Disclaimer: The Night World is the property of L.J. Smith as are any of the
characters you recognise like Thierry, Hannah, Lupe etc.
Spoilers: All of the Night World books and my story Bound by Flame.
Author's Notes: Yay, I managed to get a part done this week, though I know it's a little late. My exams start this week so I'm not sure how many parts I'll be able to get done in the next two weeks but after that I should have loads of time to work on this story and a couple more that I've been thinking of.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, you guys are the best.
Redaura: Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you liked the chapter. No it's not Gwern she thought was in the kitchen buts it's someone who was already in the story. Sorry this updates a little late.
Mandy: Thank you so much, that's such a compliment. I'm not 100% sure about Diablo yet either but I do like writing him whether I like him or not I haven't quite decided.
Orange: Thanks so much, I'm glad you liked it. Hope you like this chapter as much.
Part 9.
Aniela lay in bed not listening to the song that was pounding out of her stereo. She couldn't understand what had happened to her the night before, she could remember everything up until she went outside and after that things got blurry; actually after that things disappeared. She didn't remember anything from when she left until she went back inside feeling light headed and disorientated. Later on she discovered a deep black bruise on her back and she had no idea how she could have managed to do it.
She felt this vague yet consuming urge to paint, not just an urge but a need to put all the conflicting and partial emotions she couldn't put into words onto a canvas. She couldn't understand it she'd gone out feeling fine and now she felt off, like she was missing something, something more than the few minutes she couldn't remember. She'd felt like that before, a tingling sensation that ran over her skin and outward making her feel connected to something other, something outside herself though this time it felt even stronger.
She slid out of bed and pulled on her favourite comfortable jeans and her painting shirt that had once been pure white but now had spots of different colours. She picked up her brushes, canvas and paints and deposited them on the patio. Her Dad had already gone to work and her Mom was gone shopping so she had the whole house to herself. She was glad because she preferred to be alone when she painted, there wasn't any real reason why, things just seemed to flow easier when she was by herself.
She squeezed out the different colours onto some greaseproof paper and smiled. There was just something about colours, even when she was younger colours had entranced her. She could remember spending hours lying back gazing at the sky mesmerised by all the different shades of blue she could see. She'd been a strange child and had grown up just as strange. She grinned at that thought and stuck her brush into a dark green paint.
Icarus stood outside the door of the Blessingways' guestroom; Des was asleep inside and he was supposed to wake her. If there was one thing he had learnt about Des in the few months they'd worked together it was that morning wasn't her best time. He peered around the door and grinned at her sleeping form. She looked pretty when she was asleep, sort of serene. She turned suddenly and mumbled something, something that if he were human he wouldn't have heard but with his enhanced hearing he heard her perfectly. She looked so sad when she said it he felt sad too and confused. He knew how Gwern loved Des and he couldn't understand why he'd leave her. He'd known Gwern for so long and he was his best friend and he knew he could do some stupid things but this wasn't like him. Icarus remembered how he'd been when Des left; he'd been a mess basically so Icarus couldn't understand why he would purposely stay away from her.
He approached the bed tentatively and shook her lightly.
"Des time to get up," he said gently but when she turned her back to him he realised the soft approach wasn't going to work. He shook her roughly and yelled, "Des time to get up."
"I heard you the first time," she muttered.
"Come one Des, Cynthia's been awake half the night and she doesn't want to leave me on my own so she won't go to bed until you get up."
"Okay, okay," Des replied, "you had to pull the guilt trip on me didn't you."
She swung her legs out of bed and dragged the rest of herself up slowly.
"Go on get out," she told Icarus with a slight grin, "and let me get dressed."
"Ahhh, come on Des can't I stay and watch the show," Icarus said with a teasing grin and wiggling eyebrows.
Des giggled then grabbed the pillow beside her and flung it at him, "Go on get out you pervert, get."
"Yes Ma'am," Icarus replied with a laugh and threw the pillow back at her.
Des laughed as Icarus retreated out of the room and began to root through her still packed bag looking for something to wear. She pulled on a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a black top before braiding her auburn hair into a thick, long plait. Cynthia wandered into the room as she was finishing up and flung herself on to the bed yawning widely.
Des smiled apologetically at her, "sorry about that, morning isn't exactly my best time."
"Yeah I figured as much," Cynthia said with a grin.
"So how was the night watch? Quiet?" Des asked.
"Very," Cynthia replied, "actually boring, which is good, nothing better than a boring job."
"That's true," Des said with a grin, "I'll call you later. Get some sleep."
"Sure thing," Cynthia replied and yawned again.
When Des got downstairs she found 'Rus and Wenona eating breakfast together chatting easily. Wenona's long black hair was twisted into a knot at her neck and she wore a pair of faded jeans and a green top complimenting her nutmeg coloured skin perfectly. Even in those ordinary clothes she looked so poised and elegant she made Des feel frumpy. She had this incredible composure that reminded Des of Aradia, the Maiden of all Witches.
"Hey Des," she said smiling brightly at her and dispelling any discomfort Des had been feeling.
"Hey Wenona, how're you this morning? I hope 'Rus isn't boring you too much."
"I'm fine," Wenona replied grinning, "and of course 'Rus isn't boring me, he's telling me some very interesting stories about you guys."
"Oh Goddess," Des said, "just remember you can only believe about half of what he says. He tends to embellish his exploits to impress girls."
"That's not true," Icarus responded, "I don't need to tell girls my exploits to impress them, my charm, wittiness and stunning good looks do that on their own."
Des rolled her eyes and Wenona laughed. "See what I have to deal with, " Des said to Wenona.
"It must be terrible, " Wenona replied grinning.
"Oh it is," Des told her and laughed as Icarus glared at her.
Outside the morning sun threw shadows across the lawns of the quiet neighbourhood. A figure stood under a tree, shadows dancing across his face and obscuring his features. With a smooth, slight movement of his wrist he flicked the ash from the tip of his cigarette and drew it to his lips. He narrowed his eyes observing the tall, blond young man who was sitting in an unremarkable, black car. His attention was trained on a house across the road from him and he didn't seem to notice anything around him, which was to his observer's advantage.
The figure watched as another blonde, this one female, joined him. She slid into the passenger seat and spoke with him for a moment. The exchange was short and apparently not sweet as the boy slammed the door angrily as he left the car. The watcher grinned, it was always good to see that the competition was in conflict. He turned his attention to the house where his real target lay.
Diablo marched down the street angrily. Charlotte had to be the most annoying person he'd ever meet. He sighed of course she wasn't really the problem and he knew it. His problem had long dark hair and dark brown eyes and just happened to be his soulmate, which had to be the biggest practical joke Fate had played in a long, long while. He clenched his teeth angrily why did it have to be a stupid, dumpy vermin. Okay well maybe she wasn't stupid exactly but she was vermin and that was enough, enough to get them both killed.
"Don't be stupid," he thought, "the only way this is going to get us both killed is if I'm in love with her and that's never going to happen, not in this lifetime or the next."
Aniela stared critically at the picture she'd just finished. She pursed her lips for a moment considering and then smiled, she liked it. The canvas was covered mostly in different shades of green and full of intricate brushstrokes that revealed a thick, tangled forest full of shadows and dark hidden places that looked as if sunlight had never touched them. She didn't know where the image had come from just like she didn't know what her sudden inclination for green was but that's what had come to her as she'd tried to put her feelings on the canvas.
She stretched soundlessly and smiled again, she felt better now, much better. There was nothing like painting to raise her spirits. "Now art thou sociable," she thought with a grin and began to collect her brushes to clean them. When she was done she'd ring Wenona and see what she was up to.
Diablo hissed angrily as he watched the girl potter around the patio. Her long, thick hair was constricted in a ponytail and she was wearing a white shirt that hung to her knees. He found himself studying her every movement and that angered him even more. He didn't even know how the hell he'd ended up there he had been on his way back to the house they were renting. This was going to be a bigger problem than he'd thought, maybe it would be best if he eliminated that problem but that would alert Wenona and as the newest arrivals they'd be the prime suspects. He'd just have to deal with it some other way, like keeping away from her. Yeah, that was a plan, he'd just keep away from her from now on.
Spoilers: All of the Night World books and my story Bound by Flame.
Author's Notes: Yay, I managed to get a part done this week, though I know it's a little late. My exams start this week so I'm not sure how many parts I'll be able to get done in the next two weeks but after that I should have loads of time to work on this story and a couple more that I've been thinking of.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, you guys are the best.
Redaura: Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you liked the chapter. No it's not Gwern she thought was in the kitchen buts it's someone who was already in the story. Sorry this updates a little late.
Mandy: Thank you so much, that's such a compliment. I'm not 100% sure about Diablo yet either but I do like writing him whether I like him or not I haven't quite decided.
Orange: Thanks so much, I'm glad you liked it. Hope you like this chapter as much.
Part 9.
Aniela lay in bed not listening to the song that was pounding out of her stereo. She couldn't understand what had happened to her the night before, she could remember everything up until she went outside and after that things got blurry; actually after that things disappeared. She didn't remember anything from when she left until she went back inside feeling light headed and disorientated. Later on she discovered a deep black bruise on her back and she had no idea how she could have managed to do it.
She felt this vague yet consuming urge to paint, not just an urge but a need to put all the conflicting and partial emotions she couldn't put into words onto a canvas. She couldn't understand it she'd gone out feeling fine and now she felt off, like she was missing something, something more than the few minutes she couldn't remember. She'd felt like that before, a tingling sensation that ran over her skin and outward making her feel connected to something other, something outside herself though this time it felt even stronger.
She slid out of bed and pulled on her favourite comfortable jeans and her painting shirt that had once been pure white but now had spots of different colours. She picked up her brushes, canvas and paints and deposited them on the patio. Her Dad had already gone to work and her Mom was gone shopping so she had the whole house to herself. She was glad because she preferred to be alone when she painted, there wasn't any real reason why, things just seemed to flow easier when she was by herself.
She squeezed out the different colours onto some greaseproof paper and smiled. There was just something about colours, even when she was younger colours had entranced her. She could remember spending hours lying back gazing at the sky mesmerised by all the different shades of blue she could see. She'd been a strange child and had grown up just as strange. She grinned at that thought and stuck her brush into a dark green paint.
Icarus stood outside the door of the Blessingways' guestroom; Des was asleep inside and he was supposed to wake her. If there was one thing he had learnt about Des in the few months they'd worked together it was that morning wasn't her best time. He peered around the door and grinned at her sleeping form. She looked pretty when she was asleep, sort of serene. She turned suddenly and mumbled something, something that if he were human he wouldn't have heard but with his enhanced hearing he heard her perfectly. She looked so sad when she said it he felt sad too and confused. He knew how Gwern loved Des and he couldn't understand why he'd leave her. He'd known Gwern for so long and he was his best friend and he knew he could do some stupid things but this wasn't like him. Icarus remembered how he'd been when Des left; he'd been a mess basically so Icarus couldn't understand why he would purposely stay away from her.
He approached the bed tentatively and shook her lightly.
"Des time to get up," he said gently but when she turned her back to him he realised the soft approach wasn't going to work. He shook her roughly and yelled, "Des time to get up."
"I heard you the first time," she muttered.
"Come one Des, Cynthia's been awake half the night and she doesn't want to leave me on my own so she won't go to bed until you get up."
"Okay, okay," Des replied, "you had to pull the guilt trip on me didn't you."
She swung her legs out of bed and dragged the rest of herself up slowly.
"Go on get out," she told Icarus with a slight grin, "and let me get dressed."
"Ahhh, come on Des can't I stay and watch the show," Icarus said with a teasing grin and wiggling eyebrows.
Des giggled then grabbed the pillow beside her and flung it at him, "Go on get out you pervert, get."
"Yes Ma'am," Icarus replied with a laugh and threw the pillow back at her.
Des laughed as Icarus retreated out of the room and began to root through her still packed bag looking for something to wear. She pulled on a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a black top before braiding her auburn hair into a thick, long plait. Cynthia wandered into the room as she was finishing up and flung herself on to the bed yawning widely.
Des smiled apologetically at her, "sorry about that, morning isn't exactly my best time."
"Yeah I figured as much," Cynthia said with a grin.
"So how was the night watch? Quiet?" Des asked.
"Very," Cynthia replied, "actually boring, which is good, nothing better than a boring job."
"That's true," Des said with a grin, "I'll call you later. Get some sleep."
"Sure thing," Cynthia replied and yawned again.
When Des got downstairs she found 'Rus and Wenona eating breakfast together chatting easily. Wenona's long black hair was twisted into a knot at her neck and she wore a pair of faded jeans and a green top complimenting her nutmeg coloured skin perfectly. Even in those ordinary clothes she looked so poised and elegant she made Des feel frumpy. She had this incredible composure that reminded Des of Aradia, the Maiden of all Witches.
"Hey Des," she said smiling brightly at her and dispelling any discomfort Des had been feeling.
"Hey Wenona, how're you this morning? I hope 'Rus isn't boring you too much."
"I'm fine," Wenona replied grinning, "and of course 'Rus isn't boring me, he's telling me some very interesting stories about you guys."
"Oh Goddess," Des said, "just remember you can only believe about half of what he says. He tends to embellish his exploits to impress girls."
"That's not true," Icarus responded, "I don't need to tell girls my exploits to impress them, my charm, wittiness and stunning good looks do that on their own."
Des rolled her eyes and Wenona laughed. "See what I have to deal with, " Des said to Wenona.
"It must be terrible, " Wenona replied grinning.
"Oh it is," Des told her and laughed as Icarus glared at her.
Outside the morning sun threw shadows across the lawns of the quiet neighbourhood. A figure stood under a tree, shadows dancing across his face and obscuring his features. With a smooth, slight movement of his wrist he flicked the ash from the tip of his cigarette and drew it to his lips. He narrowed his eyes observing the tall, blond young man who was sitting in an unremarkable, black car. His attention was trained on a house across the road from him and he didn't seem to notice anything around him, which was to his observer's advantage.
The figure watched as another blonde, this one female, joined him. She slid into the passenger seat and spoke with him for a moment. The exchange was short and apparently not sweet as the boy slammed the door angrily as he left the car. The watcher grinned, it was always good to see that the competition was in conflict. He turned his attention to the house where his real target lay.
Diablo marched down the street angrily. Charlotte had to be the most annoying person he'd ever meet. He sighed of course she wasn't really the problem and he knew it. His problem had long dark hair and dark brown eyes and just happened to be his soulmate, which had to be the biggest practical joke Fate had played in a long, long while. He clenched his teeth angrily why did it have to be a stupid, dumpy vermin. Okay well maybe she wasn't stupid exactly but she was vermin and that was enough, enough to get them both killed.
"Don't be stupid," he thought, "the only way this is going to get us both killed is if I'm in love with her and that's never going to happen, not in this lifetime or the next."
Aniela stared critically at the picture she'd just finished. She pursed her lips for a moment considering and then smiled, she liked it. The canvas was covered mostly in different shades of green and full of intricate brushstrokes that revealed a thick, tangled forest full of shadows and dark hidden places that looked as if sunlight had never touched them. She didn't know where the image had come from just like she didn't know what her sudden inclination for green was but that's what had come to her as she'd tried to put her feelings on the canvas.
She stretched soundlessly and smiled again, she felt better now, much better. There was nothing like painting to raise her spirits. "Now art thou sociable," she thought with a grin and began to collect her brushes to clean them. When she was done she'd ring Wenona and see what she was up to.
Diablo hissed angrily as he watched the girl potter around the patio. Her long, thick hair was constricted in a ponytail and she was wearing a white shirt that hung to her knees. He found himself studying her every movement and that angered him even more. He didn't even know how the hell he'd ended up there he had been on his way back to the house they were renting. This was going to be a bigger problem than he'd thought, maybe it would be best if he eliminated that problem but that would alert Wenona and as the newest arrivals they'd be the prime suspects. He'd just have to deal with it some other way, like keeping away from her. Yeah, that was a plan, he'd just keep away from her from now on.