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Entry tags:
JtAH 07
Title: Journey to Another Hell IV
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anita Blake
AN: Mentions of past-noncon.
Peter was worried. Anita had sounded serious with her warnings, enough that the fear had crawled into his head and made itself a little home.
Edward was certain that they were going to be all right. He was trusting his weapons and his years of experience to see them through. While Peter wanted to believe, he couldn't quite tame the worry that they were making a mistake. They should pack up and go home, rethink the plan and try again when they were better prepared. Peter didn't want to be such a liability.
Instead they were skulking around the Blood District at eleven in the morning. The streets were pretty empty at this time of day, which didn't keep them from sticking out like sore thumbs. Edward said it meant they had to be slicker about not drawing attention. It was easier to meld into a crowd at night than to walk around in the open during the day.
It wasn't like they were doing anything illegal at the moment. Ted Forester was a registered bounty hunter and they were tracking a bail jumper named Cyrus Muldondy. He was their excuse for coming to St Louis in the first place, a vampire with a predilection for teenaged boys.
Peter wasn't willing to offer himself as bait for the sicko and Edward had nixed the idea first thing, but it was something he was aware of. Cyrus liked teenaged boys with dark hair and athletic builds, and while he'd been careful not to kill or turn any of his victims, an undead rapist was a nightmare worth stopping.
The parents of four of his victims had pooled together the money for the bounty. The police-issued warrants against Cyrus could only claim his charges of breaking and entering and failure to appear in traffic court. And he'd only gotten the B&E charge because the sister of his last attempted victim had called the police before he'd made it all the way through the doggy door.
Everyone knew what Cyrus Muldondy had done and investigators were desperately looking for evidence, but he was a smooth operator. Cyrus had a trust left from his grandfather, the ability to cloud his victims' minds, and there was suspicion that he'd had an accomplice in the police--someone willing to clean up the evidence enough that the case against him had disappeared like smoke.
Considering his own experiences--and he tried his best not to--Peter wanted to see Cyrus Muldondy on the wrong end of an execution. A monster like that didn't deserve to be walking around free, and definitely not for forever.
"Are we sure this is his lair?" Peter asked. He wanted to whisper, but he forced himself to sound normal. All the vampires were sleeping for the day, closed up tight in their coffins.
"So they say," Edward said. "The vamps hire out daylight security to the werehyenas, so we don't want to get in a scuffle. We've got an appointment with their oba and need to treat things civilized-like."
"And if she doesn't want to help us?"
"He. Narcissus is a special case. We'll talk to him nicely, and if that doesn't work ..." Edward shrugged.
Peter stared up at the tall apartment building. All the windows were blacked out, and from what Edward's notes said, they were bricked up on the inside.
Cyrus had rented him an apartment in the vampire boarding house equivalent of Fort Knox. The walls were reinforced, the windows were decorative, the fire suppression systems were state of the art--Cyrus' money was protecting him. No one was going to attack the building without drawing down too much police attention to handle.
It made Peter's chest hurt to think that a complete scumbag could hide away from what he'd done just because he had a ton of money. It didn't seem right.
"Maybe I should play bait," Peter said.
He jumped when Edward's hand landed on his shoulder. "Not going to happen. Come on. Let's go get dressed up to meet the hyenas."
Knowing Edward's dislike of all monsters, Peter didn't say anything. He walked back to the truck and tried not to think of Cyrus getting away with his crimes.
"Don't dwell," Edward said. "We need to be focused when we face the werehyenas. They're able to smell weakness."
"I know," Peter said.
Edward started the engine with a twist of the wrist. "Now isn't the time to get lost in your head."
"I know," Peter repeated. And he did know. He'd heard the lectures before. He knew how dangerous lycanthropes were--he'd watched his dad die at the claws of a raging werewolf, lesson learned--but this whole Cyrus Muldondy situation was pressing his buttons.
Peter leaned his head against the passenger door and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths and forced away the nightmare memories that wanted to creep into his mind. (Hands on his hips, muscular thighs closing around him, the sharp tang of feminine arousal, hands clenching around his throat while tears seeped out of his eyes.) The fear never completely went away.
His counseling sessions had ended with the deaths of his mother and sister. He'd gone on the road with Edward, and being a monster killer felt a bit like coming home. Still, there were times when he thought he wasn't handling the aftermath of his rape as well as he could. Like when he thought of Cyrus Muldondy and all he wanted to do was set the man on fire, quench the flames, then burn him again, over and over, until not even vampire healing could bring Cyrus back.
Peter took deep breaths and tried to fill his mind with calm.
It was okay to hunt and kill the monsters--it was something that needed to be done for all those people that couldn't otherwise get justice. But he couldn't let himself give in to the hurt and rage. He was Edward's partner, and sloppiness would not be tolerated.
He didn't want to be sent home alone.
He didn't want to be alone.
TBC...
Author: Feygan
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Anita Blake
AN: Mentions of past-noncon.
Peter was worried. Anita had sounded serious with her warnings, enough that the fear had crawled into his head and made itself a little home.
Edward was certain that they were going to be all right. He was trusting his weapons and his years of experience to see them through. While Peter wanted to believe, he couldn't quite tame the worry that they were making a mistake. They should pack up and go home, rethink the plan and try again when they were better prepared. Peter didn't want to be such a liability.
Instead they were skulking around the Blood District at eleven in the morning. The streets were pretty empty at this time of day, which didn't keep them from sticking out like sore thumbs. Edward said it meant they had to be slicker about not drawing attention. It was easier to meld into a crowd at night than to walk around in the open during the day.
It wasn't like they were doing anything illegal at the moment. Ted Forester was a registered bounty hunter and they were tracking a bail jumper named Cyrus Muldondy. He was their excuse for coming to St Louis in the first place, a vampire with a predilection for teenaged boys.
Peter wasn't willing to offer himself as bait for the sicko and Edward had nixed the idea first thing, but it was something he was aware of. Cyrus liked teenaged boys with dark hair and athletic builds, and while he'd been careful not to kill or turn any of his victims, an undead rapist was a nightmare worth stopping.
The parents of four of his victims had pooled together the money for the bounty. The police-issued warrants against Cyrus could only claim his charges of breaking and entering and failure to appear in traffic court. And he'd only gotten the B&E charge because the sister of his last attempted victim had called the police before he'd made it all the way through the doggy door.
Everyone knew what Cyrus Muldondy had done and investigators were desperately looking for evidence, but he was a smooth operator. Cyrus had a trust left from his grandfather, the ability to cloud his victims' minds, and there was suspicion that he'd had an accomplice in the police--someone willing to clean up the evidence enough that the case against him had disappeared like smoke.
Considering his own experiences--and he tried his best not to--Peter wanted to see Cyrus Muldondy on the wrong end of an execution. A monster like that didn't deserve to be walking around free, and definitely not for forever.
"Are we sure this is his lair?" Peter asked. He wanted to whisper, but he forced himself to sound normal. All the vampires were sleeping for the day, closed up tight in their coffins.
"So they say," Edward said. "The vamps hire out daylight security to the werehyenas, so we don't want to get in a scuffle. We've got an appointment with their oba and need to treat things civilized-like."
"And if she doesn't want to help us?"
"He. Narcissus is a special case. We'll talk to him nicely, and if that doesn't work ..." Edward shrugged.
Peter stared up at the tall apartment building. All the windows were blacked out, and from what Edward's notes said, they were bricked up on the inside.
Cyrus had rented him an apartment in the vampire boarding house equivalent of Fort Knox. The walls were reinforced, the windows were decorative, the fire suppression systems were state of the art--Cyrus' money was protecting him. No one was going to attack the building without drawing down too much police attention to handle.
It made Peter's chest hurt to think that a complete scumbag could hide away from what he'd done just because he had a ton of money. It didn't seem right.
"Maybe I should play bait," Peter said.
He jumped when Edward's hand landed on his shoulder. "Not going to happen. Come on. Let's go get dressed up to meet the hyenas."
Knowing Edward's dislike of all monsters, Peter didn't say anything. He walked back to the truck and tried not to think of Cyrus getting away with his crimes.
"Don't dwell," Edward said. "We need to be focused when we face the werehyenas. They're able to smell weakness."
"I know," Peter said.
Edward started the engine with a twist of the wrist. "Now isn't the time to get lost in your head."
"I know," Peter repeated. And he did know. He'd heard the lectures before. He knew how dangerous lycanthropes were--he'd watched his dad die at the claws of a raging werewolf, lesson learned--but this whole Cyrus Muldondy situation was pressing his buttons.
Peter leaned his head against the passenger door and closed his eyes. He took deep breaths and forced away the nightmare memories that wanted to creep into his mind. (Hands on his hips, muscular thighs closing around him, the sharp tang of feminine arousal, hands clenching around his throat while tears seeped out of his eyes.) The fear never completely went away.
His counseling sessions had ended with the deaths of his mother and sister. He'd gone on the road with Edward, and being a monster killer felt a bit like coming home. Still, there were times when he thought he wasn't handling the aftermath of his rape as well as he could. Like when he thought of Cyrus Muldondy and all he wanted to do was set the man on fire, quench the flames, then burn him again, over and over, until not even vampire healing could bring Cyrus back.
Peter took deep breaths and tried to fill his mind with calm.
It was okay to hunt and kill the monsters--it was something that needed to be done for all those people that couldn't otherwise get justice. But he couldn't let himself give in to the hurt and rage. He was Edward's partner, and sloppiness would not be tolerated.
He didn't want to be sent home alone.
He didn't want to be alone.
TBC...