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Chapter Twenty-Four: The Walls of Jericho
"When the trumpets sounded, the army shouted, and at the sound of the trumpet, when the men gave a loud shout, the wall collapsed; so everyone charged straight in, and they took the city."
-Joshua, 6:20
"Adrian. Come in and shut the door."
Adrian did as he was told, slipping into the minister's sprawling office and letting the lock click behind him. It was nearly midnight, and the rest of the ministry was dark and silent. Adrian had received an owl about twenty minutes ago insisting he come to the Ministry at once.
He'd been out with a fetching brunette at the time and hadn't particularly wanted to abandon what he knew was a sure thing, but as Lucius was often reminding him, Adrian's good fortune was the minister's to bestow or take away.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"We have a problem," Lucius said. "There's a leak somewhere in my administration."
Adrian ran a hand through his light hair as he considered.
"How big?"
"I don't know," Lucius admitted in cold annoyance. "But I want you to find out and stop it up. Now."
"Of course, sir. But if I may ask, what think we've been breached? Reed assured me he kept the department tight and discreet."
"Well I'm afraid this latest incident has forced me to…sever ties with Mr. Reed. He's made one too many blunders. Let that be a lesson to you."
"Who was the traitor?"
"An American arithmatist Reed recruited to protect certain investments. As it were, she was passing those discreet transactions to someone State-side."
"What do that Americans care what we do here? They didn't lift a finger when the Dark Lord assumed power last time."
"I thought the same," Lucius agreed. "But the I remembered that my son has been spending quite a bit of time there recently. He's no great admirer of the Americans; what's he doing there?"
Adrian shrugged.
"It might be nothing. He's dating an American woman. He has been for almost two years. Still, I'll look into it."
"He's seeing an American?" Lucius sneered in disgust.
Adrian nodded.
"Draco rarely brings her with him to London. I've only met her once, but she's rather fetching," Adrian said noncommittally
She had accompanied Draco to Adrian's wedding, and he admittedly had paid her minimal attention at the time. The memory of it made his lip curl.
"More fetching than the last one?" Lucius said wryly.
"It would be hard for any woman to be more desirable than Lefevre," Adrian pointed out mildly.
"You think so?" Lucius said.
Adrian licked his lips.
"Yes," he admitted. "I do."
"Then do as I ask, and when the time's right she's yours on a silver plate."
Adrian didn't smile, but his gold eyes glittered greedily.
"Of course, Sir. Always."
"I want all Draco's contacts in the States run down at once. Find if they're involved. Be thorough, Adrian. No stone unturned."
Adrian nodded, invigourated by the prospect of getting to fuck Lefevre at last.
"Of course, sir. Should I start with the spy? I can extract any secret you need."
Lucius gave an annoyed sneer.
"I'm afraid not. I told Reed to bleed her down from the answers, and he hired Dolohov. She was dead before I could get anything of value. I need you to find me someone with a subtler touch. Someone who knows the line better than thugs like Dolohov."
"There's no need, Sir. I can handle that."
"No," Lucius replied. "I need you to stop up the leak, and I don't want you to divide attention. Find me someone here in London. Someone to…coerce the next few traitors we catch."
Adrian considered.
"I might have someone in mind," he said. "They would need coaching, but I think they could be perfect."
"Then I want them trained up immediately. I won't be kept waiting on this."
"I'll see to it at once, Sir," Adrian said.
"See that you do," Lucius agreed.
Adrian nodded, already pulling his floo from his pocket. He flooed his younger brother Tommy.
"T," he wrote. "I need you to reach out to one of your Hogwarts classmates, preferably tonight. It's important"
The following evening Adrian sat at the bar at the Em, waiting. His guest was due to arrive at 11, it was currently 10:50. He took a large sip of his whiskey before setting eyes on her.
She was a wisp of a thing, averagely tall and extremely willowy. She had girlish face, like a China doll, with impossibly large blue eyes, though their hardness made her seem less docile. Her skin was extremely pale and her breasts small, but Adrian found there was something oddly alluring about her.
Her eyes found him and she started over.
"Victoria," Adrian said, as they were friends. "Sit down."
She eyed him somewhat disdainfully.
"You're Tommy's older brother?"
"I am. Drink?"
"What do you want to talk about?" she said instead. "Tommy said it would be worth my while."
Adrian snapped to Quinn, who was tending the bar. Jaime nodded.
"I like to think so," Adrian said casually. "And I hope you like gin. Don't be shy, pull up a chair and stay awhile."
She sat down as Jaime set a martini front of her, and she eyed it but didn't take a sip.
"What's this about?" Victoria repeated.
"Take a drink and I'll tell you."
Victoria sneered. She was clearly unaccustomed to taking orders. However, she acquiesced. She tried to remain stoic, but she couldn't completely hide that she found the taste too bitter.
"I forgot you're only eighteen," Adrian said, giving her a mocking smirk. "You look older."
"We both know I don't," she sneered, taking another large sip to prove him wrong.
"You seem older, then," he said, giving her a casual leer.
She said nothing in reply.
"So Tommy said you were in Ravenclaw," he continued. "How was that?"
She took a gulp this time, draining the last of the clear concoction. Jaime was placing another in front of her almost at once.
"Wholly unsatisfying," she replied, taking a third sip.
Clearly the bitter taste of the gin was growing on her.
"I can imagine," he replied, tawny eyes dancing across her face. "I think you would have been better suited to Slytherin."
"It wouldn't have been a sufficient challenge."
"Forget schoolwork," he said imperiously. "If you'd been in Slytherin, you would have found people to challenge you."
"They could have tried, I suppose."
"You would have loved the challenge. I can see how ill Ravenclaw suited you."
"That didn't keep me from being excellent."
"I'm sure it didn't," Adrian smirked. "But you said yourself it never quite satisfied. I bet you didn't have a ton of boyfriends either."
"What makes you say that?" She demanded hotly, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Tommy said there were always buzzards, but you didn't bite. You know what that tells me?"
"That I have no patience for over-confident sods with tiny todgers?"
"That you're still a virgin," Adrian said, giving a sardonic grin before taking a sip of his drink.
"Fuck off," she sneered, embarrassment growing.
"That wasn't a no, Torrii."
"Don't call me that," she hissed.
In the low light, his eyes glinted like two gold coins.
"Then man up, look me in the eye, and tell me I'm wrong," he said evenly.
She took a sip of her drink before answering.
"I have no interest in being pawed by some fumbling boy who won't last five minutes."
Adrian raised his eyebrows.
"Good point. Then again, you've never been with someone like me. I won't grope you like a little boy; I'll fuck you the way only a powerful man can."
"That's a lofty claim. I seriously doubt you're as powerful as you think you are."
His eyes flashed again. He rarely, if ever, allowed someone to speak to him that way. He leaned in, and he could see a latent fear in her feisty blue eyes.
"Then why don't you sleep with me and find out?" he challenged.
She took another sip and looked away, as if he was boring her. In reality he suspected he'd begun to make her nervous.
"Is that all you asked me her for?" She said, trying to feign casualness.
"No," he said. "I also came to offer you a job."
"In the Auror's office?" she said, eying his badge, which was lying on the bar, with distain. "Not interested. If I wanted an ineffectual rubber wand, I would buy a dildo."
He laughed aloud, impossibly white teeth glittering under the chandeliers.
"It's not an…official position. It's more like an independent contract."
"What is it?"
"Extraction work."
"I'm not a dentist," she said, nonplussed.
He laughed again.
"What I need you to extract is information."
"How?" she said, growing visibly interested.
"Mostly through physical means. However, I need a—delicate hand. No one too over-eager. That really does me no good. To get what me what I need, you'll have to be patient and calculated."
Her eyes were glittering.
"I'm neither impatient nor heavy-handed," she agreed.
"I wouldn't imagine not," he said. "That's why I chose you. I think you have the raw talent I need. Everything else I can teach you. In fact, I can teach a great many things about the human body. Pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin. You can't fully understand without the other."
She took another sip in lieu of responding. He could practically hear her pulse quickening, and he recognised the look in her big blue eyes; it was a look women had been giving him since he was sixteen years old. He raised his eyebrows at her and she flushed.
"If I were interested—" she began at last.
"Which you are," Adrian pointed out casually.
"If I were," she repeated. "Is the job mine?"
"Not quite," he said. "I need two things first."
"And they are?"
"You come back with me right now and I give you your first lesson in pleasure," he said, leaning in and casually fingering a lock of her dark brown hair.
She turned her head away, clearly, despite her air of confidence, slightly nervous at his touch.
"Is that it?"
"No," he said, dropping his hand. "I also need to see what I can do. You have to audition for me."
She considered.
"On whom?"
Adrian shrugged.
"I leave that to your discretion. However, if you'd really like to impress me, I'd warn against a stranger. Too—impersonal."
She nodded grimly, cogs turning at once.
"You already have someone in mind," he surmised, eyes glittering.
She gave a shrug.
"If I was the product of my mother's first marriage and not her second, I would be a pureblood. As it stands, I'm a half-blood."
Adrian's smile turned someone grim. He was cruel, he knew, but his family was one of the few things he actively sought to protect. However he considered the idea of a Muggle father. It disgusted him, too.
He nodded.
"Do we have an agreement?"
She considered his outstretched hand before sliding her fingers into his waiting grasp. He immediately tugged her to feet so she was nestled between his splayed quadriceps.
"Let's get started, then, shall we?"
"C'mon," Annalysse insisted, looking urgently over her shoulder even as she spoke. "Get up. Adrian's two minutes behind me, tops. You should be gone already."
There was a crash from the distant hallway, and Annalysse's head snapped to the noise as she listened, breathless. When she turned back, it was to find that Leolin had risen, and her was wand trained on Annalysse. Annalysse's wand was still in the holster, and she wouldn't be able to grab it before Leolin got at least one good spell in. At this distance, one was all she would need.
"Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you right now," Leolin said, voice quaking along with her outstretched wand hand.
"Go ahead," Annalysse breathed, holding up her arms and eying Leolin's menacing eleven and a half inch Yew. "But if you do, Adrian will drag you back to London and toss you at the minister's feet. Lucius is unhappy with you, Lefevre; he's looking bring you to heel."
There was another crash, and they both looked. Annalysse was growing more agitated, and Leolin more desperate and fearful.
"Why would be help me?" Leolin demanded, voice pushed higher by her mistrust and fear.
Annalysse was breathless with agitation. If she was faking her distress to trick Leolin, she was an excellent actress.
"I promised Max I would look after you if I could," Annalyse said, and there was a yearning to the way she said his name that Leolin sensed was genuine. "But if Adrian catches you in here, I'll have no choice but to bring you in."
Leolin lowered her wand.
"It was you," she whispered in disbelief. "At the manor. You stunned Victoria and imperiused Graham."
Annalysse nodded, though if she'd expected Leolin to lower her wand, she was disappointed.
"You got Daphne Greengrass murdered," she snarled, wand still raised. "Tate left her body in the house for her children to find!
"I know," Annalysse said. "And I'm sorry about that. I never intended for her to get hurt. I just—"
There was a not-too-distant bang, signaling someone had just entered the suite.
"That's Adrian," she said in panic. "Quick! You have to hide. In the closet, go! I'll stall him as long as I can," Annalysse said, pushing Leolin backwards. "Do you know any cloaking spells?"
"A few," Leolin admitted.
They could hear the heavy boot-tread of Adrian's dragon-hides and the resonant sing of their steel-tips against Italian marble. They knew they had only seconds.
"Drop them all," Annalysse said. "As many as your can remember. I'll do what I can to keep him out here."
With that she slammed the door shut, and not a moment too soon.
Leolin watched through crack as Adrian burst through the French doors to the bedroom, golden eyes alight.
He too was dressed all in black, and he held what resembled a Venetian carnivale mask in his hand.
Leolin squeezed her eyes shut and cast a disillusionment charm. Immediately she experienced a sensation similar to being inside the womb. She could hear, but everything sounded distant and out of focus. When she peered through the doors again, it felt like she was looking at them underwater.
"Salvio Hexia," she whispered to herself once she was protected, though she realised that if she reached the point of defending against hexes, she would already be in extremely hot water.
"Where's Lefevre?" Adrian was asking, his furious tone unhampered by the charm.
"Gone, sir," Annalysse said dispassionately, her fear long forgotten.
She stood with her hands behind her back and her feet shoulder-width apart, just like a shoulder.
"Gone?" Adrian repeated. "What you do mean, gone?"
"I don't know, sir," Annalysse said in a calm voice. "I came straight here, but she was already gone by the time I arrived. Maybe she never came back. Maybe she went to Chaisson's room instead.
"Without this?" Adrian snarled, throwing Leolin's vermillion gown at Annalysse. "Are you suggesting she came back here, took this off, then sauntered over to his room in her fucking knickers? Lucky him!"
"No, maybe she chang—ah!"
Annalyssa called out as Adrian grabbed a fistful of her ponytail and dragged her head backward.
"I don't know how she got out," Annalysse grit out, trying again. "I only know that she was gone when I got here."
Adrian released his grip at last, and Annalysse immediately tipped her head forward towards her chest to relieve the ache in her neck.
"I want this room torn down to the studs," Adrian demanded imperiously. "Even if she was warned, she might still be hiding in here somewhere."
"Of course," Annalysse said in a cool tone.
"What are you waiting for?" Adrian demanded. "I mean now."
Behind the door, Leolin was forcing herself to breathe as quietly as possible. She was so terrified she felt she might faint. Her mind was already simmering with the prospect of being "brought to heel".
Annalysse began muttering spells, as Adrian's eyes danced around, falling on each corner and swell of the room.
"Where are you hiding, Lefevre?" he called quietly. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."
Finally his eyes fell on the closet and he smiled. Leolin backed away swiftly as he his body blocked out the light of pouring through the crack. He opened the door, eyes swiveling. He drew his wand and cast an uncloaking spell, and she could feel it swirling over her protection charm, seeking entry. The wall of her protective bubble weakened. If he tried that again, he would find her.
"Lefevre," Adrian breathed stepping farther in and forcing Leolin deeper. "I know you're in here. I can smell your perfume."
Finally Leolin'd reached a corner, and she held her breath and turned her head away as Adrian came within six inches of her.
He raised his chin and closed his eyes, and she knew he was inhaling her scent again. Why was it that smell could pass through the charm? She prayed the smell of it on her clothes would put him off. She chastised herself for the perfume; her mother always said she wore far too much.
For a terrifying instant, his keen eyes met hers, and she was sure he could see her. His gaze seemed to dance and forth across her face, and she realised he might be studying something behind her head. She didn't dare turn to look.
Finally, he turned away at last, curling his nose in disgust. She had to clamp a hand to her mouth to stifle an audible sigh.
"Damnit, Blake!" Adrian screamed as he emerged, attempting to slam the door, which bounced off part of the lock mechanism of the other door and swung back open. Leolin remained in the shadows. "I gave you one fucking job tonight! Keep an eye on Lefevre until the time was right. How is it that you still managed to fail me?"
"She's clever," Anna defended. "And it's not just her I was up against. She's got Malfoy and Zabini and that new curse-breaker Chaisson on her side as well. That's a lot of pieces to be managing at once."
"I thought I could trust you with this," Adrian sneered. "Maybe I should have sent Torrii instead."
"If you had," Anna sneered. "Lefevre would have been lying in a pool of her own blood. Torrii's brilliant, but she can't handle finesse and you know it."
"That's right," he said coldly. "But that's why I have you, Anna my love. To handle the important things that need handling. And yet for you supposed cunning, Lefevre's in the fucking wind. I needed her, damnit!"
"Perhaps if you'd told me sooner what you had in mind for her, I could ha—"
Whack.
Adrian backhanded Annalysse across the face. Leolin knew from personal experience how much it had probably hurt. However, Annalysse took the blow without complaint.
"No bloody excuses from you. I want her found. Now."
"She might already be gone," Anna pointed out. "She probably went to Brankovitch or Chaisson and took off for an unplottable safe house. That's what I would do, if I was her."
Adrian slapped her again, this time harder. She gave a soft cry, but she straightened almost immediately, even as her cheek grew scarlet.
"Then get out of here and find me a suitable replacement. Someone in the inner circle."
"Of course."
"And Blake?"
"Yes?"
"If you fail me again, don't bother coming back. I'll just send Torii to fetch you. She can send along what's left in a pill box."
Annalysse gave a solemn nod.
"Of course."
With that Adrian disappeared in the Death Eater's characteristic vortex-form disapparation, Annalysse right behind him.
When they were gone, Leolin collapsed to the ground, her legs no longer able to hold her. Her heart wasn't pumping so much as flitting across beats sporadically, and she took several huge breaths. She needed to get out of here. She thought about what Annalysse had indirectly told her; find Max or Felix and leave.
Of course, her first instinct was to find Draco, but she realised with a pang she wasn't his responsibility. It wouldn't help anyone if he were taken hostage, and Leolin was sure he and Gen had already absconded to one of his safe houses. Same with Ginny and Blaise and Severina and Xavier.
She knew that Sev and Xavy would be loathed to leave her behind, but the group had collectively established a protocol for emergencies, and the rule was always draw the fight outwards by scattering. If they all remained to account for every man, they were all in greater danger.
She rose, shredding her lingerie for loose black clothes and trainers. She had a feeling she would need to be able to run tonight.
Cautiously, she pushed out of the closet, making sure she really was alone. She had to find Felix and get to safety. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to remain hidden from Adrian for long. If either he or Thivierge got a hold of her, she would be in hot water.
She headed for Felix, a bit worried he hadn't found her already. She prayed he wasn't in some sort of trouble.
Felix and get out, she repeated to herself as she tore for the balcony in the sitting room; she was sure the front door was being watched. Felix and get out.
However, as she tore open the French doors and was assailed by the chilly night air, something occurred to her. Annalysse was Adrian's right hand. She was as deep and as high as any spy could hope to go. She was likely privy to information Adrian kept from lieutenants like Montague and Rawle.
She felt an anger welling up at Max for keeping this information buried. Annalysse as a double agent changed everything. She froze. She had to get to Kelly.
She glanced over the edge of the balcony. She was on the thirteen floor of a structure built on a ravine's edge. If she jumped, she would die. Still, she couldn't go out the front. That was surely a trap.
She glanced over again. Even with Arresto Momentum, she would be dashed on the rocks. She leaned farther over, considering the balcony below her. It was a formidable twenty feet or so, but it was more manageable.
Slowly, cautiously, she climbed over the edge, her head spinning at the dizzying drop. Slowly she climbed down towards the lower deck, holding on the columns of the railing and glancing down again, wand clutched in her hand and compromising her grip. She would have to swing in to avoid tumbling backwards into the abyss beyond the safety of the enclosure, and she would have to cast a successful Arresto Momentum the minute she began falling or she would break both legs.
She took a deep exhale.
One. Two. Three
She squeezed her eyes shut and let go, contracting the muscles in her abdomen to send her swinging it.
Her eyes tore open and she whispered, "Arresto Momentum."
She slowly dropped to her feet with a soft thud. The doors to the next suite were open, and she saw the portly figure immediately standing guard imediately. She recognised Ferran Rosier—whom Adrian and the others called Algie—from his thick profile. Algie turned immediately at the sound, grinning as he saw her.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't little. Leolin. Lefevre. Nice of you to drop in, darling."
He casted a binding curse at once, but she blocked it.
"Adrian was hoping you might come down this way," he said, casting another curse.
She blocked again, circling swiftly around him. He countered by circling as well, hurling jinxes every few seconds. She watched his jowls bounce as they moved. She could tell at once Algie was no great dueler, and he'd always been comically out of shape. If she stayed calm, she could win this.
She countered his latest hex before leaping over the nearest couch and hiding behind it.
Much to his growing annoyance, he couldn't penetrate the brocade barrier.
"Stop faffing about, Lefevre!" he demanded, coming around and hurling another bind.
"Shouldn't have eaten so many sweeties at dinner, Algie," she called back, flitting between furniture with agility, and dancing out of the reach of each of his curses.
He was getting winded, and like the snake was she so often accused of being, she was almost ready to strike. As his latest jinx flew past her right hip, she whirled on him. She parried his final attempt before hurling a sonic hex, which hit him squarely in the chest. It drove him backwards violently and off his feet entirely, and she leapt on top of the nearest couch so she had to high ground, taking advantage of his disorientation to cast a tight binding curse.
Iron chains leapt from her wand and snaked around him.
"Be sure to tell Pucey I stopped by, then," she sneered as he struggled. "Oh wait! You won't be able to. What a crying shame. Obliviate."
His eyes immediately glazed over as he inhaled the silvery curse through his nose and mouth. She knew she hadn't cast a strong enough charm to make it permanent, especially because Tate Rawle was a noted master of memory charms. Still, it would at least take him out of play for now.
"Levicorpus," she said, as he looked around wildly.
"What is this?" he asked desperately. "Please, help me!"
She said nothing, only transported him to the closet and stuffed him inside.
"Wait!" he cried, voice distant from the barrier. "Please. I don't know what you think I've done, but I'm innocent. Please, don't leave in here. Please! Please!"
She cast a disillusionment charm over him for good measure before giving a cruel smile.
"Merlin, it is going to take them forever to find you."
She slammed the door and locked it. It felt good to have at least one victory to her name.
When Rosier was sorted, she tore from the room and wrenched the door open into the hall. Robby Macnair was standing guard, but she stunned, chained, and obliterated him before he could even draw his wand. She quickly stuffed his unconscious form in the room and locked the door.
The hall was full of duels and screams, and Leolin drew her hood down over her face and headed off. She remembered Kelly saying their suite was several floors below hers, and she headed in that direction. It was a long shot, but she had to start somewhere in looking for Cara or Kelly or both.
Fortune, it seemed, was on her side, as she tore down the marble staircase, she slammed into someone. She recognised the curls at once, and she cried out in relief.
"Cara," she said. "Oh my gods, thank Merlin!"
"Leolin!" she replied, collapsing into Leolin's embrace. "I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life."
"Where's Kelly?" Leolin demanded. "We have to find him!"
Cara gave an agonised sigh.
"Gone," she whispered. "Already gone."
Leolin shook her head frantically.
"We have to find him. We have to stop him. Blake is on our side. That means we don't need Kelly."
Cara's eyes slipped closed and she gave a shuddering sob, covering her mouth.
Leolin tugged her into her arms again as Cara began to cry.
"It's alright," Leolin said breathlessly. "He's going to be safe! Do you know where they're collecting hostages?"
"I heard a deatheater talking," Cara said. "There's a clearing in the forest. It's across the ravine, near the pitch."
"We have to get there as quickly as possible," Leolin said resolutely. "How many minutes ahead of us is Kelly?"
"Ten," Cara said, wiping her hears and steeling her voice. "Maybe even less."
Leolin nodded.
"Are you ready to run?"
"I could run all night," Cara affirmed.
She was sensibly dressed like Leolin. She pulled on a hood to hide her curls and they took off hand-in-hand.
The lobby was a chaotic jumble, and they tore through skidding across marble and cursing those in masks.
Leolin saw faces she knew all around her.
Fred and George Weasley were back-to-back, firing curses rapidly and hitting ever target.
She saw Vik with a cut on his cheek, hurling hexes at Graham Montague, Daphne's husband.
Leolin longed to help them, but she knew they could all handle themselves.
She and Cara pushed out the door.
"What the hell is that?" Leolin said, pointing a grotesque symbol shining in the inky night sky. It looked like a human heart that had been pierced by three swords.
Cara looked up, shaking her head. Her mother was the retired British ambassador to Romania, Kelly had told Leolin, and she seemed to recognise it at once.
"It's the Bulgarian terror sign," Cara said breathlessly. "Like the dark mark. Things have been tense between Bulgaria and Turkey for months. I heard that Victor Krum and Sergej Genadiev ever mixed it up pretty bad tonight. Lucius was clever to use the Bulgarian terror as a smokescreen. This keeps the heat off him."
They looked up at the bloody heart for a second, which continued to pump grotesquely.
"Alright," Leolin said. "Come on. The bridge across is this way."
She began to tug her to the right, away from the town and towards so darkened rope bride swinging ominously in the wind.
"The main bridge is that way," Cara protested.
"I know," Leolin urged. "But that way will be watched by the Deatheater patrol".
Cara bit her lip. The darkness admittedly looked no less foreboding or dangerous. There were less people this way, but screams still echoed from the darkness, and they stunned three masked men before reaching the yawning chasm.
The bridge was thin and slick, and Cara bit her lip.
"C'mon!" Leolin said, tearing across the wooden planks no wider than two feet.
Cara didn't move.
"I'm terrified of heights," she said, biting her lip.
"Then it's time to conquer it," Leolin said, extending her hand. "Go ahead of me. I have your back."
Cara finally nodded, jogging forward. She gained confidence as she moved, eyes squeezed shut. By the time they were three quarters of the way across the bridge, she was sprinting.
"You're near the end," Leolin cried. "Open your eyes, Cara!"
Cara did as she was told before leaping to safety on the dirt and letting out a loud exhale. When Leolin had joined her, they took off down the darkened path that snaked towards the pitch.
"It's this way," Cara said. "It's not far."
Leolin nodded.
"Be on your guard," Leolin warned, her breath pushing past her lips in a visible puff. It was cold, colder than she'd anticipated, and her legs had began to cramp. "If this is their epicentre, Adrian, Thivierge, and Rawle are probably prowling around."
Cara nodded.
They started off, wands raised. However, they came around a bend, and they could see the light of the campfires in the clearing about three quarters of a mile off. Spurred by their urgency, they began to run, and that was perhaps they grand mistake.
They'd let their haste lower their guard, and they didn't see Mackenzie Travers emerging from the shadows until they were already sprinting past him.
"What have we here?" he demanded, grinning as he disarmed them both, casting their wands casually to the side.
He flicked his wrist lazily and had them both in chains. He yanked off their hoods and laughed.
"Leolin Lefevre!" he laughed, crouching down and grabbing her roughly by the jaw. "Aren't you just a sight for sore eyes! You're the talk of the town this evening. Adrian's been in right state looking for you."
"Don't touch me," Leolin hissed, twisting her head back and forth.
He laughed as he straightened strutting casually to Cara. "Who's your friend?" he asked, He crouched down and Leolin cried out.
"She's no one!"
It was too late. He was pushing Cara's hood back and letting her curls spring forward.
"I know you," Mackenzie said gleefully. "You're Kelly Troy's little wife."
Cara sneered and turned her head away as he pushed her onto her back.
"I liked that dress you were wearing tonight," he said, expression lewd. "Troy has such good taste. Right, Lef?"
Leolin struggled.
"Get off me!" Cara sneered.
"Nah," Mackenzie said, readjusting Cara's chains so they bound only her wrists and ankles.
"I mean it," Cara cried, fighting her panic. It was clear what he intended. "I'll tear you apart!"
He gave a condescending laugh.
"Not sure how," Mackenzie replied, ripping the zipper of Cara's hoodie down and leering at her slender torso.
"I will fucking kill you, Travers," Leolin warned. "Get off her."
"Oh, shut it or I'll shut it for you," Travers sneered.
"You—" Leolin began, and immediately she was silenced.
"Get off!" Cara cried, bucking her hips back and forth.
"That's it," Travers purred. "I like when girls fight back. It makes it so much hotter."
Cara was beginning to cry, but she remained brave, gritting her teeth and still struggling.
Leolin watched in horror as Travers scraped two palms firmly up Cara's torso before squeezing both breasts firmly. Cara gave a discontented half-sob.
"Well they're not as big as Lefevre's," Mackenzie mused, squeezing harder as she tried to dislodge his hands by thrashing. "But I love how fucking firm they are."
Leolin drove her nails into her palms so hard she drew blood, screaming silently. It was heinous to be a victim of rape; she knew that better than anyone. However, watching a friend suffer the same fate was infinitely worse. Still, she wouldn't abandon Cara by looking away. She gave her a reassuring nod. She would stop this. She began screaming the counter-charm in her mind, determined not to fail her friend.
Mackenzie was pushing Cara's shirt and bra up now, exposing her breasts to the cold night air. Mackenzie laughed delightedly as her nipples hardened almost at once.
He bent a head and caught a perfect bud between his teeth.
She cried out in miserable pain as she thrashed violently against the pain.
"Is that really the best you can do?" he demanded, closing his teeth tighter.
Cara gave a piercing scream, and Leolin struggled ever harder.
"Gods, that's it," Travers said, leaning back onto his heels as he began to stroke himself.
Cara began to cry in earnest as he grew visibly in his trousers. She turned her head away to avoid looking at him, but he held her chin.
"No, watch me," he demanded. "It's so much sexier that way."
Cara whimpered.
"Get off me," she said gravely, and he laughed, softly slapping her sore nipple and making her whimper again.
Leolin was working furiously, and she could feel the chains loosening. Still, she didn't have much time. Travers had released Cara's legs, grabbing her ankles to keep her from kicking as he forced her running pants down her creamy legs. He looked at her red thong and laughed.
"Oh Troy, you little temptress!"
"Stop!" she wailed as he rebound her ankles. "Please. Please!"
"That's right, keep begging," he goaded, his eyes closed as he stroked himself. "Don't stop."
"Please!" she said, still fighting despite the fact that she was obviously exhausted. "I'll give you anything you want!"
He ignored her plea.
"Just so you know," he laughed, watching the tears leak from Cara's eyes as he wrenched down her knickers. "I like it really rough. Rougher than your pansy-arsed husband's capable of, I'm sure."
He was nearly ready when Leolin tore an arm free, rolling over and grabbing her discarded wand. Travers turned in fear, todger still out as Leolin flourished.
"Avada Kadavra."
Travers slumped sideways, dead. Immediately Leolin freed Cara, and she yanked down her shirt and tucked her knees to her chest before resolutely wiping tears.
"You didn't have to do that," she whispered, rocking gently.
Leolin mended her knickers and handed them back.
"Yes I did," she said.
Leolin turned away so Cara could redress, and she tore Travers' shirt open to reveal his naked chest.
"Falconinae adoleret," she said, and she gave grimly satisfied smile as Travers skin sizzled with a raw, angry brand.
It was in the shape of a small bird of prey.
"What is that for?" Cara said meekly, not wanting to look at Travers, who was still hanging shamefully out of his trousers.
Leolin gave her a fierce look.
"The falcon is my patronus," she said sourly. "I want Adrian to know this was me."
Cara flew into Leolin's arms, and Leolin smoothed her hair. They pulled back and Leolin kissed her cheek.
"Now let's go and get Kelly."
Cara nodded, still holding Leolin's hand.
They proceeded more cautiously towards the light, which by now was a mere 20 metres away. They heard voices as they approached, and no more than fifteen deatheaters prowled the parametre, watching the prisoners who were bound in the middle. Some wore mask and some didn't, and Leolin recognised some faces.
Kai Morris, who was no taller than he'd been at Hogwarts, stood eying the captives with distain. Dom Godfrey, who'd been the strapping Hufflepuff quidditch captain, stood with arms crossed and feet apart, looking menacing. Rodger Yaxley and Will Avery were in a whisper conference, and Leolin thought they might be talking about the figure who stood in the middle on a stump, overseeing the entire operation with arms crossed.
Annalysse and Victoria Thivierge were Adrian's lieutenants in London, managing Adrian's bribes and threats and consolidating power for Lucius. However, when it came to Adrian's more covert operations, it was his old friend Tate Rawle that he relied on. Tate had been three years older that Leolin and Adrian, and he'd taken a shine to Adrian in a way he never had to either Draco or Blaise. Leolin was fairly sure that Rawle felt threatened by Draco, and didn't fancy tangling with him. However, he and Adrian had always been of a like mind, and now that Adrian had won some power, Rawle was his natural ally.
Rawle was a handsome bloke upwards of six feet with dark skin and dark eyes, which sparkled with intelligence. Leolin thought it was the high arch of his dark brows that made him look so imperious as it always seemed as if he was peering down in distain. He often wore a tall collar with gave him a further air of intimidation and power. The hem of his leather trench fluttered in the wind, but he seemed unaffected by the cold.
He stood with arms crossed, barking orders as his chocolate eyes swiveled keenly across the assembled crowd. It seemed that they were in the midst of transporting their prisoners, who were mostly important foreign diplomats and political opponents of Lucius's.
"Yaxley, you and Avery take this lot. Five each. Drop them at HQ and report back."
"Sir," Yaxley said in a gravelly voice so much like his fathers.
He hauled Barty Crouch, Ludo Bagman, Reg Cattermole, Dirk Cresswell, and Dilys Derwent to their feet.
In a swirling pop, they were gone.
Avery hauled his group to their feet and disappeared in a similar fashion.
"I don't see Kelly," Cara whispered as they peered into the clearing from the dark safety of the trees.
"I don't either," Leolin breathed. "I don't know if that's good or bad."
The crowd had thinned considerably now, and Deatheaters disappeared as Rawle ordered them away. Soon it was only him and a handful of others. Then, with a swirling pop, a new figure appeared.
Victoria Thivierge looked a lot more intimidating in all black, especially considering her combat boots and the thin knife strapped to her left thigh to match her wand at her right.
"What do you want, Torrii?" Rawle said in a bored voice. "Shouldn't you be sucking Adrian off somewhere?"
"Don't be jealous that I give him the one thing you just can't," she replied in her musical voice.
Leolin could tell from her accent that one of her parents one of her parents must have been Welsh. She hadn't noticed that before.
"And Adrian sent me to supervise."
"Supervise what?" Rawle demanded. "The job's done."
Torrii rolled his eyes at his vitriol.
"I'm his favourite, Tate. Get over it."
"Only because you're his bedwarmer," Rawle snapped.
"Green doesn't suit you," she replied casually. "Has Anna been through yet?"
"Several times. Why?"
"Who did she have with her?"
"I don't know. Loads."
"Anyone of note?"
Rawle shrugged.
"The Scrimgeour kid. Everard III. Gregorivitch."
"No one from Malfoy's inner circle?"
Rawle shrugged.
"I wouldn't say so, no. Why?"
"Anna was meant to snag Lefevre; The minister feels like he's given her too long a leash. The problem is that that slippery bitch was gone. I think she must have been tipped off and left right after the party. Malfoy and his yank were gone as well. Adrian told me if Anna couldn't produce someone suitable that I should punish her."
"I thought punishing people was your wet dream," Rawle sneered.
Torrii shrugged.
"I've slit three throats tonight. It's enough for now."
"Ah, I see! She's your little soft spot," Rawle goaded. "You're worried she'll hate you if you do what you're told."
"She's a much more competent lieutenant that you are," Torrii explained coldly. "And she'd do the same for me."
"Look at you," Rawle taunted, and quick as a flash, Torrii had drawn her wand and sent a stinging jinx at his right hand.
He hissed in pain and flexed his fingers. He was right handed; this would keep him from retaliating until he could tend to it.
"You were saying?" she asked casually.
"Even you aren't getting Blake out of this jam," Rawle said venomously. "Lefevre's long gone."
"I'm not so sure," Thivierge said, and Leolin shrank farther into the shadows. "Macklin said he saw her little fox Chaisson sneaking around the castle not ten minutes ago. Could be he's looking for her."
"More likely she left with Malfoy," Rawle replied. "Did you see him tonight? He wants to fuck her so badly."
Torrii sneered.
"I don't see why everyone thinks she's so fucking beautiful," she snapped.
"Why don't you ask Adrian?" he said saucily as she scowled. "He certainly thinks she is."
Thivierge ignored his comment.
"Those knockers of hers are fake."
Rawle smirked, glancing at Torrii's slender form dispassionately.
"At least she has some."
"Fuck off!"
Tate gave a rich, deep laugh. It was like a jaguar inside a cello.
"I warned Adrian not to fuck a virgin; they get so girlishly attached."
She stung him again, this time on the arm.
"Damnit!" he sneered, clutching his arm. "Stop it."
Torrii wasn't listening.
"What was that?" she demanded, eyes swiveling through the trees. "I heard something."
"I didn't," he drawled. "You're just trying to change the subject."
She sneered at him, the sound forgotten.
However, she had been right. Cara nudged Leolin silently, pointing to shaded figure hiding among the trees across the clearing from them. He was obscured from Rawle and Victoria, but Cara and Leolin could see him rather clearly.
Cara tensed at once. It was Kelly.
He gave her a pleading look, blowing a kiss. She shook her head violently, putting up a hand to indicate he wait before pushing her hand together in a praying gesture. He shook his head, but she repeated it, desperate. Finally he nodded.
Immediately Leolin and Cara began picking their way towards him, careful not to touch a single branch. Luckily the ground was wet, and their trainers were able to whisper across fallen twigs without snapping any. They swung wide around Kelly, and when she was close enough, Cara tugged him deeper into the shadows with them.
They said nothing, but Cara dragged him into a desperate kiss. Kelly didn't know the horror she'd suffered from his sake, but he held her protectively all the same.
"I have to go," he mouthed. "And you two have to let me. If Adrian finds Leolin we'll be fucked. Besides," he said, giving her a sad look. "He won't be kind if he catches you."
He tried to untangle himself from Cara's grasp, but she held him.
"You don't understand," Cara whispered desperately. "Annalysse Blake is our spy, and she's Adrian's right hand; there's no reason that you should go in there. In fact, you only risk exposing her if you do."
"If that's true," he said. "Why didn't Brankovitch say anything before?"
"I think he wanted to," Leolin said. "He and Ren kept trading looks. I think he was just trying to protect Blake. She obviously means a great deal to him."
Kelly shook his head.
"Then I should still go," he protested.
Leolin shook her head.
"She's a seasoned spy. This is much better suited to her."
"This was always a long shot, KT," Cara said desperately. "Please don't make you put yourself in unnecessary danger."
Kelly bent his head and kissed her fiercely.
"You don't understand how much I need you," she said, head on his chest. "Please don't do this."
Kelly traded a look with Leolin.
"She's right, Kel," Leolin agreed. "For once, be a Slytherin and not a Gryffindor. Please."
Finally, Kelly nodded.
"Alright," he agreed reluctantly. "We'll wait for now. But if we decide later I need to do this, you both have to promise me you'll let me go. No arguments."
Cara began to silently cry, pressing her cheek to his chest.
"I love you," she breathed, and he smoothed her hair.
"You too," he agreed. "Now let's get out here."
"We need to get to the next town down," Leolin said. "It should be safe to use our floos there. We will get somewhere unplottable after."
Cara nodded.
"I have a house set up in the highlands. It was my parents'. We'll be safe there."
They nodded, but as soon as they agreed, there were two soft pops behind. They whirled around, and Thivierge's head snapped up.
"Ren," Leolin breathed. "You found a way to apparate? Get us out of here!"
Max was with Felix, and they both looked somber. Felix's breath hung in the chilled air, and there was sadness in his obsidean eyes.
"I'm sorry, bichette," he whispered.
"What—"
He drew his wand and hit Kelly in the chest with a sonic hex. Kelly was pushed off his feet as he flew backwards, landing with a thud and bathing in the glow of the camp. Torrii and Rawle reacted at once.
"Kelly!" Cara screamed, but Max had her in an instant, and they disappeared.
Felix grabbed Leolin's wrists and did the same.
They traveled fro what seemed like forever, and Leolin choked on the thin air and her unshed tears. When they finally began to slow, she began fighting.
They landed heavily in front of a small house, and Leolin punched him in the face.
"You fucking bastard!" she cried, struggling against him as he grabbed her wrists. He was a hell of a lot strong than he looked.
"Leolin," he said frantically. "We're not safe here. We have to get inside. Now."
"Fuck you," she sobbed through snot and tears, still trying to free herself from his grasp. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"
"Please," he begged, looking over his shoulder in panic. "Don't make me drag you."
She finally broke his hold and her, and she drew her wand in a flash.
"I'm going to kill you," she snarled.
He held up his hands, trying to calm her.
"Please, Leolin, please!" he said. "We're only three miles from the stadium, and they're scouring the countryside for us right now. If their charm picks us up, we're dead."
"I don't ca—"
"I'm sorry," he interrupted, stunning her and catching her unconscious form as it sagged to the ground.
When she came to she was lying on a couch and the small but cozy chalet. She sat up slowly, watching Felix as he muttered protective spells, pointing his wand at the ceiling, walls, windows, and doors in turn. She could see her slender yew wand poking out of the back pocket of his dark jeans.
"Give me my wand," she croaked.
He turned, looking guilty.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I can't."
"Why not?" she snarled quietly, getting to her feet. "Give it to me!"
"Do you promise not to apparate out of here if I do?"
He must have dropped the wards, making it impossible to get in and out wandlessly.
"No," she said honestly.
"Then please understand why I can't give you your wand back."
"Give it back to me or I swear I will kill you with my bare hands."
"Leolin—"
She lunged at him and he threw up a protective charm just in time, quickly encasing her in an invisible cage.
"Let me out!" she screamed, pounding on the air like it was glass. "And give me backing my fucking wand!"
"I'm sorry," he croaked. "I can't."
"How could you do this to me?" she demanded, still pounding her fists. "I trusted you; loved you like a brother! How could you betray me like this?"
"I didn't do it to hurt you," he defended. "I would never do that. I love you, too. The last thing I want is to hurt you."
"But you have hurt me!" she said in anguish. "You've broken my heart and my trust."
"I couldn't tell you," he whispered through tears. "I had to do this, Leolin. Please try to understand."
"No," she bit out. "Never."
"I—" he began sorrowfully, but his floo began to smoke and he flicked it open, still eying her with sad eyes.
"Brank!" It was Annalysse. She sounded downright panicked "You and Ren need to get back here now. Adrian's still going off the rails about losing Lefevre. I need you to get back here and stir things up again so I can talk him down. If I don't, he's going to kill Troy."
"We're on our way," came Max's solemn reply, and Felix wordlessly snapped the lighter shut
He then glanced at Leolin, who met his gaze and pounded again, this time harder.
"Give me back my wand, Felix!" she demanded. "I'm going with you!"
He backed away, towards the door. There were tears in his eyes to match the ones on her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he croaked. "I can't."
"You're not leaving me here!" she screamed. "Let me out!"
"You heard what Annalysse said," Felix said. "If Adrian gets his hands on you after everything that's gone on tonight, he'll never let you go again."
"I don't care!" Leolin screamed, voice already going hoarse. "I'm not going to leave Kelly after what you've done. Let me go!"
She was pounding so hard her fists had begun to ache.
"I'm sorry, Leolin," Felix whispered. "I really am."
"If he dies—" she sobbed in warning.
Felix shook his head, the action dislodging several tears. "I won't let him," he said. "I promise."
"Felix!" she cried. "Don't leave me here!"
"I'll be back in later," he said in reply, giving her a final sorrowful look before heading out the door, slamming and locking it behind him. There was a faint pop a second later signaling he'd apparated back. He was gone.
When she was alone, the cage disappated, and she immediately ran to the door, tugging and tugging even knowing it would never budge. However, she kept at it for almost a half hour, not even because he thought it would help, but becaue she was too manc to stop. She was taking short, choppy breathes, and finally the lack of oxygen made her dizzy and she lost her balance collapsing flat onto her back on the worn oak floor.
She lay on there for a long time, too spent to move. Tears were still leaking slowly from her eyes, sliding vertically down her cheekbones towards her her ears before pooling on the floor. She couldn't stop thinking about Kelly the night they'd gone to The Petty Diplomat and she realised, almost painfully, that Draco wasn't the only man on Earth she could fall for. The memory was terribly bittersweet. They'd been so impossibly young then, so innocent, and she allowed herself to imagine for the first time all the ways things could have been different.
Perhaps it was just her grief, her grief at losing Draco yet again and the pain of knowing that she might never see Kelly again, but suddenly she couldn't stop thinking about how different her life would have been if she'd married Kelly instead. If she had, could she have been truly happy with him, knowing Draco still walked the Earth? If she had, would she still have ended up here, powerless to save him from Adrian? It was impossible to know. Still, when she imagined loving someone properly again, being loved by them in return, the tears began anew. Had she married Kelly five years ago, would she be a mum right now, instead of barren and alone? The idea of children wrenched more sobs from her throat, and when she relived the dance and the look in Draco's eyes just before he'd turned his back on her, she felt she might burst. She forced herself to face the reality that tonight she could lose the only two men she could ever love, and she cried so hard that she actually made herself sick.
Anguished and disgusted, she sat up and cleaned the mess wandlessly before lumbering to her feet and trudging to the kitchen. She intended to get something to eat, but when she finally made it to the kitchen, she realised the only thing she really wanted was liquor. After several minutes of searching, she finally found a dusty bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey, and she took a bitter swig. Her stomach was empty now and didn't seem particularly ready for more alcohol, but she took a second drag anyways, and after that the third. She was quickly approaching proper drunkenness again, but far from avoiding it, she drove straight toward it. She wasn't sure how long she sat there allowing the whiskey to numb her senses and dull the ache of it all, but finally she heard the lock clicking from the living room, and she looked to find Max, not Felix, trudging in.
There was a nasty laceration on his forehead and his lip was bloody, and he looked grim and somewhat pale. He trudged in, drawing a flask from his pocket and taking a long drag. Finally he looked up at her, and there was something sad and broken in his gaze.
"Troy's safe," he breathed, leaning heavily on the island in the middle of the kitchen and giving his head wound an exploratory prod before taking another drink. He wasn't as drunk as her, certainly, but he was well on his way.
"What happened?" she said, immediately blinking back tears.
"Annalysse convinced Adrian that it made no sense to kill Troy. She told him it would hurt you more if he turned Kelly against you, and it gave him a better shot at getting to you quicker. Besides, Adrian's not stupid; he knows how badly they need someone in our camp."
He bowed his head, looking uncharacteristically ashamed.
"And everyone else?" she said quietly.
"Ren got out fine, barely a scratch on him. I only got this because I wasn't paying attention. Still, we—" he broke off, taking another swig.
"We what?" she demanded quietly.
"One of my AAO contacts came to help. Jimmy. He was twenty and he—we got jammed up early on and he stepped in front of a sectumsempra from Thivierge. He's dead."
He swallowed, and she didn't offer a retort. After everything that had happened, she didn't have it in her to be cruel about something like that. He nodded then fell silent, and they both took a drink. When he finally looked back at her, his gaze was sad and booze-ridden.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded at last. "Where's Ren?"
He gave her a storm-ridden look.
"He took Cara to her parents."
She shook her head in disgust, and he clenched his jaw.
"He loves you, Lefevre. You're like family to him. I couldn't let your beat down on him just for doing what had to be done."
"You had no right to decide that," she snarled quietly. "Neither of you."
"Troy's safe," he said in response, clearly intent on protecting Felix. "Adrian's already given the order Kelly's not to be harmed any more than absolutely necessary. Thivierge wanted him, but he gave the job to Rawle instead."
"Is that supposed to make me glad?" she asked softly, brow creasing in anguish as she wiped at more tears. "Like Tate will be any less cruel?"
"Yes," Max said, eyes a little pleading now. "You know Rawle is much more reasonable that Thivierge."
"Reasonable?" she demanded more vociferously. "Are you fucking kidding me? Tate helped Tommy Pucey rape an innocent woman. He's just as cruel as Thivierge, and he and Kelly have a grudge going back to school. Do you really think he's going to be any less harsh?"
Max bowed his head.
"We all agreed that this had to be done," he said, half to her and half to himself. "You have to know I never wanted to hurt you. It just—" he paused, trying to collect his booze-soaked justifications."It had to be done. I'm sorry we had to hurt you."
"No," she snarled leaping down from the counter she'd been sitting on and swaying a little. "We agreed to this when Tommy was still alive and we didn't know about Annalysse. You and Brank knew damn well the rest of us would never have agreed to turning Kelly in tonight."
"He won't," Max insisted, trying to reassure her and himself. "Annalysse already—"
"This is Adrian we're talking about!" she sobbed. "We have no guarantees he won't change his mind and kill Kelly! He's still looking for revenge for Tommy, and he's dangerous! You know this isn't over! You know Kelly still might die!"
This realisation was more to herself than to him. Kelly might die. She could lose Kelly forever, and he wasn't even hers to lose. She'd already lost Draco yet again; she couldn't bare to lose Kelly, for her sake and for Cara's.
She was crying harder than ever, choking on the sobs and shaking from the effort.
"What have you done?" she screamed. "Who are you to decide these things? And I might have expected something hideous like this from you, but I hate you for dragging Ren into this."
"I'm sorry," he repeated, disarmed by the booze and the truth in her words. "I know how you feel."
"No," she snarled. "You don't. You have no idea. If our places were reversed, if I'd sold Amelia out, do you expect me to believe you would accept it 'had to be done' and not feel betrayed?"
She's hit a major pain point, and his brows furrowed in anguish.
"That's different," he demanded tightly.
"No," she said. "It isn't! I loved Kelly; I might be in love with him, but I still love him, and you sold him out for your own gain!"
"This wasn't for me!" he defended. "It was for all of us. And have a little faith in him. He can do this, and when we win this war, it's going to be because of what he did for us. For you."
"Stop trying to justify yourself!" she screamed.
"I'm not," he sighed, and by this point he looked close to tears. She could see what she'd said about Amelia had punctured his resolve. "But it's cruel for you to try and say that Troy going to Pucey is like what Amelia suffered. That's unspeakably low.
She took a shuddering breath, mostly because he was right. She could see the pain of his loss, made fresh by her barbs, shining in his eyes. He looked lost and alone, and she realised she knew just how he felt; she was experiencing it now."
She another heaving breath. Even standing ten feet from Max, she'd never felt more alone. She knew he did, too. Her drunken mind was addled, but even in her compromised state she felt like she was going to die from the isolation. She started towards him. She needed to touch him so she knew he was real. So she could save herself from the loneliness before it consumed her.
"Leolin—" he began as she advanced, but it was too late. She slapped him with all her might, and his head snapped painfully to the side.
"You bastard!" she screamed, pounding on his chest. "You fucking bastard!"
"Leolin!" he pleaded, trying to grab her wrists to stop her assault. He was worn down from the earlier fight, and he was drunk as well. "Please!"
"No!" she cried, getting a hand free and slapping him again. "I fucking hate you!"
She began to beat on his chest, trying to dissipate something that had began to resonate between them. It was new and charged and strong, and it made her dizzy. She beat harder, so hard she knew she'd leave bruises. It felt good to let it out, and she couldn't deny that whatever was buzzing between them was quelling the aching loneliness and her manic fear along with it.
"Leolin!" he demanded again. "Stop. Please, stop."
He had her wrists now firmly in his grasp, and strong as he was, the effort of restraining her made his biceps stand out. They were both breathing heavily, and she struggled against him as the emotion swelled and the buzzing grew. She wanted to punish him, to hurt him, to kill him, even, but more than that, she desperately needed not to feel so lost and afraid. She needed something to suppress the gruesome fact that she'd likely lost the only people she could ever love. She tried to hit him again, but he'd finally maintained control. It was here to she finally looked up at him. The alcohol was making him swim in and out of focus, but his gaze was pleading and sincere, and it struck her right at the epicentre of her anguish. Exhausted from struggling and disarmed by the pleading in his obsidian eyes, she stopped moving, studying his face again and the soul she so loved that was shining through his dark gaze.
He was studying her too, searching for her expression for comfort. She fought not to offer him either, but the intoxication was making it impossible to think clearly, and her sorrow was bubbling up again, threatening to consume her, to dragging her down to the cold, crushing deep. She was breathing so hard she felt dizzy again, and she began to grow afraid again. She looked up at him, and he was afraid, too. The loss she felt in that moment, the anger at the unfairness of it all, it was a feeling he'd been harbouring for years, and she could tell he needed a balm as badly as she didn't. Maybe more.
Both extremely unsteady on her feet and desperate for a lifeline, she bowed into him, lower lip trembling. He was breathing hard too, especially as he tentatively released his tight grip to tuck some hair behind her ears.
The tenderness of the gesture inspired more tears.
"Leolin," he breathed.
She shook her head but didn't move. In fact she bent farther into his warmth, eyes slipping closed. Before she could even stop, she pictured the sincerity and fortitude in Kelly's eyes earlier that night. I have to go, and you two have to let me. After Kelly it was Gen. You can no longer offer him the one thing he wants most. I still can. She squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing with abandon. After Gen it was Adrian. Someone needs to teach you a lesson in respect, and I promise you that someday person is going to be me. Finally, as she tucked even closer to Felix, her tears nearly spent, it was Draco's voice she was hearing. I'm sorry. Callie, I—I have to go. Please—don't follow me.
Her head was spinning, every cell drowning in whiskey, but as Draco's words echoed over and over, she tipped her head back to look Max in the eye. There was something inviting and dangerous glinting in his eyes, and reading her expression, he froze, eyes flicking to her lips several times before leaning in. She pulled away at first and neither of them moved, but after she didn't pull any further away, he tried again. This time his lips found hers easily. At first she didn't respond, and he pulled away, breathless as he studied her. However, after a moment, he dove in again without further hesitation.
The kiss was brutal and violent, and he crushed her body to his as he devoured her. She still sought to injure even as they lips mashed together.
Under any other circumstance, his insistence in the face of her opposition would have been assault. However, Leolin's violence wasn't an expression of her desire for him to stop. Just the opposite, fucked up as that was. She needed him as much as he did her. Needed him with such violence that she couldn't be satisfied by another other than a rough and desperate fuck, which was exactly what she knew she would get.
Her lips were swollen as she pulled away, gasping for breath. She slapped him again, his cheek already red. However, he didn't hesitate in his work. He was already shredding her jacket, his teeth grazing her neck as his fingers desperately grabbed her arse.
He was wearing a similar zip-up, and she forced it off his broad shoulders. He was groping at her bra now, and she raised her arms and let him pull it over her head before tearing his shirt off.
She ran her sharp nails down his tanned skin, leaving angry red scratches down his smooth back. He didn't seem to notice. His eyes were on her breasts, and he was panting now. He squeezed them, biting his lip before dropping his lips to sample the soft flesh. She threaded a hand painfully through his hair as he worked, tugging so hard he had to actively resist her to keep working. Her drunkenness was making her extremely dizzy, but she quickly shut her mind off, reveling in the physical pleasure so she could block out her mental pain.
When he pulled back, breathless, both nipples were swollen and tinged a tantalizing rose. His eyes were glassy, and she knew he was drunk as well. There was tears on her cheeks again, but she swiped them away and let herself go numb.
He grabbed her wrist and spun her so she was facing away from him. His teeth raked across the soft skin of her shoulder and he shoved a hand roughly into her spandex. He wasn't delicate about his business. When she was sufficiently wet, he jerked her hips backwards with strong hand, prompting her to grind against him.
She did and he groaned, growing for her at once. She'd forgotten how big he was, and she knew she would be sore the next day. The idea was grimly satisfying. It would be pain to mask the straightened and his strong fingers ghosted across her neck, squeezing gently. She responded by tipping her head back, twining a hand through his thick hair and arching her back. While the right hand tightened around her throat, the left pushed her knickers aside again, touching a spot that made her cry out.
He forced the shorts and knickers down her legs so she was completely naked. He pushed her against the counter again, using his right hand to hold her down. The marble was cold against her bare breasts, and she was slightly breathless from the pressure on her ribcage. Pinning her with his right, his shoved three fingers in and pumped.
Leolin was perhaps the only woman in the world who melted from this kind of attention, and he could feel her tightening around him. It was then that he removed his fingers, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jean. Not bothering to undress any further, he stroked himself from several more seconds before unceremoniously driving into her.
They both groaned.
"Hold onto the edge," he ordered breathlessly. "This marble could shatter one of your hips."
She did what she was told, forcing backward on him roughly as he drove in, making him cried out a little in pain. He grabbed her hips and slamming deep on his next down-stroke. He then set an ambitious pace, the sound of his flesh slapping against filled the kitchen.
"Harder," she croaked, trying to fight down a rushing font of self-loathing. However, the alcohol's effects were reaching their zenith, and buy now the whole running was spinning.
His work beforehand had pushed her close.
"I can't," he grit out, though he didn't slow, and even hooked a hand over her shoulder for better leverage. "You're still so fucking tight. I'm gonna break you in two."
"I don't care," she grit out.
An orgasm, dull and wreathed in guilt, because to swell, and she began gasping as the swell crested. She was crying again, and she so drunk she felt sick. Still, when she saw Draco's face again, his impossibly sad eyes, she gave in and cried out.
"Fuck," he breathed when she clenched around him.
She collapsed more fully against the counter, and the cold marble soothed her flushed her cheek.
"I hate you," she pleaded, still craving his comfort even as she remembered how deeply his betrayal had cut her.
"I don't care," he said, tone pregnant with pain.
However, he'd stopped pumping, and after a moment he pulled out.
"Leolin," he said, voice strained by emotion. Even as he said it, she could sense it wasn't her he was talking to. She'd become someone else to him, and it was her comfort he was seeking, not Leolin's.
He stepped away, clearly at war with himself. She turned slowly, watching him struggle and not knowing quite how she wanted to react. However, after a moment, he advanced on her again, crushing her mouth to his. She fought him again, at war as well, but she felt the loneliness welling up again. When she acquiesced to him, he lifted her easily into his arms, carrying her to the small bedroom as if she weighed nothing. The hiatus had granted her some small amount of clarity, and she thought to pull away. However, when she pictured Draco's face again, she pulled him closer instead.
She could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to atone, to comfort her and be comforted in return, she nodded drunkenly. He touch was gentler now as he eased her back onto her feet, made more languid by his drunkenness, and she gave in to his reverence, heart racing as he devoured her.
"Come here," he prompted, taking her hand, brushing her sweaty hair back, and kissing her gently. He urged her backwards, and when the back of her knees hit the soft bed, she collapsed onto her back. The whole room felt like it was spinning again, and she could barely acknowledge what was happening or what she was feeling beyond his touch. He immediately fell to his knees in front of her, reverently parting her legs and worshipping her with his tongue. She knotted a hand in his hand, urging him on.
His movements were unhurried, and he laved her softly and deliberately, it is was the sort of attention that would result in a long, slow mounting of pressure. Every once in a while he would hit a spot and she would give a breathy intake Finally his movements became more deliberate, and soon she was panting.
"Please" she said ragged, jamming her eyes shut and hating herself for loving this. "Please."
She wasn't even sure what that please meant. Please stop? Don't stop?
Finally she couldn't hold back, and she inhaled sharply as he dragged her off the edge again. She realised there were tears in his eyes, and she was breathing so hard she thought she might start hyperventilating.
"Shh," he murmured softly, surging up to kiss her softly. "Relax."
It was odd to taste herself on his tongue. There was a potion all the girls took to make it taste sweet. It was vain, she knew, but it was surreal to experience to taste the ripe blackberries on her own tongue. She relaxed her tensed muscles, allowing the pleasure of the kiss to wash over her.
He was multi-tasking now, stroking his considerable length with his left as he worshipping her with his right. He was ready soon, and he prepared to enter her, waiting for her permission. She grabbed his neck to give him better access, and he slipped effortlessly into her slick sheath, kissing her breasts as he began to move.
His movements were fluid and graceful, and it was worlds away from their desperate fuck from earlier or the sex they'd had some many months ago in South Carolina. She could feel pleasure stirring at once, and she arched her back. He slipped a hand beneath her, holding the weighted of her torso with a strong hand. She could feel the emotion building up with the pleasure. What was she doing? Did it matter? She was too fucked-up and broken to stop it, even if she could.
She bit her lip to stave off an aching guilt and a rising nausea, and when her lids fluttered open, she met his gaze. However, the eyes that greeted her weren't blue anymore; they were a pure, unmarred silver, almost spanish coins or liquid mercury.
It was amazing how quickly she could slip into fantasy. Then again, the mind of a witch or wizard was richer than that of a Muggle, and frankly capable of greater things. This included visualisation and memory. For a Muggle to slip into this sort of fantasy would be nearly impossible. For a witch like Leolin, it was dangerously easy, particularly when her defenses where hampered by such a large volume of alcohol.
"Callie," Draco breathed raggedly, still supporting her back. "Love of my life."
She grabbed his neck for support.
"I love you."
His undulating strokes increased, hitting a spot on her front wall that was intoxicating.
"Say that again," he commanded.
"I love you," she said. "So much it hurts."
She was breathless from the font of her emotions , and she could feel herself falling away from Draco's spectre as she tumbled headlong into her own pleasure.
Suddenly she was back, and Max was still sliding in an out of her, his thick chest slick with sweat. He had a small tattoo on his left pectoral of a sword clutched by a disembodied hand, crowned by a laurel wreath. She stared at the tattoo, trying to focus on it and not Max's amorous groans. However, it wasn't long before the ink was bleeding down his chest, diverging at his sternum and slithering across the ridges of his abdomen. She queezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the sword was gone, and a phoenix and its companion, a falcon, stood in his place. He'd ceased to be Max entirely
She choked down an anguished sob at his last stroke, which was so deep it was painful, and she gave another half-sobbing inhale as he hit his spot.
Not able to face what she'd just done—the violation she'd just allowed—she willed Draco back, and he came at her call.
"Drake," she croaked. "I love you."
She was giving into the drunkenness now, could feel the alcohol pulling her under, but she held out, desperate to hear him repeat the sentiment one last time, even if it was just in her mind. However, he didn't. Instead he just faded slowly away, his eyes as sad as they'd been that night on the ballroom floor.
When the deed was done, she opened her eyes and somehow it was Max on top of her again, though she could tell as he studied her it wasn't actually her he was seeing.
"I love you too," he croaked to his own spectre. "And I'm sorry."
Leolin squeezed her eyes shut as she felt him slipping down her slick thighs, and unable to bare more, she let go and fell headlong into a whiskey-soaked slumber.