A/N: Here's the next one. Thanks to all my great reviewers-love you guys! Hope my work is continuing to be halfway decent. Please R&R.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Dark Angel or any of the characters. Fox, James Cameron and more rich people are the lucky ones to claim ownership. Really, though, they can keep the show and the characters, as long as they don't stop me from writing fanfiction. And as long as they give me Alec.
Chapter Eight
_____________________________________________________________________________
Premonitions
Logan Cale's Apartment
Seattle, Wa., September 10th, 2021
The liquor bottle burned hot against his lips; alcohol descended his throat,
burning a torturously slow path to his stomach. He gasped lightly, eyes watering, the
bottle trembling in shaking hands.
Through an alcohol-induced haze, Logan dimly perceived the melodious chime of
the old grandfather ushering in a new hour. He turned his head, and blurry eyes squinted
to read the time.
3:00 in the morning. And mountains of work awaited him still, beckoning to this
limp, miserable figure sprawled across the couch.
*Screw it.* he thought, taking another drink. *Besides, it's not like I'm the only one
awake at this hour not doing anything productive. Why, I'm sure Max and Alec are up
right now, screwing one another's brains out.* Another drink. *I guess it was too much to
ask, for her to wait until we figure this virus thing out. She went off and found someone
else; someone like her. Probably figured the sex would be better that way.*
He laughed drunkenly, bitterness ringing in the slurred chuckles. *We had
something, Max. Something more than sex. And you threw it away for some
small-brained, walking ego just because he had a few good moves in bed.*
The room swayed and pitched before him. He clutched the bottle possessively to
his chest, and his lips sought its opening again.
*So, what's it like? Screwing another transgenic, I mean. Must be great. He's so
powerful; I mean, compared to Eyes Only the cripple, of course. And Manticore did well
with the selective breeding, with his face. It's not like he gets many complaints.*
More liquor found its way through his system. *I hope he at least makes you
happy, Max. But then, who wouldn't be happy with a hormonally-overloaded member of
the opposite sex ready to go at any moment-one with incredible stamina, at that? I'm
sure Manticore made you as talented at sex as it did in other areas.*
*Maybe it's supposed to be this way. After all, you were assigned as breeding
partners. I guess Renfro didn't realize what a good match-maker she was.*
A cough rattled his throat as the liquid seared flesh. He squeezed his eyes shut,
waiting it out.
"So Max...here's to you. And Alec." Logan murmured aloud, and gulped deeply.
"I don't need ice." she muttered irritably, giving Alec a dark look as he came for
her, bearing an ice pack he'd concocted from several ice cubes and a cloth pilfered from
beneath the sink.
"Hold still. And for Christ's sake, Max-I'm not going to bite you."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Looks painful." he said, eyeing her bruises, in particular the nasty one ringing
her left eye.
"Yeah, well some people deal with pain better than others."
Alec sighed. "Max, I'm just tryin' to help. Now either we do this the hard way,
or we do it the easy way. It's your choice."
She back away from him, until her ass bumped the counter, and she found herself
trapped between a hard wall of muscle and ancient wood, the latter damp from the
slightly leaky roof. "I don't have time for this! I need to get over to Logan's, find out
who the hell this guy is."
"Just hold still." He brought the ice pack slowly, carefully to her black eye. She
hissed and pulled away.
"It's cold, dammit!"
Alec smirked. "I've observed over my years that ice is generally cold; some
marvel of science that took me a long time to grasp."
She glowered at him. "Smart ass."
He shrugged. "Better than bein' a dumb ass. Now Jesus, Max-you're bein' worse
about this than me. I don't want to hear anymore complainin' about what a sissy I am
when I get hurt." His fingers gently probed the ebony discoloring of her flesh, and when
she winced but didn't pull away, he touched the ice pack once more to her.
He stood near, placing his body directly in front of her, and the sight of his hard,
muscular abdomen suddenly raised goosebumps all up her arms. She averted her gaze,
pressing herself as closely as possible to the counter at her back.
"You're bleeding again."
"Happens when you get hit by a bullet." His free hand moved unconsciously to
her stomach, bracing lightly there, and his breath stirred the hair tumbling down across
shoulders that had begun to heave with a bit more force than necessary.
"It was healing." she said, peering up into his eyes.
"Our playtime ripped it open again."
"Would you let it go?" Max hissed, forcefully removing his hand from her
abdomen. "Logan isn't here; you don't have to keep pretending we had sex. There was,
never has been, and never will be any 'playtime.'"
"I was referring to that little incident where you were attempting to remove my
family jewels and I pulled you down on me. All that movement ripped my shoulder open
again."
"Maybe you should be more careful who you piss off."
"Maybe you should show a little more respect for the mortally wounded.
Especially the mortally wounded who get their perfect asses shot up just in the interest of
savin' *yours*."
"It's not like I've never saved your ass before. If you didn't do so many stupid
thin-'
"And you know, I'm still waiting for that prize." he continued, cutting short her
little tirade.
"I'm not giving you some damn prize just because you were stupid enough to
jump in front of me."
"If I hadn't been 'stupid' enough to jump in front of you, you wouldn't be here
right now. You said so yourself. And most females would be a lot more grateful, having
a stud like me swoop in to save the day."
She snorted. "My ass."
"In the movies girls give out kisses for a lot less than what I did for you. So I'm
thinking' that's the least you owe me."
"Like hell! Why would I want to kiss you? God only knows how many different
mouths your tongue's been in."
"I haven't had any complaints about my tongue-or my lips-yet. The ladies don't
seem to mind them." He moved the cloth down her face, to a bruise by her mouth, the
ice sending tremors all throughout her body. His wrist drooped gently to the fullness of
her lips, and she whipped her head back as though burned. "So who do you think this
guy was?"
She shrugged. "Haven't a clue. He just came out of nowhere all of a sudden and
attacked me. He booked as soon as I caught a glimpse of his barcode."
"You think it's someone like Ben? Some Manticore escapee gone psycho?" Alec
asked softly, his eyes flicking to hers.
She swallowed hard and looked away, the abrupt harshness of tears stinging her
gaze. "He sure as hell isn't a law-abiding citizen. Must have seen me and figured I was
some defenseless female-an easy target. Maybe he was just hungry, needed some
cash-maybe he just wanted to mug me. But his eyes..." She paused, swallowing again
and blinking. Alec stepped back, perusing her face. "They looked just like Ben's after
he cracked. There was just something about them. He looked...crazy. Like something
wasn't right in his head."
"So what are you going to do now?"
"Talk to Logan. Maybe he can get a lead on the guy. Then I'll hunt him down.
I want to get ahold of him before he does any damage."
"I'll come with you." He set the ice pack aside. " 'Bout time I got out of this
damn place."
"You're still bleeding."
"Yeah, I noticed that myself." He smirked.
Her lips twisted in a scowl. "I'm not bringing a cripple along for the ride."
"Cripple? *Cripple*, Max? Jesus, of all the ways to injure a man's ego-"
"Like your ego doesn't need any injuring." she said, rolling her eyes. "You're
staying. I don't want you passing out on me or something."
"Ma-ax. I've been lying around like a pile of dirty laundry for, what, 4 days now?
I'll go insane if I have to stay here for another second." he whined.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Cry me a river. Besides, I'm still pissed at you."
"What difference does that make? There's nothing new or exciting about you
being pissed at me. Happens all the time."
"Only because you're such an asshole. You make me out to be some constantly
PMSing psycho bitch when all our fights are actually you're fault."
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "If the shoe fits..."
"Shut up. How the hell is this supposed to persuade me to bring you along?" she
demanded incredulously.
He drew an arm over her shoulder, hugging her lithe frame to his side and
bending to whisper conspiratorially in one ear. "Because you want me. Admit it Max."
"You wi-"
Suddenly his lips closed hotly over her ear, teeth nipping gently at the sensitive
flesh, and sending an undulation of pleasure all throughout her. His tongue danced over
her earlobe for a single moment, tracing its delicate shape with frustrating leisure.
She flung him violently away, into the cupboards opposite the counter, hands
surging to her hips. "What the *hell* do you think you're doing?"
He grimaced, rubbing at the portion of his lower back which had connected
painfully with solid wood. "Come on, Max; don't tell me that didn't turn you on."
"Who the hell gave you permission to paw me?" she spat.
"Just tryin' to prove a point."
"And what point would that be, exactly?"
He smirked. "That you find me irresistible-just like every other woman in Seattle
who's batting for the home team."
"You're such a bastard."
"You're such a bitch."
"Yeah? Well maybe the reason I'm such a bitch is because I have to deal with
*you* all the tim-"
The world exploded around them in a sudden eruption of searing heat and flying
glass, the blast lifting Max off her feet and flinging her slender body into Alec with a
viciousness sufficient to plunge him, reeling, against the dilapidated sink. They fell
together, her name parting his lips in a single cry before bone cracked on metal, and his
surroundings dissipated into ebony fog.
Their screams perforated the serenity of the night, horrified, desperate pleas
failing to rend any sympathy from the black souls before them.
The car rocked beneath another blow, shattering glass, plunging remnants of the
windshield into these children's faces. They clung tightly to one another, sobbing into
the evening, shabby clothes soaked in tears.
"Don't hurt us! Please!" they begged pitifully, their cries all but lost in the
maniacal shrieking of those surrounding the rusted junker.
"Kill the trannies!"
Beneath the effulgent glow of moonlight, the barest hint of barcodes could be
detected beneath layers of unwashed, unkempt manes, outlined now in silver.
As they wept, clutching one another, something clanged against the hood of their
refuge. It clattered to a rest before the destroyed windshield, and wide doe eyes turned
for a single moment to contemplate this object before it detonated, and the car burst into
flames.
The childrens' cries disappeared behind the explosion, and the fire swallowed the
vehicle whole, its ferocious touch rippling clear across the street to the shabby old house
there, and imploding the windows.
His hands caressed the silken flesh of her throat with ambiguous tenderness, and
she succumbed to the fervent roaming of his hands.
He shed his coat as he pushed her down to the couch, his lips exploring the curves
of her face, his body thrusting hard against her own. She moaned and arched reflexively
beneath him, bringing up a hand to trace the marks of the barcode tattooed over his neck,
parting his lips with her tongue and plunging into him.
His fingers spasmed into her hair, gouging the scalp, drawing blood with the
ferocity of their scrabbling.
"That hurts!" she gasped, breaking their kiss to pull back and look him in the eye.
He smiled, and wicked intent shimmered in his gaze.
She had a single moment to feel terror before his hands closed on either side of
her head, and with a deft twist, snapped her neck.
Her body sagged to the couch beneath them, and a second later gnashing teeth
punctured the hollow of her throat.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Dark Angel or any of the characters. Fox, James Cameron and more rich people are the lucky ones to claim ownership. Really, though, they can keep the show and the characters, as long as they don't stop me from writing fanfiction. And as long as they give me Alec.
Chapter Eight
_____________________________________________________________________________
Premonitions
Logan Cale's Apartment
Seattle, Wa., September 10th, 2021
The liquor bottle burned hot against his lips; alcohol descended his throat,
burning a torturously slow path to his stomach. He gasped lightly, eyes watering, the
bottle trembling in shaking hands.
Through an alcohol-induced haze, Logan dimly perceived the melodious chime of
the old grandfather ushering in a new hour. He turned his head, and blurry eyes squinted
to read the time.
3:00 in the morning. And mountains of work awaited him still, beckoning to this
limp, miserable figure sprawled across the couch.
*Screw it.* he thought, taking another drink. *Besides, it's not like I'm the only one
awake at this hour not doing anything productive. Why, I'm sure Max and Alec are up
right now, screwing one another's brains out.* Another drink. *I guess it was too much to
ask, for her to wait until we figure this virus thing out. She went off and found someone
else; someone like her. Probably figured the sex would be better that way.*
He laughed drunkenly, bitterness ringing in the slurred chuckles. *We had
something, Max. Something more than sex. And you threw it away for some
small-brained, walking ego just because he had a few good moves in bed.*
The room swayed and pitched before him. He clutched the bottle possessively to
his chest, and his lips sought its opening again.
*So, what's it like? Screwing another transgenic, I mean. Must be great. He's so
powerful; I mean, compared to Eyes Only the cripple, of course. And Manticore did well
with the selective breeding, with his face. It's not like he gets many complaints.*
More liquor found its way through his system. *I hope he at least makes you
happy, Max. But then, who wouldn't be happy with a hormonally-overloaded member of
the opposite sex ready to go at any moment-one with incredible stamina, at that? I'm
sure Manticore made you as talented at sex as it did in other areas.*
*Maybe it's supposed to be this way. After all, you were assigned as breeding
partners. I guess Renfro didn't realize what a good match-maker she was.*
A cough rattled his throat as the liquid seared flesh. He squeezed his eyes shut,
waiting it out.
"So Max...here's to you. And Alec." Logan murmured aloud, and gulped deeply.
"I don't need ice." she muttered irritably, giving Alec a dark look as he came for
her, bearing an ice pack he'd concocted from several ice cubes and a cloth pilfered from
beneath the sink.
"Hold still. And for Christ's sake, Max-I'm not going to bite you."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Looks painful." he said, eyeing her bruises, in particular the nasty one ringing
her left eye.
"Yeah, well some people deal with pain better than others."
Alec sighed. "Max, I'm just tryin' to help. Now either we do this the hard way,
or we do it the easy way. It's your choice."
She back away from him, until her ass bumped the counter, and she found herself
trapped between a hard wall of muscle and ancient wood, the latter damp from the
slightly leaky roof. "I don't have time for this! I need to get over to Logan's, find out
who the hell this guy is."
"Just hold still." He brought the ice pack slowly, carefully to her black eye. She
hissed and pulled away.
"It's cold, dammit!"
Alec smirked. "I've observed over my years that ice is generally cold; some
marvel of science that took me a long time to grasp."
She glowered at him. "Smart ass."
He shrugged. "Better than bein' a dumb ass. Now Jesus, Max-you're bein' worse
about this than me. I don't want to hear anymore complainin' about what a sissy I am
when I get hurt." His fingers gently probed the ebony discoloring of her flesh, and when
she winced but didn't pull away, he touched the ice pack once more to her.
He stood near, placing his body directly in front of her, and the sight of his hard,
muscular abdomen suddenly raised goosebumps all up her arms. She averted her gaze,
pressing herself as closely as possible to the counter at her back.
"You're bleeding again."
"Happens when you get hit by a bullet." His free hand moved unconsciously to
her stomach, bracing lightly there, and his breath stirred the hair tumbling down across
shoulders that had begun to heave with a bit more force than necessary.
"It was healing." she said, peering up into his eyes.
"Our playtime ripped it open again."
"Would you let it go?" Max hissed, forcefully removing his hand from her
abdomen. "Logan isn't here; you don't have to keep pretending we had sex. There was,
never has been, and never will be any 'playtime.'"
"I was referring to that little incident where you were attempting to remove my
family jewels and I pulled you down on me. All that movement ripped my shoulder open
again."
"Maybe you should be more careful who you piss off."
"Maybe you should show a little more respect for the mortally wounded.
Especially the mortally wounded who get their perfect asses shot up just in the interest of
savin' *yours*."
"It's not like I've never saved your ass before. If you didn't do so many stupid
thin-'
"And you know, I'm still waiting for that prize." he continued, cutting short her
little tirade.
"I'm not giving you some damn prize just because you were stupid enough to
jump in front of me."
"If I hadn't been 'stupid' enough to jump in front of you, you wouldn't be here
right now. You said so yourself. And most females would be a lot more grateful, having
a stud like me swoop in to save the day."
She snorted. "My ass."
"In the movies girls give out kisses for a lot less than what I did for you. So I'm
thinking' that's the least you owe me."
"Like hell! Why would I want to kiss you? God only knows how many different
mouths your tongue's been in."
"I haven't had any complaints about my tongue-or my lips-yet. The ladies don't
seem to mind them." He moved the cloth down her face, to a bruise by her mouth, the
ice sending tremors all throughout her body. His wrist drooped gently to the fullness of
her lips, and she whipped her head back as though burned. "So who do you think this
guy was?"
She shrugged. "Haven't a clue. He just came out of nowhere all of a sudden and
attacked me. He booked as soon as I caught a glimpse of his barcode."
"You think it's someone like Ben? Some Manticore escapee gone psycho?" Alec
asked softly, his eyes flicking to hers.
She swallowed hard and looked away, the abrupt harshness of tears stinging her
gaze. "He sure as hell isn't a law-abiding citizen. Must have seen me and figured I was
some defenseless female-an easy target. Maybe he was just hungry, needed some
cash-maybe he just wanted to mug me. But his eyes..." She paused, swallowing again
and blinking. Alec stepped back, perusing her face. "They looked just like Ben's after
he cracked. There was just something about them. He looked...crazy. Like something
wasn't right in his head."
"So what are you going to do now?"
"Talk to Logan. Maybe he can get a lead on the guy. Then I'll hunt him down.
I want to get ahold of him before he does any damage."
"I'll come with you." He set the ice pack aside. " 'Bout time I got out of this
damn place."
"You're still bleeding."
"Yeah, I noticed that myself." He smirked.
Her lips twisted in a scowl. "I'm not bringing a cripple along for the ride."
"Cripple? *Cripple*, Max? Jesus, of all the ways to injure a man's ego-"
"Like your ego doesn't need any injuring." she said, rolling her eyes. "You're
staying. I don't want you passing out on me or something."
"Ma-ax. I've been lying around like a pile of dirty laundry for, what, 4 days now?
I'll go insane if I have to stay here for another second." he whined.
She shrugged nonchalantly. "Cry me a river. Besides, I'm still pissed at you."
"What difference does that make? There's nothing new or exciting about you
being pissed at me. Happens all the time."
"Only because you're such an asshole. You make me out to be some constantly
PMSing psycho bitch when all our fights are actually you're fault."
He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "If the shoe fits..."
"Shut up. How the hell is this supposed to persuade me to bring you along?" she
demanded incredulously.
He drew an arm over her shoulder, hugging her lithe frame to his side and
bending to whisper conspiratorially in one ear. "Because you want me. Admit it Max."
"You wi-"
Suddenly his lips closed hotly over her ear, teeth nipping gently at the sensitive
flesh, and sending an undulation of pleasure all throughout her. His tongue danced over
her earlobe for a single moment, tracing its delicate shape with frustrating leisure.
She flung him violently away, into the cupboards opposite the counter, hands
surging to her hips. "What the *hell* do you think you're doing?"
He grimaced, rubbing at the portion of his lower back which had connected
painfully with solid wood. "Come on, Max; don't tell me that didn't turn you on."
"Who the hell gave you permission to paw me?" she spat.
"Just tryin' to prove a point."
"And what point would that be, exactly?"
He smirked. "That you find me irresistible-just like every other woman in Seattle
who's batting for the home team."
"You're such a bastard."
"You're such a bitch."
"Yeah? Well maybe the reason I'm such a bitch is because I have to deal with
*you* all the tim-"
The world exploded around them in a sudden eruption of searing heat and flying
glass, the blast lifting Max off her feet and flinging her slender body into Alec with a
viciousness sufficient to plunge him, reeling, against the dilapidated sink. They fell
together, her name parting his lips in a single cry before bone cracked on metal, and his
surroundings dissipated into ebony fog.
Their screams perforated the serenity of the night, horrified, desperate pleas
failing to rend any sympathy from the black souls before them.
The car rocked beneath another blow, shattering glass, plunging remnants of the
windshield into these children's faces. They clung tightly to one another, sobbing into
the evening, shabby clothes soaked in tears.
"Don't hurt us! Please!" they begged pitifully, their cries all but lost in the
maniacal shrieking of those surrounding the rusted junker.
"Kill the trannies!"
Beneath the effulgent glow of moonlight, the barest hint of barcodes could be
detected beneath layers of unwashed, unkempt manes, outlined now in silver.
As they wept, clutching one another, something clanged against the hood of their
refuge. It clattered to a rest before the destroyed windshield, and wide doe eyes turned
for a single moment to contemplate this object before it detonated, and the car burst into
flames.
The childrens' cries disappeared behind the explosion, and the fire swallowed the
vehicle whole, its ferocious touch rippling clear across the street to the shabby old house
there, and imploding the windows.
His hands caressed the silken flesh of her throat with ambiguous tenderness, and
she succumbed to the fervent roaming of his hands.
He shed his coat as he pushed her down to the couch, his lips exploring the curves
of her face, his body thrusting hard against her own. She moaned and arched reflexively
beneath him, bringing up a hand to trace the marks of the barcode tattooed over his neck,
parting his lips with her tongue and plunging into him.
His fingers spasmed into her hair, gouging the scalp, drawing blood with the
ferocity of their scrabbling.
"That hurts!" she gasped, breaking their kiss to pull back and look him in the eye.
He smiled, and wicked intent shimmered in his gaze.
She had a single moment to feel terror before his hands closed on either side of
her head, and with a deft twist, snapped her neck.
Her body sagged to the couch beneath them, and a second later gnashing teeth
punctured the hollow of her throat.