Author's notes: I'm sorry guys. I'm tired and took a cheap and easy way out. Usually when I write, I use an outline system for the basic gist that I want to get across. Then I start writing various scenes and then patch them together. (My teachers have compared my method of writing to putting together a patchwork quilt) Well I have been stuck with this since February. I feel bad for the long delays. Consider this the rough, rough draft. I plan on coming back and filling in the blanks, but right now I'm just not feeling this anymore but I want to resolve the cliffhanger.

Sorry for the delay. Thank you for reading!

Chapter 7

The tall elf crumpled to the floor. He never thought that Trenton would actually shoot him. He wasn't sure if he should thank the red haired whore for pushing his Sa'han at the last second. Trenton's aim was extremely accurate and he was aiming straight at Jon's chest.

Jonathan's arm throbbed where the bullet grazed him. The warm sticky blood seeped into his shirt and suit jacket as he layed on the floor. Their voices sounded like mindless babble. He winced, flexing his injured arm's fingers. It hurt, but they still moved. As he forced himself to sit up, he shut his eyes to combat the light-headed feeling. He grasped the desk, to help steady him as he stood up. He couldn't move fast enough to stop Trenton from pushing his latest whore out of harm's way. The clown, Saladan was smiling like it was a joke.

"What did you to him?"

"I'm not exactly sure. The focus object and curse were for Rachel. I'm surprised Trent is affected by it." He pulled out the bottle of rum from the wet bar. "Besides, why are you so concerned? Didn't Trent just try to shoot you?"

"A slight misunderstanding." Jon growled, watching Lee drink straight from the bottle. Lee walked over to the exit, looking over the patio.

"I don't understand. Trent tortures her, tries to kill her and now they are all lovey dovey. He tries to kill you; you're ok with it and are concerned for his well-being. What is wrong with this picture?"

"You will undo the curse you cast."

The dark haired witch laughed. Fed up with the pompous clown, Jonathan swung out and landed a punch with his uninjured arm. Lee tried to fight back but was no match. Jon was able to dodge the sloppy punches. Lee doubled over after a Jon kicked his stomach. It hurt, but Lee started laughing again. Jonathan paused his attack.

"Beating up on me isn't going to make me want to help your precious Sa'han." Jonathan punched his face, causing Lee's nose to bleed. The witch fell to his knees. The wide grin remained on his face. "I find it odd that you haven't asked about my accomplice, Jon. I know she told you about what we planned." Lee looked up at the tall elf, his dark bangs falling in his eyes. He noticed various emotions running across Jonathan's face before the wall went back up. Lee used the reprieve from Jonathan's blows to wipe the blood off his face with his shirt's sleeves.

"Is Ellasbeth ok?"

"She was at the time I left her." Jonathan dove at Lee's kneeling form. Lee was on his back and grabbed at Jon's injured arm, digging his fingers into the spot where the bullet grazed him. A red haze of pain clouded Jon's mind for a brief moment. Years of torment from Trent and his father helped him build up a high threshold for pain. Shaking it off, he used his good hand and wrapped it around Lee's throat.

"What did you do to her?" He closed his hand around Lee's throat when he did not answer. Jon released his grip and Lee started coughing and gasping for air. Jonathan stood up slowly. "One last time, what did you do to Ellasbeth?" Lee rolled over, still coughing, trying to crawl away from the pissed off elf. Jonathan's leg lashed out, catching Lee's stomach. After a few more well placed kicks to his sides, Lee muttered, "Hotel room…demon." Then he faded into unconsciousness.

Jonathan looked over and saw the witch holding Trent. He walked over to the couple. His Sa'han first, then he would go check on Ellasbeth.

"Sa'han?" Jonathan inquired. Trent turned to look at him, but his eyes were having trouble focusing.

"He intercepted a spell Lee cast." Rachel answered, stating the obvious," Can you send a car to get Ceri? I'm not sure if I can counter this on my own." She slapped Trent's cheek. Jonathan glared. His arm ached as he lingered over the witch. His face was difficult to read as he stared at Trent.

"Could love you…" The tall elf grimaced and they were the last words he was able to make out before Trent fell against her, unconscious. Jon looked down, disapproving as she dared to caress Trent's face. No reaction. His breathing was deep and shallow. His tanned complexion looked paler than usual.

"Jon, did you send someone for Ceri yet?" He did not dignify her with a response. Just because she was Trenton's latest toy, did not mean she could order him around. "How's your arm? Could help me move Sleeping Beauty?"

"Do you think that you saved my life? That we are going to be friends now? You expect me to thank you?"

Rachel let out a frustrated sigh," A little gratitude would be nice. By the way, did you use your nifty little communicator thingie to send a car to Quen and Ceri?"

"Just because you were intimate with him does not mean I answer to you, whore." Jonathan sneered. "You're just a way to pass time until something new comes along. Be warned little witch, he gets bored easily."

"My feelings are so hurt you tall freak of nature." She looked behind Jonathan at Lee's still form. "Did you leave him alive? He may be able to clue me in on what he cast?"

"Trenton is still breathing, so whatever it was couldn't have been too lethal." Jonathan straightened his messed up suit jacket and then turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Rachel called out after him. He ignored her. As much as he detested leaving Trent alone with the witch, it appeared that he would be ok. On his way out he would send one of the security guys to fetch Quen and Ceri. Jonathan was saddened a little that Ellasbeth may need him more than his Sa'han.

*****

(inside Trent's mind)

I jumped awake as the piano's notes went off in a rapid crescendo. The melody was fast, happy, possibly Mozart. My room was dark since the gray drapes were drawn across the windows. I overheard two voices arguing in the other room as the piano faded away.

"Do you want me to say thank you?"

"I kind of pushed him so his aim was off, so a little gratitude would be nice. By the way, did you use your nifty little communicator thingie to send a car to Quen and Ceri yet?"

"Just because you were intimate with him does not mean I answer to you, whore."

"My feelings are so hurt you tall freak of nature." I recognized the voices as Jon and Rachel.

"I'm ok guys." I called out. The arguing continued. As I stepped into the other room to show them that I was peachy-keen, I could not find them. The piano continued to play and I followed the melody. When I rounded the corner, I paused to stare that player. She stopped and looked over at me

"There's my sweet little prince. I was beginning to give up hope. Come on we have time for a quick walk before dinner." Her voice was a playful sounding alto. Her features were identical to mine, older and softer. Dimples were etched above her lips, and her green eyes shown brightly at me. She reached out and petted at my hair. Her rose scented perfume filled my nose." One of these days you'll hopefully grow out of that stupid cowlick." She held out her hand and with no hesitation I took it.

We talked; well actually I did most of the talking. I told her of the advances I made with the research for the cure, of the success Rachel and I had with retrieving a blood sample from the ever after. To my surprise, I gushed a little bit about Rachel. Murdering drug lord in love for the first time since I was a teenager. My mother remained silent, nodding her head and smiling.

When we finally reached the patio, Quen was waiting for us. He looked agitated. My mother regarded him with a nervous glance.

"Mal Sa'han, Piscary is here." He said, "Trenton and Monty are still at the camp."

"Of course they are." She snickered, the glow leaving her eyes. Her warm voice took a cold tone. "What does Piscary want?"

"He wants to talk about an alliance."

"Take my son, keep him safe." She forced my hand into Quen's. "Where is Jonathan?"

"He's with two of my guards watching Piscary."

"Did the vampire come alone?" The way she looked at Quen and the tone in her voice made me shiver. I never thought of her having this steely, authoritative side.

"Yes, as an act of good faith."

She responded with a haughty laugh, "Good faith my ass." She glided off towards my father's offices. I watched confused by the exchange that just happened. My mother never dealt with Piscary. I remember our afternoon walks and this never happened. She was always the artist, looking out for me, expressing disproval with my father. I felt Quen tug my hand and my feet shuffled along.

******

I was in my old bedroom, decorated in greens and blues instead of black and shades of grey. I heard their voices yelling. I could tell my mother was crying for some reason. I forced my bedroom door open, curious about the commotion. Jonathan stood outside my door, standing guard. His dark hair was jet black and slicked back.

"You should get back to sleep, Trenton." He towered over me, as the light and shadows played with his hawk-like facial features.

"I want to see my mother." I tried to force my way pass him. The tall man held me back. Remembering the elementary fighting lessons Quen taught me, I lashed my arm out, hitting him in the stomach. He doubled over, relinquishing his grip on me. I ran toward the arguing voices of my parents.

Their bedroom door was slightly cracked open. Peering through the crack I saw my mother holding a tiny revolver and a glass of whiskey. That was nothing new; she was fond of her pre-Turn whiskey. Her white satin nightgown shimmered in the dim light of the room. Her long hair was braided and her green eyes were possessed with an intense craziness. Bite marks marred the tanned flesh of her neck. My father was still dressed for business. He approached her but she waived the revolver at him.

"Why did you hide it from me?" She demanded. She was the only person I knew who could stand up to my father and not face any consequences.

"There is only a 3% chance of success."

She laughed. The ice cubes in the glass clinked against the glass as she finished the whiskey.

"I just need more time. Please Veronica give me the gun." She was the only person to make my father beg. "Please."

"You have no idea what this is like."

"None of the other vamps will touch you. Piscary just did this to warn us off."

"Everything is just business with you. He called me vamp bait at dinner tonight."

"Vero, you're drunk." He moved toward her again, she back away dropping the glass. I pushed the door open a little wider as they moved out of my sight. She pushed the gun against his chest.

"Why won't you give me the treatment?" She wailed. "I'll take my chances with the 3%." I felt fingers digging into my shoulder blade causing me to lurch forward accidentally bumping the door open. Jon had snuck up behind me. She lowered the gun and flashed a sad looking smile at the doorway. My father followed her gaze to me, and I tried to hide into the shadows, pretending like I didn't see anything.

"Looks like we were being a little too loud, dear." My mother hid her hands behind her back, pretending like I just didn't see her with a gun. My father forced a smile, removing his suit jacket and undoing his shirt's cuff links. She moved toward us. Her rose perfume was mingled with the scent of whiskey. "Go back to bed, my sweet prince." She placed a sloppy kiss on my forehead; her eyes glanced upward at Jon. I craned my neck around. It was like they were having a conversation with their eyes. "Good night Jonathan." He did a slight nod to her and ushered me away. My mother slammed the door.

I was so confused. What the hell was going on? Piscary never bit my mom. I knew Jonathan was my mother's servant and she willed him to me when she died, but those looks. I forced the thought out of my head when I heard a gun shot. I escaped the grip Jon had on my arm and raced back down the hallway. I tried to open the door but it was locked. I stepped back and threw my weight against the door. It gave in and I went flying into the room.

My father was kneeling on the floor, cradling my mother's body. A puddle of blood was forming on the floor. He looked up at me. I was surprised the bastard was actually crying.

"Mom?" I collapsed next to them. The gun shot was straight through her heart. "You shot her?" Her eyes were staring up at the ceiling, and she was not breathing. Creeped out by the vacant stare I went to close her eyelids. My father slapped my hand away. She was sick with cancer. She didn't die from a gunshot. "You shot her." I said with more certainty. Jonathan's shadow stretched over us.

"It was an accident. She was drunk, waving that pistol in my face. I tried to disarm her before she hurt me and it discharged." His white shirt was covered with her blood as he set her body on the floor. He reached over to embrace me and I tried to shy away. His arm eventually snared me.

"Is there anything I can do?" Jonathan volunteered, still sounding professional.

"Call Leon. He'll keep things nice and quiet." He stood up and helped me to my feet. I watched as my father reached into a cabinet, pulling out a vial. "I'll calm my son down." Jon left to follow his orders. Dad disappeared into the bathroom with the vial and reappeared with a syringe. I ran out of the room, my instinct telling me not to let him inject that stuff in me. He chased after me. If I could make it to the gardens, I could lose him.

"Trenton." I stopped, breathing a sigh of relief. It was Quen.

"Oh my god Quen, he shot and killed her." I panted, trying to catch my breath.

"What?"

"He shot and killed my mother. He's chasing after me to inject some drug in me."

"Quen! Stop him!" Quen looked between my father and me. I went to move and Quen grabbed my arm. I swatted at him and he caught me by the wrist. As I struggled to break free, Quen managed to lock my arms behind my back. Looking sinister holding the syringe, my father walked to us.

"Come on Quen, you know this is wrong." I scolded. My father tapped the needle and squirted a little bit of the fluid out.

"I'm sorry Trenton." He touched my cheek and I spat at him. He stuck the needle in my neck. I winced as the injection burned its way through my veins. "When you wake up tomorrow, this will all be just a bad dream."

*******

(real world- 1 day later)

I pushed the blankets off. The dream was still fresh in my head. My mother had cancer. The treatments my father gave her failed. My father was a vile man, but he wouldn't have shot her, accident or not. My head throbbed, like I was hung over. I looked around for Rachel and Jonathan and was startled by Ceri sitting next to my bed.

"You're awake." Her voice was filled with surprise. She placed the book she was reading on my nightstand.

"I have a killer headache." I noticed I was still dressed in the plum colored dress shirt and grey slacks as I got out of the bed. "Are Rachel and Jon ok?"

"Jon disappeared and finally called Quen. Quen went to meet up with him to make sure he is ok." She said. Her head tilted toward my sitting area, "Rachel's passed out. She refused to leave." I melted when I looked in the sitting area and saw her curled up on one of the chairs. One of my many suit jackets was draped over her shoulders.

"She is disappointed with you."

"I know." I stared at the red curls tumbling over her shoulder. "Would you mind leaving us alone? I'd like to talk with her."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Whatever Lee cast is broken right?" Ceri looked unsure how to answer. "Right?"

"I don't know. Lee was out cold when Quen and I arrived. Quen called your lawyers and Rachel asked him to call her friends at the FIB." She started explaining, "I don't know what he cast, so I'm not sure if it's countered."

"Well besides the headache from hell, I'm feeling good." She looked skeptical, but finally relented to leave. After Ceri left, I leaned over Rachel's sleeping form. Pushing the hair out of her face, I kissed her cheek. She grumbled and tried to hide her face. I snuggled my head against her neck and kissed her again.

"That tickles." Her voice sounded tired.

I placed another kiss on her pulse point. "You know you like it witch."

She pushed me back, looking confused. "You're awake? Ceri promised to tell me when she figured out how to counter Lee's spell."

"She didn't do anything. I just had a really odd dream and woke up."

"You stupid elf." She hit my shoulder. "I would have had my circle up in time."

"Your back was to Lee. You had no idea he was even casting." She hit me again. "Ow. What was that for?"

"For shooting Jon."

"I didn't kill him."

"You would have if I didn't bump you."

I rolled my eyes and put my finger against her lips. "I have a headache and really don't want to rehash this argument again. I'm a bastard ok?"

She nodded her head in agreement. Our eyes locked, as I traced the contours of her face with my finger. "Did you mean what you said? Before you blacked out?"

"I can't fire Jon. Good help is hard to find." I joked.

She pushed my hand away from her face. "That's not what I was asking about." Rachel's back cracked as she stood up. My jacket slipped from her shoulders. I mimicked her actions. I touched her and she turned away with her arms folded. Not a good time to be tongue tied. I picked up the suit jacket and searched the pockets. I found a wrinkled dry cleaning receipt and a pen. Rachel watched me as I scribbled a note on the receipt. I handed it to her and watched her reaction.

"This is so third grade, Trent." She smiled, "Please don't tell me you want me to check a box."

"I'm not the best when it comes to these types of situations, but yes, I meant what I said to you." I rocked back on my heels. "I haven't always been kind toward you and I think we'll always clash on some things, but you make me want to be a better person."

"So the other night at my mother's house?"

"I've been pining away for you since we came back from the Ever After. So that night was…" I was at a loss of words.

Luckily, I didn't need any. Rachel took my hands in hers and pulled me back to my bedroom. Her kisses burned against my skin and in our desperation we both started tearing each other out our clothes. Falling on to the mattress, we melted together in ravenous kisses. I allowed her to be on top and felt her lips and tongue trace patterns down my chest, down my stomach, down, down, down. I gripped the pillow, trembling as I felt her lips brush against my thighs, gently teasing. I sighed disappointed as she stopped short. She placed a rapid flurry of kisses on my face as my hands roamed over her smooth back. Utter bliss flooded my senses as I felt her hips settle on top of me. She rocked and I followed her rhythm. Her hands touched my skin with feverish warmth and my hands cling to her shoulders. Leaning up, I pressed my lips tight against her neck, nipping her skin and whispering nonsense. She playfully pushed me back against the mattress, holding me down with her hand on my chest as she writhed against me.

Moments later I gripped onto Rachel's slim waist, whimpering her name as I came. She fell against me, her lips slightly parted and her eyes shut. I shifted her body, holding her against my torso. I traced designs down her side while my other hand played with her red hair. Rachel's eyes fluttered open and a gentle smile tugged at her lips. I returned her smile with a kiss. We fell asleep tangled in each other and black sheets.

*****

(And here's the section where Aria became a lazy bitch. My bad, apologies all around, minus 50 points. I plan on coming back and filling in the blanks, but right now I'm not sure when that will be.)

Trent wakes up and slips out of bed to shower. He returns and sees evil Doppelganger Trent cuddled next to Rachel. Doppelganger makes comments on how he should have killed her when she was a mink and now she is dragging him down. Trent argues back, Rachel wakes up and is puzzled. Just her and Trent in room. Trent swears it was nothing, lies back down with Rachel. Rachel curls up next to him. Trent sees Doppelganger laughing at him from the doorway.

Jonathan arrives too late to help Ellasbeth. Against his better judgment he takes her back to the compound. While there, Ceri talks with her about her experiences with Al. Elf girl bonding moment. Trent goes to check on Ellasbeth, Ellasbeth has a panic attack.

Trent asks Quen and Jon about the dream he had with his mother. Nothing gets resolved.

Lee is being kept in jail by the FIB. Trent's lawyers are handling that. Lawyers notified by Quen. Aggravated assault through black magic and attempted burglary charges

Trent thinks he's cracking up. Doppelganger Trent keeps popping up and causing trouble. Trent is further convinced he is going crazy when he starts seeing people he knows he killed, like Farris, Yolin Bates, Brent the Werewolf, etc…

Rachel and Ceri suspect Trent is still under the influence of Lee's curse. Not knowing how to counter it, Rachel seeks Big Al's help. She barters for his assistance by agreeing to spend additional time in the ever after with him. With Ceri's help, they perform the counterspell, freeing Trent.

And now back to the regularly scheduled programming

*******

(real world-a few days later)

I was staring at the spreadsheets. I was looking to see if the Brimstone sales picked up in Boston to warrant the additional shipment my distributor was asking for. My mind was not focused. Quen insisted that I take a few days off to recover from the curse. Stubborn me shook off his advice. I sought the quiet of my back office and set off on analyzing the numbers.

I was thankful when I heard the knock on the door. Earlier Maggie had dropped off a pot of fresh Earl Grey tea and refused to leave until I smile. "Come in." I yelled out, wondering if Maggie was bringing the fresh scones she promised earlier. Disappointment crossed my face when I saw Jonathan enter with Ellasbeth trailing behind him. Our eyes darted between each other.

"Jon, you can go." Ellasbeth finally said. "I'll only be a few minutes." Jonathan looked at me and I hesitated before I waved my hand to dismiss him. The last time I tried to talk to her alone, she started hyperventilating and shaking. She watched him walk out the room, her arms folded across her chest. Ellasbeth remained composed. She must have summoned all the ice water in her veins

I cleared my throat. "How….how are you?" The words sounded hollow knowing what she had been through. Ceri only gave me the basic information. It was Jonathan who gave me the additional details of the demon's attack.

"I am well." She replied. "I'm leaving this afternoon to return home."

"Good. I think Ceri will miss you."

"You can stop with the small talk, Trenton."

"Fine. Why are you gracing me your presence?" My voice sounded harsher than I intended.

"You once told me that you would have given me anything." Her eyes locked on to mine. I forced myself to take notice of the fading yellow bruises on her tanned face.

"What do you want?" She looked genuinely surprised I was considering her request.

"I want you to take care of Lee." I was going to protest, as she continued, "I have never asked you for anything that required you to use your less savory resources. If you ever cared for me, if you truly meant what you said…"

"Ellasbeth," she started heading to the door. I had spent days being haunted by the things that I had done in the past until Rachel and Ceri figured out how to untwist the curse. And Rachel, I cared about her a lot and I know that I wasn't completely redeemed in her eyes. I told her twice that I wanted to be more than just this. I didn't want to disappoint her.

"Good-bye Trenton. I doubt that we will be in touch after this." Ellasbeth gently shut the door behind her. The click as the door latched left me alone, conflicted and weighing her request.