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 Bloodshot

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Kinta Sarrai
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 26th 2013, 7:11 pm

"Talk about perfect timing." Abaddon mumbled and with a slightly frustrated sigh, gave Mircea a quick kiss and wiggled off his lap; purposely wiggling herself against the evidence of his swift arousal, and she sauntered her way to the end table where her phone sat waiting patiently. The purpose of her swaying hips was to further tease the Vampire, but when she picked up her phone and read the message, all teasing was forgotten. It was day time and Mircea wouldn't be able to go to the scene to check things out. She could, and she would. It was part of her job. She was after all, very experienced in these matters. Perhaps she would pose a petition to the Court to start it's own police force.

"There's a problem, Mircea." She waited a moment, getting a slight itchy feeling directly between her shoulder blades. "Edward is dead. Cade is severely injured. I think something or someone is after both of them."

She turned back to face him and handed him the phone so he could read the message as well. "I need to get out to the scene. Perhaps there's something my spidey senses will be able to pick up better than Proctor." Abaddon moved off to get dressed, throwing on a pair of faded and ripped jeans, her black work boots and a fairly thick black hooded Harley Davidson sweatshirt. She pulled her hair back and up into a quick high pony tail.

"Do you have a car I can borrow? My bike is in the shop and won't be done until the end of the week." She asked Mircea with a somewhat sheepish grin.

_________________
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 26th 2013, 8:20 pm

“You needn’t ask, my dear,” Mircea rose and approached the inset bookshelves that lined one wall. He pulled on a series of book spines and stepped back, “Everything is yours for the taking.” There was a soft whoosh, and a portion of the bookshelf began to recede further into the wall. It slid to the right, into a hidden compartment, revealing a sizable armory. Mircea stepped inside, and after a moment returned, holding a medium sized silver pistol.

“The Les Baer Stinger,” he slid the full magazine in and racked a round, “When nothing but the best will do.” He offered the weapon to Abaddon, “Please for my own peace of mind. Take it.” He pressed the grip into her hand, “And use it when necessary.”

He brushed her cheek with his cool fingertips, staring into her eyes. Mircea kissed her - a deep passionate display of affection. “I believe that you will find the Mercedes to your liking,” a key appeared in his hand, “I’ll open the gate for you.”

***

Proctor fished the phone from his jacket pocket; it had begun to vibrate. Glancing at the screen, he quickly tapped accept and brought it to his ear.

“Abaddon has insisted on examining the... scene for herself,” Mircea’s voice interrupted Proctor’s attempt at a greeting. “I expect you to allow her the privilege, but do ensure that neither of you leave a trace.”

“Of course,” Proctor responded flatly. “And what do I do with the dog?”

Mircea did not immediately reply; several seconds passed before the vampire finally instructed, “Bring him home with you. I shall call Doctor Maskelyne.” Mircea softly added, “I know that we can always rely on his discretion.”

***

Cade let out a whimper as the giant manservant unceremoniously shoved him into the back of a car. The man, Proctor as Mircea had referred to him, pulled a fleece blanket from underneath the seat and roughly tossed it over Cade. The back door shut loudly, shaking the entire vehicle.

Lying back, his head resting against the cool glass, Cade looked out of the rear window. A black car was quickly approaching, Cade squinted, his vision blurring slightly. The car looked expensive, another one of Mircea’s toys no doubt.

The car came to a stop a few yards down the road, and the front door swung open.

“Abaddon,” Cade croaked. His throat was so dry.

Proctor seemed to be waiting on her.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 26th 2013, 10:26 pm

Abaddon had ditched the hooded sweatshirt and replaced it with a long-sleeved black shirt. It boasted some metal bands name across the chest. She had snatched a shoulder holster for the gun Mircea had given her and it nestled snugly beneath her left arm. She had tossed her leather jacket over it all to not only keep the chill out, but to hide the gun as well.


The keys he had handed her went to a jet black Mercedes SL65. The windows were tinted dark enough that it was very hard to see inside the vehicle from the outside. Abaddon preferred her cars that way. Sometimes the lights of the City reeked havoc on her eyes. The black leather seats enfolded her almost as if they had been made for her, and knowing Mircea he probably had the car custom made with her specs in mind. The seats were even heated, keeping her comftorable in the chilly air that streamed through the partially open driver’s window. She couldn’t keep both windows up. She had to have some kind of fresh air hitting her face.


Almost as soon as she pulled the car over to the side of the road a few yards from the scene, her senses started going crazy. She killed the engine and got out. The first thing that hit her was the smell. It was the same sickly, acrid stench she remembered from her youth. It was the unmistakable stench of sulfur. She knew; even before collecting evidence, that a Demon had been here. Abaddon reached into the car and pulled her backpack off of the passenger seat before closing the door and slipping the keys into her coat pocket. There were two necklaces fastened around her neck and hidden beneath her shirt. One was a sterling silver cross. There was no depiction of Christ crucified upon it, but it had been blessed at the Vatican where she had been trained. You see, Abaddon wasn’t a War Mage as everyone believed. She was; what the Church called, one of The Angelic. While her mother was pregnant, the life force of an Angelic creature had fused with hers. Instead of being born a Mage, Abaddon had been born an Angel. The tell-tale sign was the Angelic wings tattooed on the inside of each wrist. The other necklace she wore, was a tiny vial filled with Holy Water in which she always kept an ample supply in her backpack.

Carefully, she picked her way through the broken trees and foliage until she came across the ruined SUV. Proctor stood nearby, watching her with a slightly strange look. Had her spectral wings poked out already? Sparing a glance behind her, she saw that they had not. Slowly, she picked her way around the vehicle, her hand hovering above the surface. A faint white light seemed to make her hand glow ethreal. When her pale gaze fell on the claw marks, she stopped dead in her tracks. There were three desintct claw marks that seemed to have been burned into the metal. The marking of the Trinity.

Shit.” Abaddon said out loud, crouching down beside the vehicle. She pulled her pack down beside her and removed a set of rubber gloves. “Did you notice anything when you arrived, Proctor? Any strange smell, or sound?” She asked as she pulled on her gloves with practiced ease.

Besides the faint smell of something rotten? No.” He answered, continuting to watch her with now what appeared to be growing interest.

What ever you see here does not get back to anyone. Not Cade, not Mircea. I haven’t told Mircea yet, but I promise that I will as soon as I get back.” She pulled another small vial from her pack, this one empty. She took a few scrapings from the burned metal into the vial and topped it with a black screw cap. She slid the vial into her pocket and removed the gloves, tossing them into her backpack.

We have Demons.” Abaddon told Proctor almost casually as if it were a normal occurance. To her, it was. She was one of The Angelic afterall, a Demon Hunter. “Is Cade in the back of your car?”

Yes.” He replied, though saying nothing about the Demon comment.

She stood up and moved to Proctor’s car. She opened the back door. Cade lay beneath a fleece blanket, bloody and uncouncious. “Jesus.” She said softly before taking his hand and turning it over so the palm face upward. She placed hers above his, but not touching. The white light that had been glowing before grew brighter, more intense. The veins in Cade’s hand and arm turned black with the corruption the Demon had left behind. The moment Abaddon’s hand dropped away, the blackness faded and his skin returned to normal.

I need to do a cleansing of the area. Will you give a call to the Sanguine Catholic Church and ask Father Richards to meet us back home?”

It was an odd request to say the least, but Proctor had heard stranger things. He nodded once to Abaddon, then pulled out his phone to make the call.

She moved back over to the smashed SUV that had been Edward’s. She knelt down on the ground and uncrewed the vial from her necklace. She shrugged off her jacket, setting it down ontop of her backpack. The holster and gun were visible, but it was just her and Proctor here. Softly, Abaddon began to chant in Latin. She continued as she stood, sprinkling the holy water around the immediate area. There was a great hissing sound and faint whisps of smoke curled into the air. Bright white spectral wings blazed out from Abaddon’s shoulder blades and rose high into the air, at least six to seven feet. The chanting continued and she noticed another voice chimed in. It was Proctor’s.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 27th 2013, 11:32 am

Dr. Nevil Maskelyne, a brown bowler perched atop his bald pate, slowly walked around the dark mansion.  As per Mr. Munroe’s request, the good doctor had avoided the main entrance, and was instead approaching a servant’s door at the back of the sprawling estate. He paused in front of the wooden door, taking a deep breath. He didn’t know why, but he always felt a creeping sense of dread anytime Mr. Munroe summoned him to the castle. There was something off about Mircea, something he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

Mastering his fear, Dr. Maskelyne raised a hand and gently rapped on the door. He listened, and knocked once more. He heard the dead bolt slide back, and then the door screeched open on rusted metal hinges.

“Ah, Nevil,” a deathly pale man greeted him, “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, Mr. Munroe,” Dr. Maskelyne removed his hat and entered with an awkward bow. He waited as the door was closed and latched before he spoke again, “And what can I do for you today, Mr. Munroe?”

“Call me Mircea, please,” the smartly dressed man smiled, “We have known one another far too long to be enslaved by such formality.”  With a grand gesture, Mircea guided the nervous doctor out of the servant’s quarter and down a long barren hallway. “I do apologize for the cloak and dagger request,” Mircea glanced over his shoulder as he led the way, “But discretion is of the utmost importance.”

Dr. Maskelyne nodded, “Of course,” he clutched his hat and briefcase tightly in one hand, the other stuffed deeply into his pants’ pocket. “But I should like to know what you need me to do.”

Mircea smiled, showing off a row of perfect white teeth, “Of course, right this way.” He pushed against the wall and the hidden panel swung open. Dr. Maskelyne held his breath as he stepped through the archway, entering the large sitting room. He paused for a moment as Mircea quickly slid the panel back into place. “This way,” Mircea led him across the warmly lit room toward a plush Victorian styled settee. Another man rose to greet them.

“It is my distinct pleasure to introduce you to Father Ceri Richards,” Mircea moved aside, allowing his guests to shake hands. “Father? This is Dr. Nevil Maskelyne, the skilled practitioner I mentioned earlier.”

“Pleasure,” Dr. Maskelyne winced as the priest roughly grasped his hand. Despite his advanced age, Father Richards had one hell of a handshake. He finally managed to pry his fingers from the vice, a fleeting sense of relief washed over him. Placing his briefcase next to the settee, Dr. Maskelyne rubbed his sore hand, “Did someone die?”

Mircea smiled, and gestured for them all to sit down, “No, not as of yet.” He offered both men a steaming cup of coffee. “No cream and two lumps, Nevil?”

Dr. Maskelyne nodded, surprised Mircea remembered how he took his coffee.

“And plenty of cream for you,” the host smiled brightly as he handed to cup to Father Richards. The old man greedily accepted the proffered coffee and wrapped his spidery fingers around it, desperate for the warmth.

Mircea’s gaze seemed to bore into his very soul, and Dr. Maskelyne nervously sipped at his coffee, silently kicking himself for agreeing to make this house call.

***

The wolf was making a considerable amount of noise in the back seat, Proctor glanced in the rearview mirror again. Cade’s bloodied hand was tightly grasping the back of his head rest. The evil that had once inhabited the young man had been removed, leaving behind a broken shell.

The dark Mercedes came into view, it was quickly closing the distance between them and was soon right on his ass. Proctor grumbled and returned his attention to the road ahead of them. They still had a few miles to travel before they would be home, and he silently hoped she wouldn’t ride him the entire way there.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 27th 2013, 5:47 pm

Abaddon couldn't help but exploit the Mercedes' powerful engine. The sports car was sleek, sexy, and dangerous. Just like Mircea. A small smile touched the corners of her lips as she turned up the custom made Bose stero. Slipknot's Psychosocial blared from the speakers. She was in love with this car and was debating on handing over the keys when the vehicles in dash phone rang. She hit a button on the steering wheel that would answer the call.

"A girl could get used to this car, Mircea." Abaddon all but purred in satisfaction.

"I knew you would. I had it custom built for you in mind. Consider it yours." He repiled with a delighted smile on his wickedly beautiful face.

"Mircea," She couldn't help her own grin from spreading. "I love you."

"I love you too. How long until you get home?"

"We're enroute now. ETA about twenty minutes."

"ETA? You're sounding more like a cop." He sighed softly. "I though about your request for the Court. While I would prefer you to not put yourself at risk, you are damned good at what you do. It would be a shame if we did not utilize those talents and so I put a call in. The Court has approved and want you to lead their new police force."

Abaddon was stunned into silence. "I don't know what to say, Mircea. Thank you just doesn't seem to cover it."

"You can thank me later." He replied with a wicked grin that matched his even more wicked looks. "You meet with the Court in the morning."

"They certainly don't waste any time, now do they?"

"Especially not when someone is killing off our own kind, no
."

"About that, Mircea." She trailed off for a moment. "We're chasing a Demon. Have you ever heard of The Angelic?"

"Only from what I've read. They're supposed to be a secret sect of War Angels."

"They are. I am their most prized one."

He grew silent.

"Mircea?"
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 27th 2013, 7:53 pm

“Mircea?”

Several moments passed before he was able to collect his scattered thoughts, “Father Richards and Dr. Maskelyne have already arrived and are awaiting your return.” He paused, “We will discuss this later. Alone.”

He gently replaced the receiver without listening to her response. Mircea stood quietly in his office, mulling over the revelation. He suddenly felt betrayed. She had lied to him. He slowly sank into his desk chair, leaning as far back as it would allow. A string of curse words escaped his lips. The realization that he was now dealing with a creature far more powerful than himself was as unnerving as Abaddon’s deception.

The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes, Mircea drifting deeper into thought. His guests, Father Richards and Dr. Maskelyne, had been abandoned in the sitting room, presumably making uneasy conversation in his absence. Always the consummate host, Mircea finally managed to roust himself from his daydreams, and slowly made his way back downstairs.

***

A soft chime sounded, and Mircea quickly stood, “Ah, they have returned.” He ducked out of the room to open the gate for Proctor and Abaddon, returning a moment later. “Nevil, your patient will be escorted in momentarily. Please follow Proctor and he will ensure that you receive all of the necessary supplies.”

Dr. Maskelyne nodded and stood, “What are the extent of the injuries?”

Mircea, his expression conveying cold indifference, replied “I do not know the extent, but I trust your judgment.” He gestured toward the door, “Do remember that I am buying your silence in addition to your medical expertise.”

A chill ran up and down Dr. Maskelyne’s spine, “Yes, of course. I understand.” A lump formed in his throat.

The front door swung open with a bang and Proctor barreled across the threshold, Cade dangling in his arms. Mircea pointed down the hallway, “Take him to the first bedroom, the good doctor will instruct you further.”

The manservant nodded and disappeared down the hall, Dr. Maskelyne on his heels.

Mircea waited quietly for Abaddon to enter, his expression unreadable, “Father Richards is in the sitting room, awaiting your instructions.” He stepped aside, allowing her to pass. He turned his head, “I will leave you to it. If there is anything you require, Proctor will get it for you.”

With that, he retreated down the hall, disappearing around a corner.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 27th 2013, 8:57 pm

Her heart felt heavy as she entered the foyer. The tension between her and Mircea only seemed to grow heavier. She hadn't lied to just him, but to everyone. Not even Cade knew. He was the very first person she had ever told and he gave her the cold shoulder as if she had become some kind of leper. She was not going to let her heart be broken, not again. If he didn't want her after this, then so be it. It was his loss. Though it would pain her greatly, perhaps weaken her in a way, Abaddon would do what ever she needed to in order to ensure the saftey of the City and it's people. Humans, Shifters,Vampires. It didn't matter what they were. She had sworn to protect them.

"Father Richards." Abaddon greeted as she stepped into the sitting room. "Thank you for coming so quickly. Allow me to get directly to the point." She pulled out the small vial that held the metal fragment she had collected from the ruined SUV and handed it to the priest.

"We're dealing with a high ranking general here, Father. He can pass as an invisible dark entity or even manifest into a solid figure. He is powerful and dangerous. He destroyed Mircea's Mentor Edward and nearly killed Cade the local Werewolf Alpha. Vampires can not be possessed but Shifters and anyone else can. We need to do a full cleansing on Cade. There is still taint in his body."

"Is it the same one?" The Father inquired, his voice thick with a heavy Irish accent.

"I believe so. This same Demon attacked my family and nearly killed me when I was eight. He came after me again when I was twelve when my powers began to manifest and I think he did so out of fear, fear that I would one day track him down."

"I think it's more than that, Abaddon." Father Richards interrupted her train of thought as he studied the metal fragment inside the vial. "I've been doing some research, reading up on the old legends and myths of The Angelic. There is a rumor, a Prophecy that a child would be born of light and dark that would bring about the destruction of evil."

"What does that have to do with me, Father?"

He gave a somewhat watered down smile. "You are in a relationship with the Vampire, are you not?"

"If you could call it that at the moment. I believe he is quite miffed with me at this moment."

"And yet, you carry his child."

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 27th 2013, 10:01 pm

Father Richards held up the vial and gently shook it, the metal fragment bounced around inside, “This is the least of your worries at the moment.” He pointed to her flat stomach, “If the rumors are indeed true, the child growing inside of you could tip the scales in our favor. We are fighting a losing battle, Abaddon.” He paused, closing his eyes for a moment. “The life you are creating will be powerful enough to bring the Lord’s Light to every corner of this world.” He cleared his throat, slipping the vial into his heavy overcoat, “Assuming that you can keep Mircea from influencing his own child.”

Father Richards leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “Mircea must not know that you are expecting. He embodies everything that is dark, perhaps not true evil, but he is an abomination in God’s eyes. You must leave this place and have your child somewhere safe, raise it, teach it the way of the Light.” He took a breath.

“I must take my leave,” the elderly priest rose suddenly, “Think about what I have told you, child. You know where to find me once you have made your decision.” He performed the Sign of the Cross in the air above her head, “You now have the power to close the gates of Hell forever should you choose to walk in the Light.”

***

Cade let out a pained cry; Dr. Nevil Maskelyne recoiled, glancing at Proctor. The beast of a man hadn’t said a word since he had started treating the patient. He just stood there, staring.

Odd bird, Nevil thought to himself. Turning his attention back to Cade, Nevil finished wrapping his arm. The poor boy had been through the wringer; it looked as though he had been in one incredible fight and lost.

Nevil shut his briefcase, “I’ve patched him up as best as I can.” He handed Proctor a pill bottle, “Give him two of these as needed for the pain.” He glanced down, the patient was drifting in and out of consciousness. “What happened to him anyway?”

Proctor didn’t respond, instead he held out his hand, a thick stack of what appeared to be all one hundred dollar bills was shoved under the doctor’s nose.

“Ah yes,” Nevil eagerly snatched up the proffered payment, “Thank you.” He tucked the money inside of his coat, placing his hat atop his head, eager to escape the castle and the freak show that took place inside.

“Lead the way, my good man,” Nevil smiled at Proctor, relieved to finally be leaving.

***

Concealed in the shadows, Mircea watched the old priest take his leave. At the door, Father Richards turned and bade Abaddon goodbye one last time before disappearing into the late afternoon sunlight. She shut the door behind him, a concerned look marred her beautiful features.

Mircea’s heart ached for her; he loved her deeply, but still felt the intense sting of her deception. He waited until she had moved away from the door before he emerged from the darkness. Their eyes met. Did she believe he was evil? Would she hide her pregnancy from him for fear that he would corrupt their child? It was as much his child as it was hers.

“Come,” he gently took her arm, leading her to their bedroom. They needed privacy.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 27th 2013, 11:18 pm

Abaddon sighed softly. She didn't see Mircea, nor the Vampire race as an abomination. They were people. They loved, felt pain just like everyone else. Just because they needed blood to survive did not make them monsters. Monsters came in all sorts of races. She had witnessed Humans doing unspeakable things and some did it simply because they enjoyed inflicting harm on others. Who was she to judge? She was a warrior, nothing more. Someone had to have created the different races. A genetic mutation perhaps, or a fluke that God threw down upon man to test their wills. She wasn't sure which was true, no one did really but she believed that everyone was a person not a monster until they showed her otherwise. She had witnessed monsters first hand and whatever Mircea was, he was not evil. Abaddon had a sixth sense for that sort of thing afterall.

Still lost deeply in thought, thinking about what Father Richards had told her, she allowed Mircea to lead her to their bedroom. Once inside, she sat down on the edge of the bed, sitting almost rigid.

"Before you speak, allow me to explain." She said softly, finally tilting her head up enough for her smokey grey eyes to latch onto his. "I didn't tell you because no one is really supposed to know we exist. If they knew, then the balance would falter. We are not just keepers of balance, we are also warriors. Beings who are trained and given abilities to fight that which is truly evil. Demonic beings have been influencing man since before recorded history and we have been there, always battling. When my mother was pregnant with me, Father Richards spoke with her. He told her that I was marked."

Abaddon slid her jacket off of her shoulders and let it fall almost lazily to the floor. She pulled back each sleeve of her shirt to reveal the white tattoos of wings on the inside of each wrist. "These are not merely decoration. I was born with the markings of The Angelic. My parents kept it hidden away from family and friends. They were the ones who told me to keep it a secret. They said if anyone knew what I was, I would be in even more danger."

She trailed off for a moment, taking a deep and steadying breath. "The creature that slaughtered them was no Shifter. It was a Demon. The same Demon that killed Edward and possessed Cade. He came after me when I was twelve. I had just came into my abilities. I had no mentor and I knew nothing about Exorcism. I did the only thing that I could. I ran. I don't know what called me to it, but I ran to the Sanguine Catholic Church. To Father Richards; better known as Gabriel. He took me in and banished the Demon. When he found out who and what I was, he sent me to the Vatican to train."

Abaddon looked back up into his face, her pale eyes nearly pleading for him to understand why she chose to keep her nature a secret. "When I returned, I started hunting. I've got the highest kill count. Even higher than our leader Michael. I believe he's got about a little over 800. I have over 1,000. Hunting Demons, Magick, and thinking like a cop is pretty much all I know."

She finally stood and walked towards him. She stopped just mere inches in front of him and framed his face with her hands. "I wanted to tell you for so long but I didn't know how to bring it up. I never meant to decieve you in any way, Mircea." She paused for a moment, her eyes searching his. "I can not love that which is evil. You are not evil, Mircea. I love you and I love the life that we have created, the life that has yet to be born and love by both of it's parents."

_________________
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 28th 2013, 1:30 pm

The sincerity in her eyes, the warmth of her touch, had melted any remaining reservations in his mind. He closed his eyes, nuzzling against her hands. She had been forthright, confessing her deepest secrets, trusting him. Mircea’s arms snaked around her, drawing Abaddon against his chest.

“I let my pride govern my actions,” he pressed his lips to her forehead, “I am so very sorry for not trusting you.” He held her closely, reluctant to end the moment. “Father Richards will, undoubtedly, come for our child. We must do everything in our power to protect what is rightfully ours.”

His expression darkened, “No matter the cost.”

***

It was as though his body was no longer his own, something was forcing him to move down the vacant hallway. Cade’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he dropped to the floor. But somehow, he continued forward, crawling on his hands and knees, using his broken arm despite the pain.

The doorway came into focus; he instinctively knew he had to enter the library. There was something - he didn’t know what - hidden amongst the thousands of tomes that needed to be destroyed. A dark force was urging him forward, through the opened door, toward the furthest wall. He could suddenly feel the black energy pulsing through the air as he neared his target.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 28th 2013, 11:16 pm

Abaddon nodded once in response to Mircea’s commentary. He was right. Gabriel would come for the child. He had been her Mentor for years and a good friend. He should have trusted her to make sure that her own child would be safe. He didn’t trust her it seemed. Just as she was about to open her mouth to make some kind of snappy and witty comeback about Father Richards, her spidey sense went haywire. The feeling of evil crept up around her, causing her large spectral wings to flash bright white for a brief moment. Before she could inform Mircea of what she had sensed, she was moving with preternatural speed that put most Shifters to shame. She moved like lightning, weaving her way automatically through the halls until she came to the library where it’s presence was the strongest.

The gun was in her hand without even her having to think about it. The safety was off and she didn’t even remember doing it. It’s silver sheen glinted in the firelight that still danced within the room.

Move another inch, Demon, and I will put a bullet in your Host’s head.”

There was a trickle of laughter that came from it’s mouth. It was Cade’s body it was inhabitating, but it certainly didn’t look like him. His eyes were black, a pitch so dark it flickered with the flames of Hell itself. The veins beneath his skin were just as dark with corruption. She could catch a faint glimpse of razor sharp teeth both top and bottom that put a Vampire’s and even a Werewolf’s fangs to shame.

I doubt you would pull the trigger, Abaddon.” It’s voice didn’t even sound like Cade’s. It was deeper, echoing with pure evil.

I am pretty sure; knowing Cade, that he would forgive me. I’m pretty sure he would rather die than let a creature like you use his body.”

Just do it, Abaddon!” The voice that called out for an instant was Cade’s. The Demon shook it’s head, regaining control of it’s host. “He is a strong one. He fights me even now. Perhaps it is because he is Wolf. He is just as strong willed as you are.”

The creature smiled as Mircea stepped behind her. She felt his presence at her back.

It is a shame that we can not possess Vampires. I would love to test give him a test drive. I would enjoy taking you with his body, Abaddon.”

A sense of dread began to creep through the room, but her power flared, chasing it back almost instantly.

You have been trained since last we met, young one. Though I had hoped you would have bled out. However, I am glad you have not. You will be my new play thing I think. I would so enjoy taking you with this body, Angelic.” The Demon reached down and crudely grabbed his crotch, rubbing himself as if he were enjoying the visual in his head. “It would seem the Wolf would agree. He may deny it, but he has a very aggressive appetite. One that you only barely caught a glimpse of.”
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 29th 2013, 9:42 am

He had followed her in such a hurry, that he had neglected to select a weapon. Mircea found himself helpless against the intruder, unable to protect his lover and their child. He remained silent, refusing to participate in the dark tête-à-tête. His thoughts were going a mile a minute as he frantically searched for a solution. His house was well equipped to fend off human, Shifters, and even Vampires, but daemons were another beast entirely. He had no defense.

Cade’s lips twisted into a terrible grin, his black eyes fixating on the vampire, “Could you give us a moment, Mircea?” He tilted his head to the side, “Abaddon and I have some unfinished business to attend to.” With the flick of its wrist, the daemon sent Mircea flying backwards across the hall. He slammed against the cobbled wall, the air knocked from his lungs. He slid to the floor as the library’s door closed forcefully.

Mircea was on his feet a moment later, banging his shoulder against the solid wood, “Open the door, you fiend!” He took a step backwards and charged again, “Abaddon!”

***

The daemon moved swiftly across the room, relieving Abaddon of her weapon. The pistol hit the floor and slid well out of reach, “Ah, finally, alone at last.” He hissed, wrapping his powerful arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. He bit her hard, drawing blood, as he pressed Cade’s arousal against her.

“You like that, don’t you?” He whispered in her ear, “You love it when he bites you.” He ran his tongue over the fresh wound. His fingers tangled in her hair, and he grabbed a handful, pulling her head backwards, exposing her neck. “You know, Cade has imagined this. He thinks about fucking you all of the time.” The daemon roughly forced her toward the drawing table and bent her over it. “He wants this as much as I do.”

He held her head down, her cheek pressed against the splintered wood, her arms pinned in front of her. He pressed Cade’s body against hers, grinding. Fingers ran up and down her back, finally stopping at her waistband. The daemon paused, and looked toward the door. He growled.

“Pity, our fun was just beginning,” He leaned forward, pressing Cade’s lips against her ear, “Remember this, Angelic, I can have you whenever I please. You are weak in my presence.”

Cade stepped back and let out a pained screech; bending forward, he vomited the daemon. A gray mist, as thick as oil, spewed from his lips and disappeared underneath the floor boards. He fell backwards, completely spent.

With a loud bang, the library’s door exploded into millions of splinters. Mircea, followed closely by Proctor, entered the room, weapons at the ready. His training had taken over and Proctor instinctively cleared the room, sawed off shotgun still smoking. Mircea quickly moved to Abaddon’s side.

“Are you hurt?” he placed his handgun on the table and pulled her close, looking her over.

“Shit, its me,” Cade cried out as Proctor pointed the business end of his weapon against the wolf’s temple. “The daemon left.”
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 29th 2013, 11:59 am

She didn’t want to hurt Cade. She never had wanted to hurt him, but she didn’t love him. At least, she didn’t think she did. She cared about him, sure. Cared about what happened to him, about his well being. She wanted him happy. Abaddon told herself she didn’t want to hurt him because she cared about him as a friend, but was that really all she felt for him? If only she had the honest answer.

You disgust me, Demon.” Abaddon growled out, even as her face was pressed againt the splintered wood of the drawing table. “I know it was you who murdered my family. And I will find a way to destroy you. You may think I am weak, that you have me cornered but you have no idea who you’re fucking with now, asshole.”

Then, the creature stepped back and Cade let out a scream as he vomited the think oily substance of the Demon. It sank into the floorboards and the presence of evil disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared. Abaddon’s knees buckled and she sank to the floor in a semi crumbled heap. With a loud bang, the library door exploded into millions of tiny splinters. Mircea sweapt into the room, followed at his heels by Proctor. Both had weapons drawn, but it was a bit too late. The creature was gone.

The Vampire all but picked her up, cradling her gently as he looked her over. “Are you hurt?” Came his concerned voice, but it sounded somewhat further away than it should have been.

Shaking her head faintly, Abaddon glance up and into his dark eyes. Her smokey grey ones reflected back fear and near panic, but it was quickly replaced by anger. An anger that could make her reckless if she wasn’t careful.

I’m alright.” She replied, resting her head against Mircea’s chest for a moment. She could hear the rapid beating of his heart, knowing that it was partly due to her blood that made it beat. “We need to cleanse the house. Holy water, lots of holy water. I need you, Mircea, to call people that you trust. We’re going to need help holding Cade down.”

For what?” The Wolf asked. He sounded so tired.

An exorcism.”

_________________
Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 29th 2013, 1:37 pm

“I don’t know what it wanted,” Cade had been pinned to the bed. Still weak from the possession, he offered little resistance. He relaxed his muscles, allowing the pale creatures to adjust their positions. “It wanted something in that library. Something it was terrified of,” he offered, wincing as the vampire - he heard Mircea refer to her as Adora - dug her nails into his broken arm. She smiled at him, as though she didn’t realize she was hurting him.

“It gave you no indication as to what it was after?” Mircea’s voice came from somewhere in the room, there were too many people surrounding the bed, Cade couldn’t see through them.

“No,” he wheezed, “Whatever it is, it’s in your library, somewhere along the back wall.” Cade closed his eyes, “At least that’s where the daemon was forcing me to go.”

“What do you have hidden in the walls at that end of the library?” Another immortal, this one pinning Cade’s shoulders to the pillow, address the Master Vampire.

“Nothing,” Mircea’s response was swift, “That wall is solid.” A few moments passed, all eyes appeared to be on Mircea. “I trust that you have this under control, my love.”

Cade heard the door whisper open then softly shut.

“He was certainly in a rush to leave,” Adora mumbled. The vampires exchanged worried looks.  “Can we get this over with?” she turned her attention toward Abaddon.

Proctor handed the War Angel a tattered Bible, a blank expression on his face.

***

He ran his fingers along the shelves, his eyes quickly scanning the book titles. Nothing seemed out of place; he couldn’t understand why the daemon had been so interested in his collection. His books, though they numbered in the hundreds of thousands, made up a relatively innocuous assemblage. Over the centuries, he had managed to acquire several oddities, but he couldn’t think of anything in his collection that would terrify an evil entity. Perhaps Cade had been mistaken, or even lying, when he indicated the library as the daemon’s target location.

Mircea continued walking along the back wall, scanning several levels of shelves at once, quickly running out of places to look. Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, the flesh bound book stuck out like a sore thumb. The wrinkled binding called out to him, and he reached up, plucking it from its home.

The pages were hand written; it had served as a journal hundreds of years ago. The author’s personal thoughts forever preserved on the tattered pages. Mircea had acquired it only a few years back at an estate sale, and had placed it on the shelf without thoroughly reading it first. He had leafed through it, finding the musings to be less than invigorating, and had simply retired the old book without giving it a second thought.

It smelled sour, a combination of cured meat and something acidic. He brought the book to his nose.

“I wonder,” he mumbled aloud as he tentatively flipped through the pages. Mircea moved swiftly across the room, a dying fire still flickered in the nearest hearth. He knelt, ripping the first page free from the flesh binding. He held it over the flames, far enough away that it wouldn’t catch, and quietly watched as unfamiliar characters slowly appeared on the page, underneath the visible writings.

“How droll,” he smiled. The entire book concealed a secret message in a language he did not know. The swirling delicate characters had been written using lemon juice, a poor man’s invisible ink; they became visible when heated, slowly changing into a rich caramel color that overtook the secondary musings.

Mircea heated several more pages, placing them side by side to cool. After nearly thirty pages had been placed into neat rows, he noticed the pattern. The pages had been written individually, but when placed together, created a large picture. It was a puzzle. Mircea continued heating the pages, placing them where the lines overlapped. The puzzle grew larger. A crude drawing of what appeared to be a werewolf revealed itself along with row after row of writing. He continued, soon piecing together a large sketch of what appeared to be an angel, feathered wings splayed out across several pages. Underneath, the elegant characters spelled out information, presumably about the Angelic Order.

Mircea, sitting close to the fire, heated several more pages, lining them along the bottom of the puzzle. A daemonic form, surrounded by Hellfire, appeared. The writing below it, while still in the same foreign hand, had lost its elegance. It appeared that the author had been either rushed or terrified when they penned the last entry. The swirling characters were barely readable, and lacked any semblance of finesse.

Mircea tilted his head to one side, the empty book cover dangling from his fingers. What the hell did this all mean?
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 29th 2013, 9:15 pm

Abaddon’s gaze as it shifted to the Vampire named Adora was less than friendly.

What I am about to do is not going to be a pleasant experience for anyone. But especially for Cade. It will take several hours to ensure that he is free of all corruption and influence from the Demon. If you are so damned impatient, Adora, perhaps you should leave.”

Adora; who had once been a rival for Mircea’s affectioned, had the sense to look ashamed. “I’m sorry Abaddon, but knowing there is a creature out there powerful enough to possess an Alpha Werewolf is not comforting.”

I understand, but Vampires for some reason can not be possessed. You are safe.”

The other woman looked releaved. Abaddon stepped up beside the bed in which Cade was being held down upon. “Are you ready?” She inquired, her hand hovering just above his head. She had tried to prepare him for what was about to happen, but words would never do justice on how much agony he would be in.

Cade nodded weakly, glad that she was here. Although she would be the one to perform the exorcism, he was releaved it was her and not some stranger.

Remember what I told everyone. Do not interrupt me no matter what you see or hear. I will tell you when it is over. If anyone of you can not handle this, tell Proctor and he will take your place. If more of you must leave, than I will help hold him down and finish what I started.”

We’re Vampires, Abaddon, I think we can handle it.” This came from the blonde Vampire named Sebastian.

I wouldn’t count on it. What you will see will be nothing like you have ever seen before.”

Within that, the exorcism began.


---

I see you have found De Occulta Philosophia libri III.” Came a soft, feminine voice from behind Mircea. The creature it belonged to was almost as tall as he, nearly  six foot, tall for a woman. Long, flaming red hair tumbled down her back in tight spiral curls to stop just behind her knees. Lavender eyes were a startling shape, exotic and nearly breath taking. She stepped into view, holding up her hands as if in surrender.

I did not mean to come into your home uninvited. I mean you and Abaddon no harm. Allow me to introduce myself.” She extended a hand in the Vampire’s direction. “My name is Uriel, and like Abaddon, I am one of The Angelic. Unlike Gabriel, however, I think it best if the both of you protect that child and I have come to lend my services.”

---

Screams echoed off the walls, loud enough to be heard even outside of the castle. They were the screams of a man in sheer agony. It took the strength of several Master level Vampires to hold the Alpha in place, to keep him from ripping at his own skin. Proctor was added into the mix, pinning Cade’s wrists to keep him from gouging at anyone within close proximity. Abaddon had once witnessed a young girl ripping off hunks of her own skin just to get the burning pain to stop. It had been a sight she had never forgotten. Though it hurt her heart to watch him go through this pain, she had to continue in order to save him, and perhaps to save herself. If she didn’t rid him of this corruption, she would be forced to kill him. That was something she wasn’t sure she could go through with.

Abaddon continued to speak verses from the Bible in Latin. Her voice rang loud and clear even over Cade’s screams.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 30th 2013, 9:53 am

Mircea slowly rose, taking the proffered hand. Her grip was white hot lightning, searing into his flesh. He instinctively recoiled, surprised by the surge of energy. Uriel smiled, her face aglow. He was mesmerized by her ethereal beauty and grace, watching her study the displayed pages with great interest. Minutes ticked by before he found his voice once more.

“I have a grimoire?” he tore his gaze from the angel and looked down. The swirling characters were unreadable to him, foreign, but he now understood that they spelled out instructions - as most spell books did - for how to ‘manage’ other worldly creatures.

“You have the grimoire,” Uriel corrected, she waved a hand over the pages, the letters suddenly glowed. Mircea instinctively drew back. “Written by Abaddon herself before her fall from grace.”

Mircea’s eyes snapped up, “Her fall from grace?”

Uriel withdrew her hand and the pages disappeared from the floor, “She penned the Libri hundreds of thousands of years ago, when humanity was still in its infancy.” Uriel clasped her hands in front of her, “She knew of Satan’s jealousy and his plans to betray our Father, and so she wrote these instructions in hopes of giving humanity a fighting chance.” A book, this one bound in supple engraved leather, suddenly appeared in Uriel’s hands. She offered Mircea the book, and after a moment’s hesitation he took it.

“God saw her actions as dangerous,” Uriel continued, “He thought she had betrayed her own kind by making our weaknesses known.”

Mircea opened the book, the musings had been translated into Latin, a language Mircea understood all too well. “The original writings were in a language I’ve never seen before,” he glanced up at Uriel.

She smiled and nodded, “The Angelic have their own alphabet.”

Mircea began to read the section marked Djinn, a smile formed on his lips, “Genies exist?” No response.

He glanced up, suddenly finding himself alone once again.

***

Cade was in agony, it felt as though he were burning alive. He cried out, begging Abaddon to stop. Her words bouncing off of the walls around him, echoing in his mind. His muscles seized and he struggled against those who held him down. He felt bile rise in his throat and he began to choke.

Cold fingers pushed passed his lips, forcing his jaws open. He gagged and tried to turn his head, but they continued until they grazed the back of his throat, scooping the black bile from his airways.

A rush of air filled his lungs and Cade thankfully gulped it in. His body relaxed and he began to feel a weight lift from him, as though the dark gloom was dissipating.

“I think you did it,” Adora sounded so far away.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head as the exhaustion finally took its toll. He croaked her name, his beloved Abaddon had saved him.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 30th 2013, 5:56 pm

Six hours. It had taken six hours for her to finish the exorcism. She was just as exhausted as Cade. The moment everyone cleared out of the room, she checked him just one more time to ensure all corruption was gone. When his veins no longer turned black, she knew she had succeeded.  Beside the bed, she left a note with instructions on how he could further protect himself from future attacks.

Cade,

There is alot you do not know, or perhaps don’t understand. I am not your typical War Mage. That is merely a cover story, as I am sure you have guessed by now. I am what is known as The Angelic. We are Humans infused with the life force of Angels. Hence my name, Abaddon. We are warriors sent down to Earth in order to protect the Human race, to assist in the battle against creatures far more powerful and dangerous than any Vampire or Shifter known to man. We are a secret sect, though now quite a hanful know my true nature. Mircea was one of the first to understand what I am. You are now the second that I have told my secrets to. The creature that attacked my family was not a Shifter, but a Demon. The same Demon that attached itself to you.

Along with this letter are two necklaces. One a platinum cross that has been blessed by the most powerful exorcist in recorded history. The other is a small platinum vial filled with holy water. Since you can not wear silver, platinum is the next best thing. It is a nearly unbreakable metal and it is still pure enough to ensure that a Demon can not touch it. There is also a business card with the number of a very good tattoo artist. Tank is no ordinary artist, he is a wardsmith that poses as a bouncer for Lunar. I am sure you know him. He has been my tattoo artist for years and I think it would be wise to repair your aura with what he can offer. The choice in design is yours, of course, but I recommend something that would ward off any Demonic attack. I ask that you call Tank as soon as you wake up and tell him I sent you. Knowing him, he probably won’t charge you anything. If he does, it would more than likely be some small favor he will call you on later down the road.

Please heed my advice. It will save your life, and your soul.

- Abaddon


The letter she did not place in an envelope, but simply folded it and set it on the table beside his bed.

I am utterly wiped.” She mentioned out loud as she entered the bedroom that she and Mircea shared. Stripping off her clothing as she made her way towards the bathroom, Abaddon was desperate to get clean. She felt dirty. She always did after dealing with Demons. There was always an oily, sticky feeling that followed.

The hot steam that quickly filled the bathroom was like a security blanket. She felt safe and secure once she stepped beneath that heavenly hot spray of water.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   November 30th 2013, 9:52 pm

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Mircea followed his lover’s scent through the quiet halls. He was unsure of the number of hours that had passed since he had been visited by Uriel. He had fallen asleep at some point which momentarily threw off his sense of time. Before nodding off though, he had spent the day reading Abaddon’s Libri, finding himself completely enthralled by her writings. Her work had been honest and eloquently written, describing many supernatural creatures and how they could be destroyed. She had even included a section on angels and demons, putting herself in grave danger should the wrong person possess the book.

Mircea had newfound respect for Abaddon. The bravery that it must have taken for her to defy God and put her own eternal life in jeopardy was more than he could ever muster. She was remarkable to say the least.

He soon found himself entering his bedroom, the lazy fire crackled on the grate, casting shadows on the walls. Abaddon’s clothing had been carelessly dropped on the floor outside of the bathroom, and he could hear the shower running behind the closed door.

He knelt and hurriedly concealed the book inside of a locked cabinet, slipping the key back into its hiding spot nearby. Rising, he unbuttoned his shirt and entered the bathroom, dropping it onto the floor. Steam filled the room, and the steady stream of water drummed out a soothing beat.

Mircea stood against the closed bathroom door, watching her silhouette move behind the frosted glass. He felt a familiar stirring below his waistband, and his hand slid down the front of his trousers. He slowly rubbed himself over his clothing, watching her hands slide up and down her body as she slowly washed herself. An excited moan escaped his lips.

His pants were growing uncomfortably tight as his arousal increased, and he quickly slipped out of them. He approached the glass slowly, not wanting to startle her, and gently rapped on the shower’s door.

It slid open, revealing Abaddon’s naked body. Water streamed over her curves in steady rivulets, and her long hair was plastered to her glistening skin. Without waiting for a proper invitation, Mircea entered, sliding the glass shut behind him. He forced her backwards, up against the warm tiles. He kissed her, his hungry mouth nearly devouring hers. He guided her hand to his engorged member, pressing himself against her.

Mircea gasped, momentarily breaking their kiss, “I need you.” He was panting, shuddering at her touch. He trailed kisses across her cheek, down to her neck, but he quickly moved back to her lips. Mircea wanted to drain her, but he purposefully stopped himself, marshaling his innate desires. The delicious torture that came from denying himself a drink enhanced the pleasure.

The hot water beat down on his back, warming his cold skin. He rested his forehead atop her shoulder, rocking his hips back and forth as she held him.

“Good girl,” he hissed, as she stroked him to full arousal, “Now on your knees.” He was forceful, playing on her secret need to be dominated. Mircea enjoyed watching her submit to him; she looked vulnerable, no longer the powerful Fallen Angel. Their first night together had been wonderful, but it had happened too quickly. Mircea hadn’t allowed himself enough time to truly enjoy her body, but he would make up for that tonight. She was his plaything now.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   December 1st 2013, 11:46 am

The feel of the black marble tile as it pressed against her back was cooler than the near scalding heat of the water, or the blaze of heat that seemed to be radiating off of Mircea’s skin. The urgency of his words as he claimed he needed her sent her heart racing, beating almost frantically within her chest.

I always need you.” She said softly, her voice just barely above a whisper. Her fingers closed firmly yet gently around his growing arousal. There was something powerful about holding that delicate, sensitive flesh in her hands. And that power only grew as Abaddon sank slowly to her knees in front of him. She watched the expression on Mircea’s face as she knelt there, the sinful warmpth of her mouth just mere inches from the very tip of that hardened flesh she held in her hands. Slowly, her lips parted allowing the tip of her tongue to swirl teasingly and lazily along his engorged skin. Her eyes never left his face and the look in those smokey grey eyes of hers certainly clarified the defination of “bedroom eyes”.

Without a word, her hand gripped the base of him just as her lips enveloped that hardened flesh, her mouth working slowly over every inche of him until her lips met her fingers. Her throat relaxed and she took him even deeper. She watched his eyes flutter closed as her throat convulsed around him. She watched the sheer tourtured look on his face as she slowly pulled back until he was almost free from her mouth’s embrace. Just before she pulled away completely, she slid him back inside the tight, hot cavern of her mouth in one smooth and quick gesture. She continued for sometime; slowly out then quickly back in, until he was all but begging her to stop.
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PostSubject: Re: Bloodshot   December 1st 2013, 5:27 pm

“Enough,” he barely managed. Mircea, bracing himself against the ceramic tiles, shuddered. “Enough,” his voice clear and strong; she was driving him mad, bringing him to the brink of a powerful release. Her grip loosened, and he pulled himself from her capable mouth. She looked up at him with her big innocent gray eyes, her lips hovering so closely to his swollen phallus.

Mircea stepped back, his chest heaving, “Stand, quickly.” He helped Abaddon to her feet and hurriedly pushed his hand between her legs. He steadied her against the cool tiles once more, staring into her eyes as he slid his fingers along her quivering sex. His thumb rubbed against her swollen bud, “Shut up.” He pressed his lips against hers, stifling her moans. He was excited at being in control, if only for the night, and forced his tongue passed her lips. She was leaning heavily against the shower wall, his fingers teasing, never fully penetrating her. He pulled his mouth from hers, and slid his hand away.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled softly, taking a moment to admire her voluptuous figure. He leaned forward, gently kissing her exposed breasts, his hands wrapped around her narrow waist, keeping her pinned against the tiles. He opened his mouth, drawing in a stiff nipple. He slurped noisily, glancing up at Abaddon before moving to her other breast.

Mircea finally knelt before her, his hands on her hips. He looked up at her and smiled mischievously. He could feel her tremble as he began to kiss her upper thighs, coaxing her legs apart slightly. His hands slid down and roughly grasped her outer thighs, his tongue darting out and swirling around her rigid button. She shivered, encouraging him. Mircea moved forward, sliding his wet tongue between her swollen lips. He held her firmly, enjoying the soft mews that she made every time he licked her sweet spot.

He groaned, feeling his arousal throb between his legs; he was ready to release, but he held back, desperate to drag this moment out for as long as he could. His nails dug into her hot flesh, he could feel her nearing her own finish; his tongue pushed upwards, passed her sensitive folds - penetrating her. He pulled back, giving her a moment to collect herself before he pressed his face against her once more and roughly pushed his tongue inside of her.
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