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 – 29 of ?


This chapter is dedicated to my muse’s brilliant acolytes in crime, A_ngua and Ainzfern. I truly could not write this without these two fine, discerning, like-minded duo at my back.

Reviews are fuel.


"Be extremely subtle, even to the point of formlessness. Be extremely mysterious, even to the point of soundlessness. Thereby you can be the director of the opponent's fate.”
~~~
Sun Tzu


Chapter 29 of ? – Soundlessness (Post OVA)


Murmurs of reproach followed the eight being escorted under armed guard from the penthouse. All turning in their wake, anxious to be the first to level suitably aggrieved looks at those foreigners who dared to besmirch the House of Mink.

Raoul’s penetrating gaze took in the angry stares. Collective duplicity was what he saw in the tilt of supercilious heads.

He knew damn well all secretly exulted in having witnessed the ignoble act of disrobing the Furniture for their prurient enjoyment. Not a one seeing fit to intervene; all so vindictively pleased at cornering and verbally dismembering the low born mongrel with derisive laughter and deprecating commentary.

No, they had chosen to egg the participants on. After all, few had ever actually seen a Furniture nude. This was just too delightful, the truncated misshapen flesh that remained of his manhood in full view.

Unjustly Raoul thought, Iason’s silent accusing fury had been directed at the naked shivering male whose robe lay in a puddle about his feet. Unaccountably Iason’s friend of years was discomforted by the sight, but kept his own counsel while dark emerald eyes memorized the faces of the perpetrators for later redress.

The jeering suppositions volunteered by those on the periphery of the crowded balcony had subsided markedly with the appearance of Sir Mink and his Second-in-Command. Nervous titters being quickly replaced by a hushed silent expectation.

No preamble was necessary. Raoul could see the menacing set of Iason’s countenance when an elegant, gloved digit was raised in wordless command.

The armed guards had little trouble quelling the drunken miscreants who were dragged from the residence in full view of the other party goers. Excitement over for the moment, idle minds and well clad bodies drifted back into the penthouse proper for the coming attraction, leaving only the two Blondies and a lone Ruby no longer clapping his enjoyment.

Laser like blue irises shone with preternatural light taking in the Ruby perched atop the balcony wall and the living object of his keen, methodical hate filled stare.

Raoul cleared his throat in warning, accepting the heat of the Ruby’s narrowed supercilious gaze.

“Be somewhere else, Niiro!” Iason spat softly, his voice echoing in the stillness.

Raoul had to credit Niiro for managing to switch emotional gears rapidly, lowering his eyes with feigned penitence in acknowledgment of his part in encouraging the unwanted spectacle.

He eased himself carefully from the wall, finishing what remained of his wine with a secretive smirk. The best part of the evening was over anyway. No point making a fuss.

Niiro strolled past the Furniture as if on an evening’s promenade at first ignoring the mongrel’s nude presence before abruptly stopping as though he had forgotten something. He looked at the crystal flute he held meditatively, a smile playing about his lips as he retraced his steps gracefully and placed the glass at Katze’s feet.

“One less to retrieve, my dear wronged creature.”

An empty amber stare drifted downward taking in the un-shattered stemware. “Thank you, Sir Niiro.”

The Ruby’s right eye twitched in anger. That had not been the requisite response. Too much pride, he would be beaten.

Raoul flinch involuntarily at Iason’s soft guttural hiss. Surely Sir Niiro heard it too and yet he turned malicious eyes to the body before him and clinically inspected the mongrel’s deformed genitalia, just to add insult to injury.

“Not a very good job at all. I simply must speak with Sakura, well below par, quite hideous. One should always take pride in their workmanship.”

Raoul heart clenched uncomfortably while drinking in the exquisitely proportioned form being reviled. That perfect face devoid of expression beneath the twin moons glow, seemingly uncaring at the cutting critique. Not even a blink.

Katze had gone elsewhere in that moment, denying Niiro the final cut as best he could. This was an Elite characteristic in fact, the ability to subvert intended slights with a subtle counter-attack, born of silence.

“Sir Niiro, please.” Raoul entreated softly in hopes of a reprieve for his intransigent friend but far too late.

Iason now loomed over the impudent Ruby with clenched fists.

“It is advisable that you never darken my doorstep with your unwanted presence again Sir Niiro. You have three days to remove yourself from my sight permanently. That small planetoid will do.”

Raoul was flummoxed but relieved. He would be allowed continued study, out of sight. Their secret safe from prying, ever present eyes, Iason was no fool, he mused regarding the Furniture.

Amazing, just standing there teeth chattering, his long elegant neck craned skyward towards the inky blackness of space like a perfect opalescent statue wrought of pure alabaster. Impossibly proud was this fragile being, such a waste.

This fortitude Raoul was witnessing was not a mongrel trait.

Iason’s rigid countenance spoke volumes as Niiro sauntered past with a protracted bow, riff with unspoken insolence, swirling his cloak over his shoulder for added effect. “Gentlemen, I bid you both good night.”

“On pain of death, Niiro,” Iason hissed between gritted teeth as the Ruby opened the balcony doors with head held high.

All in attendance turned their heads as if otherwise engaged, feigning interest in static conversations when Niiro passed heading for the main doors with due haste.

Raoul released his breath. “Unconscionable behaviour, I beg your indulgence, Iason.”

Iason’s silver mane swirled in threat as he turned to regard his friend, formerly repressed anger shone brightly in pale ice blue eyes now that they were alone.

“Take care of this,” he pointed in the direction of the mongrel while turning on his heels to re-enter the penthouse. “Use the dining entrance. There has been enough display for this night.”

The Blondie respectfully inclined his head in submission he did not at the moment feel. Quietly the doors clicked behind his leader and the blinds were closed by unseen hands, signalling the main event for the night.

Katze released his held breath as music began to play from within. The redolence of intoxicating incense accompanying the beat; a beat that emulated the primal thrum of the humanoid heart in excitation as cheers went up from within.

They were finally alone.

Raoul’s breath caught. Katze had finally moved, slowly lowering himself to retrieve the silken robe before slipping it over his shoulders with bowed head. His hands had been shaking.

Perhaps it was from the chill of the evening air, but it did not explain the sheen of moisture on the mongrels cheeks, roughly brushed away on a sleeve.

“Katze?”

“I am in need of nothing, Sir Am. Please return to the gathering. I am fine.”

He bent again gracefully, retrieving the discarded tray, carefully picking through the broken glass and placing the larger pieces on its surface in silence.

“Leave that,” Raoul murmured irritably, somewhat confused by the indifference of the stare being given to him in equal but veiled annoyance.

“With all due respect, Sir Am, I think not. He will blame me for this too. I’m fine.”

“Look here, I gave you an order. It is not your place to question that order. I demand you go to your quarters and seek repose. Another will attend to this, Katze. It is not expected of you to tend these menial tasks at the moment.”

He watched as the broad angular back stiffened. “It is mine to do. Please do not deny me this, Sir Am.”

The Blondie sighed aloud in frustration. “I will see you to your quarters. Leave it!”

“Why? As you can see, Sir Am, I am in no way physically harmed.”

Such an odd choice of words, Raoul thought, keenly aware of the nervous movements of the mongrel’s body as he picked up the last sharp piece of glass, cutting himself on the shard.

Not even a twitch. This was not normal. There should have been a reaction. It was a well documented fact that castrates avoided physical displays of any kind.

Yet this one was unmoved by the indignity thrust upon him. Silent endurance was not acceptable, it might have repercussions. Iason’s initial reaction had not helped. It only reinforced the behaviour he now witnessed.

“Might I ask where was this selective spine of yours when the dregs of some far flung uncivilized world lead you here with lascivious intent?”

The worm turned then as Katze rose to his full height and openly glared in defiance at the Blondie before once again shuttering his stare.

“Were you so lacking in foresight as not to see the inevitable result and how it might politically ill affect this household?!”

That penetrating stare caused a cold shiver to shatter the Elite’s uncharacteristic indignation.

“It is not my place to say no, Sir Am. You are most fortunate in not being acquainted with this. Now if you will excuse me, Sir I must see about changing and clearing this mess.”

Dismissal; Raoul Am felt dismissed by a mere Furniture of budding years, the utter gall!

“See here. Put that down this instant, Katze or you will rue the day you were born!”

Unexpectedly, a wry chuckle escaped parted lips. “Too late, I already do, Sir.”

Raoul noted the bleeding hand thought better of the question as the Furniture finally deigned to follow his initial orders and placed the shard filled tray on an adjoining table with an expectant yet blank expression.

“Is it deep?”

Perfectly arched auburn brows raised a fraction in quest. There was humour in the diverting stare, such light should not be quelled Raoul thought absently.

“The cut damn it! Is it deep?”

Katze studied the wounded fingers and shook his head indifferently.

“Just a knick, Sir Am.”

A long pause followed as both men studied one another, one furtively and the other somewhat boldly and with censure.

Pointing towards the sheer kitchen doors in a move that brooked no argument, Raoul sniffed.

Katze sighed and turned, giving up, careful this time to step past the twinkling shards upon the hard cool flooring. “Watch your step, Sir Am.”

“Never you mind, just go. I will be in shortly to dress the wound.”

The mongrel stopped mid stride. “I assure you...”

“You assure nothing. Just go!”

“Yes, Sir Am. As you wish, Sir Am,” Katze mumbled unconvincingly over his shoulder.

‘Impossible creative, far too much intransigence for one of his position.’

Raoul watched as the lithe shadow moved about the kitchen at first with precision, clearing
what had been left from the earlier catered feast.

Every now and then the body shivered involuntarily and the mask of indifference fled from his face as long fingers grasped the surface of the island in an effort to calm the mongrel’s breathing.

‘Post traumatic realization and acceptance. This was more like it, none of this stoic nonsense. They were not built for it. In fact, they were not built at all. They were merely a hodge-podge of poorly sequenced genes.’

He crept up beyond the shrubbery, feeling much like a villainous voyeur watching the deep inhalation and the current object that held the mongrel rapt attention again.

It was a blade, suited only to the cutting of meat. A rather sharp blade that Katze had set aside in the process of clearing the detritus of dinner back into the numerous catering boxes, left for the Furniture’s convenience.

Raoul thought nothing of it at first, more incensed with the mongrel’s defiance in not resting as ordered. Still, what gave great unease was the expression that held within it a strange peace, an unnatural peace riddled with resignation. The thinned lips spoke of a decision as did the precise walk towards his chambers, after giving the now immaculate kitchen one final benediction of professional pride; a job exceedingly well done.

Where and when instinct surfaced was most inconvenient, but it did for the Chief Medical Officer of Tanagura. Suspicion made him look to the island where the knife had been and saw nothing but the clear marbleized surface. The ream of processed white silk found in the airing cupboard had disappeared too.

It was impermeable to liquid.

And still the music thrummed uncaring while the Elite forced the latch, very aware that time was working against him as he breathed in torturous gasps, his nerves on fire. Iason would be useless for this. In fact, his blinding pride of place had caused this. Damn it to Jupiter, Raoul would not allow the obvious price even if he knew not why, but in that moment of certainty, he knew how.

‘Too late, I already do, Sir.’

Katze’s soft spoken words of irony rang in the Elite’s ears as he succeeded by brute force to shatter the glass. He stilled for a moment, listening for signs that he had been heard, but the loud hoots of the untutored throng watching the tiresome, repetitive exhibition of flesh and joining, masked his entry.

His graceful strides carried him through the dimly lit circuitous hallway that led to the quarters of the owned. The Furniture’s door was still ajar, just as it had been all those weeks ago. A habit he surmised. Their hearing was not the best, by Elite standards. Perhaps a habit learnt since Iason had a tendency to bellow when dissatisfied. It was always best to forestall such an outcome.

Holding his breath, Raoul observed the careful way the Furniture had inspected his bedding, then the closet containing the few understated raiment of his profession, then the antiquated escritoire that had once graced Iason’s library but lost favour.

Katze paused and went into the small adjoining room with the white silk material, carefully folded. The Blondie realized these were the servant’s conveniences by the sudden flow of water.

His brows furrowed when Katze returned empty handed noting the billowing steam that crept into the room when he returned to the writing table and chair, undoubtedly another cast off of the esteemed Iason Mink.

Actual parchment, probably stolen, the mongrel knew no bounds, was being pulled from the writing drawer. The Blondie shook his head fascination as the mongrel took up the stylus and painstakingly wrote with focussed concentration whilst soft music played. A pleasing melody, again another curiosity, Karinese of decent of suspect audio quality entered the neat ordered space.

The mood of the being was clear though in the sharp upward strokes and the harshness of the signature, three times the sizes of the body script, a final attempt at impotent censure, perhaps?

How pretentious an act for one such as he? Raoul acknowledged the great care with which he formed the individual letters. His sight was exceptional, but from this distance, the words were indistinguishable and at the moment irrelevant. He had to be sure of his suspicions, so for now, the Elite chose to simply observe.

Studying his missive, Katze sighed and looked about the room a final time and returned to the bathroom, closing the door.

Like a dagger to the heart, Raoul knew. No more waiting. No more supposition on intent, Raoul entered the mongrel’s bedroom and carefully closed the door behind him.

~~~BMR~~~


He closed the lid of the little box and studied its extremities – platinum, a metal once greatly coveted by those on the world of origin. It has ceased to have value, once its metallurgy properties were made commonplace and only used for machinery. Like gold, it did not tarnish, but unlike its softer compatriot, it was durable.

The inscription of itself was very much like the larger edition that Admon now had in his care.

Raoul’s lips pursed. That is what he had been after all along, as was Katze for that matter but were their reasons similar? It appeared the mongrel not only had a predilection for antiquity, but was searching for something in particular. Was this the reason for his return, now that the coveted item had been found?

The Elite’s brows furrowed. Niiro had hidden something here in plain sight, a missing piece to the ancient jigsaw of life as they knew it? What he could surmise for sure was that Admon had been sent to retrieve it.

A gentle tap came to the mongrel’s chamber door. “Dinner is served, Sir Am, if you will follow me?”

The Blondie desperately wanted to glower or be incensed. How and when did the blasted little servant get him to agree to stay still was unclear. Raoul’s stomach gurgled embarrassingly. He could easily have gone home but, well, this was too intriguing and he still wanted to see the look on the mongrel’s face when he returned to find his victim ready and able to retaliate.

He followed the decrepit elder up two flights of stairs in his socked feet. There was no point being dressed and a robe of deepest aquamarine had been recently purchased for just such an occasion. Oh the pleasure of the moment upon its sight. A work of art and as juvenile as it was to compare, infinitely more costly and rare of weave than the overdone exotica that Katze had planned to gift that android with.

Raoul tried it if for no other reason than to add another weapon for his verbal arsenal of biting accusations when the unsuspecting wretch returned seeking rest. There would be none this night. Oh no. The Blondie intended to flay the redhead alive with vituperations and then possibly break something on his person, if the mood struck. He nodded to himself, pleased with the agenda for the evening. Sex was not an option under the circumstances. Not without contrition on the dealer’s part.

“We are here,” the elderly servant breathlessly opening the creaking doors that led unto the roof top ushering in the soft starlit inky blackness of night.

Raoul looked up into the sky thoroughly unimpressed by the sight, still clutching the box, secreted in the folds of his new and favoured robe.

“Here where? The roof? Hardly a prepossessing view, Kato. It is black as pitch out here but for the twin moons ever present glow.”


“It is my hope it will grow on you, Sir Am. Mr. Katze says simple pleasures are the most gratifying to the senses.” Kato regard remained hooded as he smiled apologetically. “Of course, opulence has its place too, to be sure, Sir Am.”

“Be careful Kato. I can hear what is left of your aging brain ticking over. You win no favours with that little addendum.”

It smelt vaguely of the mongrel’s preferred cologne, Amber Lust. The Elite wondered in passing if the wraithlike man had tried it, so evident was his scent. Raoul felt unaccountably cosseted by the thought.

Man? Odd, he had never really considered him as man. Definitely male of course and without a doubt a mongrel, sometimes even Katze of Ceres when feeling beneficent, but never actually as a man, an equal.

The Elite’s pale brows arched at the conundrum while patiently following the bent male up the final few stairs and onto the gravelly surface where a table beckoned.

Caught off guard by the sight of an elegantly arranged dinner setting for one including a candelabra that cast a soft inviting glow on the simply perfect white and gold arrangement of utensils, stemware and sundry.

“Mr. Katze’s favourite place to dine, when time permits, you are safe here, Sir Am. There are guards on the adjoining roves ensuring both privacy and security.

“What?”

Kato sighed and bowed a fraction with an impish smile. “You requested a repast. I have provided one. Forgive me, Sir Am but I thought you might enjoy partaking of one of his guilty pleasures. Here you can examine the box at your leisure, perhaps surmise its secrets fully and why Admon covets it so?”

“Or Katze for that matter, you still haven’t answered me as to why you took to grovelling from a simple trick of artifice.”

“Was it artifice, Sir Am? What I saw reminded me of the code, an ancient legend of my kind.”

Raoul narrowed his eyes and looked about him. Yes, in the darkness there were shadows, eight, possible ten men with lasers trained. He really couldn’t bother at the moment. Minor, idle whispers amongst his brethren had been repeated about this legend.

Nothing worth thinking about, only Niiro had taken it seriously for a time. Hmmm was Iason even aware of this use of his largesse for the dealer’s peccadilloes? Then again, Katze had done sufficiently well to carry these costs on his own.

Long silken strands of gold waved indolently on the wind as the Elite padded softly to the chair and stood by it with supercilious lift of brow. Kato hurried forward before being stopped by a raised impatient hand.

“Oh never mind. Nothing recommends these surroundings, but I am famished,” Raoul waved dismissively in a sudden fit of pique. This all felt so hollow without companionship for the meal, “and leave the chair to me, Kato. Jupiter only knows you might rupture something in pulling it out.”

The elderly man beamed gratefully at the tall, imposing male. “Thank you, Sir Am. Now, may I serve? I rarely get to indulge with one who might appreciate my poor efforts.”

Raoul cut his eye and stared about him with marked dissatisfaction.

“I can well imagine. Food and that mongrel are not fast company.”

Such silence and yet the air was pleasant and soft, the sounds below of life distant but for the tinkling of chimes. Chimes?

Discerning ears picked up the sound in the middle distance and followed it, unable to detect its exact location, maddening thing, but pleasing nonetheless. His thoughts drifted following its melodic cadences as warm fragrant delicacies were first revealed to his approving eyes then dished out by the idiotically joyful servant.

“Kato, where is that sound coming from?”

“We don’t know, Sir Am, it is a wonder.”

Raoul chewed meditatively whilst the little man hovered looking pleased with each mouthful ingested, finally someone to enjoy his efforts.

“There is no need for this wonder. It is a simple enough task to map and measure the trajectory even for the half witted.”

Kato smiled indulgently at the Blondie – most irritating but remarkably excellent teeth for a mongrel of advancing years. Katze obviously spoilt his servants no end.

“Mr Katze loves a good mystery, Sir Am. It is how he keeps his agile, inquisitive mind entertained. He loves conjecture and puzzles.”

Raoul tapped his glass feigning disinterest. “Nosey more like. That scar of his should have cured him permanent of such fruitless endeavours.”

“Might I share a secret with you, Sir Am, if it is not too impertinent?”

Raoul tried to look bored as he sipped the surprisingly good vintage and noted for the first time the all encompassing welcoming darkness and the brightness of starlight that joined the silvery twins above. The Elite felt at peace. Was it the scent of the robe or the simply prepared and most excellent fare? No, it was surprisingly pleasant company of one without a detectable agenda other than to protect his own Master from the Blondie’s inevitable retribution.

“Go on. You will anyway. However does Katze, monosyllabic at the best of times, put up with your constant blathering?”

Kato continued as if the Blondie hadn’t spoken. “I hope he never finds it, Sir Am?”

“Meaning?”

“If he ever discovered the source a part of him would die. He has so few whimsical indulgences, Sir Am. When he comes up here and picks at his food and ponders, he actually smiles as he imagines its form.”

Kato’s wrinkled face softened markedly as he poured.

“In truth the real prize, Sir Am, is the anticipation of hearing its soft cadences on the evening breeze. On the nights he is missing, he gets a haunted looks as he looks towards...well. I have spoken too much. It is a companion of sorts.”

“Nonsensical. Simply nonsensical, it is a damn chime of inferior metal.”

Kato bowed and eyed the empty plate with satisfaction, ignoring the sharp retort.

“It is not the only reason he comes up here, Sir Am. The view can sometimes be spectacularly beautiful once your eyes are dark accustomed to more than the obvious... Sir Am. Sometimes logic and intellect serve as barriers to the truth that lies in our heart of hearts.”

Emerald eyes glowed menacingly at the decrepit male, who continued to smile inanely. Two beats, exactly two beats.

“I shall leave you to examine the box at leisure, Sir Am, with your kind permission of course?”

The damned feigned reverence in that statement bow. Raoul inclined his head.

“If you need anything at all, do please ring,” the manservant pointed to the thin black com atop the table. “I must ready the daily accounts for Mr. Katze’s imminent return since Donovan is not about to do so.”

Raoul huffed. “Good riddance. See about changing the bedding. I prefer a more muted shade of...”

“Green, Sir Am.” Kato interjected. “Mr. Katze has already informed me of his honoured guest’s preferences.”

The man servant chuckled softly. “He enjoys pleasing you, though he will never admit it aloud. Afraid it could be perceived as weakness. You, Sir Am, have triumphed where no other has and many have tried.”

The Elite sniffed indignantly. How many, exactly was many? Such forwardness would never be permissible in his household. Not the anticipated response but it did beg a curious question that caused the Blondie’s heart to flutter with vague hope.

“Not that it matters one iota but why do you think?”

Kato’s cocked his head in genuine surprise.

“Forgive me, Sir Am, but I would think that obvious by now.”

Not waiting for a reply, the little man scuttled away shaking his head.

The tall, elegant male bedecked in fine silks was left a mere shadow of his former self as dark emerald eyes oddly contemplative stared at the distant golden towers of Eos in direct line of sight.

Katze was in love with him.

~~~BMR~~~


“Why have you chosen to return now, before your task was done?”

Sir Niiro sighed aloud and held the malevolent gaze of his leader with studied calm as he crossed his legs.

Steepling his fingers, Sir Niiro purse generous lips and gathered his thoughts. “It is self-evident why, your Excellency. Something of mine has found its way here, by curious routes thanks to that interfering, overly inquisitive minion of yours. I need it.”

Steely blue eyes were mere pinpoints of light in that perfect face, one silver brow arching in challenge. “Self-evident to whom, Sir Niiro, you try my patience? Out with it, of what are you accusing the dealer?”

Katze shifted his gaze to Admon, who had closed his eyes determinedly.

“Do you really wish to discuss this here, your Excellency, amongst this flotsam? You underestimate that one in particular. Too clever by half.” the Ruby waved an ungloved hand in the general vicinity of the dealer. “I have nothing to lose, except life and I have found that rather tediously repetitive of late. You on the other hand have infinitely more at stake, Sir Mink as the favoured son of the Almighty itself. Whatever would Jupiter think of youthful conjecture made manifest?”

The hairs on the back of the dealer’s neck stood on end as he furtively looked through thick lashes at his patron. No detectable movement. Not good. All nerve and sinew at attention, too much attention as both Elites waged a silent pitched battle of wills.

Sir Niiro took a deep breath. “I hardly think...”

“Yeeeeeeees a recurring theme with you, Niiro, cease the prevarications and accompany me to the penthouse. The sooner you leave with this item, the better.”

Iason turned a cold speculative gaze to the dealer. “By the way, Katze, where is Sir Am? I thought I impressed upon you that he would oversee the day’s events in lieu of my presence, considering?”

Katze coughed apologetically, eyes level with the floor. “He was indisposed and has returned to Eos Tower.”

‘Fuck. Iason wasn’t buying it.’

“Really? Fancy that. He seemed to have taken an odd choice of routes to the main gates if you ask me,” Sir Niiro responded helpfully, picking at imagined lint from his trousers before darkened yellow eyes locked with the dealer.

A malicious chuckle escaped the Ruby’s lips, enjoying the obvious discomfiture etched on the dealer’s face with his words. This was delightful watching the blood drain from his somewhat puffy face.

“The last time I saw your Second in Co., your Excellency, he was leaping ramparts anxious to be reunited with his bit of mongrel fluff. You see your little adjutant there had an impromptu tryst with my Admon, if you can believe.”

A palpable silence followed the weighty statement causing Donovan a split second of inattentive shock. His grip upon Admon’s twin relaxing sufficiently for her to finally retaliate as she took long, well muscled legs and flipped him from her body with a heavy thud. She retrieved her weapon with ease, but not without the unified sound of safeties being released.

“Let him up!” Katze whispered menacingly.

Sir Niiro waved absently. “Do as the little mongrel says, Ajna. He actually wants you to resist the command. I have put far too much work into your creation to lose you for the price of vengeance.”

The Karinese extended her palm to the Bodyguard with a malevolent grin. Donovan slapped the hand away.

“Bitch.”

Flat amber eyes returned to that of the livid mongrel.

“Was it too his liking, Katze I wonder? Some of us take great delight in watching as you know.”

Katze gritted his teeth in anger, understanding the reference as he holstered his gun.

“Katze? Is this true?” came the flat query.

The dealer lit another cigarette, stalling for time as the door opened and Guy walked in un-announced with tankard in hand.

“What the fuck is goin’ on in here...oh shit...”

‘Kill me now, Jupiter,’ the mongrel prayed. That inevitable fall from grace had finally occurred.

~~~BMR~~~


It was providence that held back the rebuke on the tip of the Elite’s waspish tongue.

Coming face to face with the nude mongrel standing atop the white silk sheet had not been planned, nor the knife Katze held lovingly against the flat of his well muscled abdomen while hard, flat citrine eyes wet with unshed tears harshly critiquing the naked form in front of the full length mirror.

Raoul’s eyes darted to where soft auburn down graced formerly flawless skin to where the mutilated flesh of the mongrel’s flaccid member lay. Sakura was a butcher. Sir Niiro had been right.

The Elite quickly averted his gaze not wishing the mongrel to see his revulsion. The Elite would later reflect upon the sickened feelings at the sight and the unfocussed anger he felt towards his brother Elite for the unnecessary barbarity.

“It was your choice, Furniture, never forget that.”

Katze visibly stiffened at the sound of Sir Am’s voice. The grip on the knife’s hilt became determined.

“Please leave, Sir Am.”

“Do not shrink from the position you hold in the most esteemed household of Amoi. Few of your kind are so privileged, Katze. Many would happily to take your place. Remember this.”

Katze snorted.

Those pale citrine eyes regarded the Blondie’s towering reflection blankly for a moment as tears welled anew and rolled down porcelain cheeks.

The Furniture’s voice rasped softly as he smoothed long, elegant fingers over what remained of his sex.

“They are welcome to it, Sir Am. Even a mongrel has a right to a modicum of pride. Even the lowest of the low in the slums of Ceres has the illusion of dignity.”

Stealthily the Elite crept forward, careful not to jar the sensibilities of the emotionally fragile mongrel.

“And illusion is all it is, Katze. Now hand me the knife. This has gone on long enough.”

Katze shook his head.

“Begging your pardon, Sir Am, you are wrong. This privilege robbed me of the right to retaliate tonight. My self-imposed deformity brought me no protection for the jeering crowd of onlookers and I could not refuse, though I suspected what would come. In Ceres, as mongrel, I could have fought back and taken a few of them with me.”

Raoul extended his palm, brooking no argument. He did not much care for where this conversation was headed.

“Hand me the knife, Katze, you grow subjectively maudlin. This unfortunate incident will no longer be spoken of. Be assured the culprits will receive their due for defaming and disrupting the household Mink.”

A wry smile came to the mongrel’s face. “No, Sir Am. I respectfully decline to accommodate your wishes. It is Sir Iason’s right to defend his honour and just this once it is mine to do the same for myself.”

“By offing, yourself?”

It was easy enough to wrestle the lithe body to the ground with the minimum of force and retrieve the damn thing and so, Raoul did, exacting a swift slap across the mongrel’s face for good measure.

Katze clasped his face and began to cry in earnest.

“Stop that or I will get Iason!” Raoul pointed accusingly in no way comforted by the sight of the male on bended knee wallowing.

He backed away, turning from the open display of emotion in uncharacteristic embarrassment, only turning when the sobs began to subside.

“Finished?”

Raoul’s eyes searched about the little room, eventually landing on the bathrobe he had seen the mongrel in previously and retrieved it on one finger, casually tossing it atop the brilliant mane.

“Put that on immediately, most unseemly to be displaying yourself as Furniture.”

Wiping his face roughly, the teen did as he was told and slowly rose to his feet with bowed head, awaiting the next order.

Pointing towards the bedroom and refusing to fall for the sudden quiescence, Raoul glared down at the lithe being. “Get in bed. I will be through momentarily with a sedative.”

Curious amber eyes furtively glanced up at the Elite with trepidation. “Yes, Sir Am.”

~~~BMR~~~


Kato hovered uncomfortably at the office door clasping and unclasping gnarled hands while watching the Elite fiddling in obvious boredom with the monitors, before throwing the controls and flopping ungracefully on the couch.

“Go.”

He heard the sudden intake of nervous breath. “If you dare to offer me warm milk again, a most disgusting, tasteless liquid I might add, Katze will be short one doddering servant. GO!”

Leaving Sir Am in the Black Market dealer’s office unattended was worrisome. “Perhaps I can show you a book, something diverting to occupy your time, while you wait, Sir Am?”

The emphatic retort did not bode well. “Go. I wish to think.”

“Of course, Sir Am. I was just...”

“Well stop it!” Raoul snapped irascibly, he still had the box. A few well placed questions to Nii Nii and this mystery would be solved, but what of the legend and were they truly related?

Warm breath ghosted across Raoul’s cheek and a set of dark brown eyes peered at him beseechingly interrupting his thoughts.

“I beg of you not to touch anything, Sir Am. He is very particular. There are also security concerns, even for the man he loves.”

Raoul blinked. “I beg your pardon. Leave now and I might reconsider breaking your wizened neck, the very idea, indeed. You do overstep!”

It was not fear he saw in the mongrel’s eyes but actual regret as he bowed deferentially. “My humble apologies, his asks of me are so few, Sir Am. It is my duty to protect his residence in his absence, even from one he intrinsically trusts.”

The elderly mongrel’s honest response, tempered the Elite’s tongue.

“Where is the reading matter?”

Kato brightened visibly, glad of the reprieve, moving surprisingly rapidly to the far wall behind the bank of monitors, where he tapped the controls and the wall slide away, revealing a respectable assortment to large, shocked, verdant eyes.

Raoul slowly rose from the couch and padded over to the well ordered shelves from floor to ceiling, eyes never leaving the small but respectable collection which had a common theme of history and science.

“You may go, Kato. I have everything I need.”

A slow secretive smile graced the manservant’s face. He had done well. “I will put out the last of the Allurian brandy. We do not expect another shipment for months, but under the circumstances, I do believe Mr. Katze would approve. Good night, Sir Am.”

The Elite never answered as he fingered the volumes. All the First One’s original hand written logs were here, badly mauled by time and museum worthy to be sure. Katze had a secret. It would explain the search with which the scar he carried branded him.

“How did he acquire these, Kato? Answer me that before you leave.”

The servant’s breath hitched as he schooled his wording.

“They are our sacred books, Sir Am. Passed down generation after generation by what is left of the original tribe of the Abyss. He is the keeper of the flame that is the First One, herself, in more ways than one.”

Raoul nodded slowly, all becoming clear. “He will never thank you for this revelation, Kato, but I do. You may leave. Your trust has been well placed.”

The legend of origin was real and Niiro knew.

~~~BMR~~~


“What the hell are you doing up here?!” Katze angrily hissed, stilling the chestnut-haired mongrel’s progress into the room. “Get back to your post.”

Self consciously Guy’s hackles rose upon seeing the towering Blondie behind the dealer. Bison’s leader squared his shoulders meeting the malevolent ice blue gaze that spoke of unfinished business.

‘Snotty fucker.’

Sucking his teeth, Bison’s leader turned taking in the full complement of guards flanking the supreme Elite and Karinese, the female was intense. Something was definitely up. He wanted in.

“Sure, Boss. No worries. The shindig downstairs is breaking up. Figured Donovan might like to know so he could do the final head count for the sold inventory.

Guys narrowed eyes drifted towards Donovan’s stony stare. Yeah, he knew he’d fucked up...again, but what of it? Things were way more interesting up here instead of drinking himself to death in boredom.

“Guess I’ll head back down, since I’m obviously not wanted.”

“On the contrary, Guy. Your timing is impeccable. You will remain.” Iason commanded.

Gray eyes flashed indignantly, refusing to acknowledge the Blondie. “Boss, still want me to go? You pay my wages.”

Such a simple sentence but loaded Katze knew. As near as Guy could manage, he intended to defy the Elite’s ultimate authority without directly appearing to do so.

“And I pay his.”

Donovan’s shifted, flexing long powerful arms reflexively, willing Guy to look directly at him as he carefully moved forward to close the door. Guy shivered as Donovan’s warm breath tickling his ear with a soft whisper. “Shut it, Guy.”

“Excellent advice, I recommend you take it, Guy. You don’t wish a repeat performance, especially as that arm looks to be new.”

Guy snarled, but felt Donovan’s vice like grip on his shoulder. “Eaaassy. You asked for that.”

Niiro’s eyes darted back and forth with mischievous glee. First the dealer who stood on tenterhooks awaiting his own former Master’s verdict and now the bodyguard, taking up a defensive position, simply too delightful.

“Where were we before being so rudely interrupted by the rabble, Sir Mink?”

Iason had yet to look away from Guy. Not good, Katze thought. The loathing had not abated though he had long won the prize, the hurt still remained. He’d need to break Iason’s focus and bring it back to him.

“Yes. It’s true, your Excellency.”

It worked. The Blondie’s gaze slowly shifted to the dealer, inspecting him from head to toe and then doing the same to Admon, whose ruby eyes were suddenly open and glowing with vacuous innocence.

‘Damn. He was good.’

Iason’s regard of him had been superficial at best Katze knew. He saw merely a decorative creature of no real threat to the organization. The dealer knew better, far better than his patron. That malicious, covetous bastard of a Ruby had stayed his verbal execution for the moment and was thoroughly amused by sudden turn of events.

“Irrelevant. It still does not explain, Sir Am’s absence and he has not returned so try again, Katze. Where is he?”

Some things never changed, Katze realized. Sir Niiro lived for dissention.

The dealer sighed audibly, “Probably at the club, Sir Mink.”

Harsh though the perfect countenance remained, the eyes softened with a hint of understanding.

“Waiting for his pound of flesh, no doubt, Katze, I did warn him but to no avail.”

Guy shifted nervously in place. “Yeah...you’d know.”

That swirling silver white streak a mere blur to the naked eye stilled in its movements as Guy was held aloft and slowly brought down to eye level, pinned to the door’s frame. “You know how this always ends, don’t you Guy?”

Katze was always faster than not. Donovan had come to expect this, as the seemingly frail being pushed him aside, away from Iason’s imminent wrath. “Leave it, Donovan. He walked into this one. It’s long overdue.” Katze pleaded, losing the battle containing the superior muscular might of his minder.

Oh the thrill of it. The visceral charge of victim to hand, Guy a mere whisper from a most uncomfortable death slowly being asphyxiated by his hand.

‘Make a different choice this time, Iason. Remember what you almost lost and why. The Irrational One isn’t worth it.’

Guy flopped to the floor, choking, grasping his own neck as Donovan rushed to him. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill your ass!”

Guy continued to cough and rasp, taking Donovan’s proffered hand that lifted him to his feet. Catching his breath and carefully moving away from the obviously confused Elite winked at the livid guard. “Ahhh Wrong, Donny Boy. I think it’s my turn.”

Iason stood stock still with his back turned, unable to ignore the leaden weight that still circled his confused mind. He heard Sir Niiro laughing maliciously. “Well done, Admon, very well done. You’ve been practicing, my dear.”

Katze did wonder briefly why the android did not look as pleased as he thought he would, finally having received praise. Instead, those ruby orbs studied the supreme Elite who had turned accusing cold blue eyes upon the Ruby in barely suppressed horror.

The Ruby beamed at him with paternal pride.

The dealer noted the subtle body language exchanged as both Ajna and Admon flanked the Ruby protectively.

They were the work. They were the fucking code, everything Jupiter feared.

“Isn’t he simply marvellous, your Excellency? Imagine the joint power of both, once they are both finished of course.”

Iason continued to blink, still somewhat stupefied. It had been a mere parlour game, an indolent supposition posed one afternoon post study, nothing more and Sir Niiro had done it. The proof stood before him in the twins.

Admon had entered his mind effortlessly and imposed his will. Only one other was capable of it and then only to a point. The difference was the Karinese more than understood the dark spaces that the sentient AI did not and could traverse it to his private emotional space. The question was, what more could he do?

“We should go, Sir Niiro. Leave them to it.” Iason paused to stare Admon down, feeling well satisfied as the Karinese dutifully bowed.

Sir Niiro rose languidly and adjusted his cloak. “So sad really and just when I was beginning to enjoy all these raw bursts of adrenalin.”

Katze found his lips curling ruefully, as Admon coquettishly averted his gaze with mock obeisance.

‘He was good alright and obviously biding his time. Sir Niiro was for it and didn’t even realize.’

“I’ll expect a detailed report in the morning, Katze. Do inform Sir Am his attendance is mandatory.”

Katze bowed deeply glad to see the back of his broad shouldered patron and his retinue one of which turned pale citrine eyes and glared.

The dealer smirked knowingly. “Anything you wish me to convey on your behalf, Sir Niiro? I’ll be seeing him shortly.”

There was nothing more gratifying than that impotent snarl. Katze visibly slumped as the door was slammed in his face.

Guy chuckled. “Nice one, Boss. He had it coming.”

Katze raised a single digit warning his minder not to speak. Guy had grown unaccountably reticent, stepping back now that they were pretty much alone but for the other guards.

“I’m heading back to the club. Take care of things here.”

“Any last words, Boss?”

Flat amber eyes studied the bodyguard’s stoic expression, as pale lips curved into a half smile and the dealer gave the minder the most profane of salutes with his middle finger.

“Twist.”

Guy snorted under his breath and flopped on the nearest bank of seats avoiding two sets of irritated eyes.


~~~BMR~~~

Raoul watched as Katze drank from the glass as commanded and coughed at the bitter after taste.

“Right, now take your rest. A new day will bring with it a new perspective.”

“No, it won’t, Sir Am but I thank you.” Katze yawned as a pleasant lassitude entered his frame and he stretched out atop the bedding.

“Cover yourself.”

Heavy eyes in need of sleep opened a fraction. “I am not cold, Sir Am.”

“Your body temperature will drop several degrees during slumber. Do not question me, mongrel. Cover yourself.”

He had fight as was evidenced by the rough way he handled the cover throwing it across his lower extremities with thinned lips.

‘Amusingly wilful little creature.’

Raoul sat tentatively at the edge of the bed with furrowed brows.

Why was his likeness so much like that of the First One? A most disconcerting anomaly and the reason Sir Niiro had chosen him as a form of jest. He never did get a proper answer from his colleague as to his findings other than that they were apparently unrelated. Could Niiro have been lying? It merited further investigation if time permitted and Jupiter agreed. Perhaps the newly discovered samples could provide an unequivocal answer. Those previously used had been damaged during the experimental phase of retrieval, or so Sir Niiro had said.

“Sir Am?”

“Yes, what is it, Katze?” Raoul said tiredly, rising to his full height. He needed to be away from this creature.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being kind, Sir Am, just being kind,” murmured the mongrel, half asleep as his face smoothed in preparation for sleep.

Raoul stood vigil a few minutes longer, still perplexed by the softly spoken words. He carefully covered the wraithlike entity before turning out the lights with a final glance, stifling the urge to brush the soft silken waves of his hair.

~~~BMR~~~

Time for more drugs, Katze thought, popping the pain pills as his headache roared to life with the thrumming beat of music as he entered the rear of the club. He chewed the bitter pills and swallowed, nodding to the armed guard at the top of the stairs.

He took the usual route, a quick glance here and there making sure the salons were secured and very much occupied. Not a one empty, a good night.

Easing the jacket off, he examined the label and snorted. No wonder he had been itchy. Never could do with synthetics against his skin. The shirt soon followed as he meticulously undid the buttons and sighed, stopping before his office door.

Waves of genuine fear hit him as he lifted his hand to the unseen encoded lock and soon found it unnecessary as he was hauled through the seeming wall and into the arms of a not so livid, Elite.
Katze braced himself against the solid chest with outstretched hands, feeling the warm silk beneath his finger and smiled, smoothing his fingers over the material, enjoying the rippling muscles beneath.

The door hushed closed behind them as the security locks were engaged for the night.

“It suits you, Sir Am. I thought as much when choosing it.”

So warm, Katze thought allowing his body to mould to the Elite’s delectable form. Fuck but this was embarrassing. He was getting hard already, just from this simple embrace.

“You are easily distracted by your sense of touch, Katze. Our conversation is not to be diverted from its course by sexual overtures.”

The redhead sighed and tried to extricate himself from the steely embrace. “I need one good thing to come of this night, Raoul. I need something mindless. Let’s just fuck. We can argue later.”

Pale brows furrowed with concern as long fingers caressed the tense back of the lithe male through the material of the shirt. What an odd feel to his fingers. Very out of character this choice of vestment.

“We need to talk, but it can and will wait,” Raoul assured lifting the dealer’s obstinate chin with speculative eyes. “They did an excellent job. You look none the worse for wear. Are you in pain?”

Katze shook his head. “I’m sorry for...hitting you, Sir Am. It was the only way. I didn’t want you there in case things got heavy.”

Pale green eyes grew wide in horror. The shirt was a cheap synthetic. “What in Jupiter’s name are you wearing?”

Katze shrugged allowing the jacket to slip from his hands as he lifted them to the unruly mass of Raoul’s hair, searching for the bump as he tipped up and the Elite instinctively leaned down to receive his benediction before stiffening visibly.

Understanding the look, Katze smiled. “I didn’t kiss him.”

He could feel the Blondie’s muscles relax as he lowered his head to accommodate. “Amazing, considering your propensity to orally fixate.”

“Chocolate, smokes and you, Sir Raoul Am, those are my vices.” Katze murmured against his lips.

“Not in that particular order, Katze of Ceres, if you don’t mind.”

A most gratifying response all around, Raoul thought enjoying the soft, wet, smoky warmth of his mongrel’s mouth. He made short work of removing the offending shirt and unzipping the dealer’s trousers, delighting in the hardened find and the wanton gasp that escaped Katze’s lips.

Katze chuckled breathlessly as warm amber eyes smiled teasingly up at the Elite.

“Depends on what’s on offer, Sir Am. I’m very particular about what goes in my mouth.”

“Naughty, naughty, mongrel. You will be punished for such impertinence when addressing your superiors.”

Katze moaned softly, sensually fucking the hot naked hand pumping his cock rhythmically.

“Yeeeees... mmmm...please do,” responded the dealer beginning to pant while trembling fingers undid the sash that held the Elite’s robe closed, denying him a truly spectacular view.

Perhaps sex was an option tonight, Raoul thought enjoying the powerful sight of flushed cheeks, soft jewel toned eyes at half mast and the trembling form that clung to him in need of desperate release. He took those soft, parted lips with pleasure stifling the exultant cry of completion as the mongrel’s essence arced, leaving a slick hot trail upon his abdomen and robe.

Tomorrow, definitely tomorrow, they needed to talk, Raoul mused distractedly pulling that warm giving body even closer, uncaring where it had recently been and with whom. He would rectify the mongrel’s need for possession soon enough with his own flesh.

Katze was his. Admon had been quite right about that.


Author’s Note

And I ask, could this chapter have been longer? LOL! I hope you enjoyed. Let me know.
The wheels are turning peeps! Did anyone notice that Sir Full-of-Himself missed something entirely?
I speak of the Ruby. This usually happens with the pompous amongst us.

Namaste

EP