Homecoming [closed]

[Rhiannon]

***Rhiannon, Raven & Jeremy, first half saved from the first site, second from the invisionfree site***

“Raven, wait up!” Sylvia cried, running up the Grand Staircase after her little sister.

Pausing a moment, Raven looked back to find Sylvia lagging behind again.

“No, you hurry up, slow poke!” she teased, sticking her tongue out at her.

“But mother said not to run - it’s not ladylike!” Sylvia reminded her, pausing a moment to catch her breath.

“She also said not to yell!” Raven hollered back at her, grinning.

Sylvia sighed as she watched an energetic Raven resume her race up the stairs, and a moment later she was chasing after her again. Losing sight of her little sister, she began to panic - what if Raven got lost? Just then, the raven-haired child jumped out at her from around the corner with a yell. Sylvia jumped about a foot in the air, and Raven succumbed to a fit of the giggles. Sylvia smiled - it was rather funny. Raven’s laugh proved contagious, and it wasn’t long before both girls were laughing so hard their sides ached.

“Come on, let’s find papa,” Raven announced once she’d caught her breath, taking off yet again with Sylvia close behind her.

It wasn’t long before they caught sight of him in the first-class smoking room, talking to some of the other gentlemen. Raven moved to go in, but Sylvia stopped her.

“Raven, we can’t go in there.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“It’s for gentlemen only - ladies aren’t allowed in there,” Sylvia told her seriously.

Raven merely made a face at her sister before breaking free of her and racing into the smoking room.

“Papa!” she cried happily.

Hearing his daughter’s voice, Henry turned to find her running toward him and quickly scooped her up into his arms and placed her in his lap, where she quickly claimed his gold pocket watch to play with.

“Well now, what has my little Rae-Rae been up to? Not any mischief I hope,” Henry said with a twinkle in his eye...

Raven awoke with a start as the plane set down, and quickly moved further back into the shadows to avoid being seen when someone came to collect the cargo. Pulling out a beautiful gold pocket watch, her eyes briefly flashed an icy blue as she traced the lion’s head engraved upon it. Smiling sadly, she checked the time. It was after dark.

Good... Raven thought to herself as she tucked the precious pocket watch safely away. It would be easier to get back to the mansion that way.

Just then the door opened and a young man stepped in. Silently getting to her feet, Raven stealthily made her way toward him, careful to keep to the shadows. When she was not even a foot from him, she knocked him in the head with the butt of her pistol. He crumpled to the floor of the cargo plane without a sound, and Raven cautiously peered outside. Finding that the coast was clear, she dropped to the ground and swiftly departed from the airport. She couldn’t wait to see the mansion again.

I just hope nothing terrible has happened... Try as she might, Raven could not shake the feeling of dread she’d got when there was no answer at the mansion. She hoped it was merely the result of all that had happened in Budapest, but...

***

Raven’s heart lifted as she caught sight of the mansion. Part of her wanted to run the rest of the way home, but a sense of reluctance gripped her, causing her to pause. Would Rhiannon be happy to see her, or would she resent her for surviving where her mother had not? She knew Kahn had already informed Rhiannon of Amelia’s death, and she was glad - she would not have known how to tell her. But had he mentioned that she had survived? Raven wished she could have asked him before he left with most of the other Death Dealers. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this nervous.

Well, you have to face her some time. It may as well be now, Raven told herself, continuing to make her way toward the mansion. It was beginning to snow.

Raven was just beginning to allow herself to look forward to a nice long bath and sleeping in her own bed after spending about 48 hours on a cargo plane when she got her first close-up look at the mansion. She nearly stopped breathing. Windows were broken and boarded up and the mansion looked an all around mess. Death Dealers seemed to be everywhere, though Raven was distinctly aware of the fact that a mortal never would have seen most of them - she’d never seen security so tight.

So the massacre on the train wasn’t the only attack... she absently thought to herself, stunned. At least now she knew why no one had answered the phone.

It took her a moment to get over her shock, and now Raven did run, covering the remaining distance to the mansion in seconds. Letting herself in, Raven rushed into the front hall only to come sliding to a halt as she realized she didn’t know where to go next. She needed to report to Rhiannon, who would also be able to tell her what had happened, but where would Rhiannon be?

_______________________________________________________

The Death Dealers trolled the grounds in pairs as the night descended again. It had barely been two full days since the attack on the mansion. Repairs hadn't even been planned. They had boarded up the windows to block the sun but little more. Glass had been swept up and the wounded were all healed or nearly healed. So many had died.

As cocky and self-assured as Jeremy usually was he had left his business in the hands of it's human manager and was actually taking part in coven affairs for a change. He had taken charge of directing those lesser than himself in such tasks as running the dishwasher and sweeping up the glass. Identifying the dead and making sure everyone kept from one another's throats. Already there had been a few brawls and arguments over various things from someone hording what was left of the weaponry, to the use of the parlor.

He was pretty tired by the time Raven arrived. The most time he had taken for himself was to shower that morning and he had caught about an hour long nap that afternoon before being called to meet with Rhiannon about the handling of all vampire owned businesses that couldn't be handled from within the mansion. Those few who owned restaurants, pubs, shops and such had to make arrangements for them to either be closed or handled by others for the next seven days. Rhiannon wanted no vampire to leave the premises without permission unless they were a Death Dealer or in Death Dealer care.

Things were finally just settling into the hum of their waking hours when an alert came out that there was a stranger on the premises. As it turned out the stranger was quickly identified as Raven, who had been assumed dead. Jeremy had rushed from Rhiannon's office, down the stairs and came to a halt just in time to catch sight of Raven in the hallway. He might have always been an arrogant man-slut around the mansion with other female vampires but with Raven his attitude was completely different. They had a secret between them and though it had been said more than once only an elder could turn a human, Raven was in fact Jeremy's offspring. Born of his blood as a vampire. He had saved her from a life she had not wanted because he understood her pain, understood why the caged bird sings. Bringing her to the safety of the coven they had perpetuated the lie that he had found her a fellow castoff of a sire who had no longer wanted them and he had looked after her like an older brother would have.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," the vampire crossed his arms over his chest and grinned, his fangs glinting in the soft lighting of the hallway. "And here we thought you were dead, Rae."

Skipping the last step he joined her in the hallway and in spite of himself allowed a sense of relief to fill him. Losing friends was not new to any of the vampires, but knowing Raven was one of those with Amelia he had been waiting for the decision to be made what to do about them. Dropping his arms, Jeremy closed the distance between them slowly and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Hugging her delicately as if she were made of glass he let a sigh he hadn't known he had been holding escape. "How are you kiddo? Rhiannon's an absolute mess," he admitted in a whisper, knowing that Raven was likely to be concerned about his patron. "She's up there waiting for you in her office. Started crying again when word came through you were on the grounds."

Letting the small vampiress go he took a step back and ran a hand over his jaw and neck as if sizing her up. "How bad was it?"

__________________________________________________________


Raven felt a rush of relief at the sound of Jeremy's voice - he was okay. Her face broke out into a genuine smile as she whirled around to find him part-way down the stairs. Jeremy was just about the only one she let call her Rae, and hearing it now gave her a sense of comfort, though she couldn't have explained why. She hadn't realized just how much she'd missed him until now, as he crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. Raven knew it was childish, but she didn't care - here, she felt safe. She'd missed that feeling after her father died. She'd always wondered what her life would have been like if she'd had a brother. Now she knew. Hugging him back tightly, Raven could have sworn she heard Jeremy sigh with relief.

"How are you kiddo?" Jeremy asked her, then added in a whisper, "Rhiannon's an absolute mess. She's up there waiting for you in her office. Started crying again when word came through you were on the grounds."

Raven bit her lip nervously as he let her go, only to mentally kick herself as she accidentaly punctured her bottom lip with her fang (Why do I keep doing that?). She quickly wiped the blood away, hoping Jeremy hadn't noticed. Raven felt so guilty - she couldn't help it. After all, she had been there to protect Amelia. And now she'd made her friend cry.

"How bad was it?" Jeremy finally asked.

Raven's eyes took on a far-away look as she remembered what had happened on the train. Shaking her head, she turned her gaze to the floor as she answered, "Bad. And I didn't even see the aftermath..." Suddenly looking up at him, she anxiously asked, "Is she mad at me?"

She was beginning to feel like crying again - she could feel the tears welling up in her big blue eyes - but she fought it admirably. Raven did not cry in front of people, not even Jeremy. Not if she could help it. The last two days had simply been too much.

[Rhiannon]

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"Bad. And I didn't even see the aftermath..."

Frowning, Jeremy nodded and tucked his hand under the opposite arm. He wasn't surprised. If the attack had been bad enough to destroy a full contingent of Death Dealers, the counsel and Amelia herself... the mongrels must have had an army. Noticing the far away look in Raven's eyes he decided not to press her for details. As much as he wanted to know the details of the attack and to find out how Raven had survived and made it back to New York so quickly, he knew it could wait until she could talk to Rhiannon.

"Is she mad at me?"

Jeremy looked momentarily baffled, before shaking his head back and forth adamantly. "No, not at all. She's just-" stopping, Jeremy tried to think of the right word for it. "We've still had no contact with Europe, it's as if they've completely cut us off. They haven't have they? I mean we assumed that's why you were back so soon. Did Viktor send you back with a mesage for the coven? For Rhiannon?"

His look was hopeful, but he had a feeling growing in his gut that being cut off from Europe might have been kinder than the truth. Viktor and Marcus' dislike of one another had never been a secret, but if forced into a corner he was sure that they would band together to reunite their race. But if that was the case then why had no word yet come?

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Raven felt a wave of relief when Jeremy told her that Rhiannon was not mad at her. She didn't know what she would have done if she was, though she couldn't have blamed her. As the threat of tears began to dissipate, Raven took a deep breath. She didn't even notice that Jeremy had stopped talking until he started again.

"We've still had no contact with Europe, it's as if they've completely cut us off. They haven't have they? I mean we assumed that's why you were back so soon. Did Viktor send you back with a message for the coven? For Rhiannon?"

Raven couldn't have looked more surprised. True, she hadn't really had the chance to talk to anyone, having left before most of the Death Dealers returned from their assault, but it hadn't seemed as if they planned on cutting them off. But why wouldn't they have contacted them? Raven began to absently play with her hair as she tried to figure it out. Finally, she shook her head. When had things become so complicated?

"I never actually got to see Viktor," she began, figuring she had to start somewhere. "He'd gone off somewhere with the Death Dealers, and I left before they got back. I was just so worried when no one answered my calls... I didn't get the feeling they would do something like cut us off, though - they were outraged by what had happened on the train, and the few people I talked to were really helpful. They even helped me find another Death Dealer uniform, seeing as mine was ruined." Her hand unconsciously moved toward the healed wound on her right side. She hoped the scar wouldn't last long...

"What happened here?" Raven suddenly asked, unable to wait any longer. "Is Aslan okay?" She couldn't bear it if anything had happened to her beloved horse.

__________________________________________________________


"Oh," Jeremy frowned. He had been hoping that there was some kind of news from Budapest to ease some of the weight on Rhiannon's shoulders. Between the loss of her mother, being now classed as an Elder and the responsibility that would entail and the aftermath of the attack on the mansion she had become a bit of a wreck. In fact she had snuck off to the human world the night before to dine away from the mansion. Of course that'd always been a bad habit of hers. One her mother chastised her for when she was aware of it. But Rhiannon was not Amelia and no one could force a square peg into a round hole.

"What happened here? Is Aslan okay?"

Opening his mouth to reply to her first question, Jeremy almost choked on his own tongue at her second. He hadn't really thought about the horses himself. In fact he was pretty sure the lycans had done some damage to the stables, the dogs would eat horses if they were starving but these had not been. At the very least they had probably let them loose to cause more confusion but Jeremy had been inside when the attack had happened. His own part in the fighting had been small, it was taking charge of the kitchens and protecting their blood stores he had been involved with. The horses hadn't even entered his mind until Raven had asked. Feeling bad about it his chuckle faded. "Always worried about your damned horse. If you'd been here I dare say you'd have let the dogs overrun the mansion so long as your horse was safe." He shook his head teasing her.

"To be honest, I don't know what's happened to the stables, I've been cooped up here since we learned of what happened. You'd best go see Carlyle when you get done with Rhiannon, he's been handling the repairs outside the mansion and the salvaging of what can be taken from the DDC. Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself..."

Beckoning her to follow with one hand he lead the way back up the stairs the way he had come as he lowered his voice to a softer tone. Here and there people lingered in doorways and sat at windows. Those who were not intimately involved in the inner circle of the counsel, Amelia or one of her children tended not to be kept in the know. The Death Dealers themselves were too busy doing guard duty to be aware of half of what was going on. Anyone who could was trying to find out little tidbits from Jeremy and those who happened to get included by fluke. Not that he oculd blame them, it's just that there was a lot that even the inner circle did not know yet.

"We received the call about the attack on the train and-" he paused somewhat reverently, swallowing heavily. "-Amelia's murder..."

Leading Raven up the stairs to the top floor he continued to fill her in on the details of the attack. From the initial call and Rhiannon's upset, to the sudden appearance of fully changed lycans on the grounds and the bombing of the Death Dealer Compound. When they reached the door to Rhiannon's office Jeremy stopped and hung back. He hated seeing her lose her composure and he hoped she had gathered herself into a more calm state. The door was open an inch so he knocked his knuckles lightly against the heavy oaken surface.

__________________________________________________________


Try though she might, Rhiannon had barely been able to keep herself from falling apart over the past few days. She was weak. Not the heir her mother should have had. Why couldn't Evelynn have been named heir? She surely wanted it more than Rhiannon had. What with Nikolai and Sonja, it seemed fitting that it be Amelia's heirs to die next. Yet why had they all lived?

Rhiannon stared out the window into the dark yard below. Patrols of two Death Dealers to a team prowled the grounds watching for any sign of another lycan incursion. A few snowflakes dotted the sky but were melting before they stuck to the ground. A year ago she would have found some excuse to shirk her duties as a Dealer on a night like this and run off to Legends to enjoy a night free from Amelia's grasp. The rebel daughter, she was far more interested in being a Death Dealer and enjoying her immortal life in simple pleasures than deciding who sat closest to her at the next formal dinner. Playing petty mind games and engaging in orgies was hardly her idea of a good time.

Leaning her forehead against the cool glass she wondered what was keeping Jeremy. He'd gone to bring Raven up to her, which she appreciated greatly. Knowing that the young vampire had been there at her mother's end had sparked a torrent of tears. Embarrassed she had sent Jeremy off to greet Raven, wanting to settle herself before they spoke. When at last the knock came at the door she closed her eyes and sighed a resigned sigh, her breath leaving a thin film on the window that faded as she turned.

"Enter," she called out, sounded a lot more like a Death Dealer and less like the well groomed heir she was supposed to be. When Jeremy pushed the door open and came inside she couldn't help but feel as tired as she looked.

__________________________________________________________


Simon emerged from customs feeling slightly violated but none the worst for wear. A man’s bag was his own private kingdom as far as he was concerned, and not the province of Roseanne Barr’s uniformed clone – or her shade-wearing, gum chewing compatriot.

Still, there was nothing untoward in his hand-luggage, which was all he had thought to bring, and he had endured the search and answered their tedious questions. It irked him, however; today, as back in his life, Saracens were still the enemy, and one could plainly see he was not one of those.

Things went from bad to worse; he scanned the line bored looking chauffeurs, holding up their placards, and there was no “de Carnac” to be seen, which meant that transport had not been arranged for him. He supposed this was merely underscoring the fact that despite his longevity, good service and the heroics of days gone by, he was now considered to be unworthy of treatment befitting a vampire of higher status.

Irritation mingled with fear in Simon’s gut. On the one hand, he theorised that it was hardly worth the trouble to send a car for someone you planned to drain of his lifesblood later that evening at a celebratory slap-up binge. On the other, this merely smacked of the reasons that he had withdrawn himself from the hub of power and settled in London. Dressing up in silly Victorian clothes, plotting and scheming may be the Romanian way, but it was not his way. He didn’t have the patience for centuries long Machiavellian plots that – by the time they had come to fruition – the instigators had actually forgotten the initial point. Amelia loved that sort of carry on, and he could well imagine that lack of a chauffer was indicative of a velvet glove in the face.

Things would have been better if Viktor was awake; Simon had always got on well with the warlord. They had the same tastes in wine, women and entertainment and Viktor could be counted on deal with matters in a way that could be understood, mercifully free of gamesmanship.

But Viktor was not awake, and Simon would just have to play the silly game until he was rebuked or killed. Either way, it was not going to be a pleasant experience, but he told himself for the umpteenth time that he had had a good innings. It was getting a little hollow, and he was annoyed with himself for feeling afraid…and powerless. Part of the Law was to obey the hierarchy, that was his duty, and duty had been his watchword in life as well as unlife. The vampiric cross to bear, one had to do as one was told, or else things went to rack and ruin. Which was all very well until you were walking to your own execution. The fact was that the only time rebellion acceptable was if you won. If things came to it, he would challenge her, he decided. She might be more powerful than him, and all the odds were in her favour, but he felt he would be doing himself an injustice if he just meekly went to his fate without a blow being struck. And he’d heard nasty rumours that she had taken to drinking pre-fabricated blood, which was marevellous in pinch, but in his opinion deadened the hunter – nay killer – instinct.

“Nil desperandum, Simon,” he said to himself. “Exitus acta probat.”

After nearly being run over several times – he had forgotten that they drove on the wrong side of the road in the colonies – he managed to hail a taxi, and pleasantly surprised to find that in New York as well as London, the driver was an Indian who could have been brother or cousin to any of the drivers back at home, save that this one called him “buddy” instead of “mate.” He passed the turbaned silhouette a note with the address he had been given, and settled back in the leather seat closed his eyes.

One hundred and twenty dollars later (tourist rates, he assumed), he found himself standing outside a rather ostentatious estate that hovered somewhere between grandiose and naff. On the grounds he could see black clad forms stalking about the place. A human would not have noticed them, of course, but they were there, and he would bet a pound to a penny if he could see them, they could see him. It would appear that there was something rotten in the state of New York – closer examination of the surrounds showed gouge marks on the walls, spent shell casings on the ground, mute evidence of a recent fire fight.

Well, that was none of his affair, he decided. He straightened his tie and marched up to main gates, pressed the buzzer, gazing up at the blinking red eye of the security camera. A bored, metallic voice demanded to know who he was.

And that, he thought, was the trouble with never using one’s given name. He did all the time at home. But he was not at home. Simon. Simon Who? Simon says? He sighed. “Simon,” he said. “Here to meet with Amelia and her coterie.”


__________________________________________________________


He was supposed to be patrolling the grounds of the mansion, supposed to be alert and acutely aware of every little movement around him, but as hard as Jace tried to focus on his duties at the moment he found himself distracted by the one thing he was trying the hardest not to think about. Isabel. She had disappeared after he had rendered the female ripper who had tried to attack them in the kitchen, said that she would take her to a safe house and question the dog. She had given him that pleading look which he could not resist, agreed to her little plan and had even covered for her when a record was being taken of who as live, dead, and injured. When she had returned a day later she was bloodied and even more injured then when she had left his protection. He had tried to get what had happened out of her but all that she would tell him was that the beast came to before she had a chance to secure her and attacked before escaping. He had tried to help her but she pushed him away, tell him that she was tired and needed to sleep. It had stung him more then he wished to admit to himself that she had rejected him in such a way in her wounded condition, that she didn’t need to be close to him as he wished to be near her at that moment. He had allowed his heart to open up to her, not an easy task considering the harsh and cold exterior he displayed. He had let the dangerous beauty in only to be tossed aside when she was finished with him. He had come to realize since that night when she shut the door in his face that he had been a pawn in one of her games. He had fallen perfectly into her trap and now had to deal with the consequences, not so much with the other coven members finding out but dealing with the emptiness that was once again present in his heart.

Snow was gently falling, melting as it hit the ground and the Death Dealers that were silently walking the grounds of the once exquisite mansion. The grass was dug up in spots where the older lycans who had shifted tore at the ground with their huge clawed paws. A large pile of rubble was being sorted through and piled up where the Death Dealer compounds once sat, it would be rebuilt but it was the last of the coven’s concerns at the moment. The majestic gardens that Amelia loved so dearly had also suffered in the fight, Jace was sure that they Lycans had done the damage out of spite. Amelia he still found it difficult to believe that she was gone, that she and her guards had been wiped out. Well all expect for little Raven who had arrived at the mansion only minutes ago looking sad and tired from her journey. He had nodded at her as she passed by him at the gate solemnly, she had managed a the tiniest of smiles for him and he appreciated her kindness. He expected the rest of the night to be quiet but when he heard a cars engine growing louder he snapped himself out of his self indulgent thoughts and emotions pausing on the spot. The icy flakes landed in his hair, on his eyelashes, and sat on the shoulders of his leather coat. His arm and leg were still healing, it would take sometime since some of the ultra violet liquid had spilt on his flesh making the wounds far worse then they truly were. He could not believe that both sides had weapons that could cause that much damage to either species, if it hadn’t been for the call from Khan warning them of the new uv ammo that the Lycans were using they would have suffered far worse losses.

Jace strode across the lawn with a swift silence that wouldn’t have been noticed by the human eye. A cab pulled up the gates that surround the mansion and a man emerged from the back of the vehicle. Strange he thought to himself and slowly made his way to the gate. He heard the voice over the intercom demand to know who this man was. “Simon. Here to meet with Amelia and her coterie.” Jace raised an eyebrow which was very unlike him, but then again he was very much unlike his usual self these days. ”That would be difficult. Amelia is dead.” He paused as he stared at the man through the bars. ”Who did you say you were again?” Jace asked him, although the man was familiar he couldn’t put his finger on how. Feeling very protective of the coven and their home he raised his gun so it sat across his chest at the ready if this Simon tried anything, he refused to lose anything else and though this man was clearly a vampire he didn’t know where his allegiance lied.


__________________________________________________________


Raven childishly stuck her tongue out at Jeremy in response to his teasing. He knew perfectly well that Aslan was one of her best friends, horse or not, and her friends ment more to her than anything else in the world. When he admitted he didn't know what had happened to the stables, it took every ounce of self control she possessed to keep from rushing out to check on her beloved horse right that minute - she needed to see Rhiannon, and she still wanted to hear about what had happened. Assuring herself that Aslan was fine, Raven followed Jeremy up the stairs and listened to his story intently. Normally such a story would have shocked her, but after everything that had happened... She was so distracted by Jeremy's account of events that she didn't even realize they'd reached the door to Rhiannon's office until he knocked. Raven began to nervously play with her long dark hair. She hoped Rhiannon was alright. She could still remember when news of her own mother's death had reached her. They'd never been close (Understatement of the year... Raven absently thought to herself.), but she was still her mother. And she hadn't had to worry about taking her place as an elder, or her sister trying to usurp the position. Again, she wondered when everything had become so complicated.

"Enter."

Following Jeremy into the room, Raven couldn't help but think Rhiannon looked tired. She should get some rest, she thought to herself. Let someone else handle things for a few hours. Raven also thought she could use a hug, but she wasn't sure that would be appropriate and she was nervous enough as it was. Still playing with her hair, she suddenly realized that it was a bit wet - no doubt from the snow.

Giving Rhiannon a sad and rather nervous smile, she said, "I'm really sorry about..." For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to say it. "Are you okay?"

Of course she's not okay... Raven thought, annoyed with herself. Why can't someone come up with a better way to ask that question?


__________________________________________________________


”That would be difficult. Amelia is dead.”

Simon stared at the man in abject shock for a moment. It was preposterous… absurd and probably some sort of test of his loyalties…

He pulled himself together. Something in the man’s demeanour gave truth to his pronouncement, and the way he brandished his weapon was mute evidence to his edginess. A sense of warmth and well-being flooded through Simon; God worked in mysterious ways, after all, and the sudden demise of the possible architect of his destruction was proof of divine provinance. “In Deo speramus,” he thought to himself.

"Who did you say you were again?"

The guard interrupted his somewhat self-congratulatory reverie. The fellow’s manner was abrupt, bordering on rude, and Simon did not fail to notice the Aussie whine in his voice. He was probably still upset about the Ashes, but that was hardly any need to be confrontational. “I am Simon, of House de Carnac,” he replied, refusing to let the guard rile him. “I was instructed – by Amelia – to report here. Evidently before her…demise. That would explain why she’s not been returning my calls,” he added, almost to himself. “At any rate, your vigilance is commendable, but do you really think I’d be prowling around outside a building seething with death dealers armed with little more than a toothbrush if I planned on storming the place? Open the gate, there’s a good fellow, and advise me who is in charge here, so that I might report as ordered. Or, if it will help your self-esteem, you can make me wait here whilst you go and check with your Master, and then open the gate. I’ll be suitably chagrined and impressed with your laconic demeanour now, if that will speed things up?”

That was probably uncalled for, but one had to stand up to bullies, or else one would find oneself being ridden over roughshod. But, he glanced at the taxi…who cared anyway? Amelia was dead, he was off the hook, and as far as he was concerned, if this mob wanted him gone, he was more than prepared than to do an about face and return home. Judging by the looks of the place they evidently had not got their Lycan infestation problems under control, and that meant that New York was a dangerous place.

The guard was still sizing him up. “Well?" he asked, a hint of exasperation seeping into his voice. “The meter is running, you know.”

[Rhiannon]

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"Enter."

As many times as he had heard that word it never quite sounded as welcoming as when she said it. Even with the inflection and tone of exhausted misfortune, Jeremy couldn't help but momentarily admire the way her command pulled at him unwittingly. Pushing the heavy door open he kept his expression neutral as he moved aside to allow Raven to enter. When the younger vampire had come in he quietly shut the door behind her and went to sit in a chair by the empty fire place. Most winter nights a fire burned in the hearth and he could smell the old ashes. There was nothing welcoming about the place, but it allowed him to look back and forth between the two most important females in his life freely, while out of the way.

"I'm really sorry about..."

Jeremy winced ever so slightly at the words. He knew Raven felt wretched about what had happened. She was a good hearted woman, who had never quite fit in with her human world. There was a youthful liveliness in her that even being mutated into a creature fo the night could not strip away. As he watched her nervous expression grow his eyes moved to Rhiannon, noting the stiffness in her posture. The formality she was hiding behind. As much as it was best kept secret, Jeremy likely knew her better than she knew herself. One of the few to see her weaker side he knew that while she and her sisters were not close to their mother emotionally, a mother was a mother. When one expected to never see the death of their parent they were completely unprepared for this experience.

"Are you okay?"

He wanted to speak up, to ask if either wanted refreshments. Anything to make Rhiannon and Raven more comfortable. Yet, Jeremy knew that even a glass of wine could not sooth the pain of the discussion that was about to begin. He thought he saw a ruby hued glimmer in the corner of Rhiannon's eye and cleared his throat gently. "If you'll excuse me ladies. I'll bring some kind of refreshment, I imagine Rae you're famished after your journey and m'lady Rhiannon hasn't had time to even think of repast."

Politely, excusing himself from the room, he let his eyes linger briefly over Rhiannon as he often did. He was so cautious in his worshipful obsession that he had learned to do this in a way that none would think a thing of it, but these interludes sated his need to be near her so that he could pass the moments they were apart in relative peace.

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Not moving from the window, Rhiannon gave a half-bow in greeting to Raven. It wasn't expected of her, but she had always believed in showing respect not just to those above her but rather to all. It was her way of earning the respect of those around her. So far it had been an effective practice. While the Death Dealers had no formal leader, she had always been respected for her authority as Amelia's heir and she was often looked to because she had proved herself to be very selfless.

"I'm really sorry about..."

Rhiannon's lips pursed slightly, as she found her mouth suddenly very dry. Everyone had been saying that the last few days but this was the first time it had felt as if the person meant what they had said. Unlike the groveling masses who were now under her thumb as they had been under Amelia's, Raven had reason to be sorry. She had been there. While Rhiannon would never make a trial of it, the fact remained that Raven had failed to protect Amelia and the counsel. Even if Rhiannon would not hold it over her head, Evelynn and Ivy very well might. The whispers would follow the young Death Dealer everywhere. She would pass no whispering crowd without wondering if they weren't whispering about her failure. Having had some rebelious moments in her youth that had made her a source of whispers on occasion she knew the discomfort of it.

Her stiffness couldn't ease under the concerned gaze of her protege. Since Jeremy had brought the fledgling vampire to the Coven for protection, she had been Raven's mentor. In many ways Raven was more a sister to her than those she shared blood with. Of course she did not know that through her mother's blood passed on to Steven then on to Jeremy and from her ward to Raven they were kin in some manner. But then weren't they all united by one bloodline? The blood of Marcus Corvinus, the father of them all.

"Are you okay?"

The tingling sensation rising in her body sprang to her eyes, betraying the calmness of her composure. In his usual timely fashion this was when Jeremy chose to excuse himself. In his own way he made her feel calmer, but at this moment she found herself playing the role even for him. Giving an appreciative look to his retreating back she began to move away from the window to sit down behind her desk. The desk was a carved oak monstrosity that Rhiannon truly disliked. It made her feel small and it's fine victorian styling was far from fitting with her more clean-lined conservative style. But like much of the furniture in the mansion it had been chosen by her mother and it served it's purpose in such a way that she'd never seen the point of getting something she liked.

Resting her elbows on the desktop she pressed her head gently against her hands and sighed. "I'm as well as can be expected considering what has happened. But I truly appreciate your concern and will relay it to my sisters."

Lowering her hands she looked to see if Raven had taken a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk and continued. "Who could have known the wolves had gotten so smart? Bloody animals," she cursed and shook her head sadly. "I'd ask you to tell me everything but..."

Rhiannon closed her eyes and moistened her lips, her hands clenching into fists for a moment as if she were watching the scene behind her eyelids. "The truth is I'd rather not know, it can't bring her back and it won't change the fact that the lycans have finally found a way to harness daylight and use it against us."

__________________________________________________________


Raven did her best to ignore the hint of tears in Rhiannon's eyes, knowing that it was not the time for a hug. Not yet. She hated to see a friend in pain, especially when there was nothing she could do to help. And she couldn't bring the dead back to life. With his usual excellent timing, Jeremy chose this moment to excuse himself, and Raven felt some of her anxiety lift at the sound of her old nickname. Silently thanking Jeremy, she visibly relaxed as her father's face came to mind. Even after all these years, her memory of him had not faded, and she could see his deep blue eyes dancing with laughter as clearly as if he were standing before her. Rhiannon moved to sit down, and Raven suddenly found herself wishing Rhiannon could have had a father like him (or at least known her's) as she followed suit.

"I'm as well as can be expected considering what has happened. But I truly appreciate your concern and will relay it to my sisters," Rhiannon finally answered.

Raven appreciated the reply - if someone had asked her such a stupid question, she probably would have just glared.

"Who could have known the wolves had gotten so smart? Bloody animals. I'd ask you to tell me everything but... The truth is I'd rather not know, it can't bring her back and it won't change the fact that the lycans have finally found a way to harness daylight and use it against us."

"Ultraviolet ammunition," Raven muttered, shaking her head. The Death Dealer that had told her of Amelia's death had mentioned it. She could still hardly believe it.

A part of Raven wanted to defend herself, to tell Rhiannon that she had tried to protect Amelia, only to have that giant brute send her flying into the wall. Never had she been so aware of the importance of size in a battle. But another part of her stubbornly refused to "make excuses," and that side won easily. It had not yet occurred to the young Death Dealer that the rest of the coven might hold her failure against her. All she had cared about was whether or not her friend would.

"Jeremy mentioned you've still had no contact with Europe," Raven said after a few moments of silence. "I can't understand it. I didn't get a chance to talk to very many people, but it certainly didn't seem like they would cut us off. Viktor had taken most of the Death Dealers on some sort of assault, I'm guessing to avenge Amelia. It just... doesn't make any sense. Do you suppose the lycans could have something to do with it? Maybe they've been intercepting the calls or something?"

__________________________________________________________


He had not meant to tell the man on the other side of the gate that Amelia was dead so abruptly but it was what it was and there was no sugar coating the truth any longer, especially with the ruin that laid just beyond the gate. Jace had an interesting relationship with Amelia, for it was she that gave permission to his beloved Amara to pursue him and in the end make him what he was today. He was grateful that she had allowed Amara to come into his life and to change it in a way that he could never imagine, and he respected the coven leader greatly because of her strength, but there was a coldness to her personality that he had felt the sting of at times. He had found himself pondering many times since she had left for Budapest why she had not granted his request to be part of her party, he still wondered if she would be alive if he had been there to protect her.

“I am Simon, of House de Carnac,” He answered Jace’s question as if insulted by the fact that he did not know who he was. Jace remained stone faced and unfaltering, he could care less which house he was from, what really mattered was why he had arrived. “I was instructed – by Amelia – to report here. Evidently before her…demise. That would explain why she’s not been returning my calls,” Jace almost wanted to laugh at how important this individual thought he was, but not even an amused look crossed his face as Simon continued to ramble on. “At any rate, your vigilance is commendable, but do you really think I’d be prowling around outside a building seething with death dealers armed with little more than a toothbrush if I planned on storming the place? Open the gate, there’s a good fellow, and advise me who is in charge here, so that I might report as ordered. Or, if it will help your self-esteem, you can make me wait here whilst you go and check with your Master, and then open the gate. I’ll be suitably chagrined and impressed with your laconic demeanour now, if that will speed things up?”

If Simon had hoped to impress or intimidate him with complimenting him, then challenging and belittling him, he had failed. “Well? The meter is running, you know.” Seeing that he had very little patience for civilian vampires who though so highly of themselves he stepped aside and punched in the access code to open the main gate. Rhiannon could deal with him as she saw fit. The gates rolled back smoothly over the gravel driveway that led to the once impressive coven mansion. It will be impressive once more Jace thought to himself as he stepped around the open gate to escort Simon to the house. ”To answer your question of who’s in charge or who my master might be, it is Amelia’s oldest daughter Rhiannon.” His icy blue eyes cold and unflinching as the word master dripped off his tongue. He was not ashamed to serve Rhiannon as a Death Dealer as he had served her mother, his faithfulness would never waiver for he knew that she would be an excellent leader for the coven, maybe even better then Amelia. ”Follow me. I’ll see if she will see you or if I can escort you back out.”

He lead the way towards the mansion, the evidence of the battle still scarring the landscape. Jace didn’t even bother to glance at Simon as they walked before he informed him on what had occurred. ”The lycans attacked just before sunset two days ago. We were unprepared for such an occurrence as you can see from the damage, but we drove the filthy beasts off without losing to many.” He had lost count of who had been lost, but from the number of lycan bodies recovered the rippers had suffered a greater loss. Finally reaching the large estate he opened the front door and stepped inside, the true beauty and majesty of the entrance was gone as bullets had torn through it leaving little behind. ”Welcome to America.” He said as he walked further into the house.

__________________________________________________________


"Jeremy mentioned you've still had no contact with Europe."

Rhiannon slowly opened her eyes and swallowed heavily. This was the biggest weight weighing on her mind. She had no idea what Viktor wanted from her and what little she knew about him being wakened by Selene worried her. Had something gone terribly wrong? If she didn't have some answers by sunrise she was going to raid her mother's office. If anyone could tell her what was happening it would be Kraven. He was Viktor's steward in a sense and his reputation as the slayer of Lucian made him a bit of a legend in the vampire world.

"I can't understand it. I didn't get a chance to talk to very many people, but it certainly didn't seem like they would cut us off. Viktor had taken most of the Death Dealers on some sort of assault, I'm guessing to avenge Amelia. It just... doesn't make any sense. Do you suppose the lycans could have something to do with it? Maybe they've been intercepting the calls or something?"

Reaching out, Rhiannon picked up one of the remaining silver nitrate filled hollow-points and rolled it back and forth over the surface of the desk. She was frustrated that Raven knew so little. Ivy and Evelynn were likely to be twice as upset considering the situation, but even Evelynn wouldn't dare touch Raven. As well matched as the sisters were Evie was smarter than that. Going after Raven for her supposed incompetance would only divide the Coven further and could result in a war between their own kind.

"Whatever part they play in this it's going to be the death of them." Picking up the bullet she tossed it at Raven, letting the younger vampire catch it. "Before they attempted to massacre us on our own ground we started processing these. I don't know if you heard about Khan's developing them while you were in Europe, but they were all that saved us here."

__________________________________________________________


Deftly catching the bullet, Raven examined the deadly object with awe. Unbidden, the name "Wolf's-Bane" came to mind; the term would stubbornly stick. She was beginning to wish she'd remained in Budapest a bit longer to gather information. Raven hated to feel so useless. But when she hadn't been able to get through to Rhiannon or the mansion she'd been so afraid that something terrible had happened here as well that she couldn't bear to sit around and wait, doing nothing. And Elizabeth, the Death Dealer she'd spoken to, had seemed very understanding.

I acted rashly... the young vampiress admitted to herself. But she did, at least, know about this.

"They haven't even started mass-producing these yet," she said with a hint of pride for her coven, rolling the bullet back and forth between her thumb and index finger, watching the silver nitrate within. "Elizabeth was going to show me the prototype before I called, but it seemed to have gone missing."

Come to think of it, everyone had seemed a bit on-edge... At the time she'd attributed it to the massacre on the train, but what if she'd been wrong?

Placing the "Wolf's-Bane" back on Rhiannon's desk with a sigh, she somberly said, "I'm sorry. I guess I'm not much help. When I couldn't get a hold of you I didn't think of much else. But something definitely wasn't right. Everyone seemed a bit on-edge, and I should have found out why."

__________________________________________________________


The gate rolled open, as Simon knew it must. Death dealers, he mused, were like cats making a scent – marking their territory and so forth. Then again, he supposed, he could be considered one of their number. But that had all been a long time ago, and in England it was all quite different to the court of Budapest.

”To answer your question of who’s in charge or who my master might be, it is Amelia’s oldest daughter Rhiannon.”

“Really,” Simon responded, trying to remember if Amelia had had a child at all. Christ, that would have been 600 years ago. Well, this dolt probably didn’t have the mental capacity to lie…no, a quick glance into the flat, placid lake of his eyes proved that guile was beyond him. A perfect soldier, this one, he decided. Thick as two short planks.

”Follow me. I’ll see if she will see you or if I can escort you back out.”

Machismo, Machismo, Machismo.

Still, there were still orders to be obeyed, and the sooner he could get in front of this frightened little ingrate the sooner he could begone from this Godless country. Rhiannon. That was a Welsh name, surely. Damned if he could remember her at all.

The place was a mess. Certainly not what one would expect from vampiric society. In England, there were protocols that had to be adhered to, standards that had to met. Certainly, when a visiting dignitary was entertained, the utmost attention to form was accorded. Not in the colonies, evidently.

The lycans attacked just before sunset two days ago. We were unprepared for such an occurrence as you can see from the damage, but we drove the filthy beasts off without losing to many.”

Simon glanced around. “Yes, I see. In Insula Anglorum Semper paratoruum.. Old bean – they always attack when we are weak, you know. It’s the rule of war. A case of…trousers down? Still, as you say, you saw the dogs off, and that’s the main thing.” The Death dealer did not share his opinion, which was to be expected. Simon, for a moment, glanced skywards, expecting it to rain. After all, the Lord God must have sense of humour – vampirism was evidence of that, to be sure. It seemed to him as though the winds of fate had blown him here to take charge of an untenable situation. Evidently, that Amelia had more intelligence than even he had credited her for, and the fear in his gut had now been placed by annoyance. Amelia had realised her own fate, and had obviously known that these incompetents were incapable of defending themselves in the face of adversity.

And so She had sent them Simon.

”Welcome to America,”

Simon looked at the expressionless, thoughtless instrument of vampiric will. It would be so easy to belittle him, to make sport of him. But that would not be right. ”Thank you. Do you have a chapel here?”

It was a time to pray. Evidently God had sent him here for a Purpose.

__________________________________________________________


Looking thoughtful, Rhiannon rested her arms on the desk. This little tidbit she had shared left so many unanswered questions. As soon as Raven left she would try once more to reach Ordoghaz. Eventually someone had to answer. Eventually they had to tell her what was happening.

"You did what you thought was best," Rhiannon replied, her tone calm. "I do not doubt that in time we will find out what has happened, why Buda has been delayed in reaching us. If Marcus and Viktor have both been Awakened it is likely we will soon be visited."

The thought that both Elders might come to America both excited her and concerned her. Both men had intimidated her in the past and that was no small feat. Having both lost their heirs under tragic circumstances she worried that both would find reason to keep her from taking her mother's place. Then she realized it. If she did take her mother's place, soon she might be forced to return to the crypt where her mother rested the centuries away. Soon she would be put to rest for the next two-hundred years. She would have no choice but to obey and leave behind everything she knew.

"Are you ready to return to your duties here?" She asked Raven, the tiredness in her eyes carefully veiled. The truth was, the coven could use every Death Dealer they had. If it were not for her position as the heir she would be prowling the grounds or helping with the salvaging of their lost compound.

__________________________________________________________


Raven could not hide the fear in her eyes at the thought of Marcus or Viktor coming to America. At only 95 years of age, she hadn't lived to see the reign of any but Amelia, and the very thought of coming face to face with one of the revered elders terrified her. She was especially afraid of the warlord Viktor. Truth be told, Raven had been relieved to escape a meeting with him - he just sounded so fearsome, so intimidating. She found herself hoping that they would remain in Europe, where they belonged.

"Are you ready to return to your duties here?"

Resisting the sudden urge to salute, Raven nodded. "Of course! How can I help?" she asked, glad to finally be able to do something useful. Then she remembered Aslan, and added softly, "But might I check up on Aslan first? Do you know if he's alright?"

She was playing with her hair again, but didn't seem to have noticed it yet. She really didn't know what she would do if anything had happened to her beloved horse and friend.


__________________________________________________________


"Of course! How can I help?"

Her momentary hesitation kept Rhiannon from interupting, but she wasn't expecting the request that came.

"But might I check up on Aslan first? Do you know if he's alright?"

A look of momentary shock and concern filled Rhiannon's eyes. Though not as emotionally invested in the animals, she had always enjoyed horseback riding and often missed the days before the invention of the automobile. She could even remember her mother's prized horses from when she was a child. How her lycan squire would curry them until their coats shone in the moonlight. Their ebony mains as shiny as satin under their glistening armor. Back then they had been cared for by lycan servants. Now it was left to the lower ranked vampires to handle the more menial tasks.

Clearing her throat she nodded. "I'm afraid no one has thought to check the stables. We have had, well..." she felt bad admitting to the young horse lover that the care of the animals had not seemed important compared to the incineration of the dead and the salvaging of the Death Dealer compound. "We've had many other things to keep us from doing so."

Giving a sad smile she met Raven's eyes. "Perhaps that is how you can help me, we need someone to see to the stables and care for any of the injured horses and attend their other needs. I know it's very selfish of me, but I would like you out of harm's way now that I know you're alive." The scarlet flood began to tickle her eyes again and she swallowed heavily.

She had two younger sister that she cared for very much, so why was it that others filled their shoes as her friends and family? Banishing the painful thought she hoped Raven was up to the task and would be safer in the care of the animals.

[Rhiannon]

__________________________________________________________


Raven couldn't help but feel a moment's panic at Rhiannon's admission to the condition of the horses going unchecked after the attack, and tugged a little too hard on the bit of hair she'd been playing with. Now that it had been brought to her attention, she immediately ceased the nervous habit and folded her hands in her lap in a way that spoke of her mother's teachings. Of course, she understood why the horses would have been overlooked. After everything that had happened, she probably wouldn't have thought of it either were it not for Aslan. Oh, please let him be alright! she silently begged. The beautiful Arabian was one of her best friends. Sometimes, when she spoke to him, he would get a look in his eyes that somehow reminded her of her father, and it was almost like getting to talk to him again.

"Perhaps that is how you can help me, we need someone to see to the stables and care for any of the injured horses and attend their other needs. I know it's very selfish of me, but I would like you out of harm's way now that I know you're alive."

Raven's vision blurred as her eyes suddenly filled with tears, though not before she caught a glimpse of the telltale hint of red in her friend's green eyes. Without thinking, she suddenly left her seat, rounded the desk that separated them, and hugged Rhiannon tightly. Her brain didn't seem to be functioning properly, and for a while she couldn't seem to find the words.

"I'm glad you're safe, too," she finally said, so softly it was almost a whisper. "When you didn't answer the phone, I was so afraid... I don't know what I'd do without you and Jeremy." Blinking away her tears, Raven finally released her friend and straightened up. With a rather shaky smile, she then said, "I think I'm going to see if I can't get something to eat before heading out to the stables. Can I have anything sent up for you?"

__________________________________________________________


Jace looked around his home, it was in pieces and he could still smell the blood and flesh of his fallen brothers and sisters as well as the beasts that they had sent to hell. He didn’t allow the sadness to cross his face that he was feeling in his heart, he had been to connected, to much of a slave to his emotions as of late but he couldn’t allow them to rule him so easily any longer. ”Thank you. Do you have a chapel here?” Jace narrowed his eyes at the insolent man and then looked away, distain still flickering in his eyes. Civies he thought to himself as he stopped in front of the long staircase that upstairs to where Rhiannon had been hiding herself away for the last few hours trying to sort out things, both emotionally and strategically he was sure.

”You’ll find no chapel here. We have no need for prayers and I believe that God has most certainly forsaken our kind.” He words fell from his lips, it was more then he had wished to say but he was finding it difficult to hold his tongue at the moment. He stilled his urge to rip Simon’s throat out, his jaw locking and his eyes letting go of the hostility that they had been holding as he turned to the visitor. ”Rhiannon can be found upstairs…watch you step.” With that he turned away once more and began climbing the stairs which had suffered some heavy damage, luckily for vampires their step was light and Jace barely made a sound as he ascended the long staircase.

As he climbed the memory of the night when the lycans attacked flashed vibrantly as if he was seeing it once more. He had descended the stairs after hearing a horrific scream, Rhiannon announcement that Amelia and her guard had been slaughtered, and then the howl echoing across the grounds. He had dashed up the stairs to arm himself, Isabel had sought him out and refused to stay where she could be safe, insisting to go with him to the Death Dealer compound. He reached the landing and the memory shifted to dealing with the aftermath of the battle, he blinked as the vision of Isabel walked towards him and she vanished. They were approaching the office and the closer he got he could hear two female voices inside. One belonged to Amelia’s heir, the other was familiar but it couldn’t be Raven she had been Amelia in Budapest when the attack had happened. “Wait here.“ he said to Simon without even looking at him as he walked forward and rapt sharply on the thick wooden door twice, his mind racing although it didn’t show in his expression or body language.

__________________________________________________________


”You’ll find no chapel here. We have no need for prayers and I believe that God has most certainly forsaken our kind.”

"I rather think the opposite is true, dear boy," Simon observed. "After all sanguis vitam est, sanguis est vim, vitae animum nobis est...its all rather biblical, don't you think?"

The Death Dealer merely glowered at him. ”Rhiannon can be found upstairs…watch you step.”

As they climbed the steps, Simon took stock of the carnage about him. It must, he thought, have been a terrible struggle. The air was still heavy with the tang of blood and viscera, both vampiric and lycan, the litter of combat strewn about the place. Simply awful, but at least he was here to take stock of the situation.

“Wait here.“ The Death Dealer commanded as the reached an ornate door. It seemed to be only feature of the mansion that had escaped damage, and a futher glance about the place convinced Simon that not even the team from "Changing Rooms" could do much with this place. Still, given time, status quo always returned.

He would likely be kept waiting again. It was all form, he knew, and form at times could be trying, but that was life.

__________________________________________________________


Rhiannon could not recall the last time someone had hugged her, especially so genuinely. Returning Raven's affectionate embrace she let herself fall into the smaller woman. It eased some of the tension in her body and calmed her greatly.

"I'm glad you're safe, too. When you didn't answer the phone, I was so afraid... I don't know what I'd do without you and Jeremy."

A slight chuckle escaped Rhiannon's mouth as her friend let her go. She nodded in agreement as once again she found herself wiping her eyes on the back of her hands. Raven and Jeremy were in many ways a problem for her, she had to protect them like they were her children but they were vampires. They had both once known mortality, something she had never known. They had seen sunrises and sunsets, known what it was like to have loving affectionate parents. At times Rhiannon found herself feeling stunted. As if love and affection were a foreign language to her.

"I think I'm going to see if I can't get something to eat before heading out to the stables. Can I have anything sent up for you?"

Rhiannon was pulled from her thoughts. "No, Jeremy will return presently with something. You should-"

The sharp knock on the door caused her to stop mid-sentence and look towards it. This was not Jeremy's knock and he would have let himself in knowing he was welcome already. Rising formally she nodded towards Raven in dismisal. "Go on, get out of here before you get trapped and can't look for Aslan. Come see me in the morning and let me know what has become of the stables."

Moving to the doors she opened both and pulled them wide, finding Jace and a stranger waiting outside. Turning back to Raven she gestured for the young vampire to be on her way, but there was a kindness in her eyes that said she wished this moment between friends didn't have to end so soon. When Raven had passed by she looked to Jace and his companion.

"Come in, what's wrong now." Sighing she turned her backs on the pair and moved back to her desk. Flopping down in her chair she wished Jeremy would hurry up, she was finally starting to feel truly famished.

__________________________________________________________


The doors before him opened, the look upon Rhiannon’s face was one of frustration as she looked at him and the man standing behind him. He gave her a curt nod and then saw past her when she turned her head, Raven was standing by the desk and for the first time that evening Jace allowed his face to display emotion. His stony expression softened and his eyes widened at the sight of the small, youthful vampire. He was more then happy to see that she was alive and very well by the looks of it, but saw there was a sadness in her eyes that made his mind race with what she had been through.

He wiped his face of emotion after Raven had exited the office and Rhiannon turned her gaze back upon him and their visitor. "Come in, what's wrong now." She turned her back on him as she went to her desk and sat down, the irritation in his voice spoke volumes about how exhausted and tense she was. He could understand, she had lost so much in such a short time and he was positive that she hadn’t been able to deal with it completely yet because of her duties and putting the coven first.

”I’m sorry to have disturbed you Rhiannon.” He said as he looked over his shoulder at Simon before stepping into the office and walking over to the desk. Like a good solider he didn’t sit down but stood with his hands at his sides and feet slightly apart, a military stance if you will which was a sign of respect that Amelia had commanded from her Death Dealers. ”His name is Simon. He claims that Amelia sent for him.” Short, sweet, and to the point. He did not care if Simon was insulted with his introduction, he already didn’t like him from the way Simon addressed him and how important he thought of himself.

[Rhiannon]

_______________________________

Grateful for the chance to escape, yet sorry to be taking leave of her friend so soon after her arrival, Raven gave a quick half bow before making her way out the door, offering Jace a small smile as she passed. Turning a curious gaze to the stranger in the hall behind him, Raven’s first thought was that he looked arrogant. She wasn’t sure she liked him. That’s not fair, Rae, she silently scolded herself. You’re just worried about Rhi and Aslan, not to mention tired... and hungry. Still, he did look rather arrogant. With a dismissive shrug, she headed downstairs. It had been over 48 hours since she’d last eaten, and she was determined to get something from the kitchen before going out to the stables.

Raven frowned. She was worried about Rhiannon. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to wear herself out - and that wouldn’t help anyone. She had just decided that she would make sure Rhiannon got some sleep after reporting to her in the morning, even if she had to stand guard outside her bedroom door herself, when she walked into the kitchen and, not paying attention to where she was going, nearly walked into Jeremy.

“Jer, I’m worried about Rhiannon,” Raven said, not even seeming to realize that she’d just called him “Jer” - or that she’d very nearly walked into him, for that matter. Her deep blue eyes reflected just how very worried she was.


--------------------

Rhiannon's eyes followed Raven for a brief lapse, relieved even more than before that she seemed completely unharmed. Part of her hated that, wanting her to be as dead as her mother, it would have been justice in a sense. But then Rhiannon wouldn't have likely put her own life in front of her mother's. Shaking the thought off she looked to Jace, taking his words in and mulling them over for a moment before looking to the stranger.

"I find it convenient that she's dead and now you're here," the heir bristled a little at the thought her mother had called in a stranger. What purpose had this been done for? Alas her curiosity outweighed her suspicions that this man was an enemy. "Who are you Simon and what would my mother have wanted with you?"

Raising a dark eyebrow she relaxed into the chair far more casually than she probably should have. This was just her way, giving off the aura that she was in no way threatened when she likely should have been. The one thing that really scared her was not in this room so there was nothing to get bent out of shape over.


--------------------

The humble servant in Jeremy went quietly about preparing something for the ladies upstairs. This was by no means his duty, more of a caring gesture towards those who wee most important in his life. He was not the greatest cook but damned if he couldn't prepare a very nice bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich. The trouble was Jeremy could not recall whether Raven cared for the tomatoes or not. Deciding at last she was just lucky to be alive and back home, he finished the sandwiches and placed each on one of the china plates usualy used for formal dinners. It had been a while since Amelia had commanded such an affair and the nice things went to waste in the china hutch.

Bearing a tray complete with the sandwiches, a bit of sliced fruit and traditional European table water he nearly ran headlong into Raven as she came through the door. Reeling back he moved out of her way, wincing only slightly at what she had called him. For some reason Jeremy had never cared for the shortening of his name. Like the patient man he had become he ignored it though and paused as her wrds sunk in.

If anyone knew the heiress well it was most likely her personal servant and devoted pet. Not that she had ever made him either, both he did by his own choice and loyalty to the beautiful woman who protected him. So far he had seen nothing in her that made him worry too heavily. But had she said something once he was out of the room to indicate otherwise?

Setting the tray down on the counter he held out one of the plates. The sandwich on it was perfectly cut into neat triangles and the slices of crisp pear were perfectly arranged more like a garnish than intended edibles. "Here," he said gently offering his 'child' the food to her.

"Did she say something when I left?" Jeremy asked, his concern masked as he gave Raven the plate.


--------------------

Gladly accepting the plate of food, Raven offered Jeremy a smile of thanks before popping one of the pear slices into her mouth. She really was famished, and was vaguely aware of the fact that she probably shouldn't have started eating the pear yet - it was one of her favorite fruits, and once she started she usually couldn't stop. It would make talking somewhat difficult. By the time Jeremy had finished asking if Rhiannon had said anything after he left, Raven had already devoured about three slices and quickly finished her fourth.

"No Jeremy, we were silently waiting for you to come back before conversing," she replied sarcastically, her eyes momentarily dancing with laughter. Then she sobered, and the concern returned to her eyes. "It's not anything she said, but... She needs time to grieve for her mother and get used to the idea of taking her place, and there is none. She needs to rest, and I'm afraid she's going to wear herself out. And now this stranger shows up. The last thing she needs is something else to worry about."

And I don't know how to help her, Raven added to herself silently, frowning again - something she rarely ever did. She hated that she couldn't make everything right again, or even really help. In her concern for Rhiannon and frustration over her apparent uselessness, she forgot that Jeremy didn't know about the stranger. She had even forgotten about her pear.


--------------------

Glad to see Raven start in on her food, Jeremy took the bottle of table water and poured it into one of the glasses. He was glad there was still that touch of teasing playfulness in Raven, especially after she'd been up with Rhiannon. He'd taken too long making their sandwiches and getting everything just-so but he had expected the two women to converse for quite a while. Frowning a little he placed the water on the counter beside Raven's plate.

"It's not anything she said, but... She needs time to grieve for her mother and get used to the idea of taking her place, and there is none. She needs to rest, and I'm afraid she's going to wear herself out. And now this stranger shows up. The last thing she needs is something else to worry about."

Jeremy moved to find another glass as she continued and quickly rejoined her. He had to agree with Raven about Rhiannon's condition. She was tired and under such an immense pressure. All eyes looked to her waiting for her to make a plan of action and the truth was that without knowing what Marcus and Viktor expected of her, her hands were tied. He only hoped they would contact her soon. Each moment that ticked by only added the the pressure and eventually Rhiannon was going to burst. What happened then was anyone's guess.

As Raven's words sunk in Jeremy's frown deepened. Stranger? His hazel eyes darted from the water he was pouring for himself back to the young appearing woman as she nibbled at her snack. "Stranger? What stranger?" He asked, a hint of his worry leaking into his voice. Setting the emerald colored bottle down he brought the glass of bubbly water to his eyes. No one had mentioned any stranger to him, but he knew without a doubt that no one would let a stranger pass into their midst without them being safe. Not after what had happened to Amelia. Silently sipping at the cool water he felt it wash a lump out of his throat, not realizing his concern had brought it there.


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[Rhiannon]

___________________________________

Remembering her pear, Raven returned to eating it, and absently decided that she would have to take another with her to eat on the way to the stables, it just tasted so good. She would have to keep an eye on her eating habits - Raven knew she had a tendency to eat when worried or stressed, as she was now. Of course, she was actually hungry now. Watching a frowning Jeremy pour himself a glass of water, she jumped up to sit on the counter next to her food - no small feat for one her size, but she'd long since mastered the art of it - and took a sip of her own water.

"Stranger? What stranger?" Jeremy asked.

Raven felt a pang of guilt at the hint of worry in Jeremy's voice. Oh, she was just doing a marvelous job these days, failing to protect Rhiannon's mother or get the information her friend so badly needed, and now making Jeremy worried. So much for protecting her friends. Of course Jeremy didn't know about the stranger - he'd hardly been there when he arrived. She was frowning again, but this time at herself. Then she shook her head from one side to the other as if to clear it of these negative thoughts and returned her attention to Jeremy.

"Jace brought him up to see Rhiannon," Raven explained. "That's why I came down here. I've never seen the guy before, and I don't see why he'd come here now of all times. He looks arrogant." She had not meant to say the latter - it had just popped out. The young vampiress looked surprised at herself and a pale hand covered her lips, as if too late to keep the words from leaving them.


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The nervous wrinkle in Jeremy's orehead smoothed away. An arrogant stranger was likely someone from Europe sent to represent one of the smaller Houses. Perhaps this stranger had come with information on behalf of the Elders. Whatever he was here for, he hoped it was good news for Rhiannon. The last thing she needed was more bad news. Whatever it was he knew that she would handle it well. It might have been ignorant on his part but Jeremy had always viewed Rhiannon as indestructable in some strange way.

Slippig from his own thoughts he caught Raven's guilty look and couldn't help but grin, his fangs flashing with the movement. Noticing she hadn't touched her sandwich yet he gave her a quizzical look. "We've got a few more pears, but would you rather hit the good stuff?" He asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows nodding towards the gigantic restaurant style refridgration unit where the Coven's private stock of cloned human blood was stored. They all needed it to survive but could go a few days between feeding on it if they had to. Of course human food was no longer needed as before. It was more or less for the pleasure of enjoying their heightened senses of taste and smell.

It was these desires and needs that had come into great use when Jeremy opened Legends. He himself had set about the concocting of a few cocktails not available to the public that included some less than legal substances in addition to some of the cloned blood. The Coven put up with it because the night club gave them a place to party and play outside their home and even brought in a little money for them.


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Jeremy grinned, and Raven found that she couldn't help but grin back. It was relieving to know that he wasn't overly worried, and some of her own concern was alleviated. She was still worried about her friend, of course - it would have been out of character for her not to be - but it no longer weighed so heavily on her mind, and she visibly relaxed.

"We've got a few more pears, but would you rather hit the good stuff?" he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Raven took a bite of her sandwich and feigned contemplation as she chewed. Swallowing, she finally said, "Maybe just a glass of bloodwine to go with my yummy sandwich." She didn't see anything wrong with the combination, though she knew many would not agree with her. "Though I think I'll take a pear with me when I head out to the stables. Rhiannon asked me to take care of the horses. You're welcome to help if you have time, you know. When's the last time you even said hello to Aslan? I hope you haven't hurt his feelings. And I will most certainly expect your help in making sure Rhiannon gets some sleep in the morning." There was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she said the latter that was more akin to a five year old Raven than the vampiress she was now.


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In his typical servant-like fashion, Jeremy snapped his fingers once and went to one of the cupboards. He opened the door, revealing that it was in fact a wine refridgeration unit. Because of the blood content the wine had to be twice bottled and was specially brewed by a vampire vinter in Europe. Removing a bottle of the favored consumable he passed a glance back at Raven. Most didn't know it but Jeremy wasn't particularly fond of animals. They reminded him of his poor farmer's son life before he became a vampire... but then few even knew about that life at all. Jeremy was not very forthcoming with his past.

Finding a glass and a corkscrew he removed the cork and poored the burgandy fluid into the crystal flute. He chuckled at Raven's comment about making Rhiannon sleep. If Jeremy were speaking to any of the other vampiresses aside from Raven he might have had a very bawdry comment to make in response to that. One that would have been brushed off as his usual cocky flirting but probably held a great weight of his secet desires behind it.

"Once this stranger you mentioned is gone I might just start fielding her visitors away." He sighed then, holding out the glass to Raven. Rhiannon was not known for taking particularly good care of herself and he was sure she was going to run herself into the ground soon. She wouldn't die of exhaustion, couldn't get sick from it, but she sure as hell could collapse from it and be forced to sleep it off if she pushed her body too far. As much as the immortals liked to think they were invincible the truth was that they were far from it. Like their human cousins they could be knocked out, hurt and killed. "As much as she rebels against-" he stopped and verbally back-pedalled. "As much as she rebelled against Amelia, this would be a fine time to have her mother step in and throw her weight around. I think that's about the only person who could make her sleep now. Let's just hope some good news comes soon so she doesn't wear herself out."


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At the sound of Jeremy's sigh a flicker of concern could be seen in Raven's eyes. She instinctively wanted to make sure her friends were happy, and certainly not worried, but she was at a loss as to what to do. Five year old Raven would have known exactly how to cheer everybody up, but she'd worked for so long to bury that side of herself that the answer failed her - which was ironic, considering how little success she'd had in suppressing her true nature until now. Gratefully accepting the glass of bloodwine, she took a big sip. Though she'd never particularly cared for alcohol, as a mortal or as a vampire, she had to admit that she rather liked bloodwine. Absently taking another bite of her sandwich, she washed it down with more of her drink. Luckily, the young vampiress was distracted enough by her frustration over not being able to cheer up her friends that she missed Jeremy's initial error in referring to Amelia in the present-tense.

"As much as she rebelled against Amelia, this would be a fine time to have her mother step in and throw her weight around. I think that's about the only person who could make her sleep now. Let's just hope some good news comes soon so she doesn't wear herself out."

Now Raven's deep blue eyes were dancing with mischief and a hint of laughter. Grinning, she said, mostly joking, "What, you don't think we could take her? Couldn't sneak up on her in her office, tackle her, drag her to her room, tie her to her bed, and lock her in? Maybe guard the locked door, just to be safe?" It was so outrageous, there was no way she could possibly be suggesting it - though to be honest, she did consider it for a very brief moment, her grin broadening at the thought. Besides, she knew she was no match for Rhiannon, even with Jeremy's help. But she wasn't finished yet. "Or I could always pretend to be my mother - I can't imagine anyone ever openly defying her. Of course, I may need a mirror to practice her "look" - she could get a mountain to move for her if she wanted it to, with that look. It was terrifying, having her turn it upon you. Of course, I got it a lot more often than Sylvia ever did. But if I can get that look down, we could have Rhiannon running for her room to go to sleep. What do you think?" There wasn't just a hint of laughter in her eyes now; they were positively filled with it, and she couldn't seem to stop grinning.


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As hard as he was trying to retain his serious composure considering the recent events, Jeremy found it truly distracting that Raven was being silly. The corner of his mouth kept curling up as she watched her expressions and listened to her speak. She was still truly innocent. No matter how much she had trained in killing. No matter how much blood might be on her hands she would forever retain some of that naivety that had first caught his attention when he turned her. Thinking back to that he winced and hid it with a cough. In many ways he felt like he had done the right thing, given her a life free from the cage she was being put in. While still another part of him felt as if he had taken a rainbow and tried to shove it in a black bottle. Yes, he'd never admitted it to anyone but there was a selfish part of him that had done it to keep her close. To remind him what it was like to have innocence and purity, laughter and light. All the things he no longer had in the vampire world.

He might have passionate feelings for his patron, but she was just another dark flower in the garden of wilteed and undying flowers. She was beautiful like a flame. She drew the moths in around her to dance around her flame and when they touched it they died. There was more than one reason Jeremy dared not reveal his feelings to anyone. How could you both love and fear someone?

He was still smiling as this flitted through his mind, but even Raven's sweet smile couldn't touch the darkest places in his soul. "Somehow I think that would only suceed in royally pissing her off," he chuckled and paused, thinking for a moment. "What would persuade you to sleep if you were in her shoes?"

Being male Jeremy could think of a few things that would certainly persuade him to bed and eventually to sleep. But he was pretty sure those things were far from the top of Rhiannon's list of relaxing and persuasive things. Offering a massage and plenty of bloodwine sounded a little too much like what he'd really like to do with her to be taken in the right context and he damn sure didn't want to offend Rhiannon.


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Raven was satisfied with her momentary triumph when Jeremy not only smiled, but chuckled. Somewhere within her, a five year old Raven was dancing at her success. But now she turned her full attention to his question, absently staring at the bloodwine in her glass without actually seeing it as she gave her answer some serious thought. It was a difficult question, both because it was hard to imagine what it would be like to be in Rhiannon's shoes, and because it meant being completely honest with herself. Raven knew she had a rebellious streak. Her mother had seen the worst of it, but even her closest friends had come up against it over the years. The question was, would it make an appearance in a situation such as this? Frowning with concentration, she began to lightly kick the side of the counter upon which she was seated with her right foot without realizing it. She simply didn't know. But she did know that if approached in the right way, her rebellious streak might be avoided.

"I suppose, if my closest friends came and explained that they were worried about me, and offered to take care of things for a few hours, I might agree to go to sleep for a little while," Raven finally said, looking thoughtful. "But it's hard to say for sure. If they approached me in the wrong way, I'd end up rebelling against them. And even if I was persuaded, it wouldn't make it easy to get to sleep. A bubble bath and a good book might help, and I guess I could take something to help me sleep... But then I'd be worried that I wouldn't wake up if something happened and I was needed. So just the bubble bath and the book. Oh, and some relaxing music, like that on my Zen CD." The young vampiress paused. She had this nagging feeling that she was forgetting something. Something important. But what...? Then it hit her, and though there was no change in her tone of voice, there was something in her eyes that suggested she now spoke from personal experience. "One of my friends would have to promise to sit up with me in case I had a nightmare about my... parent's death. And to wake me up before it got too bad."

Raven did speak from experience. Though it was hardly common knowledge, she had been having nightmares about her father's death for most of her life, and though she had learned to deal with them by now, in the earlier years her sister had had to promise to do exactly that. And she had.


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[end]