Make a Wish (Dominique)

[Roderic]

My stare moves off the reflective surface of the clever, and finds Dominique as she talks. What she tells me doesn't phase me or will keep me from doing what was planned. She didn't like turkey. So what? It wasn't my choice of meat, but I probably ate it a couple times a year. "I too didn't eat a lot of turkey while growing up. I prefer venison. Or did." A small grin forms on the corners of my lips as I think of the first time I shot my own doe with a bow in my teens. I don't share this thought, because many teen boys take part in this entry of adulthood, more or less. I just shake my head. "Thanksgiving, we always had turkey. The exception of one year." I confess, but leave it at that. That year my mom was too god damn depressed to even get out of bed most days, so how could I expect a Thanksgiving turkey, or meal for that matter? I obviously survived.

"But," I say as I slowly swing the big, thick blade with my wrist, slow and steady. "I distinctly recall eating the thigh and leg areas the most. Drumstick, I think it's referred to." What could I say? Seems my preference to things 'dark' applied to the things I ate, once upon a time. I move to stand beside Dominique and then bring the clever down to the table, besides her plate. We'll need this, but not for a while. It's more a clean up tool for later on. What we need, is a different tool. "Good thing we don't actually have a bird to eat, tonight." I tell her as both my hands come to rest on her shoulder, once I move behind her seat. "We will enjoy the fruits of our labor, though. Well, you, more specifically." Human blood does nothing for me and hasn't for years. It's like being offered rabbit or squirrel. There's really no comparison on what skittish creature is the better taste. I squeeze the top of her shoulders. I appreciate how muscular they are for a chick. Not that I don't know that. Dominique is capable of tossing my *** through a wall, if I hit the right nerve.

"I imagine that we only have around ten to fif-" I stop and cough. "Fift-" Again, I find myself unable to say the word, the very oddity in the word itself just drives me insane. "Fourteen minutes." The rest of the words just glide off my tongue like silk as I let go of Dominique and move back to the table of goodies. "Then it will be too late." I tell Dominique simply as I pick up an all too familiar scalpel and bring it around to the table as I take a seat across from Dominique. Very gently I put the scalpel down above my plate and then fold my hands as my elbows land on the table. I know it's rude, but I'm not really eating a single thing tonight. My crossed hands come to rest on my plate finally, relieving my elbows from holding my arms and hands up anymore. "We'll have to figure out if you're more a wing, or thigh type of chick." I glance to the small scalpel and then to Dominique. "The biggest arteries are there. Would be a shame to let it all go to waste as it escapes from her jaw and chin. There's still a decent amount in her for drinking." I then look at her wine glass and then mine, indicating what was on my mind for the night. For now.

[Dominique]

The cool capping of his palms over her shoulders reminds her that no matter where he sets his hands it still feels a little different every time. The skin between them is dry, untainted and shockingly colorful. Deathly pale and confusingly cool. One of them has the capacity to feel next to nothing and the other has the ability to feel enough to drown them both. That is if she lets him in deep enough. Even their origins are equally different. Yet in the end both are so similar that they bleed the same obsidian curse when their veins submit to the whims of the world that cuts them more often than not for the same reasons. She sees and thinks too much and he is the one that is always prepared to point it out. On it goes. The contrasts make the current contact between them that much more vivid to her mind’s eye as she remains beneath his temporary hold. The sound of his voice so close keeps her with him absorbing his words like food for mental thought that should take far less time to consume than it actually has. His touch is withdrawn and again she is part of the scene at hand.

The clock is ticking on the viability of Rainbow’s generous bounty. A feast was waiting beneath her skin still locked in those venous highways that no longer have a heart to pump it along. Cooling and pooling are the chances of accessing it and partaking in it without risk. Not that Dom ever had a situation that had her drawing from the dead. But it was about to come down to trying to get blood out of a lifeless turnip. It was how her grandmother would have summed it up. Rocket science it surely wasn’t. What needed to happen would be no surprise to her dining companion either.

No words were offered to narrate her following actions as she lifted from her chair and used the backs of her plain and tattooed legs to nudge the chair she had been sitting in backwards. The space it provided gave her the room needed to move without interruption. She disappeared briefly from view and returned with two leather belts in her hands. Obviously they did not belong to her and it was safe to say she knew where Ric kept his. HOPE and LESS worked with efficient movements securing a belt around each bare ankle that would never again feel the weight of the woman motionless on the length of the dining table. Like the predatory lioness she was known to shift into her otherwise petite body went through the sleek, methodical movements of climbing onto the table without disrupting anything set out by her generous host. What she was doing surely could have been better suited elsewhere but it was about the moment and the offering Ric had brought forward for them to share. If it was not demonstrating thought and appreciation for his initial efforts she was not sure what would.

Eyeing the ceiling light fixture like a cat spotting a dangling string her body shot upward in the blink of an eye. Her black hair dropped down while she found the lighting strong enough to momentarily support her as she sent her heel into the flat surface that gave way upon impact. A second shove of her small heel created the opposite space needed for her to find one of the many ceiling joists she knew would be available. With the ease of cat she landed impressively light on the table beneath her. The guest of honor was lifted up while HOPE supported the back of the right leg managing to have luck on her side while spotting the small show of leather peeking down through the opposite hole. Again she jumped with a LESS capturing the leather end and pulling it down with her as she landed. This left Rainbow’s left leg dropping while the right was toes high in the ceiling above. A few more seconds of fancy handiwork and the leather belts were joined. A little shifting of the body had both legs straight as boards and the length of her former employee dangling nice and centered over the table.

Bright brilliant crimson drops followed her agile body down to the table as she slid back to stand on her feet. Both of which conveniently found the floor without a sound. HOPE and LESS brushed out the sheer material covering her setting whatever had become twisted back into it’s proper place. Her left hand reached over and took hold of the scalpel that had been set out for use. Despite the leaping and tabletop dancing she just performed in only a matter of a minute or two of time she figured using her claws would be rather ill mannered since he offered up a tool of his own for the specific purpose. In her right hand she claimed the sparkling yet empty glass closest to her. The silver shimmered against the skin beneath as the shadow pressed in with enough pressure that the flesh parted like softened butter to reveal the red and pink layers expected. With another slice came the flow of what filled the glass with a beautiful red and the air with a sweetness that still held the mouth watering promise of nourishment.

As her eyes locked on his the fluid continued to rise up to the rim of the glass positioned just to the side and below the point where the blood had to drop from. Once it was full she set it down gingerly. Her hand released the scalpel to where she had first took hold of it. HOPE and LESS pressed down flat on the surface of the table between her and Ric with each finger spreading out to avoid contact with the one next to it. She craned her neck slowly forward and tilted her head back just enough that the blood falling could pool in her mouth. She swallowed once then allowed it to pool again causing it to trickle down her chin, clinging to the slope of her neck and disappearing downward into the sheer silk over her upper body. Predictably the material was all too willing to absorb what her mouth did not. A certain sensation of calm came over her while carrying mental fragments of Rainbow.

Her tongue snaked out and curled over her top lip. A serving of blood memories she was more than prepared for. Then something else entered the scene that was unexpected. Something was on board in her system besides the little pieces of Rainbow left behind in the blood cells that now coated Dominique’s throat. Dark eyes fixed on Ric while she stayed poised standing and leaning over the table between them. Some much for tasting the rainbow. Her palate was assaulted with something she was working hard on breaking down. And that something was on the tip of her tongue as it returned for another tour of duty over her upper lip.

[Roderic]

I'm not a prideful person, but I can't help but feel a small tinge of pride with how the night is turning out. Everything is going well. Rainbow has kicked the bucket with the assistance of Dominique-a task I thought I would have to take care of, but my girl came around. Hung her up like a pinata above the dinning room table, and then she dove right in to the 'feast' of sorts. I watch from my seated position as Rainbow's blood finds a place in one of those elegant glasses people have to make themselves feel 'rich' for a night or two, and down Dom's chin. I didn't expect tonight to wind up going this 'easy,' but once Dominique tapped into her true, primal nature, the one that had been suppressed for too long, she was a natural at not only embracing it, but owning the **** out of it too.

My dark eyes don't leave off her as Dominique manipulates herself on top the table, like a cat. Everything about what she's doing reminds me of a feline of some sort. Something somewhat domesticated, because she's in control of what she's doing and how she's doing it. Sure, felines like lions and cougars know what they're doing when they're out in a hunt, but once the prey is down for the count, they lose themselves in the moment. It's a sort of blood lust. She's on all fours, lapping the blood up like a famished kitten-it's sort of...appealing in a sense. I can't quite describe what it is-but it's not what I expected when we got to this point and that's obvious to me, as my tongue darts out across my lower lip. I'm not judging Dominique, but I do notice the finesse; her elegance, in her feline actions around her prey, compared to that of say, a bobcat that had just taken down a deer.

Dominique's own inky colored eyes finally find mine as her tongue absorbs the crimson colored liquid that spilled over her lips while she picnicked on Rainbow's vital life force. At first, I offer Dominique a grin as my eyes remain locked on hers. There seems to be a subtle change going on within Dominique, but I can't quite place it yet. Her tongue trails over her lower lip seconds before her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her head slams against the table's top, as her hands slid outwards, and then Dominique's knees buckle. I shoot up from my seat, but remain where I am, waiting for Dominique to do something. It hasn't registered with me yet what happened until I let ten seconds go by and then move around the table. “Dom?” I ask, as I raise her right arm from off the table and then drop it, testing the waters. The arm drops and then swings freely. That's when it hits me. She drank Rainbow's blood, who had a nice sleeping agent in her, which meant...

“****.” I say as a hand goes through my long, dark, somewhat greasy hair as I stare down at Dominique. This hadn't been on my agenda, or in my plans, but I know her. She'll think it was. And so, I might as well make the most of it. A slow, wicked grin forms on my lips as tonight's plans change from something rated pg-13 at best, to something you would find in some basement of some adult store. Happy Thanksgiving to me.

“Change of plans, Dom.” I slap her *** hard just to make sure and get no reaction, so shrug my shoulders. I look up at Rainbow as I think about what to do with the night. Rainbow had lost all her appeal for tonight's festivities, now that I had Dominique down for the count. This doesn't happen often-ever. I have to make the most of it. And I planned to. I rub both my hands together as I plan away my nefarious deeds for the night and then roll Dom off the side of the table-to the side with the most carpet on it under the table. I imagine it helped-a little, even if the large 'bump' sound begs to differ.

In theory, I probably could have left Rainbow where she was, but who knew how long we would be? Dead weight was a lot different than weight of a living person, it almost seemed double to me when carrying a dead person over my shoulders, to that of a person who was living-but just out for the count. Maybe it's a psychological thing-but I'd rather error on the side of caution. I move to the side table with all my tools and grab the largest one. I set it on the dinning table, before both hands are planted firmly on it and I jump on top the table. I hear the table shift and even feel it wobble from my weight added to it, but that doesn't stop me. I need to get Rainbow down, because I don't want to see who my neighbor is upstairs, or have to explain any of this to the police. I take the large meat clever of sorts and hack off Rainbow's right arm at her wrist, and then follow suit with the left. She drops like a sack of potatoes and the arrangement clatters and tips from the sudden impact of her dead body on the table, before the table snaps and we're on the ground. Only, she's face down and I've landed on my feet with various pieces of broken china around my feet and ankles.

There's a pounding on the floor at my feet- a sign my neighbor is home and is unappreciative of the noise I'm making above his head. I shrug and ignore him, give him a stomp back, indicating I heard him before flipping Rainbow's corpse off. “I'll deal with you later.” I tell her quietly, because where is she going? I don't know how much time I'll have with Dominique in this state, so I need to hustle. I move to the bedroom and grab a duffle bag and then come back to the living room. I toss all my tools in the bag because I don't know what will be at our new location, zip it and stand. “Don't go anywhere.” I warn Dominique, not that I think she'll be getting up in the span of...I look down at the watch on my left wrist. Four minutes. I move to the front door, snag my boots and wait until I'm where I need to be before putting them on. This causes me to be mildly uncomfortable because I have a 'rule' of sorts about wearing boots, shoes, or any other sort of outside shoe, inside the apartment. My eyes cast a glance in Dominique's direction. Someone would have to pay. Rules were meant to be followed, in my mind.

With the duffle bag in one hand, I stretch my free hand out and teleport the both of us to one of two places that I knew of, due to one too many hunting excursions in the darkest, depths of the wilderness. When we arrive, I turn to look around and grin when I see the three leveled building in sight. “Don't feel the need to get up.” I tell a very out of it Dominique before I bend over and hoist her over my shoulder, and head inside the abandoned place.

[Dominique]

Dominique was slow on the uptake. Hell, who wouldn’t be? Everything up until that point was hot and for the most part getting damn promising. Or so she thought. Things shifted and went deep south when she took her dangling and suspension act into overtime drinking from the main course like she discovered the fountain of youth. All of which could have ended up being her very last supper. ******* curses. Who is supposed to ask for the ingredients label before tapping a vein? Crazy as it sounds it may need to be a thing. The last swallow had her tasting the full Rainbow and what a heart stopping, mind blowing fast ride it was.

Like sweet fire moving down it ran it’s course in her fangs, the excess racing over her tongue, down her throat to the finish line. It delivered a punch that inevitably put her lights out. Was it a coincidence Ric was the host at this party, or that he had his hands on the serene rainbow before the guest of honor got there? She knew better than to ask that. Fat chance. If she was in the position to place a bet she would put most of what she had on the fact that pigs were flying somewhere and hell effectively froze over.

All that was left to do was to chalk it up to luck. Maybe it came down to the fact she was protected as much as she was cursed by that universe size pride of hers and this time it saved her ***. She had plenty of time coming to think over. When something like this happened she generally would be feeling it for at least seventy-two hours...sometimes even longer. When she finally pulled out of it she would be thankful. Grateful indeed. She would happy dance her way to wrapping her fingers around him and squeezing him so tight that he would know she felt. Until then she was so high she could barely finish the thought. Or any other.

The fog in her head and governing her body meant she was in for a colossal hangover from h-e-double-toothpicks.The doped up part of her wanted to giggle at the visual of the two oddly floating toothpicks trailing but she realized she was disappearing faster than her mind could keep up. Physically she was on the move and she wasn’t alone. He was up to something and the confirmation came in the quickly shifting scents she couldn’t place as they were taking off from point A. It figures.Cubby was going to have some ‘splainin to do once she found the exit sign guiding her out of the chemical induced magic carpet ride they were taking. Seventy hours. He had all that to work with while she was at his mercy until she could get HOPE and LESS coordinated enough to wrap around his tasty neck.

Ric’s voice cracked through the fragmented visual she was left to rely on for clues as to where they could possibly be. Get up? Really? And who said Ric wasn’t a comedian? He was getting downright hilarious. She tried to channel one of her rose adorned feet to lift and greet his face but she wasn’t as lucky as she first thought. Both her right and left were about as useful as her hands. Her numb lips flapped in an attempt to warn him he was walking a fine line and the only thing that came out was cool air. She was more fucked up than she first thought. Then again so was he.

At first her face bounced against his chest but she gradually slipped down and with some sort of window through the fog she took a chance and parted her jaws wide to grab hold of what was rubbing against her lips and nose. Lucky for him she was petite enough her eyes were safely above his beltline since it was his choice how she was positioned and carried in. The material of his shirt tasted semi-clean. Imagine that. The draw back, which would be on Ric, was that the cotton didn’t provide the most reliable barrier to a set of petite but business as usual predator fangs. Her jaws locked down,piercing through the thin layer and found a generous portion of his cool flesh between her teeth.The joints at the back of her mouth fixed hard while her shoulders hung heavy at each side of her head. The sound of her own skin brushing at the firm shell of her ears was louder than she found comfortable. All she had to her for the moment was her teeth and her will which even small portions was not to be underestimated. Now if only she could figure out why her *** felt like it was on fire. That was never a good sign for several reasons perhaps Cubby never even counted on.

In an hour or two and HOPE and LESS would be jumping into the show. Three hours tops and all the fiery shadow’s systems would be back to firing. Unfortunately given the effects of the unplanned alcohol and drugs in her system she would be as unpredictable as the next four years the United States of America has to face. Over the next seventy-two hours all sorts of crazy and hell could break loose. Anything was possible and sometimes that should be enough to scare anyone sober. If only it could be sooner than later for Dominique.

[Roderic]

If I believed in luck, I'd probably be jumping up and down for joy. Metaphorically. No one does that-but if they did, they're idiots. I've never had the urge to jump in place in excitement over anything. It honestly hadn't even crossed my mind that Dom would get whatever was in Rainbow's system tonight, but it should have. I'd been in her shoes once before, but I was too busy ignoring or avoiding that entire situation and part of my life that I 'forgot.' But, it didn't take me long to put two and two together once she smacked the table face first.
It wasn't 'luck,' it was just a poorly executed plan.

The sudden, and sharp sensation of teeth in my stomach tells me Dom isn't fully out of things yet. Maybe this is as good as it will get. I chuckle and then slap her *** again, and give it a good, firm squeeze. "Dom, you know how to make me in the mood, but....You can play with it later, babe." I tell her, though I doubt she heard the entire sentence or understood it. I take a large step over some fallen branches that's in the doorway of what used to house hundreds, if not thousands of people at some point, and then shift Dom into a new position. The one where the guy carries the chick he just strapped himself to for 'as long as they both shall live,' but not because I'm a ******* romantic or a gentleman. I just don't want her getting the upper hand on me, and we both know she'll try.

These are the things I appreciate about the woman in my arms. Her fight. And if I was brutally honest, it gets me a little bothered when she touches me in any shape or form. Not that stupid 'drives me wild,' in a teen mindset. No, it's something a lot different. A lot darker. Had I met Dom a few years ago, where we are, who we are, would not be remotely close. I had an issue with people touching me, even in passing. Trying to hold my hand. A kiss. A bite. Hell. Even a slap on the back would send me into a sword slashing commotion. But, once I killed that loser of an ex-boyfriend my mom had last year, a lot of that seemed to go away. Go figure. Not that Dom knows anything about that, but it's a funny thing, how the mind works.

It's pretty much the same way as I remember it from the couple of other times I spent a day in here, hiding from the sun's rays when I decide to hunt as long as I can. I've only been on two floors, the main and the second, but I'm sure there's a basement somewhere. Not that I'm worried about that right now, or tonight. No, I've got the perfect place for Dominique.

I bypass the metal staircase to the second floor, and head past what seemed to be a place where people ate. Judging by the round tables and the few chairs that were left remaining. "You're going to love this, Dom. I've got a real special treat." I start to speak, acting as if she could hear me just fine. "I found this place about a year ago. I think it's been abandoned due to the old age; leaky ceiling, I'm sure there is asbestos in the walls, and it could never be modern. But, we don't really care about what's in the air, right? Not like we need it." I keep walking on the grey concrete flooring, moving past the chairs, and garbage left abandoned.

There are rooms off to the side, things I don't care about. The room I need is down another hall, near a couple rooms where no one can get in but the guys who once worked here. I don't remember which one, but as I make my way down the hall, my boots heavily stomping down on the ground, kicking past the human debris left behind, I see it to my right. Infirmary. I kick the door open with my right foot and look at all the toys and tools we've just walked into.

"Tonight's your lucky night, Dom. I hope this is what you wished for." Who am I kidding? I don't give a **** what she wished about, because this is my wish.

[Dominique]

As usual Ric had a way of summing it up what was going to happen next with as few words as possible. If it was a story playing out on the pages of some clearance paperback book it would be likely the selling point in the the couple hours invested spent reading it cover to cover and keeping it in the private library. There was a lesson to be learned in the size 10 palatino linotype. Tangible even- if one was to think it over long enough.

Everyone had at least one memory close to this so they would identify. Life was about these moments. Something that grabs the average and clueless by the lapels, out of their comfort zone where they were calling all the shots and thrusts them head over heels into a situation that leaves them no choice but to find out just what they were truly made of. The former paladin was no foreigner to this scenario. She attracted them like flies to a rosin coated strip dangling from an awning of a open air butcher shop. Which she sort of resembled as her arms swung with his movements like limp, lifeless colorful lengths in front of his body. When her bite proved ineffective and earned her another clap of his fiery palm on her *** she succumbed to the burn that seemed to be the one thing that connected her to what she otherwise felt a universe away from reaching.

Despite the condition Dominique was currently in the shadow that held her was pretty much right on the money if he wanted to place a bet on how it was going to turn out. The odds were high that she would agree with him when all was said and done. She had no issue with calling it like it is when the dust would finally settle. It just required a little sobering up and likely a whole lot of healing for it to get to that point. Especially given the current direction the evening for two was heading.

Some dodge the fire when it rises. Others will do everything to dance around a flying bullet before letting its hot truth sink flesh and bone deep. A few will even even go as far as to bite the hand that feeds them when the serving of humble pie is set down in front of them. The shadow with a serious adverse reaction to what she ingested was about to have a chance at all that and more and show what she was made of. They were both in for a few surprises neither planned on. So far it appeared Dominique was due to get hers first.

Nothing truly erases the physical clues of a place abandoned over time. Sometimes it can be simple as the bare physical ground where something once stood as a marker. Or it could be as vivid as the very dull vibration moving up her back from the weight of the soles of Ric’s heavy purposeful steps landing in a set rhythm on the cement beneath them as he moved. Fighting through the fog she did her best to absorb anything she could to orient herself to her surroundings. The presence of guano and urine stirred her nose into an unpleasant and uncoordinated twitch. Bats fluttered through her thoughts while Ric sounded as if he was babbling. Aged weather exposed industrial metal added a sharp edge to the stench she took in through her nose and lips. As old as it all seemed to be it was new to her.

The lengthy introduction to where they were was somewhat lost on her while her head throbbed and her toes were starting to tingle. She needed to be back on her feet. Her face brushed slowly back and forth at his stomach her eyes trying to do more than stay hidden behind their respective heavy as lead lids. The sounds of paper crunching beneath her bobbing head and the rustle of unseen debris sliding into walls rattles her focus and she groans out in frustration. She needs to have some sense of control and she alone needs to gain it. Ric wasn’t going to just hand it to her. Especially right now. Her intuition was lingering and was that chuckling she heard? Yes, it most certainly was. It was laughing at her own predicament.

The stretch of muscles in the upper thighs where her arms dangle are followed by the force energy exerted and the sound of a door being kicked open as a result. The veil of black long hair swung side to side as she tried to shake off what was holding her down. HOPE gripped to the material over the leg and tugged. Her right leg struggled to move beneath the hold but failed.

“Wish…”

The sound of her own voice was like a jolt of possibilities when it found her ears. LESS fixed an equal hold on the other pant leg and tightened down. If only her brain and body would come through with the movement of her inked hands tugging what was in their grip. Her head was swimming with the effort it required to do the simplest of tasks like holding on. So many wishes to be had and yet the best ones that came true were the very last that she would have ever asked for. The scent of him so raw and vivid against her face, blanketing her skin was a powerful reminder.

[Roderic]

She's still fighting me at every chance she gets. We get into the infirmary and just as I'm about to walk inside, she's grabbing at my pants. I don't believe she's checking out the muscles in my thighs. I know Dom better than that. She's trying to get me to either stop moving, or trip me up. The second would be stupid of her, but then again we don't care if we're bruised, bloody or walk away with broken bones. What counts is making it memorable-not always in a good way either. Hardly ever in a good way. I still remember our acid session and that was more than half a year ago. Never felt anything so painful in my life, but I sure did remember it.

“Now Dom.” I growl at her, as I lift my leg and almost push her hand away from my thigh before walking inside the room. My foot falls into a small puddle of water from the leaky ceiling above our heads, glad my boots are as durable as they are. I head over to the stationary gurney and drop Dom down on it. I tried for the middle as best as I could-nah, I really didn't, and heard the heavy thud and twang one of her appendages hitting the metal side. Maybe it was her head. **** if I knew.

There's only one strap left on this gurney, at the left arm area. It'll have to do. Something was better than nothing. “Lay back and relax, Dom.” I tell her, as I pat her shoulder. I move away, feeling pretty confident that she's going to remain where I put her and start rummaging through drawers. There's band-aids, and some gauze in the first drawer.

I know I've seen a couple of dull and rusted scalpels in one of these drawers. I pull a couple more open and rummage them, before finding the right drawer. “Here we are.” I say, a hint of glee in my voice. “Hey, Dom? Think vampires can get gangrene or tetanus?” I ask as I head back over to where she's laying. “Only one way to find out, yeah?” I whisper against her ear, before biting the top of her lobe roughly, then jam the rusted one into her shoulder without a single shred of remorse.