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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 Seven

Disclaimer: These do I not own: Christine Feehan, Dark series, knowledge of my grades for finals. Beyond that, all standard disclaimers apply. The owner of the first party owns what is owned and what is not owned is owned by the party of the second party, and when the third party is thrown in, all shall get together and party!

Author’s Note: No, Fala is not a *shudder* Mary-Sue. Yes, Fala was created at about two o’clock in the morning of the week before finals. She has a peculiar appearance, true, but I do not plan on saddling her with a lifemate, nor do I plan on using her to make everything okay—in fact, a troublemaker would be most ideal (think Loki…). Her sole function is that of the Hindu karma—action! I needed something to make the story progress, used a random number generator for the letter, skimmed the list until I found a name I liked, and voila! [Sidenote: Yep, I certainly do have a religions final on Hinduism, and no I don’t have one for French. I gave up on that a long time ago…]

Chapter Seven

Alaric was astounded by this rather short young woman—shorter even than Ryan. And how was it she was psychic, too? True psychics were rare, or so he’d always been told.

“Well?” Fala said again. “I don’t have all night here.”

He had to readjust his initial opinion of this woman. Clearly, though she was little and not at all the warrior Ryan was, she was not to be underestimated. There was something feline in this woman, like a small wildcat well prepared to defend her young to the death.

“This…hardly seems like a good place to discuss this,” he pointed out. “Perhaps we should go someplace else?”

Fala pulled out a small electronic device—a cellular phone—and glanced at it, probably checking the time. “Okay. But make it quick.” She glanced back at him. “There’s a café not far from here that will probably work.” She turned on her heels without another apparent thought, and led the way down the street.

Women were decidedly odd here, Alaric decided as he followed her. These two alone were certainly the utter opposite of his mother. He would, however, have to figure out what to tell her without revealing the existence of his people—he couldn’t risk exposure.

They received a table in the nearly vacant café at once, and Fala slid into a seat first, pulling her ankle-length black skirt in with her. She smiled winningly at the server, and ordered at once—a soda and cheeseburger with fries. She turned a serious face to Alaric.

“So,” she said. “Explain.”

Alaric chose his first words carefully. “You are well-traveled, yes?”

She nodded.

“Have you ever come across the term ‘lifemate?’” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “Sort of like soul-mate?”

“Yes,” Alaric replied, relieved. “The concept of two souls, two bodies being made for each other. It is predestined.”

An auburn eyebrow rose. “And you’re saying that this is what Ryan is to you?” She began laughing in a suppressed undertone, bent over the table. “No wonder she’s so irritated! Oh my God, Ran being chemically forced into a relationship! Classic! But what makes you so sure?”

“I’m sure,” he said with a sigh. “It…isn’t something that can be ignored or imagined, especially in my people.”

“Your people?” she prompted immediately, and Alaric regretted the slip.

“My…family line,” he managed. “This sort of thing goes back a long time.”

She nodded. “Understandable. I inherited more than just a surname from my own family.”

McKay…a variation of the name “McCoy” from his own land. The line of Aodh…assuming that she was a true descendant, that meant very rare things indeed. He didn’t know much of the mythology of Ireland, but that name was familiar enough. He would have to ask Garran for more information. However, he didn’t want her to realize he knew that much about it.

Fala’s phone rang, and she pulled it out, holding up a finger to him. “Hello? Oh, hi, honey…what? We don’t have rehearsal until…” She looked up at the clock on the wall. “Shit. I forgot my phone changed with the time zone.” She sighed. “Okay, I’ll be there in a few. Yeah, bye.” She flipped the phone shut, and flashed a smile at Alaric. “I’m late. We’ll have to continue this discussion later.” She stopped the server, and requested a box for her food. She dropped a ten on the table, and stood. “Seriously—we need to talk about this later on. I have rehearsal tomorrow, until seven. Come by the Golden Crown after that.” As she left the building, she picked up the box from the server.

Alaric shook his head, as he, too left. Women were definite enigmas, and he was beginning to feel uncertain about this whole lifemate issue.

* * *

Ryan was one of the privileged few to see Fala’s show during rehearsal, while the bar/club was still closed. She usually got a large crowd on these return visits to her hometown, and she even had new material this time. It wasn’t normally her habit to sing in such mundane locations, but this was an unusual circumstance. After all, she only made it home once or twice a year, now that her parents had retired to some random city in Florida. It was always a pleasure to hear Fala sing, especially since her songs weren’t exactly of the sort typically heard on the radio. There was a definite Celtic twist to her style.

After the rehearsal, Fala deftly dropped the mic into its stand, and hopped off the low stage, coming toward Ryan, who sat at one of the tables.

“What did you think?” she asked, looking at her intently. This was Fala-speak for I’m nervous as all hell, I think this is going to a bust, and I need to know you approve.

Ryan nodded. “Very nice. You’ve added a lot of songs.”

Fala beamed. “Yeah! I exchanged a few at Pennsic, and thought they’d work in really well.” She dropped into the empty seat as one of the few waitresses getting the place ready for opening put a water bottle down in front of her. “I thought it would be intelligent to change out a few songs. How’s the shop going, anyway, Ran? We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about mundane things yesterday.”

She shrugged. “It’s…going. I have to admit the market seems to be getting smaller. But I still break even, and usually even have a bit of profit.”

Fala took a long drink from her water bottle, then set it down carefully. “Ran, I’m afraid I must admit to a bit of plotting against you.”

Ryan looked at her levelly. “What did you do?”

“Well,” she said sheepishly, “I think it loosely translates to ‘Lookie what I found.’” She gestured and Ryan turned. Alaric had just entered through the front door, and was looking around cautiously.

“What?” she exclaimed in a fierce whisper. “How did you find him?”

“Actually, he found me,” she replied. “I set Evan out to look for him. Now, you are going to be civil to this man or I am going to lay in wait outside your bathroom and knock you unconscious so I can beat you up.”

Alaric looked apprehensive as he approached, his eyes on Ryan the whole time. She was feeling at least as nervous as he looked, and tried not to let her cheeks redden. At least the lighting was rather dim in here. “I’d wondered why you begged me to come this evening,” Ryan hissed, shooting Fala a quick glare.

“He didn’t know about it,” she assured her, a wicked gleam in her dark azure eyes. “At least hear him out, dearest. Haven’t I known you long enough to know when something’s going to be good for you?”

“No!” she retorted. That was all that could be said, though, before Alaric reached the table, standing near it with tension in every muscle. Behind him was Evan Marker, Fala’s fair-haired husband of the past three years, more or less.

When Evan sat down at the table, too, Alaric was regarding him warily, as if he were a threat of some sort.

“Alaric,” Fala said sharply, but with a faint smile. “This is my husband, Evan Marker.”

“Nice to meet you,” Evan said dryly, holding out a hand.

Alaric relaxed, and shook the hand.

Evan raised an eyebrow, smoky gray eyes turning to Fala. As always, there seemed to be some unspoken communication between them. She smiled at him—a gentle and genuine one—and rested a hand on his arm. Then, she addressed Alaric.

“Please, sit down.”

Alaric hesitated for a moment, before taking a seat. He glanced uncomfortably at Ryan. “I…didn’t know that you would be here.”

“I didn’t know you would be here,” she said in turn.

“Well, would you look at that, we’ve got to go talk to the manager,” Fala declared, standing up. “You two wait right here for us, and we’ll be back. Come on, honey.”

Evan shook his head ruefully, gave Ryan an apologetic shrug, and followed his wife. Fala did have a tendency toward getting her way.

Ryan glanced at Alaric, irritated with the way her body was reacting to his very presence. It made her feel like a dog in heat, and she did not like that feeling in the least. “So…are you insisting on sticking to that crazy story you told me the other night?”

“It’s the truth,” he said simply. “I wouldn’t lie to you, lass.”

“Stop calling me that!” she cried. “I am not a collie dog!” Then her face went scarlet as she remembered her dream.

Alaric looked baffled. “A collie dog?”

“That old T.V. show, Lassie,” she explained, looking down at her drink.

“Oh. I don’t watch a lot of television.” Alaric sighed. “Ryan, you know that I am telling you the truth. Or do you even mistrust your own gifts and abilities?”

“You could be insane,” she pointed out. “I’ve never tried using them on an insane person.”

“I am not insane,” he replied.

“Not all crazy people look it,” Ryan said defensively. “They seem rational, to a degree.”

“Do you honestly think that I’m mad?” he asked, sounding a bit exasperated.

She faltered. “No. I guess not.”

“Then that would be progress made,” he said with a rather triumphant smile.

She glared at him. “What did you tell Fala to get her to arrange this?”

“I told her we were lifemates, and she believed me. I did not tell her about my people, as I told you, though I think she would be more likely to believe than you are. Fala is…a very peculiar woman.”

“Yes, she is,” Ryan agreed with a slight sigh. And a very dead one, or at least maimed, for arranging this. But why did her body want this? Something in her did have a very strong pull toward him, and she couldn’t completely suppress it. “Okay, assuming you’re right…how do you make it go away?”

“You don’t,” he said with a mild look of surprise in his honey-colored eyes. “You can’t. These things are…they’re destined, and beyond the hands of human or Carpathian. There’s really no say to be had.”

“So,” Fala said, returning, “has he asked you out on a date yet?”

“What?” they said in unison.

Fala looked at Even in exasperation.

“I think she is suggesting the two of you get to know each other better on your own,” Evan elaborated. “She’s very stubborn, you know that, Ryan. Do you really want her to drive you to distraction over this?”

Ryan glanced at Alaric. “That’s actually a good point.”

Silence followed, until Fala sighed dramatically, and approached Alaric. She spoke in an exaggerated whisper. “Ask her to go to a movie with you.”

“What?” he said.

Fala glared. “Ask her.”

Alaric looked uncomfortable as he turned to Ryan. “Would you…like to see a movie with me?”

Fala looked pointedly at Ryan.

“I suppose,” she managed.

Fala smiled. “Good. Now get going.”

“What?” Ryan demanded this time.

“There are two movies starting within the hour,” Fala replied. “We can even give you a ride, right, Evan?”

“If you insist,” he said with what Ryan considered a tremendous show of patience.

Fala smiled, and took his hand. “Okay, so let’s go.” She started toward the door, pulling Evan along behind her.

Ryan squared her shoulders, and followed. At least this would get the whole argument over and done with.

* * *

Fala waved brightly after they dropped Ryan and Alaric off at the theater, as Evan began to drive away.

“You know he’s not normal,” Evan said noncommittally.

She laughed. “So? You aren’t precisely normal. Neither am I, for that matter.”

“More than that,” he insisted. “I don’t trust him.”

“And I’m not asking you too,” she replied softly. “I’m asking you to trust me, at least in this situation. Ran needs this, and I’m thinking Alaric does, too. This is important.”

“Fala…”

“Evan. I know what I’m doing.” She reached over to take his right hand, and squeezed it. “And you and I both know that Ran can take care of herself.”

He turned to give her a quick smile. “Fine. But we should keep an eye on her, at the very least.”

“Well, of course,” she said. “You know me, honey. I always look after my own.”
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Dark Travesty