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Discussions - Chapter 8
By Kudara
Disclaimer: All
the characters appearing in Gargoyles are copyright Buena Vista
Television/The Walt Disney Company. No infringement of these
copyrights is intended as this is a not for profit fan fiction
work. All original characters are the property of the author.
Warning: Sexual Content
Notes: Background story
for Thailog and Demona’s relationship are based, with the
authors permission, on the story Better Days by Nancy Brown
http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/1392/gargoyles/betterdz.txt
Dominique Destine’s home, and the
character’s Candice and Gregory are from ‘The Gargoyles
Saga’ world and adapted for use in this story.
Rating: Adult
Feedback: Always welcome, feedback is what encourages me to keep
writing. Please let me know what you like and what you dislike
about the story.
Revision History: 06/21/08
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Friday, December
12th 1997
Night - Wyvern Castle atop the Eyrie
Building, Upper Manhattan
Elisa repeated what she had heard Kendra
say to the unconscious Jon Canmore two days ago. That the Weird
Sisters had used the Canmores for the past thousand years to
keep Demona’s skills honed until they needed her. The detective
didn’t include the fact that Kendra had actually referred to the
three fey as those three bitches instead of the Weird Sisters,
she didn’t really feel it was necessary to be that accurate and
she could just imagine Goliath’s disapproving reaction to that
particular fact.
“Maybe she was talking to the same spirit
Macbeth said helped Demona and him,” Lexington said before
anyone else could speak up.
The detective looked over at him in
surprise, that possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind. Part
of the reason she was having trouble accepting Macbeth’s story
was the idea of yet another powerful mystical entity out there
that she had never suspected existed before. His suggestion,
however, did offer a reason for Kendra’s strange behavior over
her unconscious cousin.
The web-winged gargoyle frowned
thoughtfully, but before he could say what was on his mind
Brooklyn interrupted, “Don’t tell me you think this story of a
spirit is real?” he said incredulously. “This is just something
else Demona has cooked up, just like with those fake Quarrymen
and that Assassin guy.”
“Brooklyn,” Goliath reproved him, “We do
not know what is real and what is not, that is why I said we
must watch and wait to determine the truth.”
“Surely this proves that what Macbeth told
us was real,” protested Angela.
Brooklyn offered suspiciously, “She could
be in on it as well for her own reasons. Maybe that’s the real
reason Demona helped her and why she’s working for Demona now.”
Elisa winced at how paranoid he sounded. If that was how she
sounded, no wonder Matt was constantly harping on her about it.
“And what would those be?” the young female
replied scornfully, her arms on her hips as she scowled at him,
“Or is it just that anything that points toward my mother not
being as evil as everyone thought, must be part of this
mysterious plot of hers.”
“Enough,” growled Goliath, looking
particularly unhappy, and the detective knew it was because the
old argument between Angela and Brooklyn over Demona was
starting once again. “If,” he stressed the word, “what Macbeth
told us is real, then you are right,” he said to his daughter,
“it does explain why she changed in the way she did over the
centuries we were sleeping.” The big lavender male paused, his
expression turning even more grim, “That does not, however, mean
that Demona is not a threat to this clan,” he frowned at Angela
when it looked as if she were about to interrupt him, silencing
her. “Until we see evidence that Demona has given up her anger
and bitterness and is no longer a threat to us or the humans we
protect, we must be wary of her.”
“But what if now is the time that some
support from us could persuade her to give up her bitterness and
anger,” Angela implored. Finally saying what had been bothering
for some nights, the feeling that she was letting a real
opportunity to reach out to her mother slip away from her.
Elisa stared at the young lavender female
troubled, if what they had been told was the truth, she couldn’t
say that Angela was wrong. If Demona was emotionally struggling
with the truth of what had happened to her in the past, then now
might be the perfect time for the young gargoyle to make an
attempt at reaching out to her mother. In light of that
possibility, did she have the right to insist that the clan put
her investigation first and ignore whatever was going on with
the immortal gargoyle?
Brooklyn broke in, unable to keep silent
any longer. He couldn’t believe that Angela could still be so
naive about her mother, “And what if this is just for that
purpose, so that we will feel sorry for what she has gone
though. This is just another plot of hers to get back in the
clan and once she is she’ll try and take over from Goliath just
as she’s been trying to do all along!” the brick red gargoyle
glared at her.
“Enough!” Goliath said again, this time
with a roar loud enough to make everyone flinch, “you have heard
my decision. We cannot afford to have our attention diverted
from Elisa’s investigation of the Quarrymen by this matter.” He
paused, staring sternly at them, “To tell us about Kendra
Canmore was only part of the reason Elisa came tonight,” the
huge lavender male turned toward the detective, obviously
meaning for her to take over the conversation.
Despite her new doubts Elisa nodded to him,
this wasn’t the right time or place to bring them up, “We don’t
know what is going on yet, but the Quarrymen definitely have
some big operation planned for the next week or so,” she said
somberly. “One thing I do know is that whatever they are
planning, it will put you guys in even more danger from them.
We have to be ready to stop them and hopefully find enough
evidence to put Canmore and the other Quarrymen leaders in
jail.” She went on to describe the increased meetings between
Jon Canmore and the other Quarrymen leaders, the frenetic and
almost paranoid way Jon was acting recently.
Five minutes later, the detective stared
after the dwindling forms of the five gargoyles. Goliath had
decided to take the clan out on patrol, not wanting either
Angela or Brooklyn to have time alone to fume, or worse, time to
argue with one another. “What’s bothering you lass?” Hudson
asked, coming up beside her.
Elisa glanced over at him, “That if
Angela’s right then this is the time for her to try and contact
Demona, and if Brooklyn’s right then that’s exactly the wrong
thing for her to do.”
The old gargoyle sighed, “That does seem to
be the entire problem doesn’t it. We don’t know if what we’re
hearing is the truth or another lie.”
Saturday, December 13th 1997
Morning – Kendra’s Estate, north of
Poughkeepsie, Dutchess County, NY
“Demona wake up,” Kendra’s voice disturbed
the gargoyle’s slumber, “I’ve got a cup of coffee for you.”
The green eyes reluctantly opened, focusing
on the woman standing by the bed holding the promised cup.
Sleepily the flame haired gargoyle blinked up at her, “What time
is it?” she asked her voice husky with sleep.
“Six o’clock,” the black haired woman said
with a smile, “if we can head out in twenty or so minutes I can
find where the herd is feeding this morning and show them to
you.”
Demona stared at Kendra; she could tell it
wasn’t even sunrise yet though it was close. She sat up and
held out a taloned hand for the cup of aromatic brew. She was
slightly grumpy about being woken on the weekend while it was
still dark outside, but she could see that her lover was excited
about this. Therefore, she didn’t say anything but sipped her
coffee, transformed into her human form and dressed warmly, as
she wasn’t certain how long they would be outside.
Signs of the day were apparent in the
lightening of the darkness when they stepped outside. It wasn’t
anywhere near as cold as it had been in Canada, but Dominique’s
breath still hung in the cold air. In one hand she held a
covered stainless steel mug of coffee, and in the other a warm
biscuit stuffed with ham, swiss cheese and egg.
“I’ve got four winter food plots, I’m
guessing they will be at one of them,” Kendra said as they
started walking across the expanse of yard that separated the
house from the surrounding woods and what looked like cleared
fields. The stark bare branches of the trees of the woods
raised toward the sky, while underneath, the fall leaves formed
a brown carpet among the underbrush.
The redhead raised an eyebrow, “What are
food plots?” she asked curiously.
“In winter just some winter wheat and
corn,” the black haired woman explained, “in the spring I’ll
have alfalfa, soybeans, spring oats and buckwheat planted in
between corn rows.”
It took them fifteen minutes to get to the
first plot. They slowed as they approached, swinging around so
that they were approaching from downwind and stepping lightly
among the dried leaves on the forest floor to avoid making too
much noise. Dominique stared at the row of short round trees
that bordered the field of alternating rows of dried corn and
wheat. “What are those?” she whispered in Kendra’s ear.
“Crabapple and persimmon trees, they act
both as a natural wind break for the field and as an extra food
source,” the black haired woman whispered back. “Ah we’re
lucky, there they are,” she said softly.
Dominique had already spotted the movement;
it was a grayish-brown colored doe, stepping warily along the
row of corn. The animal raised up on her hind legs and grabbed
a dried ear of corn in her mouth, pulling it as well as the top
of the corn plant down as she dropped to all four feet. Another
deer appeared behind the doe, the redhead frowned, this deer was
limping badly and as more of it came into view, she could see
deep bloody wounds on its sides and rear legs.
Beside her, Kendra stiffened, “Damn it, I
thought that feral dog pack had all been caught,” she growled
quietly.
The redhead looked again at the wounded
deer, its injuries looked fresh. If she could only get close
enough, she could at least speed the animal’s healing. But of
course, that was the problem; it would be rather difficult to
persuade the deer that she meant it no harm. Or was it…she
wondered.
“That was one of the best young bucks born
that year too,” Kendra said angrily, “I doubt he’ll keep enough
strength in his hindquarters once that heals to compete with the
other males during rutting season now though.”
“How old is he?” Dominique asked. She was
surprised that Kendra recognized the deer; she knew that the
black haired woman picked out which deer she would hunt each
moon, but that was slightly different from knowing each animal
in the herd by sight.
“Two years old,” Kendra answered, “he’ll be
old enough to compete with the more mature bucks in another year
or two.”
The redhead turned and looked at her lover
for a second, seeing the compassion there for the wounded
animal. She shook her head slightly, Kendra’s relationship with
this herd was obviously more complex than she had guessed, “Let
me ask if there’s anything I can do to get close to him, if I
can than I can heal that.” She grinned at the surprised look on
her lover’s face, settled into a more comfortable position and
closed her eyes, shifting her consciousness effortlessly into
the spirit realm.
The great Irish Elk was not waiting for
her, but she had the feeling that he would be there very soon.
She looked over at the shadowy image of the wounded deer,
altering her vision so that she could see its life energy. Here
it was a simple matter to move close enough to the animal so
that she could kneel by it and examine its wounds more closely.
Some of the wounds were very deep and had torn the muscle, but
none seemed to be immediately life threatening unless the animal
went further into shock than it was or they got infected.
“Chosen,” the deep voice of the spirit drew
her attention away from the wounded deer.
Dominique swiveled and rose in one move,
“Ancient One,” she responded. She looked down at the grayish
image of the deer, “I would like to heal this buck’s wounds, but
unlike a tree he can, and probably will, run away. I was hoping
you knew of a way to get him to stay still long enough for me to
help him.” The great stag stepped gracefully toward her to look
down upon the much smaller deer. “Kendra thinks a feral dog
pack attacked him, from the wounds I’d guess that she’s right,”
added the redhead, seeing that the spirit was examining the
deer’s injuries.
“There is a way chosen,” the great stag
finally said, shifting his gaze from the deer to her. Dominique
met his eyes expecting him to teach her; instead the spirit
gazed at her for a very long moment. She had the feeling she
was being evaluated, but she had no idea why, then his eyes drew
her in, and by the time they released her once again she
understood. “There is a responsibility that goes along with
using life energy in this way chosen,” the Ancient One stated,
his tone stern.
Dominique bowed her head slightly, “I will
not misuse it,” she promised him, her green eyes meeting his
brown ones solemnly.
He dipped his antlered head in
acknowledgement, “I will be here to assist you with healing the
animal once you are ready. It is different from mending a tree,
but I believe you will have no great difficulty.”
The redhead gave him a grateful look and
slipped back into the living world. She drew in a breath of the
cold air and opened her eyes to meet Kendra’s curious blue
gaze. “There is a way,” she said to the black haired woman
quietly, “I have to convince him that I, and anyone with me,
mean him no harm, and that I’m going to help him.” She paused a
second, trying to think of how to say what needed to be said so
that Kendra understood she couldn’t go with her, without hurting
her lover’s feelings, “That has to be the truth; otherwise it
will be a grave misuse of the abilities the Ancient One gave
me.”
Kendra’s eyes widened as she absorbed this,
“I guess I’ll be staying back here then,” she said settling back
on her heels, “you can’t make that promise for me.”
The redhead leaned forward and gave her
lover a quick kiss; thankful that Kendra understood that with
the full moon so near, she couldn’t be vouched for by Dominique
when she would be hunting the herd either this night or the
next. “Can you back up a little bit, I’m not sure I can move
quietly enough to get closer without alarming him.”
Kendra nodded and backed carefully away
until she was several feet behind the redhead. From there she
watched curiously as Dominique held out one hand toward the
wounded deer for a few seconds before the redhead moved forward
a few feet and then stopped again to hold out her hand before
repeating the process over again. The other deer moved away
nervously, but the injured one remained still, staring at the
cautiously approaching human with its ears pricked forward. The
black haired woman could only guess that Dominique was using
life energy in some way to calm the animal. Still, it took
almost a full minute of the slow stop and go process for the
redhead to cross the intervening space to the wounded deer’s
side. Kendra watched in awe as the animal sniffed at
Dominique’s hand and accepted her touch without any more than a
flicker of its tail from side to side.
With her enhanced eyesight, Kendra could
see the deepest wounds in the animal’s flanks slowly closing as
Dominique began healing the worst injuries first. “My lover is
a healer,” she whispered almost silently to herself in wonder
and a touch of awe as she watched. This was the first time she
had seen Dominique heal anything other than a tree, and somehow
seeing the deer’s wounds heal as the redhead concentrated on
knitting together the injured flesh made it real in a way it
hadn’t been before. She suspected Dominique was currently
straddling the realms and getting instruction from the Ancient
One, but didn’t feel like shifting and missing any of this to
see if her guess was correct.
After the young buck’s worst injuries were
healed, the animal seemed more alert and definitely more curious
about the strange creature healing him. Kendra watched with a
grin as the deer sniffed at Dominique’s long hair and lipped at
it inquisitively causing the redhead to turn and look at the
animal with a raised eyebrow and amused look. Dominique petted
the animal on its muzzle for a few seconds before returning her
attention to its flank and the remaining less serious injuries
there. Kendra shook her head remembering the prickly
antagonistic gargoyle she had first met, who would have guessed
that just over a month later that same gargoyle would be doing
something like this.
“He wanted to follow you home I see,”
Kendra said with a smirk several minutes later as Dominique
walked toward her. The redhead had ended up having to sternly
escort the buck back to where she had healed him several times
before the young male seemed to get the idea that she really
didn’t want him to come with her.
Dominique looked back at the young buck
that was now contentedly grazing on the dried wheat, bemused;
she hadn’t anticipated that the animal would decide it wanted to
stay with her. “I hadn’t expected that,” the redhead admitted.
Kendra chuckled, “So shall we name him
Bambi?” she asked with sideways look and a sly grin. She got an
elbow in the side for an answer, but as she looked over at the
redhead, she noticed the solemn look Dominique was directing
toward the animal. Kendra put one arm around the redhead and
hugged her, “Don’t worry, something tells me Bambi there will
lead a charmed life,” Kendra said ruefully staring at the
animal.
“You don’t have to,” the redhead said
softly, shifting her gaze from the peacefully gazing buck to the
black haired woman beside her.
“I know, but something in here,” Kendra
tapped Dominique gently on the chest, “reached out to him and
told him he was safe with you. That’s good enough for me to let
him live a good long life, besides,” she said in a purposefully
lighter tone, “I could hardly kill the first animal you ever
healed.”
Two hours later, Kendra watched in
amusement as three yelping and terrified dogs ran as fast as
their legs would carry them out of her territory. She roared a
threatening snarl after them just to remind them of why they
didn’t want to cross onto her land again before turning and
heading for home.
Late Morning – Kendra’s Estate, north of
Poughkeepsie, Dutchess County, NY
Dominique stirred, and snuggled deeper into
the arms and warm body behind her. When Kendra returned from
scaring off the feral dogs and re-marking the boundaries of her
land, they had decided to take a bath together. The redhead
smiled; any intentions either of them had of simply bathing
together hadn’t lasted for more than a few minutes before soapy
hands had started wandering.
The memory of cold tiles against her back
as she rocked against the heat of Kendra’s mouth and begged her
lover to fill her flashed though her mind, sending a warm
throbbing pulse of heated arousal through her. She shifted,
feeling the gathering moisture between her legs with disbelief.
She could understand if the bathtub had been the only time, but
once they finally dried off and made it to the bedroom they had
made love once again, rocking slowly against one another for a
long time before finally coming in each other’s arms and then
falling asleep. She couldn’t possibly want Kendra again so
soon…a warm hand sliding up her side, cupping her breast, and
gently pinching the nipple derailed Dominique’s thoughts. She
couldn’t stop the moan of want that escaped her throat, the
arching of her back thrusting her breast against Kendra’s hand,
or the way she ground her hips into her lover’s body.
“So beautiful, so sexy,” Kendra breathed in
the redhead’s ear, “sometimes I wonder what I did so right to
deserve you.”
Even as her body reacted to the words,
Dominique bit back a disbelieving, sobbing laugh, surely that
had to be her line not Kendra’s. If she were truthful with
herself, she would admit that she hadn’t felt deserving of love
for centuries, perhaps that had been the real reason she put up
with the scraps of affection she got from Thailog along with the
rest of the way he treated her, she hadn’t believed she really
deserved anything better. Teeth dragging along the top of her
shoulder before lightly biting the muscle
sent her thoughts of the cloned male scattering like
leaves, “Kendra,” she whispered entreatingly.
The arm holding her tightened in a hug,
“What do you want my love?”
The whispered question evoked a frustrated
whimper from the redhead, “You,” Dominique didn’t know quite
what she wanted; she felt so conflicted right now, torn between
the memories that kept rising in her mind and the sweetness of
her lover’s touch.
“You have me,” Kendra assured her.
The promise brought the beginning of tears
to Dominique’s eyes, she turned in the black haired woman’s
arms, “I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you,” she confessed,
gazing up into the warm sapphire blue eyes.
Gentle fingers brushed along her
cheekbones, “Then aren’t we both lucky that love doesn’t seem to
care a whit about such things,” Kendra murmured before her lips
covered the redhead’s.
Dominique buried her fingers into her
lover’s thick black hair as their mouths met; Kendra’s kiss was
loving and passionate. She threw back her head, exposing more
of her throat as those lips left her own and trailed down her
neck. Lips closed around her nipple, pulling a pleased murmur
from Dominique at the same time as an insistent knee slid
between her thighs. She willingly parted her legs allowing
Kendra to slide in between them.
Dominique’s world swiftly narrowed to the
weight and warmth of her lover upon her, the insistent mouth
that alternately tormented and soothed her sensitive breasts,
and the first gentle, teasing strokes on the intimate flesh
between her thighs. But even the acute pleasure from Kendra’s
touch couldn’t stem the flood of memories that insisted upon
rising into Dominique’s mind. Instead, the pleasure swirled and
entwined with the bitter sorrow rising from the deep dark well
of pain that was her past, creating a bittersweet torment of
both.
In the beginning, sex with Thailog had been
very good, though she wasn’t certain now if it were him or the
fact that she had been centuries without a lover when she first
met him. That happy time hadn’t lasted but a few weeks or so
before she began realizing how rough he was with her. After
that it hadn’t taken very long at all before the bruises from
his grip, or the raw areas on her wings or arms and legs from
where he pushed her against the floor, or the unpleasant ache
inside from him being to forceful with his thrusts, had caused
her to be almost as wary of intimacy with him as she was
desirous of it.
She remembered the very first time she had
touched Kendra, and how she had mentally compared how much she
had wanted Thailog in the beginning with how much she wanted to
touch Kendra. Now though that mental comparison seemed like an
insult to her lover, Kendra was nothing like that selfish and
insensitive betraying male. For one thing Kendra had never hurt
her, not even during their most passionate and forceful
lovemaking. That realization was enough for Dominique to
finally understand what it was that she wanted from Kendra. She
wrapped her arms round her knees, pulling her bent legs towards
her chest and opening herself completely to her lover. “Take
me, claim me,” she begged, hoping that Kendra would understand
that this was an offering of trust.
Kendra paused, stared into her eyes for a
long moment before she replied, her expression intent, “I
will.” The black haired woman sat back on her thighs, looked
down at the soft intimate flesh offered to her. The soft
teasing touches began once again, and Dominique drew in a sharp
breath as she watched her lover watch what her fingers were
doing upon her flesh. The blue eyes flickered up caught her
gaze, fingers teased her center, began entering her, “Don’t
close your eyes, I want to see you as I take you,” she commanded
as the redhead’s green eyes began to close.
Dominique’s eyes opened, locked with
Kendra’s blue gaze, and she gave a harsh gasping moan as she was
filled. “Kendra,” she pleaded, this was so different from the
other night when they had looked for the love in one another’s
gaze, that had been gentle, loving and soft, this was no less
loving, but instead of gentle and soft it was commanding and
very possessive. Exactly what she had wanted though she hadn’t
anticipated this, she felt like this claim was being placed not
just upon her body, but also upon her soul.
“Demona,” Kendra whispered as her fingers
claimed the redhead once again, this time twisting as they
entered.
The redhead arched into it, driving her
lover’s fingers deeper inside, keeping her eyes locked on
Kendra’s, a hissed, “Yes,” was all she was able to utter in
response. A second hand joined the first, fingers slid inside
her gathering up the copious moisture there before sliding down
to the second opening that no one had ever touched before.
“Kendra?” Dominique questioned uncertainly, feeling the fingers
circle and play with the opening, which was proving to be
surprisingly sensitive.
“I’ll stop if you want me to,” Kendra
reassured her, the finger caressing her there slipped slightly
inside before withdrawing.
Dominique was surprised, she hadn’t
realized that being touched there would feel so good, the finger
slipped inside once again and she pressed down upon it, pushing
it deeper inside her. She moaned in pleasure at the feel, and
drew in a breath, “No, its ok, I just hadn’t thought…it’s not
sensitive like this when I’m a gargoyle,” she explained
disjointedly.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kendra said, her
blue eyes dark and intense, and in the next moment both of her
hands moved in unison, twisting, entering slowly, inexorably,
wringing a pleasured cry from the redhead.
It was all Dominique could do to keep her
eyes open and fixed upon Kendra’s gaze under the dual
penetration of her lover’s fingers thrusting steadily into her,
filling her, claiming every part of her. It felt so
unimaginably good to be taken this way; she shook with the
ecstasy of it, the intimacy of it. Kendra shifted and she had a
moment to wonder why before the black haired woman bent toward
her and there was the warmth of her lover’s mouth upon her, the
flicker of Kendra’s tongue over her forcing another aroused cry
from her lips. She tightened her arms around her knees and
closed her eyes concentrating on the beautiful sensations
Kendra’s tongue and fingers were creating as they added to the
ever-rising spiral of sensation and tension inside her. She
began rocking into her lover’s touch as the ecstasy and pressure
built, she was barely aware of her sobbing breaths, the way she
chanted Kendra’s name, or told her how good what she was doing
felt while imploring her not to stop.
The knowledge that she could open herself
this way, make herself so vulnerable and trust Kendra not to
hurt her filled the redhead with a raw wild joy. The steady
rhythmic movement of Kendra’s hands and tongue, the thrusting
fingers filling her, claiming her, drove her need, her pleasure,
her ecstasy, ever higher and higher. The redhead was shaking
helplessly now with the pleasure of it and still it built ever
higher ever more acute and intense. Dominique felt on the edge
of fracturing into a thousand pieces, between the unbearable
tension of the rising pleasure and the emotions surging through
her she felt raw and naked to her soul. When her orgasm finally
came, when the ecstasy roared through her body, scattering her
senses and utterly overwhelming her, all she was aware of was
Kendra’s claiming touch within her and the warmth of her mouth
and tongue against her as she screamed the woman’s name. Then
she couldn’t stop the harsh sobbing that shook her, she felt
shattered, unmade, and only Kendra’s hand pulling her arms from
around her legs so that she could lower them to the bed and then
Kendra’s body wrapping tightly around her started pulling the
scattered pieces of her back together.
Finally, her lover’s increasingly worried
questions broke though the emotions clouding her senses, “Hold
me, just hold me,” she pleaded, “you didn’t hurt me, you’ve
never hurt me.”
Something about the way Dominique sounded
when she said the last caused Kendra’s brow to crease in
concern, “I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you,” she reassured the
woman in her arms. Dominique couldn’t see the flicker of rage
that passed over her lover’s features at the thought that
someone in the past had hurt the redhead that way. Kendra knew
there were only two possibilities for the culprit, and one of
the two was far likelier than the other given what she knew from
Dominique of the cloned male Thailog.
Kendra stroked Dominique’s hair, soothed
her hand along her back, and pressed soft kisses against her
skin. When the harsh sobs shaking Dominique’s body quieted the
black haired woman whispered into the red hair, “I need to go
wash my hands, and I’ll be right back.” She waited for
Dominique’s acknowledgement before rolling carefully away and
hurrying to the bathroom. As soon as she came back, Kendra
pulled the redhead back into her arms, wrapping herself
protectively around Dominique’s suddenly fragile seeming body as
much as she was able. “I will never purposefully hurt you, and
I will always try my best to never accidentally hurt you
either,” she whispered.
“I know,” Dominique replied, she squirmed
and when Kendra loosened her hold she turned and buried her head
underneath Kendra’s chin. She lay there, feeling Kendra’s
strong arms wrap around her once again as they settled against
one another. Despite, or perhaps because of the crying she had
done, she felt more at peace than she had before. She felt
Kendra moving slightly, her arm reaching for something, and then
the blankets were pulled over them. Dominique smiled, kissed
the soft skin of her lover’s chest, Kendra was always watching
out for her like this. She remembered how during their very
first sparring session the black haired woman had been so
worried about hurting her wings. She allowed her eyes to close,
feeling completely relaxed, happy and contented, and safe within
Kendra’s arms.
On the edge of sleep and dreaming, between
consciousness and unconsciousness when one wasn’t certain what
was real and what was the dream, Dominique thought she heard
Kendra say softly, “I love you.”
The redhead rubbed her cheek against warm
soft skin, “I love you too,” she whispered, never completely
waking, never realizing that her lover had momentarily stiffened
upon realizing she had been heard and then relaxed and hugged
her more tightly at hearing the response.
Noon - Eyrie Building in Upper
Manhattan
“So,” Fox drawled out the word, not
bothering to hide the grin on her face, “what do you think now?”
David Xanatos chuckled, “I think you might
be right,” he admitted. The reports from his investigators that
Kendra Canmore had been spending every night this past week at
Dominique Destine’s home did seem to point to the two of them
being lovers.
“Interesting that her driver is gay,” Fox
remarked, they were fairly certain now that was who blew the
whistle on their information gathering attempts. The fact that
Dominique’s driver was gay and he was the one to tell her about
the bribery attempts, was to Fox another piece of evidence
indicating that she was right.
“Not only her driver,” David said dryly.
The tattooed redhead raised an eyebrow inquiringly, “Nightstone
has eight division managers,” he said, “and after seeing the
reports on them, I think that three of them are homosexual, or
at least they have someone of the same sex living with them that
aren’t related by blood.”
Fox stared at him in surprise, she leaned
back in her chair thoughtfully, “Roommates?” she offered another
possible explanation.
“Only if you usually put a roommate on your
life insurance, your power of attorney, in your will, and live
with the same roommate for more than five years,” he replied
dryly.
She inclined her head, that didn’t sound
like the average roommate, “Do you think Demona knows?” she
wondered.
He shrugged, “I have no idea, but I find it
rather interesting.”
It was interesting, interesting in one way
if she hadn’t known and had unconsciously picked them out from
the other prospective applicants, and interesting in another if
she had known and hired them on purpose. “So are we going to
tell the clan that Demona has a human lover?” Fox asked. “A
female human lover,” she added with a smile.
David looked thoughtful, “I don’t know that
they would believe us with the information we have right now, so
I’d like to find something more concrete than what we have so
far before telling them. And I’d like to know what Elisa Maza
has been discussing with them lately that has Brooklyn and
Angela glaring at one another again. I’ll be very surprised if
it doesn’t have something to do with Demona.”
“They do all seem to be a bit tense
lately,” Fox agreed. “It’s too bad that Lexington figured out
how to scan for hidden microphones or we’d know.” The
web-winged gargoyle had found the ones scattered about the
battlements only a few weeks after the clan moved back into the
castle, and since they were trying to gain the clan’s trust,
they hadn’t replaced them after Lexington found them.
“And they no longer have their discussions
within range of the security system cameras,” David added with a
disgruntled frown.
Fox thought for a moment, considering the
possibilities in her mind. She smirked, “Maybe there’s a simple
way to find out.” Xanatos looked at her questioningly. His
wife leaned back in her chair, looking rather Cheshire like,
“I’ll ask Lexington what’s going on with Angela and Brooklyn
while he’s playing with Alex tonight.”
Early Afternoon – Kendra’s Estate, north
of Poughkeepsie, Dutchess County, NY
“Alright, first let’s start with the basic
dance frame,” Kendra said standing very close to Dominique.
They were currently in the middle of the eastward facing sun
room, having already moved some of the furniture out of the way
to make an open space in the middle. “I’ll form an L shape with
my left hand, and if you will place your right hand thus,” she
said taking Dominique’s hand and placing it so that her four
fingers fit between Kendra’s thumb and fingers and the redheads
thumb was on the outside of her own. “Perfect,” the black
haired woman commented once that was done.
“Now square your shoulders,” once again she
demonstrated, “this makes your shoulder blades more prominent so
that I can do this.” Her right arm curved around Dominique as
she placed her right hand on her back above the bone. “Keeping
your shoulders back gives me a good hold so that I can do this,”
she pulled with her fingers catching the edge of the shoulder
blade and moving the redhead to her right, “or this,” she pushed
with the heel of her hand, pushing against the bone and moving
Dominique the other way.
The redhead smirked, “A steering hold?”
Kendra grinned, “Along with this,” she
shook her left hand which was clasping the redhead’s right hand,
“yes. Now place your left arm on top of mine, and your hand on
top or in front of my shoulder.” She looked down at the result,
“Hmm,” she frowned, “I’m missing…” the frown cleared, “put your
thumb toward the inside of my shoulder, or your entire hand,
just something so you can feel if I’m turning or moving toward
you.” Dominique moved her hand slightly, and Kendra leaned
forward letting her feel how it allowed her to sense that
movement. “Ok firm this arm up,” the black haired woman said
shaking their clasped hands, “but not too firm. There should be
a slight pressure but our arms shouldn’t be stiff.”
Dominique was surprised at how pleasant it
felt to be held like this, not that she had expected it to feel
unpleasant, but she hadn’t expected it to feel as nice as this.
The muscles of Kendra’s shoulder felt solid underneath her left
hand, the clasp of the black haired woman’s hand around her own
warm and strong, and they were close enough to…she leaned
forward and pressed her lips against Kendra’s. Her lover’s arms
tightened around her, pulling her closer until their bodies met.
When they parted, Kendra said “Now, now,”
her voice stern, but her blue eyes were dancing with amusement,
“no distracting the dance instructor.”
“Who’s easily distracted?” smirked
Dominique.
“Who’s easily distracted,” Kendra agreed
with a grin. “Now if you will look down,” the black haired
woman continued with the dance lesson, “you will notice our
bodies are off center, I have room to move my left foot without
stepping on you and you have room to move your right foot. You
will always, no matter what the dance, start on your right
foot,” Kendra said to the redhead.
Dominique nodded, “And you your left?”
“Exactly,” Kendra said, “I’ll start off on
my left. So if you will shift your weight slightly to your left
foot and keep your knees loose, you don’t want to lock them.”
Kendra waited a second and then stepped forward with her left
foot.
Dominique felt the movement, both with
their clasped hands and with the hand on Kendra’s shoulder, it
was natural with her weight mostly on her left leg to simply
step back with her right. She smiled; maybe this wouldn’t be
that difficult to learn after all.
“Very good,” Kendra praised, “I guess it’s
time to learn your first dance, the simplest one is the Slow
Dance, which is a four count dance. We’ll start with taking a
step to the side, you with your right foot me with my left, so
step,” Kendra stepped, and Dominique felt the simultaneous pull
on their clasped hands and subtle push to her shoulder blade
indicating which direction the black haired woman wanted her to
move. She took the step to the side with her right foot, “pause
with your weight on your right foot, and then bring your left
foot over and just touch it to the floor without shifting your
weight to it.” Kendra waited until the redhead had followed
suit, “And then back the other way with your left foot and then
touch with your right to complete the four counts.”
“Simple enough right?” Kendra commented
once they had completed a few more of the basic step touches
with the black haired woman quietly calling out the steps.
“I trust there is more to this dance than
simply moving back and forth,” Dominique said, having found the
basic step ridiculously easy to master.
“There is,” Kendra grinned, “you’re sure
you’ve got this down?” she asked with a smirk.
The redhead mock glared at her, while
trying and failing to keep an answering grin from her face, “I
believe so,” she responded dryly.
“Then we will move onto the diagonal step,”
Kendra said pausing and bringing them to a halt. “I’ll step
forward and slightly to my left while you step back and to the
right,” she followed the instruction with the step and was
pleased to see the Dominique automatically followed the step up
with the touch, “and yes like that touch and then step back the
other direction, me with my right, you with your left…and
touch.” She gave her partner a warm smile of encouragement, the
dance was simple, and so she expected the redhead to learn it
quickly. What she was pleased with was how Dominique was
showing such a quick grasp of stepping on the correct time.
Rhythm was one of the hardest things to master if it didn’t come
naturally, requiring time and practice to learn, but Dominique
seemed to have a natural feel for it. “So the next step is the
back diagonal, and since we always start off on the same feet,
it will be me on my left stepping back and left and you on your
right foot stepping forward and right.”
They danced around for a few minutes
practicing the different steps. There were a few missteps when
she expected the black haired woman to go in one direction and
Kendra went in another until the redhead started paying more
attention to Kendra’s signals indicating which direction they
were moving in next instead of which direction the redhead
thought her lover should go.
“Now for the basic turns, once we have
those down I’ll put on some music and we’ll put everything into
practice.”
Sunset – Kendra’s Estate, north of
Poughkeepsie, Dutchess County, NY
To Demona’s surprise Kendra wanted to go
gliding instead of walking through the woods when night came,
the Jagaur’s chosen wouldn’t go hunting until tomorrow night,
the night of the full moon. “Alright,” she agreed, glancing up
at the black haired woman from where she was lounging on the
dark brown leather couch reading Amateur City, the mystery novel
Kendra had bought her a little over a week ago. She couldn’t
quite bring herself to read the romance novel, and besides she
had been curious about the book ever since her IT Division
manager, Ms. Conrad, had mentioned it to Kendra while trying to
figure out if she was gay.
“We need to make you some clothes,” the
flame haired gargoyle commented, glancing over at her now furred
lover as they stepped out onto the small second floor balcony
above the front door of the house a few minutes later.
Kendra shrugged, “We haven’t had the time.
Besides, who else but you is going to see me?” She smirked,
“And I thought you liked the view.”
“I do like the view,” Demona commented
huskily, letting her eyes sweep slowly up the were-jaguar’s
winged muscular form. “But we might run into the clan sometime
and they’re rather used to at least a certain level of modesty.”
Kendra leapt upon the railing of the
balcony, she crouched there for a moment her tail lazily
swishing back and forth before standing and balancing there
easily. “If it can be cut so that it’s comfortable on the wings
and tail, a dark sapphire blue tunic would probably look good
and not show up against the night sky,” she said, offering her
hand to the flame haired gargoyle.
Demona took it with an amused shake of her
head, this time she wasn’t surprised when she was lifted up to
the railing. She looked critically at Kendra, trying to imagine
the style and color on her. “I think that would look good on
you,” the blue gargoyle agreed after a moment’s consideration,
“and a tunic isn’t difficult to make, one of the gargoyles in my
clan at Moray wore something like that.”
Kendra looked more interested in the idea
upon hearing this, “Maybe we can go into Poughkeepsie tomorrow
and look for a suitable fabric?”
The flame haired gargoyle nodded, she
opened her wings and leapt off the railing, gaining altitude
with a down sweep of her wings and then finding a wind current
to carry her higher into the air. In a moment, she saw Kendra
come gliding up beside her, “I’d like to fly a search pattern
over my land, make sure there’s nothing I missed earlier,” the
were-jaguar stated.
Demona slowed a little letting her take the
lead, “That would be nice, it’s very beautiful up here,” she
commented. “I don’t have nearly the amount of land around my
house that I wanted, but I couldn’t find anything else that had
a larger yard and was as nice without going much farther away
from the city.”
Kendra could hear the wistfulness in her
voice, “Earlier today I was thinking that I really needed to
come up at least twice a month to make sure everything is
alright with the land and herd,” she offered hesitantly glancing
over to see how Demona was reacting. Seeing that the gargoyle
looked thoughtful instead of disappointed, she continued with
more confidence, “I couldn’t tell if those dogs I chased off
today were feral or if they belong to someone who lets them run
loose so I’ll need to keep the scent markings I made today fresh
and keep an eye out for them.”
The flame haired gargoyle stared at her for
a long moment, she looked down at the wild land beneath them,
thought of the house they had just left and how comfortable
being there already felt to her, “I think that sounds like an
excellent idea.”
Night - Eyrie Building in Upper
Manhattan
“Hello Lexington,” Fox greeted the smallest
gargoyle from the rocking chair where she was feeding Alex.
When he whirled around and stuttered out an apology, she grinned
triumphantly at his back. The sight of her feeding the baby was
always enough to rattle the green gargoyle. “How are you doing
tonight?” she asked as if nothing particularly interesting was
going on.
“Um,” she could almost see the puzzled
frown on his face at the question, “I’m doing alright.”
“I noticed that Angela and Brooklyn are
arguing again, does that mean I need to worry about Demona
trying to shoot up the castle?” her voice was a carefully
crafted mixture of amusement and worry.
He actually turned his head half way round
toward her before remembering what she was currently doing, and
he quickly looked at the wall again. He wasn’t certain what to
say, Goliath hadn’t informed Xanatos or his mate about what they
had learned, so he shouldn’t say anything. However, he thought
there was a chance Demona might be angry with Puck as well as
the Weird Sisters, after all Puck did cast that spell on her,
and even though she benefited from it, the transformation hurt a
lot as well. That had become apparent to everyone during her
stay in the Labyrinth.
“Lexington,” now her tone was only worried,
“Is there something going on we need to know?”
“You should talk to Goliath,” he responded
weakly, he thought Goliath should tell them, after all Puck
might know something about the spirit Macbeth said returned
their memories.
The green gargoyle didn’t see her eyes
narrow on him, “I’ll do that,” she said firmly.
There were a lot of questions Lexington had
about Macbeth, Demona and Kendra Canmore that Goliath, Elisa and
Brooklyn hadn’t thought of because they were convinced
everything was just another plot of hers. If he was right and
Kendra Canmore had been asking the same spirit Macbeth had
talked about to take the spell off her cousin, then why hadn’t
the spirit taken the spells off Macbeth and Demona? From being
around Puck and Alexander when the older fey was teaching the
baby magic, he knew that a fey couldn’t remove the spells of
another fey, they could only modify them. That meant that for
the spirit to take the spell off Jon Canmore it was probably
more powerful than the fey who had cast it; surely then it could
take the spell off the two immortals as well. The only reason
he could think of that the spirit wouldn’t, was that Macbeth and
Demona didn’t want to be mortal, or perhaps they would die
instantly now if it were removed.
He was playing with Alex when Fox and
Goliath entered the nursery ten minutes later, “Lexington,” his
clan leader’s irritated voice summoned him. With one last fond
pat, the web-winged gargoyle carefully put the baby into his
crib before going over to where they were standing in the
doorway.
Lexington took one look at the deep frown
on the big male’s face and launched into his explanation, “If
Demona’s blaming the fey instead of the humans she might come
after Puck for putting the spell on her to change her into a
human during the day.”
“If Demona’s blaming the fey,” Fox repeated
alarmed; she glanced past the small green male at her child in
his crib, amusing himself by playing with his feet.
“Mmm,” Goliath rumbled following her gaze,
“I had not thought of that possibility,” he admitted staring
down at the smallest of the trio. Lexington was right,
considering that Demona had been willing to eradicate the entire
human race for what a few had done, it wasn’t unreasonable to
suppose she might now be just as vengeful against the fey and
Puck in particular along with the Weird Sisters. He could see
the small male relax, apparently thinking he was no longer in
trouble, “You should come to me with these concerns first
Lexington.” Sending Xanatos’s mate to him with her question had
been the right thing to do, but it would have been better if the
young male had brought his concerns to his clan leader earlier.
“Yes, Goliath,” the young male’s wings
drooped a little at the chastisement.
“What are you two talking about?” Fox asked
insistently, “Why would Demona decide to blame the fey for her
problems instead of humanity?”
Goliath stared at her thoughtfully,
“Perhaps we should find Xanatos and Puck before speaking of
this.”
Twenty minutes later Goliath finished
relating what little, and to his mind confusing, information
they had gathered from Macbeth on the Weird Sister’s role in his
and Demona’s past, and from what Elisa had overheard Kendra
Canmore saying about the three feys’ role in her family’s
history and their vendetta against the immortal gargoyle.
“Owen,” David looked over at the blond man,
“do you know anything about this?”
“The existence of such spirits or what the
Weird Sisters have been doing since the fey were banished from
Avalon?” Owen asked with a straight face.
“Both, either,” Fox interjected with a
frown, as far as she was concerned the time for Puck’s levity
had passed the moment there was the possibility of this
situation threatening her son.
Owen glanced at her, “There are spirits
that have intervened in the past when mortals were…” he
hesitated searching for the right word.
“Harassed, tormented,” offered David dryly.
The blonde man inclined his head, “A rather
interesting choice of words considering the subject,” he
commented grimly, “the latter of those two words would fit best
in the particular cases I am referring to,” he conceded.
Ignoring the surprised and dismayed looks on their faces, he
continued, “I do not have extensive knowledge of these spirits,
but what I do know indicates that they are very powerful and
potentially very deadly. Around two thousand and five hundred
years ago, we began finding the bodies of fey that had a
reputation for amusing themselves by,” he nodded in Xanatos’
direction, “harassing and tormenting mortals. From the wounds
on their bodies, they had been killed by a wild animal or in
some cases wild animals like a wolf pack. Since fey usually are
immune to such attacks, we knew that whatever type of animal
killed them was able to injure fey as if they were mortal.” He
paused looking pensive, “That was all we knew for almost a
thousand years until the day that one of the bodies had a note
on it informing us that if we would gather nearby we would be
informed of why they had been killed. Lord Oberon and Lady
Titania were expecting an attack; they arranged us as if for a
battle. We thought no one could approach without us knowing and
then he appeared in our midst to deliver the spirits’ message to
us.”
The blonde man fell silent apparently lost
in his thoughts, it was Fox that broke the silence to ask the
question, “He who?”
“The were-jaguar,” Owen responded. He
looked over at the large lavender male gargoyle, “He was as big
as Goliath, and moved so swiftly through us that we didn’t have
time to react to his presence before he seized Queen Titania by
the throat and ordered us to be still before his claws extended
any further than they already were. Lord Oberon commanded no
one to attack, as he was close enough to see that the creature
had already pricked her skin, drawing the smallest amount of
blood. That was enough for Oberon to realize that the creature
could kill her, we do not bleed from normal attacks. The
were-jaguar informed us that the spirits were displeased with
the fey race, that we were not created so that we could torment
the mortal races, nor had we been created to rule over them as
some of us seemed to believe. The creature told us that if we
continued on this path the spirit’s chosen would continue to
cull the worst of us until the survivors decided to cease their
tormenting of the mortal races.”
“Cull?” Xanatos sounded slightly shocked.
Owen’s face tightened as he grimaced, “That
was the word he used,” he confirmed. “It was not long after
that incident that Lord Oberon decreed that we were no longer to
interfere with the mortal races.”
“So what Macbeth said about the spirit was
true,” Lexington stated once Owen stopped speaking and before
anyone else could comment on the rather shocking information.
“Very likely,” the blonde man agreed
tersely.
“What I don’t understand,” Lexington said
thoughtfully, “is if Kendra Canmore was able to ask the spirit
to remove the Weird Sister’s spell from her cousin, why Demona
and Macbeth have any fey spells on them now.” He started pacing
back and forth, “I mean if the spirit could remove them from Jon
Canmore then why not them as well.” The web-winged gargoyle
didn’t seem to realize that everyone in the room was staring at
him wide eyed, “But Demona is still a human during the day so
obviously she still has your spell on her.” Lexington finally
stopped speaking and pacing to stare at Owen expectantly.
The blond man looked uncharacteristically
hesitant, “Perhaps not…”
“Owen?” David prompted at the man’s
continued silence.
Owen Burnett grimaced, “Understand that
what I’m about to tell you is mostly my conjecture based upon
the events that followed the were-jaguar’s appearance.” Xanatos
nodded and the blonde man continued, “A few of the less wise fey
decided that the humans, who had been tormented by the killed
fey, were responsible in some way for their deaths. They
determined that some of these humans were now immune to fey
enchantments and essentially invisible to our magical senses,
and the rest were using iron jewelry to protect themselves from
being enchanted once again. Whichever the case, the outcome was
the same in all cases, shortly after they attacked the humans
almost all of them were found dead, killed by wild animals like
the others that had died before.”
Owen turned toward Lexington, “So to answer
your question, if the spirit Macbeth is referring to is the same
type of spirit then it is doubtful that either Macbeth or Demona
are enchanted any longer. Since she’s still able to be a human
during the day, I’d say the spirit has provided some other means
for her to do so.” He paused just for a moment before adding,
“I would also expect to find that either or both are protected
by iron jewelry or are immune to having enchantments placed upon
them.”
Xanatos leaned back in his chair, “So we
need to determine whether the fey enchantments on Macbeth and
Demona have been removed. If they have, then that would mean
that what Macbeth told Goliath is the truth,” he looked
inquiringly at Owen.
The blonde man looked thoughtful, “It
should, another thing we can look for is if one or both of them
are now immune to being enchanted.”
“We are not involving Alex in this,” Fox
stated firmly, a protective glint in her eyes. “Not when these
spirits are capable of killing fey.”
David immediately shook his head, “I wasn’t
even considering it,” he quickly reassured her. He turned back
to Owen, “I was thinking a visit to Nightstone to see its CEO
might prove instructive.”
When everyone had left David’s office but
Fox, the two of them stared at one another for a second before
he commented, “Well that was rather more than I thought we would
learn. Spirits that can and will kill fey and Demona mixed up
with them.”
“It does rather change things,” Fox
commented seriously, “there’s a lot more going on here than just
the question of whether or not Demona is in a relationship with
Kendra Canmore. I’m not too thrilled about the possibility of
her starting a war with the fey.”
Xanatos nodded, his eyes narrowed and his
countenance serious, “Well the first step is to find out whether
or not Macbeth’s story is true, and whether the spirit he
mentioned is one of the same one’s Puck told us about. I’ll set
up an appointment to meet with Ms. Dominique Destine early next
week.”
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