Ceremony In Death

"How bad did he hurt you?" As she rolled the woman over, she saw the glint of a blade. It was pressed, keen-edged, against her stomach before she saw Selina's face.

"All I have to do is push, just a little." Selina smiled. "I'd enjoy that. But for now…" Her hand tapped against Eve's throat. She felt the pressure and the sting an instant before her vision blurred.

"Now you're going to help me to the car. Or it's going to look that way if anyone notices." Smiling, Selina put her arms around Eve, keeping close so it appeared she was being lifted to her feet. "And if you don't do exactly what I say, your guts will hit the sidewalk and I'll be gone before you realize you're dead."

Eve's head was swimming, her legs like rubber as Selina led her down the sidewalk. "Get in," Selina ordered, "slide over."

She found herself obeying dully, while a part of her mind screamed in protest. "Not so smart now, are you, Lieutenant Dallas? Not so cool. We led you right where we wanted you. Stupid bitch. How do you set this thing to auto?"

"I – " She couldn't think. Fear couldn't get through the haze, nor could anger or training. She stared blankly at the controls. "Auto?"

Her voice was enough. The vehicle shuddered, then hummed discordantly.

"I don't believe you're in any shape to drive." Selina threw back her head and laughed. "Give it the address. My apartment. We have a very special ceremony in mind for you."

Mechanically, Eve repeated the address and stared straight ahead as the vehicle slowly slid from the curb. "Not Forte," she managed, struggling to snap back. "It was never him."

"That pathetic excuse for a man? He couldn't kill a fly if it landed on his dick. If he's got one. But he and that half-breed Wiccan are going to pay. You've seen to that, haven't you? They thought they could save poor little Alice. Well, so did her stupid grandfather. See where it got them. No one challenges me and lives. You'll find out just how much power I have very soon now. And you'll beg me to kill you and end it."

"You killed them all."

"Every one of them." Selina leaned closer. "And more. Many more. I enjoy the children most. They're so… fresh. I walked right in on the grandfather, used his weakness for females. Sobbed, told him I was afraid for my life. Alban would kill me. Then I slipped the drugs into his drink and I killed him. I wanted blood but, well, it was nearly as satisfying to watch his eyes as he realized he was dying. You've seen how the eyes die first, haven't you, Dallas? They die first."

"Yes." The mists were moving back to the corners of her mind. She could feel her legs and arms tingle as the nerves pumped back to life. "Yes, they do."

"And Alice. I was almost sorry when we had to end that. Tormenting her day after day was so arousing. They way she would jump at a cat or a bird. Droids. Easily programmed. We used the cat that night, had it speak to her with my voice. We were waiting for her, we had plans for her, but she ran into the street and killed herself instead.

"So we'll do to you what we'd pla

As the car veered toward the curb, Eve tested her hand, forced it into a fist. She struck out, backhanded, felt the satisfying co

And the world went black.

– =O=-***-=O=-

"She should be here by now." Though her apartment was filled with people and noise and wildly spi

"She'll be right along." Roarke managed to avoid being butted by a red-robed bull, lifted a brow at the manic call of "Toro!" An angel spun by, desperately dancing with a headless corpse.

"I really wanted her to see what Leonardo and I have done with the place." Proud, Mavis turned a quick circle. "She'd never recognize her old digs, would she?"

Roarke sca

"No." He could agree with complete honesty. "She'd never recognize her old apartment. You've done… wonders."

"We just love it. And we've got the best landlord on planet." She kissed him enthusiastically.

While he hoped her purple lipstick hadn't transferred to his face, he smiled. "My favorite tenant."

"Could you call her, Roarke?" With fingers tipped the same shade, she plucked at his sleeve. "Just give her a little goose."

"Of course. Go play hostess, and don't worry. I'll get her here."

"Thanks." She rolled off on glittery, red-wheeled shoes.

Roarke turned with the idea of hunting up somewhere quiet to make his call, then blinked at the apparition. "Peabody?"

Her elaborately painted face fell. "You recognized me."

"Barely." With a faint smile, he stepped back to take a full measure.

Long blonde hair swirled over her shoulders, down her back, over the tiny scallop-shaped bra that covered her breasts. From the waist down, she was encased in shimmering green.

"You make a lovely mermaid."

"Thanks." She perked up again. "It took me forever to rig myself out."

"How the hell do you walk?"

"I've got a cutout for my feet, the skirt of the tail covers it." She wiggled back. "Pretty restrictive to movement though. Where's Dallas?" She twisted her head to search. "I want her to get a load of it."

"She isn't here yet."

"No?" Because she hadn't worn her watch, she peered down at his. "It's almost ten. She was only going to stake out Isis's place for a couple hours then come straight here."

"I was about to call her."

"Good idea." Peabody tried to ignore the prickle of nerves. "She's probably stalling. She hates stuff like this."

"Yes, you're right." But she'd have been there for Mavis, he thought as he slipped into the corner. And for him.

When her 'link went unanswered, he bypassed security and called through her communicator. There was a humming buzz that indicated it was on standby, but it went unanswered.

"Something's wrong," he said when he stepped back up to Peabody. "She isn't picking up."

"Let me get my bag, try her communicator."

"I already tried it," he said shortly. "She isn't picking up. She was staking out Spirit Quest?''

"Yeah, she wanted to talk to Isis… let me get out of this costume. We'll go check it out."

"I can't wait for you." He pushed his way through the crowd as Peabody shuffled and looked for Feeney.

– =O=-***-=O=-

She thought it was a dream at first when she woke, groggy and hot. Her head spun, and when she tried to lift a hand to it, she found she couldn't move.

Panic rushed in first. Her hands were bound. He'd often tied her hands when she was a child. Tied her to the bed, clamped a hand over her mouth to hold in her screams when he raped her.

She pulled at them, felt the vague, faraway pain of the straps cutting into her wrists. Her breath sobbed out as she struggled. Her legs were secured as well, tied down at the ankles so that her thighs were spread.

She whipsawed her head, trying to see. Shadows shifted through the room, chased by the flickering lights of dozens of candles. She could see herself in a mirror, a wall of black glass that reflected images and light.

She wasn't a child, and it wasn't her father who had tied her.

She forced down the panic. It wouldn't help. It never did. She'd been drugged, she told herself. She'd been brought here, stripped naked, and tied to a marble slab like a piece of meat.

Selina Cross meant to kill her, and maybe worse, unless she could keep her mind clear and fight back. She continued to work at her wrist straps, twisting, tugging, while she forced her mind to focus.