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Enough	By : PandorasDeath Category: Anita Blake > General Views: 1667 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Enough
- 1
“Dammit, Anita, why does everything have to be a fight with you? You can never just give in” Nathanial had never been this angry or vocal before the marks. Just another one of those great perks. I know I was always encouraging him to be more independent but he seemed to equate that with being more demanding. I was starting to get very tired of being blamed for everything, tired and angry.
“If you don’t get why I don’t just give in then you don’t get me!” My voice was starting to bleed my anger. I hadn’t fed the ardeur in over a day. I was sitting on very shaky ground.
I started flexing my hands in an effort to calm my anger and keep my hands from stroking my weapons. I was feeling very defensive right now. The browning was in its inner pants holster and I had the long blade running down my back. Truth was I was on my way out to do an execution when Nathanial ambushed me. “Why don’t we discuss this when I get back, the sun sets in twenty minutes and I have a job to do,” See I could be calm.
“No! You’re not running from this fight.” Nathanial grabbed my arm with the strength that reminded me that he wasn’t human no matter how much he looked it.
Micah entered the room drawn by all the shouting, “what’s going on?” Micah looked at me.
I sensed something accusative in his voice and it sent me right back to the edge, “Why is it always my fault? I’m getting a little sick and tired of always being the one to blame”
Micah responded somewhat apologetically, “Sorry, but you usually are the one who is making things difficult.”
I let out a frustrated yell and lost it, the words started tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Why is it always me who has to change, why is it my morals, my values, my feelings that are thrown out the window. I didn’t want this! I didn’t want any of this! I wanted to raise zombies, kill vampires, and marry Richard. But no it doesn’t matter what I want cause the leopards need a leader, and jean class=GramE>claude needs a servant, and who gives a flying fuck what I want. Every day I become a little more like you and a little less like me and I’m sick of it. I’ve been manipulated long enough!”
The anger rode over me and I didn’t notice the gun in my hand till after the first round was fired. Silver plated bullets had made an ugly mess in my kitchen. Another round went off and kitty-cat eyes were staring at me with a glazed look. Damian walked in the front door and my anger found him. Another three rounds and he lay crumpled on the linoleum floor. I started to feel myself being suffocated by the marks that bound me to Damian and Nathanial. They were both dead and trying to drag me along.
This fueled my anger even further. Even in death they were still making demands on me. It was all I needed to sustain myself until jean-claud arrived. He should have sensed by now, through the marks, that something was very wrong.
He flew through the door and ran to me, “Ma Petite what has happened, why are you shielding from me?” He stared past me into the kitchen. “Mon Dieu, What has happened here?” He thought I was in shock from finding them. He was so wrong. The manipulative bloodsucker was about to find out how wrong.
My knife was in my hand and I don’t think he even heard me until the blade cut through the air. It sliced through his neck as soft as butter. And he fell to the floor.
Blood started flowing from my fingernails and my eyes. The marks were trying desperately to kill me. But I still had work to do. I still had to kill. Zane and cherry walked through the front door hand in hand.
“Is Nathanial cooking steak or something, it smells like bloody meat in here.” Sane always was so observant. Maybe they could put that on his tombstone. Two more bullets and they didn’t even move out of the way.
I got in my car and drove, auto-pilot, all the way to Richards house. I opened the door and walked right in. The music of some out of date Broadway musical greeted my ears as I entered his living room. He was breathing heavy and slumped in the loveseat. He looked up at me like I would save him. I pointed the gun and fired pointblank into his heart. “Now you have a broken heart too.”
I walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone. I dialed the number by memory and was connected almost immediately. “Hello?”
“It’s Anita. The game is on, it’s time we found out the answer.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“See you soon, Edward”
- 1
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