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"I blamed him, Beth, for sending you away, that's all I could see." Mick's voice was a whisper as he stared out over the city. They were escorted into one of Josef's conference rooms upon arriving. "I didn't see this coming." His voice was filled with regret, a feeling he was well acquainted with, lately. He closed his eyes as he felt Beth's hand travel up his back and squeeze his shoulder. It was that small comfort she gave him that he missed so much.
Josef stalks past his assistants, ignoring their urgent demands for direction. The conference door bangs against the wall, startling Beth.
Josef barely looked at Beth as he strode by her. "Sorry, Beth. I forget my manners when people are killing me. Who'd you two find at the morgue?" He grabbed a pitcher of Scotch that was at the middle of the table and poured three glasses. He handed one to Beth who vigorously shook her head no. Mick stared at the glass of scotch for a few seconds before he took the glass, slugging back half of its contents.
Mick mumbles "It was Percy, and he was human." He finishes his scotch and sets it back to the table looking for a reaction from Josef.
Josef's quirks an eyebrow in surprise then rounds the table end of the table to face Mick, seating himself on the edge and folding his arms across his chest. "Even when Percy Whitlock was human, he wasn't human."
"He was human enough to die this morning, Guillermo and I found the injection site for the compound. Why would people think Percy was you?" Mick's hands went to his hips as he glared at Josef.
"Certainly not because of his taste in men's wear… I kept giving him the name of my tailor so he would at least look the part… he still thought he was working for Howard. Hughes looked like a bum." Mick and Beth look at him, puzzled until Josef drops himself in a chair, obviously tired. "I was selling the company down in Huntington Beach, he was standing in as CEO until the deal was finalized. This Legion war is like bleeding money… I'm in a bidding war for the rest of the cure… Oscar isn't cheap… are you sure you two weren't hiding out in luxury hotels…"
"Josef, the last hotel we stayed at was called 'The four F's…' and was a full service bodily fluid establishment. I couldn't tell the flea bites from the vamp bites… I should demand a finder's fee for every meal I scrounged up for Oscar." Her arms were crossed and her blue eyes snapped with a familiar fire. Mick covered his mouth to hide his grin then touched Beth's arms, quieting her before he continued.
"Josef, how much more of the cure is out there other than the three doses we know of?"
" I don't know. I've got chemists analyzing it… it's not like the house of Duvall is giving up any of their secret recipes and Coraline, well she's Coraline, vanishing again. I'm in deep… Kostan Industries is a step away from a hostile take over… with the price of stock dropping…"
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Lady Isobel Wallace pulled the brush through her long white hair as she looked from the hotel window out over the LA skyline. Moments of peace and quiet had been few in the past weeks and with nightfall; the battle would start again.
"It needs to stop now, Isobel." The man's hollow voice whispered, echoing in the room and the brush stilled in her hand. He was back. "Yes, it does, Findlaich." Her hand dropped to the claymore and she turned slowly to greet her visitor. "I warned you about sneaking up on me."
"Auch, be at ease, woman." Mac Bethad mac Finalaich raised his hands in surrender. "I came only to talk."
Lady Wallace lifted the claymore and placed it across her knees. "And what do you have to say that I might want to hear?"
"Well, let me see…" Macbeth swept back his trench coat to push his hands into his pockets and he ambled slowly to flank her, scanning the skyline, too. "I just returned from Alaska."
Isobel glanced up at him, her disapproval clear. "You followed Kostan and St. John?"
Macbeth smiled, showing just a hint of fang. "No, I followed the warrior and the woman. He's very good. I lost them when the boat left Seward, mores the pity."
Isobel's hand flexed on the hilt of the claymore and she lifted it, considering the blade. "And I suppose you participated in the battle? Which side did you take?"
"Oh, I dinna take a side." Macbeth shrugged. "I just joined in with them that were handy."
"You old fool!" Isobel rose, the sword loose in her hand, to look down on him. "What would you have done if Kostan or St. John had confronted you? How would you explain your presence?"
"Eeehh…" Macbeth ruffled his shaggy red hair and looked away. "Kostan knows I'm here. I made myself known to him back in the fall of the year. The boyo needed a pep talk."
"A pep talk?" The modern slang sounded strange coming from a vampire who was approaching a millennium in years and Isobel sighed, shaking her head. "Findlaich, you promised after the Rasputin incident, you wouldn't interfere anymore."
"Aye. Grigory has never forgiven me but I wasna interfering!" Macbeth shoved his hand back in his pocket. "You know that Kostan has the ability to control his territory. He needed to know it, too. Besides…" he straightened, and turned towards her, enjoying the brief flash of alarm that flickered over her features as he withdrew the sword from her hand. "I might have promised not to interfere but I dinna promise to follow your rules. I'll do what I see as best for the survival of my kind, Isobel."
"You're impossible!" Lady Wallace snatched back the claymore. "Just impossible!"
"Oh, come now, Isobel! Tis Findlaich you're talking to, not some rogue vampire." Macbeth teased. "You know I'm not here to give orders, I'm here to observe. I do have some suggestions…" Macbeth moved too quickly for the human eye to see and he was across the room, pouring himself a scotch. "This St. John, that Duvall bitch's whelp, he's got the makings, he has. He'll do, that one."
"I'm glad you think so, Findlaich." Isobel laid the claymore carefully on the dressing table and crossed the room. "We are watching him closely, Kostan, too." She accepted the tumbler of scotch that he offered, watching him over the rim as she took a small sip. "You won't be… helping them come to a decision, will you?"
"No, I willna be helping them." Macbeth tossed down the scotch and refilled his glass. "Unless I feel it is absolutely necessary. Kostan may need another nudge." He raised his glass to toast, clinking his glass lightly against hers.
"To the balance of good and evil, Lady Isobel Wallace. May it always be found."
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It was in the elevator, a quick glance and the gentle touch of fingers. Beth was high on adrenaline and living in the moment. Things could feel normal again. The doors chimed announcing their floor and she pulled Mick out into the hallway with a devilish glint in her eyes. He smiled and danced her through the front door enjoying the song of her laughter. She ran from him, only to be caught a few seconds later. They laughed together like children and for the first time in months, they began to find comfort in each others arms.
"How I've missed you…" He whispered in her hair.
She turned her head inviting him. He dragged his tongue along her neck, then moved to her mouth. She insisted and pulled his face to her neck.
He smiles against her skin, "What are you doing?"
"I think you know…." Alarms start to ring in Mick's ears as he feels her emptiness.
"No. I don't." he tries to pull away from Beth's grip but she holds his jacket, keeping him close..
"I know what you really want…" A familiar phrase that set him afire not that long ago.
Mick tries to pull back from her again. "Beth…" I know you're hurting…
"I can take it…" I can't feel anymore… Mick grabs her hands, his face reflecting her pain. Beth bites her lip as tears threaten to fall. "…why didn't you tell me..."
"About what, Beth?" Lance, the Legion, your blood… allure?
"Any of it…" She pleads as hot tears fall down her cheeks..
"I…" couldn't … He takes her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks softly, wanting to erase all she's been through. "How could I…?" …change the way you look at me? ...Without you here... I've done things...
She gently moves his hands around her. "Feel me…" …make me feel again… Her fingers scratch along his neck and into his hair. They kiss and moan into each other, hands pulling and grabbing, bodies feeling and aching to be closer. She pulls him down and scrapes her teeth along his neck. He moans and rubs her body closer to his. She smiles and grates her teeth once more, grabbing skin and muscle and biting into his flesh. His body goes rigid and his hands grab her head, pulling her away.
His eyes searched her placid face. "Please, don't do this…" not to us…
She couldn't think, her mind was numb, lucid thoughts replaced by raw emotions she couldn't name. Lashing out at Mick, in an uncontrolled release of rage. It blinded her. It consumed her. "Could it be any worse than what I've seen?" Beth jerked from his grasp and ran to the stairs, heading to the shower. .
Mick slumped down on to the couch. He could hear the shower start upstairs. If he wanted to, he could hear her crying and smell the salt mix with the water. They were changed, broken. The blind leading the blind.
Logan walked in through the office door. Mick didn't move. The adjoining door was softly closed, giving privacy. How much could Logan's young senses detect? Enough to stay away, but not enough to leave.
Work... The great distraction. Purpose for moving forward. Forgetting. Healing?
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