Moon Over Bourbon Street<br/>Something Wicked This Way Comes<br/>Ximen, Heirarch of New Orleans<br/>Frederick, Heirarch's Provost<br/>'Burin' Elijah Warden, Thyrsus Free Council<br/>'Vulpes' Prof. Elliot Van Graaf, Obrimos Guardian of the Veil<br/>S.J. Jones, Acanthus Free Council<br/>'Damon Jones' Tsutomu Fujimoto, Mastigos Silver Ladder<br/><strong>'Obsidian' Reine Valentine, Moros Adamantine Arrow</strong><br/>Elizabeth Brown, Thysus Mysterium<br/>August 22nd, 2005<br/>Royal Sonesta Hotel – Private Suite<br/><br/><br/>Reine Valentine.  Hunter.  Warrior.  Assassin.  Her entire world revolved around Death.  It was everywhere.  Nowhere.  Even sex brought on un Petite Morte.  She could not escape it even if she wanted to.  No, she was Moros.  She embraced Death as she would a lover.  Silently, she shifted her weight in the rafters of the warehouse  She resisted the urge to pluck at her white lace tank top as the sultry heat sending a trickle of sweat to tickle between her breasts.  She thanked the Dead she had the foresight to tie her long dark hair into a tight ponytail.  The air was stale and still but held the damp of the Lower Mississippi River.  A girl of the bayous, one would think she would be used to the heat but traveling the world had gotten her used to other climates.  Still, N' Awlins was home and a little heat was not going to interfere with doings.<br/><br/>Normally, the warehouse was abandoned.  Not today and apparently every Monday before she showed up today.  Oh, but today would be different.  She had spent the last two weeks tracking this particular idiot.  Having returned to N'Awlins for reasons of her own when the residents of Roux Chien, her native bayou, complained to her of their missing girls.  The local traituer had found her.  It certainly would have taken faith to locate her.  They had come to her knowing no one cared if a girl of the deep swamp disappeared and that kind of injustice did not sit well.  Not even with Reine.  She didn't so much as care what happened to the girls but it was important that the life, the place she left behind remain a perfect memory.  So here she was, sweating in an abandoned warehouse that had the faint smell of old shrimp.  If she didn't have more fortitude, she would have puked a while ago from the rank smell.  No, she was trained beyond that of a normal human.  Hell, she was trained beyond a human when she was still fully human.<br/><br/>For the last half hour, she had listened to the mewling of the girl and the benign chatter of the man.  If she had not the patience, she would have swooped down fifteen minutes ago and slit his throat.  Oh, but she wanted to know.  Was this man like her or a charlatan.  Those were the worst.  The charlatans.  Sometimes, just sometimes, the Sleepers found a way.  Foolishly so, but they found a way to harness a small bit of magic.  Then they got killed.  There were consequences to messing with the Supernal world.  Today, she was this man's consequence.<br/><br/>Below her about twenty five feet, was a crudely drawn circle with symbols.  She had to admit the man had an artistic hand but his symbols were wrong.  She had been examining a few of the runes he was using when her lip curled into a snarl.  Nothing was more disgusting than an idiot who tried to call upon demons.  They were rare but human greed called them faster than any spell.  No spell set by a mere Sleeper would be able to contain the power and no circle with as many mistakes as this one would hold one indefinitely.  Now the question was, let him go on with this insane idiocy and see what happened or watch and clean up the mess.<br/><br/>Reine ran through the growing list of the man's dumb ass mistakes, one being the fact he was doing it in the middle of the morning.  Did this man research nothing?  This was becoming all too boring.  Virgin sacrifice (though if that girl was a virgin, then she was the Holy Mother), demonic summoning circle, crazy wannabe serial killer.  All these things made her want to laugh.  It was like an Awakened's bedtime story.  Once upon a time, there was a bad man and he was a fucking idiot......<br/><br/>She giggled from her perch, surrounded in darkness surrounded by her Nimbus.  The man looked around, suddenly nervous as the shadows deepened and the dark stirred.  His eyes roamed the entire warehouse but he never looked up.  Not that he could have seen her.  She was wrapped in a cloak of shadow.  The stupid man returned to putting the finishing touches on his elaborate setup.  Yuck!  Apparently wearing nothing but a purple cloak was one of the prerequisites of a demon summons.  The need to vomit grew worse as she averted her eyes from the horribly hairy man's body.  Yeah, he needed to die from that alone.  He looked like a short, fat version of  like Bigfoot...only not big....at all.<br/><br/>He walked over to the girl and began to fondle her naked and bound body in the center of the circle.  He squeezed and pinched at her breasts and moved farther down her stomach until he was violating her with his fingers.  He, of course, was getting off on it.  Reine only noticed that part because she was squinting.  The girl screamed through her gag and bucked her body to dislodge him to no end.  All the while he was whispering words from a piece of paper set down beside his sacrificial lamb.  What an amateur.  He began to make bloody knicks with his Wal-Mart special athame over her chakras and the air began to stir.<br/><br/>Reine felt it like a cold finger down her back.  Making a face, she reached out to the dead.  She felt them.  So many.  Now that made sense.  There was enough death in this warehouse, in this place that went back a hundred years.  Some of it was painful, some was just happenstance.  Still, it was enough to create a ley point.  There must have been something as tragic as a fire that killed many to create it.  She sighed.  If she let it go any further, he might actually bring something across and with that heavy feeling that seemed to hang over the city, she couldn't take the chance.<br/><br/>She slipped from her perch, her sleeveless Chinese long coat billowing about her like dark wings.  She must have looked stunning because the man's jaw gaped.  For one split second, she imagined what she must have looked like to him.  A beautiful woman in leather shorts and black long coat about to stomp his face with her four inch suede black boots.  A wet dream indeed, if not for the disappating cloud of darkness and the wickedly sharp wakazashi flashing in a cross guard over her ample chest.<br/><br/>Silent, always silent.  You die alone, that is a given.  People tend to leave out the utter silence.  Reine was silent.  A silent, beautiful death.  The next half of the second, was the weight of her body pushing the man to the ground, her silvery blade sharp against his throat.  Cold gray eyes looked down upon him, his own eyes dazed from hitting his head on the concrete.  Cold and disgusted.  The only indication of her emotion was the line of red that seamed against the tip of her blade.  It was not going to be an exciting kill but it was going to be a kill.<br/><br/>“You doing a bad thing here, little man.  No one be taking the gator bait of the swamps and getting' their ways with it,” she said. Letting her creole accent drawl out with slow exaggeration.  She pressed her blade harder, the thread of crimson running a bead down the sharp edge of her clean blade.  “Now, ya messin' with the Devil's work and I'm guessin' he not gonna like dat one bit but you can be splainin' that to him yaself, see.  Now, you just might be thinkin' what's a girlie like me knowin' about ole Horns and Tail.  I can tell you...absolutely nuttin'.  But.....I knows all about Death.  No needin' to consider your livin'. It means nuttin''.  It means everytin'.  'Afore I send you off to burn in the hellfires, I show you.”<br/><br/>At this point, the man managed to gather his wits and sneer at Reine.  Such a mistake.  Everything about this man was a mistake.  “You crazy bitch.  Get the fuck off me.  I'll kill you.  First I'll fuck your holes and make you beg me to sto-.”<br/><br/>The man should have just shut his mouth from the start.  Her gray eyes went from cold to arctic and her smile...that slow serpent smile made the man piss.  Luckily, his inconsiderable penis bent downward.  If she had to move because of a disgusting shower, she would have started on his dick like she was a deli slicer.  Lucky him.  She bent lower, her voice no longer soft and drawling.  Still music to any man's ears but the sensually dulcet tones had lost both emotion and accent.  She was no longer playing, she was all business now.<br/><br/>“You have brought upon you the ire of the Supernal world.  By taking the women of the Bayou you have drawn attention to yourself and now all eyes look to the shadows.  Before this gets worse, I must right this wrong.  If the police investigate to hard, it may lead them in directions they cannot begin to fathom.  I cannot allow this.  The Veil cannot be parted.  And so you must die, but I am compassionate.  I will show you the meaning of your death.  I will show you it's truths,” she voiced as if her voice was not her own.<br/><br/>No longer was Reine's wakazashi at the man's throat.  With speed no eye could follow, her blade now rested between the man's ribs.  Pressing her other hand into his throat, she had a momentary feeling that someone was watching her and it was not the ghostly multitude.  Shaking it, she pushed her blade upward, slowly, ever so slowly.  The man screamed and choked, eyes bulging in pain and fear.  She made no indication she felt or cared.  She worked silently, her short blade missing every vital organ.  She only stopped when the sharp edge tickled the muscle of his beating heart.<br/><br/>She bent forward, to whisper in his ear.  He would hear her because he had stopped screaming.  Now he was just crying and whimpering.  That was good.  She turned her head to look at the girl, the girl who only stared at the whole thing.  Who only nodded for Reine to continue.  Bloodthirsty thing, she thought to herself.  She put her full lips near the man's ear once more, careful not to touch the filth.<br/><br/>“Death waits for you.  Death is patient and now Death has come for you.  You look upon your life now and you see nothing.  So is it on the other side.  Right now, this moment, you stand between those worlds.  You see, don't you?  No, you wouldn't.  Your kind would never see such enlightenment.  If you see the Devil, tell him I'm still paying my dues.”<br/><br/>She flicked her wrist and sliced his heart in half, the balde going until it was blocked by the man's ribcage.  She pulled the wakazashi free of the convulsing man and as she rose from his body, she sliced open his belly.  His writhing body pushed out his entrails.  It was a gruesome sight but she stood there and contemplated the dying light in his eyes.  He had grown still and the only sound in the warehouse was the dripping blood from her blade and the heavy panting of the girl.  Deciding that there was nothing worth noting about the man's death, she flicked her blade, the ichor and blood spraying off.  From a small pocket inside her coat, she pulled out a square of silk and rubbed off the remnants of blood as she walked toward the girl.<br/><br/>She smiled gently as the girl shrank from her and raised her blade and brought it down as the girl raised her hands into the air as if to stave off her own death.  The ropes parted and the girl wrists were freed to her surprise.  Sheathing the blade she looked hard at the trembling blond creature.<br/><br/>“You go home now.  You say nothing.  You tell Mama La Couer it is done.  Tell her to never call on me again,” Reine said.  She didn't need to kill the girl.  You couldn't grow up in the deep swamp and not brush with things from the other side.  That and this was Mama La Couer's granddaughter and apprentice.  She walked away from the girl and turned the wheel on a huge water main.  The rusted sound of metal squealing shrieked into the rafters and water poured forth thunderous.  She and the girl watched as the force of the water pushed the dead body of the would be charlatan into the river through a boat dock inside the warehouse  The splash wasn't even heard.  “You die silent and alone.”<br/><br/>Reine walked out of the warehouse her cloak of shadows wrapping around her and hiding her.  She left the girl to her own devices.  Her Meme had owed a favor to the La Couer woman and now all debts were settled and her life from before closed.  Still, the bayou, it doesn't let go of you just like that.  It would find a way to bring her back.  Not even Death could stop it, she supposed.  Her steps took her away from the Port of New Orleans and to her waiting bike.  Except it looked like her precious Ducati had company.  A long, ominous black Humvee limousine waited there.  She didn't pause in her steps but each footfall changed.  The weight went from the her heels to the balls of her feet.  One of the dark tinted widows lowered and she nearly paused in her approach.  Why would Frederick, Provost to the Heirarch be calling on her.  She shuddered knowing she had no choice but to get into the limo.<br/><br/>“Good morning, sir,” she said, hopping up into the waiting vehicle and taking a seat across from him.  She called him sir because she felt it prudent to be respectful.  She asked no questions.  She demanded no answers.  If he was to kill her, he would have already done it.  He was obviously taking her somewhere and someone else had all the answers.  The ride was silent.  Like Death.  Her mouth was dry of a sudden.  For some reason, this ride felt worse than riding in a hearse.<br/><br/><div align="center">*************************</div><br/>Reine was surprised to find herself sitting in the Heirarchs office, a bag of tass in her lap and her Di Sarano on the rocks in another.  She swirled the glass, the ice clinking as it melted and settled.  Etched onto the glass were symbols. She had no idea what it was but it had enough letters to be her name.  She  brought the glass to her lips, inhaling the cherry almond scent.  There could be poison but then why so elaborate a set up to kill her.  She was before the Heirarch.  No, there had to be a reason for her to be here.  Important enough to warrant someone not of high standing.  She made no qualms.  Newly Awakened and not a year done with her training beneath a Mentor, she had a long way to go before she became somebody among the the Dragon's Talons.  She threw back the drink and let the liqueur burn its way down her throat.  So smooth.  She liked a smooth drink and smoother men.  Yeah, she was going to have to assuage a certain need sometime today but for now she needed to know why she was here.  Why she was suddenly above notice?<br/><br/>Why the hell did a Magister Mundi singled her out?  Fires of Stygia!  What the hell was an Arch Mage even doing in N'Awlins much less in this World.  She set her glass down, thankful she was sitting.  If she was standing, someone might have noticed the tremor in her legs.  She pursed her lips in concern.  Magister Mundi!  Something must be terribly wrong to dislodge one from his sanctum.  And her...well not just her.  Her eyes peripheral vision took in the others, a few who were seeming not as shocked as she was.  Perhaps it hadn't sunk in yet.  Oh, but it would.<br/><br/>“I don't think you will find driving necessary.  Jackson Square is only a stones throw from here,” she said in her smooth even tone.  She crossed her legs and sighed.  She had to thank Nick, who had somehow managed to show up in the right place but could possibly be the wrong time.  Though they did not exchange too much in the way of conversation, he had passed her a glass of water and a cloth.  Not one to turn away small favors, she was able to clean the splatters of blood.  It wouldn't do to show up a mess.  Having buttoned the silk coat over her throat and breasts to appear more presentable, she still wished she had been able to take a shower.  With her coat's swirling brocade, she at least looked halfway decent.  She studied the Heirarch.  Such an emotional woman but not without good reason.<br/><br/>She would not throw caution to the wind.  The woman had essentially told them nothing and given them a small clue as to what they needed to do.  She wondered if she should just do as she was told or at least ask one question.  Was she not an Arrow?  She was a Warrior and not afraid of Death.  Such a combination.  Finally, bravery won out.  She would sit and observe as the others arrived as well but she would have more than a not hint.<br/><br/>“Madame?  Now why would a Magister Mundi use someone like you as a Messenger service and keep you out of the loop, if you will excuse my rudeness,” she asked.  Sometimes, you just had to take a risk.  It's not like she was scared of dying.  She'd already been there and done that.  Would have bought the T-shirt but they gave her powers instead.  She smiled sweetly.  Yes, she did like to dance with the Devil.<br/>