was in too good a mood. She hadn't been home in almost five years. It was kind of hard to stay in town when you were technically dead.
But even so, she had hidden long enough, the Daybreak mansion was great and Honey loved living there, she just wanted to see if her family was okay. Thierry had insisted she not travel alone, just I in case. It had seemed like a good a good idea at the time to bring her soulmate along. Cam may be a snotty, stuck up pain in the ass, but Honey loved him more than anything.
She was starting to wish she'd come with someone who wasn't terrified of flying.
Even she wasn't too thrilled to sit next to someone who was constantly worrying out loud that the plane would crash, or lightning would strike it. It was worse than being stuck with a baby who wouldn't stop crying. (There was one of them three rows down).
Anyway, as she had told Cam, they would be landing soon. Honey was in too good a mood to let anything bring her down.
* * *
The fun of flying first class. There was nothing better than luxury seats, champagne and not having to deal with the over packed, smelly vermin riffraff of ordinary people. Plus, there was another advantage of getting off the plane much quicker.
Too bad after the flight Charity Willows had a two hour drive to a town that wasn't even on the map. "Why did I take this job again?"
"Because you're getting paid?" offered her companion Lacey Dervereaux.
Charity scowled as she stalked past the crowd making their way to Baggage Claim. It was bad enough to be on a boring assignment, even worse due to the fact she had an amateur tagging along.
"Go get the bags and I'll meet you at the so-called safe house." She wasn't in the mood for dealing with the irritations of an airport.
The overcrowded place was making her hungry with so many differed people mingling, so many scents and sounds, either enough to rouse a Night Person's taste buds or make them sick. Charity was going for hungry.
She looked at the address she had been given, and the name of the person she was supposed to ask for: Tirrol Fearne. She winced, even as she got into the limo. "Drive," she ordered.
If she was worth anything, Lacey would find her way to the safehouse. Plus, if she didn't and lost Charity's luggage, Charity was going to hunt the little bitch down and kill her,
Her eyes closed as she sank back in the soft leather seats, pouring herself a martini from the mini fridge and resting her feet on the coffee table. She must have fallen asleep, she woke up when the limo driver politely informed her that she was almost at her destination. Charity's nose wrinkled as she looked out the window to see her surroundings. There was an expanse of dry-looking farm land, houses were few and far between. There was an elementary school, a high school, a handful of shops, one bar, a two screen movie theatre. Hardly any decent boutiques, no mall, nothing exciting.
As Lacey had pointed out, at least she *was* getting paid. It wasn't like knocking off two lovelorn soulmates, werewolves and vermin weren't much of a challenge.
The limo stopped, the door opened. An attractive Hispanic boy answered the door of the house when she banged on the door. "I thought there were supposed to be two of you."
"Yeah, there are, she's getting the luggage at the airport. Tirrol Fearne?" "Yeah. And you would be - Charity Galena?" He moved aside, letting her in.
"That'd be me." She looked around in distaste, at the plain, drab cream colour of the place. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she found the living room had only one couch, and one overstuffed armchair, one TV, only a video recorder with boxes scattered all over the floor.
"Look at the bright side," Tirrol offered. "The sooner you kill these freaks, the sooner you can get the hell out of here."
Charity sighed, guessing he was right.
"Your room's first on the right." And with that he was gone.
Charity's eyes rolled. ^Men,^ she thought with disgust. The room had two single beds, one wardrobe and two tiny night stands. The walls were a pale pink, the bed sheets white with little yellow flowers. There were no curtains, just a cream coloured roller blind.
Charity heard footsteps outside her door. Opening her door she saw a girl with dyed bright pink hair doing a lousy job of trying to peer through her keyhole. Charity's knee connected with the girl's stomach. The girl collapsed, grunting in pain, looking up in shock as Charity's hand shot out, wrapping around her throat and hauling her to her feet.
"And give me one good reason why I shouldn't snap your neck right now," she said pleasantly.
The girl's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Charity smiled. "Not good enough."
Her fangs extended, her grip shifted to find a good vein to get her teeth into. A little blood pick-me-up would make her feel better.
"I know that Honey Winchester is on her way to town right now," the pink haired girl blurted out.
That got Charity's attention, her grip relaxed just enough to let the girl speak. "That's impossible. That bitch is *dead*."
"No, it was all faked. I know - I have sources."
Charity dropped the girl, who scrambled to her feet, large black eyes looked back at her defiantly. Charity's arms folded. "And you are?"
"Claudia Hemlock. Witch." She smiled proudly, straightening her short back top and smoothing down the blue leather skirt she wore.
"And why should I believe you?"
"You're the one who was supposed to have killed her in the first place. You wouldn't be who you are now if you hadn't and the Council found it was all a huge fuck up." Claudia's smile was mean, her black eyes were glittering.
Charity sighed. As much as she hated to admit it, Claudia was right. "All right, you have my attention. What do you want?"
"To make that bitch *really* dead."
Charity even found herself smiling. Well, maybe this trip would turn out to be more interesting than she had thought.
* * *