A/N: Good god almighty, could this actually be an update?! WOOT! I know it's been like four months and I apologize profusely. I had terrible writer's block throughout December, and then I moved in with some friends and let's just say that sometimes friends are truly enemies in disguise. ;-) I've been writing like mad all March, since I moved home and have been working on various stories I have in progress. After finally getting a Beta (Thanks a whole big bunches to LadyNiko who agreed to beta my stuff; she's been a big help to me many times on this story. Now, she gets to read everything I write in advance LOL BTW—I hope you like the changes I made.) Thursday, (March 25, 2004) I needed some MP inspiration, so I decided to have a PretenderFest. I spent hours pouring over my recorded episodes of TP and wrote down some of MP's dialogue, watched her actions, her movements, facial expressions. I feel I now have a better understanding of MP and her actions. Plus, I needed a refresher course since it had been a while since I saw many of those episodes. ***Reminder*** I gave MP the first name of Ayngil for no other reason than I thought it was cool. In Chapter Five, Jarod says Miss Parker's name after doing the horizontal bop with her, but for obvious reasons, I edited the content of that chapter and that part was, unfortunately, edited out as well. Check my bio for a link to where you can read the entire thing :-)
Again, I have lots of thanks I want to say for those who took the time to read and review, and for those who might have read but didn't review. What is a writer without a reader? Someone who simply puts a bunch of meaningless letters on a piece of paper. Thanks to Nancers, Heidi, and the rest of the loons who welcomed me home with open arms. I missed everyone!
Disclaimer: The Pretender and all its characters belong to whoever they belong to (not me) and this is obviously not for any gain, except to entertain. The Dark-Hunters and all characters associated with it belong to Sherrilyn Kenyon, who is one of my favorite authors and a nice person to boot. I simply wanted to play with everyone. :-) The song for this chappie is Deftones Change (In the House of Flies) from the Queen of the Damned Soundtrack (I thought it was apropos).
Synopsis: Miss Parker has finally decided to fight for the one thing she was convinced she could never have: A happy life with Jarod. So what does she do? Read and find out (that's half the fun, ya know?) Unfortunately, Jarod's life just got a lot more complicated.
On With the Show…
Change
I've watched you change
Into a fly
I looked away
You were on fire
I watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So Alive
I've watched you change
I took you home
Set you on the glass
I pulled off your wings
Then I laughed
I watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So alive
I've watched you change
It's like you never
Had wings ahhh ahh ahhh
I look at the cross
Then I look away
Give you the lungs to
Blow me away
I've watched a change
In you
It's like you never
Had wings
Now you feel
So Alive
I've watched you change.
Now you feel Alive
You Feel Alive
I've watched you change
It's like you never
Had wings ahhh ahh ahhh
*******
Chapter Eight
Ayngil.
Ayngil.
The voice was insistent, cutting into her dreamless sleep. She wanted to ignore that voice, but she couldn't.
Ayngil, wake up, baby.
Parker opened her eyes. She groaned as she looked over at the bright, glaring red numbers on the alarm clock next to her borrowed bed, 3:48. That meant she'd been asleep for about four hours. Great, just great.
You can't give up, Ayngil. He needs you and you need him.
Parker wanted to desperately argue with her mother's voice. She just couldn't argue against the truth anymore. Help her, but she did need Jarod. He was hers, and she loved him. It had taken her a hell of a long time to admit it, but now that she had, she just couldn't give up on him, could she?
No, Parker decided. For years, no matter how she had rebuffed him, no matter how she had yelled at him, cursed at him or even shot at him, he'd never given up on her. Until recently, that is, she amended. She'd never given up trying to capture him when she had her mind set on it, even failure after failure. Parkers never give up; it was one of her father's favorite sayings, among the other supposed virtuous attributes that the Parkers possessed.
Whatever held Jarod back, she sure as hell wasn't going to let it stop her. Not now, not when she knew he needed her. She'd never before given up so easily on anything in her life, she wasn't about to start now.
Pulling the blankets back, Parker got up, determination hardening her features. Even if she had to storm the gates of Mount Olympus, or Tartarus itself to get Jarod's soul back, so help those that stood in her way, because she wasn't about to take no for an answer.
*******
As Jarod parked his bike in a deserted parking lot in the French Quarter, he cursed himself for being ten kinds of fool. He'd alienated the only person who could possibly save him from this life, and a stupider fool would never have been born if he didn't consider the fact that Parker was his soul mate and therefore the one woman who could return his soul to him.
The only thing that stopped him was his Dark-Hunter powers.
Before he could think about being with Parker, he needed to know what would drain his powers from him temporarily so that it would be possible to become human again. Otherwise he had no hope of a future with Parker, and a very long, lonely lifetime ahead of him as an immortal guardian.
Hell no.
For each Dark-Hunter it was different. Kyrian's out clause had been the physical sating of his pent up lust, something he hadn't done in over two thousand years. For Talon, it had been finally losing his temper and allowing himself to feel emotions he hadn't felt in over a thousand years. What would it be for Jarod? That was the catch. No one knew what would drain their powers. Talon had said it was whatever moment, feeling or emotion you equated to becoming a Dark-Hunter.
He sighed in frustration. If there was one thing he hated, it was ignorance. His mind had run simulation after simulation to come up with the solution to his problem but so far, nothing. He shrugged, not that it mattered. It wasn't as if Parker was going to be in New Orleans much longer anyway. His thoughts left him in a foul mood.
The rest of his night didn't go much better.
His mind was constantly drawn back to the haunted, longing look in Parker's eyes. For the first time in his life, Parker wanted to be with him. She was willing to forget their history and start over. Only this time, it was he who could not forget and was bound by a higher power. Gods, sometimes his life sucked. His dream was finally within reach, only his hands were tied by ancient Greek gods and blond psychics on an ego trip.
Unable to focus on more than his own personal problems, Jarod called it quits and headed back to his small, red brick house in the Garden District. He walked inside and paid little heed to the newspaper clippings lining the walls. They were literally everywhere. They ranged from airplane crashes overseas, to chemical spills and outbreaks of rare diseases in foreign countries. Reminders, all of them.
His was a dangerous gift. His mind worked like a computer, analyzing data and structuring answers to any and all puzzles based on the information provided. Even better than any computer, since he could understand elusive human emotions so well. It was why he was torturing himself now.
For decades, the Centre had used his genius for evil and for profit. Once he had escaped, he had tried to atone for it, at the cost of his family and everything else he had dreamed of while lying on his bed at night. It was those dreams that had fueled his desire to find a better life, they had kept him alive, and for all of his life, he had sacrificed them to simply survive.
He sighed heavily.
Here he was again, sacrificing his dreams for survival. All he had ever wanted was a family to cherish. His family. They were all forbidden him now. Even starting a family with Parker was forbidden since he was as sterile as a surgical knife. He walked upstairs heading for his bedroom, when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.
Nick had termed it his "spidey-sense," which wasn't entirely inaccurate, but it annoyed Jarod when Nick referred to his precognitive abilities like that. Right now, it was going crazy and Jarod had a sneaking suspicion that there was a Daimon in his house. That freaked him out. Daimons were unable to enter someone's house, unless invited. It was one of the few vampire myths that actually wasn't a myth. How the hell a Daimon had gotten into his house, he hadn't a clue, but he was certain that they would be nothing more than a pile of dust in a few moments for disturbing him.
His whole body tense, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his katana. He crouched lower to the ground, readying himself for an attack. His heart beat roared in his head, so he took several deep breaths to calm himself. He didn't need to freak out simply because some Daimon had found a way into his house.
Rounding a corner, Jarod was stunned into inaction by a lethally beautiful woman standing in the middle of his upstairs game room. Her black eyes seemed to be reading the articles that were pinned to the walls. When she saw him, her blood red lips curved into a predatory smile.
"I've been waiting for you, Jarod."
Her voice was throaty, it might have even been seductive and sexy as hell if not for the fact that her words rung ominous in Jarod's mind. She, too, might have been seductive and sexy if not for the deadly aura she projected. There was something not quite right about the situation, aside for the fact that she was standing in his house. It had everything to do with the fear the curled in the pit of Jarod's stomach. Since when had he ever been afraid of an encounter with a Daimon?
Her hair was long and blonde; her body tall and well toned. Her face was beautiful, though it could have been carved from stone. Aside from her smile, she hid all of her emotions behind a coldness that made Jarod want to shiver in spite of himself.
Instead of letting her know she'd rattled him, Jarod affected a bored pose and raised an eyebrow, "Should I pretend I'm afraid so that you don't feel your clichéd lines are wasted on me?" he quipped.
Her lip curled. "Do not mock me, Jarod. You have no idea what you're dealing with," she told him quietly.
Jarod put the back of his right hand against his forehead and rolled his eyes, "I'm so scared," he crossed his arms and smiled in satisfaction at the fury he saw smoldering in her eyes, "Please spare me the B-movie dialogue. For once, why can't you Daimons be blunt and to the point instead of making me listen to second rate threats that my little brother could outdo even on his worst day."
That succeeded in goading her into action. In less than the blink of an eye, she moved quicker than lightening and stood before Jarod with a jagged knife pressed against his throat.
Jarod didn't so much as let himself blink. He wouldn't dare give her the satisfaction.
"Perhaps you would like to join your little brother? I forgot. You can't. You have no soul," she paused to smile a very cold and satisfied smile. "Well, since you hold so little respect for me, allow me to inform you of who I am and what my intentions are."
Jarod rolled his eyes, "As if I had a choice," he muttered under his breath, hoping she hadn't seen how her remark about his brother had affected. Deeply.
Her jaw clenched, "My name is Akira. I am part of a group I am certain you know of quite well. We call ourselves the Triumvirate."
Jarod did raise an eyebrow to that. Well, this was certainly and interesting development. Things were starting to fall in place, things he hadn't been able to piece together, now he knew why. "So you must be the assassin I've been hearing about. I must say, you're much better looking than Lyle is. Glad they decided to throw another beautiful female at me. I like to be chased, or didn't you know?" Jarod leered, and it worked. Akira seemed taken aback for a second and it was all Jarod needed to make his move.
He swung his katana, but Akira was much too quick for him. She did a back flip, avoiding his sword and then kicked him in the stomach. The she grabbed his head and brought it down for a swift, hard collision with her knee. She whirled and stabbed him in the chest with her dagger and then sliced his stomach.
Jarod jumped back and weakly blocked her next deadly swing. He brought his katana down, but she parried with her own shorter blade, then stepped in and brought her foot down on Jarod's knee. He felt bone shatter and he knew then that if he didn't get the hell out of there, she was going to kill him.
It was the first time in two years that a Daimon had been able to kick his ass. Shit.
He went down on one knee, and did the only sane thing left for him to do. He dove between her legs, which in turn, knocked Akira off balance, and gave him the few precious seconds he needed. He got up, even though his broken knee refused to hold any weight, he mad a mad and very painful dash for a set of windows that lay to his left. With the last surge of energy, Jarod launched his body through the glass panes and newspaper clippings that lined even the window and landed in a very awkward roll in his front yard.
With a sense of deja vu, he glanced over his shoulder to see Akira standing in his window. He ran for his motorcycle and sped off, hoping he could make it someplace safe before he collapsed. Already he felt the seductive call for sleep, but he wasn't safe. Until he was, he couldn't rest.
He had a feeling that Akira wasn't about to let him slip through her grasp so easily either. Which meant he wasn't safe anywhere. Damn it. Just what he needed.
*******
In the intervening hours between her waking and sunrise, Miss Parker planned her assault. Mentally, she made a list of her goals.
One – Get Jarod's soul back
Two – Do whatever it took to get Jarod's soul back in his body
Three – Destroy the Centre
Four – Have at least two children with Jarod, a boy, and a girl
Five – Live happily ever after
She smiled at her last two thoughts. But those goals would have to wait until she figured out how to accomplish her first three priorities, and Parker was just as certain that accomplishing any of them would prove much harder than she ever thought possible.
By then, the sun had risen and Parker heard the sounds of her hosts rising and descending the stairs. She pulled her borrowed sneakers on, since that was the only item of clothing she'd shed the night before after Jarod had left.
She found a bathroom and quickly washed her face, rinsed her mouth, the best she could since she had no toothbrush. She managed to smooth her hair with nothing more than her fingers and some water. What she wouldn't have given for some make-up and hairspray. Lord knew she could have used a confidence booster and she had found her hair in a sleek style and dark make-up did the job. That and her 9mm. Besides, she had a feeling that she was going to need all the confidence she could muster today.
She looked over her appearance critically. It would have to do.
As she descended the stairs, she found Kyrian, Amanda, and Marissa in the kitchen. By the guilty look she found in Amanda's pretty blue eyes and the quietness that suddenly descended on the group, Parker knew she had interrupted a conversation where she was the main topic.
Deciding to get straight to the point, Parker took a deep breath and began. "I want Jarod's soul back and you two are going to help me do it."
Amanda simply blinked, while Kyrian threw his head back and laughed, "You've got guts, lady, I'll give you that."
Parker was not impressed. She raised an eyebrow and pulled her don't-mess-with-me face that had never failed to make Broots stammer and scurry to do her bidding. Though she knew she looked less impressive in her borrowed clothes, she was still formidable.
Though Amanda was dying of curiosity to see how Miss Parker would get her stubborn husband to cooperate with her, Amanda was also smart enough to get herself and her daughter out of the line of fire. She grabbed Marissa and made quiet excuses before heading for safer ground.
Icy blue eyes regarded twinkling hazel-green eyes, until Kyrian sighed and invited Miss Parker to sit at his kitchen table. He offered her a glass of orange juice, but Parker declined.
"I'm not thirsty."
Kyrian just shrugged while he poured himself a glass. He seemed to take forever to put the carton of juice away in the refrigerator and sit across from her. Parker gritted her teeth. Patience had never been her strongest suit.
He took a very long drink from his glass, all the while regarding her with his unsettling and direct gaze. He still looked sleep tousled, with his black t-shirt and his baggy gray sweat pants. Parker never broke his gaze, instead, she inwardly seethed, but something held her back from using her caustic tongue on the man. First, he was anything but a wimp if his direct and unimpressed gaze said anything about it; and second, he held valuable information and she somehow sensed trying to interrogate him would not help her.
"I don't know you and I don't really trust you, but Jarod does and that says a lot about you," Kyrian began.
Parker released her breath through her nostrils and raised an eyebrow. "Jarod is a naïve child and you know it," she challenged.
That elicited a chuckled from Kyrian, "Yes, but he's not stupid. There's something to be said for naiveté." His next question caught her off-guard. "Were you the one who put a bullet in his back?"
She wanted to evade his question. Hell, she didn't even want to remember that night. It wasn't like she could forget it. She still had the shell from that very same bullet sitting at home, a painful reminder of what she'd done.
"How did you know?" she finally managed to ask.
Kyrian didn't answer right away. He was still studying her, looking at her as if by doing so, he could uncover all her secret motivations.
"You know, it's not as simple as it sounds. You can't just hand Jarod his soul back. It doesn't matter how much you think you love him. If it's not enough, you'll fail and he will spend eternity in a hell more hellish than you can imagine."
Parker looked up then, realizing he was worried about Jarod. "If you knew how I felt about Jarod, you wouldn't be sitting there, you'd be helping me." Well, there it was. Parker almost winced as she realized what she'd said, but it had slipped out before she even realized she was going to say it.
"So you say, but if you care so much for him, then why have you been chasing him? Why did you shoot him?" Kyrian demanded.
Parker frowned, "It's complicated."
"I'm not going anywhere."
She sighed. What did she have to lose? Jarod. That was more than she was willing to give up. Again.
So, she told him. Parker told him everything in the simplest way she could. She explained about her family, the Centre, and her mother. She told him about how they had grown up together, how their friendship had become more than mere friendship. Then she explained how her father had twisted her feelings against Jarod. He had threatened her with Jarod's well-being, told her that if she didn't stop seeing him, he'd allow Raines to become Jarod's handler. After seeing what had happened to Timmy/Angelo, Miss Parker knew she could never allow that to happen. Not to Jarod.
Kyrian listened. He only interrupted her when he needed clarification on something. Then she told him about Jarod's escape in 1996. By then, her transformation from little girl Parker, to the Ice Queen was complete. She was everything her father had wanted her to be, completely capable of asking the man she loved to give up his freedom for hers. She didn't care; at least that was what she told herself at night whenever she looked into the empty bottle of whatever hard liquor she'd ingested enough of to intoxicate ten men.
She ended up at that horrible night two years ago. Walking in and seeing Jarod trying to kill her brother, it had shaken her to the core. She would have never thought Jarod capable of that kind of violence. She had certainly seen his fury, but it had always been carefully controlled. That was part of why she had shot Jarod in the back, because she had thought he was beyond redemption, beyond his tight control.
"I thought he was dead," she whispered, her voice hoarse with raw emotions that she had tried for the whole of her life to hide, but now it was too late. She had opened the gate and those feelings were flooding her, overwhelming her. "And I was devastated."
Kyrian nodded. By now, he'd finished three glasses of orange juice and a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast during the telling of Parker's story.
"Since I found out Jarod was alive, I had to deceive everyone, including myself, that all I wanted was to bring him back to the Centre. I was angry with him for not even letting me know he was alive. Hell, I wasn't angry, I was furious. Not one goddamn word in two years."
"You know he couldn't contact you. To everyone who knew him before he took his Dark-Hunter oaths, he was as good as dead," Kyrian explained.
Parker nodded, "I know that now, but that doesn't relieve the agony I felt before I knew Jarod was alive."
After that, they lapsed into an awkward silence. Parker was exhausted, but she also felt as if she had relieved a huge burden that she hadn't realized she'd been carrying.
Finally, Kyrian nodded, "I can't help you, Miss Parker."
Miss Parker felt as if she'd just been slapped.
"But I can point you in the right direction."
Parker shot Kyrian a glare, but the man just smiled innocently.
"All right, so where do I go from here? Artemis has Jarod's soul, right?" Here she paused, it was so hard to truly believe everything Jarod and Amanda had told her, but she had to believe it. She looked Kyrian straight in the eye, "How would I get in contact with her?"
Kyrian choked, then started laughing; "You don't want to do that, Miss Parker. Artemis would literally scratch your eyes out for even daring to disturb her. Trust me on this. We don't call her the Bitch Goddess for nothing."
The smile that slowly spread itself across Miss Parker's face was well known to those who knew the Ice Queen side of her all too well, or had felt the bite of her caustic tongue once too many times. It was the same smile that had even made Raines back up a pace.
It didn't have quite the same affect on Kyrian, who had stared death straight in the eyes and laughed for the hell of it many a time. He just sat back and crossed his arms over his chest, totally unimpressed. "I hope you're not thinking of confronting Artemis."
Her smile got wider, she leaned forward, her voice low, "I am not about to let some spoiled, little virgin Bitch Goddess intimidate me."
Kyrian's face turned an interesting shade of red as he laughed very loudly over Parker's comment. His earlier statement ringing true in his ears. She did have guts. He wasn't about to allow her to enrage Artemis; even if he did think it would be funny as hell to watch them go at it. Even he wasn't that dumb. Plus he was no longer immortal and he'd already had a god bolt hurled at him by a very pissed off Aphrodite, he didn't think he'd come out so well if he was hit today. Self-preservation sucked, but it was better than being fried and never getting to see his daughter grow up.
He shook his head after calming down. "No, Miss Parker. Trust me. Acheron is the only one who can help you with this. I'll call him and tell him your wishes. He'll make the decision then, whether or not to petition Artemis for Jarod's soul."
Parker raised a single eyebrow. "That's not good enough," she persisted, "I want to know how to contact Artemis."
"No."
"No?" All right, so intimidation wasn't working on Kyrian. She had figured it wouldn't, but old habits seldom die a bloodless death. There was one other tactic at her disposal and she was not above using it.
She brought to mind all her unhappiness, a lifetime of it, and allowed the pain to bring tears to her eyes. She blinked them back and used them to her advantage. She looked down, and when she looked up, her blue eyes looked shiny and her lip quivered just a bit.
"Listen, I know you have no reason to trust me. But, what if Acheron can't get Jarod's soul back? I can't risk losing Jarod again. I've loved him since I was a child. He's mine, damn it, and I am not giving him up without a fight. If I have to face down the wrath of an angry goddess, then so be it. Please, Kyrian," she left the last part of her less than eloquent speech hanging open, her eyes pleading with Kyrian to relent.
"Oh, all right," Kyrian groaned, feeling like an ass for even wanting to believe her when he could plainly see she was putting on an act. The fact was, though his psychic abilities weren't nearly as strong as they used to be when he was still a Dark-Hunter, he could still read some of her thoughts. However, he also sensed that she truly did care about Jarod, though for obvious reasons, it was hard for her to show her true emotions.
Gods, what a tangle.
Parker smiled a triumphant smile.
"I'm a fool for doing this, but to summon any god or goddess, you must merely speak their name and then say I summon you to human form," Kyrian told her.
Miss Parker opened her mouth to repeat the words, but Kyrian shushed her, his eyes wide with panic. "For Zeus' sake, don't say the words now. Do you want her to appear in my kitchen? How would I explain that to Amanda? Oh, by the way dear, I let our guest summon my ex-boss and she got pissed and demolished our kitchen," Kyrian shook his head, "Promise me you'll at least wait until after I talk to Ash."
Parker wanted to make no such promise, but she could see that Kyrian wasn't about to let her out of his sight until she did. She shrugged, "Of course."
Relieved, Kyrian stood with a stretch and a groan, he threw a suspicious look Parker's way before he left the kitchen.
Satisfied, Miss Parker stood. That left her with only one thing to, find someplace where she could not be disturbed in summoning Artemis and negotiating a release for Jarod's soul. She climbed the stairs and entered the guest bedroom she'd slept in the night before and locked the door behind her.
She leaned against the door and opened her mouth, "Artemis, I summon you to human form," she said loudly at the ceiling. She waited.
Nothing happened.
"Damn it," she muttered, ready to go give Kyrian a lashing for lying to her when there was a brilliant flash of white light and a beautiful redhead appeared before her. She was tall and statuesque and so beautiful, Parker knew in that one moment why Kyrian had referred to her as the Bitch Goddess.
In her experience, the more beautiful a woman was, the deadlier, though her mother was the only exception to that rule. With sparkling, unnaturally green, green eyes and beautiful curling red hair, artfully arranged in a Grecian style and a nearly sheer peplos wrapped around her supine form, the goddess was possibly one of the most beautiful women Parker had ever seen. Her skin was olive in tone and her face was classic in its beauty.
A look of pure contempt crossed the redhead's face as she glanced at her surroundings. "Who the hell are you to summon me, mortal?" the goddess demanded petulantly, her accented and cultured voice ill concealed her distaste.
Parker smiled. Looked like Kyrian hadn't lied after all. "So you're Artemis, goddess of the hunt?" Parker stepped forward and regarded the woman before her with her icy composure in place, her blue eyes giving nothing away.
Artemis glared, "I asked you a question, mortal," she demanded.
If only she wasn't dressed in blue jeans and pink sweater. She would have looked much more imposing in her corporate power suit and four-inch high heels. However, she could make do. Parker crossed her arms and smiled coldly, "I'm Miss Parker, and I think you've just met your match, Artemis."
