Chapter 2
Skeleton Song
It was late evening when she woke, the rising moon shinning through the open second floor window to bathe the bed in soft light, like liquid silver pooling on the dark sheets. Lauren moved to sit against the headboard, trying to remember the last time she was able to nap through an afternoon as she considered the standing columns of the four-poster bed frame towering over her. She was alone. The shack was silent except for the noise of a television downstairs.
Being welcomed back into Bo's bed had felt like a homecoming. After their weighted conversation earlier, an initially chaste kiss quickly progressed into a holistic embrace, all searching hands and anxious tugging, anything for a more meaningful contact.
Lauren wasn't in a position to refuse, overwhelmed by Bo's decision to insert herself into the hunt for the new Ash, by the hope of freedom, by Bo herself. Next thing she knew, she was being laid back against crimson pillows with no recollection of ever moving from the couch.
Bo loomed over her, stretching slowly, covering her. Her skin was deliciously warm as her body pressed into Lauren. She was surrounded by silken hair and gentle hands.
But the suffocating presence was still there, an invisible force, a cathode ray that burned into Lauren an impression of powerful need, darker and stronger than she ever remembered. She could feel it in the too tight grip, could practically taste it on Bo's lips.
"Wait," she breathed. It was like pulling away from a magnet. Bo stopped, but didn't move.
Her eyes were a steady, dark brown. Whatever this new intensity, she was in control, for the moment. Lauren traced the perfect arch of her eyebrow with a fingertip. "I can't," Her voice broke, making her sound less than certain.
Mostly, she was scared. This new power was alarming. It was ironic, how Bo was the strongest person she knew, where she felt the safest in the world, and yet every time that they were together like this there was always an element of fear. First, fear for Bo's life, then her own, and now for both of their probably short futures.
At least it had been safe to be with Nadia, even if Nadia hadn't been safe. Tears returned in earnest. She wasn't ready to lose someone again.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," Bo rolled off and gathered Lauren to her, the spell broken. Suddenly, all vestiges of the supernatural were gone, and Bo was herself again.
She whispered and soothed for a long time, trailing her fingers through blonde hair. She had sounded relieved.
Kenzi was downstairs, watching a man in a pith helmet talk about elephants, or something. Lauren watched her scratch at her right arm and hiss in frustrated pain.
"I wish you would let me help you," she said by way of announcing herself from the staircase, fully expecting an angry response in light of Bo's decision. Theirs was an intimate friendship, a beautiful connection of independent personalities. Kenzi must have been just as shocked and upset, if not more. She didn't have the personal stake that Lauren did, that tantalizing chance at full agency, autonomy, freedom.
Electric blue highlights flashed in the light of the television as Kenzi turned, startled. "Hey doc," she resumed watching her show. "I told you before, it's nothing. Bo's at the Dál, bee-tee-dubs."
"You're not going?"
"Mama Bear's hunting for a different sort of spirits, if you know what I mean," she said bitingly.
"I see," Lauren smiled even though she couldn't see it. She supposed that went about as well as she could expect, "Good night, Kenzi." She received a distracted wave from over the back of the couch.
"You can't be serious!"
Dyson ran a hand over his face, "It's definitely a succubus kill, Trick."
The Dál was unusually crowded. The heads of several of the old families were present, as well as the Black Thorn. That only meant one thing: the Council had convened. Before the week was out, he would swear allegiance to a new lord. He hated politics. Too much noise, too little space, and not enough alcohol.
Hale straightened his hat, "Listen, no one wants it to be true. Not sayin' that it is Bo," he added quickly at the look Trick shot him across the bar, "We'll cover it up as long as we can."
Lauren decided against returning to the Ash's compound, knowing she would only obsess over the situation. She needed to talk to Trick, desperately. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she zipped her leather jacket and turned toward the Dál Riata. Of all the fae, surely her grandfather could talk Bo out of going through with the hunt, or if not, knew of some way to help her.
She passed Dyson and Hale at the door. They both nodded politely and went on their way, which wasn't so strange, but she noticed that they were both still dressed for work despite the time. A bronze badge flashed visibly from Dyson's hip, and she could make out the bulge of a holster underneath Hale's coat. She watched the pair curiously until they turned a corner, snapping back to herself when she was jostled out of the way by the door swinging open. The exiting fae couple was unapologetic.
Right. She had bigger issues to deal with than Dyson, whatever the case.
The back entrance was her best bet, as Bo was somewhere inside. If she were really lucky, the succubus had already left with her pick of strange fae lover, and Lauren could seek out the barkeep's advice privately, without being intercepted. She couldn't honestly bring herself to hope for it. Jealousy already burned in her stomach at the thought. Knowing that these sorts of rendezvous were vital for a succubus' health and wellness didn't help.
She wasn't alone in the alley behind the building. The outline of two figures in the dark was startling, until she recognized one of them. Bo wasted no time, throwing a young man into the wall near the back door, the impact accompanied by the audible cracking of brick. Lauren winced at such a casual display of superhuman strength. The poor guy would have horrible bruises tomorrow.
Bo leaned in, picking him up and holding him off the ground with one hand, and he moaned as she began to pull from his life essence, drawing sustenance out of desire. Lauren didn't want to watch this.
"That's enough," she heard him struggle to find his voice before Bo's mouth descended a second time. Ducking around the corner, she started back toward the street, feeling sick.
"Stop," the voice was weaker. She couldn't determine whether the next rasp she heard was a gasp of pleasure or a death rattle.
"Bo?" she called softly, turning back. Even from a distance, Lauren could clearly make out the stream of energy, radiating blue wisps of the soul effortlessly called from their living vessel. Bo inhaled, literally stealing his last breath.
"Bo, stop!" Lauren started running, until she was close enough to see the fear in his eyes, even as he reached for Bo. He couldn't help himself.
The body hit the cement with the sick thud of dead weight. Lauren dropped to her knees, frantically pushing away the man's shirt collar to search for a pulse. Nothing. She caught herself preparing for CPR, realizing that it would be no use. "Bo, what have you done?"
She heard the creak of skintight leather as Bo lowered herself next to her. When she looked at her, Lauren was surprised to meet eyes so dark as to appear almost black, without a hint of ethereal blue light. Completely sated, she looked like a goddess, practically glowing in the dim alley. Power emanated from her in waves that made Lauren's heart race.
Without speaking, Bo's fingers closed around one of her wrists, pulling her away, and Lauren felt the surge of heat, a flash of longing so raw it hurt. At the same time, she raised her victim into an upright position by a fistful of hair. Lauren looked on as she bent, breathing life back into him, forcing it through his lungs, rearing back as he coughed and shook with pain, scrambling as far away as the wall allowed.
Before she could examine him, Lauren was being tugged to her feet and led through the back entrance, unable to tear her eyes away from the crumpled heap of a person until Bo closed the door. There was an extra sway to her hips as she rode out the high, her hunger abated. The man outside was fae, young and healthy. Bo shouldn't have been able to drain him, shouldn't have come anywhere close to killing him with only a kiss.
Awe and fear added to the already rapid beat of Lauren heart, but Bo only smiled.
"You look like you could use a drink. Come on."
They were met with open stares in the main room. Lauren recognized several prominent Light fae ambassadors, members of the old families, an Elder nursing his whiskey in a corner, and two Council members, all tracking Bo's progress to the bar.
She followed, feeling small, taking the seat Bo pulled out for her. Trick set down two glasses without having to ask for their order. His smile was forced, whether from dealing with the crowd, or something else, she didn't know.
"I hope your night hasn't been half as terrible as mine," he said, straightening his green vest. Lauren didn't bother to answer, sipping her drink, hoping it would help her shaking hands. Bo surveyed the room silently. Trick looked back and forth between them, and she thought that he didn't look very surprised. "What's happened?"
"Nothing," Bo said cheerily, "Suffice to say, it's going to be an eventful weekend. Who's that?" Lauren followed the direction of her gaze.
The Black Thorn offered Bo a mock salute from the table he shared with a woman Lauren had never met, a rare occurrence. As the Ash's personal physician, she had treated most high-class Light officials at least once over the years.
She looked to be in her late thirties or so, but looks were deceiving among these people. Raven black hair tumbled to her shoulders in a mass of curls, and quicksilver eyes flashed over the rim of a wine glass. An old-fashioned cape, lined with fur, dyed black, draped over her shoulders, the ends clasped together with an odd, ornamental pin in the shape of unfurled silver wings.
"A contender for the Ash's title, and a very powerful one," Trick answered, frowning, "I assumed she was killed long ago."
Bo hummed, not outwardly concerned, "So, what is she? Got a name?"
"She's very old, and no one remembers her true name. Both sides call her, 'Valkyrie,' the only Light necromancer to ever exist. I haven't seen her since the fourteenth century, or rather, since the end of the great war."
"Is that why she is Light fae? She only uses her abilities during war?" Lauren spoke up, her curiosity getting the better of her, "What happened when you wrote the Laws? When the war ended?"
Trick shrugged. "Like I said, I never saw her again until she walked in tonight."
"So, a freaking Norse goddess suddenly shows up after centuries and wants to be the Ash?" For the first time, Lauren saw Bo's confidence waver, but only slightly.
He shook his head. "Not a goddess. Another fae that deals with fate. You've met her sister."
Bo tilted her head to one side, confused, "Who?"
"The Norn."
Hello again. The response to chapter 1 was generally good, and I decided to extend the story from a one-shot. If you like it, and would like me to continue, let me know. I appreciate any and all feedback, both positive and negative. Thanks for reading.