[Zlataslawa]

Chapter 28- The Confession by nicola71
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Thank you again to everyone who has picked up this story, new and old! I appreciate all of your support! Thanks also to Reka for her superior beta skills!
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Penelope opened the door to her suite slowly and saw London sitting in the chair, in front of the fire, reading something. As she closed in on him he never moved except to turn the pages of what, to her amusement, was a copy of Entertainment Weekly.

“Penny,” he looked up and smiled nervously, “you know, I never asked you if you’ve ever gone to a movie. Maybe you would like to go some night?”

He stood slowly, dropped the magazine to the chair and looked at her for what seemed like an eternity until they both rushed together, each begging the other’s forgiveness.

“London, I’m so sorry,” Penny exclaimed.

“No, no, no, I should have never scolded you like a child, I...”

“Please, London, let me speak first, please?”

“As you wish,” he practically whispered and took her into his arms as they both sunk to the floor, backs against the chair.

Penelope was having trouble deciding where to begin, so she decided to start with the most important thing he needed to know.

“London, I love you. And I was being selfish in that it never occurred to me what you might do if I died.” She held both his hands to her heart. “The danger of what I did was overshadowed by the possible benefit, and that’s something that I’ve always done. Weighed the benefit against the risks. It’s practical and rational and utterly stupid when it affects people I love. But until a few months ago I didn’t have people that I loved. I know that’s a poor excuse, but I’m learning as I go. My death, although regrettable, would not have changed things much for my former master.”

London didn’t believe what she was saying, “Penny, all masters are affected by the well being of their servants. I refuse to believe that he would not have been devastated by your death, regardless if he could have protected himself from it.”

Penelope took a deep breath. There was so much that Asher and London didn’t know about her and her life before St. Louis, and the hour was so late. But she had to tell him.

She shook her head, “No, my love. I was with him for three hundred years, and I know, beyond any doubt, that the lives and deaths of his servants, although marked by and mourned upon by the servants themselves, caused no more distress to my old master than the death of perhaps a beloved pet.”

Penelope explained that Socrates’ gift of making many servants and having the ability to release them was, as all vampire gifts, a double edged sword. He could feel his servants, he could tell if they were upset or angry or frustrated or in danger, and he could draw on their powers if needed. But he could not ‘feel’ them. He had no desire to touch them, or to draw them in, or love them. Their power was all he needed, be it magical or intellectual. Of all of his servants Penelope was dear to him only because of a promise he made to her grandmother, the details of which Penelope was never privy to. He rushed to save her after Julianna’s death because he gave his word to keep her safe. Because he gave his word. Not because she filled any empty void.

London spoke, “How do you know for certain? Perhaps he kept things from you...”

“What did Asher do when he thought Jean-Claude was responsible for Julianna’s death?”

“He plotted to take revenge, by killing Anita.”

“London, what would you do if someone harmed me? Raped me? Killed me?”

Without hesitation he replied, “I would drain them to the point of death, drive them to madness with all means of torture in my power, then rip the limbs from their body. If you were dead I would meet the sun because I meant what I told you before. If you die, I will live long enough to avenge you. No more.”

“I killed one of my sister servants.”

“What?” London knew that Penelope had dark secrets. Sometimes when she slept, she cried out in anguish, muttering in one or another dead language he didn’t understand.

“I never wanted to tell you, because I was afraid of what you might say, that you might think less of me. But I don’t want there to be secrets between us. There are places that I cannot go inside of Asher, and there are places inside of me not meant for him. I know that now because those places are meant for you. You are the one who can guide me from those particularly dark passages.”

The tears that gathered in her eyes were not because of her great sin, for she had cried herself out about that decades ago, but for the fact that London was going to gain the knowledge of the worst parts of her. Asher accepted all of her without question. He had seen glimpses, of course, and he felt her feelings, but the magic that bound them created an understanding that was simply ‘there’. Her relationship with London was not based on magic, and with nothing to bind them but love, she hoped it would be enough to keep him from leaving her.

He wiped her tears, and pulled her chin so that she was looking into his eyes. The blackness of them still sparkled for her, with love, concern and a yen for understanding.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Penelope reminded him of the letter she wrote to him warning him of the onset of a great danger, the letter she wrote when the Dragon came to their palace and brought uninvited visitors from Germany, prior to World War II.

“It was June of 1939,” she began, “when the Dragon requested another audience with my master. I had been excluded from their meetings for many years because for some reason he didn’t want me involved. But that night was very different.”

She went on to explain that the Dragon was in league with high ranking members of the Nazi party in Germany, and that she was there to tell Socrates that an invasion was planned for Poland later that year in the hopes that it would spark a world wide conflict. A conflict that did indeed occur, the outcome of which was suffering all around, not only for the humans but for vampires and other supernatural creatures alike. If the Dragon had intended to feed on the anger of the world, she had painfully misjudged what the world was made of. As the Allies banded together to defeat a seemingly unfathomable evil, she would eventually lose her hold. Even the Council would turn against her, and although battle lines were drawn in the preternatural world as everywhere else, the strongest of their kind sided with the Allies. Not even the creatures of the night wanted to see their world reduced to ashes.

But on that night in 1939, the Dragon seemed to have other, even more sinister intentions for invading Penelope’s home. What the Dragon truly wanted from Socrates was never revealed to Penelope, but whatever it was he refused. Up to that point he had never refused a request from a member of the Council. He ordered her and her Nazi minions to leave and a battle began. Penelope heard her master’s call and went to the library with everyone else.

“When I got there it was already a bloodbath,” she squeezed London’s hand because it made her feel safe and in the present. The memories were so vivid, especially for her, and she was not sure that she wanted them to become living memories. She didn’t want to drag him into that horror.

London knew exactly what she was doing, so he spoke softly. He knew that whatever it was that she was seeing in her nightmares was nothing he had not seen before.

“My love, let me go there with you if it will help you put to rest the sorrow. I know I can help you because there’s no horror I have not already seen or not participated in, willingly and unwillingly. I am more than strong enough for you.”

Penelope leaned over and kissed him, knowing he was telling her the truth.

“Would you?”

Without waiting for the answer she already knew, she drew them into the memory. They were only observers, but what London saw made him clasp her to him as if to protect her from what was erupting around them.

Blood was splattered on virtually every surface and there were bodies on the floor, shredded by fang and claw. The Nazi officers were not all human, some of them were werewolves and vampires, so those humans in the library were among the first to die, including the young students who had been in there studying and assisting the master. Five altogether. Hecuba, one of the most senior servants was fighting two werewolves, while Socrates was dueling with the Dragon to the best of his ability, which was not very deft. He had grown soft manipulating centuries of his masterfully orchestrated tranquility. Give them what they want, and they will leave you in peace, were words that he lived by. But this time he could not play the blind pacifist, despite the milennia of walking the thin line between what was practical and what was moral.

Other servants ran in from all directions taking out anyone who was an enemy and surrounding the Dragon, forcing her to stop fighting and flee to the air. Things seemed to quiet.

Penelope had come in onto the scene from the south entrance and as she focused on what was happening she fell over the body of Cassiopeia. The flame haired woman had become a servant not long before Penelope herself, and was admired for her razor sharp wit and expertise with ancient symbology. Her throat had been torn out, but the fang marks on her arms and neck suggested that she had been dead long before the wolfman, who was bending over her body in a frenzy of bloodlust, began to violate her.

Penelope had taken the C96 Mauser pistol from her closet before heading to the library and with cold rationality put it up to the temple of the wolf, who was powerful enough to shift back to human form, shooting him point blank in the head. The bullets were silver, so two more shots in his chest killed him. But it was too late to help her friend now. If she did her job there would be time to mourn her later.

Penelope ran to join her master but was stopped short by the shrieking laughter of the Dragon as she ascended into the air, hovering just above their heads. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling that had been blasted apart with some sort of explosive. She was about to make her escape.

“Josef!” She called to one of the wolves who was still alive below.

Hecuba had killed his partner, and although she was very skilled he had managed to get the upper hand on her and was now holding her tightly to his body with a dagger at her throat. Under his arm was an ancient book.

Hecuba screamed as he dragged the dagger across her skin and blood seeped from the surface wound, dripping slowly down the line of her throat.

Socrates’ voice filled Penelope’s mind.

Do not let him leave with the book.

Penelope lowered her gun, and focused her eyes.

She concentrated on Josef. He was an alpha werewolf, but he was scared at the moment. He didn’t fully trust the Dragon, so Penelope played on that weakness. She filled his mind with scenes of outrageous torture and made him believe that those things would happen to him if the Dragon abandoned him here with them. Penelope had the talent of making her subject not only see what could be, but to feel it as well, and she delivered this with speed and as much cruelty as she could summon.

Her grandmother had told her that to inflict that type of pain, and have it be believed, you yourself had to truly want to inflict it. Helene’s words resonated with Penelope.

Never show them something you would be unwilling to do in reality. If you do, it will not be as powerful, and your enemy will know you are weak.

It did not surprise her, the cruelty of the image she gave to him. He was killing her friend, he and his compatriots had slaughtered innocent students, they were stealing from her master, and destroying their sanctuary. She wanted him to hurt.

The Dragon did her best to scream him into submission, but she could not call wolves, which meant her power over him was limited. By this time the library was teeming with servants and guards armed with silver plated swords, bullets and sharpened stakes, so she dare not descend again for she was outnumbered. She was going to have to leave without her prize.

Josef was still holding Hecuba, tightly clutching the dagger and the book, although now he was crying as he imagined being spiked out on a wooden board, hands and feet pierced with silver, with Penelope carefully drizzling molten silver over his chest and stomach, penis and thighs. The image was so real, so inconceivably real to him, that he sank to the ground and wept, releasing Hecuba who fell in a heap at his feet.

The Dragon was long gone, so Penelope let up her mental assault on Josef and turned to her master. She had thought that Josef was too far gone to muster any counter attack. Besides, in her mind, who wouldn't surrender under the same circumstances? Penelope's textbook versus practical experience was her ultimate downfall, because just that little bit of time was enough for the wolf to gather his senses. He raised the book and in one hand held a live grenade that he had clipped to his belt, out of everyone's sight.

Socrates screamed, “The book! He must not destroy the book!”

Penelope didn’t hesitate in the microseconds it took for her to realize her mistake. She was too far away, but Hecuba wasn’t. The older servant was wounded, but not mortally, however she was all but passed out from the pain of her injuries. Penelope reached into Hecuba’s mind and willed her to rise, controlling her body from a distance. By implanting the directions in her mind, Penelope told her exactly what to do and gave her the strength to withstand the pain that was firing throughout her broken body. In an instant the book was out of the wolf's hands and flying through the air where their master caught it, and Hecuba had thrown her body over Josef’s and the grenade.

The memory was gone.

Penelope sat shaking in London’s arms. He held her so tightly that he was afraid he might be hurting her, but when he tried to loosen his grip, she clasped him harder.

“There is more I want you to see,” she wept.

This time it was a memory of Penelope sitting in the moonlight looking over the ocean from a rocky crag. Socrates was there.

“Child, you must be ready to leave within the hour. The Dragon will be back for the book.”

“I don’t give a damn about the book.”

“You did what you had to do. You did your duty. So did she.”

“She had a name.”

“Yes, and when we get to our mountain fortress I am certain that you and the other servants will remember her sacrifice with the honor she deserves.”

“Their sacrifice, master. Cassiopeia was killed as well, and for her it may well have been a sacrifice. I've known her for centuries and she would have willingly died to protect you and the knowledge of this place from misuse. But it wasn’t the young one's choice, those women who died where they sat. It wasn’t Hecuba’s choice. I made her do it.”

“You did what you knew would eliminate the problem in the swiftest manner with the least collateral damage. Penelope, you served me well tonight.”

“Did I?”

“Of course. You always do.”

“Do you not feel their loss at all?” Penelope searched his stoic face for some sign of remorse or regret.

“Would it make you feel better if I said so?”

“No. I don’t suppose it would.” She turned her face back to the roar of the sea.

“I am glad to hear that. You know me well enough to know that I cannot lie to you anyway.” In the vision, Socrates moved as if to lay a hand on her shoulder, then pulled back, thinking better of it, and continued what sounded like a rehearsed speech.

“Penelope, you have learned well your lessons all these years and your command of your gifts has grown to be a great asset to me and to those I serve. It is even possible that you are my greatest achievement in teaching, so try not to waste too much time over-thinking what has transpired, for you have great possibilities in your future. Now go and gather your things, for we leave at midnight.”

That memory faded as well. But this time London forced her to look into his eyes.

“Penny,” he said gently, holding her face in his hands, “her death was not your fault. Years of training elicited a response. A reaction. You did not kill her for sport, or for pleasure, or for money.”

London wanted to punch that old philosopher in his sanctimonious face after seeing that memory and hearing what he said to her. He thought, no wonder she was so open and ripe for affection since she arrived. No wonder the need in her is so great.

Penelope was unconvinced, “But I forced her to throw herself on that grenade. I could have easily forced her to run in the other direction. But her body helped shield...”

Penelope couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

“The books.” London said. “I know that’s what you think. But there were people in that room too who could have been hurt or killed. I saw them and by her shielding the blast with her body she most likely saved their lives.”

“I guess I’ll never know. But that doesn’t change the fact that I took the choice of life or death away from her. I chose her to die.” Penelope let him cradle her in his arms, although at the moment she felt undeserving of comfort.

He stroked her back, “And you will carry that with you for as long as you walk the earth. As I carry all the innocent deaths that I caused, both as a living man and a vampire. I can tell you with certainty that most of the death I dealt did not carry such noble purpose.”

It was Penelope’s turn to hold on to her knight and she knew that this was as it should be. London had been a soldier, a man who did violent things because he was commanded to and so it became second nature. Although a vampire of Belle’s line, his human talents had more often led his masters to use him as a creature for terror rather than seduction. When he was ready, she knew that he would tell her his darkest pains as well because it was meant to be. Then they would move on, past it all, together.

For the last fleeting moments of the night, they crawled into her bed and held each other. The weight that had been lifted from her conscience was liberating. She now knew it was the right thing to do, keeping the details of what happened out of her letter to him back in ‘39. Even though he didn’t know all of the facts at the time, she knew he was with her then, now, and always would be.

As she thought about the comfort his written words had always brought to her, she realized that London had been the most consistent presence of her entire life. She was so glad she had waited to tell him, because finally telling the story needed the comfort and strength of his arms as she told it. The pen would not have been enough.

London, too was glad she had waited to tell him. If he had known back then, those years of no word from her would have driven him to madness a thousand times over. Now the waiting was done and he had the pleasure of feeling her fall asleep in his arms before he was claimed by the dawn.

It was one of the best day’s sleep Penelope had ever had.
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Chapter 29- Much Advice by nicola71
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Thank you to everyone who is reading! Reka, thanks for all the great advice
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Asher’s eyes opened slowly and he scented the air of his surroundings.

Jean.

When he arrived in Jean-Claude’s bedroom the previous night his intention was to discuss his Narcissus problem, but when he saw his lover, dressed in his favorite robe, other ideas took momentary precedence. Jean-Claude’s pale skin, peeking through the black sable and silk, was too much to resist.

The stress of the last few days must have shown on Asher’s face because Jean-Claude immediately took him in his arms and put a long graceful finger to his lips. They spent the remains of the darkness taking their pleasure in each other’s bodies and releasing some of that stress. It had become so easy to be together again, and at least with each other they knew there never had to be any words. They died in each other’s arms, as on so many other dawns in their never forgotten past.

But now the day was new, and the problems of old were still there to be discussed.

Jean-Claude, although he awoke far earlier than Asher, had remained in bed waiting and watching his lover’s breathless body. When Asher’s eyes turned to him, Jean-Claude greeted him with a long kiss.

“Good morning, mon amour.”

“Good morning.”

Asher sat up on one elbow and brushed the stray curls from Jean-Claude’s face.

“Waking up with you once again has been one of the best things to happen to me in months of many wonderful things. I hope you know that, Jean-Claude.”

“Moi aussi, mon coeur, moi aussi,” Jean-Claude whispered between soft kisses on Asher’s cheeks and lips. It was a custom of old for them, one they practiced with the women they loved as well.

“And...as much as I would like to call that sweet little wolf of yours in here and spend the day reminding you of what an ass you’ve been to keep me from your bed, there are things I must attend to. And I need your counsel.”

Jean-Claude let Asher’s small insult slide. He had a bit of making up to do to his chardonneret but they had plenty of time for that now that they were together once again. The Narcissus problem, however, was bleeding over into his personal business, and that was unacceptable.

Not only was it bad for business, but the Oba had created a publicity nightmare. Jean-Claude had people, of course, who were on it, but it was still a mess. That alone was enough to make him want to bleed the little hyena dry. Add into the mix their own personal history and the fact that she apparently had it in for Penelope, and that just made him all the more intent that something must be done. As Master of the City he could intervene, but because his temoin could call hyenas, that too was unacceptable. It would have made Asher, who was already perceived to be weak, appear impotent and pathetic. Jean-Claude would never allow that to happen. So he would remain the silent partner in this enterprise. At least he hoped he could.

“Asher, I believe you already know what you must do.”

“I cannot kill her.”

“No, you cannot.”

“I will not give her what she wants.”

“No, you will not.”

“Jean, you are being so helpful, no wonder you are master of us all!”

With a whoosh Asher was out of the bed and across the room, arms folded in disgust. His moods could still swing from one extreme to the other in a manner of seconds. Something that would most likely never change.

Even as he stood there in all his naked perfection, muscles flexing with agitation under the marble of his skin, Jean-Claude somehow found a way to look past his desire and find enough anger at Asher’s sudden snark to reply in kind.

“Que voulez-vous ? What do you want, Asher? Do you wish me to handle this for you? Must I clean up yet another of your messes?” It was Jean-Claude’s turn to unleash his disgust.

And that apparent disgust really pissed Asher off.

“I’m not asking you to ‘handle’ anything! I’m asking for your help as my friend and one that I love. I need your advice! Your ‘oh so wise’ counsel. Perhaps I should I call Anita instead, at least she’d have a useful suggestion.”

Jean-Claude frowned and searched for his robe amongst the tangled sheets of the bed, “yes, but that suggestion would include firearms, and I think that it is arms of another kind that Narcissus is interested in.”

“I will not be her lover, Jean-Claude. Non.”

“Perhaps it is not a lover that she needs.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I thought I could leave that life behind me.”

Now Jean-Claude got up in a huff. For as much as he loved Asher, this routine of constantly stroking his weeping wounds was wearing thin.

“Why are you suddenly so intent on changing something that has been a part of you for centuries? You are a top, a gloriously talented top. And you enjoy it, I know that you do.”

Asher’s face was shadowed in pain, as if the compliment from Jean-Claude had actually stung him.

“But it was not always so! It’s what was left for me after I was ruined,” Asher casually motioned to his scarred chest, “when no one would touch me out of desire or tenderness, I found that they would touch me out of fear. I prefer to be loved.”

Asher remembered what it was like for him at the beginning, when Belle relegated him to her torture chamber. The portrait of him as Vulcan, the one that he and Penelope had burned to ash, was the first, and sometimes the last thing her prisoners glimpsed before they saw the god made flesh. It was only after his successes in that chamber that Belle realized the entertainment factor that Asher could provide, first as the victim, and then many years later as the abuser. He learned to love what he did, and turned it to the only pleasure he was able to feel.

“You are loved. Mon dieu! When will you finally and fully believe that?”

“I thought that after having you back in my bed, and with Penelope, I wouldn’t need it anymore. I wouldn’t need it in such degrees.”

“But you do. Why are you reverting back to being ashamed of what you are?”

Asher thought back a few days when he was alone with Nathaniel, chatting about Anita learning to top him. He was always so excited and eager to play with them, and Nathaniel certainly was a willing and able submissive. The times they had spent together prior to Penelope’s arrival had been more than satisfying. Although it was obvious that the chaton missed his dom’s attentions, Nathaniel was so happy for Asher that he would never have mentioned it. It was at this realization that Asher thought about Penelope and what she might think of his activities with Nathaniel, let alone what he was capable of with Narcissus. His excitement turned to anguish. Penny had expressed interest in experimenting with light BDSM in the bedroom; a spanking, velvet restraints, a pull of the hair and rough wanton fucking, but he had been around the scene long enough to know that ‘light’ was her limit. It just wasn’t her thing. And ‘light’, although enjoyable and sensual and arousing, was not enough to sate what crouched in the darker corners of his mind.

“I thought it would be enough. Loving her. Loving you.” Asher turned from him.

Jean-Claude reached around and took his hand. “Enough to deny part of what makes you, you? Penelope is content not to share every aspect of you. I certainly do not share every aspect of Anita. Just because it was that way with Julianna doesn’t mean that is how it always works.” He laughed, but not his usual velvet coated laugh that could reach inside of a person. This laugh was tinged with his frustration. “You continue to underestimate your servant, Asher. She is not a wilting flower. She will not leave the circus screaming if you reveal your nature to her. I think we both know she will not want to participate in your more intense scenes. So what?”

Asher’s face flared with fury, “So what? I guess you would know about her limits, wouldn’t you, Jean? You did have her first.”

As soon as Asher said it he was sorry. He didn’t really feel that way, but he was frustrated and his old habit of blaming everyone and anyone for his problems was hard to break. He held his hand up, “Before you say anything, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

Jean-Claude reached out and took that hand as well, so he stood holding both of them to his heart. His face showed that he did indeed understand.

Asher sighed, wondering if Jean-Claude was right.

“Regardless if Penelope accepts what I need, and accepts that she’s not part if it, how on earth can I ask her to accept Narcissus? Even you shudder at the thought of her.”

“I have a past there, Asher. From before you arrived and that will never change, I’m sorry.” Jean-Claude’s face went blank as his mind slipped into his not so distant past.

Asher drew Jean-Claude into his arms. What he had endured during the reign of Nikolas was not something he talked about, and Asher had no intention of digging it up at the moment.

“I know, my love.”

Jean-Claude spoke into his embrace. “You have to go and sort this out. You must negotiate with her and find out exactly what she wants, and what you are willing to give in order to keep her in line. It might take surprisingly little to satisfy her. I believe that she only wants to be topped by you on occasion, not on your arm at the ballet. For all her insanity she does know how things work in our world. She is simply slighted at the moment, and that is your fault. Besides, whether you want to admit it or not, you understand her. You know what she needs.”

“I wish I didn’t. But you’re right. I made this a disaster by wanting to keep Penny insulated. That never works, and I know she does not judge me so it seems ridiculous to me now that I thought I had to protect her from that part of my life. The real problem is me, as always, I am the one who is a mess.”

Jean-Claude kissed him, “And a delightful mess you are.”

“So I should exact no punishment?” Asher wondered.

“Oh, you should exact much punishment. But how you do that is up to you. I would not encourage her behavior by rewarding her with what she wants. Let her know that I would as soon invite a new Oba to St. Louis than deal with her anymore. Do some research, throw out some names. Then try to find out what, if anything, will make her happy. If we must, we will make a move on her.”

“We?”

“The city is still mine, the last time I checked,” Jean-Claude moved away from Asher, just a bit. “We have enough outside problems at the moment to which I must devote much of my attention. I cannot afford for there to be dissent amongst my own people, and so one way or another this nonsense with the Oba must come to an end. But you have my word that I will not intervene unless it is a last resort. I trust you, my temoin. I trust that you will resolve this without it getting to that point.”

Asher broke away from the half embrace, picked up his robe and put it on, his long arms filling out the dark brown silk as it billowed around his body. Jean-Claude came behind him and embraced once again him laying his cheek against the taller man’s shoulder.

Asher turned and kissed him quickly, holding his gaze, “Then I must go. I would like to take Castor and Pollux with me, if you approve, as well as Ares and Ixion.”

“Any vampires?”

“Valentina?” Asher asked, half jokingly.

Jean-Claude made a face and didn’t even dignify the request with an answer.

“It was worth a try,” Asher smirked, “How about Faust, and Meng Die. She’s a handful, but if it gets tricky I know she will not hesitate. And Faust, well, he knows his way around the club.”

“Very well. I’ll have the WickedTruth on standby. They know how to make a point when necessary.”

“Agreed.”

“And what of your servant?”

“London will look after her. I have forbidden her to leave the circus, and before you say anything, we discussed it last night and she doesn’t have a problem with it.”

“We will all look after her,” Jean-Claude let his mind wander for a moment.

“I know that you will, Jean. I know.” Asher spoke with an undercurrent hinting to Jean-Claude that he might just know the thoughts that have been haunting the Master of the City since Penelope’s arrival, but he said nothing.

And with that, Asher glided out the bedroom door.

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After a shower, a feeding, and finding the most over the top fetish-wear with which to torture the Oba, Asher softly knocked on Penelope’s door. He sensed London pacing around the room, but he felt that Penelope was still in a deep sleep. The door opened slowly to London smiling and motioning to their sleeping beauty snuggled under the pale yellow sheets.

London couldn’t help but stare. Asher was clad in the tightest black leather pants he had ever seen. There was not a wrinkle in them and when Asher moved it was as if the leather itself was an entity, sliding over his skin. The belt was studded with silver spikes. Anyone who got too close was going to get quite a surprise. He was shirtless, exposing the scars on his chest. Two cuffs of black leather were wrapped around his wrists also with silver spikes, and in his hand a black leather hood, one that would essentially hide his face. His hair was glorious as always, golden and perfect, braided tightly to the his head. The boots he chose were thigh high, and laced up the back. London thought, that if he was going for an impression, he was certainly making it loud and clear.

“She’s been asleep for over 12 hours. I didn’t want to disturb her, but you should wake her if you’re leaving. I know she wants to say goodbye.” London made way for Asher to come inside.

“Actually, London, I would like to speak with you, out here.”

London stepped out into the hallway where the signs of the circus coming to life were all around them. All the regulars were getting ready for their various nights work and none of them could help but be dumbstruck at Asher’s imposing figure. London was only an inch shorter, but he was dwarfed by the image that Asher had chosen to portray.

“Yes, Asher?”

“She needs the sleep more than a kiss from me at the moment, but I wanted to talk to you about something important.” Asher wondered for a moment if they should have this conversation in privacy of his room, but then thought better of it. Why should it matter? What he was going to say was the truth, which was more than he could say of the recent newspaper articles that had been written about him.

“I’m listening.” London replied with as blank an expression as he could muster.

He and Asher had seemed to put the past behind them and come to a pleasant arrangement where Penelope was concerned. Even though their one night together was cut short, both vampires knew that at some point in the future it would occur again. Given their history and recent reconcilement, it was not an unwelcome future, and in fact they both found themselves looking forward to the possibilities of that future more than they had the many centuries before.

“I’m going to Narcissus in Chains tonight, and I’m not sure I will be back for several nights to come. It’s hard to tell.”

“Does she know?”

“Not that it might be days before I return. And I plan to be entirely shut down from her for as long as I am there.”

“Will you call on the phone at least?”

“Yes. When I can. And I will of course keep Jean-Claude informed of what is going on, so he is sure to bring her news. I don’t anticipate the situation to turn...violent.” Asher, of course meant non-consensual violence.

“What muscle are you taking with you?” London thought for a moment that perhaps he should accompany Asher. He had grown in power the last few months, and could likely have been Jean-Claude’s third, if he had the inclination to vie for the job. Temoin if he had the emotional connection to Jean-Claude that seemed to keep Asher in the position. But every vampire in St. Louis knew that would never happen.

“I want to take Castor and Pollux, as well as a few other Hyenas, Faust and Meng Die.”

London chuckled, “I hear Narci fears Meng.”

“That’s why I am bringing her.”

“Castor and Pollux?” London knew that Penny was already devoted to the brothers, but his soldier instincts made him always cautious of new allies.

“Narcissus is definitely afraid of them, and I think they need some room to flex. Jean-Claude cleared them for me and they have more than regained their strength from last night. Their power is...substantial.” Asher added, after a brief pause in thought, “Besides, now that they know that Penelope was the target of Narcissus’ plot, they are hungry to even the score, but not stupidly so. Ares has been briefing them all morning.”

“Sounds like you have thought of everything, Asher.” London was puzzled as to the lengthy explanation.

“Well, yes. And that is where you come in.” Asher took a breath, displaying his nervousness. “If anything should happen to me...”

“Asher...”

“Non! Listen to me. I don’t expect it to be dangerous, just arduous, but just in case, for future reference, if anything were ever to happen to me I know she would survive it. I’ve felt it. I would not be able to drag her to death with me, and I wouldn’t want to. If I were mortally wounded, with no hope of survival, I would use all the power left to me to make sure she was released.”

London stood very still, half knowing what Asher was about to ask him.

“Yes, I know you would.”

“And if that should ever happen, I want your word that you would make her your servant. That you would give her the marks immediately despite any protestations she might make. Eventually she would understand. And she loves you so, that she would never hate you for doing it.” he paused trying to decide how to put it into words, “ I have felt the depths of her love for you, London. I sometimes wonder if she would survive your death.” Asher couldn’t look at him when said those words. There was no doubt in his heart concerning Penelope’s love and devotion, and he knew exactly where he stood in her heart, but he knew her feelings for the knight ran deeply as well. He accepted this, and loved her even more for her capacity for love.

London didn’t know what to say. After her confession the previous night, and knowing that Asher knew little of that particular pain she carried, he finally felt that he had a part of her that was completely his. Now Asher, his newly reconciled friend, was asking him to take all of her in the case of his real and true death. It was too much. London was presented with his one heart’s desire, his secret wish, and suddenly found himself hoping and praying that it would never, ever happen. The sorrow would be too much for all of them.

“Asher, there is no need to have this conversation. If you are unsure of what might happen tonight...I can go...”

“Non, mon ami,” Asher put his hands on London’s shoulders and laughed, “ I am not unsure about anything. In fact I am very sure about everything. I just want your word that you will always be there for her. Period.” He looked him squarely in the eyes, “I remember what you said the night she became mine, London. When I almost couldn’t go through with it. I felt it then, that you would always be there to protect her. To love her. It was something I should have asked of Jean-Claude with Julianna, but it was a different time and I was a different vampire then. I thought we had forever, and my arrogance was insurmountable. I also believed that death of the master meant death of the servant, because that is what I had been told. I no longer believe that now.”

Asher had never spoken of the night of the ceremony, but he most certainly remembered London’s frantic desperation. He knew in that instant what the dying woman in his arms meant to the knight and it bolstered his courage to do what he had to do. Asher owed that courage to London, and he had no doubts about the vampire who stood before him, now.

His expression changed from one of melancholic remembrance to rougish impishness in a moment, as he slapped London on both arms. “Believe me, mon chevalier, I plan on being back in her arms before the end of the weekend, taking my pleasures and kicking you to, how does Jason put it? The proverbial curb?”

London smiled, “You can make light of it all you want, frog.” He paused, although his answer was always, “Yes. I give you my word that I would take her as my servant. But first, it will never happen. Period. And second, you didn’t even have to ask because my life is bound to hers, no matter if it’s not magic that binds us. But there is one condition, we will never speak of this again, understand? It’s discussed, agreed upon, and over.”

“Agreed.” Asher kissed the knight on both cheeks and gently, and perhaps teasingly, on the lips before turning down the hallway. He looked over his shoulder waving the leather hood at him, “Enjoy her company all you can, mon chevalier, but don’t you dare tire her out! When I get back I am ordering a week’s worth of French take-out, chaining Nathaniel to the bedpost and having my servant for breakfast lunch and dinner!”

London smiled and slipped back into Penelope’s room. Until then, he thought, I’ll have her all to myself.
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Chapter 30- Waking Up Hungry by nicola71
Author's Notes:
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Thanks to Reka for her mad beta skilz! And to Subbie for all of her support always! I hope everyone is enjoying the story as much as I am enjoying writing it!
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Penelope opened her eyes but didn’t move. She heard Asher’s voice in the hallway talking to London and it put a smile on her face. It sounded like they were at the joking end of a serious conversation, because she heard Asher’s barb about French food, and imagined the sour look it drew all over London’s face. He had become so much more expressive with her and Asher in the last few weeks, and for a vampire that was real progress.

But she could not feel anything from her master. She assumed that was his wish, and so she closed her eyes, and closed herself off from him. She slowed her breathing when she heard the door open and felt London come in toward the bed. He could sense she was awake.

He slid his hand along the bed covers until he got to her foot, then traced his way up her leg, over the down comforter to her exposed arm. His fingers lighted over the silk of her pajama top, around her shoulder to her face. He tucked her hair behind her ear as she opened her eyes for him.

“Good morning,” he bent in and kissed her as he sat on the bed in the nook her body made for his.

“Morning,” she kissed him back and took his hand in hers. She felt rested but not in any hurry to get up. What they had shared in the last moments before dawn had taken more out of her than she expected. But despite that, she felt better than she had in a long time with that particular story off her chest. The look in London’s eyes told her that she should feel no shame.

“Asher is gone, isn’t he?”

“The sun has not yet set, but he is gone to a briefing with his men. He said goodbye. Are you upset that he didn’t come in here himself?”

“No, not upset. He must have had his reasons.” She patted the bed to invite him to lay with her and snuggle a bit. He readily complied and laid down facing her, pressing as much of his body to hers as he could and still look at her face. Even with clothes on, just touching their bodies together awakened both spirit and magic.

“He asked me to tell you that he would be shut down until this business with Narcissus was over, but that he would call to check in and that you shouldn’t worry.” London was unsure she would buy all of that, but it was all he had to offer. He’d never lied to her and wasn’t about to start now.

“I’m oddly not worried at all. He must feel very confident, and for that I’m grateful. Until he calls for me there is nothing I can do.” Penelope was so at ease that she wondered what Asher had done to make it so. He could control her feelings if he wanted to, and right now she felt safe and comfortable. She relaxed into London’s arms, “Asher said that you promised to help me ‘relax’”

London smiled, “I would like to try. I can’t say I’m not a little excited at the prospect of having you all to myself for a little while.” He didn’t even try to hide his happiness, he wanted her to know how much their private times meant to him.

“Hmmm...and what an attractive gaoler you are!” She said with just the slightest hint of her masters signature snark.

London frowned, “now, Penny, I agree with Asher that it’s best to stay in the circus,” he knew she wasn’t happy about that part.

For a moment her eyes seemed to go far away.

“I miss the ocean air,” Penelope didn’t know exactly where that thought came from. She did indeed miss the ocean air of her island home, but it simply fell out of her mouth with no rhyme or reason.

London was surprised, “I wish I could take you there, Penny.” Was all he said when there was a knock at the door.

Jason poked his head in, “I hope I’m interrupting something! Don’t bother getting dressed, I promise I won’t look... much.”

“Jason!” they said in unison.

“Relax, keep your fangs on, London. Just bringing some breakfast for Penny. For you both actually if you want.”

Jason brought in a huge tray of hot breakfast food.

“Asher asked me to bring you a healthy and hearty breakfast, and as usual, I aim to please!”

Jason had taken the role of Penny’s unofficial daytime companion. She suspected that Jean-Claude was behind it at first, but hoped that it was genuine friendship that kept him coming back. Jason’s position in the kiss was certainly high enough that he didn’t have to bring her anything. He did it because he wanted to do it.

London took the tray and placed it on Penny’s lap as she sat up in bed. “You need to eat everything on this tray.”

The tray was almost bigger than Penelope. She looked at her lover and playfully smacked his arm.

“Two weeks ago you thought I was getting fat, now this?” Penelope teased her knight about his earlier faux pas.

“You have to eat, love, that’s another part of my job this weekend. Keeping you fed so if Asher needs to draw some power...”

“He can. I know. I’ll eat. I’m starving actually and can’t remember the last time I had any food!”

Jason hopped up on the bed with them as Penelope sat up. The smells from the tray were divine. Chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, two eggs sunniside up, mixed berries with cream, mint tea and a large glass of V8.

“Nathaniel must be here in the kitchen this afternoon,” she smiled. He was the only one who could make such perfect pancakes. Ever since more people who actually ate food were living at the circus, the kitchen had been expanded and anyone who had a talent for cooking was in high demand.

“Lancelot, you care for something wolfy with a side of smart ass today?”

London’s face was far off for a moment, but when he came back he said, “Not really. Where did you say Nathaniel was?”

London’s position as Anita’s sometime pomme, gave him the privilege of feeding from Nathaniel or Jason whenever either of them offered. Jean-Claude did not stand on ceremony and when it came to blood donations, it was really up to the donors themselves.

London had yet to choose his own pomme de sang, although he certainly had enough clout to do so. Something was keeping him from making that decision though. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. What he did know at the moment, was that the willing wolf in the bed with them was not quite what he yearned for today.

Jason lay there dejected.

“WHAT! I plate all this for you,” he motioned to his neck, “and you want the cook!”

Penelope blushed, and all three laughed as London got up in search of a feed. He was suddenly very hungry, which was a little unusual, but not so much that it caused him distress.

“Wolf, although you are delectable, I think that you still need some recovery time from your last donation,” bringing up Asher sent Jason rolling on the bed with an enormous smile. London charged him with a stern, playfully menacing look, “See that she eats every morsel.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Where are you going?” Penelope was puzzled.

“I am going to feed, and then I am meeting you in the gym.”

“What!?”

“We have a long night, and I have plans for you, my love. Meet me in the gym and be ready to sweat,” he winked at Jason which elicited a barrage of whistles and hoots.

London was relieved that Penelope didn’t beg him to wait for her, because he couldn’t have said no. He wanted to make sure the gym was empty when they worked out, and although he knew his reasons were irrational, they were still his reasons.

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Penelope was swallowing the last drops of V8 when a pair of purple lace panties landed on the tray in front of her.

“Jason! What are you doing going though my underwear drawer?”

“Getting you your gym clothes, silly.”

She held up the unmentionables,“I don’t think my sweats are in that drawer, and I certainly don’t think I will be needing these.”

“You mean you weren’t planning on wearing panties? You naughty girl! No wonder London’s so keen to pump some iron!”

Penelope cried out in mock frustration, “Jason, I’m capable of getting my own clothes out and deciding what underwear, if any, to put on! If. You. Please.”

The wolf turned and pounced on the bed, stretching out next to Penelope and flashing her his sweetest smile.

“So...I guess things are going well for you and old Dark and Moody?”

His reference to London produced a large frown on her face.

“I would hardly call him that. At least not anymore.” She smirked.

“You know, Penny, I think you should...”

Jason was interrupted by a knock on the door. Requiem poked his head in and Penelope jumped out of bed and into his embrace.

“Requiem! Where have you been?”

“Someone has to run your new club, milady,” he bowed low and kissed both of her hands.

Since Asher and Penelope had been holed up in the circus, Requiem had taken over running Veritas,. He loved it, and wouldn’t mind being put there permanently. Stripping, although something he was no doubt talented at, was not something he wished to do for the long term.

Penelope was shocked and a little embarrassed that she had forgotten all about Veritas. Here she had been an entrepreneur for all of one night, and she was already ignoring her duties.

“Oh, Requiem! Thank you so much! Is everything okay there? We were expecting a large shipment yesterday, and there were at least three parties booked! Oh, and one tonight for the mayor’s wife’s birthday! I have to...”

Requiem silenced her with a shake of his head and a flash of his exquisite blue eyes.

“Milady, it is all taken care of. No worry should cross your mind.”

“Are you sure, I should be there, I should...”

“Shhhh! I know you’re under house arrest this weekend, and I know your warden very well. That he is not here at this moment listening to every careful breath you take is a sheer miracle.”

“She’s meeting him in the gym,” Jason piped up from the bed.

“Ah...his sanctuary.” Requiem looked at Jason, as if he knew he had said something he should not have.

Penelope questioned, “His sanctuary?”

Requiem changed the subject, “You had better get dressed and get down there or London will be sending out a small army to find you.”

“Okay, but do you promise to give me a full report about Veritas tomorrow afternoon, as soon as you wake?”

“I should be hoisted with mine own petard, if I do not, milady.”

Penelope laughed and went into the bathroom to get ready, leaving the two men alone.

Jason said, “She doesn’t know how much time he spends in there, does she?”

“No, my little wolf, she does not. And it is not ours to tell.”

“She had to notice how much bigger he’s got! Christ, he’s practically bulging out of every shirt he has!”

“Let him tell her, Jason.”

Jason shrugged not understanding what the big deal was, but then again he wasn’t as close to London as Requiem. Certainly not close enough for confidences.

Requiem left quietly, leaving Jason to wait for his charge. Penelope didn’t know it, but London had made Jason swear on his life not to leave her alone for a second. And London was not a vampire that Jason intended to cross, especially where his lady love was concerned.

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“Penelope, are you ready yet?” Jason had worked his way through all of Penelope’s lingerie, and was now laying on the bed once again. He loved the smell of her sheets because they smelled like her and vampire. Like everyone who came in contact with Penelope, her perfume captivated him, and he wondered what it was made from.

Penelope emerged from the bathroom, showered and primped.

Jason couldn’t help himself as usual, “Uh, you are going to the gym, you know.”

“I know. Does that mean I can’t be presentable?” Penelope never went anywhere unkempt. Her old master did not expect glamor, but he also did not tolerate a slovenly appearance. She was dressed in simple black yoga pants and a form fitting hot pink athletic tank. Her hair was in a high ponytail, off her neck, which highlighted the faded marks of fangs. Two sets.

They walked through the halls bantering about silly things. Penelope enjoyed Jason’s company and had confided many small things in him. He was probably the closest friend she had in the circus, because many of the other inhabitants still kept their distance for one reason or another. When she first arrived she expected that she an Anita would be fast friends, but she soon found that Anita’s life wasn’t really constructed to maintain close friendships. Even though when they were together it was relaxed and social, Anita just seemed to always be somewhere else, and when she was in the circus she was usually holed up in Jean-Claude’s rooms. A strong friendship with her was going to take time. But Penelope had never had a male friend, at least not in the flesh, so that made Jason extra special.

Before they got to the gym Jason put his hand on Penelope’s arm. They were out of earshot of anyone, which was why he took advantage.

“Penny,” his face turned serious for a moment.

“Jason?”

“I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming here. For hanging in all these months when it seemed like Asher was never going to come around. For making Asher bearable, that’s a big one. For making London happy, too.”

“I am very happy here, Jason. That helps, being happy yourself.”

“I wish everyone could get that, Penny.”

“Are you happy?” She reached for his hand, wondering about where this conversation was going. She had never seen Jason anything but smiling, so she worried that something was wrong.

“I am happy, I guess. Jean-Claude is a little happier too, so that transfers to me, more than you know. I like when he feels good. I love him.”

Jason did love his master, but he also probably knew him better than people might think. Having Asher back in his bed and in his life, and more importantly a ‘happy Asher’ had caused Jean-Claude to smile privately more than Jason could remember. Jean-Claude always had a smile for him, but Jason watched him very closely over the years, and rarely saw him smile when no one was looking. Now Jean-Claude smiled when no one was watching. It made Jason feel really good.

Jason pulled her into a quick hug, turned her around and whacked her butt hard, pushing her in the direction of the gym.

“OUCH!” Penny rubbed his target, “Hey, Jas?”

“Yes? If you want more of that, you know I am available whenever you have a free moment. I know your mid-mornings are often free,” he winked, apparently back to his old licentious self.

“What were you trying to say to me, back in my room before Requiem came in?”

Jason had a few things he wanted to say, but he hoped she might figure out some of those things on her own, and thought better about bringing them up at the moment. He had wanted to talk to her about her future plans. About how she was balancing two guys like Asher and London, and what she imagined her future was going to be like. And where Jean-Claude fit into that equation. He had felt his master’s mixed feelings about her but had not dared to say anything as yet. There was something there, he just knew it, and he didn’t want it to mess up what seemed like a good thing.

“Nothing important, Penny. Nothing that can’t wait.”

“Okay,” she grabbed a towel from the bin and went through the door, “catch you later, before you leave for the club?”

Penelope disappeared into the gym before he could answer.