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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.

Chapter List
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Dark Travesty: Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I am not Christine Feehan. I do not own Christine Feehan or her works. I do not own the rights to her work, nor do I want to, for I can’t write “serious” romance. The characters are my own, the concept hers. Also, this is supposed to be funny—not quite a parody, but close. Want a parody? I could do that too!

Author’s Note: Alaric is not a wuss. He is simply more puppy dog than wolf, because he’s so young compared to any other Carpathian males featuring as heroes, and he’s always had big bro Garran looking out for him. Have you ever heard the musical Les Miserables (which I also don’t own)? “So never kick a dog because he’s just a pup/He’ll fight like twenty armies and he won’t give up/So you’d better run for cover when the pup grows up!”

Chapter Two

As Ryan was finishing her wonderful beef stew, which had retained heat well during that annoying customer’s visit, her cell phone rang. She didn’t see the point in having separate lines for the store and private calls, so she just kept the one phone. It even told her if it was a private call, thanks to her address book inside the little machine.

“Hello?” she said, answering the call from her older sister’s phone.

“Hi, Ryan,” Stephanie said sweetly. “How are you? Have you closed the shop yet?”

“What do you want?” Ryan sighed. “You only use that simpering tone when you want something.”

“That’s unfair!” she protested. “Can’t I just call to see how your day was?”

“Of course you can, but you never do,” she pointed out. “You call to ask if I can watch the kids while you go run an errand or have to see to an emergency.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Stephanie said, as Ryan had expected. “August got something stuck up his nose again, and April’s already got a cold. I don’t want to take her outside, and Mike had to work late tonight. So can you please, please come over and watch April for a little while? She’s drowsy with medicine and watching movies, so she shouldn’t be any trouble!”

Stephanie’s four-year-old twins were beyond the definition of a handful, though they were pretty good at minding Auntie Ryan, which was why she tended to get babysitting duty. They were never that good for Grandma, and usually not for their own parents.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be over in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, thank you, Ryan, I promise this is the last time!”

“You say that every time,” Ryan said to the phone after she hung up. Well, at least she’d gotten to eat first this time. She was even still dressed, though she grabbed her long leather duster from its hook on the wall before heading out the door. That had been some find at Goodwill, and she’d kept it ever since. She also raked a brush through her annoying hair, and pulled it back loosely into a hair tie, the gathering itself slightly below the nape of her neck. Keys and wallet went into her pocket, and then she went out the back way, since the alley let out closer to her sister’s house rather than the extended time of taking the streets. Besides, it wasn’t as though she couldn’t defend herself, especially since she always took one of her hardwood staffs with her. They were very useful tools when she went hiking, even if it was just inside the city.

Besides, there was someone else in the alley with her, a fact she realized moments after she locked the door shut behind her. Easily, it could be a homeless person or some random wanderer, but the paranoia in her gut wasn’t buying that right now. Then again, that was why her city staff was made of good sturdy oak, sanded smooth and waxed to a golden hue.

“Excuse me, bella,” said a lightly accented Italian voice, from behind her.

She turned. “‘Bella?’” Ryan repeated with a derisive snort. “No, I don’t think so.” Although, she had to admit, her curiosity was beginning to get the best of her. It seemed as though it was European tourism week and no one had told her. “You know, generally savory characters don’t hang out in dark alleys at night.”

In the dim light of the stars above and the single electronic light attached to her wall, she couldn’t really make out his features, but he was tall, overly muscled, with fairly dark coloring. He looked as though he thought he could break her in half—and boy would he be surprised if he tried anything.

“I am sorry for that,” he replied, taking a couple of steps closer to her, though still only dimly outlined by the light. “But I couldn’t help but notice the gentleman patronizing your workplace earlier, and I felt it only fair that I should warn you about him. He is a very dangerous man.”

She stared at him blankly. “That Alaric Shelfax? He’s more like a puppy! I think you must be confused or something.”

“He has clearly fooled you in some way,” the shadowed man said. “You should come with me, for your own safety.”

This guy was causing prickly feelings on the back of her neck as Alaric hadn’t, as much as he had bothered her as well. “No. I don’t think so.” Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see that his nails were far too long for the noble demeanor he was conveying, and that his eyes were tinted red—a drug addict? “I can take care of myself, thanks.”

“That cannot be allowed, bella,” he said, more charisma seeping into his voice—effectively making her more ill at ease. “Alaric is dangerous. Did he do nothing to you? Did he not try to…bite you?”

Ryan wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting to that. “What? No! Gross!”

He blinked in surprised. “He…didn’t?”

“No, and you are nuts.” She moved her staff subtly into a more flexible position, where she could easily defend or attack.

He let out a low growl. “I would not do that if I were you, bella. You will come with me whether you like it or not.” He then made the mistake of reaching for her.

Ryan slapped his arm away with her staff, then followed through with a strike toward his head from the butt of her staff, as it circled. He grabbed the staff, but awkwardly, as though this move surprised him. She was able to pull it out of his reach, backing up a few steps, still holding the staff defensively. He was faster than her, and this wasn’t good. Impulsively, she swung out at him like a baseball bat, swinging at full strength—sometimes a bare novice move could do more than an expert one, with someone else who knew what they were doing.

Laughing darkly, he dodged before she could blink, and she ended up hitting the brick wall of her own building, breaking the staff neatly in half. But now she had a useable point in her hands.

“This is pointless, woman,” he said. “You cannot possibly defeat me.”

Gee, no “bella” now, she thought irrationally, as she recovered from the physical shock of meeting that wall. Mentally, she reached out blindly for his mind, but couldn’t seem to quite reach it. It wasn’t like anything she’d seen before, but something unclean and fragmented, distinctly inhuman.

Fortunately, now the staff was short enough to be used like a fencing foil, and she was better at fencing of the two sports. She went into classic stance automatically.

He chuckled again. “A duel is it, signora? You have me at a disadvantage, you might think.”

Ryan lunged, but not with classic fencing style—she used rapier style, at odds with her current stance. It was a cheap feign, but it worked, and she was able to stab him with the sharp wood, causing her to lose control of the staff remainder. Likely it wouldn’t have penetrated as deep, save for the fact that he had been moving rapidly forward at the same time. That momentum stuck the oak in more deeply than she would have expected.

He hissed angrily, all traces of charm and charisma gone now, ripping the wood from his abdomen with far too little attention to the mortal pain he should be in. “Bitch!”

Oh, shit, she managed to think before he grabbed her, one hand grabbing her at the wrist, the other pulling on her ponytail. She was still fighting, but a part of her was in shock at the fact he was still moving. What was he on, PCP?

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Okay, it was a good line in an eighties movie, when spoken firmly by an action hero. It was bad enough in real life, but worse when it was said rather uncertainly. Also, when it was said by Alaric Shelfax—what was he doing here, anyway?

“She’s mine,” the other guy said, dangerously. He tried to attack Alaric as he approached, but Ryan got in the way, her raised hand and hair taking what felt like the slashing attack of a knife, save for the fact she saw that it was his fingernails.

As the severed ponytail fluttered to the ground, Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “And you really shouldn’t have done that.”

Ryan made use of the distraction to kick backwards at the guy’s groin, certain that would distract him. If that alone didn’t do it, she also sharply elbowed his wound, heedless of getting blood on her leather jacket. She managed to break out of his grip, and picked up the other half of the staff, backing towards Alaric, her eyes on her opponent.

Alaric stepped between her and the other guy. “Get out of here, Ryan.”

“Are you nuts?” she demanded, still keeping her eyes on the bleeding man.

He ignored her. “You shouldn’t be here. You know that she’s not yours. How is it none of you realize that even if you find the right woman, you already lost your souls? They don’t come back.”

What was he talking about?

“We’ll see,” hissed the other man, making a mad dive around Alaric for Ryan. Ryan stabbed out at him, and Alaric turned, his eyes flashing red as well, albeit momentarily. Though Ryan felt the solid impact of her blow, it was Alaric who made him fly across the alley, surprising, it seemed, all three of them.

“May I see that?” Alaric asked politely, taking the staff fragment from Ryan. He forced it through the other’s chest as he tried to regain his balance, already clearly weak from loss of blood. Then, a spark of electricity flew from the back light, hitting the impaled body until it incinerated in a matter of moments.

Alaric looked at the light, then at the cloudless sky. “Well, that’s different. Nicely inconspicuous, though.” He turned around to Ryan, and visibly swallowed.

“What was that?” she demanded.

“A wee bit complicated,” he replied, his voice thick with…something. “I can’t really explain here. You appear to be bleeding.”

Ryan looked at her hand, frowning at the injury, which closed in a matter of a few seconds of concentration.

“That’s not normal,” Alaric said, gaping at her.

She looked at him incredulously. “This isn’t normal?” She indicated the blackened earth, tendrils of smoke still rising from it. “That isn’t normal! I’m a fricking healer, all right? Now what are you, and what was that guy?”

Suddenly Alaric’s expression turned to one of concern. “Did you touch any of the blood?”

“Just with my elbow—”

He grabbed her arm, studying the worn leather. “Strange. Nothing happened to your coat.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the other staff,” he told her, still checking her arm.

Ryan looked around, and then saw what he meant. The section she’d used to stab that man with was simply dissolving, giving off smoke, as though being eaten at with acid. “How…”

“Like I said, it’s difficult to explain.”

She pulled her gaze away from the staff and back to him, then realized he was staring at her mouth, still holding her arm. “Don’t even—”

That was all she managed before his lips were pressed against hers.

In a way, the kiss was surprisingly chaste, and yet Ryan had to resist the urge to—

Throw her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and ensuring that there was no uncertainty about her feelings…

—push him away. She finally did manage that last bit, catching both of them off-guard, it seemed. Then, she used a nifty little trick she’d picked up by being a psychically gifted younger sibling.

She grabbed his mind with hers, holding him in place there without clear knowledge of his surroundings, and bolted down the alley. In addition to not wanting to face what was clearly some bizarre delusion, she was supposed to be at her sister’s house.
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Dark Travesty