Nos Faux Ratu Ch. 05

"And you're --" April paused and looked around conspiratorially, " -- like him," she added glancing slyly over at Nigel, who was smiling. "A covert operative?! Why didn't you say anything?"

"That would rather defeat the purpose of being covert, don't you think?" Nessa asked, her voice warm and honey-filled.

April blushed. "I suppose. How did you find out? Jenna didn't just tell you. She's a woman of secrets," April said knowingly.

'You have no idea,' Nessa thought. "I know some people in high places, and found out about the program. I'm actually currently an investor in a specific part of the program," she added, glancing at Jenna. She touched the Nightwalker's leg under the table, and was a bit surprised when she got no reaction.

"I'm SO sorry that I tried to set you up," the school teacher said. "If I had known you were gay, I know a really nice lady who works for the sheriff's department who --" She stopped and looked at Nessa. "Never mind. You obviously have no problems getting your own dates. I'm sorry, but has anyone ever told you that you're stunning?" she asked of the vampire.

"I like her," Nessa said, still a bit concerned about Jenna but unwilling to not enjoy herself. "I've always heard that teaching is like warfare without all the rules. I'm sure you have some stories --"

And that was all it took. April rolled her eyes, gave a flip of the hand, and she was off to the races. From the sound of it, the school was in fact a war zone, and it was constant battle between the teachers, the administration and the students for the high ground.

Jenna glanced up from time to time, breaking her intense staring contest with her dinner to see that Nessa and Nigel were sizing each other up across the table. In that moment, Jenna wished that Nessa had made first contact with Nigel instead. He was better at this. As the Empress, she had been coldly efficient. Socializing was not her thing.

"-- and so I said, you leave that boy alone," April was saying, breaking Jenna from her reverie. "Sweet mother of all that's holy, that William Monroe is going to be the death of me."

Nessa noticed an instant alertness to Jenna's eyes that was not there before. The melancholy that had plagued her throughout the evening had receded, and her attention was fully on April.

"How so?" Jenna asked.

"Oh, he's just drawn to trouble. None of its really his fault, at least not in a bad way," April explained. "He just seems to find trouble. He's an outrageous flirt, but he doesn't push it. He doesn't like bullies and he lets them know he won't be pushed around, which of course just infuriates them. He's always in the principal's office --"

Jenna tuned out for a second. Many of these transgressions had been off the record, or she would have known about them. She would have to be more vigilant. Then she felt a poking sensation in her shoulder.

"Did you want dessert?" Nessa whispered into her ear.

"No, I'm not really hungry."

"So I gathered," the vampire replied, looking at the mostly full plate. "The chef is going to think you don't like his cooking. The last time that happened, I had to talk him out of jumping off the roof. He's very sensitive."

"I'm sure he hated being consoled," Jenna replied, more bitterly than she had intended. She felt Nessa withdraw a bit, a clear understanding of what Jenna had meant in her mind. She could not explain her sullenness even to herself, so she decided to give Nessa and Nigel a chance to talk. She accidentally-on-purpose rubbed her hand across her face, smearing her makeup just a bit. "Damn it, I did it again. April, I'm horrible at this," she said, pointing to the mess she had made. "Could you help me?"

From the look on April's face, one might have thought that she had just been asked to be the maid of honor at the wedding. Jenna, the cool and beautiful woman she had admired since she had first met her had just asked for her help. With makeup. It was something she could do.

"Let's go. Where's the powder room?"

"Just to the left of the kitchen," Nessa told her. After a moment, she was alone with Nigel. "So, Death is it?"

"I prefer Nigel in more mundane settings. Not to disparage this fine restaurant of course," he said, sipping his wine. "I am curious to hear how you managed to make such a remarkable turnaround in our mutual acquaintance."

Nessa smiled. "There are parts of that story that only she gets to tell."

"I wouldn't even recognize her from a week ago."

"And I think we may both be surprised a week from now. But shall we dispense with the conversational games? She won't be able to distract your date forever. So, can I count on your trust now?"

Nigel cocked his head. "Don't you think you should make your case first?"

Nessa just laughed. "Nigel my dear, you've already made up your mind."

"How so?"

"We could have had a conversation over the phone. You never would have met me if there wasn't something you simply wanted to see. And I doubt you would have introduced me to your girlfriend if you saw me as a threat."

"You're no threat to her," Nigel said. "That was never a question. Even if you had to try and kill me, you wouldn't go after her. The question was never whether or not you were a good person . . . vampire person. But there are a lot of good people who are not necessarily the solution to this problem."

Nessa folded her hands in front of her. "I was the only one of the major players who wanted this to end peacefully. I still do. I just no longer think that is an option."

"Why not?"

"Because my opponents are an egomaniacal paramilitary guy with delusions of beating back the world's corporations and an egomaniacal werewolf lord who wants me dead, my territory his, and Jenna to treat as his sex slave just to reassert his dominance."

"She neglected to mention that part," Death said calmly.

"Garon Pegg wants revenge against me and Jenna . . . well, she didn't exactly endear herself to him when she stabbed him with a fork. You know, dining at this place has gotten a lot more interesting as of late." Nessa glanced towards the restroom. "If we could replace the leaderships of the Nightwalkers and guarantee silence from those who know, I would still be willing to pursue a peaceful solution."

"Ma'am --"

"Please, don't EVER call me that."

Nigel suppressed smile. "If it makes you feel any better, you don't look a day over --"

"Be very careful how you proceed," she growled.

"Very well. The Fool's mental state and general psychological stability has become seriously compromised, but going directly against a commanding officer is not something done lightly. Several of us question the Fool's sanity, but rebellion is another thing entirely."

"Jenna did."

"Jenna was never really one of us," Nigel replied sadly. "She was always apart from the rest of the unit. Others saw it as her being aloof."

"And you?"

"I saw her as being lonely. Now I know why. Back to the matter at hand, you have another problem you have not yet faced. The Nightwalker program has been a success thus far, meaning that the government will continue to create more of us. The next will not be under the control of the Fool. You will have the same problem of drawing attention to your kind, without having the benefit of an inside source. You could kill all the Nightwalkers here, maybe even make it look like an accident, but more of us will come. The only thing you will have done is expose yourself to the United States Government which, despite recent historical trends, is still a very dangerous adversary."

Nessa leaned back in her chair, her eyes looking past Nigel and into the world beyond. "You are quite correct. We cannot simply kill all of you, nor will a temporary change in command help. We need . . . we need for your employers to think that the project is a failure."

Nigel nodded thoughtfully. "That might work, but we have been in operation for some time."

"Bioengineering has aftereffects that could take years to manifest," Nessa pointed out. "It is well within the realm of possibility that something could happen. But convincing your higher-ups of a serious defect without actually harming your people, now that will be the trick."

Death was not easily impressed, but Nessa had been right earlier. He had already decided to trust her, and now he decided that he liked her. She was still looking for the least damaging solution, something that the Fool was not even considering.

"I'll try to delay the Fool's plans as much as I can, but I can't promise anything."

Nessa nodded, then something occurred to her. "I'll check with my spell-casters. They might be able to come up with a temporary curse that we could pass off as an effect of bio-tampering."

"Non-lethal?"

"Of course. It will probably not be pleasant, and in some cases might seem lethal, but it is better than the alternative."

"I think we have the beginnings of a plan," Nigel said, raising his glass and toasting with his hostess.

"So what have you two been up to?" April asked as she led Jenna and her "repaired" face back to the table.

"Just dull business my darling," Nigel said.

April smiled that school-teacher smile of hers. "See? This is why I adore Nigel. He's a gentlemen, even when he's completely full of --"

"Tisk," Nigel cut her off. "What would your children say if they heard you using such language?"

"Like they haven't used worse," April mumbled. She reached out and squeezed Nigel's hand.

'Is that what I want?' Jenna thought, watching her friend interact with his fairly normal (though nice) girlfriend. 'One person for me? Romance? Augh! Why is my mind so screwed up?'

Dinner wrapped up quickly, with April doing most of the talking. Nessa found it funny that the school teacher was the center of attention, surrounded by two covert assassins and a vampire. What was less funny was the funk that Jenna had slid into. She was trying hard to look interested in April, who she did actually like, but the woman's mind was a thousand miles away.

When they had said their goodbyes, an understanding now in place between Nessa and Nigel, the vampire walking the still-silent Jenna back to the hover.

"Okay, now what's with you?" Nessa snapped.

Jenna tensed up. "Why does something have to be 'with' me? Some people appreciate silence."

"Monks are a livelier bunch than you were tonight. The only time you weren't in a coma was when she mentioned your son. And don't bother denying it was him. There's no other teenager on Earth who would capture your attention like that."

"Yeah, so?"

"So get your head back in the game --"

"How can I get my head back in the game with you messing with my mind all the time?" Jenna shouted. Avery and Anabella took that as their cue and found elsewheres to be. This was a bit of a trick, since the hover limo was not that long.

"I'm not . . . okay, how am I --"

Jenna actually put a hand up, indicating a desire for Nessa to stop. She took several deep breaths, then spoke. "I'm not trying to be mean. I asked you a question earlier, you answered it honestly. I just don't know what to do with that answer."

"I'm a bit confused," Nessa said, but she was calming down.

"I don't know what I want. With anything. You told me what our relationship is, and I appreciate that, but what do I want in a relationship? Do I want what Nigel and April have? That whole 'I only have eyes for you' thing, or do I want what you have with your . . . well, more decadent nature?"

"You don't have to answer that right away," Nessa reminded her.

"But I need to start asking it," Jenna replied. "And that's hard with you around. I appreciate everything you've done, but I can't always rely on you to make my nightmares go away. I've been leaning on you like a crutch to point me in the right direction for everything, but I need to start doing that on my own."

"So . . . what?"

"I'm going home tonight. My home. Yeah, I know you don't like it, but it's just as much a part of my history as anything else, and I need to prove to myself it doesn't control me. Like you say, it only has the power I give it. I'll still be back in the evening to get the troops ready."

Avery raised his hand. "Our people have noticed Garon's men staking out a particular location. It's one of the places you thought that the Nightwalkers might go if the Fool was being sneaky."

Jenna's business face came back on. "If Garon found it, then that probably means that the Fool wanted it. He's setting a trap."

"To make matters worse, we have to save Garon from walking into it," Nessa added. She recited her conversation with Death earlier. "So if the Nightwalkers die, we're back to square one when your old bosses create new ones and, as much as I hate Garon, I won't allow the werewolves to be wiped out like that. Most of them are just following their alpha."

"You really think that magic will be able to help?"

"I do, but I don't have anyone with enough moxy in the area to pull it off. I may need to call in a favor from a guy in Louisiana --"

"Yer not serious!" Anabella said, making her presence known. "Yer gonna call up Ghede?"

"Who's Ghede?" Jenna asked.

"He's a voodoo priest and a very nice man," Nessa said, glaring at her banshee friend. "Just because he creeps YOU out --"

"The guy gives off so many vibes he makes my skin crawl," Anabella said, her whole body shuddering.

"He also is our best bet for pulling off the spell we need, and he owes me. Heck, he'd probably come anyway just to piss off Garon."

"That fuzzy bastard hasn't made a lot of friends, has he?" the banshee agreed.

"So why don't you like him?" Jenna asked.

"Ask her," Anabella grumbled. "She's got a theory."

Nessa patted her friends arm. "Banshees are magical beings but unlike others, they are generally bound to the area of the British Isles. There is no real voodoo presence there, so Banshee's magic doesn't recognize him."

"If banshees are native to the islands, then --"

"She's got a rock of our homeland stored in a secure place," Anabella interrupted. "Lets me stay within a few hundred miles of wherever it is."

"That's nice," Jenna said. She had nothing else to say. They returned to the club and Jenna went up to retrieve her normal clothes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Nessa asked as Jenna prepared to make her escape by the window.

"I'm not sure of anything," Jenna replied. "Which is why I need to do this."

"I'm not used to having an empty bed," Nessa said.

Jenna's face fell. "I know. I don't expect you to." Then the Nightwalker vanished into the darkness, carried by her high-tech gliding wings back to the place that would not let its claws out of her.

Nessa felt an uncomfortable silence settling around her like a cloak. She felt that she had done something wrong or that she should apologize, but she did not know what for. She had done everything that she could for her friend, only to see her still in a state of distress. There was only one way that she really knew for curing bouts of unease such as this. She picked up her communicator.

"Ipos," she said firmly, "Find someone to cover for you and the boys for security tonight, then come up to my chambers. Bring Cresil and Kobal. I need . . . I need some tough love."

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

Elsewhere . . .

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

Jenna approached the church from the front, taking in the oppressive weight of it's stone buttresses and heavy door, and glaring at the stained glass eyes that looked down on her so disapprovingly. It dared her to explain her absence. This place contained the spirits of her family . . . their memories.

"I'll never forget you," she whispered, then entered the max of her personal demon. It had been over a week since she had slept here, but her body knew the routine. She passed through her robust security measures, then prepared to run the glass maze. She actually made it through more quickly than usual. It surprised her how clear her mind was. Had she always been so tense?

Once she had cleared and deactivated the maze, she did something that she did not remember doing since they day she had moved back in. She looked around. And soon she found herself remembering how things used to look . . . how they used to be. She remembered where the alter was, and where the old Christian icon once hung. She remembered the severity of the pews and how she had briefly wondered why anyone would design such an uncomfortable thing to sit on while they tried to make peace with the universe.

And she remembered the trapdoor leading down to the basement and the hidden room where the Messenger had lived out his sick fantasies on Jenna and her family. He had destroyed her in as many ways as a human being could be.

Angrily, she shoved the rolling computer desk away and upended the chair. Underneath was a three foot by three foot tile that would have easily passed unnoticed by anyone except Jenna. She knew what was down there. She lifted the tile up, revealing a jack-knife staircase that descend about twenty feet, at which point she emerged into a room, filled with dust and cobwebs and nightmares.

A flick of switch lit up the chamber. All the furniture was gone, confiscated by the police, but she could have rebuilt it all from memory. The table was there, surrounded by sturdy wooden chairs that more resembled the old electric chairs than dining room furniture. Where there currently was a single bulb had once been a chandelier, giving off an inappropriate air of civility. Around the room had been tables equipped with restrains, and the wall had held racks of torture devices.

But it was the far corner that held her eyes the longest. That was where the bed had been . . . the bed where she had defiled herself over and over to satiate the unholy cravings of a madman. Jenna found herself wanting to scream, or better yet to destroy something. But there was nothing left to destroy.

She headed back upstairs, frustrated by the knowledge that she would never be able to exact her pound of flesh from the man who done this to her. And it sickened her to know that she had, in her own perverse way, found a way to love him. How could she ever forgive herself for that?

She undressed and showered, but the warm water brought her less comfort than she expected. Her shower, while practical, lacked the comfortable decadence of Nessa's. Thinking of Nessa reminded her that her mentor was probably already with her flavor of the night. This time, the thought inspired wistful sorrow rather than the pang of jealousy she had experienced earlier. Nessa was exactly who she claimed to be, and she had done more for Jenna in a week than anyone else had done for her in fifteen years. She actually found herself admiring the zeal with which her friend lived life.

This thought, a more forgiving and understanding one, gave her some comfort as she eased her body into the sleeping pod for a slumber where she would challenge her own dark side, and this time she would do it alone.

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

Back at Nessa's . . .

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

Ipos had a handful of Nessa's hair, her silky red tresses bound up in his fingers as he shoved her face up and down on his enormous red cock. He and his demonic brethren had arrived in Nessa's room to find her naked on the bed, and she had been courteous enough to bind her own hands behind her back with a convenient pair of handcuffs. When Nessa had asked for tough love, she had meant it. She was in the mood for mean and dirty, no questions asked. He had wanted to inquire as the location of Jenna, but he knew better when she was in a mood like this.

"Sweet mouth," he grunted as her lips stretched to accommodate his girth. He plunged into her willing throat several times, then withdrew and handed over control to Kobal.