Juliette was in high spirits, very typical for her after a fresh kill. She now sat in the front parlor of the manor, an array of women standing before her in different ball gowns. With a bored sigh, she shook her head ‘no’ as model after model tried to tempt the demon with her dress. Glancing at Isabella, she rolled her eyes and spoke in a bored tone “Honestly, why is it so hard to find a decent dress in this piss-pot town.” She gave her best friend a playful wink as she knew she spoke like a spoiled society girl. She had to play the part well, no need for unwanted suspicion in her life. Turning her head to look back at the models, The Dress caught her eye.

With a crook of her finger, Juliette had the model standing before her. The dress was a deep rich purple with black accents, little black lace roses decorating the gown. With a soft sigh, Juliette crossed her arms. “It’s perfect.” Glancing at Isabella, she smiled deviously “I shall have Edward dress to match. We may not be going together, but I expect him to look his best when saving a dance for me.” The demon had no idea if Edward was still mad, nor did she care to think about it. He was her blood doll, and she expected him to do as she pleased. Raising an eyebrow, she asked “And what is my darling kitty cat going to wear?”

Isabella sat next to the demon silently, watching each model come up and try to tempt Juliette with one dress after another. She had a grin on her lips, amused by their attempts to impress her friend. She looked over at Juliette long enough to give her a playful wink in return before she spoke. “Who knows. Probably because no one knows how to sew~” Her voice was teasing and light – although not usually the prissy girl, Isabella knew when to act a certain way.

When the woman in the purple dress was motioned forward, the shifter tilted her head to the side a bit and watched the model. The dress was beautiful – and Juliette would be absolutely gorgeous in it. Her eyes met her friend’s and she grinned at her. “Of course. I would expect no less from you. If Edward is to dance with you, then his outfit must compliment yours.” Pursing her lips at the next posed question, Isabella shifted back in her chair slightly. “I am not quite sure as of yet. I’m terrible when it comes to decisions of what to wear.”

Juliette laughed softly at her friend and quirked an eyebrow “Perhaps you ought to just go naked…could produce quite a spectacle for all the seeking bachelors.” She began to giggle as she then snapped for a servant. Turning her head, she spoke in a sharp voice. “Bring me pen and paper.” The servant nodded and scurried away. Standing up, Juliette placed her hands on her hips and strode towards the models like a jungle cat “Tell your mistress I expect this dress by this evening. I am aware that it is short notice, so there’s no need to waste any more air in this room. She has my measurements.”With that, she shooed the women away and turned back towards her friend. “You know, it is such a pleasure having money.”

As the servant rushed back in to give Juliette her request, she took it from her and snapped “Bring Bella a drink. Don’t make her wait.” Turning around, she glided towards a desk that was towards the back of the room and began to write up a note for a blood doll. She was silent as she did so, her pen moving elegantly across the paper. After a few minutes, she lifted the paper up and read it over. Feeling satisfied, she then turned to another servant. “Send this to Edward immediately. When you are sure he has read it, you will then send him to my personal seamstress to be measured. I expect him to match and to obey my orders without question.” The servant bowed and left the room, note in hand. Standing up, Juliette turned to Isabella with a wicked glint in her eyes. “I always get what I want.”

Juliette then looked around the room as the candles began to flicker, her eyebrow raised suspiciously “Uh-huh…” Turning around to see Agares in her home, she stared for a moment as his words sank in. They narrowed a bit as he spoke of Alistair, her arms folding in front of her defensively as he spoke of her kill. “Mmh…I see someone has an appreciation for my artwork…” Her smile was cold as she then allowed herself to assess the demon before her. He seemed gruff, rough around the edges, and drop-dead gorgeous. His scruffy appearance only heightened his attractiveness. Quite a difference from her smooth-faced blood doll. Watching him dump dirt on the carpet, she let out an irritated scoff “Oh lovely, that should please mother…” Her eyes fixed on his as she then remembered he mentioned her grandmother. She stepped back in awe, as she never had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Lillian. “My…my grand-mother?” Hope flickered across her face as she clasped her hands together. “Does she know what I have done? What masterful work I am spreading all over London?” Her demon had her delusional, her madness misconstrued as “artistic talents” in her dark mind. Tilting her head, she then raised an eyebrow. “What entertainment would that be, darling?” She appreciated with selfish glee that he looked only at her and not Isabella. She wanted what she wanted, and no one else would have it. Juliette was aware of the threat he posed, so she kept her distance as she hungrily assessed him.

Isabella grinned at Juliette’s suggestion, wiggling her brows playfully. “I ought to. Then I might find a suitor.” Laughing, the woman watched silently as her friend ordered the maids about, a smirk on her lips. She gladly accepted the drink the maid returned with, sipping it silently. Her brows lifted slightly as Agares appeared. She was not familiar with him, but she could tell he was dangerous. Her eyes roamed over his body slowly, clearly appreciative before she lifted her amber eyes to meet his as he glanced at her.

Not particularly surprised about hearing that Juliette had made a kill, Isabella stood up from her seat. She prowled around the room silently – taking in every scent, sight, and sound. Before long, she stopped right in front of the door. Bess was on the other side of it – her hearing suspected it, and her nose confirmed it. Isabella shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing before she turned around and walked to the other side of the room. Demons might be stronger than her, but she had one advantage over them – her senses were much more heightened. She could hear a pin drop from another room, track someone just by their scent, and see in complete darkness.

Slowly, Isabella made her way back over to Juliette. She followed her towards the door before pursing her lips and speaking up. “I’m going to head home and decide what to wear, Juliette. I’ll be back over later, with my dress in tow. I’d like to hear what you have to say about whichever I end up picking~” With a grin, she leaned forward and kissed her friend’s cheek before hugging her lightly. “I’ll see you later, dear.” With that, she turned to walk out of the manor. Once outside, she grinned and then was suddenly transforming.

Within only a few moments, she was on all fours. No longer ‘human’, but instead a panther. After stretching, Isabella prowled away from the manor silently, heading towards her home. She gave her friend’s home one last glance as she slid through the bars of the gate, though soon was on her way.

With a steady hand he held Juliette by the neck, pinning her against the wall beside the door she was just entering. His eyes mere centimeters away from her’s ensuring that his next move wouldn’t be forced, but gladly accepted. Seeing a similar fire of lust due to his sudden action, his lips held passion against her, like the violent waves beating the shore but ending up smooth and relaxing as they reached the beach. His hand on her neck moved charmingly but with roughness up her neck holding her head in place as they locked lips. His facial hair against her silky smooth skin was a steady reminder that he was a danger, an untamed man. His free hand found her waist, wrapping around it and pulling her hips against him tightly as the kiss deepened.

Lady Fanny was holding up the gorgeous evening gown that she had just pulled out of the large box on the bed. Sheets of rice paper were all over the floor, as she twirled and minced in front of the tall looking glass. Fanny kept making goose lips at her reflection, while Bartholomew sat with a leg draped over one of the arms, admiring her from behind. Chuckling softly to himself, he chortled;

“I saw it on the model and I thought to myself. YES! That would look perfect on my kitten for the ball.”

It was a divine gown, black chiffon with white threading through the bustier that was laced up at the back. It made delightful sound as it swept along the floor. Fanny positively glowed, her cheeks turning crimson, as Bart rose from his chair and came up behind her. He brought his chin down upon her shoulder and whispered.

“Would look better on…but of course, you need to undress first.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows at her and a luscious pout of his lips. Lady Fanny bopped his head with her lace fan and spoke back to him, looking at the mirror.

“But if I were naked, you would want to have your way with me.” Fanny joked, knowing full well, he would probably start to masturbate while she was stripping out of her day dress.

“I am a man, course I would want to. If I didn’t…that would make me a fop…a Nancy boy. I am a Man’s man.” At these words, he struck a pose, and Fanny fell about laughing, unable to keep a straight face.

“Well, so long as you are not into Manly men, than we shall get on swimmingly.” Fanny laughed, then went back to admiring herself in the mirror, as Bart coughed and said;

“I dare you…to show me your bosom.”

“BART?!”

“Awe come on..just a nipple.”

“Bartholomew…..really?”

“Yes, really.” he walked around her and took back the dress and wiggled his finger at her, as she tried to bite it.

“One nipple….and I will let you keep the dress.” He was playing dirty now, and Fanny had already fallen in love with the gown.

“Fine…one nipple. But no touching, biting, licking, OR..sucking.”

“Scouts honor…and hope to die.” Bart replied, holding up the Scout’s symbol with his fingers.

Thinking he meant it, she started to undo her bustier, and then slowly lowered it, to expose her breasts. On seeing them, Bartholomew gripped her arms at the sides and starts to motorboat, licking furiously between them. Fanny struggles, continuing to swat him with her fan.

“BART…STOP THAT!…YOU GAVE ME YOUR WORD!”

With his face buried in her mounds, you could hear him mumble happily.

“I was never a scout…Bahahahaha…-continues licking furiously-

<3>

Juliette passed her mother without even noticing her presence, too caught up in the rejection from Agares. She was never as talented as Elvira when it came to bedding men, and the fresh confirmation of this fact sent her into a silent rage. Fuming, she passed through the doors of her bedroom and was about to let out a cry of anger when there were hands suddenly around her throat. Pinned to the wall, her instant reaction was to struggle and fight against her attacker. Letting out a growl, she then froze as Agares’ eyes locked on hers. Instantly she stilled beneath his touch, paralyzed in fear tinged with lust that was growing within her. She could see the desire behind his eyes but was still surprised when his lips met hers in a hungry demand. His hand slid up to hold her head in place, her skin prickling in awareness at the rough feel of his skin on hers. A purr vibrated in her throat as her eyes slowly closed, giving in to the feel of a more demanding male. The feel of his facial hair sent delicious tingles down her arms as they reached up up to grip his strong shoulders. Such a contrast from the smooth-faced submissiveness she found with Edward. This man was wild, untamed, and took what he wanted…and it seemed like at the moment, what he wanted was her. Thrilled at the demon’s desire for her, she flicked her tongue out in acceptance of his kiss, her nails scraping at his clothes.

As they continued their passionate embrace, Edward floated through her mind. Frowning against Agares’ lips, she pushed that thought down and bit down on Agares’ lip teasingly. Pulling back, she looked up at him with a small smile before it dawned on her. “Agares…” Her breath fanned over his lips as she understood who it was before her. Fear sent signals coursing through her body as her hands slid down to grip his chest. She was aware of her parents’ hatred for Lillian, and if she was caught in the arms of Agares, she was sure to be tortured to death. Her eyes locked on his as her sheer terror was palpable around them.“Get me out of here.”

(Underground Salon Agares’s Room)

“I-I-I’m not sure…sir. I came to alert y-”

Amos rose from his seat, instantly unleashing his demonic presence with a flash of flame that even his battle wear with it. Bare at the top, a well toned body showed with muscles that rippled and tensed through the skin. His lower was covered by simple dark colored rag like cloth to cover legs which became goat like at the ankle. His hair grew to the middle of his back, black in color. His skin turned purple and over it, green swirling tattoos appeared which glew with an unholy aura. From his back came his wings, wide spread and stretched. His eyes turned red and slited at the pupils, teeth turning to sharp, serated fangs. Large curved horns sprouted from his head. Over his back, was his sword. It was not named, like other blades, but did not lack in power compared to the others. He threw his desk with a roar, words being understood in a loud, deep, hellish voice. “You ignorant FOOL! I leave you with ONE thing, to keep an eye on my daughters, my son, and my wife and home. Yet you fail at even this!” The servant girl shivered in fear and fell to the floor as tears flew from her eyes like waterfalls. “sir! I thought it best to catch you before th-” Again she was cut off, but this was due to the direct contact between her and Amos.

With the raising of his hand, Amos levitated the girl into the air, and pulled her quickly towards him. The smell of urine and the movement of bowels forced him to grimmace. “Your usefullness has ended.” The words were soft, but said with a deadly coldness. He curled his hand into a ball, and every single bone in the girl’s body shattered, her screams of pain echoing throughout the manor, then were cut off as her skull even fractured in on itself. Dropping the body to the floor, Amos moved from his place, stepping over the body with hooved feet. “JULIETTE!” The name was screamed loud enough to be heard within the walls of the house, and even out, if there were not magical barriers built within it’s foundation. As he walked through the halls, only demons would see his truest form, unless he wanted others to. With no answer, he roared another name as he stormed through the hallways of the house. “AGARES!!!” Still no answer This time, it was a full fledged roar followed by the grabbing, and ripping of a servants head from it’s shoulders. Then, with another roar, he grabbed a second servant, forced his clawed hand into her chest and ripped out her heart, bitting into it when he reached the Foyer. “BESS!” He spoke the name with a mouth of flesh, and though it was not anger aimed at her, his rage was ever so present in it’s sound. “NONE SHALL SURVIVE! NONE!”

Ezekiel arrived at the front gate, a grin on his lips. Tapping his knuckles on the gates, he waited for them to open. After only a moment, he was walking towards the front door, a grin on his lips. He could see another man at the door, waiting for it to be answered. “Ah, it seems today is the day that everyone visits to Roxburgs! Wonderful, it means the house will not be boring today!” Coming up behind Az, the wrath demon grinned widely and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ezekiel here. May I ask your name, or would you prefer to remain anonymous to me?” He stood up on the steps next to the other demon, smirking widely. He was dressed in a full, formal suit – as was usual for him – and carried himself with a certain confidence.

Normally, at this time, after having fucked Juliette’s brains out after she fed from him, he would move on to another woman, normally the more respectable of the slave women of course. He may be ready to fuck anything, but he still has limits and respect for himself enough to stay away from the harlets. Besides, he always had the right words, and given by birth, the right look. However, it has been almost a week since the last time they’d had anything meaningful together, as Edward was still angry. His heart still broken, he refused to show her his love, his memories, doing lal he could to hold back in their meetings during the week.

He sat in his bunk, with everyone else off doing their own thing whether it be work or just fucking around, there was but a single candle lit, as he rested his eyes and entered his mind. He’d been this way the past couple of hours, though the screaming of Amos had stricken him from his head, he quickly returned to it as this was nothing new, though his words worried him in their intensity, which was uncommon during his rants. He was severely pissed off now. However, Ed brushed it all aside, and returned to his mind.

That’s when the knock was heard, and the door to the Slave room opened. In came a maid, who then spoke. “Edward. Are you here darling?” He’d recognize that voice anywhere. Latecia, a spanish servant whom had been a Servant to the family as long as he had. He had also been in her pants more than a few times, and yet, aside from Juliette, was still his favorite, in all aspects of sexual contact. “I’m here, Lahty. My bunk.” His voice was monotone, which brought a brow upward on the woman’s forehead, as it was unlike him to be so cold with her. She grabbed the candle as she walked toward him, setting it down beside his bunk when she reached him. Sitting at his feet, holding the letter in one hand, she placed the other on his thigh, and patted, then began rubbing softly. “Are you okay Ed? You don’t…sound like you.” Shrugging, he placed a hand over hers, the other resting beneath his head. “It’s always the same. Nothing will ever change. I’m a slave, she’s a lady. Thus anger replaces love in a heart full of nothing but.” exhaling softly through his nostrils, he he smiled and chuckled as Latecia fell over him, her body flat on his. She placed a kiss on his lips and handed him the letter. “Don’t get your hopes up yet Bambino. I read it. You are to dance, dress, and fuck to your wildest dream. ‘Tis a-” He snatched the letter, and placed a index finger upon her lips to get her to quiet as he used the other to open the note. Latecia nibbled on his finger as he read. “With Love? WITH LOVE?” Crumbling the paper in anger, he used his ability to generate electricity and burnt the paper to a shriveled ball, then to a pile of ash. Dumping it to the floor, he took his finger from Latecia and wiped the ashy hand on his bunk. “She sends love after telling me there will never be exactly that.”

Latecia had moved her lips to his neck after he took his finger, and it began to excite him, then he took this under control, but did not remove her from him. She spoke in between kisses. “Perhaps she….does not know….what she wants herself. So long as I don’t lose this..” *She grabbed his crotch. “I think you should show her this.” Edward chuckled, but thought of a better idea. Gently moving her off him, he leaned over her on a shoulder, his eyes falling into hers and his hand flowing through her long beautiful hair. “I have a better idea Lahty.” He placed a iss upon her lips, passionate and sensual, then removed himself from her presence. “I’ll be back before the sun rises, I expect to find you exactly where you are now.” Lahty laughed. “Of course M’sir.” With that, he left.

Outside Elvira’s room

It hadn’t taken him long to reach the door of Elvira Roxburg, the sister of his most hated beloved. He was contemplating whether to knock, since he knew she had been locked away without food. If he knocked, she could take him before he had a chance to explain himself, or she could have already eaten. Against his gut, he lifted his arm and knocked gently. “Lady Elvira. I request an audience for a humble servant of the Roxburg family.”

Fanny and Bartholomew had enjoyed hours of teasing and playing in spite of the chaos that was going on all around them. Every hour on the hour, Bart rang a bell for more food and drink, to be brought up, as they lounged around the Guest room, enjoying each other’s company, and telling awful jokes to each other.

Bart is laying on the bed beside Fanny, and rolls over saying;

“A man walks into a crowded local bar brandishing a revolver yelling “Who’s been screwing my wife?” A voice from the back of the bar shouts back, “You don’t have enough ammo, Sir!””

Fanny starts guffawing and snorting through her nose, as Bart roars with laughter, finding his own jokes rather funny, which in itself made her laugh all the more.

“Oh that is terrible….Wait wait…I have one. A left-handed maid servant reversed the order of the knives and forks on the dinner table. Her master, observing the mistake , reproved her. “Ah, true indeed sir,” said she, “and now would you be pleased to help me turn the table round?”

Bart screwed up his nose and then laughed so loud, you would think he would burst a button.

“Kitten..that is the worst joke I have ever heard!….Ahahahahaha! You win!” The pair started poking and prodding each other, laughing and the squeals from Fanny were getting louder…until….

“JULIETTE!” It was Amos, and by the sounds of things, he was one angry demon. Both Bart and Fanny lay perfectly still, continuing to listen for the blood curdling screams of Juliette. Maybe he was going to finally do her in? Then, they heard him again.

“BESS!” “NONE SHALL SURVIVE! NONE!”

Bart and Fanny suddenly looked at each other shocked. Fanny leaps off the bed and started to panic. “What did we do? I DON”T WANT TO DIE A VIRGIN!” she screamed. Bart suddenly had a wonderful idea.

“If we have sex right now…then, if he does come up to kill us, least….you can say you had sex first. Huh? Good plan or what?”

<3>

Previously…

Taking a deep breath, she shoved the dead husk from her bed and got to her feet. She padded naked to the water closet so she could cleanse her body. She released her hold on her illusion and the room returned to it’s destructive state. She felt rather than saw when Sally returned. She groaned upon witnessing the state of her room. “Miss Elvira, you know how your father gets when he has to send for the seamstress after one of your tantrums.” she heard Sally mutter. She dried her body and stepped into the other room. “I wasn’t in my right mind as you well know, Sally.” Elvira huffed, moving to her dressing table to brush out her hair. She watched Sally as she cleared away some of the debris from the sideboard to set down a tray of food. “Never you mind all that, come and eat. You need to be getting ready for the ball soon. Please tell me you did not destroy your gown as well.” Elvira moved to the table after slipping on her dressing robe and pointed to the wardrobe. Sally could see the ballgown that had been sent to Elvira still in one piece. “I suppose I could ask Lady Bess to borrow some accessories to wear.” Sally sighed, glancing at the broken jewelry littering the floor. Elvira snarled. “I want nothing from that woman! Do not even contemplate it.” Sally held up her hands before moving around the room to clean up the mess. “I do not understand why you hate her so, nor your sister for that matter.” Elvira bit into the meat on her plate, savoring the flavors that burst upon her tongue. “That is none of your business and I’ll thank you to never ask me again.” Elvira snapped, finishing her dinner. Sally nodded mutely before helping Elvira get ready for the ball…

Sally had been working diligently on Elvira’s hair and was just pinning the last curl into place when someone knocked on the door to her bedroom. Elvira caught Sally’s eyes in the mirror. “If that’s my mother or sister, tell them to bugger off.” Elvira scowled. Sally moved to answer the door when the house shook as if caught in a large earthquake.

“JULIETTE!” Her father’s enraged howls echoed off the walls, causing Sally to curl up into a ball on the floor and cover her ears. Elvira froze, in the process of adding a bit of color to her lips and cheeks. “BESS!” came a second shout, making the windows in her room vibrate. “NONE SHALL SURVIVE! NONE!” came her father’s enraged cries. Elvira turned in her seat. “What has that little tart gotten herself into now?” Elvira smirked.

Sally uncurled herself from the floor and got to her feet. “I do hope your sister hasn’t gone and done something foolish.” Elvira snorted and turned back to the mirror to add some rouge to her cheeks.

“Would serve her right, especially when Father gets his hands on her. He would make what he did to me this past week look like a walk in the park.”

Before Sally could answer, a voice came through the door, someone neither woman expected.

“Lady Elvira. I request an audience for a humble servant of the Roxburg family.”

Elvira whirled around in her seat, eyes as wide as saucers.

“What in the nine levels of Hell is he doing here?” she demanded. Sally shook her head and indicated if she should answer the door or not. Intrigued, Elvira nodded in the affirmative and Sally moved to open the door to reveal Edward standing on the threshhold.

“What is it you wish to speak to my Mistress about?” Sally asked, barring his view of Elvira with her own body.

Edward could hear the voices through the door, wishing so badly he had decided to simply walk away, especially when it was answered. “What is it you wish to speak to my Mistress about?” Sally spoke, as she opened the wooden door and stood before him. He did not know Sally well, and only spoke with her a handful of times..which was only ever hello’s and goodbye’s. Yet, he admired her devotion to Elvira.

Edward stood there, silent, for a few moments as he thought of the best way to bring up his request. He knew she had no favor toward Juliette, yet the request was a tall one. One that required delicate touch, and subtle tongue. “Evening, Sally.” He spoke as he bowed his head lightly, and continued while he rose it. “I was hoping to ask the Mistress if she would be attending the ball.” Pausing for a moment, his face looked painful as he spoke again. “Also, I was hoping…she’d…take me with her. If only as what I am, a servant to her family.” He kept stressing the word family in a gentle manner, as though he were directly defying Juliette’s claim to him. “I even offer myself as a feed. I offer a….certain quality that she may strike interest in….should it please her.

(Sorry for the length, wanted to get this one in before bed.)

As Az turned around, Ezekiel grinned and then made a sweeping bow. “My apologies, sir. I’m new to the area, I’m not familiar with many people.” Though by the mischievous glint in his eyes, he knew fully well who he was speaking to. He just enjoyed causing trouble and acting like he didn’t know the most obvious of things. After a moment, he stood up fully and placed his hat upon hit head once more. “Of course they do. I assure you, I am not weak. Perhaps compared to you, I am.” The demon paused, a thoughtful look on his face. After only a moment, though, he chuckled. “Though when looking at others, I am fairly strong. If I do say so myself.”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, the demon laughed and nodded. “Of course something wild is going on. It seems like something wild is always going on in their home. Ah, I believe that I shall wait alongside you, if you don’t mind. I promise not to bother you too much.”

Edward listened to the words Elvira replied with before ordering Sally to step aside.Plaything? Is that how she thinks of me? he thought to himself. After Sally sidestepped, he nodded to her quickly as his eyes fell upon his prize for a great choice of words. He surveyed her form with his eyes, and instantly was raked in to her beauty’s spell. He began to stutter a bit as he spoke, showing this. “M-Mistress, i-if it pleases thee…” Clearing his throat, he regained control of his words and fought the sexual attraction. “I request the great honor, and priveledge of joining you at the Masquerade ball tonight. If not at your side, then as a servant to demand.”

His eyes held hers strongly, as he spoke. Hoping the contact will give him a greater chance of succeeding in his current endeavor. He placed his hands behind his back, and folded them together at the fingers. “If a reason is requested….it is not something this one can give Mistress. All I can do is ask, and if denied, I shall return to my….most humble abode.” He stressed the word tightly, and meant it. Though perhaps she would deny him. At least he had something to entertain himself with in his bunk as he awaited Juliette.

With all the screaming, blood curdling threats, maids being ripped apart, angered husbands, and of course, the ever present thump thump thump of demons having sex, it seemed that a lonely zombie Butler would be lost in the thick of such madness. Hearing the polite tap at the front door, the ever faithful Lurch exits the kitchen, where he had been helping himself to a piece of Strawberry cheese cake, to do his duty as butler and (finally!) answer the door.

No one, could do as swell a job as Lurch, when it came to this task. And to those poor souls that had been waiting so long for this monumental event, Lurch would be a sight for sore eyes and weary feet.

The oversized zombie lumbered out from the kitchen, still with the butcher’s knife he used to hack a slice of cheesecake, when he growled inaudibly under his breath, and made it up to the front door, where he opened it slowly. He was a giant of a man, over eight feet and towered over the two gentlemen at the door. By the look of their clothing, they were dapper, and rather distinguished. They could have been Mormons, and if they were, there was a lovely noose that hung from the ceiling, that Lurch would pull, to activate the trap door to the pit of dogs, that only got fed every other Wednesday.

“Rrrrrrrrrrrr.”

The Door was held open, and now the guests could enter the Roxburg Manor.

<3>

As the door was finally opened, Ezekiel grinned and looked up. As his eyes met the large form that was Lurch, he grinned. “Hello, my dear fellow! Finally, someone has come to answer our pleas to enter the humble abode of the Roxburgs!” Patting Lurch on the shoulder lightly, the demon walked into the house, chuckling. He could hear all of the ruckus – it was always so fun to be in their home! Nothing was ever boring here, after all. “Someone’s been busy making a couple of bloody messes. Great!”

Juliette’s feet landed in the plant in the hallway near the front door, Agares’ transportation successful. Looking up, she ran behind the archway as she saw Lurch answer the door. Her lips brightened as she saw the zombie, her lips curling into a devious smile. As he opened the door and greeted the guest, she saw him wait for the guests to enter. Holding a hand up to cup her mouth, she poked her head out and called softly “Lurch….Luuuurch…come here, lovey…” Holding back a giggle of glee at her fortunate luck, she gripped the side of the archway as she waited for the butler to come to her. Her hair was a bedraggled mess, clearly a sign that she had just been rutting. Her white corset was tight and hugged her body, all the dirt falling off as though it were some sort of magical material. Lifting her hand, she crooked a finger enticingly towards him.

Lurch made a low inaudible growl as Ezekiel grinned at him like a Cheshire cat. His pleasant introduction, had the zombie raise an eyebrow, but what was even more troublesome, this guy was touchy feely, patting the giant zombie’s shoulder. Quite a feat for such a little man. Was he wearing lifts? The zombie allowed him to pass, then heard a sound coming from further down the hall.

“Lurch….Luuuurch…come here, lovey…”

It was Juliette, the one true flower of the Roxburg clan, or at least that is what Lurch liked to think. He turned slowly on his heel, and lumbered towards her, offering her the butcher’s knife that had wads of the strawberry cheesecake still stuck to the blade. Lurch gave her a lopsided grin, and wondered why she was such a mess. She was dirty…and not in a nice way.

“Rrrrrrrr?”

He was not big on conversation.

<3>

Juliette giggled quietly and put a finger to her lips “Shhh…shh…they musn’t know I am here, Lurchikins.” Looking down at the offered cheese-cake, she smiled impishly and flicked her tongue out to lick it. As she licked her lips greedily, her eyes twinkled as the petite demon reached up to place her hand on the giant zombie’s arm. “Now listen carefully, Lurch. I need you to fetch the pretty violet and black laced dress from my room. It is very important that no one sees me, understand?” Looking up at his giant coat, and idea dawned on her. Reaching her hands up like a small child, her smile turned innocent “Carry me in your coat to keep me hidden.” Stepping on her toes, she closed her eyes and perched her lips like she wanted to kiss him.

Lurch gazed down at Juliette with a near vacant expression. He really didn’t have a lot up top, and so her instructions weren’t exactly crystal clear. He growled in appreciation of her licking his butcher’s knife that had the sticky bits of strawberry cheese cake on it, and then dropped the knife in a pot plant, tip down when she asked;

“Carry me in your coat to keep me hidden.”

“Rrrrrrrr.”

It was going to be awkward, and the way she held her arms out to him, and made kissy lips, he suddenly had an idea, on how to get her upstairs unnoticed. Stepping back, he took off his coat, and dropped it on her unceremoniously, so the coat would pretty much cover much of her from view. He then picked her up like a rug, tucking her under his arm, and started off for the stairs, which he went up slowly, Juliette’s coat covered head was bound to bounce off the banister, as he reached the top.

“Rrrrrr?”

He looked left and right to see if someone was coming, swinging the coat covered Juliette around, then plodded off to her room, where he opened the door with such power, it nearly came off its hinges. Marching in, he then dropped the coat bundle with Juliette inside on her bed, and stared down at her with a sheepish grin.

<3>

Juliette had to bite back her scream as Lurch dropped his coat on her and scooped her up. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from making too much noise as he carried her, but her head kept smacking into the banister as he was none too careful with his precious cargo. Soon he was busting her door open and plopped her on the bed. As she disentangled herself from the giant coat, she frowned up at him with a pointed finger “That was a very bad Lurch! You almost broke my door! Be sure to check on that….”

Juliette then stormed over to her mirror and pulled her dress off of it. Getting dress swiftly, she managed to tie the corset in the front. She silently congratulated herself on getting a dress she was able to put on herself. After fixing her hair and pulling on gloves, she looked at her reflection. She was an elegant queen of the night, but she was missing one thing. Looking to her vanity, she pulled on a silk black mask that was adorned with violet ribbons that matched her gown. Smiling slowly, she knew she was ready to meet Agares. Turning around towards Lurch, she lifted her arms again “Time to take me back downstairs. Be more gentle this time!”

Poor Lurch. He had really tried to do the right thing, and get her upstairs unseen by her parents, the guests, her brother, her sister, and her mother. He thought he had done a good thing, but then, Juliette started to wiggle her finger at him and tell him off.

“That was a very bad Lurch! You almost broke my door! Be sure to check on that….”

Well, the Zombie did have feelings and suddenly he burst into tears. Lurch was generally ignored by most of the household, even though he was very good normally at opening doors. The fact he nearly broke this door, tore into his decrepit heart strings.

He was such a sad sack, taking out his hanky and blowing his nose like it was a trumpet. Lurch’s shoulders heaved, even as he watched Juliette get changed into the beautiful ballgown. Sniffing and looking lost and forlorn, he then was ready to go and try to fix the door, only to have it come completely off its hinges. Looking left and right, he parked it to the side against the wall, and then looked back at Juliette again, who was now ready. But..there were conditions.

“Time to take me back downstairs. Be more gentle this time!”

Lurch nodded, and instead of dumping his coat on her, he swept her up in a loving embrace, like she was a doll, and proudly went to take her down the stairs. Only thing was….he forgot his coat.

<3>

The sound of Lurch’s sobs actually pulled on her heart strings. Frowning as he lifted her up gently, she nuzzled into his chest and sighed “I know you will fix it, you big teddy bear…there there…who’s a handsome good Lurch?” She began to snuggle into him, very much enjoying the fact that she was being carried like a prized possession. As they began to walk down the stairs, she sighed contently until she realized she was exposed. Letting out a shriek, she began to kick violently in Lurch’s arms until she was able to successfully jump down. Falling to the floor in a heap, she looked at Lurch with an exasperated look “That was not a great idea, Lurch!” Scowling, she quickly stood up straight and adjusted her dress. Looking to the pot near the door, she had an idea. Stepping over to it, she smiled slowly and shouted “Agares!” As if right on cue, she began to dissolve into the plant. Now she would be able to make it to the ball unseen.

(Thread Change to Ballroom)

For a moment, Juliette treated Lurch a lot like he was that all too good looking blood doll of hers, Edward. It was easy to see how Juliette could pour on the charm, like kerosene to a fire. The snuggles and the words of how good he was and a teddy bear, had him rattle his head from side to side, proud as punch to be carrying her down the stairs, like it was he that was Prince Charming, taking her to the ball. Oh, the day dreaming started for Lurch. Juliette, radiant in a sea of cheesecakes, and then, she kissed him with those sweet lips. He closed his eyes, and nuzzled the top of her pretty head, until….

She suddenly started kicking and leapt from his arms, only to fall into a huge heap at the bottom of the stairs. The look on her pretty face was so horribly distorted, as she showed him anger all over again.

“That was not a great idea, Lurch!”

She was yelling at him again. The poor Butler got worked up and wrang his hands, not understanding what he had done wrong this time. THEN she screamed another man’s name. “Agares!” Who the hell was that? Watching in surprise, Juliette vanished lock stock and hoop skirts, into a pot plant. Lurch scratched his head, and then knelt down and tapped the pot plant.

“Rrrrrr?”

But there was no sign of Juliette or anyone in the plant dirt. As he stood up, his foot knocked the pot plant and it tipped over, smashing on the floor. Oh no, he had made a mess. Bess, hated untidy things, and he quickly hurried to the broom closet, and opening the front door, he started to sweep the dirt and broken pot plant holder out the door, and into the garden, right under the roses, where the Gardner dumped a pile of horse droppings on it.

With that mess cleaned up, Lurch ambled back inside, shutting the door gently.

<3>

Elvira could see that she was having some sort of effect on the hapless Edward. His eyes seemed to be swallowing his face and he stammered part of his reply before semi-regaining his senses. “M-Mistress, i-if it pleases thee…” He had to clear his throat and Elvira mentally giggled. “I request the great honor, and priveledge of joining you at the Masquerade ball tonight. If not at your side, then as a servant to demand.”

She was impressed. He managed to keep eye contact with her despite the fact that her succubus’s aura was flared slightly half of her maximum level. She began to contemplate the pros and cons of taking him to the ball as she eyed him like some sort of specimen under a microscope. “If a reason is requested….it is not something this one can give Mistress. All I can do is ask, and if denied, I shall return to my….most humble abode.” She could hear the emphasis on the word ‘humble’ and it was as if a light had gone on in her head. The calculated gleam was in her eye once more. She got to her feet, the tight corset of her dress pushing her breasts up and out like plump, juicy watermelons.

She draped herself across the door, nearly pushing her bosom into his face. She trailed a taloned nail down the side of his cheek, careful not to break the skin, but letting him know that it would be a possibility in the future if he displeased her. “What’s in it for me?” she purred, her tone of voice dark and sensual. Like chocolate, silk and sin all rolled into one. She was seriously contemplating his request, if only to pull one over on her sister.

“RRRAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!” another maid made the mistake of passing the Lord as he raged. Instantly, her body burst into flames and he grabbed her arm, yanking it wildly off of her form. When she fell, he brought his hooved foot to her head, and stomped on it. Blood, bits of skull, and brain matter flew everywhere in a ten foot radius. “I WILL KILL HIM FOR TAKING HER!” Her being his daughter, Juliette. Yes he wanted to kill her, yes he tortured her emotionally, and yes he he couldn’t stand her. Yet when push comes to shove, she is his daughter, and he’d rather die than see her harmed by any outside the family.

He knelt down to the lifeless body, his glowing eyes studying it like a new life form, something he’d never seen before. His clawed hands drug the tips of their fingers along it’s curves, along the delicate skin it held. Then slowly, he calmed, his mind focusing more on the object before him. When he heard his wife’s voice, he snapped his head over his shoulder, his eyes catching her form as his wings held open behind him. He stood then, turning his attention, and his body, to face her and hold her eyes in a cold stare with his own. Her words, however, were not going through as he studied her as well. Luckily, his mood had calmed, and his expression was just as fitting. Though that changed as he heard understood her final words.

“You…knew?” Just then, something snapped within him, and he stood for a long while, simply staring her down as though he were processing, still, what had happened. His face twisted with rage as he roared again, slowly stomping towards her. His eyes casting fire at her, not physically, but it’s what it would seem like as his mouth spat lava. “You knew he was here and you said NOTHING?! You knew she was speaking to him yet you did NOTHING?!” He roared and the glow of his markings intensified. “HOW DARE YOU COME BEFORE ME AND ACT AS THOUGH YOU HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG! YOU KNOW THAT BEAST IS FAR FROM WELCOME, YET YOU DID NOT REMOVE HIM OF OUR HOME!” He stopped just inches before her. All he wanted to do right now was tear her to shreds with his own hands, his rage was so powerful he was having an incredibly hard time controlling this urge. “THERE WOULD BE NOTHING TO FIX HAD YOU DONE SOMETHING!”

That’s when his nose twitched to the smell of fresh dirt in the house…and something much more distinct of sweat and exertion dried upon skin. His attention immediately lifted from his wife, and he pushed past her as he stormed forward, leaving the bloody heap of the body behind. Making his way down the stairs, he saw the two guests that had been allowed in, assumingly by the butler, whose name Amos hardly acknowledged. His current form would come as no surprise to him, and he recognized both. Ezekial and Az, one a family friend, the other his nephew. In an odd and twisted way. He ignored them, however, and continued charging towards the source of the scent, where he found the butler, in juliets room, with a busted door, and fresh dirt upon the floor, as well as sex in the air. His eyes fell upon the butler, and his rage was released again as his focus shifted. He spoke his next words softly, but the seriousness in his tone never wavered. “Where is she?” His eyes dug into the Zombies very flesh with focus and rage. “Where has Juliette gone?” Looking to the dirt on the ground in her room, he noticed the pot directly above it. Rushing over there, he folded in his wings and leaned against the table as he sniffed at it. He could smell her in the area, and if she truly had fucked his greatest of enemies, or one of three at least, she would have betrayed him in a way a father could never forgive. though if she was running from her captor, hence the smell of sweat and exertion, he would embrace her. He instantly believed the second option, finding it difficult to understand that Juliette of all his children would betray him in such a manner. Leaving, running away he could understand, but not fraternizing with his greatest enemies. He turned to face the Zombie, and pointed a single clawed finger at the pot, his ten foot frame standing still. “There?”

Edward watched her stood, happily pleased with the fact that she didn’t decide to simply remove him of her presence. However, he could feel the aura she was setting off, and though it was strong, and he was addicted to sex, he was hardly affected…that is…until she stood and her bosom blossomed through her tight corset. His eyes instantly fell to it, and then rose to her eyes just as quickly. Gulping, he held his head high, avoiding any chance of sighting her breasts. He knew it to be disrespectful, especially for a servant, and he far from wanted that. Though, she made this even more difficult as she leaned against her door, and practically threw her breasts in his face, and now, it was simply a battle of will for him.

As her nail trailed his cheek, he could feel the sharpness of it’s edge, and the delicate nature it was held with, which forced another gulp and a spark to show in his eyes. This kind of stuff happened when he got nervous, or mad, sort of like a twitch. “What’s in it for me?” she purred, her tone being of both dark and sensual intent. Staying quiet for a few moments, he thought on his reply. “In return for granting my request…I shall grant Mistress anything she wishes of me. there shall be no bounds for what she may choose as payment.” Another spark as he fought the urge to look down at her chest.

Elvira couldn’t hide the smirk that formed upon her lips as he did everything in his power to not stare at her breasts as they were practically in his face. By doing so, he had earned her respect, although she wasn’t going to let him know that little detail. Oh no! Elvira had something much more…sinister in mind.

“In return for granting my request…I shall grant Mistress anything she wishes of me. there shall be no bounds for what she may choose as payment.”

Anything? Oh such delicious irony. Her sister’s dearest blood doll at Elvira’s tender mercies. Oh this was deliciously evil! She inhaled deeply as she thought over his request, her breasts seem to have a life of their own as they moved closer to Edward. He held such tight control, it wasn’t a wonder he would start to perspire. She exhaled slowly, her breath ghosting across his brow.

“So…” she purred, running her hands down her body as he stared. “…if I were to request…you never speak to, touch, think about or even breath about my sister…you would be honorbound by your word to do so?”

She was curious as to his answer.

As she closed the gap even more, close to pressing herself against his front, a single bead of sweat dripped from his temple, a strong sign that his own will had begun to waver. His eyes thirsted for her sight, his mind hungered for her image, his body yearned for her touch. It was a yearning that would soon be sated by a soft breath, gliding across the skin of his brow. Gulping, the muscles in his neck and stomach tensed at the strain they were placed under to keep his sight above her collar bone.

Her words, though, brought him great pause. “…if I were to request…you never speak to, touch, think about or even breath about my sister…you would be honorbound by your word to do so?” she spoke. It was a question that could not be answered in one sitting. He loved and adored Juliette as much as he hated her right now, and could not figure which was stronger at the moment. Unbeknownst to him, his truest answer would more than likely be found at the ball. Almost desperate to keep her favor, which was obviously given in the closeness of their bodies, he realized he had no choice, whether it be due to a mind clouded of sexual attraction, truth of heart, or unsurmountable rage did not matter. “a man is nothing but his word, Mistress…no matter how it may pain him…your wish shall be my greatest of priorities….” The words almost pained him as he stated, but the pain was quickly replaced as he heard the screaming come from down the hall, his eyes wincing and his hands shooting to his ears to cover them. Once it had subsided, he regained himself, and instinctively opened his eyes to the beautiful sight of Elvira’s cleavage. When he realized the image held within his eyes, he immediately straightened his back, and lifted his chin high once more.

“A man is nothing but his word, Mistress…no matter how it may pain him…your wish shall be my greatest of priorities….” was his reply, even as he struggled to not look upon her breasts. She could hear her father’s rage echoing through the house…and she knew then there would only be one reason for his tirade…Little Miss Juliette had done something unforgivable…and in her father’s eyes, that was tatamount to suicide.

The evil grin that split Elvira’s face was a site to behold.

To her it seemed as if Edward was holding his breath waiting for her conditions. Elvira decided to put him out of his misery.

“All right, then. I will take you as my companion to the ball. My conditions shall be named at a later time and at my discretion. So you would do well to not anger me…” she bent close to his ear, “…Edward.” His name rolled off her tongue in a sensuous caress, designed to let him know that she did in fact know his name. Her cheek brushed his as she stepped back. “Sally, my things please.” she commanded. Sally retrieved Elvira’s mask, cloak and gloves from the bed, handing them to her mistress to put on at her leisure. She slipped her gloves on before afixing her mask in place. Sally draped the black velvet cloak over Elvira’s shoulders, brushing out any dust and wrinkles that may have collected. “Let us brave the beast.” she announced once she was ready, stepping past Edward into the hall. “Enjoy the evening, Mistress.” Sally called out, watching Elvira as she sashayed down the hall. Elvira smirked. “Oh I intend to.” she murmured, more to herself.

Samantha had just finished hunting when she went back to the manor. Blood had still remained on her lips and she quickly went to the house, hoping to be unseen. She had passed Lailah on her way in and tried her best to conceal her face so that she could quickly move to the washroom, unnoticed. When she arrived she looked in the mirror and washed off her face. She tried to be graceful and not a messy eater but there was only so much she could do. At least she hadn’t gotten any on her dress. This seemed like it could be something she was proud of. Luckily, she was getting much better with her mind control and could now drink from humans without killing them. She could easily make them forget memories. Putting memories in people’s heads was a different story. Sam remained looking in the mirror a moment longer. She hadn’t cared much about her appearance when she had been a human and now that she was a vampire, she didn’t have to do much because her beauty was so radiant already, but whenever she knew she’d see Levi–which was every day–she found herself worrying more and more on what she looked like. She brushed her hair out of her eyes with her fingers and let out a heavy sigh, knowing there wasn’t more she could do with herself.
She could hear voices coming from the Doctor’s office, so she made her way up, knowing Levi was there. Sam knocked before opening, knowing it would be rude to barge in, but had never taken much notice on whether they responded or not before she walked in. She walked into the observation and was so taken back, she stumbled a little, the most un-vampire like thing she’d ever done because it was so not graceful. “Oh, um, hello?” she said, somewhat questioningly to the woman who was speaking with Levi. This made her uneasy because the girl was very pretty. Too pretty for her liking. Sam was never one to play well with others. “Er, sorry,” she said, straightening up and turning to Levi in a professional manner. She would not be a flirtatious little girl in front of another woman. She would have to be mature. She worked here after all. “Can I get you anything…sir?” she said, the word “sir” feeling foreign to her mouth since she was referring to Levi. Someone she considered to be her closest friend.

“Then its settled then. Right after supper, we will take a carriage to your recital, where I am certain you will rise to the occasion and thrill all with your dancing technique.” The Doctor said, folding his newspaper, now finished with catching up on the day’s news and affairs. He often found that in the smallest of articles, there was always hints of misadventures and scandals that may well be attributed to the evil side of London Society, and it is for this reason, that he tries to keep one step ahead. In the back of his mind however, he was wondering how Reginald was getting on with Miss Vivian. It wasn’t lost upon him that they were not exactly the best of friends, in fact he was sure they hated the sight of each other. Having to work along side your most despised is a challenge. There was no doubt that on the Detective’s return to the Manor to fetch his daughter and tell Johnathon of their investigation, that the words may be colored, and if this was the case, it would be all the more entertaining. A smile crept to Johnathon’s face at the very thought of the new curse words that would fall from the lips of Miss Vivian. She did have such a pretty mouth.

Johnathon’s attentions returned to the young Josephine and he clapped his hands together, rubbing them. “I do have another patient this afternoon I am expecting, so either feel free to take a tour of the house, or enjoy that novel you are reading. I know you shan’t be a bother. Not after all that has happened this day. You my dear, are like the lark that sings its song upon the open window. Ah, look, I am starting to try and emulate the great Shakespeare himself with lyrical words. Pity I could not have been so witty with Mrs Bianchi.” He cast his gaze down a moment, taking stock of what he had lost. “They say…that whenever a door closes, in one’s life….a window does offer its light.” He looked sad, as though the guilt did weigh heavily upon him for Saffron’s departure without note or word.

<3>

Josephine looked up to smile at Johnathon, her finger holding her spot in the book along the right side of the page. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I do hope I can make father proud, as he has paid an exceptional amount towards my dancing lessons for quite some time now.” She watched him silently as he seemed distracted by his own thoughts. Flicking her eyes towards her book, she began to read once more. The tale of Frankenstein struck her as an odd tale of betrayal, rather than some sort of horror fiction. The poor monster just needed some guidance, and Dr. Frankenstein provided none. To Jo, that was the true reasoning behind the monster’s violent and deadly nature. With a soft sigh, she closed the book as it began to weigh on her mind too much for the moment. Glancing back towards the doctor, she wondered how much longer her father would be gone. It silently disturbed her that he would not be the one to watch her audition for the part she had wanted her whole life, but she was doing her best to understand that her father’s work needed his attention more. After all, he was trying to save lives, whereas she was just a ballet dancer.

She jumped a bit as he clapped her hands, and she placed a hand to her chest with a soft laugh “My goodness, that scared me…” Watching him closely, she smiled affectionately and batted her eyelashes accordingly as he compared her to a lark.“Why thank you, Dr. Bianchi. What a lovely sentiment.” As he then grew a bit despondent with his last statement, she wondered if she should offer some sort of comfort. Standing up slowly, she stepped over quietly with her book in hand. Reaching down with her free hand, Jo placed her hand on top of his and squeezed it encouragingly “I am sure that even though your wife left you, she is thinking of you and Levi constantly. From what I have seen in my brief moments with her, she seemed a bit lost. Perhaps she just needs to go on her own journey of self-enlightenment. I fully believe that such a thing can only bring you closer, not further apart.” Releasing her hand, she took a seat in front of his desk and nodded her head. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say. I suppose that’s why I put up with my father’s…passion for work. The longer I am away, the more I cherish him.”

In an attempt to change the subject and return cheer to her father’s friend, she mused “Is Mrs. Peabody returning for her hysteria? I hear from some of my fellow dancers you have quite a talent…” Her smile was impish as she then looked away to innocently open her book. A smirk played on her lips as she pretended to read once more.

Josephine set the book aside when a maid came in to offer her a plate of cookies. Feeling like a young child, she smiled warmly and enjoyed the maternal attention. “Thank you, Miss. I was just thinking of how hungry I was.” The maid beamed with pleasure at the young woman’s manners and warm personality. Nodding her head, she set the plate on the edge of the desk closest to Jo and left the room. Picking one up, she took a dainty bite and closed her eyes slowly. “Mmh…these are simply delicious. You must have one, doctor.” Picking up the plate, she then offered one. Whether or not he took one, she then set it down to laugh “My goodness, how do you treat forgetfulness if they forget their own appointment?” Her eyes lit up with amusement and she leaned back in her seat. “You certainly have your work cut out for you. I suppose you will have to go look for him, won’t you?”

Placing her book on his desk, she noticed the emotions in his eyes. Restraining herself no more, she stood up and walked around the desk to lean over him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gently pulled him in for a hug. Kissing his cheek as though he were her father, she smiled sweetly. “You truly are a remarkable man, doctor. I should count myself lucky if I find a man half as decent as you.” Shaking her head slightly, she pulled back to smile down at him. “I wouldn’t consider myself so fortunate to marry any man, though. I don’t think any man can accept both my passion for dance and my…uniqueness.” Jo was of course referring to the fact that she was half human and the certain gifts she had. She was afraid of being rejected, but also could not keep a secret from a loved one. Therefore, she resigned herself to the life of an “old maid”, focusing on dancing and then perhaps one day opening her own ballet studio. Withdrawing from him, she then paced around the desk slowly. “So, can I help in any way?”

Levi waited until they were out of his father’s office to entwine his fingers with Sam’s. He pulled her close to his side as he led the way to his room, various maids and butlers watching with mild interest. He rarely invited women to his room unless they were council members to speak privately.

Pushing his door open to his room, he kicked the door shut and turned to face Sam. Smiling, he reached down to brush his fingertips to her cheek and murmured “I’m glad you’re here…I want to look my best for Phoebe. It’s bad enough I have to force her to go.” Pecking her forehead, he turned around and walked towards his closet to sort through clothes. As he pushed clothes around, he responded to her question. “She is…a friend of Detective Blaine’s. Johnathon has found out some interesting information regarding her background and wants to run some of his own medical tests.” He let it go at that and pulled out a simple black and white suit. He wasn’t one for these affairs, and he really just wanted to focus on more alone time with Sam. Placing the suit on the bed, he then waltzed back over to Sam with his cheeky grin. Crossing his arms, he winked “Would you like to dress me? I’m sure you’ve already imagined me naked…” He gave her another gentlemanly kiss on the forehead, but it took all his strength not to sweep her into his arms.

It was a silent ride back from the Cathedral for Johnathon, Reginald and Vivian, as all were traumatized by what they had seen. The Detective’s face was grim, and he constantly drummed his fingers on the door wanting to make the driver go faster, for his concern for Josephine was now the first thing in his mind. Vivian’s face was white like a sheet, still feeling sick about the state of the body that was hanging from the cross. She had not been so badly affected by the murders before this, but for some reason, this one had a significance to it, she found hard to understand. Johnathon sat opposite Vivian, and his body swayed with the movement of the carriage, his eyes searching her face, wondering if she had figured it out yet. Did she wake up to the fact the girl was an angel? And if she had, should Johnathon reveal the truth of his lineage?

The Bianchi Manor – Foyer

Maid Milly heard the bell chime for the front door, and scurried to get it, shocked to see the state of the Doctor and his companions. The Detective and Johnathon were covered in dirt, while Vivian looked like she had seen a ghost. Johnathon helped carry in the vampire killing kit, and set the shovel against the wall, as The Detective ran into the Doctor’s office, crying out;

“Josephine!…Josephine!”

<3>

As a maid in the Bianchi Manor, Lydia was well aware of the chaos that happened within the enclosed doors. With a sigh, she stared at the house and recalled her moments of peace at the fountain in town. She had noticed the lovely Josephine was in town, and she was walking with a troubled gaze towards the ballet academy. She was murmuring words of encouragement to herself, her nerves clearly getting the best of her when she spoke of the audition to herself. The maid had found it unusual that she would be traveling alone, but it was none of her business. Shaking her head, Lydia adjusted the bun on her head and walked into the house. Raising an eyebrow, she took in the appearance of Reginald Blaine calling for Josephine. Glancing at the Doctor, her eyes fell to the kit and then the shovel he placed against the hall. Smiling slightly, she asked “Digging for treasure?” She gave Vivian a slight nod of the head, wondering what had gotten her panties in a twist. Returning her gaze to the detective, she stepped towards him and placed her hand on his arm “Detective, I don’t know why you believe she is here, but I have recently seen Josephine downtown. She was walking by herself to the academy and was speaking about an audition. She looked quite nervous and scared.” Shrugging slightly, she turned to the doctor “Shall I fetch some tea for your guests?” Folding her hands in front of her, she looked from one man to another. Lydia had no idea that Josephine had run away to her audition, angry at her father for not being there and hurt by Johnathon’s reaction to her.

Johanthon turned to hear Lydia ask if they had been digging for treasure. It was a comical question, that deserved a quip in response, but Johnathon was in no mood for playing games. “Oh this? For digging up the un dead at the Cathedral.” Vivan shuddered and took out the wreath of garlic cloves and promptly hung it around her neck. She trotted into the office, after the distraught Reginald, who was searching the observation room for Josephine.

“She’s not here. Maybe she is with Levi in his room.” He suddenly became angry. “I’ll kill him!” Johnathon picked up the shovel and said,.”Do I need to use this?” Vivian snatched it off him and put it back against the door. “Will you both calm down?”

“NO!” they yelled in unison. During which, Lydia kindly placed her hand on the Detective’s arm and said quietly;

“Detective, I don’t know why you believe she is here, but I have recently seen Josephine downtown. She was walking by herself to the academy and was speaking about an audition. She looked quite nervous and scared.”

That was it. The Detective took off out the door, leaving Vivian standing there, wondering where to go, or what to do. Johnathon took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. Lydia was kind enough to offer to get tea, but the Doctor had another type of drink on his mind; Brandy.

“I’ll be in my office, Lydia. Thank you anyways.” He marched in there, and Vivian side stepped, much like a crab, following him in, not wanting to be left alone, not with Vampires and Demons on the loose.

<3>

Lydia watched with raised brows as Detective Blained took off out the door. Turning slowly, she looked at the nervous Vivian and a small smile graced her lips. “It seems the lady will need some of my famous tea…” As the doctor marched into his office, she disappeared into the kitchen to prepare some for her. Lydia was masterful at creating teas that were both soothing and quite delicious, almost medicinal. Oftentimes she was showing Josephine how to make herbal remedies when Levi or Johnathon did not have her attention. As she clanked around the kitchen, she began the process of making the tea. Minutes passed before she emerged from the kitchen, tea and cookies in hand on a platter.

Doctor Bianchi’s Office

Lydia stepped into the doctor’s office, a warm smile on her face. “I understand you did not wish for some tea, sir, but the lady looks as though she has seen a ghost.” That was her only hint towards the investigation, as Lydia was not only a shifter, but a renowned clairvoyant. She sensed the presence of the dead angel hovering outside the manor impatiently, and Lydia sensed she was scared. Waving off that thought, she looked towards Vivian with her maternal smile. “Some tea to calm the nerves, dear. Though Dr. Bianchi is quite gifted and I’m sure he will have you feeling better in no time.” Looking between the two, she took a seat in front of Dr. Bianchi’s desk. Reaching for her own cup of tea, she took a sip and sighed contently “Well, it’s perfect.” Glancing at the doctor, she gave him a knowing look. As Lydia held the ability to know a great many things both as a clairvoyant and a shifter, she had the knowledge the doctor was always welcome to use.

Levi chuckled at Sam’s boldness, his hands reaching up to unbutton his shirt. Turning around to face her, he continued to smile and shook his head “Someone ought to give that arse a good whooping, Samantha.” He stepped towards her and looked down at her beautiful face as though he were assessing it. With his shirt completely unbuttoned and opened, he reached down to caress her face again. His eyes searched hers before murmuring “If I could, I would take you, Sam. You are the only one who makes me completely happy.” He placed yet another kiss on her forehead, but this time Levi allowed his lips to linger. They brushed over her soft skin lovingly before he turned around and walked back to his bed. Pulling his shirt off and sliding his pants down, he muttered distractedly. “I have to leave soon. Would you mind fetching Phoebe? We can’t be late.” With that, he went about the task of dressing himself silently.

The Doctor had fallen practically into his seat, at his desk. Tired, dirty and stressed to the max, he didn’t think he would even be able to treat another patient this day, let alone entertain anyone. Vivian had followed the Doctor in, and she started to find herself interested in the pictures, diplomas, and other wall hangings. Paintings of his wife, and his children adorned the walls, and it was clear he was a family man at heart. But to Johnathon, he felt his family was fractured, beyond repair. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes for a moment, seeing Josephine’s face again, and he shook his head to free his mind of her. He was already at odds with Reginald, about how he failed to look after the girl, even though he had told her to stay in the Manor for her own safety. Johnathon hoped that she would be okay, wherever she was.

Vivian finally sat herself down, and stared at Johnathon. She thought he was stressed over the murders, in particular the young woman who was found hanging from the cross. She placed her hands in her lap and asked;

“Do you self medicate when you have days like this?” It was a very bold question, but it was an honest one, since when do you ever hear of a Doctor, going to see another Doctor for medical help. Johnathon opened his eyes and looked at her, like she was reverting to her true journalist like questioning.

“If Brandy counts as medication….then yes, I suppose I do.” Not exactly the kind of answer that Vivian would have expected, but at least he was being honest. “I don’t drink heavily. Mostly social, along with a good cigar. Might as well enjoy it if you plan to drown your sorrows.”

The point was taken, and Vivian offered a flat lipped smile, as Lydia spoke up;

“Some tea to calm the nerves, dear. Though Dr. Bianchi is quite gifted and I’m sure he will have you feeling better in no time.”

Miss Westlake was grateful to see that some still had manners, and treated her like a lady. “That would be lovely, Lydia is it? I am Miss Westlake…but feel free to call me Viv.” She took the cup of tea and started to drink, as the Doctor kicked back in his chair. “Gifted? I highly doubt that.” he was though, but didn’t like to be modest about it. The Doctor then had a question for Lydia.

“Going to that…society ball. Masquerade, I understand. All the young ones are going, I imagined you would be too.”

<3>

Lydia picked up one of the cookies that was on the table and placed it to her lips. Taking a bite, she smiled slightly and pressed a napkin to her lips daintily. “Pardon me…” When her mouth was no longer full, she nodded to Vivian with a warm smile “A pleasure, Ms. Westlake. Vivian…I rather like that name.” She turned towards the door as she noticed a fellow maid slip in. She curtsied to Johnathon before she turned to press a piece of paper into Lydia’s free hand. With that, she hurried out the door. Lydia looked at the piece of paper curiously before she unfolded it. Letting out a soft sigh, she then glanced up at Johnathon as he asked her if she was attending the ball. Shaking her head, she stood slowly and brushed crumbs off of her dress. Walking over to the doctor, she stooped down and planted a kiss on his cheek “I would, but Ms. Bianchi is here.” As if confirming this, there was a knock on the door. Lydia withdrew from the doctor and smiled “Ever so punctual…” Turning to Vivian, she bowed her head as her warm smile returned “Do enjoy that tea, Viv. I hope your stay here is enjoyable.” And with that final statement, she rushed out the door to meet the youngest Bianchi.

Foyer

Genevieve Bianchi stood behind the door as she knocked, an amused smile on her face. She didn’t dare wonder what was going on inside or what had happened in her absence. Rupert was on her shoulders and was making busy work of fixing her hair. As the door was opened by Lydia, she smiled more “Ah, you got my note.”

Lydia smirked in returned and nodded her head “Of course, or there would be a less busy maid here to assist you.” The maid gave the capuchin monkey a polite nod and reached over to take the bag that Genny was holding. Looking over Genny’s shoulder to look at her carriage, she raised an eyebrow “I assume all the rest is in there?”

Genny brushed passed her into the manor and laughed softly “Of course. There is much to be added to my vastly expanding collection.” Pulling off gloves, she passed them to her beloved pet and looked around distractedly. “And where is my father?”

The maid returned to her side after instructing the footmen where to put everything and responded “In his office, of course.”With that, she set about getting numerous paintings out of the carriage.

The youngest Bianchi sighed and glanced up at Rupert. “Why did I think he would be anywhere else…” Walking towards her father’s office, she knocked once before breezing in elegantly. Looking around, she first spotted Vivian. Blinking in surprise, she raised an eyebrow “You are one of the more attractive hysterical women Daddy treats.” Giving her an assessing look, she nodded with satisfaction and God only knew what before her eyes fell on Johnathon. Smiling softly, she shrugged her shoulders and crossed her arms “Hello Daddy.”

The day of the ball. The day Barawk had been waiting for. He knew something was about to go down, and he knew his rival, Agares, would be at the center of it all. Along side his demon master, Lillith. the very thought of the two angered him. His eyes held the clouds above his head, as the dark of night was merely a few hours away, and with it, the start of the ball. Exerting his will over the clouds, they began to darken, almost suddenly, but still in a believeable manner, and a gentle rain fell from the clouds as booming thunder echoed. This would cast shade over the whole of London, blocking out the sun almost entirely.

His eyes matched the color of his clouds, as his angelic form came free from it’s bounds and he launched into the skies with a single flap of his mighty wings. He soared through the clouds, his mouth a bridge for the thunder that sounded each time it was opened. Though his wings were made of feathers, they were resistant to water, at least in the sense that they couldn’t become soaked with it and prevent flight. He continued his adventure of the skies above the manor as lightning struck the ground outside the front door, and left singed grass and dirt in it’s path.

Phoebe’s sweet tone and innocent appearance just seemed to irritate Sam more. As beautiful as she was, Sam was not very sweet and innocent herself. Even as a maid she had a fierce and powerful presence about her. But most men did not find that attractive in a woman. What they found attractive was… well, Phoebe. Sam simply shrugged when Phoebe asked if he was impatient. “I suppose so,” she said, keeping any rudeness that she may have wanted to add, out of her voice. She gestured for her to follow her and she made her way out of the room. Sam couldn’t imagine that she would like balls very much either, but she would go in a second if not to just keep Levi from dancing with anyone but her. She did not like dancing, but she was incredibly graceful and would be able to do it if it was required of her. It was simply moving to music and the rest of the time she could just speak with Levi about whatever they wanted. It sounded amazing.
They arrived on the stairs just as Levi called up to them. He looked absolutely amazing and she felt her un-beating heart tighten a little in her chest, but she gave him a playful smile. “She’s ready when you are,” she said, stepping out of the way a little as if to present Phoebe to him. Though she did so reluctantly.

Lydia was so polite, bringing a soft smile to the lips of Vivian, who was now extremely tired after the entire day, dealing with the Detective and Johanthon. Mind you, it was Johnathon that helped bring her round at the Cathedral, and had brought her back to his Manor, where she would be able to get some rest, eventually. As Lydia was taking her leave, she announced that the Doctor’s daughter; Genevieve had returned to the family home. Johnathon showed a look of surprise, though as tired and dirty as he was, he would receive her personally. Vivian looked down at herself, and asked the Doctor;

“May I be taken to a room, to bathe and then take a nap, I fear the day has taken its toll on me, and I think I would fall asleep in the carriage back to my bedsit.” You could see the dark circles around her eyes, and that she did require rest. Johnathon sung out for Milly, who entered the door, when Lydia left.

“Ah, Milly, please show Miss Westlake up to the spare guest suite. She will be spending the evening, so she can be bright and chipper for the morrow.” Johnathon said, and he looked over at Miss Westlake and used his hand to gesture that she follow the Maid. Vivian was grateful to the Doctor for his hospitality, and rose slowly, smoothing her skirts with her hand. Maid Milly ushered Vivian out, and as she did so, she passed Genevieve, who said:

“You are one of the more attractive hysterical women Daddy treats.”

“I’ve yet to have the pleasure. Oh and..cute monkey.” Vivian said, wiggling her fingers at the creature, before disappearing out into the hallway to go upstairs. With the door closed behind her, Johnathon eased back in his chair, regarding his youngest daughter, who seemed to have returned to the family home.

“Usually when the baby bird falls from the nest, it flies away. What has brought my baby bird home? Hmm?”

It was an odd way of asking why she had decided to come home now, especially so soon after her Mother had disappeared. Johnathon was unsure of how to tell her, that Saffron was gone, and sat silently, watching his daughter pace the room. He didn’t jump up and offer her a welcome home hug, but instead reached for his glass of brandy and took a sip. His mind still cluttered with all that had happened this past day.

“Your brother Levi is upstairs I believe. Preparing for a ball. Perhaps if you wish, you could see him about tagging along, instead of being cooped up here with your old man, hmm?”

<3>.

Genny paced and looked at the paintings of the family in his office, some of them even done by yours truly. She smiled softly looking from face to face until they fell on Saffron’s. A frown tightened at her lips as she turned to look at her father. “I’ve flown south for migration. Lovely weather London is having, isn’t it?” Stepping up to her father’s desk, she was all business as she tossed a parcel of letters onto his desk. “Someone has found these. I assume mother is dead.” Stepping back, she reached up to stroke Rupert as she spoke in a monotone. “A little birdie told me mother has flown the coop herself. Apparently her trip has taken a turn for the worst.” Leaning down, she pecked his cheek and murmured “I will not be attending the ball, dancing is a bore to me.” Straightening up, she continued “I will be in my gallery if needed. It seems you will need you rest.”With that, the mysterious Bianchi daughter glided out of the room and headed for her gallery.

Levi had just missed his sister come in when he came downstairs to wait by the door. As he leaned against the wall, he heard Sam’s voice. Straightening up, he then watched Phoebe turn to Sam with a smile before gliding down the stairs. She was breath-taking. The Bianchi son stepped forward slowly with a soft smile and ran a hand through his hair “Phoebe, you look lovely.”

Phoebe smiled slightly and shrugged “Can we get this over with?”

He laughed softly and nodded “Of course.” He offered his arm to the human before looking up to Sam. He blew her a kiss as his eyes looked at her tenderly. Then tapping his nose, he turned for the door and led Phoebe to their carriage.

(Thread Change to Ballroom)

Genevieve’s reaction to her father’s lack of emotion in her return, was understandable. Perhaps she got it from him, or maybe it was her fierce independent streak. Either way, she kept her tone one of business, much like he had, as she dumped a wad of letters on the desk, and said matter of factly that she assumed her mother was dead. The words were said, and it was like an ice pick was being driven through his heart. He had not mentioned a word about Saffron, and this had him troubled, that she knew Saffron was gone, but the part about her being dead…..was news. Johnathon stared at the package, his right hand still holding the glass of brandy. Only his eyes moved, from the pile to his daughter, who curtly said, that Mother’s trip had taken a turn for the worse. Gen offered a light peck on the cheek to her father, before declaring she would not attend the ball, and that she could be found in her gallery. Johnathon was like a statue. Unable to move as his daughter left the room. Finally alone with the pile of letters. One, was addressed to him. Smeared lettering, probably from tears.

Nervously, Johnathon set down the glass, and then reached for the top most letter. He toyed with it, for a good five minutes, as though he didn’t want to know its contents. But if he didn’t, then how could he move on with his life? The day she went away, he died inside. Finally, he tore open the envelope, and withdrew the paper within. His eyes cast back and forth across each line, each sentence…and the Doctor….fell apart.

My Johnathon-

My love, I am so, so sorry. Please do not ever forgive me, for I do not deserve it. I love you more than either of us can really comprehend, and I pray that you know that. I can only hope that you do not in any way understand why I would leave you, because in truth, I never could and never can. I will always be with you, whether you want me there or not, and I can understand in full why the latter would occur. I will miss you for eternity, long for you, but I need you to forget me. I fear that if ever we were to meet again, it would be our undoing. Take care of our children, they adore you, as you treat them better than I ever could. I pray you all find happiness without me, for I was selfish and pitiful. If you receive this letter, my wish for prolonged distance has been granted, and you will be able to find peace at last. While you must rid yourself of the memories of me, please keep the thought that you are loved unconditionally for eternity, that no matter what, there is always someone that cares for you.

I love you
Saffron

Johnathon brought the paper up to his lips, and then openly wept. His sobbing could be heard from the foyer, and Milly stopped in her place, hearing the grief stricken doctor, as his whole world came crashing down. It was so sad, and Milly found herself walking to the door, and opening it slightly. She had never seen a man cry like that before. The letter had now fallen on the floor, and he had his back to the door. Milly slowly crossed the room, and then stood in front of him, and the Doctor did something out of character. He let Milly wrap her arms around him, and brought his head to her, as she continued to coo softly, trying to give him comfort….something he needed so desperately.

<3>

They managed to get a carriage back to the manor, and Josephine spent the trip holding her father’s hand and resting her head against his shoulder. The case was getting worse and worse, and she feared for her father. As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the manor, a footman helped her out carefully. Planting her feet on the ground, she had a strange sense of fear as she looked at the manor. Glancing over her shoulder, she gave her father a worried look before she picked up her skirts and walked into the house. As she stepped through the door, she sensed something was wrong. The manor was far too quiet. As she walked further into the foyer, she then heard a sound that felt as though it could rip her heart out. Someone was crying. Following the sound to the doctor’s office, she walked in and gasped. The doctor was crying in the arms of Milly. As she watched the pitiful display, her empathic ability had her in tears as well.

Stepping forwards nervously, she was unsure if she would even be welcome at a time like this. And yet, she felt this emotional pull towards Johnathon. He was a close friend of the family and she wanted nothing more than to comfort him. That was all it was, right? Slipping closer, she placed a hand lightly on his arm, mentally preparing herself in case he lashed out. When she was spoke, it was in a soft angelic voice filled with comfort and love “Dr. Bianchi…is everything all right?” Tears clung to her long eyelashes she looked up at him with concern. 

The sound of the idle chatter from the disc jockey on the radio, buzzed in the background, while Harriet was already down and dirty, working underneath a Buick in Scott’s garage. Wearing a pair of denim overalls, with a black def leopard t-shirt underneath, the young mechanic was already dirty, with streak marks of oil on her cheek, and her hands practically black, as she worked a wrench, trying to loosen a tight nut, that held in all the oil. Gritting her teeth, and showing exertion with her arms, she finally got it loose, and the oil flowed freely into the drip pan that was at her feet. Though grimy and wishing she could change the station, Harriet was in her element in the Garage. Always a beaut car to work on, and she thrived on the challenges they created, when she couldn’t get the right parts. The only person she had a problem with, was whenever Jackson would bring his car in. Harriet still hated his guts…but he made her into what she now was, and there was no going back to an ordinary life. <3>

It had been a long day, and Scott was finishing with the last of the customers, after Harriet had reversed the Buick out of the workshop and parked it in the customer holding bay. Getting out of the driver’s side, she took out the mat cover where her boots had been, and scrunched it up, as she closed the door firmly. Another day…another car finished. Harriet was pretty content with herself, tossing the rubbish in the large industrial bins to the left of the workshop entrance. She noticed Scott smiling and talking with animated hand gestures to the owner of the Buick. Lucky bastard. Hardly ever did Harriet get a chance to talk to anyone. Just her and the cars. Her boots scooted along the sheer surface of the workshop floor, as the lights started to be turned off, since Scott was starting to close up the shop.

“Did good today, Girl. Mister Stamford always brings that car here, and knowing you, you treated that car like it was your own.”

“Yes..Sir.” Harriet offered, wiping her hands on the sides of her overalls. Scott looked at her thoughtfully, like she was waiting for something, maybe a word, or more. But he had his own wife and family waiting for him at home. “Shut the roller doors, and set the alarms. I be seeing you first thing. Night Harriet.” Scott turned and left her there, as the last of the office lights were turned off. Glancing outside, Harriet could see the last rays of the sun, and knew she better hurry to get home.

<3>

(thread change – Wolf’s den)

“YOU USELESS PUGS!” Marcus’ voice rang through the house as he hollered at the top of his lungs at a few of his wolves. The rage in his voice showing the rage which took his heart and mind. The reason? This team of wolves, who specialized in subtelty, were sent to the Vampire Coven home to investigate whether or not a part of his pack who had gone missing, were in fact abducted by the blood sucking panzies. The wolves were attacked not far into the compound, and retreated rather than stand their ground and fight. “You are weak! You are stupid! You are foolish! And you are full of cowardice! Were this Rome, your life would be taken where you stand!” The three beings before him smirked, and one rose up in words. “Marcus, they outnumbered us ten to one. We had no cho-” His voice cut off as Marcus shifted to his wolf form almost instantly with a loud roar. His hand gripped the other’s throat and lifted him high. Deep growls could be heard escaping his mouth and bared teeth as his mind relayed his message. “You are trained in combat by a King of Rome! A Legionairre! The BEST OF THE BEST! You do not run in the face of defeat! You stand and fight!” With each emphasized word, a bark was sounded. “You EVER run from the enemy again, I will personally take you to the enemy base, and allow them to tear you to shreds!” He pulled him into his snout. “I hope, you learn from this….” MArcus practically threw the man on the ground, and growled, his his eyes falling to his naked and furry body. “Leave” he spoke to them telepathically, and the three left as fast as their legs would carry them.

Marcus roared again, and in an attempt to calm his rage, fell to all fours, darting off into the woods which met the back gate of his coven home. Leaping over the gate in a single, simply leap, he darted full speed straight ahead.

It didn’t take too long for Harriet to reach the main house of the Wolf’s den, where she had heard the raised voice of Marcus, who was telling off his team of wolves. His pack. Harriet pulled her hoodie down lower as she entered the foyer, seeing the other males there, she always felt different from them. Having been one of Jackson’s castoffs, she was a werewolf after a night where he attacked her and left her for dead. With no where else to go, Marcella had taken her in. Harriet paid her way, so she had a small bedroom up on the second floor. Styled to suit her tastes, she had a sanctuary within the den, but…she feared getting in the path of Marcus when he was in one of his rages. She knew he had taken off into the forest, probably to calm himself from whatever his pack did to damage the Pack’s pride. Harriet had half a mind to go out and let the Moon do its work, to turn her to the werewolf she was, but then she might stray into Marcus’s path, and he could end her.

Harriet’s room

Entering her room, Harriet slowly peeled off her hoody and went to hang it up in her closet. She was still wearing her work overalls, and smelt of grease and car parts. Taking out the band that kept her hair bound up, she started to strip off slowly, heading for the bathroom, so she might shower before dinner.

<3>

Washing away the oil and grime that came from working at the Garage, was a glorious feeling. Standing under the steady spray of hot water, Harriet’s hair flattened to her head and down off her shoulders, as she ran her hand over it, smoothing it back. Using a bar of handmade soap from in town, she lathered herself up well, and scrubbed her body clean, her skin invigorated from the oils in the soap bubbles. Harriet placed the bar of soap back up in the holder, and then washed her body clean, rinsing herself, before finally turning off the taps.

The steam from the shower cubicle had filled the bathroom, fogging up Harriet’s mirror, which she wiped in a circular motion with her hand, so she could see her reflection in the mirror. She gave her head a good shake, with the spray of water flicking about her, getting droplets all over the floor. Without the makeup, and her hair wet, she looked so young and fresh. Harriet leaned forward and grit her teeth, making a growling sound, reminiscent of what she sounded like out in the forest. One of the joys of being a werewolf, was being able to run free under the light of the moon. Unlike the others in her pack however, she couldn’t change at will, and this was something of a problem. She was half tempted to approach Marcus, the Alpha of the pack, and ask him how to control the wolf within her. But again, she was timid, and didn’t want him to think she was wasting his time. She wasn’t timid with everyone. Harriet did have a temper, especially whenever she saw Jackson. Oh how she hated him. Arrogant, self centered meat head. She had a few other choice words to describe him, but she didn’t let her anger flare in front of Marcella, especially after all the Queen of the Alpha wolves had done for her.

Harriet picked up her brush and started to comb it through her hair, staring at her reflection as she did. She wasn’t unattractive, but she was shy to get involved again, especially after Jackson, and becoming a werewolf. Its not an easy thing to accept in a person, or new lover. She was dangerous, and she knew it. Placing down the brush, she wrapped a fluffy towel around herself, and padded back out to her room, where she would rifle through her cupboard for something to wear. She ended up choosing jeans and a Black tank top, and black scuffs. Harriet was dressing for comfort, more than anything. Ready to join the rest of the pack, if they were home, she headed out of her room, and went down stairs, to see if there was going to be a meal served this eve.

<3>

Biting her lower lip in deep concentration, Marcella began making slow, gentle strokes with the paintbrush she had steadily in her hand. Blonde strands occasionally getting in the path of her vision, but she would carefully brush them away and behind her ear. It was strange to see her painting right now, it was actually a wonder why she even thought of doing this to begin with, then again, she was trying to perfect something she’d dreamed up. Slowly… She mused, taking her sweet time as she painted the beautiful crimson across the material. Exhaling as gently as possible, thinking of this task she was involved in to be the most important thing in the world. Then, she heard it. His harsh voice had broken through the air… and had broken her concentration completely.

Her body suddenly turning away from her “art,” though the paintbrush just managed to swipe straight across the painting, ruining it in the process. “Marcus…” She brought out with her hushed voice. Things had not gone right, that was obvious. Not letting her mind think on it too much, she knew exactly what he was doing now, since an odd silence crossed the entire home. It was better to leave him alone for now, at least until he calmed down. However, it was the lingering emotions from the one she felt so much for that had caused the next scene to happen. Within a flash, the crimson colored painting had hit the floor, her body falling to the ground as she stared blankly at how ruined it was now. She blamed no one but herself, which only made her grow back into a rage, the paintbrush in her hand was ripping straight through the material, destroying the painting further. Till there was nothing left to be shared, her hands covered in the paints, she stepped away from the mess without a word. Her full being composed while she edged toward the sink in order to scrub her hands clean. Once that was finished, she dried her hands, then created her path to select something more suitable to wear. A fine dress. It was colored in one of the many shades she had been using to paint with moments earlier.

Discarding the pieces of her project, Marcella took the liberty of putting away her stained clothes after, it was her fault… so she would take care of it. Glancing around the bedroom with a pleased look on her face, she headed downstairs at last, the door shutting behind her as she went. Smoothing out the front of her outfit, the woman looked up right when her feet reached the flat ground. Almost immediately spotting Harriet on her way down. Managing a light smile directed in her path, she spoke no words, but headed off in a certain direction to check on something. A minute or so passed and she returned, having full knowledge that their meal was going to be served soon enough. “Hello, Harriet.” She finally greeted her, the usual expression displayed on her facial features as she watched her closely.

The man of the house leapt over the fence once more on his return. His fur covered in fresh blood. His teeth marked with the same crimson as his fur and claws. there had been a rather unlucky couple that graced his presence, and they paid for it with their lives, though, the event managed to calm the Alpha Wolf. Slowly he padded through the yard, his eyes and mind in a much calmer state than when he left. Opening the door to the house, he stood on two feet, and made his way through. Being much larger than the other wolves, all except for Andrew, his bloodied body was something to behold.

His eyes fell upon his mate and…the female lackey of his son’s misadventures. Harriet. Though he could not speak, he ushered a soft growl to announce his presence, and sort of say…hello…in the most polite way he knew. Though it was more so towards his mate, and not his son’s seconds. Continuing on to the stairs, he climbed them slowly, making his way to the master bedroom, and into the bathroom. Climbing into the shower, he bumped his head on the curtain bar, and threw a massive hand at it, breaking it in two and sending it to the wall. With a huff, he allowed his fur to shed and his body to return to it’s more natural state, even if he felt more at home in his wolf form.

Turning on the water, he stood beneath it as the steam filled the room, resting his hands on the wall before him. the water beat down on his body, his eyes closed as it washed him of the blood that had stuck to his skin and not the fur. He ran a hand through his hair, and then over the scar on his well toned stomach, from his death so many years ago.

Harriet twirled a stray lock of hair around her finger, as she went to greet the Alpha Queen, only to see her vanish into the kitchen. She was offered a small smile, and Harriet was about to raise a hand, as a form of greeting, but soon drew her fingers back and lowered her arm to her side. When Marcella returned, with a fixed smile on her face, she greeted Harriet with a simple “Hello Harriet”.

“Evening Marcella. I washed up before dinner. Will Marcus be back soon to join us?”

But it seemed her question was about to be answered, as Marcus entered the room, standing on two legs, and his fur was marred with the blood of a kill. Knowing her place was a lower one in the pack, she bowed and backed up, a small whimper escaping her lips, as she heard his growl of return, though it was his way of saying hello. Beneath her veil of black locks, she watched him climb the stairs slowly, and go up to get showered. Harriet raised her head up slightly, and her face was etched with worry.

“I don’t think he likes me very much.” Harriet said, feeling a bit lost at this point.

<3>

It was after Marcus had gone from their view when Marcella heard what Harriet said. Almost immediately she noticed her expression, not to mention the way she had spoken those words. In a way, it actually made her feel for her, and the way she was treated. Nevertheless, she kept her smile firmly in place, reaching out her hand to brush it against her own. “He is just irritated right now, Harriet.” Even though she couldn’t really convince herself that was all of it, when she knew it wasn’t, she did put effort in making it credible for the other woman. It was true that she had taken a liking to her, despite how displeased she had been when finding out about her at first. Her eyes did travel toward the staircase, pondering the thought of going to speak with her mate in private, but she held herself back from doing so. He would speak further to her when he was ready. Until then, she would wait. Taking a seat on the couch, she crossed her legs, and rested her hands on her lap. Waiting for the other to join her. For a minute, she was consumed by her thoughts; the very way he had returned in that state, Marcella would have been lying to herself if she were to say she did not experience that all too familiar thrill. Seeing Marcus in blood, that beautiful color, it was almost a tease. Shaking clear from anymore distractions, she forced her attention back on Harriet, putting back together the smile she had put on only for her to see. “Sit with me. We will wait for Marcus to come back downstairs, and then we’ll head to dinner.”

Harriet knew he was irritated. The young mechanic heard him tear up his pack, prior to going out to hunt. His words of condemnation and the loud roar as he changed into his werewolf persona were typical of Marcus’s being. Harriet was in awe of how Marcella could keep a smile on her face. Yes, she saved it for Harriet, and tried to reassure the girl that everything was alright. Harriet respected this, and went to take a seat beside Marcella, so that they could wait together for Marcus to finish his shower and come back down stairs, so that they could head to dinner. Though Harriet had to wonder; would Marcus even be hungry?

Harriet brushed back her hair with her right hand, and sighed. She knew Jackson would probably be coming back to the Den soon, and that was when Harriet liked to make herself scarce. Sure, he barely even glanced at her now days, and must be annoyed as hell that she is under the same roof. But….he made her what she is. Most days, she hated him so much, she would try to plot ways to end him…so he could never do this to another, then again, she was now immortal in a sense. She loved being a werewolf, she just wished she knew how to control it.

Harriet stared at the stair well a moment, then asked Marcella;

“How do I become more like Marcus? How do I learn to control what is inside of me?”

<3>

On hearing the door open, Milly looked across and saw young Josephine had returned. Gently she stroked the Doctor’s back, and bent her head down, whispering words to him quietly, before drawing away from him. She was the maid after all, not a proper member of the family. She picked up the letter that was on the ground, and then, handed it to Josephine, before leaving the room. Out in the hallway, Milly stopped the Detective, and looked at him with red rimmed eyes. 

“Mrs Bianchi is dead, Sir.” 

Reginald just stood there, shocked. He thought she had gone away, taken a trip, a flight of fancy. Not this. He raised his head slightly, and pursed his lips, as the maid said. 

“Miss Josephine is in there. Maybe she be better at comfort, why don’t you come and get some tea, while they talk.” The detective’s shoulders sagged, and he followed the maid to the kitchen, not prying into the Doctor’s office. Josephine had a way with words and he knew she was far better at speaking to Johnathon now, than anyone. 

Back in the office, Johnathon had stopped his crying, though his eyes were red and his cheeks stained with tears. He could hear Josephine ask if everyting was alright. Johnathon’s forehead creased, and his voice was so soft. Like he was afraid if he said it loud enough, that he would hear it himself, and know it was true. 

“I…got a letter….and…she’s dead.” The words all put together like that, didn’t sound right, and he shook his head, and then looked up at Josephine and said again. “My wife’s dead.” He could feel his mouth go dry, like he couldn’t swallow. Racked with guilt, shamed. “I didn’t love her enough…and now she’s dead. What kind of man….am I? How could I have not seen the signs? I’m a doctor…I treat people, I am supposed to be able to cure their ills. And I failed the one woman I loved.” 

He got up off the chair and then wiped his hand across his desk, sending the other letters, his brandy glass and other files, his lamp, everything crashing to the floor. Johnathon was broken, and now losing his mind. The guilt was overwhelming. 

“WHY…WHY…WHY IS SHE DEAD?!” he cried, staring at Josephine, wanting someone to explain it to him, so he could get his mind around it. 

<3>

Josephine took the letter from Milly, concern for the doctor written all over her face. As she unfolded the letter carefully, she read the contents thoroughly before her eyes lifted back to Johnathon. Folding the letter in her hands, she kept her eyes locked on the doctor as she stepped towards him. She began to glow with her healing aura as was habit, but she did not dare touch the doctor again. The half-angel had the ability to wipe away pain, mend a broken heart with a touch that would erase all memories of what pained the poor being. However, she held too much respect for the doctor and knew that broken hearts helped shape people, and if anyone could come back from this stronger, it was Johnathon Bianchi. Jo tilted her head slightly as she looked at Johnathon with sorrow. She longed to pull him into her arms and caress his hair, offering words of comfort as she took his pain away. It pained her to see him like this, but she knew he had to grieve. Standing back, her hands folded in front of her as she watched him send everything flying off his desk. She winced but that was the only movement she made as she watched him. Tears ran down her cheeks as she witnessed his pain but she did nothing to remove them.

As he turned to throw that question at her, Josephine had to swallow hard as she stepped just a tad closer. “Oh Johnathon…”In the privacy of his grief and pain, she spoke to him with his first name as though she were speaking to a lover or close friend.“You loved her enough…Truly you did, or else she would not have taken the time to write to you, or to the children. It is clear she will always love you.” As she stepped forward to close the gap between them, she raised her fingers to caress his face but stopped herself. They were only inches apart as she dropped her hand to her side and looked at him with such love and tenderness that her blue eyes shone like the ocean. “You of all people know that somethings plague the mind and heart that are sometimes just to great for those to manage in this world. Understand now that she is in a place where she will find peace…and she will forever love you and your children. There is nothing that you could have done better. Saffron chose this for herself. She chose to find an ends to her own means.” Desperation racked her voice as she leaned into him “Understand that you are a great man. Please…you must understand. This world is lucky to have a talented doctor like you to cure them.” Looking at the floor, she whispered “And I am so lucky to have a friend as compassionate as you.” It was silent for a moment before she brought her eyes up to look at him again. “You know I can take this all away if you ask, but I will never act without permission.” To prove her point, her healing aura calmed down and she seemed to glow less. Now should they touch, she wouldn’t force her healing onto him.

The Doctor’s shoulders were heaving up and down, and while Josephine wanted so much to comfort Johnathon, at this point he was simply inconsolable. When he raised his head up to Jo, as she spoke to him, he started to shake his head. He felt like no one could possibly understand the pain he felt, the sheer frustration, and the unending feeling of guilt. 

“I want to know why…I want to know why Saffron’s life is over. *he sobs, his eyes filled with tears.* I don’t understand. I was supposed to go first, I was always ready to go first. Will my children ever know how truly wonderful their mother was? What she did for them? OH GOD I WANT TO KNOW WHY?” 

Out in the foyer, Cookie had come out of the kitchen, her face etched in sadness, as there was a knock at the door. Milly was in the kitchen comforting Reginald who was sipping his tea. With no one else to answer the door, Cookie plodded over and opened it, only to see Mrs Peabody standing at the door. 

“I need treatment, show me into the Doctor’s room at once.” Mrs Peabody said, charging into the foyer, like a woman possessed. Cookie shrieked and lifted her skirts, trying to stop the crazy client of Doctor Bianchi. This was the last thing he needed right now. In the midst of his breakdown, that horrid woman wanted her treatment. 

In the office, Johnathon was going around in circles, as Mrs Peabody and Cookie entered the room. 

“I’m just so mad…I just want to hit somebody, to make them feel as bad as I do right now. I want to hit something! I want to hit it HARD!” Johnathon cried, raising his fists. Cookie had seen enough, and grabbed Mrs Peabody from behind, who was confused as what she had just walked into. 

“HERE…HIT THIS!…Go ahead Doctor Bianchi….Knock her lights out!” 

“Are you crazy?” 

“Never been more sure of anything before. GO ON, HIT HER!…HIT HER HARD!…Then you can tell everyone, you slapped Mrs Peabody, for wanting constant hysteria treatments…..GO ON SLAP HER!” 

“ARRRCH….let me go, you crazy Cook.” 

“Mrs Peabody…this is a chance to do something for your fellow man. Go on John…Knock her lights out!” 

“Let go of me!” Mrs Peabody screamed, as the Doctor watched the scene unfolding, and found himself chucking. Cookie smiled and thrust Mrs Peabody forward again, hoping he would slap her. “You are missing the opportunity of a life time, Doctor Bianchi…..half of London would want to do this!” You could hear laughter coming from out in the hall, and it was the entire household staff. 

Mrs Peabody yanked herself free from Cookie’s grip, and shouted at her; 

“You are a pig from hell, Cookie.” 

“No…just a naughty angel. Now get out.” Cookie swatted Mrs Peabody’s backside and gave the Doctor a nod, before going back to the kitchen, where a few of the staff congratulated her for using Mrs Peabody, to calm Johnathon. Mrs Peabody growled and fled the room, full of shame, as the Doctor finally found the reason to smile again. 

<3>

Josephine watched him quietly, stepping back as he began to shout. Clearly her words were not enough, and he would only find comfort with the house staff who were closer to him. She remained silent, watching the maid rush in with the ridiculous Ms. Peabody. It was very hard not to roll her eyes but somehow she managed to keep out of it. Walking away from Johnathon, she stared distractedly at the paintings on the wall. It seemed Cookie was the only one who could comfort the doctor now. Silently, she reveled in the fact that she had got the part she wanted in the ballet. It was obvious that now was not the time to break out the news, but she was still pleased with her small triumph nonetheless. It hurt that she couldn’t share it with her father or the good doctor who had both promised to be there, but still, she said nothing. Johnathon had bigger worries than a silly ballet. As she turned to look at him, he smiled and it was enough to keep the tears from flowing again. Regardless if he was looking at her or not, she smiled tenderly before turning back to look at the portraits.

Out in the hall, the laughter of Milly from seeing Mrs Peabody flee the manor, was truly worth it. Doctor Bianchi had put up with her non stop visits for so long, and to come in demanding treatment the day he found out his wife was dead, was simply unacceptable. For all the sadness and the grief, Cookie had done what no one else could. Found a way to make Johnathon smile. It wasn’t a big cheesy grin, but it was a glimmer of the life spark, returning to the Doctor. 

In his office, he now was bending over, picking up the items that he had wiped off his desk in a fit of blinded rage and sorrow. To watch him, as he painstakingly picked up each piece, broken of not and set it back on the desk, he did so with care. The words that Saffron had written, in what would have been her final hours, finally touched his heart. Grief is not a simple emotion, but it is the start of a wave of many. There is a process to losing someone that we have to go through, in order to reach acceptance of our loss. Though Johnathon was an angel, he still knew human emotions, and displayed them like everyone else. 

A broken tea cup clinked in its saucer as Johnathon pushed himself up off the floor, and placed down the letters that were addressed to his children. Now was not the time for them to be read, as Levi was at the ball, and Gen already knew. Dealing with it in her own way. Johnathon raked his finger back through his greying hair, and sighed, seeing Josephine had been there the whole time. I felt terrible that he had let himself lose it so badly in front of her, when all she wanted to do was help. Little did she know, he needed her. Though blinded by the earlier rant, she had offered her gift, to take the pain away. Johnathon had suffered enough, but needed to go on. He had patients, he had cases and he had his children, as well as his friends. His life should not end, because Saffron’s did. 

Coming out from behind the desk, he approached Josephine, his eyes finding hers, and he asked; 

“Take it away…please.” 

He reached for her hand, and moved to place it to his chest. Johnathon tilted his head, and hoped she would do what she offered. 

<3>

(Thread Change)

xOEsmeOx

Juliette continued to lead Isabella by her arm down the streets of London, her mind set on heading towards the Cathedral where she felt her most calm. Other than when she was with Edward, of course. Sighing, she turned to look at her best friend with an inquiring look. “Bella, be honest with me. Do you think I am capable of true love?” Though she had never revealed to her best friend of her dark past times of killing women and angels while ripping their organs out, Isabella was still aware that she fed on Edward greedily and that she had to live off of the blood and hatred of others. Looking ahead as they walked, she continued“It was once so different with us…I was so free, so uninhibited with him. He knew everything…and…” Juliette began to blush darkly “The way I would react to his kisses and caresses…” Looking up at the sky, she whined “Why oh why am I suddenly cursed with…guilt? Is this what that is?” Shaking her head, she faced her friend. “I pushed him away today. After I let him into my very soul, I crushed his heart he so eagerly offers me.” A frown tugged her lips down as she felt a sudden ache in her chest. Pain…Pain? She wasn’t in any pain. Realizing that the mental link between her and Edward was still strong, she was getting a glimpse of his feelings.

And boy, was she almost knocked to her knees by the intensity of the hurt she had caused him. Gasping, she clutched her chest as the necklace began to burn her skin. A moan escaped her as she clawed at herself. Lifting the necklace, she clenched her fists around it before the pain began to slowly decrease. Anger. Now there was anger. Juliette looked to Isabella with fear in her eyes. “I really think I made a bloody mess of things…”

Isabella followed after Juliette happily, a grin placed permanently on her lips, it seemed. As her friend turned to her, the shifter looked at her friend curiously. “Of course. Why wouldn’t you be capable of it?” As they began walking again, the shifter frowned a bit and listened to Juliette intently. “If he makes you feel like that, then why are you essentially punishing yourself? Who cares what your family will think? You are yourself. No one else. I’m sure you can fix things, somehow.”

As Juliette suddenly gasped and lurched forward in pain, Isabella jumped forward and supported her body. “What? What’s going on, Juliette?” Now, the shifter, too, was a little scared. She didn’t have to time to say much else, though, for the sound of something moving behind them made Isabella whip around to look behind them. Seeing the two demons, her eyes narrowed slightly and she glared at them. She’d never encountered them before – so she was on guard completely.