<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><em>Jacqueline Meredith Blakesley</em></span> <br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em>Homicide Inspector at Crime Scene</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>'Decisions to be made - witch or demon?'</em></span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(http://tinyurl.com/867s24h)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It was a pain that the homeless man had died, and she had several thoughts as to why. Unfortunately it had nothing to do with a mortal issue - which was especially her poor luck.  Things had been going relatively well, having been somewhat quiet concerning the denizens of the Underworld.  In fact, she had not seen her errant father in years - and she knew from the perspective of a witch that she shouldn't deal with him at all.  He always wanted something - a price of sorts - and it was seldom a simple one.<br/><br/>The last time she had seen the old half-demon that had tricked her mother into wedding him had been three years previous when he'd required her assistance to rid him of a dark priestess - which were tricky, irritating creatures at the best of times.  A shiver curled down her spine as she looked toward the small, milling crowd of spectators - and saw a familiar visage - old Vincent Blakesley himself - or as he was called by other demons - simply Joscelin.  Her face went white as she watched him lift a single hand, and beckon her in his direction.  Her fingers traced over the gun holstered upon her left hip.<br/><br/>It wouldn't help her, sadly.  Luckily, it had been her uncle that had woven a protection spell around her mother before her marriage - countering the negative energy of the dark ceremony she'd been manipulated into with good old Chinese magic.  It was moments like this that she thanked her lucky stars for being what she was.  With a last murmured few words to the medical examiner and a quick murmuring of thanks, Jack moved through the technicians and the crowd toward the man waiting for her on the edge of the interesting bits still being stared at.</span><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;"><em>Vincent Joscelin Blakesley</em></span> <br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em>Half-Demon posing as a Lawyer and Businessman</em></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;"><em>'Greetings done and deals made'</em></span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://tinyurl.com/7fda9hy)</div><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">As soon as she crossed the yellow line of tape, his hand shot out with the speed of a viper and the grip of a vise.  The smile Vincent gave was a calm, and pleasant one.  He'd sensed that his child had thought of him more than once, and being what he was, and whom he was - ignoring that she had a need simply was not something he could ever do.  It mattered not that she detested him ... kin was kin, after all.  He could smell her fear of him and that alone brought a further smile to his lips as he led his wayward child away.  He could have killed Sam Huang for protecting Emma from the plans he had for her, but no matter.<br/><br/>Having a child that was both a witch and a firestarter could prove to be quite useful to his ultimate designs.  His thumb and index finger tugged her face up toward his in a demanding fashion while his brows lifted.  <strong>"You might want to school your thoughts a little better.  Did I not tell you that I would come the moment your thoughts rested upon me?  Silly child ... that is the trouble with you good witches - you must always have what it is you wish with out a price."</strong><br/><br/>Jacqueline snarled at her father in reply.  "Just because you were a devious jackass of a sperm donor does not make you my father.  I thought I made that clear the last time you came this way.  You cannot just ... walk up to a crime scene and command me over as if I were only five.  I would kill you if I could--"<br/><br/>Vincent wagged a finger side to side, slowly as a quiet, tenor laugh curled from his chest.  <strong>"Ahhh, I have to have done something for you to even attempt to vanquish me, child, and you haven't the power.  So save your adorable little speeches for someone that is concerned."</strong><br/><br/>Jacqueline's lips dropped open.  "Cursing does not suit you.  It sounds so ..."<br/><br/>He smiled almost cruelly as he tightened the grip on her arm, forcing her to walk back toward her car, and away from further help.  The last thing he needed was one of those fool humans getting in the way.  <strong>"Evil?  Well yes, as you should be, but for all those protective measures weaved 'round your elegant mother before your birth."  </strong><br/><br/>His soft fingers stroked over her left cheek, causing the Inspector to freeze in place.  He terrified her, and there was no point pretending otherwise.  <strong>"Without them, I would surely have a rather blessed child of my own, and pure evil to boot.  But no ... instead you catch them - the scum, the bottom feeders."</strong><br/><br/>Vincent's laughter made Jack's head hurt.  He was bizarre.  That was about it.  "No, I was going to say it sounds human.  Did you come to torment me for a reason, father?"<br/><br/>He tipped his head to the left, releasing her arm.  <strong>"I did.  I thought I would tell you that eventually the children of those foul Charmed ones will - by my assumptions - end up involved in your little 'case'.  I'd tell you what caused that mess ... if I knew, and if you were working for me."</strong><br/><br/>Jacqueline eyed her father coolly.  It was his fault that her mother died.  "I would die a thousand deaths before I would ever work for you - in any capacity.  Be gone," she muttered.<br/><br/><strong>"So be it.  I am a patient man."</strong> He shimmered away.<br/><br/>"Fuck him ..."  For a minute or two she needed to calm down and breathe - as he was unfortunately correct.  "Under what pretext do I trouble them without being obvious?"  Jack leaned her dark head against her car, and sighed.  Gingerly, she rubbed her arm.  It would surely end up bruised; he never considered her physically weaker status.</span>