CHAPTER 11

FOUR MONTHS LATER

"Order up!"

Bo pocketed several loonies along with a phone number on a slip of paper that had been left under an empty beer mug, and finished wiping the table. In less than a minute, the table was once again occupied by patrons flirting with her while they gave her drink orders.

It was Saturday night, the Dal Riata was past capacity, and Bo was a popular girl.

Bo excused her way through the crowd and to the food prep area, picked up the latest food order, and dove back into the fray. Though the Dal catered to exclusively Fae clientele, at its heart it was a pub, and Bo had worked in so many bars, clubs and pubs over the last decade, she'd forgotten more of those places than she remembered.

This world, for the most part, she understood. Two months wasn't the longest stint she'd every worked, but it had been long, long time since she had.

Trick owned the Dal, but his lieutenant Dyson was the general manager. Neither of them actually worked here, Bo had learned, but one of them had been in a position to strongly suggest to the other that she'd make a fine addition to the staff. She'd been working here ever since.

As she hustled to keep up with the rush, Bo found herself relieved to have something to do.

Trick's words fell like pebbles on the floor, tiny echoes ringing in Bo's ears until she found her voice.

"My - my grandfather?" Bo could only manage a whisper.

He nodded, clasping his hands together in front of him, elbows on his knees. He didn't look up, though Bo wanted to see the truth of his words in his eyes. She couldn't handle one more mistruth or injustice, no matter how much she thought she deserved them, so she prayed he wasn't lying to her.

If he was, she thought she might find a way to slit her own throat.

"Yes. We'd probably have to test our blood to be sure." He winced at this, though Bo didn't understand why. "But you bear too much of a resemblance to my wife, and my -" He paused to clear his throat, and continued. "My daughter. I don't need such a test. I know who you are."

Bo took a step closer, resting an arm on the back of another chair, needing its support. "How can you be so sure?"

He sat still like stone, but his thumbs worried over the tops of his clasped hands. "My wife died a long, long time ago." He sounded sad, and Bo could see that he still missed her. "Ysabeau, was a succubus. So was - is - our daughter. "

The question was ready on Bo's lips, but before she could ask, he answered.

"I haven't seen her in years, centuries, actually, but I know she gave birth to a daughter, and then put the baby in hiding."

He eyes were hooded with something Bo couldn't interpret. "I've been looking for you ever since I was told you'd been born."

Bo wasn't sure what to say to that.

"I'm grateful Lauren found you."

Her hatred returned, and was a simple distraction. "She can get fucked. She just wants to use me for her research."

Trick's words were measure and cool at Bo's outburst. "Dr. Lewis is a brilliant resource to the Fae, and has saved us all more than once. I can understand why you resent her, but she has done you a great service."

"By locking me up like a lab rat?"

"By saving you from a Dark Fae inquisitor's chair. There are more direct and excruciatingly painful ways to get you to talk, Ysabeau."

Bo leaned against the chair, shaking with powerlessness and frustration, and still reeling from the sound of what must have been her given name. "I can't tell them what I don't know!"

"Then be grateful you're not in the custody of those who won't take no for an answer."

It was like he didn't hear a word she was saying and had missed the point entirely. "I don't want anything to do with her!"

He looked at her for a long time. "Then I'll see if someone else can guide you, but you must cooperate." His look turned imploring. "We - I want to help you, Ysabeau. You belong here, and the path before you is not as bleak as you seem to think."

Bo didn't believe that, but she did want answers and her gut was telling her this one man was the key. A deal was struck between them - she would meet with any doctor that wasn't Lauren, and Trick would answer her questions.

True to his word, Trick had arranged for another doctor to meet with Bo and to talk with her about how she could learn to feed without killing.

And every evening, Trick had visited her to share his history, and tell her about the world of the Fae, about where she'd really come from.

Bo squeezed through two patrons to reach the bar, and saw a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye.

"What's the special tonight, Bo-Bo?" Kenzi strolled in like she owned the place and took up her new favorite perch right next to Bo's serving station.

Over the last couple of weeks, Kenzi had started showing up more often during Bo's shifts. Bo enjoyed her company, though she hadn't told Kenzi so. It was nice having someone around who wasn't Fae and who shared Bo's views about how weird this world was.

Bo made a rude noise. "What does it matter? You're only going to drink the vodka or the Buckthorn - and on my tab, no doubt." She waved at the bartender to catch his attention, and then tossed her head in Kenzi's direction with a roll of her eyes. He nodded, bemused, but Bo had a lot of respect for the art of the hustle and Kenzi reminded Bo of her rougher days on the streets. Maybe karma was a real thing - if so, it couldn't hurt to pay things forward.

Kenzi didn't bother to deny the accusation. "A girl's gotta get it while she can. And you should know. You're certainly getting enough play around here."

And Bo couldn't deny the truth of that. In less than six months, she'd gone from hunting prey in dark clubs and alleys to having Fae of all kinds throw themselves at her feet. The new phone number in her pocket was one of a half dozen she'd been given tonight alone.

Now that she could feed without killing, the world was her smorgasbord, and there were plenty of willing souls offering themselves on silver platters.

She was surprised at how quickly this had become the new normal.

The new doctor Trick had found was kind but business-like. He never visited her quarters, instead meeting her in his informal office in the compound, and treated her like a patient who needed help but not condescension. He never asked where she was from or how she came to be in his office.

It was odd, but reassuring, and frankly, Bo was too exhausted and starved at this point to keep fighting. She relented, deciding that - at the very least - she'd be strong enough to plan escape.

Within a day, he'd collected enough information to suggest a feeding schedule. While unsettling, the conversations were open and honest. The first step of the plan was to get her into a healthier condition by separating sexual relations from feeding as she worked on learning control. Then, they'd determine her health baseline, and work to find out what the most optimal feeding frequency was to maintain peak condition.

It was clinical, and he was professional, but warm and encouraging. The chi didn't taste as good without sex, but it kept her alive.

Within a week, he worked with her to determine her treatment plans, explained what tests were needed and why, and pledged not to implement anything she hadn't agreed to and signed off beforehand.

It was several weeks before Bo realized that the treatment plans were all co-signed with the initials "LL".

The noise level in the Dal went up a couple of decibels. Bo had to shout drink orders to the bartender, and he had to lean over the bar to hear her.

"How can you stand living here?" Kenzi slammed another empty shot glass on the worn wood of the bar.

Bo didn't want to say anything about living rent-free for fear of having to explain why. "Well, if I get hammered, I don't have far to stumble."

There were several apartments above the Dal, and Bo had lived in one of them ever since she'd left the compound two months before. It wasn't fancy, but it was the nicest place she'd lived in years.

"Christ, woman, how much liquor would it take to get you hammered? You're all so fucking sturdy, I'm starting to wonder if you're Russian." Kenzi's words were starting to slur together. "Though none of you could drink me under the table."

Bo laughed. She wasn't one for drinking much. Too many bad memories, though many had eased thanks to treatment.

Not long after her first meeting with Trick, he convinced her to see a Light Fae therapist. Bo had thought he was insane - therapy wasn't going to make her any less of a murderer, but he had been persistent and she'd given in.

Eric the ogre walked beside her, guiding her to an office on the far side of the compound. She was still under guard, but Eric had stopped having his brother with the taser, follow them around.

"You don't need to be so nervous, Bo." Eric was always kind. "It'll be fine."

"I'm not nervous." Bo said. She was lying, and they both knew it.

Eric tried to contain his laughter. "Sure, sure."

Their relationship had changed from guard and captive to one of almost painful professional politeness. Eric had offered his service to her several times, and though the medical staff had been creative in structuring her feeds - and Bo wondered whose idea it had been to strap her down at first while she fed - they'd ultimately been successful.

She and Eric hadn't had sex, but Bo had fed well just the same. If she weren't here against her will, she might think they were becoming friendly.

The door to the therapist's office was ajar in welcome, and Bo poked her head in.

"Come on in, Bo," he said with a touch of a Spanish accent. He stepped out from behind his desk and gestured as he walked toward two chairs in front of a fireplace. "Join me."

Tall and lean, with dark hair and Mediterranean features, he was dressed in dated but expensive tailored clothes. "I'm Dr. Morales. Please feel free to call me Ernesto."

Bo sat down, but didn't lean back. She wasn't relaxed, didn't know what to expect, and wasn't entirely sure that she was going to stick around. "I thought I'd have to lie on a couch."

He laughed. "A common misconception." His smile wrinkled the corners of his dark eyes. "And I bet it isn't the only one you might have. Let me tell you a little bit more about me, and I think you'll get an idea of how this works."

Ernesto was a shame-eater, and as far as he was concerned, their working relationship would be mutually beneficial.

As Bo talked about how she'd come to be where she was, he asked about her history and the events that brought her to the colony. With each story she told, she felt the agony as if it were happening all over again, but then the pain would ease and her feelings about herself would shift.

It was an act of self-forgiveness for each transgression.

It changed nothing. People were still dead, and Bo regretted every single one, but Bo had come to recognize that she'd done the best she could with what she had at the time - which wasn't much. The endless self-berating wasn't helping her move forward, and he helped her see that it was time to find a new path for her life.

After an hour, she was completely drained but somehow lighter in spirit. She couldn't go back and change anything. She could only work harder to make sure that those mistakes were never repeated in the future.

When Bo walked out the office after that first of several subsequent sessions, Eric was sitting in a nearby chair reading a thick hardcover. He stood as she walked closer.

"You waited for me?" Bo said. His shift had ended before he'd guided her here, and Bo had been expecting his replacement, but she was surprised to discover she was happy to see him.

"I would have been here anyway, but I promised someone I'd make sure you were ok."

Bo thought it might have been Trick, but then she realized that if the Ash had told Eric to stay, Eric would have said so.

Eric had promised someone else, and Bo had her suspicions about who that might be.

"How'd it go with that tall stack of man-candy you hooked up with last weekend? Bow chicka bow wow!" Kenzi whooped and in the process, spilled some vodka on the floor. "He was a little too pretty but he walked like he might have some talent."

Bo rolled her eyes. "It went fine." She'd had a good time with Ryan, but didn't think she'd see him again.

Kenzi looked around the bar, though Bo could tell she wasn't focusing on anything well. "I don't see him around tonight."

Bo shook her head. "And you won't. Turns out he's Dark Fae." She watched Kenzi's mouth fall open in shock. The Dal Riata was Light Fae territory, though there were certain times when both sides could visit the space.

"No way!" Kenzi set her glass half on a coaster on the bar. "You fucked a Dark Fae pretty boy? Is that even allowed?"

Bo shrugged. "Probably not, but I'm not exactly playing by all the rules."

It was true. While Bo now understood the meaning and importance of the One Rule, she was still dancing around the rest of the rules she'd been told.

When asked to choose a side, Bo had declined and said that she simply didn't know enough yet to make a decision. The Morrigan had argued that was an unacceptable option, but Trick had backed her, though probably out of fear that she'd choose the Dark if pushed.

The result was that Bo was unaligned for now. She was free. Sort of.

By the end of the second month, they'd stopped locking the door.

One night, Trick looked right through her as if taking her measure again, then told her that if she would commit to finishing out the three month sentence of her own volition, she would be extended new freedoms within the Light Fae Compound.

Bo asked what that meant.

"A blood oath is the most serious commitment our people can make. Your word has value, and if you break that oath, the punishment is death." Trick paused, and let the weight of his words fills the room. "Do you give your blood oath to finish what you've started?"

Bo stared at him, and wondered what she was giving up. It didn't really change anything. She was still stuck here.

What choice did she have?

Then again, how wrong had she been about what her life could be? For the last couple of weeks, "stuck" had actually changed her life for the better. She wasn't hustling feeds on the streets. She wasn't crashed in some crackhouse, worried about being discovered. Though she was in jail of a sort, it was a velvet-covered one with gourmet meals and hot water. And she wasn't alone in the world anymore, even if her only family was a secretive old man who often wouldn't answer her direct questions.

She had to admit that she was making progress.

"Yes, I do." Bo thought she'd feel trapped by such a promise, but instead, she felt a sort of pride. She wanted to be the kind of person who followed through once she said she'd do something, and this was her chance.

Trick had dismissed the guard, and told her from that point forward, she was in the compound under her own recognizance. She wondered what Lauren would think, then decided that perhaps Dr. Lewis should be knocked down a couple of pegs. Trick clearly outranked her, and Bo took vindictive pleasure in having someone other than Lauren call the shots for a change.

She found out later that it had been Lauren's idea.

At some point, Bo would be asked to choose a side, but that day was not today.

Bo felt secure in some ways for the first time in her life. People knew who and what she was, and she was viewed as something new and exciting. She hadn't needed to hunt since she left the compound. Every night that she wanted one - and lately, she didn't - she had a new lover more than willing to take her to bed.

She never took them to her place, and once the sex was over, she didn't stay.

They all seemed to want her to be some sex goddess or BDSM dominatrix all day every day. It had been fun at first - hot, even, but now it was boring. More than boring, it was...

It was sad. It made her feel sad. None of her bedmates could see past her biology. Once the orgasms were out of the way, once they'd experienced a feed first-hand, they either lost interest and stopped returning her calls, or wanted to level up to some new kinky fantasy they'd devised. They wanted to fuck her, but they didn't see her.

Though Bo had bedded Fae of all kinds and fed well, she had not, however, taken a single human lover - nor fed from one - since leaving the compound.

The experiment had been too formal for Bo, but she didn't get to make the rules anymore. Set in one of the labs, with all kinds of electrodes and probes attached to her and her human quarry, she'd been clad in yet another hospital gown, while he'd been wearing flannel pajama pants.

He'd seemed relaxed, and Bo hadn't smelled any nervousness on him. She'd wished she'd had his confidence.

"Not exactly how I like to get down," he'd said with a charming smile, and it was obvious he was trying to get her to relax.

"You and me both," Bo had said in kind.

He was a big man with broad shoulders, well-defined muscles and narrow hips, and when he'd grasped her waist with a firm yet gentle touch, Bo was ready.

He tasted sweet, like a fresh, young white wine in early summer, and his growing arousal only made him taste sweeter. So good, so ripe - she drank deeply.

Someone spoke nearby, tone urgent, but she wasn't finished yet. Someone pulled on her arms, but she was stronger - strong enough to hold him up when he fell. His flavor changed, but it was still fine though it was fading, and she wanted every little bit of that delicious chi on her tongue -

Her vision went red, every muscle froze, and she dropped him as she herself was shocked to the floor.

By the time the effects of the taser wore off, he was dead, and she screamed at her failure.

The staff had tried to calm her down, but it didn't help. She was inconsolable. For two days, she stayed in her bed in her quarters. She didn't eat and turned away any offers to feed.

The sound of the door opening didn't affect her, but the scent that reached her heightened senses seconds later made her open her eyes. though she didn't otherwise move.

Bo hadn't seen or spoken to Lauren in weeks.

She felt the stir of someone sitting on the bed, and prayed she wasn't about to hear another litany of it-wasn't-her-fault-that-she-couldn't-help-it when it damned sure was and she damned sure could.

"Evan Flannerty was 38 years old."

Bo felt something in her chest tighten, and tears blurred her vision, but she didn't roll over.

"He was born and raised in the world of the Fae, and was granted leave to attend university. He moved to this colony several years ago after completing several advanced degrees. He pledged service to the Light Fae and, due to his credentials, worked in the laboratories here as a researcher."

Bo listened. Though the tears came so quickly she couldn't blink them away, she craved every word. So many times she'd fed and killed with no idea who her victims were.

She didn't want to kill, she didn't want to be a murderer, and some part of her ached to know about them - the normal people with normal lives who walked through this world with love and hope and dreams - all things Bo didn't have in her own life, but wished she did.

"He liked outlaw country music and cheap domestic beer, and loved to dance. When he asked for time off, it was always to go camping with some friends of his who were wood nymphs. He would sing along to his music collection late at night in the labs when he thought he was alone."

Bo remembered his kind brown eyes and easy smile, and could picture him dancing a two-step on a honky-tonk floor. She sniffled, but didn't wipe the tears away.

"He was a brilliant scientist, and he believed as I do," Lauren said. "That you can learn control, and that you can have a full life. He volunteered to help you and knew exactly what the risks were. He was the one who studied the results of every feed that was measured, and knew you were ready to try to feed from a human, though he knew that you might not succeed."

Lauren stood, and Bo heard her take a deep breath.

"He would want you to keep trying."

Bo thought that Lauren would take the opportunity to chime in with her own views on the matter. Bo was surprised to discover that she wouldn't mind hearing what Lauren had to say.

Instead, all she heard was the door closing.

Kenzi prattled on about some exchange between Dyson and his partner Hale, but Bo wasn't really listening. She was thinking about how this new life of hers felt a little too tight, too restrictive. About how it was time to make another change.

It was time for her to leave.

Now that she knew who she was, now that she knew how to feed without killing, now that she knew how to find more of her kind, there was nothing really for her here.

Trick was family, but he was still a distant, powerful man with a whole world of responsibilities that Bo wanted no part of.

They met often for private suppers at the compound, and Trick was clear about his role as the Ash. He didn't want to be publicly known for showing any favoritism towards Bo, and suggested that they not broadcast that they were relatives, but he did want her to have everything she needed.

Eventually, though, he would want her to choose the Light Fae, and she wasn't sure that she could. Even worse, he might want her to play a more significant role in the world of the Fae, and she didn't want that. Becoming Dark Fae wasn't an option either, so it was best to not have to make the choice at all.

She knew people now, but they weren't her friends. She was still alone, and it was time for her to move on.

"Wonder what the Doc's doing here," Kenzi said.

Bo dropped a glass.

Several people within earshot started clapping while a few others shouted "Opa!" into the melee. She felt herself blush as she watched Lauren weaving in slow, measured steps through the crowd across the room.

"Idiots! It's not a plate!" Kenzi yelled, and Bo was grateful for the distraction while she hurried off to fetch a broom.

She wasn't sure what it was about Lauren that still got to her. Bo had to admit that she didn't really hate the woman anymore, but something indescribable had replaced it.

The door to her chambers was open. There wasn't much to pack - the few clothes she hadn't thrown out, a few books Trick had suggested she take with her -

A knock on the door got her attention.

Lauren cleared her throat as she stood just across the threshold. "May I come in?"

Bo laughed, but it wasn't a friendly sound. "That's rich, coming from you." Lauren had never asked her opinion about anything, and sure hadn't listened when it was given anyway.

Lauren frowned and stared at her own feet. "I suppose that's true."

When she didn't leave, Bo found herself wondering what Lauren wanted. She went back to collecting her things, overcome with the fear that Lauren might have the power to lock that door once again.

"You can come in, but I'm leaving in minute."

"That's actually why I'm here." Lauren walked to within arms reach and stretched out a hand. "I thought you might want these."

Bo was shocked to see the keys to her car.

"The tank's full," Lauren said, wiping her hands on her lab coat. "I figured that was the least we could do, all things considered."

"Yeah," Bo said, pocketing the key and trying to hide her relief. "The very least." She wasn't sure why she kept digging at this woman. Lauren had left her alone, as requested, though she had guided her treatment, and now had somehow made arrangements to save Bo's car. A car whose existence no one had acknowledged for months, probably for fear that Bo would try to leave.

Yet Lauren had come here, where she was not welcome, to give Bo back the heart of what Bo truly wanted - her freedom.

Bo didn't say another word.

Lauren shifted her weight. "Well," she said, but didn't say anything else.

Bo loaded the last few books into the box and tossed her jacket over the top. She glanced at Lauren, but there was something unreadable in her eyes, and Bo didn't want to stick around to figure it out.

She wanted out of here.

Bo walked towards the door.

"Good luck, Bo," Lauren said. "I hope things...go well for you. You deserve it."

Bo glanced back once before she left, and pretended she didn't see the shine in Lauren's downcast eyes.

Moments later, she asked around and got directions to the compound's garage. By the time she got there, she was itching with the need to leave, but stopped in surprise the moment her old yellow Camaro came into view.

Buffed and waxed to a shine, every dent, scuff and paint chip had been repaired. New tires graced the frame and the vinyl top had been replaced.

Like her life, it was renewed.

Bo finished sweeping up the glass shards while Kenzi babbled about some good deed Lauren had performed. Everyone, or at least it seemed like it to Bo, had a story about how they had been helped or saved by "the human doctor". She was a legend in a world of super-human abilities, even though she didn't have any herself.

Bo dumped the dustpan in a nearby bin, and stashed it along with the broom in a corner near the end of the bar, but didn't go back to work right away.

Instead, she leaned against the doorjamb, and stared at the only person in the room worthy of her attention.

Bo's world and Lauren's didn't intersect now that Bo wasn't in the compound. Now that she knew more about Lauren, Bo realized that the one night they'd met at the rave had been completely out of character for Lauren.

Bo thought about that night a lot, about the way Lauren had been playful yet seductive, open yet mysterious. She wanted to know that Lauren, not the cool, capable doctor everyone described.

Across the room, Lauren smiled as she continued her conversation with someone Bo didn't recognize. The warm, genuine expression brightened Lauren's face.

Bo knew people were waiting for their drinks, but she wanted to look at Lauren one more time.

Dressed casually in dark jeans, boots and a closed, loose brown leather jacket, Lauren stood at the end of the bar, gesturing with animation as she spoke. Her hair fell straight across her shoulders and back, and she tossed her head to move it when a few strands fell in front of her face.

She never once looked in Bo's direction. Bo was disappointed Lauren's smile wasn't directed at her, then irritated at herself for caring.

Lauren lifted two shot glasses of whiskey and handed one to her companion. After a toast, Lauren tossed it back like a pro then licked her lips in appreciation.

In that moment, Bo decided to stop lying to herself. Bo could still remember how those lips tasted. Her feelings about Lauren weren't as indefinable as she pretended. Confusion, yes. Curiosity, definitely. Frustration, abso-fucking-lutely. But not hatred, not anymore.

Mostly, Lauren filled her with a sense of wonder.

Against a tide of resistance that included uber-human powers greater than herself, as well as a bitter and uncooperative damned-near-feral untrained succubus, Lauren had done everything she could to make sure that no matter what Bo might have said or done, Bo would get what she needed - a path forward.

Lauren had changed Bo's entire life. In return, she had received Bo's contempt, yet she herself never lashed out. She was at once the ideal and the unattainable - giving to a fault, intelligent way beyond the average, sexy yet graceful and self-possessed, driven and devoted. In the quiet moments when Bo would allow it, the memory of that one night, those few moments between the dance and the downward spiral of Bo's appetites, had given Bo hope that one day she might have someone like that in her life.

But Lauren was also human, which dashed that hope against the rocks.

Across the room, Lauren turned her back and headed for the private office on the other side of the pub. In a moment, she was no longer visible.

Bo was sorry to see her go.

The life Bo had dreamt for herself was never going to be, and there would never be someone like Lauren by her side. She was a succubus, she was Fae, and no one would want to live a life with her that was defined by those things.

Yet for all she couldn't have, and though her heart ached, Bo knew her life was completely different now. All because of one Dr. Lauren Lewis.

Kenzi hollered at the bartender for another shot, and Bo sighed as she turned her head back to her work. She had a couple more hours of this shift and then she could go upstairs to her small apartment and get some sleep. Soon enough, Bo could plan the next phase of her life out of the colony.

Yet before she left town, Bo had one thing she must do. Now wasn't the place or time, but soon. She wasn't sure it was a good idea, but if she didn't do it, she thought she might regret it forever.

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TBC. Two to go. ~VB517