Under Georgia Rain (Lyonel)

[Demi Fae]

Location: Grayson, Georgia

“Personal space. I know my dad is paying you to be my shadow, but I don't think he meant to be on me. Literally.” Demi waved both her hands in a shooing fashion to the hired personal body guard/driver/anything her dad wanted him to be, before adding on, “Three feet rule.” A roll of her eyes accompanied that last thought, before she grabbed her dance bag from off the side of the dance room, then placed it on her left shoulder. Her feet found her heelless leather clogs beside the bag, before she padded out of the room, with Chester, right behind her. Obeying her wish of three feet to the dot.

“I need to go to the mall.” Demi informed him as she got into the back of her daddy's Lexus RX 350. The door closed after she stepped in, with no word from the late thirties something known as 'Chester,' until he got into the driver's seat. ”That's not on the plans for today. You're supposed to return home after class ends.” “Yes, but I need something for the performance-which opens this weekend.” He knew. Chester knew her schedule almost better than Demi did. ”Order it online. From home.” Was the final word on that, as the Suv pulled away from the curb in front of the dance school and headed south towards the freeway entrance.

This was the way of the women in the Fae family. Nothing was denied to them in regards to money, but any shred of independence was not tolerated from the family with old money. Women were meant to be kept and taken care of, but any talk of things like college, or driving were laughed at, and denied in pleasant terms. However, the men were expected to go to college and carry on the Fae last name and business. For her uncle's son's they were expected to be doctor's-just as their father. For her younger brother, he was already expecting to go to Georgetown like her father, and his, and even his, to become a lawyer. And as for the 'Faye's,' well, no one gave a damn what they did. In fact, talking about the 'Faye's' were prohibited and they were never allowed to speak. Not even at school. No matter how many decades passed-centuries, even...the bitter taste of family betrayal was just as gut wrenching as it had been then. And so, Demi's family was very small (when in truth, if they could just get over the issue, the Faye's and Fae's would be a very large family.) Not that the older members of the Fae family were innocent either. Maybe in that case back then, but in current times? Her father was a corrupt son-of-a-*****, who had all the 'right' friends, and even some of the 'wrong' ones too. Not that they were 'wrong,' but a man like her father who used blackmail and extortion more times than not couldn't always have a lot of friends that cared for his well-being or success. One day, her brother would come to learn about the things the family did; and would be faced with a choice. Continue on the path of their father, or pave a new foundation. And if he picked the latter of the two, the family would probably become more fractured; and the women-like her mother and Demi would be completely oblivious to what was going on around them.

The minute the Suv was parked on the open semi circular driveway, Demi grabbed her bag and stormed out of the car. She understood the way things were, but she didn't always eagerly accept the way of things done. A trip to the mall would have been half an hour at most, because Demi knew exactly what she wanted and where to get it from. “Daaaaaaaddy!” Demi called into the large house once the door was open, Chester at her five o'clock. There were two methods in which Demi could get what she wanted and usually she took the sweeter approach, but not today. And while she might not be able to go to the mall right now, he would cave eventually. If not from his own train of thought, then from her mother's.

[Lyonel]

“Saw you coming from a mile away. I knew it was only a matter of time before you would be back.”

It had been twenty minutes of non stop poor dialog that wasn’t fit for some cheesy late night local cable programming. Celadon eyes dropped down to glance at his silver Patek Philippe wrapped wrist which confirmed it. Something about the look on the man’s face was begging for Lyonel to make a move. If only the not so wise guy stood half as much of a chance of returning the favor it would be worth entertaining.

“You need to learn how to play the game, son. Down here we play hard ball.”

A brief stare down with the southern version of what a bad diet and poor stress management skills did to a middle aged man provided Lyonel very little competition and increasing boredom at best. Harlan Price would never change. The Grecian Formula dependent turkey was puffing his ego up with each line of advice that spilled from his whisker framed lips. It was quite apparent that Lyon was not looking to find the nearest chamber of commerce or a lecture. Yet the sound of the southern drawl continued to roll at him in the modest office. It offered up the increasing reminder that it had been quite a while since the killer had tasted the salty-sweet, cholesterol heavy blood that the south had to offer.

“I been at this longer than you been free from your momma’s apron strings, boy.” The telephone chirped once but was ignored as the body that would usually answer it postured to seem more important than it would really ever be. “You obviously have a piggy bank somewhere. I can make you more money than you have ever set eyes on. How about you bust it open and make an investment. I can teach you how to win big and fast or you can continue to sit on your *** and watch from the dugout. About time you left the Canadian wilderness and get down to business.”
“Harlan, you can’t afford to lose any more of that hot air you are releasing.” Lyonel called it like he saw it. “Your heart is crying for mercy. It's disgusting to see what you have done to yourself.” The throbbing bulge over the sweat shine of his left temple was betraying him. “You won’t live to see next week if you keep making noise.” Harlan was known to be thick headed when it suited him and a threat or two backed by a world of promise usually would set him back on course. “In fact tomorrow is looking grim if you don’t get to telling me why you aren’t paying your bills like you normally do. This is the second client we have in common who is sending me down here to see you.” A brief shift of his shoulders had the spans of the wide set settling. There was no question that he would get what he came for. He always did. “I get tired of excuses. This isn’t news to you. You have more of them than I can afford spending my time listening to. Names, Harlan. Who is interfering with your current payment plan?”
“You have no idea what you are stepping into.” A brash chuckle broke free from cheeks that reminded him of the legendary Dizzy Gillespie when a sudden cough choked off the sound of brief amusement.

Talk about a set of jowls. H.T. Price had more than enough and Lyonel was left to stare at how far they could actually inflate. A thick fingered hand balled up and tried to cover up the view of a set of front teeth still missing from their last encounter. Harlan tried to bite off more than he could chew and Lyon’s fist just happened to get in the way when he did.

“But, sure, I will tell ya. Be more than happy to give you directions on where to take care of business, son. It would be my pleasure.” The sound of the chair held down by the world on Harlan’s shoulders creaked as he leaned forward and folded his freckled adorned meathooks and set them down on the desk. “First things first. Let me give you a little history on the son of a ***** that has been bleeding me dry so you know exactly who you are dancing with. Hope you packed your finest shoes and your lucky charms. You are going to need them.”

[Demi Fae]

"Don't talk to me." Demi held up her right hand to block her view of Chester once she was outside the building. Her flip flops thudded against each step as she moved towards the awaiting SUV that was in the parking lot. There was a cool breath of air that wrapped around them, and kissed at her bare shoulders, before Demi pulled her hair free from the bun that was at the crown of her head. It offered some protection, but not enough. Her arms wrapped around her body as she sped up her pace, eager to get home.

She was well aware that her mother wouldn't be making her opening day routine. Demi's grandmother was sick and in the hospital. But what had been her father's excuse? Everything had been spot on that night and both her parents had missed it. Chester moved to open the backdoor of the dark colored SUV, while Demi lifted up the bottom of her ballet outfit, making sure not to crush the material,or damage the hard work. It was against the rules to wear the costume away from the production area or set, but Demi was hotter than a fried egg on concrete on a hot summer day in Georgia.

A bolt of light flashed across the sky in front of the vehicle as Demi buckled up. She didn't mind storms, it always brought cooler weather and this year had been warm so far. She would take a storm and the cool front that came along with it. "He had a meeting." Chester said as soon as he got inside the driver's seat and put his key in the ignition. "You don't listen very well." He didn't have to. Not really. Demi didn't pay him, her father did. Which meant that he was his man and Chester would listen to him, and defend the guy. Her face turned to the left to peer out the darkened windows, watching the lightening flicker throughout the skyline, as the first early, fat drops of rain fell upon the city. A storm was coming-in more than one way.

[Lyonel]

“We got nothing to discuss.”

Sometimes it paid to be the patient silent type. Lyonel found the duration of his trip over the Canadian border was fading quickly. Georgia wasn’t all that bad but if he was going to be hanging outside the comfort zone of Harper Rock then he could list at least five other places he would rather be than where he was currently sitting. Each that quickly came to mind were all about pleasure and nothing to do with the business at hand. Go figure.

The swirl of late silver rolling back and forth between his fingers reminded him that someone lost more than a few coins because of the southern businessman across the table from him. A few rounds of twenty one questions had Lyon winning the option to look behind door number one what he found was a bruised up peach of a guy that looked like he would be more comfortable in the boroughs of New York than he did behind the suit and tie that had twenty four hours of creases firmly setting in. It was a lengthy discussion but he had enough to go on that he could put the guy out of his misery if he felt it was necessary. Unfortunately that made things messy and really in the end it was too damn easy.

“So, you can head on back to where you came from and let whoever pays you to find out what is really none of your damn business that they will get their money when we get what we are due. Sounds like a winning plan to me.” The slip and slide of material moving over the quality leather beneath it didn’t trigger a response from the taller than average killer. “Need help finding the door just let me know.”
“How about we settle this nice and neat.” The door behind him opened and closed. Lyonel felt the coolness of the coin sink between two fingers as his hand closed to hold it tight. “Two million clears H.T. Price from any ties and what you do with him after the fact is up to you.”

The body behind him was hardly a threat but it didn’t mean he was comfortable with the heat of a human looming behind him. He knew they were still prone to getting all sorts of wild ideas about pulling some stupid moves. In his favor one bullet wasn’t going to kill him. Not even two come to think of it. He sat cool as can be where he had been. Time was ticking away but one thing was for sure and that was the fact that he was going to be paid even if his client was still empty handed. Lyon settled back like a man with all the options in the world. Of course he did. Compared to the two now in his company that had limited luck at making it out of the office alive he was golden.

[Demi Fae]

Demi didn't care at what point of the meeting her father was in with whoever by the time she arrived home. The stairs to the oversized estate for four occupants were ascended quietly as emotions ran high with Demi. "Miss Fae!" Chester called out the window of the SUV as he started to park it. No doubt a warning for her was about to spew from his set of lips, but Demi pretended as if she hadn't heard him.

The blonde haired dancer didn't take the usual detour to her room before greeting any of her family members. Instead, she entered the large threshold and moved down the left wing to where her father's meetings of any business nature were often held-if not in his office. If a person was invited to their family home to conduct business, that either said a lot, or a little. Her father was either more than willing to strike whatever deal he wanted or needed. Or the latter-he wanted to remind the person who he was dealing with by sporting off all the extravagance of his lifestyle. A sort of subtle threat technique-at least that was what she thought it to be. A technique with just a threat. That was not always the case.

Demi stopped outside the black wooden double doors, took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. Sometimes this helped, but not tonight. If she had the wrong hair piece, fine. If he had promised her something for her birthday and it didn't arrive until a day later, fine. But she busted her butt for the part she got (even as small as it had been), and he said he would be there on opening night. And he hadn't shown. Her eyes flew open as both hands found the french style knobs on each door before she barged in with a, "Daddy! We need to talk." Her eyes looked at the only person in the room she didn't know, her brown eyes all but glaring at him as she stood right in front of the large doorway, with arms across her beaded costume top. "Now. Please." Manners, she had them and needed to remind herself of them sometimes. Especially in these scenarios. "Sorry, we need to have a family meeting." She wasn't actually sorry, but it was the polite thing to say and she knew that much to the stranger doing business with her dad; and by default, her family.

[Lyonel]

Footsteps weighed in the dark recesses of his mind while he waited. Closer they came until he heard their brief pause at the doors behind him. Once again in motion he sized them up. Approximately a hundred pounds worth of warm female was coming up behind him. Perhaps a few extra was onboard the package to spare but certainly not enough to stress himself over. However, manners still in tact, he was inclined to rise up from his seat to full height. Adjusting his shoulders just enough that he felt the material over his shoulders caress his joints as they moved. Whoever it was seemed to be insistent on taking up her own issues with the man that still breathed freely on the opposite side of the desk.

Celadon orbs drifted just enough that they discovered a spirited dancer, or what appeared to be so, demanding her center stage. It certainly was a game changer in killer’s mind as soon he shifted his focus back to the one who the young female favored in features. His dismissal was rather unexpected but well timed. Lyonel nodded towards the one who would appear to be too young to be calling the end to any of her father’s business meetings. What a grievous error it was that a child could reveal a parent's ultimate weakness. The awareness was instant. She was in fact his blood. How tightly she was emotionally bound to him did not matter in the least. There was no question they were close enough that she could stomp in and halt his current dealings with ease. A display of power was present and the one who held it was standing at the door waiting for the anticipated results.

“I believe we can continue this later.” His wrist rolled enough that the pricy sparkle wrapped around it reminded him no amount of money could change the course of events heading her father’s way. Time was not on his side. Not anymore. “I will see myself out. I know how to reach you.”

Lyonel pocketed the coin in his hand and stepped around the female with a respectable distance. She had a fiery presence. Nothing that the one seated behind the desk could ever contend with let alone manage. His eyes dropped to the golden head as he stepped into the doorway. The costume reminded him of someone else equally spirited. What was it about these hell bent souls that were on fire and at war with the world that called to him? He wondered if that was his curse, his weakness identified. Breathtaking warm blooded birds of paradise that shifted into Phoenix’s to the sounds of Tchaikovsky, Adam, Copeland and Khachaturian to name a few. The dazzling shimmer of her dress reminded him he had a few calls to make, those he needed to check in on. Distance was always a threat at tarnishing what he took pride in keeping safe. Without another word his long, confident and business like stride carried him down the nearest hallway heading towards the main doors he was granted access earlier.

[Demi Fae]

Twenty-three steps from here to the front door. Twenty if someone was taller and had longer strides. Demi went with twenty, just to play it safe. "You promised! My first show!" She huffed, stomped then spun out of the room, leaving her dad too busy with documents to clean up and keep out of interested eyes to follow. Still, he had one thing to say that Demi didn't miss. "I'll be at the others. There's still ten others!" His voice boomed after Demi as she stormed out, not yet through with her tirade tonight.

It didn't matter if there were a million other shows that she was in for the next-however many years. She had learned at a young age that a promise was a promise, or that if a 'Fae' gave their word, they lived by said word, unlike the other side of the family they were estranged from. And while her father was to blame, so was the guy who had been here tonight in their home. What would have been one more night in the world of business?

"YOU!" Demi shouted after the guy who was about twelve steps in front of her, and almost out the door. She picked up her pace, the tutu bouncing as her feet thudded against the marble floor. She had her right finger in the air, indicating just what 'you' she was talking to, in case the guy turned around. "Excuse me, mister tall, dark, and inconsiderate." Demi spoke again as she found herself outside on the steps of the front entry, unaffected by the light drizzle that down spurted from above their heads. "I don't know who you are, and I frankly don't care, but since you helped my dad ruin my night, I think it's only fair that you help me ruin his." Two arms found their way across her chest and she took a defiant stance in regards to the stranger. "So, where are we going?"

[Lyonel]

S t o r m T r a c k e r

Lyonel kept a stride that was nearly impossible to break unless he felt like it. His fingers disappeared only long enough to retrieve the keys to the transportation he didn’t plan on leaving behind on the outside drive of the estate he was done with for the time being. The doors opened behind him that he had closed seconds before. He was being called out by the debtor’s daughter. Even that didn’t shake him to look back through the fine rain that cooled the evening air.

“A storm is coming.” His announcement was an understatement. “You planning on chasing it?”

The keys to what could fly from zero to sixty before a human could inhale waited for him to take control. The young woman who was making demands for his attention was oblivious to the business at hand and it was for the best. Even the slightest chance Daddy’s girl could be the southern king pin’s wild card didn’t stop him from hitting the keypad that would unlock the sleek door for easier access. He wasn’t concerned if she had a few heavy hands in tow. He had the reflexes to take the first bullet with ease. The killer would be on top of whatever took issue with him while his back was turned before they were stupid enough to try a second time. One on one, five against his left hand. She could join in if she was feeling inspired when the rest started dropping like flies. It didn’t make a difference she was in a dress or wearing a set of combat boots that she hiked on at the last minute before trailing him out of the door.

His reputation stood for being the last one the wise wanted to mess with on their best day. He didn’t need the powers that may be worth something back on his home ground of Harper Rock, Canada to settle his disputes. When it came down to it Lyon had a killer core that was capable of pulverizing the unseen challenger into several inches of unbroken ground with his bare hands if it ever went that far. It was a fact he rarely used the nifty abilities available to him on his usual turf. Even then he believed in the approach that proved far more effective than grunting and tossing around his muscle. A man with intellect and self-control could get by just fine. Lacking those two characteristics and coming at him meant the man who was nice as hell could and would get damn mean. She was asking for it. Who was he to tell the woman used to getting what she wanted that it was the last thing she needed.

“If you are up for it then get in.”

His celadon eyes caught her just as his right leg slid into the car and guided the unusual height of his body into folding down into the body hugging Aspid GT-21 Invictus driver seat. The engine came to life and the power beneath him gave him a small charge as he counted down the seconds she had left to jump in or get left behind. Lyon predicted that would ruin her father’s night more than it would his own. Racing off the grounds with an empty passenger seat was no different than he had arrived. The storm was heading north and he was riding it for all it was worth.

[Demi Fae]

He wasn't phased by Demi's ultimatums, it showed as he kept walking, leaving her in his dust in the doorway of her parent's home. Finally, the stranger acknowledged her as he made his way to his car and all Demi could do was take a glance back, listen to her father and his hired man in a heated discussion before footsteps came in her direction, before she grabbed her bag. Demi made no qualms about leaving, even taking the effort to let everyone in the house know as the door slammed shut, rattling a couple pictures off the wall closest to the door.

"Sweetie, spend more than an hour with the Fae's. Storms aren't anything new in this household." Demi said with a smile as she bounced down the stairs to the waiting car that was offered to her. She didn't know his name, but Demi didn't care. If her father trusted him enough to do some form of business with him, then she wasn't at all worried about her safety. It was just the principle of the entire thing.

It was easy for her to get in, given her petite frame. The woman stood no taller than five foot six, five foot eight in heels. Just as she closed the door, Chester made his appearance out the front door. A quick scan told him exactly where Demi was and as he bounded down the stairs, Demi laughed, pushed the tongue of her belt inside the buckle and then plopped the bag in her lap. "We should gooooo...." Demi suggested as her fingers moved to lock the door, Chester in hot pursuit of her.

They were off before he could even get close to the car, or the door to try and open it and Demi didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse about anything. Chester was paid well, and it was good for him to earn his keep sometimes. Either he would track them down eventually, or the guy in the driver's seat would return her once he was out of the moment of being her partner in crime. After a mile or so away from the house, Demi shifted her body a little to face the stranger and offered him her left hand. "I'm Demi, by the way." If they were going to spend any sort of length of time together, at the very least they could know the other's first name. 'Hey you,' or 'handsome stranger,' didn't sit well with everyone. Even if it was true.

[Lyonel]

With the silence broken and the introduction initiated Lyon had reason to glance over at the young woman that filled the passenger's seat with enough scent to leave the interior smelling less like the custom leather beneath each of them and more like Fiji. Tropical waters came to mind as the hint of subtle apple found its way into the mix with each word she said. With the casual offering of friendly contact she surrendered far more than she was aware of.

No sign of fear came from the tone of her voice or the stretch of those youthful fingers that wouldn’t know what a callus was let alone stood a prayer's chance in hell of any sort of closed quarters defense. Pampered they were, both the right and the left. All of that was thanks to the high end blend of coconut and kiwi butter that layered her skin from head to toe and cemented the genuine smile on her worry free face. Lab 31. It didn’t come cheap. A pretty penny filled her pores so that the impurities of the world around her couldn’t find their way in and leave wrinkles in her time. The high end beauty products elite chemists couldn’t prevent everything from leaving a mark on their loyal customers. Just like anything else there was an exception and Ms. Demi was completely unaware there she was sitting right next to it.

A killer. One lacking a pulse and owner of a several year appetite finely sustained on just what she held in copious amounts inside her healthy, pliable veins. While the fruit she had likely ingested less than an hour ago lined the inside of her stomach he was reminded that killers always had a way in. He took the petite hand in his cool grip and absorbed the heat it provided for the single shake he gave it. He wouldn’t bother with the verbal dance of dodge and excuse to get out of the contact that she was expecting. She was the one that hopped into his car not the other way around. She wanted a hint of what she was sharing space with who was he to deny her...or him the mild amusement it may or may not provide.

Demi, as she identified herself to be, seemed rather comfortable in the position she was in which could be attributed to many things. Any of which would be a guess on his part. Sitting in a strangers car could be considered bold and reckless. So could the fact that she counted on him to aid her at getting a rise out of her father for slighting her over whatever it was they had plans for that he brushed off for business. Humans really made it far more tempting the more oblivious they were about who they were trying to bait and hook. At least that is the picture that he was coming up with while taking a second to inspect the warm hand extended his direction that he effectively released.

“Lyon.” It was his name, well sort of. What else did she need to know about the one that was driving her north and closer to the deadly West? Nothing as far as he was concerned.“Hope you don’t have anywhere you need to be for a while. I have some unfinished business that I can’t exactly put off.” He delivered a nod to the bag in her possession. “Good thing you packed ahead of time.” His celadon orbs pulled eerily slow from her face towards the unpredictable storm they were racing towards. Any signs of lingering light faded as he increased the speed of the car.