AnK - Black Moon Rising

Black Moon Rising

By: ElegantPaws with all due deference to

Yoshihara Rieko

Edited by: Ainzfern

Key Pairing: Raoul/Katze

Rating: Mature

Parts: WIP – 24 of ?

Reviews are fuel.

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls;
the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
~~~
Kahlil Gibran

Chapter 24 of ? – Maelstrom (Post OVA)


Adjusting his suit coat for the last time, the broker looked about the room, his eyes intentionally avoiding the maelstrom of silken sheets as his face grew rigid and perfectly implacable. He would meet the Blondie downstairs. Raoul had one last check in with his Excellency, and Katze was glad of being spared the encounter. He had his own shit to deal with.

Elegant fingers passed through still damp hair from the impromptu shower. They had not spoken a word, both efficiently tending to their respective grooming needs, sharing only the emersion in liquid warmth and unusually gentle caresses.

In many ways Raoul Am was an enigma that Katze realized he would never really have the opportunity to know now. The lingering gentle kiss upon his lips as the Elite regarded him and adjusted his shirt with a speculative expression before turning abruptly and heading for the door.

It was better this way, Katze reassured himself, his palm resting briefly on his hip, skimming the skin warmed Com that rested there.

Donovan was spectacularly impatient today and obvious in his disapproval. Fear did that. It didn’t help that last call, a precursor of events to come. The Ruby and his entourage had arrived.

Another cursory glance around the room before a long exhalation and the interruptive quiet tapping bringing his attention to the partially opened door that led into the study, Deek was standing there with his coat, looking bemused and out of sorts.

“Sir Am wishes me to inform you he will be along shortly. It is his wish you entertain yourself until he arrives with the object in the library.”

Katze nodded, extending his hand for the long dark coat. Deek flinched at his swiftness and tried to relinquish his hold, dark eyes studying the shift in the mongrel’s demeanour and the less than deferential gaze being levelled at him.

No question, there was a smirk on those well curved lips as surprisingly strong fingers grasped his. The black market dealer had meant to exact fear in his movement and touch. He had not forgotten the incident, nor had he forgiven it.

“I owe you one, Deek. You jogged some memories with your little stunt.”

The Furniture shivered upon contact, though the mongrel did nothing but gaze at him as if from some great distance, studying every nuance of discomfort on the malleable, aged face with a clinical malevolence filled with promissory threat.

Exotically tilted amber sparkled with a chill akin to a winter’s sun, giving off no warmth with its predatory vibrancy. Long, agile fingers grasped the frail hand and smoothly glided down the withered wrist with a vice like grip, pulling the elderly male forward and into the dealer’s frigid aura.

“I always pay in kind.”

Deek almost stuttered, avoiding the dealer’s eyes.

“Do you require anything further while you wait? I have pressing tasks Mr....”

Katze chuckled, recognizing real fear in the vicious weakling. They were always vicious, the spineless who served; always seeking an opportune moment to strike, or exact vengeance upon their imagined foes, or those they mistakenly took as impotent.

“Katze, just call me, Katze, out loud that is.”

“Excuse me?” Deek managed to mumble with nervous indignation.

The dealer released the fragile wrist and extracted the coat from nerveless, gnarled fingers.

“You know, instead of mongrel filth or something along those lines. Consider it fortunate, Deek, we will never encounter each other in so intimate a setting again.”

He wasn’t worth it. The urge to snap that wrist, a passing fancy, he would leave him to Sir Niiro and his ilk, that was be punishment enough. Again, that hollow feeling as he remembered those words and his gut twisted that fraction more, revisiting the words on the glowing screen.

‘He’s here.’


A part of Katze had died then, but that was no one’s business but his own. It had been fun while it lasted, back to the comforts of place and cold surmise unfettered by desires wholly inappropriate for one such as he, schooled in the art of indifference.

In the end chattel did not have choice in outcomes, a lesson hard won in understanding and acceptance, something both he and Deek had in common.

~~~BMR~~~

The white light’s refraction through the window pane cast a beautiful kaleidoscope on the faux wood flooring, its shafts spectral blaze giving the appearance of warmth at his feet. Robed and relaxed, he shifted the curtain slightly betwixt long fingers, a smile playing about his lips while regarding the mongrel below standing vigil, moderately amused by the irony of the signage that cast the welcomed rays.

"Extreme pleasure governs life and death."

Absently he twirled a coil of hair the color of virulent crimson no longer bound in meditative thought, “If they only knew the half of it.”

One hour before the grand entrance. It would be spectacular, if he had anything to say about it and he did.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, wry smile still in place on his perfect, porcelain face.

Muted cinnamon with a hint of clove always heralded her entrance, such pleasing exotic notes of mouth watering fragrance for a being of steely disposition and candour that belied her appearance.

“Master, is this to your liking?”

Niiro turned toward the soft, well modulated voice with a half etched smile.

She was resplendent in gold and crimson and knew it. His lazy gaze caressed her form before returning to the window and the tall mongrel caught beneath the lamplight in silhouette.

He beckoned the comely female to his side with an outstretched arm and an impatient wave of fingers, coiling the sheaf of material that loosely hung as sleeves.

“Get to know him, befriend him if possible. Use his substantial ego to win favour. Females are rare in these parts, he will be enthralled.

Ajna’s eyes narrowed speculatively as she began tracing the appropriate memory, finally matching the face with her records.

“Guy; the current leader of Bison and former pairing partner of Riki the Dark, once Katze’s minion by auspices of your leader, Iason Mink, correct?”

“As always, my dear, note he acts as sentinel. Undoubtedly the dealer has been informed of our arrival.”

Ajna nodded dispassionately with a slight turn of chin as she regarded her Master’s regal and somewhat supercilious bearing. He was plotting. He was always plotting.

“You are toying with them still. Is that strictly fair? Katze responded to the summons, though it was not meant for him. I still question why Admon allowed this to occur. He had sufficient time for retrieval.”

The Ruby observed with growing amusement the fidget within the broad muscle mass of shoulders and the skittish twitch of long, lean limbs. Guy instinctively felt watched, though he knew not the source.

“Excellent instincts would you not say, Ajna?”

“I can see why Jupiter found them unsuitable. He is chaos personified, just like all his kind, ruled by their irrational side and wholly undisciplined.”

Sir Niiro raised a finger in warning.

“Aaaahhh but never forget they present a wealth of genetic material that still lies fallow. They are the possessors of a genome that if properly harnessed could be the pinnacle of all bipedal sentient life forms. A dormant gift from the First Ones not yet fully realized to its full potentiality.”

She sighed. “You mean they are self perpetuating? So are many other species, including my own. If they had worth Jupiter would not have culled them so selectively.”

“More than that, Ajna, so much more than that, it is why we are here.”

Ajna’s aquiline features remained impassive while studying the flawless profile of her Master.

“Is it strictly necessary for us to attend the Auction? Why not return to the labs and retrieve the necessary materials before interception?”

His voice was low and calm then, a rich deep register that held a hint of menace.

“Oh I don’t think so. I must see the progress. To be truthful, I am rather curious and there is the issue of Admon. He would be bereft if we came and went and did not at the very least acknowledge his lonely vigil.”

Her gaze travelled beyond the window, glazing slightly as the thrum of a familiar heartbeat and that ceaseless call returned.

“Should I answer him? He grows impatient.”

The Ruby waved a hand dismissively, his sight still intent on the tall, angular male below as he spoke with an abstract air, “Fascinating creatures, unaware of their true value to this day. Divide and conquer as they say, remains the most effective means of control.”

“Master, your meaning escapes me.”

He turned and regarded her anew as if unfamiliar with her presence beside him, his pale lips curving into an indulgent half smile. She was use to the frequent wanderings of his formidable mind, but never the indifference of his regard when asked a question. That smile always masked impatience with what he deemed the obvious.

“They continue to be used as fodder for Guardian’s experimentation whose sole purpose is to refine and refuel my brethren’s continued evolution.”

“DNA?”

Sir Niiro nodded slowly, shifting his gaze back to the intriguing being who now straddled his bike.

“It remains their primary reason for continued existence, though they are the inheritors of the lowest rung of society and rendered incapable of reproduction, but for a select few, who call themselves citizens, such a misnomer considering the cream of the crop lay in three strains as yet undetected.”

Ajna and her Master continued to study the attractive chestnut haired mongrel, openly fascinated by his quixotic movements. He had made a decision, pocketing his personal communication device and gunned his bike. They watched his departing shadow heading into the late afternoon away from the hotel towards Mistral.

“I sense deference in your manner towards these mongrels of Ceres.”

“Careful, my dear Ajna, you forget yourself and your purpose here. Spend some time with him. Observe him and report your findings.”

Undeterred by the quietly spoken rebuke, she continued.

“Altruism aside, the fact still remains, Master, the price of your supremacy is impotence. Your destiny remains inextricably bound to your maker, not the progenitor of your species.”

“Yes, this is true by defying the originating codes Jupiter perpetuated the species based on its own mega maniacal need for control, mirroring itself in humanoid form.”
Sir Niiro’s lips pursed, “Your point, Ajna?”

“Simply this, Master, servility is servility. Whether masked by intellect, physical prowess, or carefully inculcated morays designed to justify dominance of one variation of a species over another to serve spurious ends.”

“Quite true, we are inextricably bound to one another for continuity. A sin, a wholly flawed sentience will never forgive in its endless pursuit of perfection. This Amoi is the result.”

Turning slowly, the Ruby grasped her chin with ungloved fingers, examining her profile with paternal pride. “Unlike yourself and Admon the next step in our evolution, how apropos that the Chosen should prove its own demise, don’t you think? Even as we speak, all slowly unravels.”

Ruby eyes danced momentarily, as his fingers warmed her skin and she observed the distant gaze as his thoughts drifted to another. The image was sharper now of spun gold locks, feral green eyes and an expressive mouth with a surprisingly ready smile. He was thinking of Raoul Am.

“Stop it. We agreed.”

She lowered her lids, allowing him a false sense of privacy. “It cannot be helped, Master. I am of Karin and the outcome matters of this journey we take to your home world. Many are watching and if you are to succeed, I must remain vigilant until such time that you have retrieved the records and we make our escape.”

He passed the pad of his index finger over soft, velvety lips with a dispassionate air, pursing his lips in thought. “True, just mind the liberties you take in the recesses of my mind. Some things must remain private for this Elite, regardless of personal evolution and intent. We do not do well, when control is wrenched from our grasp. We are bred to it. Consider it a flaw.”

The kiss was dry, a mere brush of lips.

“He is mine. More than one of us needs to remember that fact. Do not intrude where you are not wanted.”

The air about them crackled with warning as a thin smile graced the Karinese’s lips and she took in the full measure of her creator, mentor, occasional lover and Master of years. “But does he, Master? You have not taken in account that he too might have evolved past youthful zeal and first passions unrequited in body and mind.”

Her cheek burned as she stumbled backward onto the chaise from the unanticipated blow.

“Get out. I must dress.”

Righting herself, Ajna stepped back toward the doorway with blank countenance. She bowed deeply with a satisfied smile, ruby eyes ablaze. She had struck a chord. “Of course...Master, I live to serve.”

Sir Niiro snarled at her retreating back, fixing her curvaceous form with a steely gaze.

“Yeeeeeees, you would do well to remember that in future.”

The door closed with a final click.

First she would find her twin Admon. He called as did the other, muted, selectively calm, but it called into empty space.

The Chosen, indeed, she thought observing the twin moons beyond the floor to ceiling windows of the main hall. They still held their secret intact, for now.

~~~BMR~~~


Cautiously Katze retrieved the metallic box, now safely placed in a carrying case. Raoul thought of everything.

He would open it again in the privacy of his office, perhaps with a little more care this time and after a good meal. Something was obviously off with its electronic circuitry to have given him that jolt. At least he had earned it fair and square and rather enjoyably.

With a twinge in his step, not of regret, Katze grinned somewhat lewdly as he walked down the quiet hallway towards the portrait, which still drew him like a magnet. The pull was impossibly strong, almost like a call. There was an answer there, but what the hell was the question?

He shook his head in mild distress, long fingers nervously feathering the damp auburn silk that covered his scarred cheek. This would be his last opportunity to gaze unobserved, perhaps it would finally come to him in the coils of crimson silk tresses that reminded him of the life giving helix, the stuff of life they all shared in their mutual DNA.

Okay so it was a bit of a slap in the face to regard the man who held Raoul’s heart, mind and probably soul but there was nothing for it. You take what you are given and make the best of it.

For a time he, Katze, had Raoul’s body and that would have to be enough. Not that it was exactly a hardship being fucked to blissful perdition by Raoul Am at any given time. Hell, he’d have done it anyway, despite initial protestations to the contrary.

Katze shuddered bodily in memory.

He would miss his lips. The son-of-a-bitch could kiss. He would miss that almost as much as the inherent pleasure of those long, tapered fingers and soft moist lips wandering sinfully over his body, exploring and memorizing every valley and peak of sweat dampened skin in an unspoken benediction in that last hour.

Katze sighed aloud. Raoul had been saying goodbye too, however subconsciously.

No regrets. It was done. They had gone as far as they ever could. Almost finding their own peace this day, perhaps even making love towards the end, if that was possible. That had been unexpected, this relinquishing of control and surrender to the ecstasy of communing with the Blondie’s flesh and the hallowed stillness that followed.

The weak smile of memory faded from his lips at the gut wrenching reminder of who Raoul was really kissing, loving, caressing in his mind’s eye. He’d been substitute, but the real deal was back and would be loved, not just fucked with aggressive abandon.

Katze squashing the niggling feelings of jealousy that began to creep into his gut. Yes, he had enjoyed. The redhead more than asked for Raoul’s attentions this day and he hadn’t been disappointed in the least. No point lying about it to himself. If nothing else, he had that.

It was simply time to let go of something that could never truly be his, except in the furthest reaches of his mind, just as when a young Furniture, taking furtive glances at all that beautiful spun gold and the scent of him, the distinct sound of his voice in laughter. Just a crush gone pretty damn wrong, he wasn’t Riki. No fuckin’ way would he allow this and now it had been taken out of his hands for good.

His throat tightened as he looked up into the perfect visage so deftly caught in brush stroke.

“All yours. Take very good care of him, Sir Niiro.” Katze bowed deeply to the portrait.

The salty tear that touched his lips as he whispered his secret request into the echoing sepulchral silence boomed in his ears. “Don’t hurt him is all I ask, he’s better than most of you.”

Katze bowed again to the portrait, missing the shadowed movement beyond the corner of his eye as he rose, feeling suddenly watched. The sudden loud intrusive bark of one pissed Raoul Am from the opposing end of the hall was reassuring though. He could not hear exactly, but it was obvious his Furniture was having a new one cut.

The dealer grinned maliciously and silently retraced his steps down the hall and back into the study where he should have been.

A superciliously arched brow and indifferent emerald green eyes greeted him.

“I do not appreciate being kept waiting while you wander about my residence critiquing my artwork.”

Katze eyes narrowed, but he lowered his head in obeisance. The vaguest of suspicions occurring but he kept his tongue and reached for his Com to inform Donovan of their imminent departure.

“I humbly apologize for keeping you waiting, Sir Am. Shall we go?”

Raoul stood behind his desk, momentarily caught off guard by the ready acquiescence of the feisty mongrel. No excuses. No penetrating gaze of defiance in those amber pools that strove to avoid his questioning regard.

A gloved finger pointed at his personal Com accusingly.

“Put that away. I’ve already informed your man, we are taking a Syndicate vehicle. I refuse to accommodate the stench of that thing at so close a proximity to my person.”

Katze bowed formally, glad of his sudden unexpected fortune; At least he would be allowed a private opportunity to regroup before acting as escort for what obviously promised to be a trying afternoon.

“Of course, Sir Am, whatever you deem appropriate.” Katze almost clicked his heels before attempting to turn for the study door. “I will meet you at the main gates and escort you from there through the underground security ring to the main chamber for final examinations.”

Katze kept his head low, awaiting the Blondie’s sure approval. None came. Furtively, the dealer raised his head without looking directly into the eyes of the male now standing in front of him, fastidiously bedecked in his formal regalia.

‘Fucking bastard is gorgeous and knows it!’

“What part of we, did you not comprehend, Katze of Ceres?” Raoul waved an impatient gloved hand, lifting the stubborn chin, so their eyes met. “You will be accompanying me, of course. If you remember correctly, it was Iason’s wish that you do so.”

The redhead nodded, averting his gaze as he squared his shoulders and subtly shifted, effectively removing the fingers beneath his chin. Raoul was too close for comfort, far too edible at this range. The dealer stepped back two respectful paces, inclining his head again towards the doorway with an elegant turn of wrist.

“Of course, after you, Sir Am.”

Raoul studied his stolid profile with pursed lips. “Need I remind you where you shall take eventual rest this night? I sense diffidence in the offing by your current demeanour and truthful, Katze, it is most tiresome in a chosen lover.”

The Blondie suppressed a grin, noting the abrupt shift and sudden appearance of sparkling amber levelling him, as per usual with a clinical expectancy. Here it comes, his opening gambit, such a predictable creature, but at least he held his gaze now.

“Sir Niiro has taken the entire second floor of suites for himself and his entourage at Apathia. It’s the talk of Midas this hour, Sir Am. One assumes your plans for the evening might have changed.”

The Blondie snorted dismissively, adjusting his cuffs.

“How typical, always has to make some manner of provocative statement. Undoubtedly he intends to be the beau of the ball this afternoon and will of course expect me to dance attendance, which of course protocol demands I do. It should be entirely too fascinating to watch him prance about putting everyone at sixes and sevens. If nothing else, he is always entertaining.”

The mongrel blinked but did not comment, instead selecting to follow, as was fitting, the broad expanse of shoulders and those mesmerizing long lean flanks out of the study.

‘He had to be doing this purposely. Even his freakin’ walk was alluring. BASTARD!’

Far too flippant a response; perhaps he had already known, hence the impromptu meeting with his Excellency, delaying their departure.

Katze’s face became set like an alabaster bust with pre-occupied thoughts. So much so, he found himself walking into a broad chest and blinked in confusion, as long gloved fingers feathered his bangs and emerald green eyes studied him with open amusement.

“Come now Katze, stop dwelling on the inevitable. It changes nothing of consequence in the end.”

“Yes, of course, Sir Am, excuse me.” The dealer almost jumped back from the Elite’s, somewhat flustered by the delicacy of touch.

Raoul demeanour shifted as he pinned Katze with a warning glare. There was really nothing to correct in the mongrel’s current manner, speech or bearing. The subtle distance employed in tone however would be corrected on the journey to Mistral.

‘Why oh why, had Nii-nii chosen this day to make his damned appearance, when such headway had been made?’

~~~BMR~~~

In no way scenic, the views beyond the bullet proof plexi held no interest for the broker, who had been this way before in more ways than one. Better to put the time of enforced proximity to good use.

Opening his coat, he reached in for the slim flat shielded external device linked with his terminal and handed it to the unusually quiet and somewhat pre-occupied Elite seated across from him, staring daggers at him beneath long golden lashes.

“I would appreciate your medical opinion on the current state of the chimera, Sir Am. It has taken no sustenance in the last day. Is this normal? Your med-techs seemed perplexed by its complete lack of evident sexual organs, considering what it is being purchased for. In this instance, Sir, I think we need real expertise. We can’t sell defective...”

Raoul dashed the device to the side. “I will not tolerate being ignored by means of banal chatter, Katze. Have you nothing to say of relevance?”

The dealer sighed aloud in resignation, resting his head against the plush headrest and massaging his now throbbing temples with slow semi-circles willing patience. Just this once, to pass an afternoon in the Elite’s company without incident, was that so much to ask?

“Please, Sir Am can’t we just do this without the drama?”

Raoul’s chin lifted as he glared through his silken fringe that despite repeated swats fell back over one eye disobediently.

Katze half smiled at the idiosyncratic and totally futile behaviour, catching the Elite’s raised hand, mid swat. “Stop already. You’re gonna put an eye out at this rate. It has a mind of its own, Raoul, accept it.”

More glaring, but what surprised the dealer was the fingers in question twinned with his and lowering to a well muscled thigh possessively.

The mongrel sighed studying their hands abstractedly, taking minor comfort from the growing warmth beneath the gloved palm that covered his.

“I’ve been sitting here trying to think of something to say to you that wouldn’t cause a fight, if you must know. You just want to fight today and I have no idea why, exactly. I’ve done everything you want and then some. You’ve been gunning for me all morning.”

Raoul’s mouth opened then closed forming a grim line as he released the mongrel’s fingers and looked out the smoked windows at the passing vista in silent annoyance.

Not like he didn’t expect the brat factor to kick in, regardless of what he did to appease the mercurial being. Raoul’s abrupt monosyllabic responses to repeated attempts at business-like discourse, was trying to say the least.

Everything he said, regardless of how scrupulously deferential his response, appeared to displease the Elite in some fundamental way.

“Just tell me straight out, Raoul, what I’ve done wrong now. I’m tired of doing, saying the wrong thing with you. I’m actually trying for some normalcy here, Sir Am. What do you want?”

A malicious grin overtook the patrician features before him, as jewel-toned eyes hooded. Katze exhaled expecting the worst.

“Well, be comforted by the fact that my current wants do not include you provocatively splayed over my groin, wantonly groaning and shouting obscenities with each upward thrust into that tight, delectable ...”

“Give me a fuckin’ break, Raoul! There’s no point in continuing this sick game we’ve got going.”

Seemingly unperturbed by the mongrel’s importunate bark intended to jar, Raoul’s appraisal drifted to Katze’s crotch with smug satisfaction, the loins never lied.

Waving a gloved digit as if conducting an unseen orchestra in the general vicinity of the mongrel’s burgeoning interest, Raoul snorted.

Katze crossed his legs uncomfortably, coloring slightly beneath the knowing gaze.

“However involuntary, you are in readiness at the prospect of coital fruition, though your words say otherwise, Katze. One wonders which aspect most appeals at this juncture, being taken or taking?”

“Try putting that mouth of yours to good use for a change, Sir Am.” Katze sighed, willing his bodily interest to subside with Herculean effort as he wrapped his outer coat more tightly about him. “Can we drop this?”

Raoul snickered. “Is that a promise, Katze of Ceres? Are you in desperate need of relief?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Katze chuckled ruefully. What the hell was the point?

“Raoul, let’s pretend to be businesslike. We both have a job to do today, Iason to please and I’m pretty sure at least one of us’ll get to live out that fantasy later tonight in the right arms.”

“Answer me this, Katze of Ceres, what became of the man that clung to me earlier?”

The question was so softly spoken that Katze wondered if he had heard correctly, particularly as the cool patrician face that studied him was somewhat distant and defensive in its regard.

“He knows his limitations, Sir Am. Maybe he accepts time has run out in this little fantasy. He knows when the crosshairs of a gun are levelled at him. The safety is off and the optical sights are set; no more options.”

“So he runs? I never imagined you to be spineless, Katze.”

“Maybe he’s made peace, Sir Am. Allow me that.”

Darkness overtook the interior space as the car lurched slightly and they entered the darkened interior tunnels on the automated conveyor.

They had arrived.

Katze reached out for the encased box across from him and felt large, gloved hands atop his.

“He’s trying to anyway, without any help from parties that shall remain nameless.”

Raoul studied the elegant profile of the mongrel, now closed to him, registering the deep tired sigh across from him.

“I’ve reached that limit with you, Sir Am. I can’t go any further without losing.”

“Losing what, Katze?”

The sleek body across from him slumped as the mongrel leaned forward with hands buried in what he knew to be soft, cool silk of an autumnal hue. It was incongruous the chuckle that escaped that elegant throat.

“I always knew you had a mean streak, Raoul but until now, I never thought you were actually cruel. Allow me to save face, just this once.”

“You are afraid of losing your edge, perhaps?” the Elite persisted, wanting, hoping against hope.

Katze needed closure to this useless conversation. It bore hallmarks of his recent conversation with Admon about the inevitable fall from grace. He felt the vehicle slow and the subtle shift of limbs across from him in anticipation. Searching for something to do with his hands, the dealer retrieved the mobile terminal just as the engine was cut with a quiet hum of finality.

The silence shared was eerie as the door was opened. He just wanted Raoul to alight, ending this.

“Naaahhh, no fear, I’ll never lose that, Sir Am. I’m bred to it. That’s easy. It’s the other shit that’s hard. Waaaaayyyy too complicated for this mongrel. I don’t do complicated, Sir Am.”

The dealer waved at the opened door where the chauffeur stood ramrod straight in shadow, “You first, Sir Am. The monitor needs to see you for identification purposes otherwise the drones optical sights will react in less than ten seconds.”

Raoul’s speculative gaze shifted, first to the open door beneath the garage’s confines and then back at the mongrel who was now busily tapping his Com, as if he hadn’t spoken.

“You are a thwarted race,” the Elite said snippily, suddenly irritated by the interruption of place and time and the cold air that caressed his face from without.

The dealer shrugged indifferently at the attempted slight. “Consider it a learnt response, Sir Am. Without it, my kind would not survive. Never bet against the House. They hold all the good cards.”

Gracefully the Elite alighted, righting his tunic, his eyes becoming dark accustomed instantly.

The hallway was long that led to the lifts. He could see shadowed movement and lasers cocked wearily in anticipation of a false move. Nothing he could not handle in a pinch. They were mongrels after all. His own men were here as well, their own pistols, unbeknownst to Katze’s men, levelled in the middle distance, prepared for a retaliatory strike, just in case.

“That presupposes all the cards dealt have not been duly cut and memorized ahead of time, Katze.”

They were cagy bastard, no doubt about it.

“Imagine that, you advocating cheating, Sir Am?”

Their footsteps echoed as one up the slowly inclining cemented path as shadows parted for both and they continued to follow the iridescent red beacon of light that lit the way in the darkness to the lift. They both stood motionless and silent for a time as they waited for the elevator that would take them to the labyrinthine depths of the compound housing the Pets.

“I’m dismayed, nay horrified at the concept.” Katze whispered mockingly glad of the darkness that would hide the wry smile upon his lips. He didn’t need to see the Blondie was bristling indignantly.

The dealer shivered as warm breath ghosted across his earlobe unexpectedly and hardened muscles adhered to the smooth curve of his back. A single digit’s tip tracing the line of his taut neck, proprietarily, as the lift doors opened and the Elite ushered the broker in with a slight motion of a broad palm against the small of the mongrel’s back.

“Only when necessary, Katze,” was the soft murmur, meant solely for the ear being nipped. “We don’t lose that which we deem important without a damn good fight, even when the ass in question selects not to understand, intentionally.”

The mongrel’s breath hitched at the implication of the Elite’s words.

“I never lose, Katze of Ceres, remember that.”

~~~BMR~~~

“Those two need to be locked in a room until they get it out of their systems, or one of them dies of exhaustion.”

Donovan nudged Guy conspiratorially as they regarded the private lift’s monitor, openly fascinated at how skilfully the Elite had backed the smaller male into the corner with a searing lip lock and practiced hands commenced roaming freely over the mongrel’s body.

“Hey, the Boss ain’t no slouch, either.” Guy offered as an aside, eyes glued to the monitor. “Got himself a fine piece of ass, I’d do him.”

“Whore!”

Guy snickered. “You should talk. If it moves, you’d fuck it.”

Both heads bent to the side, following the downward trajectory of bodies to the carpeted flooring with impressed whistles.

The bodyguard slammed the emergency brake, jarring the lift to an abrupt halt before pressing the Com’s audio and video link, increasing the volume for effect as he spoke in stentorian tones.

Guy backed up. He really didn’t need to be seen.

“You got about thirty second, Boss, before those doors open onto the show room floor.”

Donovan snorted at the startled, breathless males who had gotten to their respective feet within a millisecond. The guard did note however, only one was hurriedly attempting to adjust skewed clothing, while displaying a prominent finger directly into the camera’s lens.

He had to give the Elite credit. Sir Am hadn’t flinched, merely cocking a dismissive brow and shot his sleeves in annoyance.

“Open it now, Donovan.” Katze hissed menacingly. What had gotten into the man? “Don’t make me regret not blowing your brains out when I had the chance.”

“You sure?” Blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Donovan! I’m gonna kick your balls straight through your fuckin’ skull cap in about a second! Open this now!”

Guy snickered quietly as tears ran down his face and he backed away from the two way link up with a warning wave of Donovan’s lowered wrist, despite his pleasant expression.

“Who’s with you? I hear noise. Is it Guy!?”

Donovan did have a sense of humour, but it would be sure death if Katze were to realize he had observed the private moment too. The Boss had never much liked him for myriad reasons, beginning with Riki.

The guard shrugged lazily, ignoring the query. “Okay, Boss just thought you’d like a minute or two to do up your fly.”

Katze eyes became saucers as the doors opened and his expression was very much that of a marsupial caught in lamplight.

He had never been more thankful for the Elite’s greater size and speed as deflection. The smug twitch of lips, however, was not appreciated by the broker who glared up at his Blondie in warning, while the closure refused to budge.

“Do you require assistance, Katze? You appear to be having difficulties.” Raoul offered solicitously, smoothing a gloved hand down the mongrel’s thigh while blocking the view of the barman.

“No damn it!” The redhead hissed and began to struggle once more in earnest finding eventual success.

Deadly amber became opaque and flat with decision. After the immediate task of killing Donovan most painfully, he was going to murder Kato. These trousers had always been too tight.

“Wipe that fuckin’ self satisfied smile off your face while you’re at it!” Katze whisper shouted up at the male patiently regarding him. It would not do for anyone to notice his anomalous behaviour to his superior, particularly the barman who had been furtively gazing at the lift’s occupants.

Katze marched forward, forgetting protocol and headed for the revolving bar, leaving the snickering Elite in his wake while critically revising the order of his hit list.

Raoul would be first, after a good stiff drink.

~~~BMR~~~

So dismissive and calculating a response after six years of waiting in the futile hope of praise for a job well done.

None came, just the expected command to expedite retrieval before his arrival.

The Karinese uncoiled himself from the lotus position he had assumed in the back booth, away from prying eyes. The lack of noise and the tumult about the wide expansive room filled with specimens proved the only place of respite for communion with his sibling.

He felt that familiar presence now, walking imperiously down the hallway, peripherally inspecting tags with his med-techs respectfully offering rejoinders to queries about general health of one or other of the black market dealer’s acquisitions.

Raoul was definitely pre-occupied, a veritable maelstrom of cloaked emotions and a good deal of frustration with that singular redhead, the object of his need.

Just for a moment, a mischievous gleam set dark ruby eyes aglow. It was said, revenge was always best served cold, though few understood the phrase for what it meant when properly applied.

Patience had finally presented him with a twofold opportunity.

Distance and time was a very good thing in strategizing. One should never take umbrage readily, a common humanoid failing he had never fallen prey to.

Patience.

Above all else, patience was requisite. It afforded one the time to mull before striking with cool clinical precision when exacting revenge. The fact that at least one encounter would be enjoyable, just another fringe benefit of patience.

Quietly Admon retreated, observing and not for the first time, Raoul’s expression as he looked about the room; something about the Elite was definitely psychically inclined. He observed Raoul actually shaking his head, choosing to dismiss the thought of a fellow predator in his midst and moved towards the chimera’s blood red liquefied enclosure.

He had little time to retrieve the records which still sat in the back of the Chief of Medical Sciences’ Syndicate vehicle. That task must be performed first, then and only then, would he attend the quixotic mongrel currently burying his grief and confusion in several exotic liqueurs.

Far too many on a near empty stomach and a body that had recently undergone a minute genetic recall in the form of memory, it had begun. It was just a function of time now. He intended to accelerate the process and potentially winning favour at last for removing the one obstacle to his Master’s benighted affections.


Author’s Note

Yes, I rather long chapter but it is my sincere wish that you enjoyed reading it, as much as I did writing it. Continued blissful weekend, rainy or not, am actually working on the next chapter as we speak. Oh lord...you have no idea. Midsummer Night’s Dream indeed.

Let me know.

Namaste

EP