Darkness Rising
A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie
Disclaimer: I own Jeffrey, Roland, Julian, Susannah, Emily, pretty much every character *but* SJ. Wanna trade?
Cast: Sands/Jeffrey-Johnny Depp Roland Rivers-Julian Sands, freaky coincidental hybrid name! Emily Brisbane-Nicole Kidman Susannah Cartwright-Ashley Judd Julian Manchester-Jude Law
Author's Note: Thank you to my few remaining reviewers. You know who you are, and you guys rock!!!
Rating: R for naughty language, another smut scene ;-) , and violent graphic imagery.
Chapter Twelve: Behind the Masks
"Good riddance," Sands muttered, thinking of bartender he had just killed as he fled the scene. Using a knife probably hadn't been such a good idea however, his suit now had a nice arterial spray of blood across the front, but the man had had to die.
"Why didn't you fucking let me kill Rivers? We had him in our grasp, you fucking moron! Now he's just going to come after us twice as fierce as he was before. You aware of that, right?" Jeffrey asked with a scowl. Sometime between nearly slitting Rivers' throat and going all the way to Broadway with the bartender, he had realized the Jeffrey no longer spoke inside his head. He spoke only out loud now, using Sands' own voice as his own.
"I know he'll come after us. I don't know why I didn't fucking kill him, alright? I choked. Are you happy now, you bastard? When it came down to it, I couldn't kill him. And I don't know why. I had no trouble killing that fucking bartender back there and he was much less of a threat than Rivers and his girls are."
"If you fucking know all of this, why didn't you kill the bastard?!" Jeffrey screamed at him. "You may be fucking blasé about life, but I'm not. I don't plan to let that bastard get near me again unless it's to kill him. Going over to him and chatting him and the other two up like old friends had been a bad idea."
Sands rolled his eyes at that. "Oh I'm so sorry that everything didn't work out the way you wanted it to, but its way too fucking late for regrets now. We went over to them, had a rather interesting conversation, and managed to come away clean. What the fuck are you complaining about you whining bastard?"
"Oh fuck you," Jeffrey said with another scowl. "Now shut up. There's a car coming."
"Why should I shut up? Why don't you shut up? This is my body!" Sands seethed.
"Yeah, and I'm taking it over. Now shut up. I'm going to go over and see if I can get us a ride," Jeffrey said, making his way over to the approaching car. He finally managed to flag down the car about a mile away from the McGovern Estate. It was then Sands realized that he was freezing. He had been forced to leave his warm cape in the coatroom with Sara's body, and now he was paying the price. His teeth began to chatter as Jeffrey moved to talk to the person in the car.
"Uh hello. I take it you're coming from some kind of Halloween party, right? You're not kind of psychotic are you? Because if you are, I'm disinclined to give you a ride. But then again, you look like you're freezing, so I'll take pity on you. Just be warned, I have mace and a knife, and I'm not afraid to use them," the woman in the car assured him with a narrow eyed look.
"Thank you," Sands said through chattering teeth, going around to the passenger's side and getting into the blessedly warm car.
"One thing though, you have to take off the mask. It goes rather nicely with your suit, but I want to be able to see your face," the woman ordered.
Jeffrey smirked at that. 'I bet she likes to be on top,' he thought to himself, but did as she asked. Truth be told, he was fucking glad to be out of the thing himself. "Do I meet your approval..." he trailed off, inviting her to supply her name in the silence.
"Halia," she supplied after giving him a rather thorough look-over that stirred Jeffrey's arousal even though she had not meant for the look to be taken that way. She was simply sizing him up, judging him as safe or not. He put on the most naturally innocent look he could manage, about a few steps above devilish, but he must have seemed honest enough, for she spoke again. "And you are?"
"Jeffrey Sands," he answered with a smile.
"Can you prove that?" she asked warily.
Jeffrey had to catch himself from rolling his eyes at that. "Sure, give me a second, I'll get my wallet." He lifted up off of the seat so he could pull out Sands' wallet, being extremely careful not to flash the knife at her. He most definitely didn't want a faceful of mace. 'I bet she's one of those feminist types,' Jeffrey thought to himself with a smirk that he made sure she couldn't see. 'I enjoy a good challenge.'
She took the driver's license he handed to her and looked over it with a critical eye. "It says here your name is Sheldon J Sands," she said slowly. "Not Jeffrey."
"If you're first name was Sheldon, you wouldn't want to use it either, trust me. My middle name is Jeffrey," Jeffrey said with a small smile, taking in her features. She really was quite pretty, worth the challenge he would have to face if he wanted to fuck her.
She seemed to accept this and handed him back his license. "Where are you coming from, why aren't you wearing a coat, and where are you headed?" she asked in rapid succession.
"I just came from the party at the McGovern Estate, I'm not wearing a coat because I had to get the hell out of there in hurry, and as for where I'm headed; I have absolutely no idea. I just wanted to get out of the cold. Thank you for stopping," Sands said with a smile.
"You're welcome," she said with an absent wave of her hand. "So, you must be some kind of Richie Rich to have attended the McGovern party. Why did you need to get out of there in such a hurry?"
Jeffrey leaned in as if sharing the most secret of confidences. "They found a murdered girl in the coat room."
Halia gasped a bit at first, and then her countenance filled with anger. "Do they know who did it?" she asked at last.
"I have no clue. I admit I high-tailed it out of there at the first scream. Although I assuredly wasn't the only one, I feel like a bit of a coward now as I think back on it," Jeffrey said, managing a bashful smile. He could feel that Sands was at least somewhat impressed with his acting abilities.
Halia gave him a searching look before speaking, "You did the right thing, don't feel guilty about it. There's nothing you could have done. You're certainly not in law enforcement, so you couldn't have helped anyone by getting in the way. You did the right thing by leaving," she assured him. "Now, where can I take you?"
Jeffrey tried to put on a distressed look. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. I just came here from DC for the party, and I had planned to stay with a friend of mine. I'm afraid we got separated in the confusion."
"What is your friend's name?" she asked, and Jeffrey could tell by the tone of her voice that his acting job was working. She no longer seemed suspicious, she now only seemed curious. And he could use curiosity to his advantage.
"Julian Bateman," he purposely didn't give Julian's last name because he knew that she would recognize it. "I admit that I don't even know where he lives here in town. He and I went to school together and I haven't seen him in a few years. It's only when he found out that I was attending the party yesterday, I'm not even sure how he did, that he called me up and offered to let me stay with him. I guess you think I'm pretty stupid for making plans to stay with someone I haven't seen in years, right?"
"No, I don't think you're stupid," she hesitated for a moment and then looked him over closely once more before speaking. "I have a guestroom in my house. I could let you stay there for the night, or at least until you contact your friend. It's not far from here. But if you try anything, I will call the police and have you arrested before you can blink. Do you understand?"
"Savvy," Jeffrey said with a smile.
"What did you say?" Halia asked with a frown.
"I mean, I understand," Jeffrey explained.
Halia just nodded and turned to look at the road again, before putting the car into gear and heading to her home.
***
"Well, this is it," Halia said with a wave of her hand as they entered her two-story, 3-bedroom, middle-income class home. "Not what you're use to if you were invited to the McGovern party, I'm sure, but if you'd rather stay in a hotel I can direct you to the phone so you can call yourself a cab."
"No," Jeffrey said quickly. "Your home is lovely. Thank you for giving me a place to stay. A lot of people wouldn't have done so much for a total stranger."
"Oh, you're not a total stranger. I saw your driver's license remember? Sheldon?" she said with a smile to let him know that she was joking.
Jeffrey forced an amused laugh while inside he was seething. He did not like being made fun of any more than Sands did. "Yeah, what a name, huh?" he said with a small smile.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't make fun of you. That was rude. We don't choose our names."
For a moment, all Jeffrey could do was stand there and blink. Had she actually apologized? "Uh, thank you," Jeffrey managed to mumble.
"You're welcome," she said with a smile, walking into the main area of the house. "Would you like a drink? I haven't got much, but I could make you a cup of coffee if you're still cold."
"Thank you, coffee would be fine," Jeffrey muttered, still feeling a little unbalanced.
"Let me guess, you like it black right? A tough guy," Halia called from the kitchen as Jeffrey took a seat on an ivory colored leather couch in her living room.
Jeffrey smirked at that, his balance regained. "Black's fine. Mr. Tough Guy. That's me," he joked. He the reached up and fumbled at the noose at his neck, trying to get the blasted thing untied.
Halia returned a few minutes later, a cup of steaming coffee in each hand and laughed softly to see him struggling. She set the cups down on the coffee table; a coaster under each, and turned to him. "Would you like some help with that?"
"Fuck yes," Jeffrey muttered, looking up to as if she were her last lifeline in a raging storm. "Sorry for the curse, but I've been wearing this stupid thing all night and now I just want it off," he said, gesturing to the now mangled bow tie at his throat.
She laughed then, and Jeffrey was fascinated by the sound. He tried not to gasp as her gentle hands found the injured sides of his neck from his and Sands' little...argument, but it was difficult. She jerked her hands back, her brown eyes wide. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I hurt myself. You just found where I did it with your hands, that's all. But please, don't stop. This thing's driving me insane."
Halia laughed again and untied the bowtie at his throat in a matter of seconds. "There, all better," she said, her hands not moving from the now dangling ends of his tie. He looked down at them with a smile, and she drew her hands back quickly with a bit of a startled squeak. "I'm sorry," she said, her face going red, quickly taking a sip to occupy her slightly trembling fingers.
"Why should you be sorry? I'm not. When a beautiful woman places her hands on my chest, I consider myself lucky," he said with a charming smile that only served to deepen Halia's blush. "You're beautiful when you blush," he said before looking as if he had just realized something. "It's my turn to be sorry. I had no right to say that. I don't even know if you're seeing anyone or not. You're not, are you?" Jeffrey asked, looking hopeful, taking a sip of his own coffee, his eyes locked with hers over the rim of the mug before setting it down on the coffee table.
"No, I'm not. But I don't even know you," Halia said, but Jeffrey could tell that she was close to being his.
"Well then. What would you like to know?" he asked with a smile, knowing he had to play this just right. She was jumpy, but he had seen her desire, while still muted, flash in her eyes when she had untied that damn tie. "I'm not seeing anyone either, by the way."
For a minute, Halia just sat there, not knowing what to say. "What are you supposed to be? Your costume I mean? Some kind of representation of the duality of man or something like that?"
"Yeah, something like that," Jeffrey said with a smirk. "I'm a schizophrenic actually," he said with a smile that implied he was joking even though he was being dead serious.
"I like it. Very clever," Halia said with a smile.
"Yeah Julian certainly seemed to think so, that bastard," Jeffrey muttered under his breath, too low for Halia to hear. "Thank you," he said out loud, moving closer to her on the couch. "Tell me something, Halia. Would I still get a faceful of mace if I said I wanted to kiss you?"
"That depends," Halia said a bit breathlessly.
"On?" Jeffrey asked, leaning even closer to her, close enough to feel her warm breath on his face.
"On how good of a kisser you are," she whispered, her tongue darting to wet her dry lips.
That was all the invitation Jeffrey needed, and he closed the gap between them, locking his mouth to hers, putting every ounce of passion he had in the kiss. If he was going to get in her bed, he'd have to make the kiss memorable. His mind, or maybe it had been Sands, cheered in victory as Halia moaned, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, deepening the passion of the kiss even further. Their tongues did battle for a few long minutes, before he pulled back, slightly breathless. "Did that live up to your standards?"
"I'm not entirely sure. I think I might have to try again." It was Halia who took the incentive this time, pressing him against the back of the couch with the force of her kiss. It was also Jeffrey's turn to moan in a mixture of shock and arousal that she was so forward. He raised a hand a cupped one of her breasts through her shirt before he could stop himself. She gasped and pulled away from him to look him dead in the eye.
"I'm not going to get maced, am I?" he asked with a small frown, not bothering to remove his hand from her chest. If he was going to get a faceful of mace, he was going to make sure it had been worth it.
For a long moment Halia didn't answer him, only looked at him as if seeing into his soul, her brown eyes filled with an interesting mixture of surprise, curiosity, and strong heated desire. "No," she said at last, gently placing a hand over his on her chest. "I'm not going to mace you. I just have one question."
"What's that?" Jeffrey asked, unbelievably curious to know what was going though her head.
"I want you to be honest with me. If I sleep with you tonight, will you still be here in the morning?" she asked, looking at him even more intensely than before.
Jeffrey balked at the question and Sands took over in his confusion. "You have my word. I will still be here tomorrow morning," he assured her with a calm smile.
"And will I wake up next to you?" she pressed.
That one was a bit trickier. "Yes, you will wake up next to me," he said. 'That is, if Jeffrey doesn't kill you first,' he though to himself.
"Then come with me," she said, rising to her feet and holding out a hand.
Neither Jeffrey nor Sands had to be told twice when presented with an invitation like that, so they grasped Halia's hand gently and together they made their way to her bedroom.
***
The room was done up in a variety of scarlet and pale yellow shades, and it appealed to Jeffrey. Well, the scarlet certainly did anyway. "I like the room," he murmured, taking in the little knick-knacks that made the room hers. He stopped to smell the white roses, literally, that were in a vase on a small table against a wall, cursing himself for being a romantic idiot. He then laughed quietly to see an old record player on the same table, with what looked like an Elvis album cued up.
"Don't make fun or I'll kick you out. I mean it," Halia warned, her voice half joking, half serious.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jeffrey assured her, but smirked. She laughed at that, completely unoffended. "You have a beautiful laugh. And God, could I be any more pathetic right now? I sound like a sap."
"I think it's kind of cute," Halia said, moving over lean against him, her face turned upwards to his, her hands on his chest.
"You're not helping," Jeffrey said, leaning down to capture her mouth in another searing kiss, possibly even more passionate than the last. Their tongues warred as they walked over to the bed, the back of Jeffrey's legs hitting the edge and causing him to fall on top of it with Halia on top of him. They both dissolved into laughter at that, around their still- connected lips. When they finally broke apart, Jeffrey looked up at her with a curious expression on his face.
"What?" Halia asked with a frown. "What's wrong?"
"You drugged my coffee, didn't you? I haven't laughed like that in...well, ever. So that seems to be the only explanation. Come on, tell me. What did you slip me? A little Mickey Cohen in my drink? You can tell me, I won't turn you into the authorities, I promise," Jeffrey said with a smile to show that he was joking, but in the truth he was actually beginning to consider it 'What the fuck's wrong with me?' he thought to himself.
Halia laughed and blushed prettily and Jeffrey had to refrain from once more commenting on how beautiful she looked. He would have to do something about this soon or get the fuck out of here. His moods were seriously unbalanced lately, and he didn't fucking like it. He was saved from having to make a decision as Halia once more captured his lips in a passionate kiss, her body a pleasant weight on his chest. 'For being so seemingly wary of men she certainly is a brazen little minx,' he thought to himself, giving his senses fully to the kiss. He deepened their intimacy even more by reaching up his hands to push her up off of him enough so that he could unbutton her shirt and unhook her bra without breaking the kiss. She returned the favor by unbuttoning his own shirt and untucking it from cummerbund and pants. Her hands paused as she encountered the knife and he cursed himself silently for having forgotten about it. That a fucking sloppy move on his part.
"What's this?" she asked, pulling the knife sheath from his waist before he could stop her. She gasped at the size of it.
"It's just a bit of protection, sugarbutt. You can hold on to it if it'll make you feel better." She seemed to consider this before leaning over to put the knife under the bed and straddling him, pulling him into a sitting position on the bed. "Although, I'm beginning to think that I may be the one in need of protection here, you little minx," Jeffrey said with a wink, allowing her to divest him of his tux jacket, cummerbund, and shirt. She then pushed him back on the bed and Jeffrey took a moment to marvel at how quickly she had leveled the playing field between the two of them. She removed her own shirt and bra, and they were on even ground, both wearing nothing but pants, socks, shoes, and matching looks of heated desire.
Jeffrey gasped as he crawled over to him like a hungry lioness and moved her hands over his bare chest, moving slowly and with teasing movements down to his waist where her hands hovered over his pants buttons and the very seat of his arousal. Before he could look to see if she was going to go through with undressing him completely, she moved down to his feet to untie Sands' highly polished black shoes, something he had forgotten about. Once when they were both on the floor, his socks with them, did she move back to his waist where she deftly undid the buttons and slid the zipper down. Before he could go any further he had rolled her over on her back and was taking off her own shoes and socks and undoing the buttons to his jeans. He had been pretty submissive so far, but it just wasn't in his nature to do so. Sands' either for that matter.
With a growl he rolled Halia over so that he was on top of her. Once he had managed this, he attacked her mouth thoroughly, kissing her as if there were no tomorrow; which was true. For her, at least. "I wasn't done," she pouted when he finally let her up for air.
"Neither was I," she said with a smirk before rolling him back over. She then reached down once more to unbutton and remove his pants, and this time he didn't stop her. He instead aided her movements with a gentle rising of his hips so she could pull his pants out from underneath him. He could remain still; be a good boy, for a little while. If she was so intent on taking the lead he wasn't going to stop her. For now.
"Having fun?" he asked, noticing she was staring at his now only silk boxer- clad form.
"I'll be having more fun once I get you out of those—" her voice cut off as he grabbed her roaming hands hard enough to hurt.
"Not so fast, my little minx. I do not like being told what to do. Keep that in mind and the evening will go a hell of a lot more smoothly," Jeffrey warned, his eyes going slightly cold.
"You're hurting me," Halia said softly, trying to pull her wrists away.
"I promise to let you go if you do what I tell you," Jeffrey said slowly, not exactly letting up in his fierce grip of her wrists, but not holding quite as firmly as before.
Halia narrowed her eyes at him, but had the courage to ask, "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to finish undressing yourself for me. Basically, I want you naked, and soon. And then I'll allow you to finish what you started, savvy?" Jeffrey asked, his tone brooking no argument.
Halia nodded and Jeffrey released her wrists. She rubbed at them for a moment before standing up off the bed and unbuttoning her blue jeans, letting them sink to the floor. "There, are you happy? We're on even ground now," she pointed out, gesturing to his silk black boxers and her own satin and lace panties.
Jeffrey barely had the time to grudgingly nod before Halia leapt on top of him again, her mouth locked with his, her entire body rubbing at his furiously, creating a delicious friction between the two of them that almost made him gasp. "I never thought I'd find a woman with such a...voracious sexual appetite as my own," he said when she had finally released him. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes glazed with need. Jeffrey didn't have to be told twice. He quickly pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, and hooked a finger around the edge of her panties and did the same, thrusting into her with a grunt. He then rolled her over again on to her back and his thrusts became more forceful, with her moaning and writhing beneath him, her eyes fluttering. He noticed that their legs were tangled together in a mixture of limbs and underwear, but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about now was the activity he was currently engaged in, and what the fuck he was going to do with her in the morning.
*** Halia lay in Jeffrey's arms, the both of them completely sated and almost utterly exhausted from their play. Halia rolled her head over in a slow movement on Jeffrey's chest to look at the clock on her bedside table. It read 1:52 AM. "Well, time sure does fly when you're having fun," she commented, not moving her head to look at him. Jeffrey glanced over at the clock as well and she could feel him nod. "Do you intend on keeping your promise?" Halia asked quietly.
For a second, Jeffrey found he didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about. 'What promise?' he asked himself, and Sands, for that matter. "Yes, I'll keep it," Sands answered before Jeffrey had the chance. "Now go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." Halia only nodded slowly, and Sands waited until he was completely sure she was asleep before speaking out loud, "This is nice, and I know you fucking enjoyed yourself, but you're going to kill her in the morning anyway, aren't you?" he asked Jeffrey quietly.
"Why? Do you really care whether or not I do? Tell me the truth. Do you really care whether or not I, or you for that matter, kill her tomorrow morning?" Jeffrey asked.
Sands thought about it for a long moment, and found that he didn't. "No, I don't. She was fun in bed, but that's all. She's served a purpose, and now I have no other use for her."
"And there's the sociopath I know and hate," Jeffrey said with an almost fond tone to his voice. "Now get some fucking sleep. I'll wake you up tomorrow before she does."
"Fine, goodnight you irritating psychotic bastard," Sands muttered, closing his eyes.
"Goodnight you annoying sociopathic asshole," Jeffrey responded, and they both fell into a deep, even sleep.
***
Jeffrey opened his eyes some 7 hours later, taking a moment to remember where he was. He felt a curious weight on his chest and looked down to see a brunette head lying there, and the entire night came back in a flash; beautiful, willing Sara, who had died at his hands, seeing Rivers fall to the ground with a slit throat even though he didn't die, killing that fucking nosy bartender, and now Halia. Seemingly innocent naïve and yet voracious Halia, who would also die at his hands this morning.
He took care not to wake her as he gently lifted her head off of his chest and laid it in the place he had recently vacated as he slipped out of bed with a long stretch. He squinted in the sunlight that passed through the blinds into the room before walking around the bed, attempting to locate his underwear. They had been discarded sometime in the middle of the night in a haze of passion, and he had no idea where they had gotten to. He bent over and began looking under the bed. He did find his pants, shirt, jacket, and most importantly, his knife, but not his underwear. Or his cummerbund and tie either, for that matter. "Fuck, where could they have fucking gotten to. He cast his eyes around the room, trying to think outside the box. His eyes trailed upwards and noticed a black scrap of silk hanging from one of the blades of the ceiling fan and smirked, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He reached up and pulled them off of it, shaking them out slightly in case they were a bit dusty before pulling them on. He then pulled on his pants before looking at his shit in distaste. He didn't want to wear it fucking again, and he certainly wasn't going to wear the fucking noose, but he'd wear the jacket at least. Now, if only he could find a decent shirt. He smirked and wandered over to Halia's dresser decided 'what the hell. I'm going to kill her anyway,' and began searching the drawers for a suitable shirt.
He hit gold in the first drawer he tried, and in more ways than one. After pulling out a large plain black cotton shirt, he had found something rather...interesting for a woman to be hiding in her underwear and t-shirt drawer. He pulled out a heavy .45 handgun and looked at it as if it was about to turn and shoot him. "Holy fuck, can she even fire this thing? It's a fucking hand cannon!" he exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down to a loud whisper, not wanting her to wake up. He cocked it open and saw that it was fully loaded too, with a bullet in the chamber. He was about to put it back where he had found it and continue getting dressed when Halia's still sleepy voice assaulted his ears.
"Jeffrey? What are you doing?" Before he even thought to answer her question, he had already turned and fired a bullet into her chest, her blood spilling out onto the sheets, vibrant and red. "Why?" she whispered, her face screwed up in pain, a trickle of blood running out the edge of her mouth.
"Because it's the way I am," Jeffrey said without feeling, pulling the trigger until the gun was empty, and Halia's body was now a bloodied ruin beneath him. Jeffrey dropped the spent gun to the bed in distaste and started to hear someone clapping. He frowned when he saw that it was him, or rather Sands.
"Nice work. Very cold-hearted. Now finished getting dressed so we can see if there's anything in the kitchen to have for breakfast," Sands muttered absently.
Jeffrey just stood there staring, Halia's now glassy eyes staring back up at him, the "Why?" she had asked him still echoing through his ears. After a moment he shrugged and continued getting dressed, putting the dead woman on the bed out of his mind and going about his morning as usual.
***
Julian nearly cheered when his butler announced that the CIA had come to visit his home. He hadn't bothered hiding like Sands apparently had after the party, he had seen neither hide nor hair of his unwanted houseguest since last night when they had become separated, and he wasn't the least bit sorrowful. "Send them in," he called out, taking a seat behind the desk in his study. The butler nodded and left, two women and a man entering a moment later. He looked at the man in shock, "Agent Rivers I must say I'm-" he was cut off abruptly by Roland.
"Surprised to see me still alive, Mr. Manchester? Well, you're not the only one," Roland said, putting a hand gently to the while shallow, nasty looking cut across his throat. "I don't know why Sands didn't kill me, but it will be the biggest mistake he's made so far. Because I don't intend to give up. And I will find him. That's why I came here, as it were," he said, taking a seat at one of the chairs in the room, leaving Susannah to take the other, and Emily left to drag another chair over from the back wall. Julian rose to help her, but she just waved a hand as to say, 'I'm used to this. Roland's a bastard, can't you tell?'
Once Emily was finally seated, Julian reclaimed his own chair and spoke gently, "I think I understand why you came here, Agents. You want some insight into that bloody psychotic bastard, Sands, am I correct?"
"You're damn right I do. Starting with why you didn't turn him into the local police at least when he showed up at your doorstep. You must have known he's wanted in connection with at least 3 murders in DC."
"He confessed to four," Julian said slowly.
"He told you about them? What did he say?" Emily asked.
"Did he say where he put Yvette's body?" Roland asked, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his knuckles turning white.
"He said he woke up in bed next to her, and that she was dead. He didn't give many more details than that. As for where he put her?" Julian paused to remember Sands' exact words. "He said, and I quote, "It's dissolved into nothingness along with a transvestite I killed in a bathtub in a particularly seedy motel room in the middle of downtown DC." He didn't say which motel, and I didn't ask. He then admitted to killing someone named Sprout and a guy he didn't know on the street. Wait, I think he said he was some kind of bartender."
"What the fuck's he got against bartenders?" Emily mused aloud to herself.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," Julian said with a frown.
"We found the body of the bartender from the party last night in front of the McGovern estate. His throat had been cut," Susannah said with a solemn look. "We also found the body of one Sara Jenkins in the coat room, also murdered last night."
"Oh God, he told me about her too. At the party. He said that he had "fucked her and then killed her." Pardon the language," he said with a nod toward the two female agents. Susannah nodded back demurely while Emily just waved a hand absently. "He truly is insane, Agent Rivers. What he told you all last night wasn't a lie. He's bloody schizophrenic. I've seen him argue with 'himself,' I even saw him draw a knife on his own neck for God's sake when he got in an argument with Jeffrey. That's what his other personality is called. Bloody psychotic Jeffrey."
"So what, I'm supposed to let this bastard spend the rest of his fucking life in a cozy little institution somewhere because he's a little fucking nutty? There is no way in hell that I'm going to see that happen. He's going to burn for the people he killed, and I don't mean that theologically."
"Listen, I haven't seen him since the party last night and I can honestly say that I don't miss him in the least. He threatened my life more than once while he was here, and hearing him go on about killing people and argue with...Jeffrey was a tad...unsettling."
"What did he and...Jeffrey fight about?" Emily asked, leaning forward a bit to hear Julian's answer.
"I'm not entirely sure, to tell you the truth. But they did fight a lot. In fact, Sands seemed to fight with Jeffrey over killing people. He claimed that it was Jeffrey's fault; that Jeffrey did it, not him."
"What else did he say?" Emily pressed.
"Oh who cares? So he's a fucking whackjob. We knew that already. None of that matters. What matters is finding him before he kills someone else," Roland said with a glare in Emily and Julian's direction.
"He probably already has. If he's as psychotic as we all seem to believe he is, save Agent Rivers, then he won't ever stop. I think it would be a good idea if we got some protective custody placed on you, Mr. Manchester. There's a good chance that Sands will be coming for you next," Susannah warned with a direct look in his direction.
"I'll take my chances, thank you. I won't run and hide, especially not from the likes of him," Julian asserted with a glower.
"You will call us if the bastard shows up again, won't you Mr. Manchester?" Roland asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh yes, of course. I'm not as foolish as you might believe, Agent Rivers. If I see Sands again, which I most sincerely doubt, I shall inform you immediately," he assured them with a nod. "Now, if there's nothing else," he said, rising from his seat, "I have a bit of work to do. My man will show you out." Roland, Susannah and Emily all got up from their seats and began walking through the door, each one of them recognizing a dismissal when they heard one. They wouldn't be getting anything more out of him. "If there's any further way I can assist you or your investigation, do give me a call." He handed Roland one of his business cards. "I bid you the best of luck in catching him. And do be careful."
"Oh you can count on that. We'll catch him, there's no doubt about that," Roland said with finality, before the group of them turned on their heels and left Julian to his thoughts.
TBC
A/N: Sorry that this took so long to post!! I wrote a new story with the OUATIM author Neon Dasies (Psnoo17) called More Than Darkness. You can find it on www. adultfanfiction.net under the name of S_and_M. Enjoy!!
A Once Upon a Time in Mexico story by Merrie
Disclaimer: I own Jeffrey, Roland, Julian, Susannah, Emily, pretty much every character *but* SJ. Wanna trade?
Cast: Sands/Jeffrey-Johnny Depp Roland Rivers-Julian Sands, freaky coincidental hybrid name! Emily Brisbane-Nicole Kidman Susannah Cartwright-Ashley Judd Julian Manchester-Jude Law
Author's Note: Thank you to my few remaining reviewers. You know who you are, and you guys rock!!!
Rating: R for naughty language, another smut scene ;-) , and violent graphic imagery.
Chapter Twelve: Behind the Masks
"Good riddance," Sands muttered, thinking of bartender he had just killed as he fled the scene. Using a knife probably hadn't been such a good idea however, his suit now had a nice arterial spray of blood across the front, but the man had had to die.
"Why didn't you fucking let me kill Rivers? We had him in our grasp, you fucking moron! Now he's just going to come after us twice as fierce as he was before. You aware of that, right?" Jeffrey asked with a scowl. Sometime between nearly slitting Rivers' throat and going all the way to Broadway with the bartender, he had realized the Jeffrey no longer spoke inside his head. He spoke only out loud now, using Sands' own voice as his own.
"I know he'll come after us. I don't know why I didn't fucking kill him, alright? I choked. Are you happy now, you bastard? When it came down to it, I couldn't kill him. And I don't know why. I had no trouble killing that fucking bartender back there and he was much less of a threat than Rivers and his girls are."
"If you fucking know all of this, why didn't you kill the bastard?!" Jeffrey screamed at him. "You may be fucking blasé about life, but I'm not. I don't plan to let that bastard get near me again unless it's to kill him. Going over to him and chatting him and the other two up like old friends had been a bad idea."
Sands rolled his eyes at that. "Oh I'm so sorry that everything didn't work out the way you wanted it to, but its way too fucking late for regrets now. We went over to them, had a rather interesting conversation, and managed to come away clean. What the fuck are you complaining about you whining bastard?"
"Oh fuck you," Jeffrey said with another scowl. "Now shut up. There's a car coming."
"Why should I shut up? Why don't you shut up? This is my body!" Sands seethed.
"Yeah, and I'm taking it over. Now shut up. I'm going to go over and see if I can get us a ride," Jeffrey said, making his way over to the approaching car. He finally managed to flag down the car about a mile away from the McGovern Estate. It was then Sands realized that he was freezing. He had been forced to leave his warm cape in the coatroom with Sara's body, and now he was paying the price. His teeth began to chatter as Jeffrey moved to talk to the person in the car.
"Uh hello. I take it you're coming from some kind of Halloween party, right? You're not kind of psychotic are you? Because if you are, I'm disinclined to give you a ride. But then again, you look like you're freezing, so I'll take pity on you. Just be warned, I have mace and a knife, and I'm not afraid to use them," the woman in the car assured him with a narrow eyed look.
"Thank you," Sands said through chattering teeth, going around to the passenger's side and getting into the blessedly warm car.
"One thing though, you have to take off the mask. It goes rather nicely with your suit, but I want to be able to see your face," the woman ordered.
Jeffrey smirked at that. 'I bet she likes to be on top,' he thought to himself, but did as she asked. Truth be told, he was fucking glad to be out of the thing himself. "Do I meet your approval..." he trailed off, inviting her to supply her name in the silence.
"Halia," she supplied after giving him a rather thorough look-over that stirred Jeffrey's arousal even though she had not meant for the look to be taken that way. She was simply sizing him up, judging him as safe or not. He put on the most naturally innocent look he could manage, about a few steps above devilish, but he must have seemed honest enough, for she spoke again. "And you are?"
"Jeffrey Sands," he answered with a smile.
"Can you prove that?" she asked warily.
Jeffrey had to catch himself from rolling his eyes at that. "Sure, give me a second, I'll get my wallet." He lifted up off of the seat so he could pull out Sands' wallet, being extremely careful not to flash the knife at her. He most definitely didn't want a faceful of mace. 'I bet she's one of those feminist types,' Jeffrey thought to himself with a smirk that he made sure she couldn't see. 'I enjoy a good challenge.'
She took the driver's license he handed to her and looked over it with a critical eye. "It says here your name is Sheldon J Sands," she said slowly. "Not Jeffrey."
"If you're first name was Sheldon, you wouldn't want to use it either, trust me. My middle name is Jeffrey," Jeffrey said with a small smile, taking in her features. She really was quite pretty, worth the challenge he would have to face if he wanted to fuck her.
She seemed to accept this and handed him back his license. "Where are you coming from, why aren't you wearing a coat, and where are you headed?" she asked in rapid succession.
"I just came from the party at the McGovern Estate, I'm not wearing a coat because I had to get the hell out of there in hurry, and as for where I'm headed; I have absolutely no idea. I just wanted to get out of the cold. Thank you for stopping," Sands said with a smile.
"You're welcome," she said with an absent wave of her hand. "So, you must be some kind of Richie Rich to have attended the McGovern party. Why did you need to get out of there in such a hurry?"
Jeffrey leaned in as if sharing the most secret of confidences. "They found a murdered girl in the coat room."
Halia gasped a bit at first, and then her countenance filled with anger. "Do they know who did it?" she asked at last.
"I have no clue. I admit I high-tailed it out of there at the first scream. Although I assuredly wasn't the only one, I feel like a bit of a coward now as I think back on it," Jeffrey said, managing a bashful smile. He could feel that Sands was at least somewhat impressed with his acting abilities.
Halia gave him a searching look before speaking, "You did the right thing, don't feel guilty about it. There's nothing you could have done. You're certainly not in law enforcement, so you couldn't have helped anyone by getting in the way. You did the right thing by leaving," she assured him. "Now, where can I take you?"
Jeffrey tried to put on a distressed look. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. I just came here from DC for the party, and I had planned to stay with a friend of mine. I'm afraid we got separated in the confusion."
"What is your friend's name?" she asked, and Jeffrey could tell by the tone of her voice that his acting job was working. She no longer seemed suspicious, she now only seemed curious. And he could use curiosity to his advantage.
"Julian Bateman," he purposely didn't give Julian's last name because he knew that she would recognize it. "I admit that I don't even know where he lives here in town. He and I went to school together and I haven't seen him in a few years. It's only when he found out that I was attending the party yesterday, I'm not even sure how he did, that he called me up and offered to let me stay with him. I guess you think I'm pretty stupid for making plans to stay with someone I haven't seen in years, right?"
"No, I don't think you're stupid," she hesitated for a moment and then looked him over closely once more before speaking. "I have a guestroom in my house. I could let you stay there for the night, or at least until you contact your friend. It's not far from here. But if you try anything, I will call the police and have you arrested before you can blink. Do you understand?"
"Savvy," Jeffrey said with a smile.
"What did you say?" Halia asked with a frown.
"I mean, I understand," Jeffrey explained.
Halia just nodded and turned to look at the road again, before putting the car into gear and heading to her home.
***
"Well, this is it," Halia said with a wave of her hand as they entered her two-story, 3-bedroom, middle-income class home. "Not what you're use to if you were invited to the McGovern party, I'm sure, but if you'd rather stay in a hotel I can direct you to the phone so you can call yourself a cab."
"No," Jeffrey said quickly. "Your home is lovely. Thank you for giving me a place to stay. A lot of people wouldn't have done so much for a total stranger."
"Oh, you're not a total stranger. I saw your driver's license remember? Sheldon?" she said with a smile to let him know that she was joking.
Jeffrey forced an amused laugh while inside he was seething. He did not like being made fun of any more than Sands did. "Yeah, what a name, huh?" he said with a small smile.
"I'm sorry; I shouldn't make fun of you. That was rude. We don't choose our names."
For a moment, all Jeffrey could do was stand there and blink. Had she actually apologized? "Uh, thank you," Jeffrey managed to mumble.
"You're welcome," she said with a smile, walking into the main area of the house. "Would you like a drink? I haven't got much, but I could make you a cup of coffee if you're still cold."
"Thank you, coffee would be fine," Jeffrey muttered, still feeling a little unbalanced.
"Let me guess, you like it black right? A tough guy," Halia called from the kitchen as Jeffrey took a seat on an ivory colored leather couch in her living room.
Jeffrey smirked at that, his balance regained. "Black's fine. Mr. Tough Guy. That's me," he joked. He the reached up and fumbled at the noose at his neck, trying to get the blasted thing untied.
Halia returned a few minutes later, a cup of steaming coffee in each hand and laughed softly to see him struggling. She set the cups down on the coffee table; a coaster under each, and turned to him. "Would you like some help with that?"
"Fuck yes," Jeffrey muttered, looking up to as if she were her last lifeline in a raging storm. "Sorry for the curse, but I've been wearing this stupid thing all night and now I just want it off," he said, gesturing to the now mangled bow tie at his throat.
She laughed then, and Jeffrey was fascinated by the sound. He tried not to gasp as her gentle hands found the injured sides of his neck from his and Sands' little...argument, but it was difficult. She jerked her hands back, her brown eyes wide. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I hurt myself. You just found where I did it with your hands, that's all. But please, don't stop. This thing's driving me insane."
Halia laughed again and untied the bowtie at his throat in a matter of seconds. "There, all better," she said, her hands not moving from the now dangling ends of his tie. He looked down at them with a smile, and she drew her hands back quickly with a bit of a startled squeak. "I'm sorry," she said, her face going red, quickly taking a sip to occupy her slightly trembling fingers.
"Why should you be sorry? I'm not. When a beautiful woman places her hands on my chest, I consider myself lucky," he said with a charming smile that only served to deepen Halia's blush. "You're beautiful when you blush," he said before looking as if he had just realized something. "It's my turn to be sorry. I had no right to say that. I don't even know if you're seeing anyone or not. You're not, are you?" Jeffrey asked, looking hopeful, taking a sip of his own coffee, his eyes locked with hers over the rim of the mug before setting it down on the coffee table.
"No, I'm not. But I don't even know you," Halia said, but Jeffrey could tell that she was close to being his.
"Well then. What would you like to know?" he asked with a smile, knowing he had to play this just right. She was jumpy, but he had seen her desire, while still muted, flash in her eyes when she had untied that damn tie. "I'm not seeing anyone either, by the way."
For a minute, Halia just sat there, not knowing what to say. "What are you supposed to be? Your costume I mean? Some kind of representation of the duality of man or something like that?"
"Yeah, something like that," Jeffrey said with a smirk. "I'm a schizophrenic actually," he said with a smile that implied he was joking even though he was being dead serious.
"I like it. Very clever," Halia said with a smile.
"Yeah Julian certainly seemed to think so, that bastard," Jeffrey muttered under his breath, too low for Halia to hear. "Thank you," he said out loud, moving closer to her on the couch. "Tell me something, Halia. Would I still get a faceful of mace if I said I wanted to kiss you?"
"That depends," Halia said a bit breathlessly.
"On?" Jeffrey asked, leaning even closer to her, close enough to feel her warm breath on his face.
"On how good of a kisser you are," she whispered, her tongue darting to wet her dry lips.
That was all the invitation Jeffrey needed, and he closed the gap between them, locking his mouth to hers, putting every ounce of passion he had in the kiss. If he was going to get in her bed, he'd have to make the kiss memorable. His mind, or maybe it had been Sands, cheered in victory as Halia moaned, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, deepening the passion of the kiss even further. Their tongues did battle for a few long minutes, before he pulled back, slightly breathless. "Did that live up to your standards?"
"I'm not entirely sure. I think I might have to try again." It was Halia who took the incentive this time, pressing him against the back of the couch with the force of her kiss. It was also Jeffrey's turn to moan in a mixture of shock and arousal that she was so forward. He raised a hand a cupped one of her breasts through her shirt before he could stop himself. She gasped and pulled away from him to look him dead in the eye.
"I'm not going to get maced, am I?" he asked with a small frown, not bothering to remove his hand from her chest. If he was going to get a faceful of mace, he was going to make sure it had been worth it.
For a long moment Halia didn't answer him, only looked at him as if seeing into his soul, her brown eyes filled with an interesting mixture of surprise, curiosity, and strong heated desire. "No," she said at last, gently placing a hand over his on her chest. "I'm not going to mace you. I just have one question."
"What's that?" Jeffrey asked, unbelievably curious to know what was going though her head.
"I want you to be honest with me. If I sleep with you tonight, will you still be here in the morning?" she asked, looking at him even more intensely than before.
Jeffrey balked at the question and Sands took over in his confusion. "You have my word. I will still be here tomorrow morning," he assured her with a calm smile.
"And will I wake up next to you?" she pressed.
That one was a bit trickier. "Yes, you will wake up next to me," he said. 'That is, if Jeffrey doesn't kill you first,' he though to himself.
"Then come with me," she said, rising to her feet and holding out a hand.
Neither Jeffrey nor Sands had to be told twice when presented with an invitation like that, so they grasped Halia's hand gently and together they made their way to her bedroom.
***
The room was done up in a variety of scarlet and pale yellow shades, and it appealed to Jeffrey. Well, the scarlet certainly did anyway. "I like the room," he murmured, taking in the little knick-knacks that made the room hers. He stopped to smell the white roses, literally, that were in a vase on a small table against a wall, cursing himself for being a romantic idiot. He then laughed quietly to see an old record player on the same table, with what looked like an Elvis album cued up.
"Don't make fun or I'll kick you out. I mean it," Halia warned, her voice half joking, half serious.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Jeffrey assured her, but smirked. She laughed at that, completely unoffended. "You have a beautiful laugh. And God, could I be any more pathetic right now? I sound like a sap."
"I think it's kind of cute," Halia said, moving over lean against him, her face turned upwards to his, her hands on his chest.
"You're not helping," Jeffrey said, leaning down to capture her mouth in another searing kiss, possibly even more passionate than the last. Their tongues warred as they walked over to the bed, the back of Jeffrey's legs hitting the edge and causing him to fall on top of it with Halia on top of him. They both dissolved into laughter at that, around their still- connected lips. When they finally broke apart, Jeffrey looked up at her with a curious expression on his face.
"What?" Halia asked with a frown. "What's wrong?"
"You drugged my coffee, didn't you? I haven't laughed like that in...well, ever. So that seems to be the only explanation. Come on, tell me. What did you slip me? A little Mickey Cohen in my drink? You can tell me, I won't turn you into the authorities, I promise," Jeffrey said with a smile to show that he was joking, but in the truth he was actually beginning to consider it 'What the fuck's wrong with me?' he thought to himself.
Halia laughed and blushed prettily and Jeffrey had to refrain from once more commenting on how beautiful she looked. He would have to do something about this soon or get the fuck out of here. His moods were seriously unbalanced lately, and he didn't fucking like it. He was saved from having to make a decision as Halia once more captured his lips in a passionate kiss, her body a pleasant weight on his chest. 'For being so seemingly wary of men she certainly is a brazen little minx,' he thought to himself, giving his senses fully to the kiss. He deepened their intimacy even more by reaching up his hands to push her up off of him enough so that he could unbutton her shirt and unhook her bra without breaking the kiss. She returned the favor by unbuttoning his own shirt and untucking it from cummerbund and pants. Her hands paused as she encountered the knife and he cursed himself silently for having forgotten about it. That a fucking sloppy move on his part.
"What's this?" she asked, pulling the knife sheath from his waist before he could stop her. She gasped at the size of it.
"It's just a bit of protection, sugarbutt. You can hold on to it if it'll make you feel better." She seemed to consider this before leaning over to put the knife under the bed and straddling him, pulling him into a sitting position on the bed. "Although, I'm beginning to think that I may be the one in need of protection here, you little minx," Jeffrey said with a wink, allowing her to divest him of his tux jacket, cummerbund, and shirt. She then pushed him back on the bed and Jeffrey took a moment to marvel at how quickly she had leveled the playing field between the two of them. She removed her own shirt and bra, and they were on even ground, both wearing nothing but pants, socks, shoes, and matching looks of heated desire.
Jeffrey gasped as he crawled over to him like a hungry lioness and moved her hands over his bare chest, moving slowly and with teasing movements down to his waist where her hands hovered over his pants buttons and the very seat of his arousal. Before he could look to see if she was going to go through with undressing him completely, she moved down to his feet to untie Sands' highly polished black shoes, something he had forgotten about. Once when they were both on the floor, his socks with them, did she move back to his waist where she deftly undid the buttons and slid the zipper down. Before he could go any further he had rolled her over on her back and was taking off her own shoes and socks and undoing the buttons to his jeans. He had been pretty submissive so far, but it just wasn't in his nature to do so. Sands' either for that matter.
With a growl he rolled Halia over so that he was on top of her. Once he had managed this, he attacked her mouth thoroughly, kissing her as if there were no tomorrow; which was true. For her, at least. "I wasn't done," she pouted when he finally let her up for air.
"Neither was I," she said with a smirk before rolling him back over. She then reached down once more to unbutton and remove his pants, and this time he didn't stop her. He instead aided her movements with a gentle rising of his hips so she could pull his pants out from underneath him. He could remain still; be a good boy, for a little while. If she was so intent on taking the lead he wasn't going to stop her. For now.
"Having fun?" he asked, noticing she was staring at his now only silk boxer- clad form.
"I'll be having more fun once I get you out of those—" her voice cut off as he grabbed her roaming hands hard enough to hurt.
"Not so fast, my little minx. I do not like being told what to do. Keep that in mind and the evening will go a hell of a lot more smoothly," Jeffrey warned, his eyes going slightly cold.
"You're hurting me," Halia said softly, trying to pull her wrists away.
"I promise to let you go if you do what I tell you," Jeffrey said slowly, not exactly letting up in his fierce grip of her wrists, but not holding quite as firmly as before.
Halia narrowed her eyes at him, but had the courage to ask, "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to finish undressing yourself for me. Basically, I want you naked, and soon. And then I'll allow you to finish what you started, savvy?" Jeffrey asked, his tone brooking no argument.
Halia nodded and Jeffrey released her wrists. She rubbed at them for a moment before standing up off the bed and unbuttoning her blue jeans, letting them sink to the floor. "There, are you happy? We're on even ground now," she pointed out, gesturing to his silk black boxers and her own satin and lace panties.
Jeffrey barely had the time to grudgingly nod before Halia leapt on top of him again, her mouth locked with his, her entire body rubbing at his furiously, creating a delicious friction between the two of them that almost made him gasp. "I never thought I'd find a woman with such a...voracious sexual appetite as my own," he said when she had finally released him. "Are you ready?"
"Yes," she whispered, her eyes glazed with need. Jeffrey didn't have to be told twice. He quickly pulled his boxers down just enough to free himself, and hooked a finger around the edge of her panties and did the same, thrusting into her with a grunt. He then rolled her over again on to her back and his thrusts became more forceful, with her moaning and writhing beneath him, her eyes fluttering. He noticed that their legs were tangled together in a mixture of limbs and underwear, but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about now was the activity he was currently engaged in, and what the fuck he was going to do with her in the morning.
*** Halia lay in Jeffrey's arms, the both of them completely sated and almost utterly exhausted from their play. Halia rolled her head over in a slow movement on Jeffrey's chest to look at the clock on her bedside table. It read 1:52 AM. "Well, time sure does fly when you're having fun," she commented, not moving her head to look at him. Jeffrey glanced over at the clock as well and she could feel him nod. "Do you intend on keeping your promise?" Halia asked quietly.
For a second, Jeffrey found he didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about. 'What promise?' he asked himself, and Sands, for that matter. "Yes, I'll keep it," Sands answered before Jeffrey had the chance. "Now go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." Halia only nodded slowly, and Sands waited until he was completely sure she was asleep before speaking out loud, "This is nice, and I know you fucking enjoyed yourself, but you're going to kill her in the morning anyway, aren't you?" he asked Jeffrey quietly.
"Why? Do you really care whether or not I do? Tell me the truth. Do you really care whether or not I, or you for that matter, kill her tomorrow morning?" Jeffrey asked.
Sands thought about it for a long moment, and found that he didn't. "No, I don't. She was fun in bed, but that's all. She's served a purpose, and now I have no other use for her."
"And there's the sociopath I know and hate," Jeffrey said with an almost fond tone to his voice. "Now get some fucking sleep. I'll wake you up tomorrow before she does."
"Fine, goodnight you irritating psychotic bastard," Sands muttered, closing his eyes.
"Goodnight you annoying sociopathic asshole," Jeffrey responded, and they both fell into a deep, even sleep.
***
Jeffrey opened his eyes some 7 hours later, taking a moment to remember where he was. He felt a curious weight on his chest and looked down to see a brunette head lying there, and the entire night came back in a flash; beautiful, willing Sara, who had died at his hands, seeing Rivers fall to the ground with a slit throat even though he didn't die, killing that fucking nosy bartender, and now Halia. Seemingly innocent naïve and yet voracious Halia, who would also die at his hands this morning.
He took care not to wake her as he gently lifted her head off of his chest and laid it in the place he had recently vacated as he slipped out of bed with a long stretch. He squinted in the sunlight that passed through the blinds into the room before walking around the bed, attempting to locate his underwear. They had been discarded sometime in the middle of the night in a haze of passion, and he had no idea where they had gotten to. He bent over and began looking under the bed. He did find his pants, shirt, jacket, and most importantly, his knife, but not his underwear. Or his cummerbund and tie either, for that matter. "Fuck, where could they have fucking gotten to. He cast his eyes around the room, trying to think outside the box. His eyes trailed upwards and noticed a black scrap of silk hanging from one of the blades of the ceiling fan and smirked, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He reached up and pulled them off of it, shaking them out slightly in case they were a bit dusty before pulling them on. He then pulled on his pants before looking at his shit in distaste. He didn't want to wear it fucking again, and he certainly wasn't going to wear the fucking noose, but he'd wear the jacket at least. Now, if only he could find a decent shirt. He smirked and wandered over to Halia's dresser decided 'what the hell. I'm going to kill her anyway,' and began searching the drawers for a suitable shirt.
He hit gold in the first drawer he tried, and in more ways than one. After pulling out a large plain black cotton shirt, he had found something rather...interesting for a woman to be hiding in her underwear and t-shirt drawer. He pulled out a heavy .45 handgun and looked at it as if it was about to turn and shoot him. "Holy fuck, can she even fire this thing? It's a fucking hand cannon!" he exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down to a loud whisper, not wanting her to wake up. He cocked it open and saw that it was fully loaded too, with a bullet in the chamber. He was about to put it back where he had found it and continue getting dressed when Halia's still sleepy voice assaulted his ears.
"Jeffrey? What are you doing?" Before he even thought to answer her question, he had already turned and fired a bullet into her chest, her blood spilling out onto the sheets, vibrant and red. "Why?" she whispered, her face screwed up in pain, a trickle of blood running out the edge of her mouth.
"Because it's the way I am," Jeffrey said without feeling, pulling the trigger until the gun was empty, and Halia's body was now a bloodied ruin beneath him. Jeffrey dropped the spent gun to the bed in distaste and started to hear someone clapping. He frowned when he saw that it was him, or rather Sands.
"Nice work. Very cold-hearted. Now finished getting dressed so we can see if there's anything in the kitchen to have for breakfast," Sands muttered absently.
Jeffrey just stood there staring, Halia's now glassy eyes staring back up at him, the "Why?" she had asked him still echoing through his ears. After a moment he shrugged and continued getting dressed, putting the dead woman on the bed out of his mind and going about his morning as usual.
***
Julian nearly cheered when his butler announced that the CIA had come to visit his home. He hadn't bothered hiding like Sands apparently had after the party, he had seen neither hide nor hair of his unwanted houseguest since last night when they had become separated, and he wasn't the least bit sorrowful. "Send them in," he called out, taking a seat behind the desk in his study. The butler nodded and left, two women and a man entering a moment later. He looked at the man in shock, "Agent Rivers I must say I'm-" he was cut off abruptly by Roland.
"Surprised to see me still alive, Mr. Manchester? Well, you're not the only one," Roland said, putting a hand gently to the while shallow, nasty looking cut across his throat. "I don't know why Sands didn't kill me, but it will be the biggest mistake he's made so far. Because I don't intend to give up. And I will find him. That's why I came here, as it were," he said, taking a seat at one of the chairs in the room, leaving Susannah to take the other, and Emily left to drag another chair over from the back wall. Julian rose to help her, but she just waved a hand as to say, 'I'm used to this. Roland's a bastard, can't you tell?'
Once Emily was finally seated, Julian reclaimed his own chair and spoke gently, "I think I understand why you came here, Agents. You want some insight into that bloody psychotic bastard, Sands, am I correct?"
"You're damn right I do. Starting with why you didn't turn him into the local police at least when he showed up at your doorstep. You must have known he's wanted in connection with at least 3 murders in DC."
"He confessed to four," Julian said slowly.
"He told you about them? What did he say?" Emily asked.
"Did he say where he put Yvette's body?" Roland asked, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his knuckles turning white.
"He said he woke up in bed next to her, and that she was dead. He didn't give many more details than that. As for where he put her?" Julian paused to remember Sands' exact words. "He said, and I quote, "It's dissolved into nothingness along with a transvestite I killed in a bathtub in a particularly seedy motel room in the middle of downtown DC." He didn't say which motel, and I didn't ask. He then admitted to killing someone named Sprout and a guy he didn't know on the street. Wait, I think he said he was some kind of bartender."
"What the fuck's he got against bartenders?" Emily mused aloud to herself.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," Julian said with a frown.
"We found the body of the bartender from the party last night in front of the McGovern estate. His throat had been cut," Susannah said with a solemn look. "We also found the body of one Sara Jenkins in the coat room, also murdered last night."
"Oh God, he told me about her too. At the party. He said that he had "fucked her and then killed her." Pardon the language," he said with a nod toward the two female agents. Susannah nodded back demurely while Emily just waved a hand absently. "He truly is insane, Agent Rivers. What he told you all last night wasn't a lie. He's bloody schizophrenic. I've seen him argue with 'himself,' I even saw him draw a knife on his own neck for God's sake when he got in an argument with Jeffrey. That's what his other personality is called. Bloody psychotic Jeffrey."
"So what, I'm supposed to let this bastard spend the rest of his fucking life in a cozy little institution somewhere because he's a little fucking nutty? There is no way in hell that I'm going to see that happen. He's going to burn for the people he killed, and I don't mean that theologically."
"Listen, I haven't seen him since the party last night and I can honestly say that I don't miss him in the least. He threatened my life more than once while he was here, and hearing him go on about killing people and argue with...Jeffrey was a tad...unsettling."
"What did he and...Jeffrey fight about?" Emily asked, leaning forward a bit to hear Julian's answer.
"I'm not entirely sure, to tell you the truth. But they did fight a lot. In fact, Sands seemed to fight with Jeffrey over killing people. He claimed that it was Jeffrey's fault; that Jeffrey did it, not him."
"What else did he say?" Emily pressed.
"Oh who cares? So he's a fucking whackjob. We knew that already. None of that matters. What matters is finding him before he kills someone else," Roland said with a glare in Emily and Julian's direction.
"He probably already has. If he's as psychotic as we all seem to believe he is, save Agent Rivers, then he won't ever stop. I think it would be a good idea if we got some protective custody placed on you, Mr. Manchester. There's a good chance that Sands will be coming for you next," Susannah warned with a direct look in his direction.
"I'll take my chances, thank you. I won't run and hide, especially not from the likes of him," Julian asserted with a glower.
"You will call us if the bastard shows up again, won't you Mr. Manchester?" Roland asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh yes, of course. I'm not as foolish as you might believe, Agent Rivers. If I see Sands again, which I most sincerely doubt, I shall inform you immediately," he assured them with a nod. "Now, if there's nothing else," he said, rising from his seat, "I have a bit of work to do. My man will show you out." Roland, Susannah and Emily all got up from their seats and began walking through the door, each one of them recognizing a dismissal when they heard one. They wouldn't be getting anything more out of him. "If there's any further way I can assist you or your investigation, do give me a call." He handed Roland one of his business cards. "I bid you the best of luck in catching him. And do be careful."
"Oh you can count on that. We'll catch him, there's no doubt about that," Roland said with finality, before the group of them turned on their heels and left Julian to his thoughts.
TBC
A/N: Sorry that this took so long to post!! I wrote a new story with the OUATIM author Neon Dasies (Psnoo17) called More Than Darkness. You can find it on www. adultfanfiction.net under the name of S_and_M. Enjoy!!