See what did I tell you Spadey girl. You try to make them see you and they're going to see a harlot. A pin up girl. A wanton want.

"Shut up."

A whisper. Staring at her reflection, tourmalines narrowed on the glistening glass.

Even your presumed "friends" see it. Worthless. Nothing. Flesh. That's all you are to them. Something to be used and dismissed.

Her fingers clenched into fists, dragging into her hair until her pig tails were set into loose waves of slick black.

Tourmalines searched, locked on her reflection as her eyes moved over her reflection to find understanding. To see what so many did not.

"One day... he'll remember the moment...when I entered his life... and he'll look back upon it and know... I was the only one... that loved him."

A whisper.

"What the fvck am I saying... Dean was right. I'm nothing... but make believe. What I make them see."

She looked around the room. At everything. Just objects. Gathered collections of meaningless things.

A sound of frustration escaped her as her hands slammed down on the vanity and swiped across its surface sending the bottles of perfume and the crystal trinkets to shatter to the ground.

It was the sound that broke her and her sounds of frustration became a scream as she tore down the tapestries, ripping her clothes from the closet until the room was a disaster and she was exhausted.

Panting out quietly her eyes blazed and glistened. A raw fury turned inward.

See Spadey girl they can see it. How worthless you are. How meaningless. Who could love you. Even -he- found you unworthy to care for, to look after. Your own friends... find you as trash.

A broken sound at that and she turned around lightning fast with her hand curled into a fist.

The fist hit the glass of the mirror to send the splintered shards to explode around her.

She didn't even flinch when the glass cut across her skin.

The shirt torn off, the plaid skirt unzipped. The stockings and shoes following suit.

A simple pair of denim, an undistinguished hoodie zipped up.

Sidonie stared at the broken reflection of herself in the mirror as the first tear trembled down her cheek and a whisper as the glock was tucked into her waistband at the small of her back.

"I hate you..."

A turn away from her reflection then as she headed out. She couldn't stand to see herself any more.

It?s just the way
The game is played
It?s best if you just
Wait your turn
Rihanna-Wait your Turn

-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------

The Fae King was in her head. Another in her heart. No matter what she did it wasn't so easy to just shake either of them off and be dismissed. Court nature required her to respect and pay honor to the King over them all, the other had a claim of her heart that she was struggling to move on from but the more she struggled the more those heart strings seemed... tangled.

Up on the rooftop of Cloud Nine she was sprawled out and staring at the stars. Fingers curled in till nothing but her thumb was peeking up. A lift of it to the sky to cover the moon with that imprint of thumb.

A smile there as tourmalines closed. Breathing out and Breathing in. Tasting the winter on her tongue as her eyes opened once more and chased the pattern of running rampant dogs on her flesh.

The ink seemed to move with her emotions as her thoughts drifted and her eyes watched the stars.

Dean's words trespassed through her mind twisting and tangling with the conversations that happened on old dumpsters with a cowboy, the heavy weight of a pendant by her heart to serve as protection.

The soul tears she hid from the King above them all.

Lang's words of the fact the confessions Sidonie had made were not given out lightly to those she had confessed the truth to. A well hidden truth so deeply buried in her spirit.

On Nights meant for an Artemis Moon. Her life seemed constant and endless... and the soul lines.. she knew no longer where they led.

Perhaps just as twisted and tangled as the strings of her heart.

"Train roll on many miles from my home,
See, I'm riding my blues away.
Tuesday, you see, she had to be free
But somehow I've got to carry on." -Tuesday's Gone, Lynyrd Skynyrd.


The wind was enough to chill every bone in my body as I left the place known as the Star's End Bar and Grill. Funny, I'd never really seen anyone eating there, but then again, I'd only been there twice now. This place seemed to have everything, including things I'd never seen back in Chicago.
I walked several blocks from the bar toward the warehouse district, stopping to tie my shoe once, and to pull a cigarette from the pack in my coat pocket, both of these times allowing me to check for tailing people or worse, without obviously looking like I was paranoid. Some things out in the dark fed on fear, and I wasn't about to give them that sort of satisfaction. I smiled as I found my bag still waiting where I'd hidden it behind some old pallets near a dumpster and heaved it up to my shoulder, then reaching through the broken pane of glass in the door, I unlocked it to let myself in.

My mind started to wander as I knelt down to start the chalk drawing on the floor, thinking of the self proclaimed demon hunter, wondering what, if anything he'd known of the craft, then of course the obvious demon called Lang that was usually in close proximity of that hunter. Threats were always made by the one they called Dean, but never carried through, that I'd seen. Then there was the woman, claiming to be Fae. I'd read up on them, and heard about things they could do but the court she mentioned, I?d always read were more the mutants of the court. Maybe it was her Glamour, or maybe she was just unbalanced and saw herself a Fae, like the guy in Western Michigan saw himself as Bigfoot. Sure he was hairy, and had big feet, but that was about it as far as resemblances went. The one thing that bothered me about her, was the fact she appeared to have full faith in the demon, Lang. I?d noticed the look on her face when I told her that they all want something in return for their actions, and I thought maybe it was too late and a deal had been made.
I sighed then, ?Poor girl.?

Rats scurried the edges of the walls and sifted through the trash strewn around the place, looking for bits of food they had maybe missed as I placed the three black candles at equal distance apart from another on the floor, and then drew the protective talismans and other sigils around me. I sat in the circle of crushed protective herbs and started the chant after I struck a match and dropped it into the chalice. I cleared my mind and laid myself back into the circle, arms out as far as I could reach, and then my legs stretched straight out, and spread as wide as I could and still be somewhat comfortable. As I chanted the wind swirled the trash around me into a vortex. I opened my eyes as I heard the foot steps and saw the young woman standing before me, smiling down.
?Stand up,? she said with a voice nearly as smooth as melted chocolate, ?Let me get a good look at you.? Her smile was bright.
I got to my feet and even at my height a little over six feet, I towered over her.
?A priest?? She chuckled then, ?I thought that priests had certain?other tastes.? She giggled into her hand. ?Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.? I listened as she amused herself, and allowed her to walk around me, eyeing what she?d thought was her next conquest.
?You?ve been busy.? I said, and smiled as her look went from merriment to confusion. ?I know what you?ve been doing around here.? I continued.
?You know nothing!? She spat at me. ?They summoned me, and I?ve been having fun.?
?A bunch of horny teenage boys summoned what they saw as the ultimate sex toy. You used them up, killed them and started on others you saw as fun.?
She stepped toward my circle and stopped. ?That?s right human, I did. I?d do the same to you if you stepped from that circle of protection, I could show you things you?ve only dreamed of. I?ll even let you cuff me.? Her smile was back, and her eyes flashed brightly, while she traced her lips with her tongue. ?Come on Father, you know you?d love to see how the other half lives, this body pressed against yours.? She was a stunning woman, likely possessed one of those fancy underwear models that needed no airbrushing on magazine covers. ?Grinding, sweating, bodies moving as one.? she was practically purring at me then. I stepped forward but stayed in my circle, watching her watch me like a cat watches a mouse held by the tail.
?That is very tempting, but I?ll have to pass.? I said as I backed away from her and stepped out of my circle turning to run.
?You should not have left that protection!? She hissed as she was on me in an instant, I didn?t even think about her being able to move that fast.
?I?m a Priest?? She cut me off.
?Retired!?
?Yes, but still old habits die hard. I never carried more protection than this,? I held up my hand with the Rosary wrapped around it, causing her to leap back in pain as I splashed her with the holy water also held in that hand, drawing my gold .45 with the other, holding it steady on her. I knew it wasn?t enough to kill her, but it would slow her down.
?Bitch!? She yelled at me, and wiped at her smoking face. Her beauty now was a distorted vision of what she had been. She made a dive for me and found herself stopped suddenly, and she started to look around wildly, as I leaned against a pillar that was marked with the containment sigil. Four pillars, four sigils, I?d trapped her where I wanted her.
?Good job, Father.? She said, ?You have me, now what??
?Goodbye.? I smiled as I tucked the pistol back into it?s holster under my jacket.
?You are just going to leave me here?? She was smiling again, ?Some poor sap will free an innocent woman that?s screaming to be saved and thankful to her savior.?
?I?m not that stupid.? I was still smiling and dropped the Rosary to dangle from my fingertips. ?Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei? I made the sign of the cross in her direction, and continued, ?Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu,? And again I made the sign, and watched as her body convulsed and twitched. She fell to the ground thrashing a moment then rose back to her knees.
?Exorcism, really?? She asked in a hissing voice, her eyes dark now. ?You can?t stop us all, Father.?
?I don?t have to stop you all.? I said as I continued with the rite. ?Christi Filii ejus, Domini et Judicis nostri, et in virtute Spiritus? She howled in pain, throwing her head back, then forward, stopping then to look at me with blood dripping from her eyes.
?You are killing this meat suit too.? She warned me, trying to get me to stop.
?She?s already dead. Your type doesn?t know any other way.? I spat at her, and continued the prayer. ?Sancti, ut descedas ab hoc plasmate Dei.?

The winds died down, as her body slumped to the ground, lifeless. The prayer was over and so was her life. There was nothing I could have done for her, and by the time that demon had taken her over, her life was ended. Shot, stabbed, and only kept alive by the beast within. I stepped forward, and checked her pulse, only to find her body rapidly cooling. I walked across the room to where my pack laid on a table to get a blanket to wrap her in. Carefully I lifted her from the floor and carried her down a flight of stairs to where the incinerator was roaring with flame. I said a prayer over her body, and asked that God take her into his arms as I slid her into the flames. This job didn?t get any easier over time, in fact in many ways it was harder almost every time.
My mind went back to the one that I knew as Spade. I wondered if it would come down to this point with her. Watching, or causing her death. If she was truly Fae, I wondered if I?d have to use iron on her even if she was possessed. I shook my head to get rid of that thought, but one last one remained. She called me Truth, and in fact I was the thing farthest from.

She offered me use of a spare room at her loft reluctant at first, I finally accepted as I was tired of staying in bug infested dives. We had walked away from the Inn, out into the night together, and since the first time I?d met her, she seemed totally at ease, and relaxed like nothing else seemed to matter. We made the usual small talk back to her place, both asking questions that we both skillfully avoided answering. I found myself while listening to her velvet smooth voice still checking shadows, taking note of abandoned buildings, and paying attention to anything that could be marked as dangerous. I watched people that would walk by us, with casual glances over my shoulder until the shadows consumed them, and it was just Spade and I again walking down the street. Paranoia had become part of my job description.

I couldn?t get over the fact that she was a beautiful woman, but I knew of the glamour spells that Fae had. I?d heard of some that even took lives, but that had never been proved as bodies were never found. I?d heard her mentioning the fact she was a fighter, and she herself had even told me that she?d been asked to pass judgment on someone, I took comfort in the fact that I was a hunter, and I was prepared for a sudden attack, the gold .45 at my low back was loaded alternately with iron and silver hollow points. I wasn?t going down without blowing a few holes through her seemingly perfect flesh.

Spade had tried her best to convince me that the one she called Wicked, the demon I knew as Lang hadn?t wanted anything from her. She said that he hadn?t done anything except do his best to keep her safe from harm, and never asked anything in return. She mentioned he was married, and that I found hard to believe. The demons back home, they weren?t the marrying kind. They were chaos hungry, deal making, and calculating beings. If they were together as male and female, in the meat suits of a human, it was for nothing more than pleasures of the flesh, and seeing how far they could push the bodies before possibly sending another soul to Hell. I listened to her, still not quite ready to see Lang as the cuddly type, and she mentioned that even Dean had said Lang had helped him from a few jams. My thoughts went to Dean, and the fact that she?d called him The Winged Lion, or even Handsome.

Dean had known I was a hunter, and there was something familiar about him as well. The way he moved, and the way he?d tossed me the skin of Holy Water. That was a move I hadn?t thought of, and something I?d have to remember. I am betting there were a lot of things I could learn from him, and a few that I could possibly teach him. I had been brought here with a stack of my old books stuffed into a black duffel I?d gotten from a Army Surplus store, the clerk swearing to me it was the same kind of bag that black ops guys carried with them. I had knowledge of different cultures beliefs and monsters from the Iuska and Chupacabra to more commonly known Vampires and Werecreatures of all kinds. The funniest story I?d heard once was that of a Werecow, I kid you not. Oh no, watch out, he?s coming to graze your flowerbed! I knew that Dean and I were needing to talk, but we had to do so privately as there were things we needed to talk about that most people would not understand.

She put the key in the lock, with her back to me, allowing me the time to just look at her from head to toe, without sneaking glances while she was looking the other way. She was, what I saw, any man?s dream. Long dark hair, curved in the right places and in a word, beautiful. I was a priest, but I wasn?t dead, and I found it hard to believe that I was standing here behind her, walking into a loft apartment where any number of things could jump out and then I?d have to fight for my life.
?No jealous boyfriends are going to jump out and start swinging are they?? I joked as we walked into the room, causing her to turn and look at me with a laugh.
?I think you are safe, Truth.? She said quietly, she watched me a few minutes before walking over to a stereo system and turning on some sort of low, techno beat and quickly turning it down to a conversing level. ?Drink?? She asked as she then walked to a small liquor cabinet.
?You have any coffee?? I asked hopeful. I?d given up drinking, as it had become my own personal demon, and that in itself was a long, long story.
She laughed as she went into her smallish kitchen and flicked on a coffee pot, then walked passed me, lightly tracing her hand across my arm. ?Follow me, I?ll show you to your room.? I tried to study paintings and every detail of the room, anything not to just stare at the sway of her hips. I paused near one particular painting, and found it somewhat familiar, yet I couldn?t quite place where I?d seen it before. A picture of a woman riding a black horse, fast across the crashing waves of a beach as if racing an approaching storm.
?My favorite.? She said from the doorway of the room.
?It is interesting to say the least.? I grinned as I walked into the room, passing her carefully.

I looked around the room, taking note of the decoration and the fact that it looked like no one had been here in ages, except maybe to change bed linens. I turned and smiled at her again.
?You sure it is okay that I stay here?? She just smiled at me and turned, walking from the room, leaving me to my privacy. I walked around the room after closing the door, and leaving it unlocked. I looked at different things that decorated the space, including the free standing full length mirror that appeared to be made of oak, and stained dark. The walls were painted dark red, trimmed in something darker, closer to black than red. I pulled back the dark curtain and looked down to the street below, again my paranoia kicking in, checking the distance down, in case I had to go out that way. The drop was about ten feet, if I hit and rolled I shouldn?t even sprain my ankle.

I stepped back to the bed, and remembered then that my bag that held my other clothes was still sitting in that fleabag hotel I?d holed up in the night prior.
?Won?t this be interesting if there?s a fire.? I said to myself as I pulled the gray t shirt off, leaving the darker gray, form fitting cloth beneath. I?d had the Type IV under armor made by a man I met after saving his mother from a poltergeist. The thing had laid a beating on me and ripped my chest open enough to require stitches. He?d come by the hospital to see me, wanting to repay me for saving his mother and had made the armor. It could stop knives and most every form of fire arm shot, up to armor piercing and had saved me more than I could count. My jeans were next to hit the floor, after tugging off my square toed boots, then I peeled the armor off my chest and legs, not believing where I was, how I?d gotten there and wondered what would happen next. Seemed to be that everything was in a spiral since my arrival. It wasn?t the first time I?d stayed somewhere unfamiliar, and I am sure it wouldn?t be the last. I checked the safety on my pistol as I slid it under the pillow. I laid my head back into the pillow then and pulled the covers up about halfway, it had been and interesting night, and I wondered what else was coming.

Vows are spoken
To be broken
Feelings are intense
Words are trivial
Pleasures remain
So does the pain
Words are meaningless
And forgettable

All I ever wanted
All I ever needed
Is here in my arms
Words are very unnecessary
They can only do harm
Depeche Mode-Enjoy the Silence

-------------------------------------------------- -----------------------------

There was no awareness of the morning light filtering through as the curtains assured that the sun would not be seen through the thick fabric. That and the room was turned away from the sun's rise.

She stirred in the realization that it was the afternoon rather then the morning. Her thoughts hazed and clouded with the long night of conversation, the thick claim of emotions that had overtaken her.

It had brought her to the spare room that had once been empty and now promised something more of a comfort then any she had expected or acknowledged.

Her fingers had pressed to the wood, tracing it into a heat pattern of her contact. She had awakened from nightmares and had wanting only nothing more then solace in the solitaire. Yet here she was like a prowling predator to wonder on the man that in the darkness slept past that door.

Truth.

Those hours had been spent with him, sitting on his bed and sharing everything that plagued her and tormented her spirit. Hours that became moments of revelation for them both. Confessions in the night when the glamour had fallen and the candle blown out once more.

Her thoughts were dream hazed, had it all been a dream? The bruised intensity of her mouth from the awakened passion of those first kisses. His possessive claim of her as he held her in his arms.

Was it all just a figment of her imagination? Tourmalines opened as she stirred and found her uncertainty to be shattered when she felt the warmth of him, the strong presence of his body pressed to her own. Even in the night his embrace had not left her.

Holding her as if he wasn't about to ever let her go. She closed her eyes again to treasure that moment. Gods knew how long it would stay and remain. She told him she never wanted it to end... that all of this terrified her... to feel this much...

He had commented of how it felt like how it must have been between Handsome and Sweetheart... that it just happened because it was supposed to.

She wasn't just falling for him, she already had. A whisper against his chest that left unspoken and silent on her lips as her lids got heavy again and she snuggled into that embrace of the once minister.

A plea that he wouldn't break her heart because she'd already fallen so far...

She went shopping to restock the kitchen and to clear her head, or more so to make certain that her feelings wre legitimate and not just the nature of a lonely Sidhe.

All sorts of assortments of goodies and food were selected and gathered from the Marketplace as a nervous laugh escaped her from the thought. Besides coffee... she didn't even really know what Truth liked.

Wasn't that one of the first things you were supposed to learn when you were dating? Oh goddess was that what this was? A thread of panic curled through her as she thought over all that she had to learn and should know by now.

Favorite foods, allergies, what could kill him, what to do to keep him alive. Her nose wrinkled as she thought over it all and selected a box of cake mix and frosting.

Even that brought a delicate laugh from her, Goddess but the man was domesticating her without her realization. At least there was a certainty of no need for a white picket fence.

As she headed home her thoughts wandered again. She knew he had inquired about her family. How odd of a family gathering might that be if he met... all... of the family.

Jacinata with her troublemaking partner Puck, Roisin and Heph were practically like walking gods... and then... to imagine him meeting the Frost Queen, Tierney herself and her... werewolf... mate.

They should just throw Handsome and Sweetheart in the mix and it'd be a party.

She was laughing as she entered her loft, eyes bright with merriment as she went searching for Truth.