Wyn jerked awake with a start. When had she fallen asleep? Judging by the slanting sunlight it was already late afternoon. She struggles to a sitting position, rubbing sleep out of her swollen eyes. Just as her feet hit the floor a blood-freezing wail shatters the silence. Gasping, Wyn bolts to her feet, her body shaking, skin prickling with fright as the horrible sound begins to falter and die.
Trying vainly to rub the gooseflesh from her arms, Wyn screws up her courage and creeps from her bedroom into the hallway. It's time to put an end to this. Either this place is haunted or I'm going crazy, but I can't be the only one who's heard this sound. It's too real. Every nerve taut, she makes her way forward, every sense straining to find something, anything out of the ordinary that might explain this. All she can hear is the chatter of the television.
"Dex? Dex, are you out here?" She calls from the doorway, her voice quavering slightly, to her embarrassment. I hate sounding scared.
"Where else would I be?" He calls back in an amused tone, detaching himself from the couch and ambling over. "What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Couldn't you hear it? That noise, that--" She is cut off by yet another bout of keening. Rooted to the spot, eyes wide, she claps her hands over her ears. Dex flinches slightly, but doesn't seem otherwise affected. As the sound dwindles Wyn swallows hard before managing, "That noise. . . whatever it is."
"Perfectly detestable, isn't it?" Dex says in such a blas'e tone that Wyn can't do anything but gape at him. "You get used to it."
"But what is it?" She finally says, wide eyed.
Smirking, Dex gestures through Shade's half-open door to the shadowy form curled up on the bed.
"You can't be serious." Wyn informs him flatly, anger beginning to replace the fear. "No human being can make that noise, and he doesn't have anything to be making it with."
"Go see for yourself, then." Dex invites, flicking on the hallway light, throwing shade's room into a confusion of shadows.
"I'm not about to--" She is cut off again by that wail, this one much shorter and trailing off into a moan. There is no disputing where it's coming from. Unbelievable. I wouldn't believe any person capable of . . . She lets that thought trail off, overcome by a mixture of horror and pity. How is it possible, for someone to make that . . . that sound. . . ? It isn't human. It just isn't human. She watches Shade toss and writhe on the bed, his eyes screwed shut and a look of agony on his face. "Is-- is he asleep?" She asks in disbelief.
"Yep. Nightmares. He has 'em almost every night." Dex says, shaking his head. "You kinda have to sleep around him. Wait till he gets up." He advises, turning to saunter back over to the couch. Pausing, he turns back, "Don't wake him." He adds.
"Like hell I won't." She mutters, stepping hesitantly into the room. She crosses to the bed, standing over Shade's sleeping form. He moans again in his sleep, eyelids twitching, clutching his pillow so hard she's surprised it's still intact. In the light from the hallway she notices that his back is a criss-cross map of scars, some of them lashing out over his ribs. They look faded, but nasty. Wyn reaches out her hand to shake him awake.
"Stop!" Dex growls from the doorway, the force of his words freezing her in her tracks, hand outstreached. She turns to see Dex looking angry and pale. "You stupid girl. I told you not to wake him." He looks outraged that she would even consider disobeying him, his eyes flash with a dangerous fire.
"I'm not about to let him suffer through something like this!" She hisses back, more pissed off then ever at the self-righteous little prick.
Dex smiles with cool amusement. "It's for your safety. He killed the last kid that woke him up like that."
"If you expect me to believe that--" She begins.
"Believe whatever you wish, of course. But I was there, at the orphanage with him. I saw the boy he killed. Strangled him to death without ever even waking up. It took three orderlies to pry him off . . ." Dex trails off with an infuriating shrug. "But if you care to chance it, don't say I didn't warn you." He turns and walks off.
"Damn you Dex." She mutters under her breath, believing him just enough to keep from chancing it. Frustrated, Wyn sits on the floor beside the bed to wait. He looks like a kid when he sleeps. Wyn observes a trifle sadly. I wonder what happened? He doesn't make that noise again for a long time, instead groaning and twitching in his sleep, obviously held fast in the grip of some terrible nightmare. She watches him toss and turn as the light fades from the window.
Suddenly, he lets loose a tormented howl, shattering her nerves and making her break out in goosebumps all over again. His hands twist violently on the pillow, ripping it and making Wyn think of Dex's previous warning. A look of horror crosses his features and he lets out one more anguished cry before gasping and sitting bolt upright in the bed. He sits there staring at nothing for a second, then sighs and flops back down, picking up the leaking pillow gingerly and examining it. He makes a disgusted noise and tosses it against the wall, where it produces a flurry of little fuzzy things, before folding his arms behind his head as his breathing returns to normal.
"Are you okay?" Wyn asks softly.
He startles, almost jumping out of the bed before realizing who it is. "Jesus Christ!" He swears, sitting up on the edge of the bed. "What the hell are you doing in here?" He asks, a trifle unsteadily, running a hand through his hair and groping on the floor for his cigarettes.
"I- I came to see if you were okay . . . I heard this noise . . ." She trails off, not really knowing how to continue, how to describe the way it scared her, or even sure if she wants him to know that it did.
Shade sighs, reaching behind him and pulling the blanket around his shoulders. "I woke you up?" He asks in a despirited tone, as if he already knows the answer.
Wyn nods wordlessly as Shade fumbles out a cigarette and lights it.. Yeah, you could say that.
"Sorry about that. Guess I shoulda warned you or something." He sighs out a lungful of smoke.
"Dex said you have nightmares." She says, unsure of how to continue. Yeah, Dex says a lot of things . . .
He nods. "Yeah." He stares at his hands. "You look a little freaked out. Sorry if I, uh, scared you or anything." He says apologetically, glancing up at her.
Wyn tries to smile. "I didn't know it was you. It didn't sound . . . I mean . . . well, now I know it was you, so I don't have to be freaked out." Or do i? How do you feel at ease around someone who may or may not kill people in their sleep?
Shade nods again, casting about for something to add. "Well, since we're both up . . . you want some coffee or something?" He offers.
"Sure." She says with something akin to relief.
Shade stands, gathering the blanket around him, towering over her like a childhood bogeyman. Wyn climbs to her feet as well, trying to dispell the image. She follows him out through the main room, careful not to step on the trailing blanket.
"Ah, sleeping beauty has awakened." Dex comments in an amused tone from the couch. "Maybe now I can catch a little sleep."
Shade flips him off and continues on his way.
Wyn shoots a glare in his direction. "How can you stand him?" She grumbles, hopping up on the counter behind Shade.
Shade shrugs, digging out coffee filters. "He's an asshole, but you get used to it."
Wyn nods doubtfully. "I guess." She lights a cigarette as Shade turns on the pot and leans against the counter to face her. "Have you two known eachother long?"
"Couple years. He got me outta a couple of tight spots when I was younger." Shade makes a vague gesture.
Wyn looks him over, raising an eyebrow. "I have a hard time believing you'd need his help. You look like you can take care of yourself."
Shade chuckles, a surprisingly mellow sound. "You may not think it to look at me, but I was a pretty small kid." He leans against the counter, studying her. "So . . . what's your story? How'd you get to this hellhole of a city?"
"I . . . well, I wanted to be a singer. I came here because I thought I would find my big break here in the big city." She chuckles bitterly. "I ran away cause I knew my parents would never approve." Wyn sighs, searching her foggy memory for something else to offer. Her parents? Vague shadows of people who's faces she'd forgotten, of destinguished parties, a large house. . . comfort . . . why would she leave all that for this? Cause it seemed like a good idea at the time?
"What happened?" He asks, tilting his head.
"I guess I wasn't as good as I thought. When I was growing up, people always told me . . ." she falters slightly, her cheeks coloring faintly. "They told me my voice was magical." She snorts dirisively. "Huh. Some magic. Look where it got me."
"Too bad it didn't work out." Shade says sympathetically. "Maybe you could, you know, go back home or something. If we get out of here." He adds, his eyes narrowing.
"Well they can't just keep us here." Wyn tells him reasonably, displaying none of her own doubt.
"They seem to be doing a pretty good job of it so far." Shade scowls, indicating the barred windows and locked doors.
Wyn sighs. "Yeah, well . . . I'm not sure I really want to go home." Home. That word alone was enough to make Wyn's stomach feel hollow. How do you go home when you can't even remember where home is? Tears of frustration begin to well in her eyes, and she fights them back angrily.
Shade watches her inner conflict, seemingly impartial. "Why not? Parents hate you or something?" His voice is bland but something painful stirs behind his eyes.
"No, nothing like that, " she assures him quickly. "At least, I don't think so." She adds more truthfully, desperately trying to part the fog that seemed to obscure almost every memory.
"You don't know?" He raises an eyebrow, tapping ash into the sink.
"I--I don't remember, really. My memories . . . it's like they're lost in a fog, and just out of reach . . . if I could only get to them . . ." Wyn's face flushes with shame, embarassed at revealing this much to an almost complete stranger. What's wrong with you Wyn? Get ahold of yourself! This psycho is the last person you want to be telling personal stuff to. Shade turns back to the nearly full coffee pot, giving her a moment to descreetly wipe the tears out of her eyes. "Ah, anyways. . . I'm pretty sure my parents didn't have anything to do with all this." She concludes, taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself again.
Shade frowns. "You got amnesia?"
"No . . . It's not like that, it's as if everything's still there but I just can't get to it, like i get lost in the fog on the way there." She says with difficulty. "There's no easy way to describe it. I feel like-" She falters, looking at the floor. Like a part of me's missing. "I can't believe I'm telling you all this." She murmurs, glancing up. Shade is watching her with an almost frightening intensity. "W-what?" She stammers, turning red again.
"The mists." He mutters, a look of growing comprehension on his face.
"The mists?" She echoes doubtfully.
Shade nods destractedly, appearing deep in thought. After a moment he shakes his head muttering, "I must be crazy," and begins taking down two mugs.
No argument here. "So . . . um . . . what are 'the mists'?"
Shade hesitates a moment, setting the mugs down and reaching for the coffee pot. "The mists happen when a . . .a person forgets who they are, they can't get to their real memories any more until someone, um, gives them back what they've lost." She can tell he's omitting worlds of meaning between those stilted lines.
"Uh . . . huh." Wyn looks at him, trying to figure out whether he's serious and crazy or joking and, well, crazy.
Shade pours two cups of coffee, looking to be in the midst of a serious internal conflict. "It would be hard to explain." He says over his shoulder.
"You wanna try anyway?" Wyn says as he turns back, holding her coffee between his hands as if warming them. "Cause you kind of lost me." He carefully hands her her mug, as she takes it she feels a tingle in her hands and a sliver of unease takes up residence in the pit of her stomach. Shade is watching her with an odd and frightening intensity, looking anxious and slightly guilty. "What?"
"Nothing." He says quickly.
He's a bad liar. Wyn notes, narrowing her eyes. There's something going on here. "What are you giving me that look for? For that matter what are you talking about?" She demands, planting her free hand on her hip.
Shade takes a sip of coffee, stalling.
"Well?" She asks impatiently, taking a sip of her own. What the --? A strange and almost indescribable feeling sweeps over her, seeping through her skin, deep down suffusing her very soul. Glamour. Faerie magic suddenly takes her, awakening her, making her remember.
It is as if a floodgate has opened up within her. Memories, rich and colorful threaten to sweep her away. Her chrysalis, the first moment when she became aware of her true nature, when she became one of the fae. She had been five, and it was as if her daydreams had become real. She had been transported into a world of nobility and magic. She had gone running to her parents, ah she remembered it now.
"Mom, Dad, it's real! It's all real!" She had gone running to tell them, and been brought up short by an extrordinary sight. Her mother and father were faeries too. Breathtaking and noble, wearing clothes she had never seen before. Their features were finer, and their ears were pointed, like hers. They laughed gently and hugged her.
"Of course it's all real," their crystaline voices assured her, "It's real and you're a part of it."
Even the house had changed! Where there had once stood a great mansion, now a shining castle resided. Everywhere there were changes, but things were the same as well. She had just never seen it before. It was as if the world of magic lay hidden beneath the mundane facade, and she had just aquired the eyes to see through it. Pretty accurate, actually.
They had introduced her to the court, the daughter of a count and countess. An endless parade of wonderful strangers. Some were beautiful, with the sharp features and pointed ears that she and her parents shared, the sidhe*, faerie nobility. Some were towering and blue-skinned trolls, guardians out of myth. But for her myth was reality. There were goat-legged satyrs, and playful animalistic pookas, there were grumpy nockers, always tinkering with some contraption or another, the wild yet courteous eshu, travelling storytellers. Skulking in the shadows were the whispering sluagh, frightening and dark. The lost world of nobles and knights and dragons, of magic and quests and monsters, it was real, all real!
Such a bright world, so much magic . . . she couldn't even remember when she lost the last of it.
A sharp shattering sound brings her back to herself, she opens her eyes. Shade is standing there, eyes very wide, the splintered remains of his coffee cup at his feet, soaking into the hem of the blanket which slithers to the ground just a second behind.
"I'll be goddamned." He breathes, blinking in disbelief.
He's not the only one. With her faerie nature newly awakened, she can see him for what he really is. Not human. She had thought, how correct she had been, she thinks ruefully. She could see his faerie mein now, clear as day. Stranger then anything she had ever seen before. His skin was greyer, in fae form, and his eyes brighter, and, most incredably, he had wings. Winged faeries were a myth, or at the very least few and far between. Certainly not what disney had made them out to be, anyhow. From Shade's back sprouted a leathery pair of greenish grey wings, like a bat's, or a dragon's. He's fae all right, but of no kith she had ever seen before.
Shade seems to pull himself together slightly, "I enchanted your coffee." He says, misinterpreting her questioning look. "I thought . . . I mean . . . I didn't think that . . . you're a sidhe?"
Wyn nods, tears of gratefullness welling in her eyes. She sets down the coffee with exaggerated care. "How- how did you know I was . . . was . . ." Unable to stop herself, she dissolves into tears, part happiness for what she has been given, part grief for what she almost lost forever.
Shade looks vaguely alarmed. "Hey..." He trails off, then tries again. "Take it easy...er...don't cry, okay?" He says in what is obviously meant to be a comforting tone.
Sniffling, dabbing her tears away with a delicate swipe of her sleeve, she manages to smile at him. "How did you know I was lost?" She asks again, eyes shining.
"I . . . just guessed it. What you said about the mists, I thought . . . I figured if I was wrong you wouldn't remember it all anyhow." He murmurs, jumping slightly as the coffee reaches his bare feet, and making a face.
The mists, yes. What separates magic from mundanity. She thinks, tasting the concept anew. When a faerie worked magic upon the normal world, that world tended to forget, almost a defense mechanism. When a faerie lost all their glamour they forgot, and were undone. Wyn shivers to think how close she must have come to that; her faerie soul almost dying, drowning in a sea of normality. Silently she watches Shade wipe up the mess, dumping the shards in the garbage, stealing glances up at her while he does so, shaking his head.
"Thank you." She says when he's done. "You have no idea how grateful I am."
Shade straightens up, looking a trifle embarassed. "Hey, er, no problem, it wasn't really too much of a risk . . . I mean, after the glamour wore off you'd -" He falters at the look of sickening comprehension dawning on Wyn's face, "- forget."
But what if I do forget? How can I face losing everything again? "I almost wish you hadn't . . . when this wears off, I'll be back to where I was." She sighs, something like despair looming over her.
Shade looks uncomfortable, lighting a cigarette. "I'm sorry as hell." He finally says, sighing.
"No, it's all right, it's not your fault." She echoes his sigh, taking another sip of coffee. "I wish I'd never come to this f*cking city!" She fairly growls in frustration.
"Maybe . . . maybe you could go back to your parents or something." Shade suggests hesitantly, offering her a cigarette. "If we get out of here." He adds.
She accepts it gratefully, holding it steady as he lights it, before shaking her head. "I can't go back now, not like this." She looks herself over, shaking her head. "I'd be in disgrace. No, I'm not going back until I make something of myself."
He looks at her for a long moment, then shrugs, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
Dex wanders grumpily in, sighting Wyn and doing a double take. "You know it's a little hard to sleep with you two making all this noi--holy shit! She's a sidhe?" He rubs his eyes, taking in Wyn's faerie features with a look of amazement, quickly replaced by one of studied nonchalence. "Well, now, this is a surprise. How did this come about?" He turns to Shade, raising an eyebrow.
Shade takes a sip of his coffee, avoiding Dex's eyes. "I enchanted her." He says with a note of guilt.
Wyn eyes Dex warily. No wonder I found him so familiar. Dex was a sidhe as well, his sharp fae features enhancing his natural good looks tenfold. That was the power of the sidhe, they were beautiful and commanding. The other commoner kiths had problems disobeying them, or even wanting to. Noble that she herself was, it was hard for Wyn to resist the natural charisma pouring off of Dex in his fae form. His clothes had transformed to the courtly garb that befitted a noble, shades of black that gave no clue to his noble house. Wyn's own worn clothes were drab by comparison, but she dared not invest her newfound glamour in changing them, as would befit someone of her station.
"You enchanted her? That was thoughtless of you. What if she had been human? Would you really want a human to see you for what you really are?" Dex asks Shade in a deceptively even tone. Wyn could see the anger behind his eyes.
Shade scowls. "Of course not."
"Then why would you do something so stupid?" Dex demands.
"It obviously wasn't stupid if it brought me back." Wyn interjects frostily.
"Well, that remains to be seen now, doesn't it?" Dex murmurs in an undertone.
Shocked, Wyn glares at him, "What do you mean by that?"
"Think about it." He says, crossing his arms impatiently. "What good is it to us that your nature has resurfaced? You are obviously weak enough to have lost it in the first place, and in case you haven't noticed, glamour here is pretty damn scarce. We simply don't have the wherewithal to support you. You'll only serve as a drain on our resources."
"A drain on your resources?" Wyn echoes, disbelief warring with anger at such a blatent disreguard of Faerie law. "How can you say that? How can you even think it? According to law you have an obligation to help me!" Wyn forced the bitter words out, hating the weakness such a bid for help indicated.
"According to law, I should take you and dump you at the nearest freehold, you do remember what a freehold is, don't you?" Dex inquires nastily.
"Yes." Wyn nearly hissed, venom dripping from the word. A natural repository of glamor, freeholds belonged to the noble lords who attended them, a safehaven for all changelings. If Wyn was taken to such a place, her parents would be immediately notified, and she would in all likelihood be forced to return home.
"Good. Then once we get out of here, that's exactly what I'll do. Until that time, though, I am under no obligation to expend my much needed glamour on keeping you aware." Dex says haughtily, lighting a cigarette.
Wyn's hands curl into fists at her sides, her entire body quivering with rage at his attitude and her helplessness. "You can't do that!"
"Oh? And who are you to say what I can and cannot do?" Dex leans against the counter, the picture of unconcern.
"I am Gwyndolyn Brenna Majere, a sidhe of house Fiona, daughter of the Count and Countess Majere and future heiress to their lands and titles." She says in a clear commanding voice, feeling her fledgling glamour bind tightly about her for a moment, before relaxing again.
"Sure, you are today." Dex smirks in that insufferably smug tone.
"Will be, forever." She corrects, a feirce determination flashing in her eyes.
Dex smiles at her sweetly, putting out his cigarette on the counter. "Right. I'll see you tomorrow, Wyn." He says with a wink, before sauntering back to his room.
It took all of Wyn's composure not to run after him and kick him in the balls, if only to wipe that smug look out of his eyes. Slowly she became aware of Shade, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her.
"He's wrong." She tells him, fixing her burning gaze with Shade's hooded one. "I won't fade away again, with or without his help."
Shade nods, tapping his ash in the sink, seeming at a loss for words.
"Asshole!" She growls, pounding her fist on the countertop. Shade raises an eyebrow. "No, not you." She sighs, rubbing the heel of her hand ruefully. "I just can't believe he said those things. It's changeling law since time out of mind that we help eachother in a time of need. It's the right of rescue, everyone knows that . . . "
Shade shrugs.
"What? Doesn't that matter to you?" She demands.
"I guess so." He says, shifting his feet slightly.
"He can't just disreguard the law like that." She insists.
"Who's going to stop him here? He said he'd get you to a freehold." Shade reminds her.
"The right of rescue isn't just about dumping someone at a freehold, it's about helping them keep their fairy nature, and thusly keep more glamour in this world."
"Pretty concept." Shade says dryly, giving her a look that makes her feel terribly nieve.
"Well if you don't believe in keeping to the law, why did you help me?" She asks, trying to hide the color rising to her cheeks.
"Maybe I felt bad for being a dick to you earlier." He suggests, shifting his leathery wings into a more comfortable position against the counter.
Wyn thinks about that for a minute. "Thank you . . . maybe if I try I can hold onto my glamour myself, this time." She tells him hopefully.
"Being less banal would help." Shade says with a hint of amusement.
Wyn favors him with a withering look. "I'm glad you're feeling well enough to make jokes."
Shade sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well,maybe that chick will come back now that I'm conscious." He says half with trepidation and half anticipation.
"The vampire?" Wyn asks.
"So you believe me now?" Shade asks. Wyn nods, slightly embarrassed. "Well, that's a start anyhow."
"What do you think she wants us for?" Wyn asks.
"Dinner."
"Are you serious? That's- that's . . ." She gropes for the word.
"Pretty f*ckin likely, if you ask me." Shade sighs and butts his cigarette.
Wyn searches her memory for vampire lore, coming up short. "Isn't fae blood, er, bad for them somehow?" She wonders.
"From what I heard some real f*cked up shit happens when they drink it . . . Unless she's one of those crazy vampires, I heard that they get high off of it." Shade shrugs vaguely. "But I don't really know for sure. Maybe it's just like a delicacy for them or something." He takes a swig of his coffee. "We won't know for certain till she gets here. If she comes."
"Aren't you worried?" She asks in disbelief at his calm tone.
"The way I figure it, either I'm wrong and she's got something else up her sleve, or I'm right and we're dead. If that's the case, it doesn't matter if I worry about it or not. Hell, might even be better off, maybe I'll come back as a noble next time." He laughs with little humor.
Not very likely. Wyn thinks, but decides not to disillusion him. She looks him over, her eyes hesitating on the wings, trying to place his kith. "So, um, if you don't mind my asking . . . what kith are you, anyhow? I'm sure I've never seen anything, er, anyone like you before . . ." She fumbles, her curiosity overcoming her diplomacy. She nearly winces as the guarded look returns to his eyes.
He stares at his feet for so long she's not entirely certain he's going to answer. Then, "Well you're not the only one. So far as I know there isn't anyone, or anything like me." He says bitterly, lighting another cigarette.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Doesn't matter." He cuts her off with a wave of his hand. "Everyone asks eventually. I don't know what I am, I was born this way. Probably just a freak of nature."
"Born this way? That's impossible! Changelings are born human, then one day they have their chrysalis and realize their true nature, a faerie born into the world of humans would have no protection, they wouldn't . . ." Wyn stops herself. They wouldn't survive. The banality of the world would simply beat down their nature, unable to accept it. She looks at him with incomprehension mixed with pity. If he's telling the truth . . . She breaks off as he looks up at her, eyes gleaming unpleasantly through the fall of his hair.
"Well, you'd know, wouldn't you?" He says in a patronising voice. "I mean, gee whiz, I'm just a f*cked up junkie, I certainly don't know how my life went."
"That's not what I meant." Wyn protests, hurt. "I just never heard of somone being born fae, is all."
Shade glares at her, grunting something unintelligable. Under the force of his gaze, Wyn is suddenly reminded of the size difference between them and his tendancy for violence. Oddly, enough, this doesn't frighten her as it once had. It took her a moment to realize that this was the boon of her courtly house, Fiona. House Fiona was renouned for their immunity to fear, another thing she had lost with her nature. She thanked her stars for it now, matching his glare defiantly.
"You don't have to be so defensive, it's unusual is all I was saying. You have to admit that, at least." She tells him.
"Sure." He says shortly, seeming almost amused that she would keep pushing the point.
"You are positively infuriating, you know that?" Wyn finally tells him, throwing up her hands.
Shade shrugs. "If you say so."
"Well, I do." She says stubbornly.
Shade sighs, scratching his needlemarked arm. The silence grows and begins to hang awkwardly between them. Shade sips his coffee and lights another cigarette, his eyes seem to look upon some distant and ugly horizon.
"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you, okay? It's just been a really wierd morning . . . " Wyn trails off with a sigh. "I really am grateful for your help."
"Forget about it." He waves off both apology and gratitude.
"I mean it though, If there's ever anything I can do to repay you--"
"You could get me a fix." He says with a tired half-smile.
She shakes her head seriously. "No, I wouldn't do that to you."
He rolls his eyes. "I sense a lecture coming on."
"I'm not gonna lecture you, I think detox has been lecture enough." She tells him honestly.
Shade looks less then amused to hear this, but says nothing.
Just then, the lock rattles and the door opens, admitting Doc Norston. He looks at the two of you with a small professional smile. "Hello children. It's good to see you both looking so well." He greets them pleasantly. "Shade, how are you feeling?"
Shade's eyes narrow. "Well enough to leave now." He says in a cold voice, taking a step towards the door.
Wyn's heart begins to beat faster, as she moves out of the way of the inevitable conflict.
"Down boy." A sultry and amused female voice wafts over the Doctor's shoulder, stopping Shade in his tracks.
Norston steps aside to admit a striking redhead, pale as porcelain, with eyes as green as a cat's. The owner of the voice smiles at Shade, although there is nothing pleasant about it, it is more the smug smile of a queen surveying her prized managerie.
"Now, now boys, no need for a confrontation, is there?" She says, her voice soothing as a velvet lullaby.
*(sidhe- pronunciated: shee)
