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Rion: **** the holidays.

**** the sparkling lights, **** the cheerful melodies.
**** the fat and perverted fucks that paraded as ‘santa claus.’
Most of all, **** the cold.
No, scratch that.
**** Every.

That ***** of a sibling knew exactly how to get under her skin. Even though she knew it hadn’t been a personal attack, she was certain that in the back of that mousy little ****’s mind, she had known exactly what she was doing. “I swear to all that is holy, I am going to rip her throat out.” The bitter words spewed from her lips as she thrusted her arms into her husband’s leather jacket, the sleeves far too long for her pixie like stature. It was the warmest thing she could find in her closet, mostly due to the fact that it hung to her knees and swallowed her whole. She needed a lot more than that to brace the venomous bite of the winter air, but she had to make due. It looks Mrs. Claus vomited all over the damned place. ****, she really hated the holidays.

Shaking her hair from the collar of the jacket, she pulled it tighter around her frame and squinted at the rather massive tree that had sent her mood plummeting. It took up most of the lobby, the lights nearly blinding her as they danced across the branches. The scent alone was enough to twist her stomach into knots. For a long moment, she contemplated the repercussions of dousing the entire thing in gasoline and lighting it on fire to add her own little touch of holiday cheer. Micah couldn’t be too pissed at her. After all, he had known from the moment he gave her a key to the hotel that she was a danger to it and everyone within it - but did she really want to touch the damned thing? “I wonder if this **** is contagious,” she muttered under her breath as she gave the tree a wide-berth on her way to the fadeportal. She knew that she was being too harsh on the woman who had clearly spent a good portion of her evening devising the best way to torture her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that had crept into her heart.

The holidays were ruined for her long ago.

Embracing the Grinch inside of her, she yanked a strand of tinsel off of the counter and made a makeshift noose before stepping into the portal. You know it’s not that bad. As soon as her subconscious piped up, her worn combat boots sank into the snow in the middle of Bullwood. It was if mother nature was even working against her. Shoving her hands through her sapphire hair, the necromancer quickly scanned her options as she calculated the best route to get her the **** away from Christmas and anyone that was stupid enough to give to catch the disease. It didn’t take her long to get her feet moving, the thought of becoming a corpse in the middle of the street driving her to action, she headed for the only place she knew she’d be safe.

The middle of ******* nowhere.

<Micah> He had decided to be a Scrooge this year. Not one single person was getting a gift from him. The only exception to that was Vel and he still hadn’t gotten around to purchasing what he wanted. There was time though. The shop in the Eyrie or in the hotel would provide him with what he needed. It was next to impossible to buy for Vel as she had everything that she could possibly ever want or need so his options were starting to become limited. Thankfully, there were still a few viable options and he planned to take advantage of those. Everyone else though….nope. Andras was going through a bit of a quiet spell, something that happened from time to time but Micah wasn’t feeling all that understanding this time. Maybe it was him. He knew that he’d changed but honestly felt that it was for the better. Others, however, might not see it that way.

It had started when he had come to the conclusion that he would have to step back from working at Masterpiece. His presence caused too much tension. The artists fought over the most trivial of things, they bickered like toddlers and it was bad for business no matter how hard the guys tried to old back their animosity. It didn’t make much sense to him. Bunny had been quite certain that when Micah was gone there was no fighting, no tension - nothing. The killer knew it was him. Something about him being around humans was bad for everyone involved and as much as it pained him, stepping back was the right thing to do. Once he had realized that, he found that he had grown just a little bit colder. If people didn’t like it they could surely get the **** over themselves.

Spying Vel moving about the tree Micah decided to make himself scarce and head over to the hotel to purchase what he needed to for Vel without her coming up and asking what he was doing. Stepping out of the portal the first thing he saw was the brightly lit tree sitting smack dab in the middle of the main area. His lip curled ever so slightly. Celebrating was the furthest thing from his mind. He just wasn’t in the mood for it this year and as much as the sight of it irritated him the killer moved past it without touching a single precisely hung ornament on his way to the shop. His sneer deepened when he caught sight of the shopkeep dressed in a festive sweater and matching Santa hat. For the love of everything unholy could this night get any worse?

Of course it could.

Rion: One hour.

One ******* miserable hour in the cold.
One ******* miserable hour listening to every Christmas Carol known to man.
****, I really hate the holidays.


It had taken her that amount of time to escape anything that remotely resembled Christmas. It had also taken that amount of time for her to become completely and hopelessly lost. The city buildings had morphed into trees, and those trees had become more dense with each step she took. By the time she realized she had traveled further than she should have, she had become completely shroud in darkness. The ground around her was untouched, the tall grass revealing that no one had neared this area in at least a month. If it wasn’t for the soft whistle of the birds, she would have figured herself to be virtually alone. Wrapping her arms around herself, she kicked her boot into the ground and frowned. She didn’t have many options, really. There was no way in hell she was toming back to the hotel. One look at that godforsaken tree and she was going to lose her ****. The only other option she could think of was to retrace her steps - but as she spun in a slow circle, she realized she hadn’t a ******* clue which way she had come from. “****.”

I could always call Micah.

The second the thought entered her mind, she tossed it to the side. She wasn’t the type to run to daddy every time she got in a scrape. Besides, he was far too caught up in his own ****. He thought no one noticed, but she did. She realized it the day it had happened. There had once been an ounce of warmth in his eyes, but the moment he returned from Masterpiece and had tossed the keys into the trash, she noticed it was gone. Instead of questioning him, however, she had simply reached into the bin and pocketed the keys while she let his wife handle it. In the days after, the change had become more solid. She had opted to stay out of his way - and there was no ******* way she was going to go back on that now. He needed to get his **** together.

“You’re on your own, buttercup,” she said sarcastically as she rubbed her hands together. The sun was going to rise soon, and she knew the longer that she stayed in the wilderness, the higher the risk to her safety. Twisting in a circle, she stepped towards the only break in the trees that she could see - and came to a quick and unsteady stop. Standing on a fallen log was a large reindeer, it’s head tilted and head bowed. “What the ****? Did you get separated from Santa, Rudolph?” It was the only name she could think of - and she wasn’t entirely sure why she was speaking to the creature. It wasn’t as if it was going to speak back anytime soon.

For a moment, they both stood still, until suddenly the creature pawed at the ground. That single movement changed everything. One second, she was standing in the middle of the clearing - and the next she was on her back with her blood staining the ground. “****!” The oath fell from her in a hissed growl as she pressed her hand to her chest - only to have it hit a hoof shaped hole. Before she had a chance to get back to her feet, the reindeer attacked again, its hoof slamming into the side of her temple, the impact rattling her brain around in her skull. Shaking her head in a feeble attempt to clear the stars dancing in front of her eyes, she held her hand out - only to notice the creature was galloping back into the shadows. “****, that did not just happen…”

<Micah> The festive shopkeeper was no longer feeling very festive but Micah was feeling rather proud of himself. As he had approached to sell his loot, a Santa with a motion sensor had sensed his movements and started to sing loudly and off key. Micah had glared at it, then shot it. The shopkeeper had started to protest. Obviously she was new and had no idea who he was or what he was capable of, so when he had turned his glare on her she had shut up and took a few wary steps back. The killer had proceeded to give her a verbal tongue lashing that she had surely never gotten before, reducing her to tears. Her festive sweater was torn and her hat sat askew on her head and she decided right then and there that there would be no more festive like actions and wardrobe choices from her. Yes, Micah was quite pleased.

**** the holidays.

**** festivities.

****. It. All.

He had a purpose for stopping by the hotel. He’d tossed his keys to Masterpiece in the trash in a fit of rage the night he’d made his decision. Stupid decision actually, as he’d need them to go in after hours and do paperwork. Sure there was another set of keys but Vel had them and he really wasn’t in the mood to explain to her what had happened to the originals. But when he looked the can was empty. Who the **** had emptied the trash?! It didn’t occur to him that it filled quickly, requiring a fresh bag at least every other day. All he could focus on was the obvious theft of a set of keys that he had at one point no longer wanted. No one could call him rational.

As he turned to unleash another round of verbal abuse at the more than likely innocent shopkeeper he was stopped in his tracks but that oh so familiar gnawing in the pit of his stomach. That one that had been both a blessing and a curse on several different occasions. Someone that he cared about was in trouble. A glance around the hotel told him who it wasn’t, and he knew for a fact that Vel was safe inside the Eyrie, so it was just going to be hit or miss until he figured it out. For the love of ****, couldn’t the little bastards stay out of trouble? Apparently not.


Rion: “What the **** is happening?”

Her voice was strained as she struggled to sit straight, the world seeming to fight against her. All she wanted was for it to stop spinning, and she curled her fingers into the dirt as if she could hold it in place. When that didn’t do a damned thing to help, the necromancer tossed a clump of grass across the field and fell onto her back once more. From the blood pouring into her eyes and the earth deciding it was the next best rollercoaster, she was stuck there. Reaching a hand out, she curled her pale fingers around the strap of her bag and pulled it towards her, careful to not disturb the flash of pink fuzz that peeked out from the partially opened zipper. He is going to kill me, she thought with a twinge of amusement as she dug through the front pocket for her cell.

She hated that she had to call him - ****, she wasn’t even sure who she was going to call. She doubted that her sire would enjoy anyone interrupting his holidays, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could handle her husband’s psychotic breakdown if he found her like this. He hated her leaving his side, hated her venturing out on her own - and it had only gotten worse since her capture. It didn’t matter that he and Micah had managed to find her, he refused to accept that she was able to live her life without something fucked up happening. It seems, though, that he was right. Seriously, who the **** knew reindeers were so volatile? With careful movements, she brought her phone to the front of her face and cringed when the light nearly blinded her. Her fingers shook as she held the device, but before she could send out a message, the battery died, leaving her staring at a black screen. “And so this horror film continues.”

Uncertain of how long she had been stagnant, she tried once again to sit up, this time making it to her knees before the world twisted and sent her onto all fours. Digging her knee into the snow, she bowed her head and held her breath as her stomach churned, bile burning the back of her throat. She knew that she needed a distraction, and so she quickly began to assess her wounds as if she were looking at a corpse brought to her morgue. Definite concussion. Possible crack in skull. Punctured lung. Damage to the chest cavity undetermined. Once she no longer felt the panic building in her chest, she moved unsteadily to her feet. Her hand caught the nearest tree before she fell back to her knees, the bark cutting into her skin. Her only hope was that someone would notice she was missing.

After all, if there was trouble brewing, it wasn’t a long shot to follow the source back to her.

<Micah> He’d shoved the shopkeeper out of his way as he hopped up on the counter. She’d forgotten her previous fear and started berating him for having his *** on her[/] counter. Even when he glared at her, she still kept on running at the mouth like she actually thought he was going to take anything she said to heart. The more he ignored her, the louder her voice had gotten until it was so shrill it made his ears hurt. So he’d put a hand over her face and shoved, as hard as he could. She went flying, losing her stupid ******* hat in the process, hitting the wall on the other side of the room. Blessed silence. Finally. And judging by the blood coming from her ears she was either dead or well on the way. Now that was festivity he could get behind.

“Now which one of you little fuckers have landed yourself in trouble, hmm?” He didn’t ask much. Keep your head down and your nose clean, and don’t stray into the wilderness. For the most part they listened but on the rare occasion the little bastards fucked up. It happened. No one was perfect but come on. It was the ******* holidays. Peace on earth and joy to the motherfucking world and all that useless rot. Going down the line he checked on each on that he knew was awake and wandering around somewhere. Mal, Eve, Helena, Nevaeh, Satine….all were fine so far. Then he got to Rion. “Seriously Ghoul? I think you live to make me ******* miserable.”

Rion was not fine. She was the one making him feel concern. He hated it. Out of all of his childer she was the most headstrong, the one most likely to not listen to his warnings just to prove a point. She was a ***** like that but he liked her all the same. But she was in trouble and it wasn’t out of character for her to be entirely too stubborn to reach out and ask for help. For a few minutes he considered just leaving her be but the longer he sat there the stronger that feeling got until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. But where was she? Only one way for him to find out so he gathered what he needed and perform the ritual to locate her. The location he got had him scowling. “You ******* know better Rion.”

The wilderness. What a lovely night it was for a stroll.

Rion: Pressing her hand to the tree, she ignored the bite of the bark as she dug her knee into the snow. “Get your **** together, Rion,” she snapped as she forced herself upright once again. It was ******* ridiculous, the **** she put herself in. She had just wanted a moment of peace and quiet away from the godawful decorations and the annoyance of her sister’s presence at every turn. It was like Every wasn’t getting enough attention, so she had to make sure that she put her mark on everything like a damned dog. It was infuriating, and it was sickening. She wanted nothing more than to put a bullet between her teeth, though she knew how her sire felt about in house fighting. And we all know she’d cry to daddy the first second she got, she thought bitterly as she leaned her weight against the tree. She wasn’t positive in how much time had actually passed, and she was beginning to feel as if every shadow housed a creature ready to have its turn at her. You can keep waiting, you ******* freaks.

Pushing off of the tree took far more strength than she had, yet she soon found a steady pace as she twisted through the trees in search of a path. Everything was too pristine - too white. It was if no creature dared to lurk this deep into the wilderness in fear of what secrets the darkness held. Clutching her useless phone in her hand, she hunched her shoulders against the wind and ducked her head, her blurry vision offering her no help as she searched for a sign of humanity. It was like looking into her soul - bleak and lifeless. She was quickly beginning to lose hope as she gripped another tree, her nails raking across the bark as she peeled a piece off and tossed it over her shoulder in a fit. “For fuckssake, I’ll make her pay for this,” she vowed, one hand rubbing over her face. As soon as she found her way back to the hotel, she was going to set fire to every goddamned holiday decoration she found.

Bracing herself for another round of Ghoul vs. Wild, she forced herself upright and brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. She opted to ignore the fact that blood caked the curl, and instead, focused on the task at hand - finding her way to civilization. Once home, she could worry about the crater in her skull. Once she was certain she was going to able to stand on her own two feet without the world tilting, she took a step forward - only to come to a sudden stop as a shadow loomed ahead of her. Narrowing her eyes, she reached to her hip for her gun, only to find her fingers brushing through air. ****. Before she had a chance to come up with another technique to save her ***, the shadow came closer and began to take on a familiar shape - one that made her blood run cold. “Well, ****, it took you long enough. You stop to take a picture on santa’s lap?”

<Micah> It was cold. Too ******* cold, and the last place he wanted to be was out in the ******* cold searching for a wayward childe who hadn’t listened to him. There was still time to turn around and in fact, he had considered that. More than once he found himself stopping in his tracks and starting to run on his heel, but then he’d get a wave of that stupid ******* emotion he was growing to loathe with every fiber of his being. “Damn you Rion. Why the **** did you have to go against everything I ******* taught you?” He was working himself into a right snit now, and it was growing with every step he took deeper into the wilderness. The killer never stopped to consider the possibility that Rion might not have done it on purpose. He’d have to get her side of the story but he wasn’t in the mood to listen to excuses from her.

She was close. He could sense that much and as he treked through the frozen wilderness the killer went over what he was going to say to her. Sympathy for her and the predicament she had found herself in wasn’t an option. Why didn’t she text, or use the tome he had given her for fucks sake? It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the means to get herself out of trouble so why hadn’t she used them? The sound of her voice had him halting his progress and he narrowed his eyes as she came into view. “**** you,” he sneered at her. “You’re just fuckin lucky I traipsed my *** out here to collect you. If that’s the kind of attitude you’re gonna have I can take my *** back to safety and leave you here to rot.”


Rion: “Well, isn’t someone in a mood tonight.”

The contempt in her voice was palpable as she forced herself to remain upright. It was taking all of her strength to not collapse at his feet as the pain drummed through her body. She could feel the darkness closing in, but she knew that she would never live it down if she were to succumb to it. Shaking her head, she pressed her fingers to her bloodied temple and forced a bitter smile to her lips. “What, did Santa put you on the naughty list this year?” Her voice moved in and out as she weakened, and still, she refused to cave in front of him. Even as she watched him blur and morph into two beings, she remained on her feet, her fingers steepled tightly to the side of her face.

“You can go **** yourself, Golem,” she continued, before taking a step towards him. She knew that no matter how much he growled and snarled, he wouldn’t leave her to the fate of the forest. The ice in his veins had nothing on the curse that kept bringing him to their aid. It was embedded in his bones, and she could tell by the fire in his eyes that he ******* hated every minute of it. It was the only bright thing to this entire ordeal - he was suffering just as much as she was. Without a word, she gripped his shirt as her world turned upside down, causing her knees to buckle. “****,” she gasped, the pain evident in her voice - showing just a moment of weakness. He was one of the two that could ever see it, to ever know that beneath her Ice Queen exterior lurked a small amount of humanity.

“Before you start ******* lecturing, I never meant to be here. I was trying to get the **** away from the Christmas vomit Every spewed all over the hotel.” Her words were harsh as she used her palm against his chest to straighten back up before dropping her touch all together. “My phone is dead and my tome is… well, I don’t ******* know where it is. I forgot to put it back in my bag when I grabbed your gift.” Feeling bile rise up the back of her throat, she turned her head to the side until it passed and flinched when she noticed the shadows beginning to move. “Look, can we get the **** out of here? I really don’t want Santa’s Reindeer to turn me into roadkill again.”

<Micah> “Ain’t I always?”

It was a stupid question. They both knew the answer was a resounding yes. The scorn dropped from her words and it caused his lips to twist in a bitter sort of smile. She hated that she needed him. She hated that she couldn’t continue to rely on her independance to get her out of sticky situations. And honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she hated him in general. It didn’t bother him. He’d sired her because she was a threat. She’d tried to one up him and he turned the tables on her, making sure that anything she tried to use against him would be evidence against herself. Rion had warned him that she was going to make his life hell, and in the year that they had spent as sire and childe she’d more than proved to be a thorn in his side on more than one occasion.

“If I was in your position I wouldn’t be telling the one person that came to save me to go **** themselves.” She ******* infuriated him and the pull to turn his *** around and leave her was so strong that he actually started to. Until he heard her curse and turned his head in time to see her stumble. That stupid ******* emotion churned in the pit of his stomach and he cursed it with everything he had. It was a blessing as much as it was a curse and if he left her there it would only nag at him until he treked back out there to find her. As he turned around he caught the flash of pain in her eye, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the glacial mask of her crack rendering her vulnerable. It didn’t suit her at all.

He looked down at her hand on his chest. The scent of her blood swirled around them and filled his senses. She was injured, he knew that and he didn’t have the patience for it. What kind of sire did that make him? He pushed his annoyance down. No matter how irritated he was he wasn’t going to leave her out there regardless of what he said but she wasn’t going to like his mode of transportation. “If it makes you feel better I think I killed the shopkeeper, and shot her stupid ******* Santa.” Maybe it would amuse her and make her forget the wounds for a bit. “Come on. I’ll carry you back. You ain’t in any condition to walk.” He wasn’t asking her permission, simply telling her how it was going to be.



Rion: It was as if she could see the wheels turning in his mind. Each twitch of his lip and narrowing of his eye spoke a story that he wasn’t revealing. If she were anyone else, she would have backed down and allowed his cold demeanor to frighten her - but she wasn’t. She wasn’t a weak little kitten that wanted to make him appreciate her. She didn’t give a **** if he liked her or not. She ******* hated that she felt as if she couldn’t live without him. She could hardly stand the man, and yet, the thought of anything happening to him made her nearly comatose. ******* curse, I swear to God, he did this **** to me on purpose. Shaking her head, she winced the second she felt the world shift beneath her feet. Every move was proving to be more painful than the last, and she was finding herself on the brink of passing out.

He would just love that.

Clenching her jaw, she narrowed her eyes on him as he continued on, his sarcastic wit meeting her match for match. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing you’re not in my position, isn’t it?” Pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, she took a breath of the cold air and held it in. Though her lungs were all but useless, the act of something so humane, so natural, eased her. “Besides, we both know you aren’t going anywhere. If you were, you would have turned the **** around the second you saw me,” she reminded him as she finally dropped her hand and lifted her gaze to his. The blue of her eyes had all but dulled out, and the fact that her words were more normal than sarcastic spoke volumes of the state she was in. In any other situation, she would have ripped him apart with her tongue alone for even thinking that she gave a damn about how she spoke.

I’ll just file it away for later.

With a quiet groan, she traced her tongue over her lower lip and tried to straighten, though the movement seemed to do something to her. The second her spine moved, a sharp pain burned through her nervous system and elicited a gasp from her chest. “******* holidays,” she sneered before spitting a mouthful of blood into the snow. “I bet she loved that.” The thought of her sister seeing the destroyed snowman seemed to fill her with a newfound strength, and she raised a brow. “You expect me to ******* crawl into your arms like a lost little child?” As soon as she said the words, she knew that she hadn’t much of a choice. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her hold on her bag and shook her head with a resigned sigh. “It’s a goddamned Christmas Miracle,” she muttered as she gripped his biceps and simply waited for him to lift her.

“At least I’m small enough to fit in a carry on bag. Shouldn’t be too much of a strain for you.”

<Micah> It was official. He detested her.

Ungrateful little *****. He could have spoken it out loud. Probably would have enjoyed watching her puff up in her race and start squawking in righteous indignity. But he didn’t. The killer had already heard enough of her sharp *** tongue and any more of it would probably just give him a headache. He thought Satine was bad. Rion was worse, something that he never thought possible. Her words filled him with an incredible anger and if she wasn’t already injured he’d give her a taste of the anger he was keeping in check.

“You are an abrasive *****,” he spoke in a low, cold tone. “Would it kill you for once to be appreciative? Or are you not capable of such an emotion?” Micah knew she was fucked up. Not just physically. Mentally. She would have to be considering everything. “Out of everyone, I think you’re the one that’s been gifted with the Bowstrong madness and I ******* hate you for it.” His sire Nick had been crazy at the end. The Bowstrong madness was something that Micah had dubbed Nick’s crazy and it was a trait that he honestly felt was passed down through the blood in his veins that he couldn’t cleanse himself of. “If you think for a second that I wouldn’t leave you out here for the fae to consume then you know nothing about me. The only reason I’m still here is because you’re making me feel emotions and I ******* hate it.” If she got to be a *****, then he sure as **** could be a complete prick.

“Trust me sweetheart, the thought of carrying you anywhere makes me just as sick as it makes you. I know I’m not your first choice in anything that you do but I’m all you ******* got until I deposit you with your husband.” As he picked her up and started back towards the hotel he fumed. Getting her to Osiris had him quickening his steps. He hated that she made him care about her, and he hated that she could get under his skin so easily. And what he hated the most was that she knew all of that and she used it against him at every turn.

******* holidays. They ******* sucked.


Rion:

“I’m only what you made me,” she spat, the words seeming to burn her tongue. How the **** dare he treat her like she wasn’t any better than the dirt he walked on? She didn’t ******* ask for this. Hatred, swift and hot, burned through her chest and melted away the agony his words had caused. She had never felt such intense loathing in her life, and she found herself trembling from the force of it. It curled into her veins and took control of her soul, igniting a fire that threatened to turn her to ash. Curling her fingers into fists at her side, she swept her cold glare over his form and sneered. “I mean, ******* look at you. What did you expect to happen? You’re the most miserable goddamned vampire that I have ever met, walking around like you have a steel ******* rod shoved up your ***.” Her tone chilled, the bite to it far more threatening than the wind that tossed her hair about her face.

In a single moment, he had turned into her enemy.
It killed her.
It awakened her.

“You knew from the moment that we met that I wasn’t going to take your ****. I’m not like the rest of your pathetic little brood. I don’t need your ******* approval to make it through the day, so I’m not going to beg at your feet like a kicked puppy for some table scraps of affection like they do.” There was no fear in her eyes as she glared at him, her head tipped back and chin jutted out in a stubborn defiance. She refused to back down to a man that hadn’t an inkling of what it was like to live inside of her head. Crossing her arms over her chest, she kept her stance true and proud as he leaned closer to her, his next words spat through his teeth with such disgust it made her laugh. The sound was anything but amused, and the twisted darkness to it seemed to bleed into the air between them. With a cold smile, she arched a brow and stepped closer, her short frame taking nothing away from the murderous glare in her eyes. “Honey, the only blood that I have in my veins is because of you. Everything I am today is because of you. That Bowstrong madness you spit like poison at me? You gave it to me. I was fucked up before you came along, but it was your blood - your influence that turned me into this. Take a look in the mirror, Micah Andras.”

Taking a step back, she prepared to turn on her heel and stagger her way home - only to find herself suddenly hoisted into his arms and held securely to his chest. The ******* nerve, she snarled to herself as she slammed her hand to his chest. He had years on her - but she had worked her *** off to find the strength she had. However, the wounds had weakened her, and as the adrenaline began to fade from her veins, she started to feel the effects again. Her vision swam as she gripped her bag, her hand carefully and quickly concealing the trinket that had been wrapped around the gag gifts neck. The thought that she had shown so much as a grain of emotion for the man that carried her sickened her, the hatred she felt for him burning away any and all admiration and respect she had once felt for the beast of a man.

Merry ******* Christmas.

<Micah> The gloves were off.

It was one thing for her to use her sharp tongue to insult him. He was a big boy, and he could handle her venom with ease and return it in kind. But she’d gone and insulted the entire family and that **** just wasn’t going to fly with him. He was sick of it. This had all started because of her mouth. The second she had caught sight of him her mouth had started running. Did he have to track her down and bail her out of trouble? No. He could have tried to ignore the feeling that someone was in danger once he’d figured out who it was. But she was his. She was his responsibility and so he’d gone out to find her. And what was he met with? A bitchy ***, ungrateful childe who seemed to think it was ok to constantly chip away at the wall he kept up to keep his rage in check.

He released her, staring down at her on the ground with a look of contempt and disinterest. “So, you can’t just stick to insulting me? You have to go and take your ******* problems out on the rest of them? What have they ever done to you, besides show me the respect that you refuse to give me? I never said this was going to be easy - in fact, I knew from the second I forced my blood down your throat I was in for hell. And you continue to prove me right at every turn. So if thats what you want then fine Rion Andras. You got it. No more trying to be nice. No more bailing you out.” His hands curled into fists at his sides and he actually considered striking her and started to raise his hand before he got the impulse under control.

“If I’m miserable it’s because you fuckers made me this way.” Months of pent up frustration over everyone and their issues exploded and found a target on the only available person. Rion. “Why can’t you take ******* responsibility for your part in this Rion? You can’t step up to the plate and accept that you treat me like a ******* tool because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? I don’t have a ******* clue how Osiris puts up with you. Do you treat him like **** too? In all honesty I don’t think I’m the miserable one here Rion.” His words dripped with scorn. She didn’t get to sit there, shoot her mouth off and come out smelling like a ******* rose. “I didn’t turn you into a miserable *****. You did that all on your own.”

He turned on his heel and left her there in the snow and at the mercy of the fae. Fuming the entire way back he pushed down that gnawing feeling clawing at him to listen and make sure she was alright. Pandemonium was up ahead and he stepped into the hidden elevator, punching the button for the ground. As soon as the doors opened he stormed out, spying Osiris almost at once. “She’s your ******* problem now,” he snarled. Concentrating on Rion he focused his power and summoned her. The second she appeared in the safety of the hotel, he threw a first aid kit at her and left through one of the portals.

**** her.