Nos Faux Ratu Ch. 03

"Oh no, not at the Stone Table," Anabella had told her. "Don't even mention that to Nessa. She might lose that five-star status if one of the delivery guys show up in anything less than tux, so there was a definite dress code. And that literally meant a dress. Jenna did not own a dress, therefore asked to be excused. No dice.

And as it turned out, personal grooming had long ago failed to be a priority for Jenna, something which Nessa found unacceptable. She was given some hair removal cream and sent to the shower, while Nessa would have her guest a new dress sent over. Jenna wanted to object, and then wanted to know how Nessa knew here measurements. One look at that saucy vixen's face, and Jenna swallowed her objections and headed to the shower. At least Nessa did not insist on joining her there. Her boss was . . . clingy. She was also stunning in a tight red dress that was cut low enough to entice but not to offend. Much.

The end result was Jenna, stuck into a blue designer dress that fit her like a glove, was tasteful, and made the Nightwalker incredibly uncomfortable.

"Where do I put my gun?" she asked.

"You don't need a gun," Nessa replied. "Security at the Stone Table is exemplary. I eat there after all, and it would do no good to have me being killed and all." She saw a distressed look on Jenna's face, so she forced a sigh. "Okay, get a shoulder holster and I'll find a dinner jacket to go with it. Which is a shame, because you have very shapely shoulders. And your neck is --"

"I'll take the jacket," Jenna replied. Her neck tingled when Nessa looked at it. Or talked about it. Jenna was pretty sure it tingled when her boss thought about it.

Then Jenna, Anabella, Avery, and Nessa went off to the restaurant, with Avery driving of course. It was the most ridiculously posh place that Jenna had ever seen. Nessa almost had to restrain her from breaking someone's arm when he offered to take her jacket.

"Please don't," Nessa told her. "The maitre d' is a werecat and a model employee."

"Werecat?"

"He's can change into a lion. I have five werecats working here, two dragons . . . they can take human form, so stop looking around . . . a plethora of spell-casters, and a weaver."

"Weaver?"

"Yeah, the chef is a spider-like . . . thing. You really have to meet Claude to understand."

Dinner was extravagant. Jenna was used to food coming in bar and supplement form, and it had been a long time since she had eaten food simply to enjoy eating.

"Seriously?" Nessa looked perplexed that after staring at a menu for twenty minutes. "You have no idea?"

"I don't know what any of this is," Jenna replied, frustrated by her apparent inability to find what appetizer she wanted. "Can't I just have what you're having?"

"A glass of blood from a Columbian nun?"

Jenna stared at her. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"I pay a pretty penny to have some shipped in. I have Brazilian dancer on tap, if you prefer."

"Boss," Avery growled, looking towards the door.

They all turned and saw Garon Pegg standing next to the maitre d'. The werelion glanced over his shoulder at Nessa and shrugged.

Garon, Simon, and four others strolled in and stopped at Nessa's table. Everyone stayed seated, though Jenna wanted to stand so she could be ready to throw down.

"I don't recall your name on the guest list," Nessa said calmly. "Actually, I remember banning your name from any guest list."

"Unless you're going to remember the name of every werewolf in this town and ban them all, I'll always have an available spot. Did you get my package?"

"Yes. I find myself cleaning up after you yet again." Nessa could not resist adding, "Of course someone must, as you no longer have a woman around the house to do so."

Jenna watched every muscle in Garon's body tense. "I have long since replaced that bitch." Then he looked at Jenna. "Of course, I could always find a proper replacement," he said, his voice soothing now. "I see that you've upgraded your taste. I think she would look better on my arm than yours. Certainly better than that other hag you hang out with."

Anabella tossed by a shot of Scotch. "Sorry, was the puppy barkin' at me? Where's a rolled up newspaper when I need one?"

Jenna noticed that this time, it was Avery who was tensing up. Apparently, he did not like unkind words being spoken about the banshee.

"Make no mistake," Garon continued, "once I solve this problem, the Council will be forced to acknowledge that you were unable to do your duties as sheriff. Who knows, perhaps they will give me control of the territory as well."

"Never going to happen," Nessa replied. "One, you're an egomaniacal mutt who's bark is much more impressive than your bite." Nessa was counting off on her fingers by that point. "Two, you always underestimate women. Three, I've got resources you can't imagine. Four, my business assets are untouchable, and you know it."

"Yes, but personnel would be transferred to the new sheriff." He looked at Jenna again, devouring her flawless skin and angelic face with his eyes. "I'm sure I could find many positions for some on your staff." He reached his hand out and stroked a strand of Jenna's hair.

She promptly grabbed his hand, put it on the table, and stabbed it with a shrimp fork.

The following chaos had to be broken up by a dozen or so high-powered members of the restaurant staff, as well as by Garon's attendants. It took both Nessa and Anabella to keep Jenna from gouging Garon's eyes out with the broken stem of a wineglass.

"Calm down girl," Nessa whispered as she kept her new employee pinned to the floor. "You know, if you really didn't want to come, you could have just said so."

"He shouldn't have touched me," Jenna hissed.

"You and your new pet will pay dearly for this," Garon snarled as he was escorted out of the restaurant. After a minute, Nessa decided it was safe to let Jenna up. She summoned a waiter over, and quickly spread the word that everyone's meal would be comped for the evening to make up for the distraction. That seemed to alleviate some of the surprise and tension in the room.

Nessa led a flustered Jenna to an office in the back and closed the door. "Okay, as much as I would have liked to do that myself, what were you thinking? We have rules in this world! Etiquette! Now it will look to the council that I can't control my own people."

"They don't even know I exist, so how --"

"I sent a communication last night when you slept. I have a lot riding on you," Nessa said, then she relaxed her tone. "And I really want you to be comfortable within my organization. I need you to control your temper. I've touched you, and you didn't try to kill ME with assorted cutlery."

"You never touched me like that," Jenna said before she lost her nerve.

"Like what?"

"Like I didn't really matter. Like I was just a means to an end."

'Fuck,' Nessa thought. 'She saw him as the Messenger. This is your fault too,' she reminded herself. 'You've let that djinn out of its bottle, so now you have to deal with it.'

"I'm sorry," Jenna was explaining. "I've never lost it like that." Her skin felt flushed with humiliation and anger.

"It's okay. Listen, part of this is my fault. Me probing around in your head probably reminded you of things you otherwise would have left buried. But I think the best thing is to conquer all those things, because you're divided against yourself. When we get back, I want to go in again."

"What?! No! I can't --"

"When was the last time you slept that well?" Nessa asked. "Avery said you looked relatively relaxed when you woke up. When was the last time you ever let anyone in?" She took Jenna's hands gently. "I'm not like them," she said. "I don't want you to hurt. I just want to see what you're capable of. You, together."

Jenna's eyes felt like burning, a sensations she was not familiar with. At least, not anymore. "I just want to sleep without the nightmares," she whispered.

"You will," Nessa replied, brushing a strand of hair away from the woman's face. "See? Letting people touch you isn't so hard. Now lets go back out there, I'll help you find something to eat, and we'll figure out how to make Garon Pegg miserable."

"And stop the slaughter of the Nightwalkers," Jenna replied, smiling just a little bit.

"Young woman, you need to learn to prioritize," Nessa said, taking her companion by the arm and leading her back to the table.

Dinner turned out to be rather productive after their interruption. Jenna had Cornish game hen with some kind of potato side-dish which was not bad at all, and Nessa was afraid she was going to have to pry the chocolate cake away from her new employee's cold dead fingers. Every now and then, Jenna actually seemed like . . . well, a girl.

She was still at her most calm when she was planning. The next night, she was going to be introduced to the rest of the street sweepers, which was slang for Nessa's security forces. Nessa was going to try and find out what her old boss was up to.

"He's got to know that he's outnumbered," she muttered, looking at a map of the city that had been called up on the table display. "And the only place he can get reinforcements is from the DoD. Now, I don't know if he thinks that he's facing one force or two, but my bet is he'll plan for two. We need to find out what he's planning on feeding his superiors, and how that we can interrupt."

"This is a mess," Nessa said sadly. "The whole point was to avoid a conflict just like this."

"We can still contain the fallout," Jenna muttered. "Do we know where Pegg is rallying his forces?"

"Glicker's house. The local pack leader is obligated to host a more dominant wolf. It's their way." Avery rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Is there any chance of a Nightwalker revolt on this one?"

Jenna flushed a bit. She was almost embarrassed to admit it, but, "I don't know. I was apparently not well liked by my peers."

"Who of them do we need to worry about?"

"I don't know. I mean, I doubt Nessa would have many problems with them considering her power."

"I am an anomaly," Nessa said. "I'm one of the oldest of my kind, and there aren't many blood vampires anyway. I'll set up a sparring match with one of the werecats tomorrow for you. They're a little more powerful than the werewolves one on one, but they're pretty much the toughest thing that the Nightwalkers might face."

"Okay, then I'll hazard to guess that any of the Major Arcana will be worth being concerned with, and the Minor Arcana could be if you let them choose their ground. They're still twice as strong and fast as normal people. If you see anyone with a beret on during the fight, that would be the Fool. He's dangerous. Also, if you see someone carrying a noose, be very careful."

"The Hangin' Man?" Anabella asked.

"Yes. You're familiar with the Tarot?"

"Enough ta know that there's power in those names. Did ya know that in the old decks, there weren't always no 'Fool' card?"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think it was the Italians that had a card in its place called 'The Traitor.' Not a good sign, though the Fool trumps everything."

"And you were . . .?" Avery asked, letting his voice trail off.

"The Empress," she responded, more than a little wistful.

"Well now you're Jenna Owens. I think that's a pretty good title as well," Nessa added, raising her glass.

They toasted, but Jenna's mind was on track. "Hanged Man is the enforcer for the Nightwalkers. Rank was given based on how much bioengineering a participant was able to endure. The Hanged Man scares the other Nightwalkers."

"Good to know," Nessa said. They spent the next hour planning and dining, then they headed back to Devil's Night.

Jenna was not sure what was supposed to happen. She half-wanted to go back to her church and the familiar protections it offered, but half of her . . . that half craved the deep, restful sleep that she had enjoyed last night. How sad was it that sleeping without nightmares could mean so much?

Avery and Anabella made themselves scarce as soon as they got back to the club. Jenna wanted to go to the bar to get coffee. Nessa raised an eyebrow and pulled her towards the stairs.

"Shouldn't we patrol? Pegg is going to be on a warpath --"

"You stabbed him with a silver fork. He'll have silver poisoning for the next few days, so he's not doing anything."

"But we should look in on the Nightwalkers --"

"I've had their base watched since you told me where it is. Looks like they're getting ready to scramble."

"It's a defensive protocol. I've got a number of possible back-up locations memorized --"

"They'll pick someplace new because you've been compromised." Nessa stood very close to Jenna, but did not touch her. She was giving her a way out if she really wanted to take it. "I'm not like them," she whispered warmly. "I won't force you to do anything. I won't hurt you. I won't take more than you are willing to offer. I promise you that."

If Jenna had not had a physical recently, she would have thought something was wrong with her heart. It was going far to fast, even for a rabbit on cocaine.

"Why are you so afraid of me?"

"Why aren't you afraid of me?" Jenna replied. "People around me die."

"I'm already dead," Nessa reminded her. "Sort of. And I've seen things a lot more worthy of fear than a beautiful woman in a sexy dress who can wage war with cutlery. Actually, that last part is kind of scary." Nessa was shocked when she saw Jenna's mouth curl up just a little as she attempted to suppress a smile.

Nessa led Jenna by the hand into the darkness of her apartment. Suddenly, the fireplace flickered to life.

"Magic?" Jenna asked.

"No, just automation. It lights when I'm in the room for more than thirty seconds." In the warm glow of the firelight, she let her dress slide to the ground. "The magic is still to come."

"I . . . I can't -"

"Shh," Nessa said. "I'm not asking for that right now. This just works better the closer I am to you."

Jenna thought back to her earlier indecision, but this time she made a choice. With unusually nervous hands, she removed her jacket and holster. She saw approval in Nessa's eyes, and that made it easier to removed her own dress. Jenna had underwear on, or at least a few bits of cloth that claimed to be underwear. Nessa had only a thong on, and she made it work for her.

The vampire moved to the bed and built up a pile of pillows, then lay back on them. She pulled Jenna towards her, until the Nightwalker's back was nestled against Nessa's pillowy breasts. Nessa leaned her charge's head to the side and exposed her neck again.

"Shh," she whispered again. "Just think of a time when you felt safe. Think of a time that you were happy," she added. Nessa waited a moment, then sank her fangs back into Jenna's neck.

The scenery had not changed since Nessa's last visit. The second castle still loomed ominously against the sky of Jenna's mind, but the spirit Jenna stood outside now instead of waiting within. She looked afraid, and obviously did not want to go into that place alone. Yet she hung on to the front door as if admittance was a given. That place was drawing her back, as it had been for so many years. Spirit Jenna looked at Nessa, and appeared as if she wanted to smile. But then her face was drawn back to the doors.

Nessa needed to free all of her friend in order to save her. She put her fingers to her lips and then pointed them at the spirit woman. That Jenna turned back, looking confused. She touched her own lips.

Nessa approached the plastic castle, the brightly color panels starkly contrasted by the heavy padlock, looping chains, and the plywood over the tiny windows. She found herself wishing for a bottle labeled "Drink me," but none was forthcoming. She was tempted to rip off the plywood, but she would not fit through those windows anyway. She stood up, looking at the large children's playground.

'Playground,' she thought. 'This is a child's design. What way in might a child not think of? Hmm, castles have courtyards, and courtyards don't have ceilings.' Hoping that she could still fly in the world of Jenna's mind, Nessa leaped from the ground . . . and floated to the center of the castle.

The moment her feet hit the ground, Nessa was in a new place, and it was not a castle. It was a backyard, complete with play set and a small pool, a barbecue grill and a doghouse. In a lawn chair, a man was sitting with a book in his hand. Nessa recognized him as Jenna's father. And as if on cue, a nine-year-old Jenna came out into the yard with a steaming cup of coffee. She handed the cup to her father, then nestled against him in the chair and started reading the book with him. He smiled at the top of her head. He offered her a sip of coffee, which she took, then made a face.

'That's why she drinks it now,' Nessa realized. 'It was something that she shared with him.'

Nessa wandered into the house and saw the mother and brother watching television. Nessa soon found Jenna's room, and the younger Jenna was there as well.

'Well, it's her mind,' Nessa thought.

Young Jenna was lying on the bed, typing in her laptop and oblivious to Nessa's ethereal presence. The young girl was fifteen now and she was typing a message to a friend. Apparently, she was a good friend . . . a girl named Tanya. Nessa felt vaguely guilty about looking over Jenna's shoulder, but what better way than to find out the character of a fifteen year old girl.

She typed something about classes and being Freshmen, which was "totally" unfair. They talked about vacation plans and celebrity news. Jenna tried to discuss some more mainstream corporate stuff, and was promptly labeled a "square." Nessa had not known that kids still used that expression. Maybe it was retro.

Then Jenna looked nervous. Tanya had typed, *Maybe we should talk. You know. About what happened.*

*I'm sorry,* Jenna typed back. *I didn't mean to do it. It just happened.*

*I'm not mad at you. I was just surprised. So, was I good?*

Nessa saw something that she would not have believed possible. Young Jenna was blushing. *You were okay.* But at least she was smiling. *You know how it is.*

*Better or worse than Nathan?*

*I'm not gonna kiss and tell!*

*No, you're just going to kiss your BFF in the locker room and then run home before you can talk to her about it.*

Jenna blushed again. *I don't know what happened. I just looked at you and this thing came over me and I had to.*

*I'm not complaining. But the next time, warn me. I'll give you a kiss that makes Nathan's smooches look pathetic.*

Young Jenna's eyes opened wide. *You mean --* she typed, and then she waited.

After a few seconds, she got a response. *Yeah, I mean.*

Young Jenna was up off her bed and dancing around like a madwoman. Then she heard her mother yelling that it was time to come for dinner. Jenna hurriedly typed that she would communicate later, then logged off. She danced down the hallway to the dinner table, and to what Nessa considered an all too familiar scene.

The doorbell rang like a church bell, and Jenna's father was like a zombie. He was walking towards the front door while Jenna screamed at him not to do it. She clung to his hand in an attempt to slow him while digging in her heels, but he moved inevitably forward. He reached the door and opened it. On the other side were shadows and teeth, glowing eyes and a preacher's collar. This was Jenna's nightmare man . . . the Messenger. The whirlwind of malice started to make its way inside, destroying Jenna's father in a flurry of slashes and a fountain of blood.

Nessa tried to move and intervene, but it was like her feet were stuck to the floor. She could not help save any of them. This had happened, and there was no undoing it. The monster ate Jenna's mother next, then clawed through her little brother. Jenna tried clinging to each of them, but the were pulled out of her hands and destroyed.