Chapter 12

Isabeau slunk past Dolph, her fingers hovering tantalizingly over his bare, thickly muscled arm and her bottom lip held seductively between her teeth. The enormous Fae stared down at her through hooded eyes, his face leaned lower to meet hers, but he didn't move otherwise. Isabeau had been flirting and teasing him, Duncan and Inari since she'd woken them from their death-sleep, but no matter how they ached to be taken by her, they were obedient to Isabeau's every whim and wish and enduring to the end. She gave the Bear a smoldering look before inching past, and allowed her chest to just brush his before tossing her hair over her shoulder and sauntering past him into her father's study.

The Bear released a tense, trembling breath in her wake, but stood firm in the doorway. Inari squeezed in past him before he turned in the threshold, effectively blocking it from any other intruders. Duncan loitered in the hallway, a little put-out at having not been invited inside but utterly exultant in his unswerving love and loyalty for the Succubus that teased him with cocked eyebrows and blushing red lips.

Isabeau's smile lingered as her eyes settled on the sturdy, powerful figure that leaned back in his seat. Jack O'Meara gave his daughter a searching, calculating look as she settled herself easily into one of his plush leather chairs. Inari perched herself on its arm and draped her hand over Isabeau's shoulder. Her delicate, pale fingers toyed distractedly with the heavy brown locks that cascaded over them.

"Did you raise them all?" O'Meara's brown eyes glinted in the dim gas-lamp lighting of his office. After the day's passionately excited events, the old Fomor preferred to retire to the calm dignity of his study, and chose to light it with the romance that only a small flame could give. Shadows flickered across the walls, and the faint fragrance of sandalwood drifted aimlessly in the air.

Isabeau raised an eyebrow at her father. She had chosen to only raise the three that trailed after her, like lovelorn puppies. The others she considered a satisfying, if not wholly appetizing, meal. The Redcaps under Duncan's chaotic rule had tasted mostly like stale potato chips: salty, bitter, and totally empty. But power was power, and after draining nearly half a dozen of them, she felt the indistinct, though potent, rush of sexual vitality pulse through her, warm and close and heady. It made her skin hum, and her nerve endings buzz and crackle with sweet wanton lust.

Isabeau had never felt so good, so free, in her short life. And she hadn't even fed off any particularly powerful or delicious Fae yet.

"No," she answered, her attention wandering to the Kitsune whose silken legs pressed against her own, whose fingertips drew tight, sensual circles into the nape of her neck and whose breath, still sweet with the flavor of her own Chi lingering on her tongue, drifted hot and wet against the shell of her ear.

A smirk curled the corner of the Succubus' lip. Perhaps she'd take a little back from her sweet, doting Inari…

"Isabeau…" Jack drew her name out with a long, exasperated sigh. He tapped the edge of his desk compulsively, the edges of the newspaper he'd spread out over it crackling underneath his rigid staccato jab. "You know I only ask you to do this in order to build a line of defense against those who would oppose us," he frowned sternly over the bridge of his nose. He was proud of the woman his daughter had become, prouder of the Succubus that had broken free of that woman with just the right amount of prodding.

But he was still her father, and expected his wishes to be respected and obeyed.

Isabeau licked her lips, and raised her hand to walk her fingers suggestively up Inari's spine. The Kitsune stiffened under her touch, her breath held in anticipation, before Isabeau dragged her nails back down, her fingers catching in the thin fabric of Inari's shirt and drawing a sharp, low pant of arousal from the red-head poised halfway in her lap.

"Humor me, my dear. Bring the Redcaps back. There will be ample opportunities to feed your insatiable appetites after our plans have come to fruition," his tone was gentle, but uncompromising. Jack smiled indulgently at his daughter, who teased Inari's mouth with the close proximity of her own.

Isabeau flattened her hand on the small of Inari's back, it wandered around to cup the curve of her waist. Her thumb slipped under the hem of the Kitsune's top and rubbed the exposed flesh absently. Her tongue darted out between her lips, just shy of Inari's, held breathlessly close to her own, and dragged to the corner of Isabeau's growing coquettish smile; and she watched through bedroom eyes at the effect her warm breath on Inari's mouth had on the shuddering, blushing Kitsune.

She turned her face from Inari's sharply to glare balefully at her father. There were other Redcaps. Isabeau had seen them wandering the halls of her father's sprawling estate, aimless and vulgar. Still, Isabeau could play along, at least until she really got bored, and it would be such fun taking those Redcaps that still lived as her own loyal, unswerving, adoring Thralls. Inari boldly pressed a soft, wet kiss to the velvety skin just below Isabeau's ear; she could feel the Kitsune's accelerated heart rate throb excitedly beneath her lips. She could feel the arousal that pooled between Inari's legs flush the Kitsune's skin and spread its warmth to the pad of her thumb, pressed provocatively against the crease between her hip and thigh. The glare faded from her features, making way for the sly, seductive smile that curled sensuously across her voluptuous lips.

With her free hand, she imitated a lazy salute at Jack O'Meara, her mouth pursing into a playful pout. Carefully, she disentangled herself from the Kitsune whose fingers twisted into her hair and whose mouth trailed hot, sloppy kisses along her jaw and neck, and stood. Inari whined in disappointment, but was quickly placated by the suggestive wink Isabeau gave her. The Kitsune's body shivered in expectation, a low, excited gleam smoldering in her dark green eyes, and stood beside her Mistress.

Isabeau grinned over her shoulder at the Fomor that watched her expectantly from his mahogany desk.

"As you desire, Father."

It was late by the time Dyson returned to the Dal, Lauren's heavy steel briefcase in hand and Cassie the Oracle trotting at his heels. He rolled his eyes and shoved the heavy door open, gesturing with his free hand for the petite girl to go in ahead, though he might not have bothered as she shoved her way past him anyway, chattering incessantly and squealing excitedly at her friend over the phone.

Irritation flared in the Wolf for an instant. Cassie had kept him waiting for her outside Mayer's Chinese restaurant for close to twenty minutes, and hadn't even bothered with a greeting or apology when she'd finally hopped into the truck. She was already babbling animatedly into her phone, and hadn't even stopped for air on the drive over. The subtle prodding of the start of a massive headache writhed at the base of his skull. He swallowed down his anger and pushed on through the door after her.

A single, scorching glare from the Morrigan at Cassie brought silence to the high-pitched, staccato conversation. The Oracle mumbled something about calling back into the receiver before hastily flipping it shut and stuffing it into her pocket.

"What up, homies?!" Cassie's mouth split into a painfully cheerful grin, her voice grating on the Wolf's ears, though he was grateful for the short reprieve Evony's glare had given him.

Dyson settled the steel briefcase on the smooth, shiny surface of the bar in front of Trick. The bartender gave him a sympathetic look before settling his hands on the case and pulling it closer to him.

"Right. Cassie, Vex, and Maia, my taproom is at your disposal. The rest of you, first round's on the house," the Blood King started pulling tankards off the shelf and filling them with beer as Tamsin and Hale collected around Dyson. Tamsin watched her human follow after the Mesmer and the Oracle and disappear through the door that led to the keg room, body tense and rigid with discomfort and distrust. Maia had never trusted the Mesmer to begin with, and the close brush with the Morrigan less than an hour ago would have done nothing to allay any sense of impending danger she might have felt at being alone with one of Evony's most loyal subjects and a Mesmer who still seemed to ache to be back in the Morrigan's good graces. But once again, she brushed her anxieties aside to do as her conscience demanded of her. Tamsin's mouth twisted to conceal the satisfaction it gave her and rationalized that if Maia was to be her pet, she may as well feel some sense of pride in her. Like humans did with a particularly clever dog or cat.

"Well. Now I'm just bored," The Morrigan looked over the group clustered around Trick and the drinks he poured for them, a look of utter distaste twisting her lip and darkening her expression. She stepped away from the bar and snapped her fingers, ushering in the guards that had been standing patiently, silently, just outside the Dal's door.

"I'm surprised you managed to stay this long," Trick snorted derisively and cocked an annoyed eyebrow at the leader of the Dark Fae. He didn't trust her, and his distrust went so far as to feel uncomfortable with the cruel-hearted brunette's involvement in their plans. If her clan hadn't been so directly involved, he would have risked Evony's ire and demanded she leave. He already had, the moment she stepped through the door, but Cassie and Tamsin's involvement, and by extension, Maia's, had given her the right to remain as long as she felt the need. Still, the sooner she left, the better for them all. It was doubtful the Morrigan would offer any more in the way of help, and even if she did, Trick would not have been inclined to accept it.

"Not more surprised than I am, I assure you," the leader of the Dark Fae spared a scathing glare for the keeper of the way station before dropping his gaze disinterestedly. "This time, detective," Evony turned away to direct a sharp stare at Tamsin, "keep me apprised of everything that happens. I will not be amused if you disobey my orders… again." The warning in Evony's tone was entirely unmistakable, even hidden underneath the layers of nonchalance and the casual smile that played across her soft, red lips.

Tamsin only nodded once, and the Morrigan strode to the door, her heels clicking loudly over the hardwood floors. The pair of heavily muscled bodyguards glowered at Tamsin, and one raised an umbrella just outside the threshold. Evony slipped between them and disappeared under it into the thick, cold night outside, and the door thudded closed. Hale, Trick and Dyson all breathed heavy sighs of relief at her exit, and single-mindedly, they all returned to the task at hand.

Lauren's gentle, precise fingers prodded the shallow wound at the back of her head. A flinch marred her features as pain peppered the circumference of the injury, like little needles piercing the bruised, tender flesh that throbbed painfully beneath the heavy matting of her mussed blond hair.

Her concussion had finally passed. She eyed the small pool of vomit she'd expelled a short time ago, disgust curling her features, though she could hardly smell its pungent odor. The rich bouquet of blood, death and disease overpowered it easily, and she'd grown accustomed to the offensive smells some time ago.

Still, she withdrew from the puddle of sick, and pulled her hand away from the back of her skull. Her blood was dry and caked, and had come away a thick, coppery ooze on her fingers, dusty and flaky and sticky against her skin. Her head felt clearer, though it rang painfully. Her eyes could focus now, and the dull flickering of the torches in their sconces no longer made her dizzy and nauseous. Absently, she wondered whether Maia had heard the rushed instructions she'd given her, what she and Dyson and Tamsin must be doing now. She wondered where Kenzi was, if the petite, spirited woman was okay. Would Hale help the others with the rescue mission, now that he was the Ash and needed to do his utmost to keep safe and protect the precarious peace between the clans? Or would he rush in to the defense of his property, his Ward?

Lauren knew she needed to bide her time, but time seemed to pass so slowly in this dank, underground stone prison. All she could do was chip away at Bo's consciousness whenever the overpowered Succubus came down to stare in silence at her – she'd done so twice already since Maia, Tamsin and Dyson had left, even with her father and her little Fae groupies to distract her. Lauren considered the cold, distracted attentions a small, personal victory.

The sound of footfalls, varied in weight but in perfect synchrony, tore the doctor from her self-reflections. Among the heavy beats of Dolph's and Duncan's feet and the lighter, pattering skips of Inari's, Lauren could still discern Bo's graceful, perfectly measured steps. If the tramping boots of a whole army were to drown out the sound of Bo's feet, Lauren knew she would still recognize her lover's distinct footsteps. She clambered close to the bars and pulled herself up, her face close to the cold iron and her eyes squinting to distinguish the shadowed shapes that sharpened as they drew nearer.

Bo's intense blue eyes were the first to gain form, gleaming coldly through the darkness. Lauren drew in a sharp, anxious breath at the sight of them, her throat bobbed with the sob that still fought to choke through, and her lips tightened and quivered, the corners drawing down tightly, though she struggled against it. This time would not be like the others. When Bo came down alone, Lauren knew she had the freedom to sit or pace, to whisper or talk to the blue-eyed creature that only stared back in a haze of arousal, confusion and distaste. When Bo came down alone, Lauren knew she was slowly getting through the Super-Succubus to the woman that lay dormant inside, and there was hope that Lauren could bring Bo back to herself.

But for her whole posse to come down with her… This time, Bo came down to perform a specific task. Lauren couldn't fathom how her Thralls might react to the quiet, insistent reminiscence Lauren kept up in hopes that Bo would remember. She couldn't guess how safe she was, even with Bo's protective, possessive instincts that had kept her alive so far.

"Bo," her voice came out mangled with the cry that clogged her throat, she ached to reach her arms out and to feel Bo's hands grasp them gently, reassuringly, with a smile and a kiss and a promise that everything was going to be just fine. Her chest tightened with the pressure of that dear, crushing need.

Inari's slender form crashed into the bars Lauren stood in front of, sending the doctor reeling backward and stumbling to fall onto her bruised backside. In an effort to break her fall, Lauren threw her hands back, and she cried out against the hot pain that scraped into her palms. They throbbed with the bruise that flowered across them, and bright, bitter red droplets of blood welled against the thin, shallow lacerations that streaked them.

The Kitsune snarled viciously at her, her body still pressed against the bars of Lauren's cage, her face lit with ugly hatred, until Bo's smooth, elegant hand reached out to cup the red-head's shoulder tenderly.

"Leave her alone," Isabeau's tone was soft and gentle, but brooked no argument. With a last, furious twitch of her lips, Inari backed away slowly from the bars, her rich emerald eyes never leaving Lauren's wide, terrified ones.

Lauren's breath was ragged with fear and emotion. Her gaze flitted to Bo immediately, imploring and hopeful, sparkling with the fresh tears that rose unbidden, and she scrambled back to her feet.

"Bo, please!" her voice rang against the rough walls that surrounded her. She didn't dare step closer, but her hands clasped before her, praying for the Succubus to hear her, "This isn't you! Bo, listen to me!" A silent sob shook her shoulders, the force of her fear and anguish tearing her apart, almost as physically as it did emotionally. "I'm right here. Come back to me, honey," her words descended into a dry, ragged whisper, her eyes squeezed shut in utter futility, the tears that had gathered in her eyes were swept by her lashes, absorbed by them so that they spread and tickled the corners of her face. When she opened her eyes again, her sight was blurred by their heavy density. If only Bo would remember, would recognize the love and intimacy they shared together, the things that had made her human. Lauren ached to bring her back to the woman that had wanted the freedom to choose a normal life: the house, the picket fence, the children, the loving significant other. If only she could get out of this damn prison, if only she could just touch Bo, hold her in her arms, she knew she could bring Bo back to herself.

But Isabeau seemed to know that too.

Isabeau regarded the human that begged with a mixture of cold suspicion, keen interest and a strange, powerful arousal. Her intense blue eyes hooded with the warm sensation of desire that spread through her. Since her 'awakening', it was a sensation that always lingered in the back of her mind, that gathered at her fingertips with every touch, that pooled at her center like a thirst she could never slake. A hunger she would never want to completely fill. A sensual smile curled her lips, the smile of a cat that toyed with a mouse, and her fingers slid from Inari's shoulder, wound around her slender waist and dipped into the Kitsune's pocket.

Lauren could see even through her distorted vision that her entreaties fell upon deaf ears. Isabeau had come down here for a specific purpose, and this time, it was Lauren that was the unwanted distraction.

"Leave her alone," Isabeau drawled carelessly, her voice husky and seductive, "but if she moves or makes a sound…" her voice trailed off as she leaned in close to the Bear that stood close behind her, her lips hovering beside his bent ear and her breath hot and moist against its crooked shell, "…kill her."

Wide, malevolent grins spread gleefully across Dolph's, Duncan's and Inari's faces. They knew Lauren as their competition, and that was an order they would be glad to carry out. Duncan pursed his lips briefly to blow a silent, cruelly sarcastic kiss in Lauren's direction. Isabeau's chin dipped, her mouth curved into a seductive, teasing smile, and her eyes danced over Lauren's shaking, unkempt form. She took a slow, languorous step back, her hand pulling out of Inari's pocket and her fingers tugging briefly, playfully at its edge, before she dropped her hand to her side, turned and strode deeper into the dungeon.

Lauren watched, silent with terror, her face wet with the tears she could no longer contain, as Bo dropped to the floor in front of the mass of Redcap bodies that lay tangled just outside her cell. The Succubus' mesmerizing cerulean eyes scanned the corpses quickly before she opened her lips and breathed out a pale ribbon of pink light. It's thin, faded coils were distinctly different than the steady, warm glow of Chi she'd breathed back into her first Thralls, but the bodies that lay before her twitched and shuddered all the same.

Their eyes, when they opened, were dull and stupid, and Isabeau reluctantly thickened the river of sexual energy, and breathed their new, mindlessly devoted lives back into them almost as wholly as they'd been before.

It had taken most of what was left of the night for Cassie to discover the exact whereabouts of the missing goth-lolita and pinpoint it onto a map, and for Tamsin, Trick, Dyson and Hale to work out a plan for her rescue and Bo's recovery. It was a rough, rudimentary plan, and relied heavily on Kenzi and Lauren's ability to calm Bo enough to get within arm's reach and deliver the injection to the crazed Succubus, as well as on Tamsin's, Dyson's and Hale's own prowess to hold off and distract any of the Fae that might try to interfere. There was a lot being left up to chance, but there was little choice and less time to come up with anything better.

There were only a few hours left until dawn when they finally split up and went home to try to get a little rest before they put that plan into action. Tamsin pulled out a blanket and pillow from the hall closet for Maia to use. Maia watched the Valkyrie closely, the curiosity in her unbruised eye nearing suspicion, despite their short, quiet conversation at the Dal, when they'd been waiting for Cassie's arrival.

Maia and Dyson had both been very vocal about going after Kenzi right away. Hale seemed to almost agree, but in the end, had insisted with Trick and Tamsin that it would be safer for everyone involved if they waited until morning. Maia, Tamsin and Dyson were still recovering from the grueling events of the day, and it was almost certain that Bo would have revived Dolph, the Redcaps, and the Kitsune that had masqueraded as Kenzi. They couldn't be certain that the real Kenzi wasn't being watched closely, and if they came in to get her too soon, they might tip their own hand.

It had been difficult to convince the human and Wolf that waiting, while difficult, was the better option. They were raring to go, and it was only because going in too soon lowered their chances of success that Maia and Dyson finally surrendered.

"Why do you care?" Maia finally asked, her uninjured eye focused on the Valkyrie that struggled to contain a large, heavy blanket and a pillow in her arms. Tamsin turned her attention to Maia sharply, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"Care about what?"

"About helping them. Helping Bo, Lauren and Kenzi. It's been perfectly clear that you and they aren't exactly on the friendliest terms."

Tamsin considered this for a moment, finally succeeding with the bundle in her arms and carrying it over to the couch, where Maia sat, watching her with a guarded expression firmly in place. She tossed the make-shift bedclothes onto the couch beside the human, then knelt down in front of her, head tilted to the side in contemplation.

"Why do you?" her voice was soft, her faded green eyes searched Maia's, though Maia couldn't fathom what they might be searching for. Maia's brow furrowed, she thought it must be obvious, and it didn't escape her notice that Tamsin hadn't answered her question.

"This all happened because of me. What kind of a person would I be if I just let them deal with the consequences of my own cowardice and selfish actions alone?" Maybe if Maia hadn't gone home that night, if she'd stayed at the clubhouse with Kenzi, things would have been different. Kenzi might not have been kidnapped, Lauren might not have been left alone to get kidnapped as well. Maybe if Maia had just been brave enough to go straight to the Morrigan with Seth's kidnap in the first place, maybe if she hadn't just hidden in the closet like a coward when the Redcaps had come the first time…

"Yeah," Tamsin's quietly uttered agreement tore Maia from her guilty introspections and brought her attention back to the green-eyed Valkyrie that still knelt before her. "I get that," Tamsin pulled Maia's hand into her own, a gesture that somehow surprised the blonde almost as much as it did the human poised tensely before her, "but you did what you felt you had to do, to keep yourself safe and bring Seth home. You couldn't have known that O'Meara was after Bo, not Seth. Hindsight is always 20/20, Maia."

Maia sighed and nodded. She knew Tamsin was right. But it was also exactly the reason it mattered so much that she do everything she can to help the people that had done so much to help her. A light, gentle touch to her bruised eye brought Maia out of her reverie, and a wry smile twisted her lip at the easy way in which Tamsin had deflected her original question.

"You still haven't told me why you care," Maia tugged at the hand that still held hers and pushed away the fluttering fingers that examined her eye with the other.

"That looks better than it did this morning," Tamsin chirped, her voice sounding false even to her own ears. She was hedging, quite badly. Her unwillingness to lay bare her soul was part habit, part survival instinct, and she couldn't help refusing to meet Maia's eyes.

"Tamsin."

Tamsin puffed out a breath, exasperated by the nosy human's insistence to understand her every motive. Maia's fingers wrapped around her own were warm and oddly comforting. Tamsin generally didn't like to be touched. To her, it usually felt invasive, sometimes demanding, even on a few occasions had left her feeling claustrophobic. But Maia's touch only seemed to convey understanding and support. She met Maia's earnest stare with weary, tired eyes.

"Because the reason you do is a noble one," her answer was honest, if not complete. For now, Maia supposed it would have to do, because Tamsin pulled her hand out of Maia's and stood, fingers brushing through long, silken hair and her eyes hooded with exhaustion.

"Get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow," she picked her way around Maia's legs and walked across the living room to the threshold of her bedroom. Tamsin was spent, it had been a long, strange day for her, and she was eager for not only this day, but the whole adventure, to be over. She regarded the human she had claimed with narrowed eyes, entirely uncertain about where they stood, feeling almost regretful for the way she had claimed her from the Morrigan, when an end to the tough creature would have been so much easier. The Morrigan would be out for her blood, now. She'd crossed the leader of the Dark Fae, had even humiliated her in front of Trick and Dyson, had undermined her at almost every juncture. She should have just let the Morrigan have her plaything and cut herself a little slack.

But that would never have sat well with the ancient, battle-scarred, resilient Valkyrie. She had promised Seth she would look out for Maia. And she had to admit she rather liked the lean, tough little tomboy. This was Tamsin's chance – one she hadn't taken or been given in such a long time – to not be alone anymore.

If she didn't screw things up. If she didn't get Maia killed and have to send her away, whether to Valhalla or anyplace else.

Besides, Tamsin had always loved a challenge.

Maia sighed and pulled her glasses off, wincing at the painful way they scraped against her bruised face, and tossed them onto the scuffed wooden coffee table in front of her.

"I don't know if I can sleep. I'm too wired," she dropped her head into her hands, fingers digging into her scalp and getting lost in the wild curls of her auburn hair.

"Try," Tamsin spared a glance at the beat up old clock that hung on the bare wall of her apartment. There were a scant two hours until dawn, less than that before they'd be rising again, to meet Vex, Hale and Dyson at the Dal. Then she disappeared into the comforting darkness of her room and shut the door behind her.