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Dark Travesty	By : bardnightstar Category: A through F > Dark Series Views: 2304 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Dark Travesty: Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Quick recap. Me = not Christine Feehan. Therefore: I = owns nothing. If I had any rights to the Dark series whatsoever, I’d be trying to get paid. ^_^

Author’s Note: Sorry! Trying to update got pushed onto the back burner and, yes, I am a procrastinator. I extend many thanks to my reviewers.

Chapter Ten

All that Ryan wanted was a nice, simple dinner with her parents, without having to worry about any of the crap that was going on in her life right now. She certainly didn’t want to have to think about any insane guys with delusions of grandeur. Most of all, she did not want to think about a strange light sensitivity she’d noted today, nor a nausea that increased at the sight of food. Her mother, thank god, had made a vegetable soup in addition to the entrée, of which Ryan highly doubted she’d be able to partake. She felt sick, and knew her mother probably realized that. She had also (conveniently but actually) forgotten to call Fala and invite her. Ryan couldn’t really recall the last time she’d been so relieved.

Despite feeling ill, she’d forced herself to go to the fencing studio and use the practice room for an hour, spending it attacking the unmoving wire pell—a convenient target for use during such sessions. Then, she’d gone home to take half a bottle of Pepto, since her normal herbal remedy (licorice, ginger, and peppermint in this case) had proved a failure this time. The magic pink liquid also failed to help her, unfortunately. In fact, it had only made her worse—she’d spent the better part of a half hour over her toilet, vomiting up her very toenails. A bit pale and green at the gills, she’d gone then to try another cup of tea, to get the taste out of her mouth, if nothing else. Then, she’d dropped enough dignity to call her father, Stephen Banagher, to pick her up rather than walking.

So, all in all, she’d forgotten to call Fala.

And yet…twenty minutes after she got there, there was a knock at the door. Stephen didn’t stir from his armchair, every fiber of his attention focused on the sports game on the television. He’d done his part in making dessert earlier, and would probably get roped into dishes after dinner. Julie Banagher was in the dining room, and so looked up at the first knock, and hurried to the door. All Ryan could think was, Oh, God, please let it be Stephanie. Please, please…

“Oh, Fala, honey, you made it!” Julie cried, hugging the auburn-haired woman. “And Evan, too!” He got a hug, too. Julie was a very tactile person, especially with such an old friend as Fala. Evan looked a bit nonplussed at the attention. “Oh. And…who is this?”

Ryan had been thinking, Please no, don’t let them have brought him too…

Exactly who was supposed to be monitoring frantic prayers tonight, anyway? Whoever it was needed to be retrained.

Fala smiled—oh, Lord, it was her impish smile. Shit. Fuck. She was matchmaking again. Ryan was shocked also at the rather…strong language her mind was choosing tonight, though it certainly fit the situation.

“What do you mean, Julie?” Fala asked, far too innocently. “Hasn’t Ryan told you?”

Julie looked at her daughter with brown eyes with only the faintest crow’s feet at the edges. “Told me what?”

Fala grabbed his arm, pulling him inside. “Why, this is Alaric Shelfax. Ryan’s boyfriend.”

Alaric’s eyes went straight to Ryan, and she was trying not to grate her teeth in frustration…even as she was ignoring the hormonal reactions of her own body. She hated that, feeling like she wanted him this much, purely in the physical sense, without even the ties of a relationship. How could that be? Especially considering how crazy it was driving her!

Julie pounced on the comment. “A boyfriend? Ryan, you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend! Oh, this is wonderful; of course, we have plenty of food…” She continued, and Ryan refused to approach Alaric, grabbing Fala by the arm.

“Who invited you?” she asked in an undertone.

Fala smiled brightly. “Your mother, of course. I took it upon myself to invite Alaric…oh, and he’s promised to behave himself. We’ll talk later.” She winked.

Great. Fabulous. Fala was already set in her path, by the expression on her face, and nothing would pull her away from it now. Fortunately, Julie had latched onto Alaric and was busy quizzing him on his “relationship” with her daughter. Frankly, Ryan didn’t want to have to deal with him and was praying with fervor (hoping someone would listen this time!) that she wouldn’t end up alone with him during the course of the evening. Based on her purely physical reactions, she might just end up demanding he go to bed with her.

Julie had taken Alaric by the arm into the dining room, and Fala had practically skipped after them, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a female counterpart to Puck. Ryan unbent enough to actually give Evan a pleading expression.

“Can’t you do something about her?” she asked, glad that she’d kept a whining hue out of her voice.

Evan only sighed. “Honestly, between those two, I think they could turn white to black and convince the President of the United States to sign the country over to Canada. And then, for an encore, they’d tour the world with a two man show of Cats.” There was a certain beseeching look in his eyes, too. “Do you think you could just give him a chance?”

Ryan glared at him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “You have not been around for the plotting between them, or the wild ideas that have been tossed back and forth. Alaric is not as you seem to have decided he is.”

“Really,” she said, unimpressed.

“Do you honestly believe that Fala would encourage a man undeserving of it?” Evan asked pointedly.

That was a valid point, and not one she had a ready response for. Fortunately, that was when Julie called them to dinner, taking a tray with food into her husband, who likely wouldn’t stir from where he sat until the game was concluded.

Fala and Alaric were already seated when the other two entered. Evan went unerringly to the other side, to sit next to his wife, who was to the left of the head of the table, where Julie would sit. The space to the right of the head was vacant, and next to that one was Alaric. Evan met Ryan’s eyes and gave a slight, apologetic shrug, as if to say he was only following orders. Ryan suppressed a sigh, squared her shoulders, and marched to her seat. She was determined to come through this with her dignity intact.

And, thank god again, with Julie talking Alaric’s ear off, Ryan couldn’t get much of a word in edgewise. But that left her with nothing to do but stare at the somehow unpalatable food, trying fiercely to keep the single bite of salad she’d taken down. Why couldn’t she seem to eat food today?

Eat. It’s important to keep up your strength.

Somehow, that brought out Ryan’s latent anger, and she dropped her shields long enough to shoot back, Stay out of my fucking head!

She sensed surprise in his response, though she’d closed her thoughts to him again. Such language!

She wasn’t some damn pampered princess here! He sounded like a freaking nineteenth century school marm. At any rate, neither of them were betraying these thoughts on their faces, which was a good thing, considering how Julie would have instantly noticed that. Ryan did hope, though, that Fala, the damn empath, was picking up on the killing vibe she was emanating.

Just then, Fala shot her an amused grin. Ryan scanned her surface thoughts and came up with, I know you think you want to kill me, hon, but I also know that you won’t.

Ryan forced herself to remember that grinding one’s teeth was generally bad for them.

Evan, at least, managed to insinuate himself into the conversation, and get the topic off Alaric and his alleged relationship with Julie’s youngest daughter. Ryan knew she’d liked that man.

As for dinner itself, Ryan found herself unable to eat anything but the soup. The grilled steak entrée was entirely out of the question, considering how green she went simply looking at the slice of meat. Fortunately, Alaric bore a similar expression and pleaded a preference for vegetarianism that rather caught Ryan off guard. That, at least, kept Julie from noticing how her daughter subtly transferred the portion back to the serving dish. And Julie was able to round up both the guys for conversation during the digestion period between the entrée and the apple crumble waiting in the warm oven. Ryan was able to ask Fala to join her in the kitchen, alone, without the complication of Alaric.

“I think I have been behaving very rationally about this,” Ryan said without prelude. “I have been very clear about my intentions toward Alaric. So…what is it you think you’re doing?”

To her surprise, Fala was willing to be serious. “I’m encouraging him. He would be good for you.”

“Good for me?” she said incredulously. “How could he possibly be good for me?”

“You’d understand if you spent any time listening to him,” Fala retorted. “You just have a few ideas you’ve come up with about him that you aren’t willing to part with. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

Ryan gave her a look that probably betrayed her irritation. “Fala, he’s a lunatic. I do not know what he’s been telling you—”

“Of course you do,” she cut in. “He’s been telling me what he’s been telling you, and he isn’t lying.” She stood there for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Tell you what, let’s compromise. I’ll grab him after dinner, convince him to leave you alone until at least tomorrow. Then, tomorrow afternoon, you and I can have a talk. I’ll bring drinks.”

Since liquids were reacting best with Ryan right now, she reluctantly nodded. “Okay. I’ll accept that.”

Fala smiled. “Good. Now let’s get back out there before your mother gets too…herself with Alaric.”

“Too late,” Ryan muttered in an undertone, smiling despite herself.

Postscript: Boy, is it fun keeping Ryan and Alaric apart, although I’m considering sticking a focus on Fala and Evan to get some of my warning stuff out of the way…if you know what I mean *wink*. Now, since inquiring minds want to know…I would compare Christine Feehan and her books to a very strong addiction. It’s bad for you and you know it, but once you get started, it’s damnably hard to quit. I think her concepts are quite interesting, notably the whole Carpathian and lifemate ideas. However, I don’t always like her execution of those ideas and the periodic lack of originality therein. For instance, her guys sometimes seem like they came from a giant cookie cutter, and her girls are always massively distinctive. As m’lady WaterShadow points out, none of them have plain brown hair. Ryan, by the way, has brown hair for that very reason. Oh, also, they sometimes have inconveniently timed sex…like in Dark Guardian, when the heroes have sex outside while being pursued by the baddies. That would just be a really inconvenient way to be found…well, in my humble opinion. My favorite so far is probably Dark Legend. The one I couldn’t stand was Dark Symphony, and I’m not sure why. My favorite Carpathian male is Julian Savage, and my least favorite is Rafael de la Cruz. I’m also very intrigued by Gregori and Gabriel. Also, the banter between Darius and Tempest really amuses me, but Tempest damn near gives me cavities with her sickening sweetness. Now, I’ve just finished my Christmas present of Dark Melody, and have to admit it was rather well written in comparison, in that it had a definite, concrete plot beyond the wild monkey sex. Also, Dayan was thinking with the brain that lives above the belt…anyway. So that was a bit of a long postscript, but I try to address a question specifically. My high school teachers always hated that about me, lol.
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Dark Travesty