The Thing in the Pit

[deacon]

The morning storm had left late afternoon damp and renewed. The crystalline sheen reflected a lazy sun that peeked out only once in a while from behind the gauzy white clouds. It was almost Spring. The season was so close the dragon could smell it on the wind and made it warm enough that instead of stuffing themselves into a vehicle where Deacon couldn’t have his hands all over his mate or give her all of his attention, they’d decided to walk the way to Lani’s establishment. The dragon inhaled and smelled only clean; dark memories and bad dreams had been washed away by those tears from heaven, and puddles under their feet were brilliant with reflections of mouthy embraces and chaste touches.
The shifter was holding his mate’s hand and she was at am arms length, driving him insane by stretching away from him as far as she could while peering in the passing windows. His severe cobalt gaze drank in her form and when he inhaled his time, he drank in the lingering smell of her on his skin. Of him on hers. The bonding scent which was released during ultimate closeness marked the pair like the wedding rings they had yet to bear. Their union went much deeper than words or trinkets; it was soul deep. Eternal.

Deacon loosed a snarl from his lips and pulled Lillie into his side, wrapping the arm around her hips in order to keep her there. For the moment he ignored the main reason for their trip to the Pit in order to bask in the glow of his pregnant woman. She was as the sun; the female warmed his skin and seeped into his core. She was his light, his strength, his very purpose.

“Come closer so that I might thieve some of your fortitude.” Deacon rumbled and ducked his head into the crook of her neck as they continued to glide forward over the moist sidewalk. “The closer we come to the Pit, the more my resolve crumbles. The thought of Lani’s new hair color and her sense of humor have my knees fairly trembling.” He smirked and the expression looked altogether out of place on the stalwart dragon. Of course, he was kidding about being terrified of the feisty and very eccentric psychic Lady Moonblood. Besides Lillie, Lani was one of the only humans that existed that the ancient shifter cared for enough to call a friend. She had saved his life by taking him in after an attack by the Sorceress and an ally in downtown New Orleans, and had it not been for her purchase of a certain painting that hung in her bar; the dragon and the flower may not have reunited when they had.
As their love was fated they would have eventually come back together after centuries apart, but the depiction of Deacon in his beastial form hung in The Pit had formed the beginning of a relationship -this- decade that would span the ages.

A sudden cloud darkened his radiant azure stare. Thoughts of the sorceress, the dream that Lillie had mentioned earlier, and the child growing in their womb threatened to overwhelm him. What new information could Lani have to offer? Did it pertain to the terrifying nightly vision his prophet had foreseen?
Deacon tightened the arm snaked around Lillie’s waist and slowed their pace. The longer he could stall this serene moment the better.

Stopping altogether the shifter used the arm wound around her to twist his female in his arms, bending his mouth over hers and marking her lips with a kiss that spoke his worries. Oh, the dragon’s ever vexed head. It was always, and would always be so.

[lillie]

”Ah my gah, look at that color! It’s so blue and pretty…no, Lillie, fortitude. You have no money to spare on…shoes! Ooh, the new Jimmy Choo’s! Oh, the sparkliness…”

Oblivious to her mate’s desire to keep her close, she was indeed having a grand old time peeing into various shop windows as they made their way to the Pit. She would have driven him or taken a cab, but the dragon’s expression of longing when he glanced out the front window was a testament to his need for nature, and she easily gave in to the request of a walk. Her feet were going to be quite annoyed with her, at some point, but to see that happy light in Deacon’s eyes? It was worth any price.

Swinging their clasped hands playfully, the prophet allowed herself to be tugged along. The sun was warm, there were smiling faces all around her and, most importantly of all, there was no witch in sight! Sure, they were headed toward the fountain of information regarding their current ‘problem,’ but…gah, she just couldn’t help but fall into her eternal optimism. Ilani had said that she had information on the bitch who’d tortured her husband…maybe she meant that the woman was nowhere to be found. Maybe Carlotta had dropped off the face of the earth, and they could finally enjoy a life of peace and happiness.

She bit back a sigh as she returned to Deacon’s side, hugging his arm against her chest. Yeah, and pigs would wear those neat Jimmy Choo’s instead of her.

The familiar snarl beside her forced her mind from such dark thoughts, and she smiled up at the handsome face of her man. God, but he was beautiful; all dark angles and chilseled features. There really wasn’t any wonder that the few paintings of him that she’d put up for sale in the past had sold like hotcakes. There was just something so darn hypnotizing about him. There was a strength in the clenching of his jaw, a stalwartness in the way he held himself…but there was also vulnerability there, lurking in the back of his eyes.

Laughing at his ‘admission’ of anxiety at seeing her rambunctious friend, she just shook her head and gave the side of his head a kiss, She wanted to see him smile more; she’d do anything to see lightness in his expression, rather than worry. A deep, hot anger entered her chest then, as she brooded on the reason for that darkness. Tilting her head up, she wound her arms around his neck and fell into his embrace; melting against him so perfectly that her breath caught in her throat. She fit against him like the right piece of a puzzle and his nearness made her think of innocent laughter and sunshine.

Of a father finally being able to see his daughter grow. Of him chasing her around their yard, and glaring at potential suitors who showed up at their door. Would she be like her father; the baby now sleeping in her womb? Would she have his laugh, his quirky smile, his temper? She deepened the kiss, fueled by the love she had for her family and wished that the moment would never end.

But, of course, it did. And quite suddenly, she thought with a little grumble.

”Thank God that I lied and said I didn’t know what you two were doing today,” Ilani’s voice sounded from beside him, amusement lacing it. ”If Pat would’ve seen you necking out here like a bunch of teenagers, he’d have had a stroke.”

Pulling back from Deacon with a little roll of her eyes, Lillie eyed her friend. Today, the bar owner had chosen an array of Goth clothing that resembled a slinky corset and her hair glowed bright orange in the remaining afternoon sunlight. Her arms crossed over her chest, the DeVoux matriarch was obviously trying not to smile, and with a little shake of her head, she turned on her heel and headed for the bar, talking to the air beside her.

”God, Cash, next time warn me that they’re outside making out! I thought when you said ‘they’re in the alleyway,’ something was wrong! You suck as a lookout, you know. Seriously, next time you scare me like that, I’m gonna exorcise you to Kingdom Come.”

Shaking her head, she cast a wry look at her mate before following the psychic into the bar. It was empty for the moment; the regular crowds favoring the dead of night to late afternoon. Sliding behind the bar, Ilani eyed them with amusement, then started wiping the dirty glasses lined up on the bar.

”So, tell us about what you found out,” Reluctantly, Lillie managed to detach herself from Deacon’s side and slid onto an empty booth. Glancing at her mate, she reached out and curled her fingers around his hand.

Ilani just ducked her head and hid a smile. Deacon thought that she might be responsible for reuniting the two lovebirds? Well, the bar owner knew it, and debated using her newfound matchmaking powers to do the same for her children. Putting her glass down, she leaned forward on the bar and looked up at the dragon shifter.

”Well, what I do know is that your little friend is one freaky little woman,” She said, glancing over at a mannequin set to the side of the bar; Cash’s favorite toy. It started to move as the ghost slid into it and turned its eyeless face from Lillie to Deacon and gave them both a little wave. ”I did some digging into her life and had my boys fan out to find her. We didn’t manage to find her…but we have found out what she’s been doing for the past few weeks. There have been a bunch of children going missing and from what their ghosts have said…Carlotta’s been building up her powers using their…um…bodies.”

Normally, nothing phased the psychic, but the sight of those small, mutilated bodies…she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest. ”Whatever she’s doing; it’s some kind of really bad mojo. And truthfully…I’m thinking that you’re not her only target now, Deacon.”

[/blockquote]

[deacon]

To the shifter, there was nothing but his woman. The taste of her lips was ambrosia; a stimulant that shot straight to his head and all other parts of his body. The man had no etiquette when it came to public displays of affection, he didn’t care if touching her like that or kissing her as if they were both alone and unclothed there against the red brick of the building was taboo or wrong; he was insatiable. A beast. A dragon.
Luckily, he was fairly tame for an ancient storybook monster; the sound of Ilani’s voice behind them drew a low growl from his throat and kindled an aggravated fire in his cobalt eyes instead of prompting him to throw a ball of flame at her.

Too bad. It would have matched the orange color of her hair.
Deacon arched an eyebrow at the feisty psychic and made his displeasure apparent with the fall of his lips. He wasn’t quite sure what all of her prattling was about, but the name of Lillie’s older brother shed a ray of light on the mystery that was her human idioms.
Still, the shifter let his disgruntled gaze drift to the glowing face of his mate, and the corners of his mouth couldn’t stay down-turned for very long. His flower loved the eccentric woman, and well, the dragon…didn’t really want to roast her. At the moment.

He couldn’t see the ghost Lani was addressing as she stormed back into the bar but he could sense him, and Deacon shook his head at the way the firecracker spoke to the specter. She had more balls than the World Series; at least that’s what Pat had said about her on more than one occasion, and not always for her spunky mouth. Today’s attire was a testament to that.

Inside the empty establishment, the ancient shifter followed closely behind the two women; coming to rest beside his seated female. He squeezed the hand that clung to his, brought it to his lips and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before pressing a kiss against her delicate knuckles.
A knot had formed in his chest by now; the purpose of this visit returning to the forefront of his thoughts once more. And as if his woman could read his mind, Lillie wasted no time inquiring about said purpose. Deacon drew in a deep breath and held it in; the hand not entertained with the Flower’s clenched tightly at his thigh. A warmth begun to spread from his palm until it consumed his hand in red; the fire inside him stirred to the point of near release; if not from his fingertips, than from the back of this throat. It bubbled there now like bile from his stomach.

The fire was momentarily distracted when Deacon followed Lani’s gaze to a tailor's dummy sat at the end of the bar; narrowing his eyes in bewilderment when the thing looked and then waved at them. Ghosts. He would never understand their brand of humor.

The distraction didn’t last nearly long enough in the Dragon’s opinion, as the explanation of Carlotta and her idea of some kind of science experiment drew another growl from his throat; this one much louder, it rattled the glasses Lani had just wiped down.
This ‘bad mojo’ was something the shifter had experienced before, and he didn’t wish it on another living soul; especially children. He couldn’t even consider that Lani’s parting hint had anything to do with his unborn child or Lillie, for as it was, it was getting harder and harder to control the beast clawing at his insides.

Giving Lillie’s hand a light squeeze, Deacon slid out of the booth and went to the bar, going behind it and helping himself to his favorite liquor, a bottle of gut-rot Tequila with a worm floating at the bottom before grabbing a bottle of water for his pregnant mate.
He couldn’t sit back down. He was too keyed up for that. Handing his wife-to-be the water he twisted the lid off the liquor and began gulping it down. Being a dragon gave him an amped-up tolerance for the stuff, but if he drank enough maybe he could dull the pang in his chest.

“Talk to the ghosts again. I need to know where they lived, what they saw when she took them. I can follow their bodies like a trail of bread crumbs…right toward the witch.”
Realizing his harsh words were probably too much for his delicate flower, he glanced back to her with a softer, poignant look. “Apologies love. I did not mean to be so blunt. I need to find the sorceress before she can do this to another. To our family.”

He took another quick swig from the bottle and wiped across his moistened lips with the back of his hand. “Lani…if I need to go away, you will take care of my female?”

[lillie]

Despite the gravity of the conversation, Lillie couldn’t help the little blush from staining her cheeks, as she felt his lips on her knuckles. It was as if the man was a walking aphrodisiac; she couldn’t help but feel the constant need to rip off his clothes and have her dirty way with him! It was his nearness, his scent, the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her and his lips tilted up into that small smile. She had no idea why others tended to shy away from him, thinking him some kind of…daunting beast. To her, she was his ‘love dragon.’ A slightly overprotective and sometimes irritating love dragon, but hers, nonetheless.

A sixth sense that she’d come to recognize as ‘Deacon Vision’ warned her of the dragon’s dark thoughts and she leaned into him, giving his hand a little kiss of her own. She knew that he was constantly afraid that the witch would be able to get to her, as she had all those centuries ago…and the fact that the evil woman was currently underground had to be making him half insane. From her dreams and the few emotional confessions she’d manage to pull out of him, she knew that her safety was a constant…obsession, almost and yearned to make everything alright.

It was in her nature, she supposed; the need to make everyone around her as happy and content as she strove to be. Forget Deacon’s anxiety about having a homicidal witch roaming New Orleans; the knowing that the love of her life was anything less than ecstatic was KILLING her! If it wasn’t for her pregnant state and the fact her mate would probably keel over and die if she tried it, she’d go hunt the bitch down and end all of the drama!

Man, she’d been raised by four older brothers and dreamt about the future. She did not need anymore drama. Drat, why couldn’t the witch just spontaneously combust and save them all the trouble?

When Deacon pulled away, Lillie couldn’t help the little sound of protest that escaped her. It was always that way; even the smallest distance between them had her groping for his hand. Steeling herself against it, lest Lani use it as this week’s ammunition for her ‘Let’s Make Fun of the Pregnant Lady!’ routine, she forced herself to concentrate on what was being said.

And then wished she didn’t.

”Need to go away?” She squawked, at the same time as Lani’s somber ‘you bet your fine ass.’ Feeling the sudden need to bean either one of them with her now opened water bottle, the psychic couldn’t help but scowl at them.

Ilani just ignored her, instead focusing on the dragon. ”I’ll see what I can do. Cash can wrangle them and I’ll have Pat pull in his favors and get the exact locations of each dump site. From what I’ve learned about this witch, she’s not that smart on the psycho-killer stage; she probably…ugh, I just threw up in my mouth…ate them and left their bodies right where she killed them. So fuck yeah, breadcrumbs. When you find the bitch, I call Punch #1,”

Giving the dragon a little nod, she looked over his shoulder and waved at the mannequin. With what looked like a martyred sigh, the doll slumped forward in defeat, before straightening and going still. Cash was off to fulfill its duties, and now it was time for her to do the same. Turning her amber eyes back to Deacon, she eyed the bottle of tequila he stole, then sauntered around him. ”Now, get the hell out from behind my bar, or I’m gonna tell all the ladies that you’re my new ‘tender. They’ll eat you alive. I’ve gotta go open up, so make yourselves comfortable, you two. If y’all need, you know how to get to my place. I’ll let you know when I have more info for you, Doobie.”

With that and a wave over her shoulder, Ilani moved over to the bar’s entrance and opened the double doors, releasing the wave of people outside. Lillie couldn’t help the involuntary cringe that followed the loud giggles that followed the latest group of patrons into the room, and turned to eye the sexy man behind the bar. ”’Take care of your female,’ huh?” She said, taking a sip of her water. ”You do know that I have more bodyguards than I can count, right?”

[/blockquote]

[deacon]

Deacon’s jaw was clenched with worry; his intense cobalt eyes darting back and forth between the bright haired psychic and his mate at the booth. They lingered on Ilani with a slight head tilt of appreciation when she agreed to both keep eyes on the fragile flower as well as dispatching her own brand of detective; the ghosts that -sought- her out. His stoic expression never faded, not even when she brought up the sorceress’s latest victims again; once more mentioning that she had not only used their inner essence for her magic, but had made a meal of them. This worried the shifter even more. Carlotta was up to something; that much was certain, but exactly what was a mystery he would only be able to learn once he had her right before him; his large hands wrapped around her pale throat.

It had been months since they had seen the witch, which was both a blessing and a bother. It had given the dragon and his woman time to heal; both from physical wounds as well as emotional ones. They had been given time to grow closer and strengthen their timeless bond; reveling in the things they knew about one another since ages before, and discovering new things about one another. Their bliss had formed a shield around them, but it was not one meant to last. The fragile bubble had been trembling against the sharpened minute hand on the clock. Receiving this new knowledge about their arch enemy, the pointed edge had pierced the skin and the shield had burst.

Deacon was lost in his agony when Lani opened the bar up to patrons, and it was only at the sound of Lillie’s disheartened voice did he lift his gaze and drift back over to her side.
He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip and narrowed his eyes, lifting the Tequila to his mouth and taking a heavy pull as his eyes drank her in around the bottle.
Delicate lines of worry creased the tender skin around her eyes; eyes as blue as the heavens at twilight…eyes which could usually erase any tension he felt in his chest or shoulders. Filled with their own concern, this time looking into them fueled a fire of wrath that was hidden within him; a place that was moved by his raw emotions; the fierce ancient beast that was both a part of him and a creature wholly separate. Blood thirsty and brutal. Cruel and guided by instincts.

“If I am to keep you safe, along with all your other aforementioned body guards, I need to be clear of mind and purpose. You speak as if you will be there by my side to face her, and I would not have it so. You have seen her dark power and her wrath once before, a fact that haunts me until I feel the need to seek out a priest to exorcise the ghost. I let her get too close to you before. It will not happen again. She could have killed you, Lillie. She could have killed our childe. I nearly died and had that happened, she could have…”

He inhaled sharply, taking another deep pull before sinking into the seat next to her. His hand drifted under the table to grasp her thigh, gently, he gave it a squeeze before moving upwards to rest at her belly where another heart beat like dragonfly wings. The specter of a smile graced his lips for a moment, but was banished, and his face was again the mask of resolution.

“Lillie, what function has Carlotta for these children that she has made to suffer?” The question was asked of his mate, but Deacon’s far-away stare was proof the inquiry was merely thoughts escaping his lips. “She has been in hiding and to what purpose? Does the ingestion of these babes grant her some different power than what we have seen before? Has she lost control of the dragon army she once fed from to gain potency?” The shifter shook his head and sighed wearily, finally gazing up into Lillie’s face with a look of defeat.

“I will see to it you are instructed with the use of a weapon, but I will not put a weighty sword in my woman’s hand. What thought does mind give to a shiny new stun gun? It would have duel purpose. You could use it on Lani when her mouth runs away from her…”
It was meant to be a joke, of course, but the dragon’s face remained as serious as a heart attack.

[lillie]

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Darn it, was it too hard to ask for a paranoid fiancé? Maybe one who was a tad overprotective and worried about nothing? But no, she had to be the one with the guy who made absolute sense…

Lillie bit back a snort as the thought floated through her mind, and eyed the bottles behind the bar. She really didn’t want to think of Deacon and the witch facing off, but she knew it was inevitable. She also knew that her being around during that fight would be laughable; something quite like a kitten facing off with a grown Doberman…but darn it, she didn’t want him to get hurt! BAH, she really wanted a drink! She wondered how fast her man would have her in a headlock if she went for the tequila bottle he was holding.

With a weary sigh, she rested her hand over his, sliding her fingers through the webs between his. ”I know you’re right,” She said, pitching her voice over the testing sounds coming from the stage behind them. ”And you are; it’s completely foolish to think that I’d be anywhere NEAR the fight between you and Carlotta. I’m not stupid; I know that if I were there, I’d only distract you and…probably end up passed out in a corner somewhere, because I hit myself with my sword.”

She laughed at the thought, though it was only half humored. ”I just…Deacon, everything inside of me is practically screaming for me to not you out of my sight. When you were hurt on the street…I don’t want you to be alone, if you’re hurt like that again. Do you understand? I know you’re afraid of the past repeating itself, but I’m afraid of the same thing. I don’t think I could live without you. And the thought of raising this child on my own…”

Oh crap, there went the waterworks. Quickly, before she could start bawling in front of everyone, she ducked her head and slapped a hand over her eyes. Great, now she was being the hormonal watering pot. Did pregnant women have a spigot? Some way to shut it all off? With a little grumble, she swiped at her eyes and bit the inside of her lip to stop the flow.

Sometimes, she really wished she knew how to be like him. He was so controlled, so stalwart…and there she was, probably making him feel embarrassed or guilty for something that certainly wasn’t his fault. Was it his fault that a crazy-psycho witch from hell had taken one look at his God-like patootie and fell hard? Was it his fault that said crazy-psycho witch wouldn’t freaking die? Nope; both of those were heaped on the shoulders of whatever God awaited them after this life…and when she met It, HEAVEN help It, because when she was through…

With a half sniffle and half laugh at his stun gun comment, Lillie took another swipe at her eyes, then looked up at him again. Catching his hand in hers, she brought it up to his lips to kiss. ”Honey, my brother’s a cop, remember? I haven’t shown you my little box of ‘goodies’ he’s been giving me every Christmas for the past ten years. I think I have more semi-legal weapons than any woman my age should and I know how to use all of them. Now, if we’re talking a special, Witch-Killing sword…God, I’m sorry; just ignore the waterworks. It’s a pregnant woman’s prerogative to regress to two years old.” With a shake of her head, she traded his hand for his cheek as she leaned into him. The smell of him made something inside uncoil.

Though, it wouldn’t be uncoiled for long…



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Crunch, crunch, crunch.

The sounds that her heels made on the pavement were eerily similar to the ones she’d made naught but a few hours ago. Those brittle little bones had been such a treat; who would have known that marrow would taste so good? Crunch, crack, creek and RIP…it was like a symphony orchestra.

Of Death.

The bright neon sign that heralded the cliché biker bar flickered and danced against the darkening sky, and Carlotta frowned at the halo it made around the people moving in and out of the building. It was almost as if it were protected…but by what? Another few steps closer had her frowning even more as the acrid smell of defensive magic assaulted her. Ugh, just smell that! It was like rotten eggs, congealed blood…and the word ‘no.’ Her blood pressure was already fatalistically high with how long it was taking to reclaim her property; she just couldn’t abide by this.

”Hey, baby, you lookin’ to go inside?” A man with slicked back hair and a snake’s smile sidled over to her, slipping his hand to the small of her back. Once upon a time she would have had his fingers cut off for such impertenance, but in today’s world…well, he could be useful, in his own little way.

And his touch…mmm, it reminded him of his touch. Those big, calloused hands and the way they felt on her skin. Ooh, but it gave her the shivers, just thinking about it. He was so close and if everything went as planned, she’d feel them on her again. He was fated to be hers, after all; her pet, her lover, her property.

Not to mention that his child would taste twice as sweet when he watched her devour its little heart.

A wide smile crept onto her face as she finally turned toward the stranger. ”Why, yes I am. Be a gentleman and escort me in, handsome?” Honey dripped from her tongue as she ran a red tipped nail over the man’s chest. She could feel the muscle ripple beneath his shirt, and knew that he was hers.

If she were escorted in by one who didn’t mean harm, she wouldn’t set off any alarm bells with the obviously supernaturally minded proprietor. See? She knew the fool would come in handy.
And once she was inside, well…she just knew he’d taste good.

A step into the building had her wincing, as the strong beat of the music assaulted her ears. Good Lord, did people really listen to this drivel? Ugh, society had definitely declined, while she’d been in hiding. Maybe after she reclaimed her pet, she’d make a new world order in her own image. Oh yes, that would be quite the Christmas present to herself! She clapped her hands; a gesture which her partner saw as approval for his company and immediately ushered her toward the bar.

Bah, she didn’t care what drinks they served; she was only there for one reason and one reason only. Now, where was he…where was her handsome man—

All thought ceased to exist when her eyes fell on the dragon. He was just as she remembered him; so big and powerful. Now that was a leader of men; not the fragile little thing who ran the country. That was a man worth her love, worth the WORLD’S love.

And the love of that freakishly resilient prophet.

Carlotta couldn’t help the low growl that slid from her lips as the human leaned into Deacon. Rage and jealousy boiled under her skin until she was sure it became a physical manifestation. Her power roiled, bubbled in her belly and her fingers clenched at her sides. But no, she couldn’t strike now; not yet. What were they…talking about, anyway? Were they talking about their past life? About how she’d taken that from them? Glee crawled in on the heels of jealousy, as she remembered the look on the slut’s face as she plunged her dagger into her heart…

SQUEAK!

What seemed to be a living doll seemed to throw itself around on the hook it was attached to. Flailing around, its faceless head contorted and jerked back and forth, as if something…inside was trying to get out. What was this? What kind of magic was this?

…Ah, damn. She sighed dramatically when those flopping arms suddenly jerked upright to point directly at her. The stupid thing even started to twitch and flail, almost hitting the patrons around it.

Ghosts. She really did hate ghosts.

[/blockquote]

[deacon]

At Lillie’s playful tease about hitting herself with a sword, the rumor of a smile tilted up one corner of Deacon’s lip and his eyes shone with the light of good humor. But the candle in his cerulean gaze was extinguished before the smile could brighten the rest of his visage and an animalistic growl reverberated low in his throat the moment she brought up that night he had nearly left her, and then the notion she would have to raise their progeny alone. The very thing that did the great and powerful dragon in completely however was the sight of her crystalline eyes leaking diamonds all over her pale, but glowing porcelain cheeks. The shifter’s chest seized; the intense pounding within slowing to a near silence. Pain was seeing Lillie cry; thinking that she felt anything but happiness and peace as she carried the weight of the love they shared in her womb. They had lived and died at the mercy of the witch for too long and he would not have it so. He was going to find Carlotta and he was going to slaughter her. The threat of his heart being ripped from his chest again was over.

Lifting rough and scarred finger pads to her cheeks Deacon wiped away the falling drops of crystal and leaned in to kiss the watery path they had left. “And is it also a pregnant woman’s prerogative to drive her mate to the brink of madness? Talk of you wielding arms like some kind of warrior and then laying breath against my skin… it is enough to drive a dragon insane.” another growl resonated in his chest when her lips pressed against his hand and lifted then his whiskered face, and he let out a rumble that would have sounded very menacing had the prophet not known it was all for her.
The shifter used that scarred and tawny hand to seize her chin, gently tilting her once sightless eyes to his so she could fully grasp the truth behind his words. “I may part your side for a moment in order to rid the witch of breath, but it will be nothing compared to the eternity I will be there to stand beside you…with our child. Children if the Fates are kind.” Deacon told her, and his honesty was a sapphire blaze in his stare. “If you ask it of me, I would burn my clothes and bind myself to your bed with unbreakable shackles. All I ask of is a meal of bread and water to regain my strength after you have used me as you will and a blanket to cover my shame so that I may hold my offspring from time to time…”

And as if the sadness had never been there, it was gone; a mere memory as Deacon wrapped an arm around his mate’s shoulder and pulled her closer into his side, making short work of the Tequila.
By the time he got to the bottom of the bottle and had properly disgusted his female by letting the worm sit on his tongue and then chewing it up with more show than necessary, Deacon was feeling more -human- than he had in long while.
He had Lillie laughing and that sound was music to the shifter’s ears; one certainly more melodic than the noise playing over the loud speakers and moving bodies on the dance floor.

It was perfect. -Was- perfect, that is until a slight chuckle left the dragon’s parted lips at something his mate had said and his gaze went to the tailor’s dummy; once again alive with the movement of the spirit within. The ancient shifter’s brow creased when he realized the jerking was more frantic than before, and he followed the pointing limb to a set of familiar eyes across the bar.

Within those familiar depths Deacon saw his world crumble before him. He saw Lillie--Madeleine pulled from his arms and then felt the pain of that separation as if it were a corporal thing. He saw those glaring, compulsion filled eyes above him; felt her silken black hair falling against his bare shoulders as she writhed and bit at the skin of his neck and used him until there was nothing left but an empty shell.
The memory of that emptiness stunned the man ephemerally, and then unbidden, he leapt up to stand, his hand going to the large blade he had attached to his hip just for occasions such as this.

“No….” He growled and the sound fairly shook the booth he and Lillie had been nestled within; the empty Tequila bottle fell to the floor with a glassy clatter. Lifting the blade from its sheath to point at his beautiful foe, Deacon narrowed his gaze with the glare of a predator on its prey. “You.”

He took a step forward; paused, glancing back at Lillie whose side he refused to leave, and then lifted his deadly stare back on that pair of eyes. Panic had erupted in the club after seeing the powerful and threatening looking male displaying a knife that looked almost comical in size, and with all the yelling and running for the hills he wasn’t completely sure he had really seen her. The witch. The black widow in the web.

[lillie]

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It was actually kind of funny; how moments passed from one to the next. It seemed that in one second, Lillie was accepting the fact that she was a slave for her dragon warrior, and picturing what kinds of ‘I’m sorry’ outfits she was going to buy from Bawdy Kate’s House of Naughtiness, just for him…and in the next, she was face to face with the devil herself.

Before all Hell proceeded to break loose, the psychic had laughed at Deacon’s words; giving him a wry little smile, as he spoke of her driving him insane. ”It’s kind of a Galleau tradition,” She said with another chuckle. ”We tend to drive our significant others insane. Just ask my brother Nicky. His wife is always claiming that she keeps two wooden spoons; one for cooking and the other to beat him senseless.”

Snickering at the thought of her brother and his fiery wife, she had tilted her head to kiss the palm cupping her cheek. She could feel the strength in that hand; practically radiating from his skin like the fire deep within him. He was so strong, so worldly…sometimes, she wondered how he could even consider being around her optimistic little self. And sometimes, if she really let herself go, she began to wonder if he were more in love with her previous self, than the woman she was now…

But, as usual, she slapped those nasty thoughts away. As if her Deacon could be THAT stupid. Hardheaded, overprotective and too darned handsome for his own good, sure, but not stupid.

”Ooh, a dragon-love slave,” She purred in reply, her cheeks heating slightly at the thought of him naked and tied to her bed. Why hadn’t she been given teleportation powers, rather than psychic-ness? ”That would definitely be on my Christmas list. And I just told Lani that I was interested in her fuzzy handcuffs and edible lotion. Did you know that they come in ten different flavors? I’m excited about the strawberry one…but none of that makes a difference. What’s important is that you’re going to come back to me. Because if you don’t, and I have to wait a lifetime for you, like you waited for me…I’m going to follow you into Heaven and beat you throughout eternity.”

Each word was emphasized by a little poke in his chest, as amusement danced through her eyes. She was afraid, sure…but hearing him say those words; swear that he’ll be back to make her pregnant multiple times- cue some rolling of the eyes- she felt the tension in her ease. She laughed, hid her face when the dragon dramatically chewed on the tequila worm and had even snuck a sip or two herself. She was content and for the first time, had the sudden vision of what a normal life would be like.

Not that it lasted very long, but hey, at least she’d had ten minutes of a nice night out on the town.

”OH MY GOD, HE HAS A SWORD!” Someone screamed, and panic broke out. Dancers fled from the area around their booth and the bouncers, with permission from their boss, ushered the others out. Most were kept corralled near the door, as the security teams fought to force the mass of people out into the night. Ilani, looking none too happy with any of them, reached behind her bar and produced a sawed off shotgun, into which she proceeded to load the appropriate shells.

Scooting out of the booth, Lillie stood behind Deacon and grasped the tequila bottle in her slender hand. If need be, she’d break the bottle and use it as her own little sword, but until then, she’d stay back and try not to distract the dragon too much.



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For her part, Carlotta could think of nothing else but how much she loved her pet. Seeing him standing there, looking just as he’d had all those centuries ago…oh, but the memories it brought back! Him in his little wrap and leathers, there to answer to her every beck and call. She remembered looking into those blue eyes as she lay on top of him, and felt the play of muscle under her fingers.

But that look of utter wrath on his face…now THAT hurt. After all she’d done for him! Given him her love and protection from a race of humans who would inevitably hurt him…the ungrateful cad!

Her own brand of fury darkened her features, and her eyes spat hell wrath, especially when that slut of a prophet proceeded to sidle up to the dragon. HER dragon! Her fingers twitched to be used, and she almost gave into the compulsion. The spells she had in mind wouldn’t kill her lover, but it would definitely stop that little bitch’s heart. Deacon, he was strong enough to withstand her magic- it had been what attracted her to him in the first place; that strength- but his slut certainly would not. Just one little spell, and she would be gone…

But so would the baby. Mmm, and she couldn’t have that, now could she? Little dragon-hybrid-freak. She’d never tasted that kind of delicacy. Mmm, mmm, mmm! Finger lickin’!

”Me,” The witch agreed, a wicked smile curving her pale face. As the cattle swerved around them, she faced her pet with her arms loose at her sides. She didn’t even spare a glance at that sword, or the other human woman coming to stand at Deacon’s side with a shotgun. None of them mattered; there was just her, and her love. Her dragon.

”Don’t tell me that you didn’t think I’d gone underground for good,” She went on with a throaty laugh. ”Or that I’d let you find me. Really, Deacon; do you think that this is the first time I’ve been hunted? You’re just so cute! All of you.”

Amusement faded slightly when that strangely dressed human woman raised her shotgun. With a sniff, Carlotta flicked her wrist and cackled in delight as the bar owner went flying backwards to crash into a stack of chairs. Next, her eyes turned to her other problem; the slut cowering behind the dragon.

”One down, one to go…but I think I’ll save her for later. What do you think, Deacon? Shall I kill her the same way as the last time? Or should I come up with something new? She’s such a resilient one, your wife!”

[/blockquote]

[deacon]

The anger inside him was a bubbling cauldron. A warm, red glow began to spread from his hands and then radiated outward until his shoulders wore the same illumination; the living pyre inside of him infecting the tawny human form.
His wide chest lifted and fell as he stood as a breathing shield in front of his pregnant mate; panting as the fire threatened to consume him to the very core. The dragon shifter’s fury was a living inferno. Its only purpose was to escape the bodily confines and burn it all.

Holding his hands out to keep from accidently harming his lover Deacon forced his stare to remain fixed on the sorceress. Even as she spoke he could see more than the raven haired female form before him; he could see the past play out as if it were as much a corporal image as her. His wife torn from his arms and screaming. The witch covered in blood when she came to use him. Madeleine lifeless in his arms after Carlotta had taken the light out of her eyes. A snarl was torn from the dragon’s throat as the witch chided him like a babe and unbidden, the glow in his palms smoldered brighter.



A moment before he cast his palms out to let the flames escape their tawny prison the sound of a weapon cocking stole his attention, and intense azure eyes leapt towards his psychic comrade as the witch lifted her as easy as a rag doll with a mere flick of the wrist and then sent her flying.

Howling as if he could feel Ilani’s pain, Deacon shifted forward; the sharp teeth in his mouth piercing the soft pink gum as the other side of him threatened to take control of his form. It took only the threat of violence against Lillie and the mention of her precedent form to do just that.

“She is resilient, and bears a weighty sword in her husband. So much as speak her name again and find the smile on your face etched eternally into a silent scream before I watch the life leak from your veins.”
And with that the flames spewed from his palms, and he growled in pain and anger as he let the blaze leap towards the grinning witch as if it were a thinking creature with a purpose.

Still he would not move from his woman’s side. The shifter’s skin was stinging with the need to rupture; the black pupils in his eyes narrowed to a reptilian slit that sliced from the top of the sapphire orb to the bottom. The blue was ringed in black. They were cold as diamonds. Underneath the tawny smooth planes of the muscled, but average sized human man, black scales writhed and begged for release. The dragon wanted to come out and play. Deacon clenched his fist and bid his resolve to hold. Shifting within the club would do him no good. There was too much brick and not enough room.

[lillie]

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Instinct had Lillie reaching out for her mate, but seeing the unnatural glow around his hands, she hesitated. She knew the anger that boiled inside of him; how he sometimes described the dragon as another entity altogether. Seeing Carlotta like this, and with her right there in the background…oh God, how was all this happening?

She cried out when Ilani flew back and started to go toward her, when a cold, unseen presence stopped her. What in the world—

There was a cold wind whipping around the room now, and Lillie gaped in outright shock as she caught sight of the wispy forms of…holy cow, were those people?! It was almost as if a little haze of white mist had descended upon the bar, and with every gust of wind, she could just make out the forms of…people. Men, women, some in flowing Victorian dresses and others holding flags. What in the world…were her new eyes giving her some kind of Ilani-Vision?

Well, whatever they were, they scared the ever living crap out of her when two broke off from the crowd and moved toward her. Witch or no, Deacon going into Dragon-Mode or no, there were ghosts moving toward her! Reaching for her! When had she fallen into a freaking horror movie?

Stumbling back a step, she bumped into the booth behind them and started to gape. One of the figures, now fading in and out in live color- he was some kind of…court jester, in big, poofy pants and a frilly shirt- stopped walking toward her and seemed to slap a hand up to his face. He turned, speaking to his partner, and then with a whoosh of wind, she found herself being propelled forward, much like Ilani had been. Except, where the psychic had met the hard wooden wall of the bar, Lillie found herself being ushered forward by invisible, protective hands, toward the back office.

That’s about when she started fighting in earnest, wanting to be near her mate, despite the fact that he had to be alone when facing the witch. She’d gone and promised Deacon that she’d be alright with him facing his age old enemy alone…but she suppose she’d lied.

”Let me out of here!” She yelled, pounding on the now locked door. The ghosts had left, but she still felt them around her, putting up some kind of…defensive line around the room. ”Let me out! Carlotta, you bitch! If you hurt him, I’ll kill you! I’LL KILL YOU!”

And as the mist roiled and surged around the witch and the dragon, said ghost in poofy pants managed to flicker himself up beside Deacon. Giving the dragon a ‘I’m not dead enough for this’ look, he went to making himself look formidable.



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Not that he should have tried, given that the entire show was making Carlotta bend over in mirthful laughter. When the psychic had flown through the air and Deacon’s cry had echoed in the room, the witch’s eyes had practically crossed in pleasure. Oh, but it had been so long since she’d heard that sound! It was like…listening to a beautiful sonata while the sun rose before her eyes. And when he’d gone and threatened her in that lyrical voice of his? Damn, if her panties didn’t melt away right there!

That was why she always pursued him; why she thought, nay knew, that he was hers. He was the only man to ever stand up to her like this; to threaten her in such a way that she knew that, if given the chance, he would kill her as coldly as she had killed others. His bloodlust, his rage, his mercilessness all matched hers.

He was her other half. Her pet. Her Deacon.

”Is that what you really want?” She purred, after she managed to get ahold of herself. Straightening, she made a pouting moue with her lips as the ghosts ushered the female away, but she consoled herself with the fact that the girl would be hers to play with soon enough. Right now, it was time to get reacquainted with her pet again, not obsess over a meaningless little chit. ”Don’t you remember all of the fun times we had? All of those warm nights you spent in my bed. All those—GAH!”

Ducking the flames that soared toward her, she barked out the words of a protective spell. The magical defense surrounded her in a little bubble, and she righted herself with a dramatic huff. ”Really now, that wasn’t necessary, darling. I’m here to reconcile! To—“

Another surprised sound escaped her as a chair suddenly flew through the air, smashing itself into her bubble and forcing her to take a step sideways. After scowling at the gathered ghosts, currently giving each other high fives, she turned back to the dragon. ”As I was saying. I came here to see if we can’t work things out. If you come with me—“

Another chair flew, knocking her another step.

”If you come with me, I promise—“

She grunted as she hit the side of the bar, trying to ignore the ghosts. ”If you give up your little ‘normal life’ fantasy and come with me—THAT’S ENOUGH!”

A wave of power burst through her, and the mist disappeared. Crackling with dark, evil energy, she straightened and faced the dragon. Whatever sweet, innocent façade she’d been entertaining before was gone, now replaced with a look of complete rage, possession and jealousy. Her eyes had bled red, and her skin became pale, almost to the point of transparency.

”Enough of this nonsense! You are MINE, Deacon Aodhagan. You always have been, and you always will be. I will kill that wife of yours for good this time, and you will return to me!”

[/blockquote]