The Faerie Queen
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Red Dragon Inn - Dragon's Mark -> Beyond the Veil

#31:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Mon Dec 25, 2017 11:06 pm
December 23, 2017

“There’s been talk already.”

The mid-afternoon sun cut through the curtains of her study, highlighting the silver threads in the thick, purple weave of the rug on the floor. Of course there had been talk. Jewell sighed, looking up at Haizea and Lavanya. She should get up; she should at least appear strong and in control, but she was so tired. “By the newer girls?”

Haizea shook her head, “No, not just from the newer girls. Samantha has been talking.”

“Samantha? Really?” Jewell cringed. That wasn’t good. Samantha was one of the first girls she had saved from the brothels. They had gone through so much together already. She had hoped that the loyalty of the original set of girls was unshakable.

“Not against you, though!” Lavanya was quick to cover up for her sister-in-arms and defend her.

“Lala,” Haizea shot her a glance, “you know that’s not true. She said if Ishmerai were here, we would have strong leadership, real leadership, and we’d be out there doing something.”

Lavanya scowled at her, “She didn’t mean it like that. She’s just frustrated.” She turned to look back at Jewell, “We all are.”

“I know. But you understand, don’t you? Both of you?” She looked between them. “We don’t stand a chance against them. Not yet. If we moved against one of them now? The other half would crush us. We can’t afford that. Not now. We just need to bide our time, as frustrating as that is. Once Ishmerai comes back--”

“If,” Lavanya interrupted her.

Jewell paled. I will be back. Nothing can stop me from returning to you. “When he comes back,” she repeated, speaking life into those words to make them come true, “then there will be hell to pay for what they have done.”

Lavanya hesitate before she finally spit out what was on her mind, “And in the meantime, we just let them pick us off one by one? We let them hurt our friends? Kill our family? And we do nothing?”

It was a game of chess: Jewell versus Belladonna. The faerie Empress had lost the first move, now she was losing her pawns, her knight was out of play, she had no king, and her queen was ailing. On the other hand, it appeared that Belladonna had clear command of the board. She had the Night Court on her side, and her queen seemed stronger than ever. She didn’t have a heart rotting of iron. Jewell seemed to be losing on all sides, but she had one advantage: two hundred years of her life lost to Faerie. She had learned to play the game there, and she knew how to win it.

If she made the right sacrifices, if she planned ahead, and if she somehow managed to live, she would win in the end.

And then she would burn their mother ****ing houses down.

“I’m sorry, Lavanya.”

#32:  Author: Death of ManCan Be Found: RhyDin PostPosted: Tue Dec 26, 2017 6:36 pm
December 25, 2017

Belladonna returned to the Tower of Gulshan for Christmas.

She walked the length of the second level, her black high heels echoing loudly in the concrete hallways. “Woops, careful there,” she said to herself with a breathy laugh, breaking the eerie quiet of the prison as she stepped over the remains of one of the guards. Most of them had fled or joined her noble cause. The rest were splattered across the walls, the perfect shade of red for Yuletide.

As she strolled through the tower, the locks on the doors clicked open behind her, and the large ring of keys jingled in her hand, giving her a bit of music to sing to.

Let there be peace in RhyDin
And let it begin with me.
Let there be peace in RhyDin
The peace that was meant to be.
Brothers and sisters all are we!
Let me walk with my sister
In perfect harmony.

On the fourth level, she came upon a guard crawling his way down the stairs, his arm pressed tightly across his stomach to keep his intestines inside. “Oh ho ho, what have we here?” Bella shoved him back up against the wall, straddling him. “Come on now, love. Won’t you sing with me? Let’s share a little Christmas cheer together.”

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.

She grabbed his face, moving his mouth to form the words with her hand even as blood gurgled past his lips. She kissed him as he took his last, agonizing breath, letting his blood stain her lips a fresh red before leaving him there and continuing on with her task.

Up up and up she went towards the higher levels where the dangerous criminals were kept. Where she had been kept. All those years spent waiting to have her revenge.

It was unfolding now. Slowly, gloriously.

With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow.
To take each moment
And live each moment
With peace eternally.

Oh, let there be peace in RhyDin,
And let it begin with me!

As the cells were unlocked, the inmates ran past her, shoving one another out of the way in their bid for freedom. One or two paused, grasping the short skirt of her sexy Mrs. Claus costume (complete with a Santa Claus hat) to thank her. She waved them off into the night with a genial smile and hearty laugh, “Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!”

When she reached the very top of the tower, she spun about and paused, reveling in the distant din of hurried footsteps retreating on the stairs, “And let’s make it a fabulously bloody New Year, shall we?”

#33:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Fri Dec 29, 2017 12:03 pm
December 26, 2017

His teeth grazed her neck, causing her to push him away. “No. Teddy, stop.”

Theo pulled her closer instead, his hand in her hair tightening as he angled her head, exposing just a little bit more of throat and pressing his lips to her still racing pulse. “Just a little Kiss,” he murmured. “I know you’ll like it.”

“I said no.” This time, she shoved him hard, leaving a few strands of white hair in his hand as she turned and sat up, her back to him. “I told you no last time.” The first time they had gone out, he had taken her to one of the most exclusive restaurants in RhyDin. They danced, drank, and ****ed in the car. By their fourth “date”, they skipped the polite, social pretenses in favor of taking over a hotel suite and testing the endurance of her heart for a few hours.

“But why?” He reached out, stroking her spine.

Jewell shrugged his hand away. “Because you can kill me. That’s why.” She sent him a challenging look over her shoulder, “But maybe that’s what you want? Deliver my body as a present for Belladonna, perhaps?”

“Of course not,” he protested smoothly as he drew up behind her, wrapping an arm around her petite frame and pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. “That bitch is crazy, and I don’t want to kill you. I’d much rather give you a new life and keep you forever. Wouldn’t that be nice, angel? No more worrying about that struggling heart of yours. No more worrying about anything at all. You would be whole and strong. The crowning adornment of the Night Court. Completely unstoppable. No one could stand in our way if we were together.”

Jewell closed her eyes as his lips worked their way up the slender slope of her shoulder with a series of feather light kisses, lulled by the subtle glamour in his words and the temptation he held out to her. No more pain. No more weakness. She was so tired of being weak and broken.

And alone.

He drew blood this time, the tiniest trickle down her neck, and the dream shattered around her. She elbowed him in the ribs, forcing him back so she could wiggle free of his grasp, swinging her legs off the side of the bed and getting up.

It was better to be alone.

“Mercy, angel.” Theo flopped dramatically across the bed, a teasing taste of her blood on his lips. He stared at her longingly as she move around the room, collecting her things and pulling her dress on over her head. “You slay me.”

“No darling,” she remarked with a cruel smile, stepping back to the side of the bed and leaning over to kiss his temple. “That’s what I’ll do if you try that again.”

#34:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Sat Dec 30, 2017 12:25 pm
December 28, 2017

“Hey Jewell, can you hand me a saucer? Preferably a red one. And, um... whiskey and a couple of shot glasses?”

“You're so odd,” the faerie remarked, shaking her head at Mallory’s request even if she was curious to see what she was up to. She had been lingering behind the bar for a half hour now, serving drinks like in the good ol’ days when she was the Empress, darling of the Red Dragon Inn. Abandoning her drink on the bar, she turned and dug through the teacups until she found a reddish colored one, holding it up for Mallory’s inspection, “Close enough?”

“Close enough.”

“Excellent.” Jewell set that down on the bar first and added a collection of mismatched shot glasses before looking over the bottles of whiskey. “Hmm…” her fingers danced over a few before selecting one and setting it out. “I accept compliments as tips.”

“I like your sweater.” Mallory looked up from the saucer, left ring finger currently poised against the rim. “It works well with those jeans.” Tip paid.

“Why thank you, Mallory!” She flashed her a bright smile; the only touch of glamour was in the corner there, that little bit that she couldn't ever truly banish. Then she bustled off, checking to see who needed what to drink.

Mallory’s gaze slid to one side, locked onto Eri's curious look, and she gave her a wink. Then to the other side, seeing Milo ducking his head, and she narrowed her eyes slyly. Then she whispered into the palm of her left hand, with the glass pendant dangling in slow, pendulous circles, faintly scratching the rim of the red saucer.

Eri was watching what Mallory was doing with the pendant and the cup closely. She tried to listen to the low words, but no sign of recognition seemed to cross her features. Fire rose from Mallory’s hand in little plumes like the petals of a flower, spilling gracefully when she tipped it, letting it settle into the saucer, hovering less than an inch over it. The flame itself was about three inches high, and rather wide, though it gave off no more heat and light than a simple candlelight.

Jewell sent a curious glance to the magic Mallory was performing. “Pretty…” was all she said though as she set Mist’s glass on the bar in front of him and the bottle of cognac too just in case.

There was the faintest shimmer in the air above the flame, something more than the distortion of heat: a subtle thinning of the Veil, thin enough that one with the right skill (and a little bit of luck) might divine the future by peering into the flame. The witch tickled and plucked at the air around the little spell, verifying that it was, in fact, stable, before she spared a smile for Mist when he joined them at the bar. He got a wink, too.

Eri’s eyes were sharp enough to spot the shimmer in the air, but she didn't have the knowledge to discern any of its nature. She seemed pleased by the spell all the same, admiring the light with a grin. Jewell looked back at it over the rim of her tankard as she took a sip, brows knit together just a touch. It drew the attention of others too. Cane gave a curious (and mildly suspicious) quirk of a brow in Mallory's direction. Distortion had a habit of rippling outward like water rings. He could feel when it reached him. “The **** 're you doing over there?”

“If anyone would like a glimpse of their future,” Mallory said in a clear voice, as she passed her fingers through the magical flame, “you have but to ask.” Though a nearby Marketplace Monocerus shotglass was snagged and turned upright nearby, something for any payment or tips, should anyone take her up on the offer. Maybe that would do for an explanation for the Cajun! Still. “Divination,” she offered to Cane with a shrug.

“Nope!” Cane announced abruptly, lifting the beer for a long pull. Sal was well aware of Mallory’s spell playing, but left the questioning to other people. However, he did snort at the offer of having his fortune told.

There was only a smile for Cane and Sal in response, neither taunt nor reproach in Mallory’s gaze as it moved on from the pair of them. There were reasons enough to decline or dismiss the offer of a skilled pythoness. Eri thought about it for a moment, but made no request for a reading. She did reach for the whiskey at last however, taking a modest sip for now as she watched. Jewell tried to ignore Mallory’s offer, but her eyes kept shifting back over to the little flames. Without realizing it, her fingers flitted over the spot just beneath her ribs where a iron-wound scar was hidden by her sweater.

“It is funny to think you had once been a bartender. You are much more than that, now.” Mist noted to Jewell, humorous and quiet.

She chuckled a little at Mist’s comment, glad for the distraction. “Yes, I suppose I am. Always good to have a fallback job though, right?”

“You’re laughter on the wind and the light behind the moon, what else would you need?” Mist responded, lyric, eyes closing for a moment, his smile warm for the moment it lasted.

Her smile for Mist was fleeting; his words oddly deciding something for her. “I want to be the light of the sun and stars too.” Abandoning her drink, Jewell moved down the bar to stand in front of Mallory. Cane eyed Jewell obliquely as she approached the witch, then looked quickly away. No. No, he didn't want to know.

The faerie crooked her finger, leaning forward to whisper something to Mallory, who turned her head to catch her words.

“Find me the day when my heart will stop.”

Mallory looked at the fae... and nodded slowly, splaying her right hand on the countertop next to the flame as she peered into it. She let her gaze go unfocused... then sharp again... and she shook her head faintly. “Too far... down a twisted, jagged road nine years long…” No, no, the answer itself would not be spoken aloud, merely her senseless ramblings as she tried to focus on her goal.

“Holy cannolis! Are you tending bar?”

Mallory’s eyes snapped to Mairead reflexively at her exclamation, losing the thread of the will-o-wisp's flame. Hmmm. Jewell straightened up from her lean and reluctantly gave Maggie her attention momentarily. “I can get you something, but I'm mostly just hanging out back here now.”

“May I have an apple juice, please?” Maggie set some coins on the counter.

“Sure…” She replied, distracted, eyes on Mallory and those flames even as she went to fetch the apple juice. She grabbed a grape juice first, setting it on the bar before she realized her mistake. An apple juice quickly joined it. She took up her spot opposite Mallory immediately, muscles tense.

“Thank you!” Maggie grinned and took the juice.

Mallory looked away from the girl, biting her lip thoughtfully... then pricked her left ring fingertip on a thorny silver ring, and drew a slow circle in the air over the saucer. What fell through the air may have been blood, but what settled and congealed on the dish was drops of deep red candlewax. She blinked slowly, once; twice; thrice, and her eyes were the same color red. She held her gaze that way until the count of three, shut her eyes, and exhaled slowly. The flame died down lower, cooler, dimmer.

Jewell studied the drops of red wax, unknowingly holding her breath. Her heart beat rapidly. Mallory’s eyes slitted open, an ordinary shade of green again, and she leaned across the bar and cupped her hand to the faerie's ear.

“The last heartbeat of the very last second of the Feast of Saint Valentine.”

Jewell’s exhale was half laughter and full of bitterness. She stepped back, paler than she had been just moments ago. “Well **** that's irony for you, huh?”

Mallory lifted her chin a few degrees, ticked a look over at Eri, and back at Jewell. “That's when we get it done.” She could rationalize indulging in a little optimism for arrogance’s sake. Eri was stirring around in spite of a couple sips of whiskey, looking faintly anxious for a moment. Though the tone she heard Mallory use seemed to put her at ease enough to sit still at least. She smiled when she saw the witch look over her way for a moment.

Jewell smile was a feint, pure affectation. She felt sick to her stomach. “Pretty fitting, I suppose.” Mallory nodded faintly. Peering ahead that far, with that degree of precision... was giving her a hell of a headache, so she may have missed a few things about Jewell's tone and expression. She scooped up her shot and drained it.

A year to the day. So little time left. Oh Kal, why couldn’t you have just left me for dead that night? Why why why? Jewell took another step back away from the witch, vaguely aware of how the room seemed to be spinning around with her thoughts. It was an automatic gesture, the way she fished a pill out of the thin case in her back pocket and popped it under her tongue. The bitter taste was a strange, familiar comfort.

Eri watched Mal take another drink, and followed suit herself. She was shrugging off the anxious tension that had settled into her. “Being alive isn't even safe, after all,” she said to herself in a low murmur, then nodded as she thought about her own words.

“It's the most dangerous state to be in, by definition.” She cut a grin over at Eri, then hesitated over pouring herself another shot of whiskey. “Unless you're a vampiric thrillseeker, I guess. Racing the sunrise. Mooning paladins. Hanging around wood-carvers.”

Hearing that list of activities made Eri snicker, deciding against a third whiskey for the time being at least. She did get up to fetch a cola out of the icebox though, bringing another for Mal while she was at it. “I guess thrill seeking is one way they might cope,” she piped in her singsong.

Jewell laughed, though it was more because she heard the tone of Mallory and Eri’s exchange than what they actually said. “Yeah…” Her contribution to the conversation was at an end. It was an effort to focus on the here and now and people around her. She was counting down the minutes of her life. “Think I over-extended myself bartending. Not as sharp as I used to be, maybe.” That was her only explanation before she moved towards the break in the bar. Remembering something at the last moment though, she pulled the true-silver cuff bracelet off her wrist and set it in front of Mallory. “Thank you.” Then she was on the move, heading for the stool that held all her stuff.

Slender fingers closed around the bracelet, and murmured her thanks to Eri as she chased the soda. She wasn't looking at the jewelry yet, instead watching the fae as she retrieved her things. Until she glanced down at her payment, and its intricate design and tiny, shimmering stones, and realized how much it must be. "****ing *****!" Eri jumped in alarm a bit as she heard Mal’s exclamation. Then she was peering over to see what had brought on the surprised reaction. Her own eyes widened a bit at the jewelry.

Jewell grabbed her jacket, scarf, hat, all the winter gear but didn't bother to put it on. She only paused long enough to look over to Mallory at her reaction. “It was my mother’s.” Might as well give it away. She was a goner anway. There was no way Ishmerai would make it back to RhyDin before Valentine’s Day no matter the promises the knight had offered to her.

She headed for the door, awkwardly pulling her jacket on as she went. It meant she dropped her gloves though. Jewell bent down, grabbing them off the floor before brushing past those at the door--careful not to touch them--and stepping out into the frigid night.

Cane twisted on the stool to watch Jewell’s hasty retreat. Brows furrowed, his gaze shifted from the faerie to Mallory. What just happened? Sal turned a concerned look on Jewell too. He had likewise totally missed something. Mallory frowned at the bracelet, and at Jewell’s retreating back... and finally put the trinket away. Biting her lower lip, frowning as she thought. She caught Eri with another quiet look, and then Cane.

“Mal,” Eri asked directly. “Is she okay?” Mallory shook her head at Eri. Very slightly, but it was there. Eri stirred around a little on her seat again, the furrowing of her brow indicating some distress. Then her jaw took a firmer posture, expression becoming more determined. “Well we have to do something then.”

Cane might've muttered the word ‘stupid’ somewhere while finishing off his first beer. Then he got off his stool and ambled over to Mallory, pulling out his wallet along the way. “Give me that.” He meant the bracelet she’d put away--and no, he wasn't asking. Calloused fingers dug out several bills for compensation. Meanwhile, Salvador kept his ass firmly planted on his stool. Spine to edge of bar, elbows on the counter, staring at the door like he expected Jewell to come back in, or like he was seriously considering hunting her down to personally see if she was all right.

Cane actually caught Mallory just as she was hitting send on a text. “Oh. I, uh -- I wasn't gonna --” Here. It was easier just to show him her screen.

Text to Sapphire: your here-mom misplaced one of her bracelets. I have it.
Text to Sapphire: I can give it to you next time we meet up

The blue haired faerie, away in a different dimension and time, replied while the phone was turned to Cane.

Text to Mallory: One, it's so cool this works even though I'm not there
Text to Mallory: Two, is it nice?
Text to Mallory: Think she'll notice if I keep it?
Text to Mallory: Pics please

His lips mashed together in a hard line, jaw tense as he scanned the screen. Cane grunted in response, but held his hand out for the trinket anyway. “I'm going to find her now.” There was a brief pause where he remembered his manners, saying, “Please?”

Well, that sounded like his cue. Salvador slid off the seat of his stool, stood. He still had a beer in hand as he prowled sedately to the door, and out. He'd wait outside for the Cajun, and see then if Cane wanted him to tag along or not.

“Yeah.” Mallory gave her boss a trusting look as she dug out the bracelet, pressing it into his hand. “Later... we can talk about it.” The back of his hand got a single, reassuring pat.

Even though he'd seen that Mallory intended to give the bracelet back, he still dropped a handful of bills on the counter beside her after stowing the bracelet in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Thanks, Mal.” The witch let out a low whistle at the bills. These, at least, she wouldn't refuse. These were going straight into the mortgage. She folded them up, putting them away as long, purposeful strides carried Canaan to the door. “We’ll talk later.” Confirmation for the girl on his way out to the Spaniard. They’d go capture a faerie together.

Hunting faeries is what Salvador was built for. He was totally down. More than happy to help, actually.

((Adapted from live play in the Red Dragon Inn on December 28, 2017. Many thanks to everyone who participate in this spontaneous scene.))

#35:  Author: Death of ManCan Be Found: RhyDin PostPosted: Wed Jan 03, 2018 12:51 pm
December 30, 2017

Belladonna’s Christmas present came a few days late, but it was oh-so-sweet and worth the wait.

“So she thinks her time is running out already, does she?”

“Yes,” the woman kneeling in front of her confirmed, head bowed. “She sent her knight, Ishmerai, to Faerie over a week ago but has heard nothing of him. And it seems something has shaken her.”

“Why?” Belladonna asked sharply. “Why did she send him there?”

She shook her, “I don’t know. To get something to help her heart, but she will not say what. But it has to be that. She keeps talking about when she is better, when she is stronger. That she will make her move eventually, but not yet. Not until Ishmerai returns. And whatever it is, the witch helped her figure it out. Mallory St. Martin?”

“Yes, I know of the witch.” Belladonna smiled. Perhaps she should pay dear Mallory a visit.

“Ishmerai and the witch went to Faerie together. When they came back, he told us he was going away again. That we were to watch over his lady. Guard her with our lives. Keep her alive until he came back.”

“Mmm…” the faerie reclined on her sette, trailing her hand along the rich weave of the carpet. “But she thinks time is running out…” she wondered out loud, musing over what that could mean. Her dear Jewellsie’s heart was ailing badly. Belladonna could already taste death around her when last they were together, but the woman had yet to make a move against her. What was she waiting for? What did she think was going to save her? “Did she say when? When she thinks her time is up?”

“She didn’t. She just said soon.” Despite some reservations, her sisters still had faith in the Empress. They were content to do nothing and let their enemies pick them off one by one all with the reassurance that soon Jewell would act in their behalf and bring an end to Belladonna and the Night Court.

Soon they would have their vengeance.

Soon they would be safe.

It wasn’t soon enough.

“I see. Thank you my pet. When the little Empress breathes her last, you shall have your reward for your assistance. This I promise.”

“Thank you… my queen.”

Belladonna dismissed the cowering House of Summer girl with a wave and turned to look for her knight hidden in the shadows of the room. “Betel darling?”

“Yes my queen?”

“Find me The Seer. I would like to know what delights the New Year will bring me. And when.”

#36:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Wed Jan 03, 2018 10:26 pm
December 31, 2017

With a little nudge in the right direction from Janel, the Finder in her employ, Jewell sought Mallory in the Old Temple district library. She ran her fingers along the spine of a few passing books as she wandered down the quiet aisles after a reminder from the librarian that they were closing early today. It was New Year’s Eve afterall. Jewell had a handful of things to get done before the party tonight, and she hadn’t exactly slept last night thanks to Mathis (not that she minded that), but she kept her word in seeking out Mallory. She owed the witch thanks and more.

She found her kneeling among the stacks, accruing a tiny pile of books on Slavic folklore. Her head was bent to another one open in her lap, one finger curled to a passage as she quietly murmured her way through the Latin translation; on the facing page was an image of a majestic bird, its massive wings open and ablaze with a strange fire.

Jewell cleared her throat to give away her presence before leaning over to admire the picture of the bird, “I’ve always felt a kinship with the phoenix myself.”

Mallory had heard someone approaching, though she was surprised to hear Jewell’s voice. She looked up at her and smiled faintly. “I can see that.” She tapped her finger against the illustration and explained, “Zhar-ptitsa, the firebird. Little different from the phoenix, but I wonder if it’s based on the same stories… and I told someone I’d try to figure that out. I probably should have charged her for it, but… here I am.”

Her eyes narrowed slyly, falling back to the book long enough to mark her place and put it away with the others. “Maybe I’ll find a better way to conjure flames in these pages, and it’ll make the whole thing worthwhile… My little token,” dropping her thumb to the warped, smoky glass pendant on her necklace, “can only do so much.”

“Or maaaaybe,” Jewell leaned carefully against the nearest shelves, “some rich benefactor who probably owes you a lot of money will show up like in the folk tales and gift you something to replace the bracelet you returned?”

The witch let the glass pendant fall against her collarbone and stood to face the faerie, silent for a long moment as she held Jewell’s gaze, though her expression was thoughtful, not challenging. “It was your mother’s… That’s… not the kind of price I want to take from someone.”

Jewell nodded slowly, examining the toe of her boots before looking up to meet Mallory’s gaze. “Thank you. I was not thinking clearly at the time.” She smiled faintly. It was an understatement. “And now I found myself in your debt once more, Mallory. What would you have of me?”

The witch turned her head to listen to the rest of the library. Paper shuffling at the front desk. Quiet footsteps downstairs and across the room. The same pair of bodies she’d seen in those places an hour ago. Still, she chose her words carefully. “Safiya and I want to start a… kind of a bookstore, and a place of learning. I think we’ll call it the Lyceum. But property costs a lot of money… at least, to someone like me, and someone like her. Once this is done, and I’ve finished what I said I’m going to do for you… I’d like to start making preparations to open the Lyceum. Does that sound fair to you? Full ownership of a commercial property we can use to sell magical supplies, and take on a few students.”

Her teeth worked at the inside of her cheek, weighing the price of the tasks completed and in process with the cost being asked of her. There had to be a balance. “Mal,” Jewell glanced around them and lowering her voice appropriately, “you are trying to save my life and you have done me a service. I’m not sure that that would be enough -- ”

“The Vitaeum.” The witch leaned closer to the faerie now, meeting her gaze with an intensity she’d only shown her once before: when she asked to read the ancient tome of life and death among the first fae. “One day I’m going to ask for it again, for my own ends, and I’d like you to lend it to me for as long as I need… no questions asked, no secrets shared.” Her eyes flared, and some of the intensity passed from her gaze, replaced by the gentle curve of a smile. To her, at least, it felt balanced: one eternal life for another. “An arcane bookshop and the use of your family’s grimoire as my reward. Fair?”

Jewell was uncomfortable with Mallory’s intensity, but this request would even the scales. She searched Mal’s face, her hesitation born out of worry for the witch. She had grown so much in the year of their acquaintance, and there she had so much potential. But she was young, and Jewell was genuinely concerned where this path would take her. “Mallory,” she started, quietly and concerned, “I will not deny you your request but is it really wise to meddle in such magic?”

“No,” she said, “except that the alternative is dying. I’ve already had a taste of that, and I’m not interested,” she added with a slow shake of her head. “It won’t be today. I don’t think it will be a year from now. It could be in a few decades. But one day, when I’m ready, I want to use my blood magic to its full potential… circumvent death, without embracing undeath.”

Giving voice to the ambitions that had been lurking in the witch’s darkest dreams since she’d first spoken with the dead and seen what lay beyond made her pulse quicken and her mouth dry, but it curled her empty hands into determined fists because it made so much sense. After everything she had seen, and what she would be capable of in the years to come, she could not imagine it coming to anything else.

Undeath. Theo’s offer replayed in Jewell’s mind: “I’d much rather give you a new life and keep you forever.” With a sigh, the faerie slid down to the ground, her back pressed against the stack of books behind her. She looked up, staring at the ceiling. There must have been a water leak at some point; the tiles were stained. “Yeah, dying is a bit of a drag isn’t it?”

Jewell had tasted death so many times now, and with the great lengths she had gone through to avoid it, what right did she have to prevent Mallory from doing the same one day? When she looked back at Mallory, her grey eyes were still troubled but she had relented. “He’ll be seriously upset and impossible to live with if you get yourself killed trying something from that grimoire.” The knight was rather protective of the young woman.

The witch sank to a kneel again, bringing her face to Jewell’s level. “He’ll be impossible to deal with if either of us kick off for any reason,” she said, and held out a hand to her as she gave her an imploring look. “But neither of us has to die.”

“Perhaps.” Jewell was sure that at least one of them didn’t have to die. She offered her hand out to take Mallory’s, shaking it firmly. “You can have your shop and the loan of the grimoire regardless of how this turns out. If it doesn’t work, it won’t be your fault.” She hadn’t asked her lover to kill her.

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll feed Belladonna’s heart to the pigs instead.” Despite the macabre declaration, the smile that Mallory gave Jewell was almost playful. “We owe her at least that much.”

“You know,” the faerie laughed, “it’d almost be worth dying again just to make that happen.”

((Co-written with my favorite witch!))

#37:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Wed Jan 03, 2018 11:11 pm
January 2, 2018

He had left a key for her downstairs. Jewell tucked it into her coat pocket, choosing to knock on the hotel room door instead. She leaned close to it, purring in her most sultry voice, “Room service for Lord Ténèbres.”

Theo pulled open the door and stood aside for her. She stepped into the lavish suite, ignoring the goosebumps that raced down her arms when he closed the door and clicked the lock behind her. “I knew you’d change your mind about getting drinks at the bar first,” she shrugged out of her jacket, throwing it on the chair in the small foyer and turning to smile at him.

The backhand caught her on her cheek and she stumbled back in her black high heels. The only thing that kept her on her feet at all was years of training in the Duel of Fists and an unfortunate history of abuse. Even still, such experience only went so far. Jewell saw stars and gasped in surprise and pain, leaning forward and cupping her hand to her cheek. Theo was kindred. He was physically stronger than she was even at full health.

She looked at her hand. He had made her bleed. “What…”

The scent of her blood stoked his simmering anger into a jealous rage. Jewell was just straightening up to face him when he wrapped his hand around her throat, pinning her back against the closet door so that it rattled loudly. “Why were you at the rave with him?”

She clawed at his hand, panic momentarily overcoming reason at the sudden lack of oxygen. She had made a clear tactical error. Théodore Ténèbres was a monster in a man’s skin. A territorial monster. Of course showing up publicly with Sinjin at a party of the kindred had enraged him, and it had nothing to do with the trouble they had caused together or the fact that she was even there. It was that she was there with the darling Sinner when she was so clearly marked as his own.

She struggled to think of a response, something to charm him out of his anger and soothe his rage, but only came up with a distressed, gasping sound. He shoved her back against the closet door again, cracking the wood, before letting her go. Jewell sunk to the floor, wheezing painfully, trying to remember how to breathe at the same time as she struggled to restrain herself from tearing him apart right then and there. It would be so easy. He had fed recently enough that she could feel the blood coursing through his body, calling to her. She could grab hold of it, ripping him to pieces and showering the hotel room in the lifeblood he had stolen.

And in return, she would bring the full anger of the Night Court down upon herself.

That thought stayed her hand. It was too early in the game. She would have to kill him later. Right now, she had to survive.

He grabbed her by her arm and yanked her to her feet before shaking her. “Did you hear me?” He was likely shouting at her the whole time, but she didn’t have a clue what he had said. Her head was pounding, her throat hurt, her heart beat unevenly in her chest, and his fingers were pressing painfully into her bicep as he shook her again. “Did he charm you?”

“Yes, of course he charmed me,” she snapped at him. “By being a gentleman and not a ****ing bastard like you.”

Theo actually laughed, “Ahh there’s my feisty little faerie.” He let go of her, planting his forearm against the closet door above her head to trap her in a smooth, predatory lean instead. “Did this mean old bastard hurt you, angel?” He seemed to enjoy the thought.

“You did,” Jewell responded stiffly, twisting her head as if looking away from him in anger. It had the planned effect of putting the new cut along her cheekbone on prominent display.

“I’m sorry.” Gently now, he used his thumb to brush a bit of blood from her cheek, examining it curiously. “You just drive me crazy, you know? You’re so…” he licked the blood off his finger, savoring the taste of her with a shiver, “delicious.”

The faerie smiled as if pacified and even pleased by his apology--it was a shame she likely couldn’t kill a vampire through strangulation because that would be so satisfying--and tilted her head to kiss him, ignoring the taste of her own blood on his lips. He growled low against her mouth, pinning her back against the closet door.

His desire was a start, but she needed something more from him. She needed to bewitch him so thoroughly and completely that he forgot all about the New Year’s incident and that he’d ever heard the name Sinjin Fai. She needed to keep him hooked long enough to bring the Night Court crashing down around him. Jewell broke her lips away from his, catching the outer curve of his ear playfully with her teeth and (incidentally) exposing her slender throat to him before offering in a breathy whisper, “If I’m so delicious, why don’t you try a little taste?”

He groaned and without any hesitation, his mouth was at her throat, teeth grazing the bruises already forming there. The bruises he had given her.

She didn’t care about those though.

She didn’t care about anything once he Kissed her.

#38:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Sat Jan 06, 2018 3:17 pm
January 3, 2018

“Angel,” he whispered reverential and confused, “what did you do to me?”

“Mmm?” Jewell half turned in the king size bed and looked blearily at Théodore sitting on the edge of it, staring down at his hands. She snuggled right back down against her pillow again, her head spinning. She felt terrible this morning. Her limbs were weak and heavy and her heart beat a tremulously. It was all worth it though. “I thought you would recognize a blood bond when you felt one, Teddy,” she admonished sleepily.

“A blood bond…” he echoed in disbelief. “How is that possible?”

Apparently, they were having this conversation now. With a noise of frustration, Jewell rolled over to face him, propping herself up on an elbow with her cheek cradled in the palm of her hand. “Darling, you really should do your research before you start ****ing with a faerie let alone Kissing one.”

She was lucky that it had worked on the first try. It had been a game of chance with some serious risks, notably that he wouldn’t stop feeding on her once he started, but Mallory’s divination had given her reasonable assurance that she would survive his Kiss. He could have gone into torpor though, or decorated the room with blood as he vomited everywhere, or suffered from hallucinations like the last person that had dared Kiss her. She wondered idly what had happened to the Rose as she watched understanding dawn on Theo’s handsome features.

“No,” he shook his head numbly. “No, this can’t be. My father… he will be furious.”

“Oh yeah, huh?” Jewell flopped onto her back, grinning at the ceiling. “That’s a real bummer.”

He didn’t seem to hear the amusement in her tone as he stood and made his way around the room in a distracted manner, collecting his clothes. “I have to go. This is… this is…”

Beyond perfect, she thought. Good luck trying to break a blood bond with a sídhe, bitch. You’re mine now.

#39:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Mon Jan 08, 2018 3:36 pm
January 7, 2018

“What do you mean you haven’t made plans yet?” The way Sapphire swung the chef knife around in exasperation was almost comical. At least she wasn’t crying anymore. There had been a bad moment earlier when Jewell had revealed to her what Mallory had divined--“The last heartbeat of the very last second of the Feast of Saint Valentine.”--but the girl bounced back quick. “What is wrong with you?”

Jewell was sitting on one of the kitchen bar stools, watching the young woman at work. She’d been in the house less than two hours and already the pantry was restocked, there was a pan of banana bread in the oven, and Sapphire was chopping up vegetables to add to the two pots of soup on the stove. “I didn’t see the point in planning anything yet,” Jewell admitted somewhat begrudgingly. The Empress did not owe this feisty young woman (or anyone else) an explanation or justification even if she was wielding a large knife, but it was nice to have someone to confide in once more. “There’s not much time. If he doesn’t come back with the basin--”

“Mother of Nature,” she brushed some blue hair back out of her face with her forearm before continuing to chop a row of carrots with extra vigor, “have some faith in the man, will you? He’ll be back. And that crazy bitch isn’t just going to hand over her heart if we ask for it, so we’ve gotta make some plans.”

Jewell fell silent, unwilling to argue and somewhat abashed at Sapphire’s reproof because it was true. She had lost faith. It wasn’t all at once, but little by little it had been chipped away from her. But the knight had promised: “I will be back. Nothing can stop me from returning to you.” He had promised to help her last year too before he had been blown to pieces by a bomb, but she was trying not to hold that against him.

“Ugh fine, I guess we can make some plans,” she finally conceded, slumping forward, her elbows supporting her on the counter. Sapphire would surely excuse her lack of excitement; she had made plans last year to save her life, and that clearly hadn’t turned out so well.

“Woohoo! Plan time! I’ll start.” She dumped the carrots into one of the pots, wiped her hands off on her apron, and grabbed a pen. Grabbing the notebook she had used to make a shopping list earlier, she tore off the top sheet and tossed it in the trash. “You stir, I write,” she instructed the faerie, leaning forward on the counter.

“So demanding!” Still, Jewell dragged herself off the stool and came around the counter peninsula, grabbing one of the wooden spoons next to the stove. “Just stir?”

“Yep, just stir. I don’t trust you to do anything else.” Sapphire started writing, penning TEAM AWESOME across the top of the fresh notebook page in giant letters. “Gimme the names. Who do we got? Who’s the dream team that’ll willingly go toe-to-toe with the other Jewell? Canaan? Salvador?” She was already jotting down their names without waiting for confirmation: Scary Sal and Green Man.

Jewell stirred the pot of soup distractedly (this is why no one let her cook), thinking. It was a similar question to what she had asked herself last year when faced with the threat of her true name being used: who was skilled enough and strong enough and brave enough (or *** crazy) to face a sídhe in a fight? “I guess Sal… but things are weird between Canaan and I right now.”

“Then un-weird them.” Duh!

She shook her head, “It’s not that simple.”

Sapphire rolled her eyes, “You’ll have to update me on your nocturnal activities and all the intricacies later. Right now, we’re busy trying to save your life and Canaan is on the list. Who else do we got?”

“Mallory will have to be involved to some degree.”

“Right. Duh.” Badass Witch joined the list and was quickly followed by a doodle of a heart and Eri. “All the Summer girls too, right?”

“Yeah, probably.” House of Summer was added to the list. “Don’t forget Issy, of course.”

“Oh, she’d never forgive us for that,” Sapphire laughed.

“And Sinjin too.”

“Oh yeah?” Sapphire arched a brow at Jewell as she wrote Mighty Isuelt on the paper. “You trust him that much already?”

Jewell shrugged, switching the wooden spoon to her other hand so she could keep stirring, somewhat suspicious that Sapphire given her busy work to do since the soup didn’t seem to be benefitting from all this stirring. “I trust him.”

“Oookay,” she strung the word, clearly unconvinced, but jotted his name down anyway: Sexy Sin. “Just remember that the last guy you trusted with your life got us into this mess.”

#40:  Author: Death of ManCan Be Found: RhyDin PostPosted: Mon Jan 08, 2018 4:21 pm
January 8, 2018

Belladonna was slouched on a chair, listening to the wind whistle and hiss through the broken glass panes. The offices of House of Summer Inc. had seen better days. The windows had been smashed, and what little office furniture left behind had been piled in the center of the lofty space and burned a few weeks ago. Earlier, she had cleared out the riff raff fae that had been squatting in the space and given her knight strict instructions that she was not to be disturbed. She needed to think.

And yet… “My queen?”

“What is it?”

“A message for you.”

She sighed. Being a queen was so tedious sometimes. “This better be important.”

“The girl is here. In the city.”

She suddenly perked up, spinning her swivel chair around to face the chitinous knight. “Is she now? Well well…” That was a pretty solution to her current problems. The lord of the Night Court was being rather difficult these days all because of that pathetic son of his. He was furious at what Jewell had done. On the other hand, Belladonna was actually a little jealous that she hadn’t thought of attempting to blood bond the boy to her. It was a masterful stroke, really. A move deserving of admiration.

And to repaid in kind.

“What do you think, Betel darling? Perhaps we should have her for dinner while she’s in town.”

#41:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Wed Jan 10, 2018 10:01 pm
January 9, 2018

“Remember -- no carnitas on the first date!”

“Or refried beans,” Sapphire laughed, spinning about on the heel of her boot. “Tell Eri she has to come with us next time, okay? And maybe we’ll hit up the Dragon later this week.” The witch’s shouted reply was lost in the rumble of a passing truck as Sapphire turned the corner, heading towards the sanatorium entrance tucked between a seamstress shop and Gadgets and Gears in Old Market.

She hummed a few notes of the music that had been playing in the restaurant, dreaming up a way to incorporate the vibrant, mariachi beats into the fantasy-rock tunes she usually played and wondering if she should text the waiter who had jotted his number down for her. He was pretty cute, and she was going to be in town a few days.

By the time she reached the passthrough between Grant Ave. and West Market, she had decided on texting him. She pulled out her phone, pausing a moment to find the receipt with his number on it. “Six. Seven. Five…” she read off, entering it in her phone and moving again. She only paused when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her and the hairs on the back of her neck raised. She glanced back. No one was there.

“Judith?” The brunette from House of Summer was supposed to be tailing her tonight. “Sammy?” Nothing. That was a little unsettling. Sapphire rolled her shoulders, focusing on her text message as she stepped out onto West Market and looked up.

“Hello poppet,” Belladonna smiled at her.

Sapphire hit send.


Having had enough socializing for one week after her foray into the Inn and Annex last night, Jewell opted to stay home for the night, curling up in the corner of the couch in the living room. Like most nights, every single light was blazing bright as she poured over some trashy romance novel Sapphire had insisted she read. It was pretty entertaining. As she turned the page, a blush stole over her cheeks. Fabio was hott--even if she wasn’t a fan of elves these days--with his long, flowing hair and finely toned pectorals. Maybe she needed to finish this in the bathtub with a glass of wine.

Her comm device buzzed on the table next to her.

Text from Little Blue: Help. Old Market door.


She was barefoot, wearing the jeans and “I Do Believe in Faeries” t-shirt she had been in all day. The bitter taste of medicine was on her tongue and her heart beat wildly inside her chest: This is foolish. This is foolish. This is foolish. It didn’t matter. Sapphire needed her, and going out there to save her would not mean Jewell’s death. Not tonight. Mallory’s divination gave her a sense of security.

It also made her reckless.

“I thought you said Old Market!” Lavanya shouted at her, running to keep up as Jewell dashed down the hall.

She ignored her, touching the Dragon’s Gate door, checking to see if anyone was on the other side, before yanking it open and stepping out into the freezing night. Lavanya hovered in the doorway behind her, watching. Checking her phone for Sapphire’s location, Jewell slipped it into her back pocket and then reached up, tearing apart the Veil like tissue paper.

She looked back at the blonde, “I don’t want them to see me coming.”

Then she stepped through.

#42:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Thu Jan 11, 2018 11:14 pm
West Market Street was normally empty once the shops and stalls closed down for the day. Tonight, it was seeing some after-hours action. There were four fae standing in a loose circle and another dead on the ground along with a single canine cù-sith, circling the group and growling, eager for a bite. There was a knight in chitinous armor facing a blue haired young woman, beating her back with a broadsword. The girl was holding her own with the long, iron-tipped axe in her hand, but there were cuts on her face, arms, and legs.

And there was one bitch of a sídhe, dancing around the pair: cheering on the knight and pushing the girl closer to her opponent when she strayed too far. “What’re you going to do, girlie? She’s going to get you! She’s going to get you!”

Belladonna was only aware of Jewell half a second before anyone else noticed her stepping out from Elsewhere and into the fray. She was mid-turn when the knife, palmed as quick as magic, was driven into the mad sídhe’s side. “No!” Betel shouted, turning her attention from Sapphire and turning her blade on Jewell instead.

Sapphire exploited the opening as soon as she saw it, her axe humming, the energy blade igniting as she drove it deep into the knight’s exposed back. Betel dropped to the ground with a grunt, freeing Jewell to turn her attention to Belladonna’s four fae lackeys. She caught Sapphire’s eye as she did. Run. The young woman hesitated for just a moment before taking off.

“After her!” Belladonna ordered the cù-sith, hissing as she pulled the knife from her side. The hound growled and shot forward to chase down the girl.

Jewell flung her hand outwards in response, seizing control of its massive body as it leapt past her and tossing it against the nearest building, cracking brick and mortar. It fell to the ground hard, and a pile of rubble fell on top of it. “Keep your ****ing hands off my daughter.”

Every act of magic felt like it shaved years off her life, and the rapid beat of her heart was the music for her deadly dance. Jewell performed a violent piroutte, turning and ducking to avoid the first fae coming at her. His razor tipped claws caught her face as they passed. At such close proximity, the thin beam of energy she shot neatly through his gut like a bullet sprayed blood across the night and dropped the unseelie fae to the ground. Halfway through her turn, she rose up and seized the blood inside the other two fae coming near, ripping them apart in a shower of vitae. Almost done with her spin, she pulled the blood out of the air as it fell, forming it into a frozen short sword with which she cut down the fourth and final fae even as he scored a shallow cut across her ribs.

Coming full circle, Jewell finished her dance with the sword of blood still in hand, facing Belladonna in momentary triumph.

“Get her,” she growled to the cù-sith that had returned to her side, injured and all the more vicious because of it.

***. The sword melted back to blood and fell to the ground as Jewell turned and ran for the door. She had nothing left inside her. She was burnt out. Her iron-poisoned heart screamed, matching the howl of the cù-sith as it chased her. With her every step, a bramble grew up behind her from the cobblestones to snag and tear at the creature, but that barely slowed it down. The great hound was so much faster than she was. Jewell turned a corner, the door now only a straightaway ahead, just as its teeth caught the back of her shirt. The violent jerk of its head sent her off balance and she fell, slamming into the curb. The hound snarled and pounced, crushing her petite frame beneath its girth and digging its long claws into her shoulders.

She screamed.

“I’m coming, darling!” Belladonna’s laughter filled the night from around the corner in answer. “Take a little bite if you must, puppy dear!”

The cù-sith growled low as it bared its teeth at her, eager to take more than a little bite. Jewell struggled uselessly and then closed her eyes as its fangs grazed the skin at her throat. There was a sudden woosh, and then only the cool breeze tickled her skin.

She opened her eyes.

The headless corpse of the cù-sith was slumped against her, and Sapphire was standing there, blood dripping from the end of her axe. “Get her up,” the young woman shouted, spinning the pole-arm in the air, waiting for whoever was coming next. Lavanya and Haizea were on either side of her, pulling her free from beneath the cù-sith and up to her feet.

As soon as she was steady, they let go and gripped the hilts of the weapons at their sides, ready for a fight as Bella came around the corner.

“Go,” Jewell ordered them, shoving Sapphire and Lavanya back away from her and towards the door. No one hesitated this time, but they kept the Empress in front of them as all four dashed the remaining yards to the Old Market entrance.

“Here I cooooooome,” the unseelie sídhe shouted gleefully, laughing. She was on their heels as they crashed through the door.

Jewell went last and practically slammed it in her face, collapsing back against it. It’s over. Just breathe.

The doorknob turned.

“No!” the faerie shouted in horror. She twisted around to slam her hands, slick with blood, up against the wood. On the other side, Belladonna pushed back. “No no no no no,” Jewell pushed all her weight into it, her bare feet having trouble finding purchase on the tile floors.

The door opened an inch.

“I’m going to huff. And puff. And blow your door down Jewellsie!” Bella’s lilting voice came from the other side.

“Over my ****ing dead body.”

With sheer force of will, Jewell slammed the door shut again.

The Old Market portal collapsed.

#43:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Fri Jan 12, 2018 6:37 pm
They sat on the broad stairs of the sanatorium next to each other. The second floor corridor was a mess of dust and broken stone in the wake of the portal collapsing. Haizea was gathering the girls in the basement while Lavanya was out with Janel, trying to locate Samantha and Judith. They were supposed to be tailing Sapphire tonight. They were supposed to keep her safe.

No one had heard from them in hours.

“Mallory said she’s okay,” Sapphire reported, stretching her legs out so she could slip her phone back into her pocket. Somehow, it had survived her fight with the fae knight.


“You know you’re still bleeding, right?”

“I know.” Her blood was leaving burn marks along her skin as it dripped down her face, throat, arms, and torso. That was probably not a good sign, but she would worry about it later. All that mattered was that she hadn’t died and that she had saved Sapphire. Jewell wasn’t ready to consider the damage she had done to herself just yet.

“I don’t have to go just yet.” She offered out casually. “I could stick around, help patch you up. Then we could watch a movie, make sure you fall asleep and get some rest.” Jewell just shook her head, and she knew the argument was lost. She looked down at her blood and dust splattered sneakers. “I just… how am I supposed to leave you? Who’s going to take care of you?”

Jewell stared at the wall, “I’ll be fine.”

The young woman shook her head. “No. You need to be more than fine. You’ve got to survive this.”

Jewell sighed, “Sapphire, I--”

“I don’t care how bad it all seems. Just promise me you’ll survive. Promise me that you’ll do anything to survive.”

Twenty minutes ago, she had been choking on her fear of losing this girl. This girl with her blue hair and her blue eyes and quirky personality and sass. This girl who was more stubborn than both her parents combined but who also had a bigger heart than anyone she knew. Her girl. She couldn’t deny her anything. Not now. Not when she was so relieved to have her sitting there right next to her. Jewell nodded, not thinking about the consequences of her words: “I promise. I will survive this. No matter what.”

Sapphire wrapped her up in a firm hug, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Thank you.”

Jewell couldn’t bear to turn and watch her go up the stairs. She didn’t have the strength to watch her leave. She was still sitting there staring straight ahead at the wall when Lavanya returned with Janel at her side some time later.

“Samantha’s dead. We found her body near the marketplace. Drained of blood. Her phone was still on her.”

She wasn’t surprised to find that the Night Court had their hand in this attack. “And Judith?”

Lavanya and Janel looked between each other. It was the Finder that spoke, “She’s in Little Elfhame.”

Something cold settled in Jewell’s stomach. “Bring her to me. Now.”


It was after midnight when the girls returned with their wayward sister.

The trial was held immediately in one of the training rooms in the basement. It was a small affair. The remaining girls of Summer stood around the edges of the room, silent witnesses to this treachery. The condemned was left to kneel upon the floor before the Empress she once served. The little sídhe, covered in blood and dust and trembling uncontrollably, was judge here.

And executioner.

Judith raised her face to look at Jewell: defiant and angry. “You are not my queen to summon me here like this.”

“No,” Jewell shook her head. Exhaustion beckoned but anger kept her going. Fury kept her on her feet. The bite of betrayal kept her sharp. “I am not though you once swore your loyalty to me. Your queen is in Little Elfhame this evening, isn’t she? Licking the wounds I inflicted upon her. Five of her minions dead. One of her vile hounds gone. Her knight wounded. Even she was wounded. And yet you wish to still hide behind her?”

Judith looked down and said nothing.

“You betrayed your sisters, Judith.” Jewell gestured to the women lining the walls of the room. “You lead your sister Samantha to her death. You betrayed Ishmerai, your knight commander who trained you all these years. You betrayed me, who rescued you from the brothel you called home, and then you put my daughter’s life in danger this evening. You handed her over to them to be killed. Or worse.” She paused, “I want to know why.”

“Why?” Judith asked incredulously, her head shooting up. “Why? Because of you! Look at you! You can’t protect us. You can’t protect anyone. You fight one night and look at you.” Judith gestured to the Empress--injured and exhausted. “You told us to wait… but for what? Wait for death to come for us like it’s coming for you?” she sneered. “No. I won’t. I have a family to protect. My daughter--” she suddenly hesitated. “I did it for her. I did it for Daphne.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Don’t you understand? I did it for her!”

Jewell nodded slowly, “Yes, I do understand. You have a family to protect. So do I.”

It was quick. The knife was summoned to her hand with a thought, and she opened Judith’s throat with a swipe of it before she could even think to cry out for mercy. Her green eyes widened and her hands sought to stem the flow of blood, but death was standing right in front of her.

Judith met her there on the stone cold floor of the sanatorium.

#44:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Thu Feb 01, 2018 12:56 pm
January 10, 2018

It was closer to three a.m. than two when Jewell showed up on Sinjin’s doorstep: battered and reeking of blood. Most of it was hers now; she had washed the remains of the fae she had killed off along with the dirt and grime of the fight before patching herself up as much as necessary--her shoulders, her ribs, the long series of cuts that fortunately skipped over her left eye. She should have been sleeping, likely for the next two weeks if she wanted to even dream of recovering after all she had done last night, but two minutes sitting on the couch in her empty loft had been too long. Instead, she had made the walk over to the Deadwood despite his warning.

She didn’t go inside though. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, leaving exhaustion in its wake, and in that exhaustion, Jewell found it harder than normal to keep herself together and muster up that bold confidence she preferred to project to the world.

Text to Sin: Can I come in?

The vibrating of his phone snapped him from his thoughts -- though thoughts would be a generous term. He was vibrating with a mix of energy and exhaustion from maintaining such a deep and powerful illusion that was only partially satisfied by the violence he exerted afterward. There was nothing left of them now -- the two kindred were little more than dust on the wind outside and the Deadwood was abandoned as even Kaavi had escaped for safer spaces.

Sinjin, however, was not so keen on abandonment. A singular glance at his phone to see the name was all it took to make the kindred rise to his feet and head for the door and down the stairs. He could have texted her back and invite her inside -- what a fae thing to do -- but instead he was possessed to see her in the flesh before anything else.

And he did: his steps slowed as he went down the ruined staircase to the broken front door where she was, in all her injury and glory, and for a moment he said nothing. He looked at her, his brows drawn together in a look of critical observation as he came near. He smelled of blood and smoke and ash as he reached, his heavily scarred hands moving to gently cup her jaw as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was safe and so was he.

Her grey eyes ate him up as he came down the stairs, the tightness in her chest easing a little to see him there: whole and unharmed. And if she tensed for just a moment when he kissed her forehead--as if her whole body expected an iron shiv to follow the gesture--it was like it never even happened when, heedless of the injuries to her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against him.

Inhaling the scent of the evening clinging to him, she demanded: “Tell me you’re okay.” Put it into words and make it true.

He felt the tension roll through her and though he did not ask or speak of it, the sinner made a mental notation: there was something more to that. But that was a thought for later. Instead, his fingers slid up and into her hair, cradling her head against his shoulder as his other arm circled around her, holding her close. “I’m here,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear and thick with the accent of his native tongue. “I’m safe. You’re safe.” His words were a quiet reassurement there in the cold of the early morning, the world gone still in the wake of violence.

Her own safety was rarely of any concern for the faerie, but she would never forgive herself for putting anyone she cared about in danger--even if some of them maybe enjoyed it. He was okay though, which meant everything (for the moment) was okay. Jewell released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding along with a little more of that heart-squeezing feeling that had been suffocating her ever since she received Sapphire’s text earlier in the evening.

“Did you kill them?” He left them unnamed, but knew one thing was certain: Jewell was as capable as himself, if not more so, and if someone imposed their ire on her or her children, he could not imagine a place where the Empress would allow them to leave intact.

She remained there--still, close, and safe in the magic that seemed to spring up between and around them--counting the bodies in her head. “Four of them,” she confirmed as if he had asked if she had picked up bread at the store. Four lives taken as if they were nothing. They were nothing. Nameless nobodies that had dared to touch someone she loved. “I need the other one alive still, but I made her bleed.” It wasn’t enough, but it would have to be for now. Later, she’d take her heart.

“Good girl.” Sinjin seemed satisfied with that answer, a dark edge to his smile as he pressed another kiss to her temple, lingering close. He seemed to be debating something in the silence that followed, but when he eventually spoke again, it was as he slowly released her from his embrace, though his hand sought her own. “I can hide us here tonight, if you wish it.” No one would find them. He had enough energy left in him for that. “You can rest. You need it, ruiseñor.” A moment of peace before what he did not doubt would be her next war.

“And you can tell me how I can help you.” He squeezed her fingers just so, an undeniable curiosity and want for violence in his eyes. Sinjin did not abide cruelty to those he cared for, much less an invasion of his home, however foolishly planned.

Jewell looked down at their hands, linked together. She should refuse his offer. She shouldn’t have even come here and gotten him involved, but it was too late. Sin was involved. He wanted to be involved, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him no even if it meant telling him all the things that had silently existed, shoved aside and ignored, the last few weeks as they played pretend.

In some ways, she wanted to tell him: this man who held her hand and did not hesitate to offer her his help. A perfect partner in crime. When she looked up at him, her smile promised all the violence he could ever want and more. “Yes, we should talk.”

((Written with the lovely Sinjin-player. Thank you!))

#45:  Author: JewellRavenlockCan Be Found: Little Elfhame; Old Market PostPosted: Thu Feb 01, 2018 1:37 pm
January 11, 2018

Jewell threw open the door to the private lounge deep within Pulse. It was a club catering exclusively to the kindred elite in the city, but the faerie had cut through the crowd and other obstacles unhindered to get here. Even with the jagged line of deep cuts marching across her face, she was charming and few could resist the glamour hidden along the curve of her lips.

Inside the room were half a dozen kindred lounging, drinking, schmoozing, plotting. The air was thick with smoke--cigarettes and incense--and the table at the center of the small lounge was littered with bottles of alcohol and glasses.

Reclined on a couch at the center was the man she sought. “Everyone out,” she ordered.

Shock and surprise rippled through the room, one woman tittered with laughter, but Théodore sat up straight and dismissed them, “You heard my lady, get out.”

There were grumbles and ill favoured looks cast in her direction, but the room cleared quickly. She waited until the door clicked shut. “You ****ing bastard.”

“It’s nice to see you too, my angel.” He grinned, rising to meet her, “I’ve missed you very much.”

“How dare you? How dare you--”

“I knew you would come,” he interrupted mildly. “Though I wish you didn’t look so cross with me. You should be happy, no? Your filthy Ravnos scum is unharmed. Although,” he came closer, reaching to touch her face and looking displeased, “you are not.”

She smacked his hand away. “Don’t touch me and don’t you ever touch any of my friends again.”

He looked contemplatively down at his hand where their hands had just met. An edge crept into his tone, “You ask this of me when you give me nothing but your scorn in return.”

It was true. She hadn’t given him anything at all since he had become bound to her. He had hounded her every day for a week with notes, flowers, invitations for dinner, and a truly terrible series of love poems. He wanted to see her. Needed to be with her. He didn’t desire anyone else. In return, she had rebuffed his every attempt, leading him along and driving him crazy, keeping just out of reach and flaunting her influence over him. It was cruel and oh-so-fun and she had no doubt that he deserved all the pain it caused him and more.

Jewell’s chin came up haughtily, her voice cold. “I’m not asking. You owe your loyalty to me now, and I don’t owe you anything in return.”

The change in him was instantaneous. “YOU DO!” he roared at her. To her credit, Jewell did not flinch back. She stood, rooted in place by the strength that sustained her through all her trials. “You do owe me! You… you created this bond!” He gestured between them, raving madly. “And now you deny me? You deny me day after day after day. You don’t know what it’s done to me. I can’t sleep. Nothing satisfies me. No one! They all taste like ash in my mouth.”

“You’re blaming me? This is your fault, and I--”

He didn’t even hear her as he began to pace back and forth in his agitation, his hands in his hair, pulling at the roots. “And I knew you would come. I knew! If we took out that trash, I knew you would be here. But not because of me. You care nothing for me. It’s because of him.” The thought seemed to only drive him more wild. “Why not me? I love you! I would do anything for you. I could fix all your problems. I would make you my queen! Yet you spurn me. You turn to him! And you torture me so. Look… look at what you’ve done to me!” He had certainly seen better days. Beneath the artifice of his fine clothes was a gauntness to his face and a pallor to his skin she had not seen before and a savage, desperate light in his green eyes.

“Do you see? DO YOU?” He closed the distance between them faster than she could move, grabbing her face. “LOOK AT ME!” She had no choice in the matter as he squeezed her face, quieter now, “All I can think about is you. I want--” This close, he could smell the blood on her. The heavy bandages on her shoulders were hidden by her jacket, and she hadn’t bothered to glamour the injuries away. Couldn’t. There was iron in her body. It burned her a little more every day, making even the slightest magic more difficult. It wouldn’t matter even if she had. The predator in him had caught the scent now. His eyes darkened before closing and he took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Teddy,” she warned, but it was too late. The blood bond had been needling at him all week. He couldn’t resist it. Didn’t want to. As always, Jewell played only the most dangerous games. It was his move now. He trapped her wrist in a vice grip when she tried to shove him away and then his mouth was on hers, teeth biting her lower lip hard enough to draw the delicious blood that was all he craved.

There was cold iron around her wrists to keep her still, but she wasn’t going to move anyway. She couldn’t move. Her body wasn’t her own. It was theirs, and they could do whatever they wanted with it. “Come on, you stupid faerie bitch. Why don’t you moan again for me like the dirty whore you are?” the faceless Temple acolyte taunted before kissing her. He tasted like cheap beer and stale cigarettes, and his hands were rough against the smooth skin of her thigh…


Unlike before, her body was her own, but she still moved as if possessed. Seconds passed in a haze, and she was only vaguely aware of leaning over Teddy, who was sprawled back on the couch, a charred mark on his shirt the shape of her hand. And she was punching him over and over again. It felt so good. She poured all her rage into him. His face was a mess, her hands were covered in a mixture of their blood, and still she kept hitting him.

Then there were hands roughly pulling her off him.

She punched them too. She hit them, smacked them, flailed against them all like the wild thing she was. Distantly, she heard Teddy shouting, “Stop it! You’re hurting her.” But it was too late. Jewell seized the blood in the freshly fed kindred on her left and sent him flying back against the wall. She turned to face the one on the right, hand reaching for the knife sheathed at her back, when her heart gave a little twist.

The world came into painful focus as she doubled over, her hand going to her chest instead of her weapon. No. No no no no no. Not now. Please not now. Not when she was in the middle of a ****ing vampire den and she had just beat the *** out of several of them. Sweat trickled down her face, and her blue hair clung to her skin. She was aware now of the scent of blood thick in the air, overpowering the cigarette smoke and the stick of incense singing the rug. She must have knocked it over when she attacked Teddy.

She couldn’t breathe--the weight of the entire city was on her chest, stealing the breath from her lungs every time she tried--but the buzz of angry voices filled the room. They were shouting, arguing with one another. And then there was Teddy. “Angel? Angel? Can you hear me?” He was standing right in front of her. “What did you do to her?” He growled at his companions.

Jewell flinched back. “Don’t touch me!”

He reached for her, gentle and loving once more. “Let me help you.”

She staggered, retreating out of reach. “I said don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again. Just stay away from me. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He looked stricken. Horrified. “But… but I need you! What am I supposed to do without you?”

“Starve,” she hissed before turning for the door, shoving past the only kindred who thought to get in her way.

She left the nightclub on her own, and woe to anyone who tried to stop her.

Red Dragon Inn - Dragon's Mark -> Beyond the Veil

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