↪See my full list of one-shots here and my longer pieces below
My art and animation:
↪Masterpost here
↪Mostly blender 3d animations, though I do a bit of drawing too
↪ Don't expect it quite as often as my writing ;)
↪Just interact here to join the taglist!
WIPs / Longer stories
The Unwanted Visitor: (Completed)
Aida's house has been haunted by a spirit for as long as she can remember. Thing is, she's grown used to her Unwanted Visitor (or Vis, as she likes to call him). So when exorcists come after him, she does what any sane person would: protect her brother friend.
↪ Urban fantasy-comedy, very light-hearted
↪A lot of found family and sibling squabbling
↪If you like teens causing chaos, this is for you!
↪Final bit here
A Perfectly Normal Schoolgirl: (Completed)
All Katherine wants is to eat mortal food, bask in the warmth, and be a normal schoolgirl. But when a boy begs her to help him save her parents, she finds herself fighting for her (and his) life once more.
↪Urban fantasy with a side of horror
↪ Basically an inversion of a bunch of tropes
↪My attempt at writing fantasy without mentioning magic by name
↪Full thing here
Convenience Store Vampire: (Completed)
You'd expect vampires to be imposing and terrifying, masters of the night and princes of darkness. But that's not Davie, no siree. He's stuck down by Sunny Mart, working all day to scrape by. The last thing he wants is any trouble. Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what he's getting.
↪Silly urban fantasy shenanigans
↪ What it says on the tin + slice of life
↪Full thing here
A Tale for A Mouse: (Completed)
Who doesn't like to listen to evil old dark lords monologue about their childhood? Take a seat and come hear the story of the Spirit Emperor, as told by the man himself!
↪Cannibalism. Lots of it. World building too :D
↪High fantasy told via monologue
↪I cannot stress how proud I am of this.
↪Full thing here
Fast Food:
An embarrassment to his entire tribe, Hash is lazy and uninterested in anything. So, when he reaches majority, he gets unceremoniously booted out of home. Follow his adventures through Triworld, as he somehow ends up in every single single conflict across the continent.
↪High fantasy with a side of humour
↪Very heavy Lore™ and Worldbuilding™
↪ My excuse to ramble about fictional history
↪Latest bit here :) Also have @/illarian-rambling's rendition of Hash and her OC Elsind!
A Tale of Love, Death, and Maggots (Completed):
Doc's been wandering through hell for a good twenty years, now. He thought he'd seen it all. He thought he'd felt it all. He thought he'd lost it all. But it turns out love just has a way of crawling back into his chest and breaking his heart again.
↪ Tragedy?, fantasy?, horror?, Idk it's a weird little thing
↪I hope you like death because this sure has a lot of it
↪Full thing here, here's a moodboard of it and here is some fanart @/illarian-rambling made!
Lich-Queen (Completed):
Iraela has all but won: the King of Ceredell and his bride are gone, the cities fallen to her army of undead, and the way to the throne cleared for her. But her coronation, and her sanity threaten to fall apart under the weight of duty. Can she hold it together until she truly becomes Lich-Queen?
↪High, dark fantasy with some horror and gore
↪Watch Ira slowly lose her mind in real-time
↪If you like cannibalism, you'll love this
↪Full thing here, and here is fanart the lovely @/vampirelover890 drew?
The Novel™ (Mind of a Mercenary):
Luna, Terror of Garvenoi, mind-mage extraordinaire, has been caught at last. Whilst everyone celebrates, she is given an ultimatum: Be an indentured hunter for the government, or die. But when she signs on with them, she finds that perhaps death might have been a better choice...
↪ Urban Fantasy set in a Non-Earth world
↪Starring a sassy, mean-girl villain protagonist
↪Enjoy several hundred pages of Luna trying and failing to run from her duties
↪Find snippets here (find the others on my masterlist of writing)
Finally, my taglist! If you interacted with this post/already asked me to add you, and you don't see yourself here, please remind me! I may have accidentally missed you :')
Oh pls kill me I felt so silly doing this- Anyways bye guys hope to see y'all around don't judge me for this
They stood, overlooking the funeral pyres that were ready to be lit. Each one a grim reminder of the lives lost in the battle. See, peace doesn't come through talking, it doesn't come through accords, it comes through strength and battle and action.
Oh, men can talk about how they sat down at the table and worked out a contract for peace, but it never works that way. What always came first? Death. Death always came first. Loss.
So, there they were upon those pyres - the warriors who had died to achieve peace. That was the cost. The cost that had to be paid for peace, for security. Blood spilled upon the ground so that others could sleep safe at night. They had known not all would return when they had walked into the battle, yet they had walked in anyway.
What kind of man or woman did that? Brave ones. Those who knew that there was a price for peace and were willing to pay it. That was the kind of man or woman who looked death dead in the eyes and gave it the middle finger.
While Mahala and Bala are at the Cadona Mansion, Vollrath, Baldur, and Elmar have a meeting...
Vollrath’s phone chimed, the insistent ping cutting through the relative quiet of the room. He reluctantly pulled the device from his pocket, his thumb swiping across the screen to reveal the message. A weary sigh escaped his lips, a prelude to the eye-roll that inevitably followed. Typical Balor. At least the infuriating mage was in good spirits, if the breezy tone of the text was anything to go by.
Elmar, ever observant, noticed Vollrath's reaction. His dark eyebrow arched in silent inquiry, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. He’d learned over time to gauge Vollrath’s moods based on the smallest of cues, and the combination of the sigh and the upward gaze spoke volumes. “Dare I ask?” Elmar ventured, his voice carefully neutral, unsure of what fresh absurdity Balor had managed to conjure.
Vollrath’s expression was a mixture of exasperation and disbelief. He shook his head slowly as he recounted the contents of the message. “My brother,” he began, his voice laced with a dry sarcasm, “has inquired if we can… keep,” he paused for emphasis, his fingers making air quotes, “the cute, inquisitive, little imp.” He snorted softly. “Apparently, he ‘likes her’ and finds her ‘fun.’” Vollrath’s head gave another, more vigorous shake as his thumbs flew across the screen, composing a reply. “He further elaborated that he doesn’t think that she will ‘eat much’ or ‘take up much room’ in my mansion.” Despite his internal turmoil, he was treading carefully in his response to Balor. Pragmatism dictated politeness for the time being. They needed Balor’s particular brand of chaotic magic, and more importantly, Balor was the one currently ensuring Mahala’s safety, a fact that Vollrath couldn't afford to jeopardize.
"Isn't that a good thing?" Baldur inquired, his gaze shifting between Elmar and Vollrath, a furrow in his brow suggesting a genuine attempt to grasp the underlying tension. Was he failing to perceive a crucial nuance in their exchange? Or was Vollrath merely succumbing to his often-present irritability?
"Of course, in principle, it is a positive development. I just…" Vollrath paused, his eyelids fluttering shut as he drew a deliberate breath through his nostrils, seeking a moment of composure. "It's Balor, you see. He, too, is a Nachtnebel. Which unfortunately means the ancient prophecy we’ve been dissecting could just as readily apply to him." His jaw tightened, a visible manifestation of the internal struggle he endured to voice this unwelcome possibility. It was a thought he had been actively suppressing ever since Balor's unexpected appearance in the conference room – an arrival made all the more unsettling by Balor's apparent prior knowledge of a highly confidential Council meeting for which he held a seat yet had not been formally informed. The manner in which Balor had simply walked in, exuding an air of effortless belonging, had planted a seed of unease that Vollrath had been desperately trying to ignore.
"For fuck's sake, Vol," Elmar interjected, his tone a low growl laced with exasperation. "Balor is undeniably an ass, a monumental one at that, but even he wouldn't stoop to overtly trying to usurp your position in such a blatant manner. He would have made his move long before now if that were his intention, especially during the numerous instances when you were absent from these chambers, wouldn't he?"
"That's not what he's saying," Baldur stated, his voice calm yet carrying a note of intrigue that immediately snagged Elmar's attention. Elmar’s thick brows furrowed, crinkling the skin above his intense gaze as he turned fully to face Baldur. The air in the room, thick with unspoken tensions from the day's earlier events, seemed to crackle with this new line of thought. "It's always been assumed, hasn't it? Ever since Vollrath took control of the Coven, everyone just automatically accepted that he was the Lion, the prophesied protector." Baldur paused, letting his words sink in, his eyes flicking between Elmar and the silent, brooding figure of Vollrath. "But what if we’ve all been wrong? What if it was Balor all along? He is the elder brother, after all. Doesn’t that carry some weight?"
Vollrath, who had been staring intently at the intricate patterns in the ancient wooden table, finally lifted his gaze as Baldur finished speaking. A slow nod, almost imperceptible at first, confirmed he had been listening. Inside, however, a knot of unease was tightening in his stomach. The implications of their speculation were unsettling, stirring emotions he preferred to keep buried.
Elmar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a shrewd glint in his eyes. "If that were the case," he began, his voice laced with a confident skepticism, "I think we would have seen things go very differently today. Certain… reactions would have been absent." He paused for emphasis, his gaze locking onto Vollrath. "Icebergs don't simply melt without significant heat, Vol. If she truly meant nothing to you, then do you honestly believe that your perpetually frosty exterior would have thawed even a fraction? When have you ever felt a flicker of jealousy over a woman? Just name one single instance. And yet… today… well, today was certainly… interesting." A bit of a cocky smirk played on Elmar's lips as he continued, his confidence growing. He’d known both of the formidable warlock brothers since they were unruly children, witnessing firsthand Vollrath's characteristic indifference towards romantic entanglements. "Now, after all that transpired, you’re trying to tell us she's destined for Balor again? It doesn't quite add up, does it?"
Baldur chuckled softly, adding his own observation to the unfolding theory. "He has a point, big guy," he agreed, nodding towards Elmar. "And not to mention the rather significant fact that if your charming big brother was indeed supposed to be her destined partner, I think Elmar and I, your ever-present shadows, would have noticed at least a spark of something when he met her for the very first time. Instead, his reaction was… well, Balor being Balor. Polite, detached, almost clinical."
Vollrath finally broke his silence, a low, guttural grumble escaping his lips. "This is precisely why I don't do relationships," he stated flatly, the words laced with a deep-seated annoyance. He hated the uncomfortable, introspective nature of this conversation, the way it forced him to acknowledge feelings he’d spent decades suppressing. The entire situation was infuriating.
"I mean, if you genuinely hate it so bad…" Baldur began again, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. Whatever teasing remark he had been about to utter died abruptly on his lips. The look Vollrath was now directing his way was not merely annoyed; it was downright murderous. Baldur swallowed hard. As the Master Warlock of their Coven, Vollrath possessed the terrifying ability to kill with a mere thought, without so much as a touch. Some lines, Baldur wisely concluded, were definitely better left uncrossed. The heavy silence that descended upon the room was more telling than any words could have been.
“I would strongly advise against completing that particular sentence,” Elmar interjected, a suppressed chuckle bubbling beneath his earnest tone. He cast a pointed glance at the other man. “And Vol,” he continued, his voice firm yet laced with concern, “reign it in. He was merely teasing you, a bit roughly perhaps, but ultimately in jest. You absolutely MUST develop a thicker skin if you intend to prevent your… shall we say, volatile emotions from turning her delicate mind into an unsavory pudding at some unforeseen moment.” His dark eyebrows arched dramatically as he inclined his head towards Vollrath, a silent plea in his expressive eyes. “I am acutely aware that there is likely some form of utterly bizarre and potentially sanity-shattering chaos currently unfolding within the labyrinth of your brain,” Elmar elaborated, his gaze unwavering, “but you must, for your own sake and hers, gain some semblance of control over this internal maelstrom. She has made her affections abundantly clear, displaying a singular focus of attention solely upon you. Balor is not going to interfere; you can be certain of that. Even if, hypothetically speaking, he were to somehow embody the legendary Lion itself, he would not dare to act against you in secret or otherwise. You possess a deep understanding of his character and his respect for protocol, a knowledge that runs as deep as our shared history.” Elmar’s attention shifted between his two companions, his lips pressing into a thin line of growing frustration at the palpable tension that hung heavy in the air.
“I know, I know,” Vollrath conceded, expelling a long, ragged breath that seemed to carry a sliver of his inner turmoil with it. He consciously reined in the tempest of his emotions, his gaze fixed on the worn surface of the table before him. An overwhelming confluence of pressing concerns was swirling around him, each demanding immediate attention and making it an agonizing struggle to focus on any single issue for more than a fleeting moment. The woman who had, much to his chagrin, burrowed her way into the deepest recesses of his heart, now found herself under the care – or perhaps, control – of his own brother, a man with whom his relationship was, to put it mildly, strained even on the most auspicious of days. Furthermore, a subtle but persistent unease had taken root within the Coven, a creeping suspicion that someone within their ranks was actively working against them, sowing discord and undermining their efforts. A nagging intuition whispered that the true scope of their predicament was far greater and more complex than any of them currently comprehended. The weight of these uncertainties pressed down on him, leaving him with a profound sense of disquiet and a gnawing lack of security.
Baldur, ever the pragmatist, cleared his throat, drawing the attention back to the matter at hand. “Then let us endeavor to refocus our collective energies on the critical matters that require our immediate consideration,” he stated, his voice calm and measured, a stark contrast to the underlying tension in the room. “This will allow us to conclude our discussion at a reasonably decent hour, affording us the opportunity to obtain some much-needed rest before the inevitable demands of the tomorrow. We must not forget that we have a uniquely powerful novice witch under our charge, for whose magical development and well-being we will all bear a shared responsibility. Additionally, there is the potential task of thoroughly investigating the aforementioned mansion, the necessity of which hinges upon the discoveries made tonight by her and Balor.” Baldur’s keen gaze moved steadily between his two friends, carefully weighing their limited options and considering the most logical starting point for their deliberations. “We have a finite amount of time and a considerable amount of ground to cover. It is imperative that we proceed efficiently and decisively, addressing each issue methodically so that we are adequately prepared to confront whatever challenges lie ahead.”
“Let’s start with who we think the weak link is besides Jonathan,” Elmar began, his gaze sweeping between Vollrath and Baldur. “Obviously, it’s ballsy enough to go into Vollrath’s office and think he can go through his desk, but he had to figure he had some kind of backup to do that. I wouldn’t even do that, and I consider myself his friend. What would possess a lesser warlock to attempt such a brazen act? If it hadn’t been Mahala that interrupted him, but one of us, he had to have formulated some kind of plan on what he’d say or do. I seriously doubt attacking us was his intended course of action. That seems too…unintelligent, even for Jonathan in a panicked state.”
“Agreed,” Vollrath affirmed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Attacking me directly would have been disastrous for him, potentially fatal. So, the question remains: who would he have ready to vouch for him and provide cover? It would have to be someone higher up in the Coven, someone in good standing, capable of concocting a convincing story that would withstand scrutiny. The risk of exposure for both of them would be immense otherwise.” Vollrath paused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to mentally sift through the ranks of the Coven.
“Do you have him assigned to any other projects currently, or perhaps collaborating with anyone on other tasks?” Baldur interjected, his voice laced with the same frustration that was evident on the other two men’s faces. “Maybe that was the excuse he intended to use as a cover – claiming he was looking for something related to that collaborative effort.” Baldur shrugged, the gesture conveying his own lack of certainty regarding Jonathan’s motivations. The sheer audacity of rifling through Vollrath’s personal belongings was still difficult for him to fully comprehend.
“He’s been lending a hand to a couple of individuals with smaller, relatively insignificant projects, nothing that would warrant such behavior,” Vollrath replied, his tone reflecting his own bewilderment. “However, I’m not going to entirely dismiss the possibility that he intended to use that as a flimsy excuse if confronted. The individuals he’s assisting might be completely unaware of his true intentions, which means we’re going to have to be exceedingly careful in how we proceed with our investigation. The last thing we want to do is inadvertently spook anyone who might be actively working to undermine the three of us. We need to gather information discreetly and ascertain the extent of this potential treachery without alerting the conspirators.” Vollrath sighed heavily, the weight of the situation visibly pressing down on him, his shoulders beginning to slump. “And now Balor as well. Someone deliberately tipped him off about Jonathan’s actions. Did they do it naively, perhaps thinking that Balor’s loyalty to Jonathan would somehow shield him from the consequences? I was genuinely shocked at Balor’s response, his unexpected… resignation.”
“I probably was the only one who wasn’t entirely surprised by Balor’s reaction,” Elmar confessed, his statement earning him inquisitive looks from the other two. “I don’t share the same history and inherent distrust that you two have with Balor. Furthermore, I observed his genuine concern and profound unhappiness with Mahala’s recent… instability. Regardless of your past interactions, he was clearly looking out for her well-being, and looking out for those weaker or more vulnerable has always been a defining characteristic of your brother, Vollrath.” Elmar was relieved when Vollrath offered a slow nod of agreement, choosing not to challenge his assessment. They already had a potentially significant internal crisis brewing; the last thing they needed was to exacerbate the situation with unnecessary internal conflict.
“El’s right,” Baldur conceded, his gaze softening slightly as he considered Elmar’s point, “he does have a tendency to shield those he perceives as weaker, and that often includes women. It's a frustratingly chivalrous streak, but it’s undeniably there.” He tapped a finger against his chin, his brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe someone on the Council, perhaps someone who was uncertain about which way the disciplinary vote was leaning, discreetly informed Balor of Jonathan’s duplicity. Balor’s unusual appearance might not have been an attempt to undermine your authority, Vol, but rather a strategic move orchestrated by someone who actually supported your proposed punishment.”
Baldur paused, pacing slowly as he voiced his evolving theory. “Think about it. He didn’t even directly challenge your pronouncements, Vol, his only real demand was to meet Mahala, a request that, according to established Council protocol, you were obligated to grant. It wasn't until after everyone else had departed the chamber that he raised any substantive objections, and even then, his immediate target wasn’t you, but rather Elmar and myself, because of our deliberate omission of information.” He offered a small, almost apologetic shrug, a slight upward curve touching one corner of his mouth.
“So,” Vol began, a thoughtful expression replacing his earlier frustration, “whoever tipped him off might have inadvertently done us a favor. While Jonathan might not have a high-ranking conspirator actively working to destabilize the coven, I think we can all agree that his behavior was undeniably suspicious. He outright lied to the three of us, and it defies logic to think he believed that one, if not all, of us wouldn’t eventually uncover his fabrications. Even if Mahala wasn't…”
Vol’s words trailed off abruptly as the distinct, synchronized chime of their phones sliced through the air. A collective groan seemed to ripple through the room as all three warlocks instinctively reached for their phones. Vol’s eyes scanned the brief message displayed on his screen, his breath hitching in his throat. “Fuck!” The expletive escaped as a low, guttural sigh, his eyelids squeezing shut as his head gave a slow, disbelieving shake. There was simply no scenario in which a summons from his brother, urging him to immediately scry the notoriously private Codona mansion, could be interpreted as anything remotely positive.
“I’m going to venture a guess that we all received the same cryptic missive?” Baldur inquired, his gaze sweeping between Vol and Elmar, his usual sardonic amusement noticeably absent. “How often does anyone request a scrying of a specific location, especially the Codona estate, rather than simply traveling there directly? The very nature of this request sends a shiver of unease down my spine. My instinct screams that we should proceed with extreme caution. I propose we go in armed, and I’m not just talking about our inherent magical abilities. If this turns out to be nothing more than a trivial discovery, then no harm done, but if there’s something more sinister at play, then we’ll be prepared to face it.”
“Agreed,” Elmar affirmed with a decisive nod, his usual calm demeanor edged with a palpable tension. Judging by the grim reactions and worried expressions etched onto the faces of the other two powerful warlocks, none of them harbored even a sliver of optimism regarding the cryptic message. While Elmar possessed a considerable degree of faith in Balor’s capabilities to protect Mahala under normal circumstances, the events of the day had already veered drastically off course, leaving him with a gnawing premonition about just how much further into chaos their carefully ordered world might descend.
Meeri may have run off from the men at the cabin, but NO ONE escapes Melba...
Lorcan was walking back up the trail to the cabin with Melba when she took off and strained hard against the end of her lead. Since it was pitch black, with the moon behind clouds, he had her on a lead so they didn't get separated. Whatever had her upset, she was damn near yanking him off his feet but wasn't barking. What the fuck was up with his dog?
Then he heard it, light footsteps coming towards him fast. Meeri!? That explained Melba not barking, but what the fuck had Meeri running in the dark, alone, and with no light? More importantly, where the fuck were the other three to let her out there alone? He couldn’t hear any heavy boots behind her, so she was most definitely ALONE. It wasn't just the King's soldiers that were a danger, there were wild animals in the woods. Someone was going to hurt later, severely.
Listening closely to the sound of her approaching, and using Melba's reactions as a guide, Lorcan zeroed in on how far Meeri was from him, and where in the road she was. Standing still, he whispered to Melba to be silent and hold position, she sat at his side in obedience. The wait seemed to stretch on forever but he could hear Meeri getting closer. Was she barefoot? Why did it sound like bare feet on the dirt and not the shoes she’d had on earlier? No! She certainly wouldn't have left the cabin without shoes. It still sounded as if she was as she drew closer. What in all the hells had gone on at the cabin?! If the others were still alive, they might wish they weren't when he was done with them.
Finally, she literally ran right into him like he'd planned, so hard in fact that it knocked Lorcan back three steps to get her to a complete stop. His arms banded around her to keep her from fleeing again, and his head dropped so he was talking right next to her ear. She hadn't just been running, she'd been at a full sprint. Not only that but she immediately went to struggling with him for freedom. What the fuck?
“I don't know who you are running from, or why. I don't fucking care either, right now. What I DO care about is your understanding that you are not taking one more goddamn step, in any fucking direction, without me. It is NOT fucking happening, Meeri. I will put you up over my goddamn shoulder and carry you if I have to.” He didn't yell. He wasn't harsh. He was firm. It was all he could do not to shake her with the adrenaline running through his system.
“Lo!” Meeri’s arms instantly went around him, and she clung to him like a child to a parent as she sobbed into his chest. When she had first run into him, he'd felt like a damn tree. But when his arms had gone around her, she'd been more afraid she'd found one of her uncle's soldiers. Of anyone to find her, at the moment, he was the only one she wouldn't argue with. Even if she'd caused problems for the others, Lorcan wouldn't hate her. Would he?
The bustling atmosphere of Lambert Airport swirled around Renata as she sat at a small table near the baggage claim area. The constant stream of travelers, the rumble of rolling suitcases, and the echoing announcements created a backdrop of controlled chaos. Amidst this, Renata remained focused on her task, her eyes scanning the screen of her laptop as she delved deeper into the case of the missing boy.
Trevarius, ever vigilant, scanned the crowd for any sign of Dante. Their mission was clear: to meet Dante and ensure his safe return. The secrecy surrounding their operation was palpable. Dante had explicitly instructed them not to inform Enzo of their rendezvous, a request that both Renata and Trevarius had agreed to without hesitation. Renata couldn't shake the unease she felt about Enzo. His demeanor, his evasive answers, and the subtle inconsistencies in his stories had raised red flags for her. Her intuition screamed that something was amiss, and she trusted her gut implicitly.
The wheels of Dante's plane touched down smoothly, right on schedule. Stepping into the bustling baggage claim area, a wave of relief washed over him as he spotted both Trevarius and Renata waiting. The St. Louis case had been a relentless nightmare, and being pulled away to Prague mid-investigation had only intensified the pressure. Now, back in familiar territory, Dante felt a renewed sense of purpose. He was determined to not only unravel the complexities of the case but also to get to the bottom of Enzo's erratic behavior.
Dante couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply amiss. Enzo, usually the epitome of cool professionalism, had been acting out of character. The cryptic message left on Dante's voicemail, Trevarius’ feeling the need to be cryptic, and knowing Renata was feeling something off as well - it all pointed to a situation far more dire than Enzo just having a bad day. Dante was resolved to confront Trevarius at the earliest opportunity, to delve into the details that had so alarmed their usually unflappable colleague.
As he approached his friends, Dante's mind raced, piecing together fragments of information, searching for clues. The St. Louis case, with its tangled web of death and almost taunting from the killer, had already pushed him to the brink. Now, with the added layer of Enzo's mysterious behavior, Dante knew he was facing his most challenging ordeal yet. But he was not one to back down from a fight. With his friends by his side, he was ready to face whatever lay ahead, determined to uncover the truth and restore order to their carefully organized world.
His initial destination was clear: the captivating blonde at the laptop. He had missed her deeply, and their dinner before his departure had revealed that the feelings he'd held for so long were reciprocated. The thought of Enzo interfering with her ignited a protective fury within him. He was determined to find out if there was any truth to his suspicions.
Making a quick stop at Trevarius, he dropped off his duffle bag and carry-on, describing his two larger cases to his friend. With a sense of urgency, he made his way towards Renata, his footsteps light and cautious, careful not to disturb her concentration as she worked on her laptop. His hazel eyes stayed trained on the subject of his attention, not missing even the slightest twitch of her muscles as she worked.
Renata was engrossed in her online world, navigating through another webpage, when she was suddenly enveloped by a familiar embrace. The scent of cedar and spice, a comforting aroma she knew all too well, filled her senses. Her initial surprise quickly melted into a warm smile as she leaned back into the embrace, her head arching to meet his gaze. "Dante," she chuckled, her voice laced with affection and a hint of playful reproach, "You know, you could give an old girl like me a heart attack sneaking up like that. Or," she paused, her smile widening into a mischievous grin, "is that your plan? Make my heart stop so you have to swoop in and play the hero with your CPR skills?" Her laughter, light and melodious, filled the air, echoing the joy and warmth that Dante's presence always brought her.
He let out a soft, amused chuckle, his voice laced with warmth. "Ren," he began, his tone gentle and knowing, "you know me better than that." His hands moved to gently guide her up and around the chair, pulling her close until their bodies were nearly flush against one another. His arms enveloped her, holding her in a tender embrace. "But I won't deny," he murmured, his voice dropping low, "that I love having my hands on you. I’ve missed you." A playful grin spread across his face as he gazed into her eyes, their rich, whiskey-colored depths captivating him. She was breathtaking, her beauty radiating from within, and the love that mirrored his own in her returning smile sent his heart into a joyful frenzy. The moment was charged with unspoken emotions, their bodies communicating what words could not. The air crackled with a palpable tension, a delicious anticipation of what was to come.
"Is that so, boss? Is that what got you back across the pond so fast? Did you miss me that much? Or did you miss Trev?" Renata couldn't resist teasing him, her voice light and playful. She knew how close he and Trevarius were; they were practically inseparable when it came to solving cases. They were two halves of the same investigative coin, always bouncing ideas off each other and diving headfirst into the depths of any mystery that came their way.
Truthfully, Renata wouldn't deny that she was thrilled to have him back, regardless of the reason. Whether he'd missed her, Trevarius, or both, she wasn't going to complain. At this moment, enveloped in his arms and gazing into his eyes, she was transported back to the night before he left – the night of their first kiss.
That kiss had been etched into her memory, replaying in her mind every night he'd been away. It had been a kiss that had erased every lingering memory of her late husband, a kiss that had ignited a hope within her – a hope for countless more kisses to come. As she looked up at him now, she felt that same spark, that same promise of a future filled with love and passion.
His hand lingered on the small of her back, his fingers absentmindedly twisting a golden curl around his finger. The gesture was tender, yet his expression was serious, his gaze unwavering. "Trev told me there were problems," he began, his voice laced with concern, "We have our own way of communicating, and he hinted that something wasn't right. I don't know the details, but if you're involved, I'm going to be there for you, Ren."
His words were a solemn vow, a promise etched in the intensity of his gaze. He meant every word. She had captured his heart completely, and he would do anything to protect her. Whatever was going on, he was determined to resolve it, to ensure her safety and well-being.
"I missed you every single day," he confessed, his voice softening as his hand moved to gently cradle her face, his forehead resting against hers. "Did you really think that after that night, the night before I left, I could forget about you, even for a second?"
His eyes closed briefly, his breath hitching as emotions surged within him. The memories of that night, the kiss, the unspoken promises, were still vivid, still burned brightly in his heart. He had tried to move on, to focus on his mission, but she had never left his thoughts, her image a constant companion in his solitude.
Her fingers gently caressed his cheek, her touch carrying the warmth of her affection. "Dante..." Renata's voice was a soft whisper, filled with tenderness. The night before his departure had been one of raw honesty and vulnerability. He had confessed the depth of his love for her, the years he had patiently waited, the trials he had endured. In the quiet intimacy of that night, they had both laid bare their souls, and she had become privy to his deepest fears - fears she had desperately tried to soothe.
His eyes fluttered open, locking onto hers. In their depths, she saw a reflection of his emotions - the lingering fear of rejection and the overwhelming relief that it had not materialized. "I couldn't forget about that night either," he admitted, his voice laced with emotion. "I've counted the days until you could be home. I've missed you too, love."
His words of longing for her were a balm to her heart, echoing the sentiments she held so dearly. Leaning closer, she brushed her lips against his in a feather-light kiss, a silent promise of the love that awaited them.
Her gentle touch, her soothing words, and her reassurance that his interpretation was correct were all Dante required. He drew her closer, his arm tightening around her waist, their bodies flush against each other, as his lips met hers with a renewed intensity. His actions spoke volumes of his love and longing for her. His embrace was both gentle and firm, his kiss filled with passion, every movement purposeful and directed solely towards her. He was oblivious to any onlookers; the only person who mattered was the woman in his arms. He had waited an eternity for this moment.
The world around them seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment. The only sounds were their soft breaths and the gentle rhythm of their heartbeats. Time seemed to stand still as they savored the sweetness of their reunion. Every touch, every kiss, and every whispered word was a testament to the depth of their feelings.
Dante had never felt so complete, so alive. Being with her filled him with a joy he had never known. He had searched for her for so long, and now that she was here, he never wanted to let her go. He would cherish every moment they had together, and he would do everything in his power to keep her safe and happy.
At the baggage claim's end, a man with dark hair came to a halt, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene between Dante and Renata. His hands, once relaxed, gradually clenched into fists as a tempest of anger and hurt raged within him. A bitter sense of betrayal twisted in his gut, an urge to lash out that he desperately fought to suppress. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to stride forward and confront the two who were shattering his world, yet he remained rooted to the spot, his blood boiling, his rage a relentless roar in his ears.
His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, and his breath came in ragged gasps. He felt as though he were trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up and escape the agonizing reality before him. The sight of Renata, her laughter echoing in the terminal, was like a knife twisting in his heart.
“If you take one step or make one move, I will take you to the ground and have cuffs on you so fast that you won’t know what hit you, Enzo. I have my badge, my gun, and my cuffs with me.” Trevarius’s voice was right at Enzo’s ear and the anger in it matched Enzo’s own.
Gabe is on a mission...and he has one destination...
It seemed to take Gabe an hour to drive from the original hotel to the one that Mel and the others had now holed up in. After circling a few different blocks, he found a parking garage without surveillance to leave the SUV in and texted Mel that he was on the way up. That was when he turned his phone off and headed down to the street below, to walk the remaining way to the hotel. No doubt Ambrose would be making sure that the GPS trackers on the SUVs were being watched and trying to triangulate their locations by their phones. While he would be able to find the SUV Gabe had driven, where he’d gone when he’d left the garage would be something that would take him longer to figure out. The fact that all the others with Melania had also turned off their phones indicated that they too had thought of this.
It was after 2 AM and there were no other people or vehicles in the area. The area appeared deserted, although he could see lights behind curtains on the floors above street level. Even if there were surveillance cameras in some of the shops and buildings he was passing, Gabe had turned up his collar to make it hard to see his face. One more step in making it harder for Ambrose to track them down. There were only four blocks he had to navigate, but he was hoping to keep to the shadows and make the trek as quickly as possible. He had been trusted not to give away their location.
Fifteen minutes after he’d stepped onto the street, he walked into the hotel lobby. It was bright and filled with old-world elegance. Marble floors, ornate furniture, and live flowers on every table; this was not your budget hotel. Bypassing the front desk, much to the interest of the desk clerk, Gabe headed straight for the elevators. He knew the room number and wanted to waste no time hanging out in areas where he could attract attention. Now he knew he had been on camera, but there was no way that the others could have made it up to the room without being recorded as well. Hopefully, there wasn’t a way to back door into the hotel’s security system. He knew the type of men Ambrose hired, and if there was, they’d do it.
When he’d finally made it up to the room, he could hear laughing inside. Obviously, even if Mel had been tired, she hadn’t fallen asleep just yet. He knocked on the door and found himself yanked inside when the door cracked open. Facing him were Mel, Alexander, and Cade all sitting on the couch with bottles of wine, gin, whiskey, and scotch on the table in front of them. Judging from their demeanor, they had all enjoyed some while waiting for him.
“Feeling more relaxed?” Gabe asked with a bemused smirk as Dez headed back over to the chair he’d been sitting in.
Mel was on her feet and on the way over to him before he could finish asking the question. “I am now, you finally made it!” Her arms wrapped around him and her face was buried in his chest.
Instinctively his arms went around her and he held her in close. Only now did he notice the slight tremor in her body. His eyes looked questioningly at Alexander and Cade. What the hell was going on?
“She tried to sleep; needless to say some things cause horrible nightmares,” Alexander answered the silent question that hung in the air. “So, we decided to drown her in booze.” His hand gestured to all of the bottles on the table.
“Did you know she has five fake identities in her purse? They’re complete with driver’s licenses, passports, and credit cards. FIVE. Do you think the boss will let us keep her?” Dez had obviously had too much whiskey, but he did get a half-chuckle out of Gabe.
“She’s not a fucking pet asshole. And no, I doubt Ambrose would allow us to take her on missions. Although you would have been proud Gabe, the girl intimidated the ever-loving hell outta the front desk clerk that was here when we got in. I think he may have wet himself.” Alexander chuckled as he poured himself some more scotch.
Cade moved over to one of the chairs, stretching his long legs out to rest atop the coffee table, as Mel and Gabe moved to sit on the couch. Mel was still all but trembling and Alexander put his arm around her shoulders when she sat down. He looked over at Gabe with an expression that said he was worried about her, but that it wasn’t the time or place to say anything. Gabe nodded, this wasn’t a great situation.
“If you guys want to go back to the other hotel, I’ll understand.” Mel’s voice was soft and quiet, hardly the woman any of them had seen earlier in the day at the hotel.
“I don’t know about the other boys, but I was hired to keep your ass safe while you were here. I don’t see how I’d be doing that if I left you here. If Ambrose decides to take the money back…I’m not worried.” Cade was the first to answer. There was no hesitation or doubt in his voice as he looked over at her with a slight cocky smirk on his face, and then gave her a wink.
“I think my boy said it well enough. If I was doubting, I wouldn’t have shown up beautiful.” Gabe used two fingers under her chin to turn her face towards him, then kissed her forehead.
“I was never here just because of a job from Ambrose,” Alexander added, causing Mel to look over at him with affection. He really was like a big brother, and just as protective.
“Fuck, if I wanted to go back, I wouldn’t have driven that damned SUV all the way out to the airport and had to take a cab back.” Dez laughed, winking over at her.
“If your money is taken back, I’ll still pay you,” Mel said softly, even as she knew that didn’t seem to be a concern for any of them. When Cade started to object, since he was the one who had mentioned money, she added, “I’m worth more than Nic now that my parents are dead. And it means nothing to me.” Cade reached over and squeezed her fingers. Damn, the girl was stronger than she looked, both inside and outside.
“That reminds me, how the hell did you guys get here from the coffee shop? It’s quite a hike.” Gabe asked as his hand took Mel’s to keep hers from shaking. “And did you leave all the weapons out at the airport? Really?” He looked over at Dez.
“She has a Porsche SUV bro. A FUCKING PORSCHE.” Cade laughed. “And all the weapons are in the back safely in their cases. Well, except for the two cases that have the tracking devices in them. They’re at the airport along with the SUV, just no weapons in them.” He laughed. They had swept everything that they transferred between vehicles. There had been no tracing devices in any of it. All of them, knowing Nic and Ambrose, didn’t want to take any chances.
Gabe nodded as he saw Mel’s head starting to nod. “I think it’s bedtime for you before you fall asleep on Alexander and me, then we’re pinned to the couch all night.” She laughed as he helped her up and to the bedroom on the right side of the small living room that had two beds in it. There was a bedroom on the other side that had two beds in it as well. He helped Mel off with her hiking boots and up onto the bed. Exhaustion, emotions, and the liquor were starting to have a strong effect on her.
Alexander came in behind them, kicking off his shoes and flopping on the other bed in the room. “I’m taking this one, Dez snores when he’s drunk. You can have one of the beds in the room across the living room. Cade is going to take the first watch for the next few hours.” His words were slightly slurred as he was obviously drifting off to sleep.
Gabe looked down at Mel who was starting to drift off. He leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead. How could Klaus have been such an idiot as to not listen and just hang up on her? Furthermore, how was Erik an even bigger idiot for what he’d done? She was a woman who proved she wasn’t afraid and could be just as fierce as they could. Shaking his head, he began to back up.
Gorgeous blue eyes cracked open and looked up at him. “Don’t go yet, just sit here till I fall asleep? Please?” The look in her tired eyes tore at him. Damn it if he wasn’t a sucker for a damsel in distress. He saw Alexander chuckle as he rolled over, giving him a thumbs up as he did. Sitting down on the bed next to where she was lying, he took her hand in his and leaned back against the headboard. He prayed the next day wouldn’t be nearly as long or as sideways as the previous 24 hours had been.
Soon Gabe felt his head starting to drop. He started to move off of the bed but looked down at his fingers intertwined with hers and changed his mind. Instead, he slipped down to lay flat on his back next to her. A soft smile formed on his lips as he felt her move closer to him and he drifted off to sleep. Fuck what any of the rest of them thought, Klaus may have promised to keep her safe but he was actually going to do it.
Just over three hours later, the soft click of the lock on the door to the suite signaled that someone was coming in. A lone figure slipped through the barely cracked door, carefully closing it behind him. The feel of a gun barrel at his temple told him instantly that his entry had not gone undetected. As he waited to find out who it was that had gotten guard duty, a slow smirk crossed his lips.
“You’d better have one damn good excuse for being in here asshole, because if you don’t you’re going to wish you had never opened that door.” The end of the barrel pressed more firmly into his skull as he heard Cade’s voice low and growling.
“Seeing as my grandfather is paying your fucking ass, I think I have a good enough excuse to come in if I want. Although how the fuck you all got here is something I’ve got to hear.” Nic’s quiet voice held amusement. It had taken him what seemed like forever to even find a clue where any of them had gone.
“Shit bro, you’re lucky I asked questions first. How the fuck did you find us?” Cade holstered his weapon and moved closer to Nic so that they’re voices wouldn’t wake the other four up.
“Gabe parked his SUV four blocks away. When he stopped answering his phone, I went hunting.” Nic shook his head. “Y’all were fucking hard as hell to find. One female with three bodyguards does make an impression on a desk clerk though.” He chuckled. “Two rooms? Who’s where?”
“Dez is over there. The door is closed because his snoring was about to drive me insane. Alexander, Mel, and Gabe are all over there.” Cade gestured as he talked. He had sobered up an hour or so before and was now annoyingly clear-headed and awake, albeit with a massive headache.
“You know how she got out? And how did you end up here with your SUV at the airport?” Nic looked over at Cade as he leaned his back against the wall.
“Window in your grandfather’s office in the suite, along the ledge to the fire escape that was one room over, then down to the alleyway. Then she just walked until she got to a coffee shop. From there she rented the car and got ahold of Gabe. Gabe texted us. We met up with her at the coffee shop. When she got tired, Dez took the SUV to the airport and got a cab back here with the cash she gave him. We had already transferred all the weapons into the back of her SUV, so it was safe for him to leave it. Then she drove us here. She was the lead the whole time bro, organized the whole damn thing. Did you know she has five false identities?” Cade almost laughed as he talked.
“More than five, and yes I did. Although apparently, grandfather’s men have made some new ones because I couldn’t find a trace of the old ones. I only got the key up here because I scared the desk clerk more than the rest of you did.” Nic answered, pausing for a moment. “I wasn’t here. Understand? Tell none of them. She’s safe, you’re all alive. That’s all I cared about. I’ll keep grandfather off your asses, but you’re going to have to show up eventually. Let me know when you are and I’ll buffer the reception.”
Cade looked over at Nic with a newfound respect. He had expected to get dressed down for going off grid and helping Mel, not that he cared, but he hadn’t expected Nic to cover for their asses. Not that he was going to turn it down. “Never saw ya bro. I gotta ask though….how insane have Ambrose and Klaus gone?”
“Grandfather is convinced one or more of you are with Mel. This Oglesby though, he’s a major player and violent and vicious. He’d kill Mel if it gave him a tactical advantage with grandfather and Alexander, so I wouldn’t say he’s exactly calm.” Nic looked over in the dim light of the room, the expression on his face clear to Cade. Nic was worried. Ambrose was worried. The main thing was not to let this asshole know that Alexander and Mel were in the same place.
“Klaus is a mess. I don’t know if Gabe told you but he damn near shattered Erik’s jaw. Grandfather had to fly in a medic to at least set it enough for the moment so that he wasn’t in so much pain he couldn’t think. He also broke his cheekbone and gave him a concussion. The doc thinks Erik may have a couple of broken ribs too. That was from less than a half-dozen punches. I think that Erik’s lucky that the blow to the throat didn’t crush his windpipe. Erik is having to use the laptop to type out his answers to questions at the moment. Although threats of letting Klaus back in the room are more effective than anything in getting his cooperation.” He saw Cade’s eyes go wide in the gloom and nodded. “So I think that tells you how he’s doing. He’s no less upset now than he was when he about knocked me and grandfather over to get to Erik. We’ve had to keep Klaus separated from grandfather, they do nothing but butt heads because Klaus is being kept in the hotel and not out looking for Mel. They’re going to end up shooting one another if they’re left alone too long.” Nic sighed. “ That she hasn’t called or contacted him is driving him out of his mind. He’s like a caged lion. So yeah.” Nic shook his head lightly. He felt for the other man, truly he did. There was just nothing that could be done at the moment to make the situation better without pissing off his cousin. Klaus had made his own bed when he hung up on her, he’d just have to lie in it a bit longer.
“Sounds like you’ve got your hands full bro. But hey, you think in the future we could get the short chick to come with us on missions?” Cade tried to lighten the mood. “She’s good; I mean she’s damn good. She put the fear of God in Andreas, she slipped out of a locked room and had you chasing your tail, and she can pull off a cover identity as well as any of us. We could use her.”
“I take it you want to have Ambrose committed to the lunatic asylum. He would go all kinds of batshit crazy.” Nic laughed. He had to admit, she might have picked up too much over the years from being around him and their grandfather. “Now, before any of them wake up, or I’m out of contact for too long and they start checking up on me…I’m getting my ass out of here. You need anything…ANYTHING…you call ME, no one else.”
“Got it, bro. Be careful, if there could be a target on Mel’s back from this Oglesby, there could be one on yours too. We’ll keep her safe, don’t worry.” Cade nodded once toward Nic. They were friends, more like brothers, and as much as he would guard Mel’s ass, he’d guard Nic’s back as well.
With that Nic slipped out of the room as almost silently as he slipped in. Now he knew that his cousin was safe, it was time to hunt Oglesby.
Branoc's evil is not even kept away from his sons...
Each lash of the whip made Emery grunt, but he was not going to give his father’s soldiers the satisfaction of hearing him cry out. He knew that inside his brother would be charming the innocent Princess. That Raiden knew the pain he would be enduring, all the while no doubt seducing Adelia started a fire in his breast. If there was anyone that could have seduced Siara and impregnated her, his bets would be firmly on his own brother, if not their father. It wasn’t like either of them had any moral compass that guided them. While he and Raiden did not fight outright, he knew that both his father and brother wished Raiden were the one next in line to the throne.
The crack of the whip breaking the silence of the horse barn seemed like it would never end. Each one another weight upon his resolve to not crumble. This wasn’t the first time that he’d been chained in the open doorway of the back doors of the barn, it would most likely not be the last, if his father had his way. Each time he lasted a little longer, the whippings a little brutal, the hatred in his heart for his father and brother a little stronger, and the determination to rise above and destroy his family a lot firmer. If his father did not cancel the engagement to Adelia, the rose amongst the weeds of the royalty inside might just be the key he needed to destroy all around him.
No matter how much he tried, Emery wasn’t able to hold out forever, though. He was able to keep from begging or crying out. Grunts were all the soldiers got before he passed out, his body limply hanging from the chains that led to the manacles encircling his wrists. For that, the soldiers continued to rain down blows on him even after he had fallen into unconsciousness. It was not as if he could tell the King about it. They often took out their hatred for Branoc on his sons, most people did.
There is some tension in the autopsy suite when people forget their place...
Karsten didn’t miss the amused look on Declan’s face when he and Serena walked into the private autopsy suite. Something told him their moment in the garage had not gone unnoticed or possibly unwatched. That was a conversation for when Serena and Spencer weren’t around. Even if Spencer knew, he wasn’t going to do anything that would upset Serena, not after finally having some kind of a start with her.
Trying to ignore Declan, Karsten took in the rest of the room. Looked like Spence had been setting everything up. “There a reason you stopped what you were doing, Spence?” An eyebrow rose. Please don’t let it be that the two men who had been waiting for them were now going to give both him and Rena shit. Dec busting his balls he expected later, but Spencer? That would be new.
“That door causes awful wind noise on the mic, and anything said/done is then observable. Standard procedure. I was documenting setup, now I’ll turn it back on so we can document the transfer of evidence. Then you guys can get your coats off and Rena can get into scrubs. Unless you’d prefer to do the examination in your coat and nice suit, boss?” Spencer winked teasingly over at Serena. He knew that she already had known the answer, even if Declan looked like he was about to embarrass the shit out of her at any second. It would be a shame if his scalpel slipped and the big guy was cut so he had to go get stitches. Declan had promised, and Spencer was going to hold him to it.
“No, scrubs are definitely preferable. Karsten, lock the door to the hall, please.” She turned and looked at him with a smile, butterflies still flitting around in her stomach. He was handsome, strong, brave, and everything good that she could think of. Their kiss may have come at the absolute worst time as far as timing, but she didn’t regret it. Even if it was going to complicate things with Keegan. However, she couldn’t let any of that get in the way of her work.
Once the door was locked, she turned back to the other two men, giving a pointed look to Declan that had him standing up straighter and the smile wiped off of his face. She had a feeling that somehow Spencer and Declan knew about the kiss, but she wasn’t going to let this turn into anything other than what it should be: a respectful situation where the eye of a poor girl who was at that very moment probably being tortured, or worse. “Whatever it is that you find amusing, Detective O’Malley, I suggest that you get it out of your system, or get your ass out of my autopsy suite. There is nothing remotely amusing or funny that ever takes place in here; nothing about this situation is an exception.” Her tone was chiding, and it had both Spencer and Karsten raising eyebrows. Head ME Cavenaugh was taking charge of her autopsy suite; heaven help anyone that got in her way.
While Karsten had almost choked laughing at the way Rena had put Declan in his place, he was NOT going to let her see his amusement. Thankfully he was standing slightly behind her because it was clear that the mood in the room had just become a lot more serious. Just how Declan had reacted before she’d even said a word told him that she must have looked pissed. Karsten had just made a step forward with her, he wasn’t going to get body-slammed backward now. “Should we, uh, turn that recorder thing back on so we can get started? I’m starting to roast over here and I’d like to know what we’re dealing with. You going to be able to handle that, Dec?” A sarcastic smile was thrown over at his partner, although his tone said he was all business. Spence was smirking; smart man not to laugh at the nonverbal barbs being thrown.
“Yes, let’s get this going. Deterioration of the eye and all.” Spencer cleared his throat and felt a bit twitch now. Boss was now touchy and he wasn’t going to press his luck. Reaching up, Spencer flipped the switch to turn on the video cameras and audio equipment, so that it recorded once more. Once again he stated the date, the new time, and who was in the room. Then all the procedural bullshit had to take place so that the chain of evidence was maintained. He hated that part but knew that if things ever made it to court that it would be vital.
While there had not been a formal recording, there had been video still being taken of the room while the evidentiary recording had been stopped. This was for two reasons. 1 - Security. The room was always monitored so that if there WAS any tampering of evidence while the room was empty, there would be documentation. 2 - Safety. There were a lot of people who wanted things hidden that would come out in an autopsy. The video camera was a silent witness. It didn’t pick up audio, but faces were clear as day. Should anyone come into the room, there was documentation even if there was no actual autopsy going on.
Once Spencer had started the recording again for evidence, she did the handoff to him and headed toward the door that led to the private locker room to the suite so she could change out of the suit she was wearing and into scrubs for the exam. Even though she was only doing the post-mortem on an eye, she wanted to maintain proper procedure. One of the things that Constantin Rakeovich had tended to skate out of trouble on was inconsistencies in procedure. She didn’t want to give him that opening now.
The locker room off of the autopsy suite had two lockers in it. One for Spencer and one for her. Serena locked the door behind her and headed to get changed into her scrubs and pull her hair back for the post-mortem. As she started to change, she could hear the men’s voices low outside the door. She couldn’t hear what they were saying clearly though. Hopefully, they had turned off the audio when she had left the room or they were talking about the case. The last thing they needed was chit-chat being caught on audio. Since they just needed to document that the cooler had remained sealed while she was changing, they could turn off the audio and just leave the video trained on the cooler. She’d have to trust Spencer was experienced enough to do just that.
As soon as Spencer heard the door lock, he turned the audio recording off. He had no clue what Declan was going to say, but he had a good idea that they didn’t want it recorded. The cooler, all of the surgical instruments, and all other evidentiary items were in plain view of the video camera he left on. The lack of audio wouldn’t make a difference as far as the evidentiary chain of custody. The rest of the room was still covered by the surveillance camera, so if there was any question, that could be viewed as well. The only thing NOT being recorded in some form or fashion was Serena changing, and there were laws that pertained to that.
“Took you long enough,” Declan leaned up against the coolers that lined one wall of the autopsy suite. “Thought you were going to be drawing retirement or attending her wedding to Mulvaney before you got the nerve to say something to her. Nice kiss by the way.” The smile on the man’s face rivaled that of the Cheshire Cat from Alice.
He’d known it was coming, but still, Declan’s words almost made Karsten growl. The look on Dec’s face had made it clear that he’d known what had happened out in the garage. It wasn’t till he remembered the security camera feeds that went to several of the autopsy areas that he knew how. Because there was a door directly into the garage from Rena’s private suite, it had a feed of the garage so you could see who was outside the door if need be. It didn’t bother him that they’d had an audience, but if Declan caused Serena to get upset, there’d be hell for someone to pay.
“Fuck you Dec.” Kase flipped his partner off. “I was trying to be respectful. Something you obviously need lessons on. But I think we all knew that.” Great, the last thing Kase needed was his partner on his ass about Rena. At least he knew Dec liked the woman, maybe more than liked. She was a sweet person and had made more than one case for a cop that the evidence had been a little light on. They all liked her.
“If you two want to have a hug fest, I suggest you do it in the hall. Boss is going to have one or both of your asses if you get into it in here. She’s pretty handy with a scalpel, and I don’t want to have to clean up the blood.” Spencer rolled his eyes and sat down at the desk to take some notes before everything got started. He knew the two cops very well; they were like brothers, sometimes a little too much.
“Nah, we’re good. Aren’t we Kase?” Dec gave Karsten another shit-eating grin. “I’m just proud my boy here’s balls finally dropped. Maybe now his voice will deepen a little more.” He winked at Karsten. Spencer again rolled his eyes and turned his back to the cops. He wanted no part of this. Nope, none at all.
“You are a royal ass, Dec!” Karsten growled. He knew he was going to keep hearing about this. At least his partner seemed smart enough not to say anything in front of Rena. If he did, there would be bigger issues between them. “Like I was just supposed to just move in the day after Rob left. I’m not that big of an ass. I’m already going to hear it from Mulvaney and we both know it. Not that I give a fuck. Glow bug can kiss my ass.”
Dec full-out laughed. “Yeah, he’s going to have a problem with it alright. From what I hear from Riaz over at the station house, he’s been working on getting close to her since the day Rob walked out. He didn’t wait, then again maybe he has a set of balls. That she’s been hanging out at Kelleher’s hasn’t hurt any either. Now that yours have finally dropped, you can get on with things too.” Dec shook his head. “Am I going to have to keep you two separated for a while? Two males fighting over a bitch in heat.”
“If he’s got a problem, that’s his problem. He knew how I felt even before Rob left. If he thought that was going to change after Rob left, that’s not my problem. And watch it, asshole, that’s Rena you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you landed the big fish this time. But can you keep her in your bed and not have her going to visit her favorite glow bug? I mean, they have been pretty chummy. I’ve heard she’s been over to his place.” Now he was just getting under his partner’s skin for the hell of it. He knew Karsten couldn’t do anything with Spencer and Serena around. Watching the red creep up Kase’s neck was amusing the fuck out of him though, boy had it bad for the doc.
“I think I’m perfectly capable of keeping Rena happy, asshole. I don’t think she’ll be looking anywhere else for satisfaction. I’ll keep her nice and happy in my bed, not that it should be a worry of yours.” Kase was gritting his teeth. At times he wanted to deck his partner.
Good god, they were not going to shut up about this and where this was going was about to piss Spencer straight off. Spinning around in his chair, Spencer leveled a pointed glare at both of them. “Might I remind you both that we’re talking about my boss, your friend,” he looked over to Declan, “and someone you claim to care about.” Now it was Karsten’s turn to come under scrutiny. “This isn’t one of your cop groupies that hangs out at Mulligan’s hoping to snag one of you boys in blue. Either knock off talking about her like she’s some prize to be won,” the glare he gave Dec had the larger man actually shrinking back slightly, “or a bitch in heat or get the fuck out of this autopsy suite. I get you boys like to talk about your conquests like drunken frat boys when you’re at the station or out drinking, but I’m not going to have it.” He started flipping a spare scalpel between his fingers.
Spencer stood up and looked between the two cops. He wasn’t big enough to take on Declan, but Karsten possibly. Either way, he was tired of listening to them. Hadn’t Serena been put through enough by a cop? “Now, either of you have a problem with that? Or do I need to turn the audio back on so Serena can hear exactly how little respect either you have for her?” Arms crossed over his chest he looked at the two men, almost daring one of them to open their mouths again. The banter had started fine, but he’d had enough when they’d started talking about bedding her.
Karsten rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. Spencer was right and he knew it. He’d let Declan bait him into sounding like an ass. “I’m done with the conversation. The only other person besides Rena herself that I need to talk about any of this with is Mulvaney, and I guarantee you it’s not going to go the way this one did. The glow bug actually has some class.” He leaned back against the cold concrete wall behind him. That wasn’t a conversation he was looking forward to either. He was either going to lose a friend, or probably Rena, he hoped not both.
Declan looked at the floor. He’d been so focused on goading Kase that he hadn’t thought about how it sounded, or how he’d referred to someone he did consider a friend, an ally, and an all-around good person. “I’m done. Sorry, Spence. Sorry, Kase.” Spence was right, they’d been asses and had sounded like frat boys. He was disappointed in himself, he wouldn’t have talked about any of the female officers he worked with that way. He respected Rena, highly so, and Spencer was right that she didn’t deserve how he and Kase had handled things. He knew Kase had responded how he had because Dec had irritated him till he didn’t think before talking. He was thankful for small favors that Rena hadn’t walked back out while they were talking.
“Good. Now one of you go get coffee because I haven’t had enough to deal with your bullshit and an eye from some poor girl that is probably being tortured as we speak. Get one for the boss too. And if either of you gets out of line once she’s back in here, you won’t have to worry about her prowess with a scalpel, I’ll castrate you myself.” Both men’s eyebrows rose as Spencer flopped back in his desk chair and spun around to resume paperwork. His normal patience was gone, and for the first time in a long time, he’d just snapped at someone.
