RP logs: AU!, Warden!Thomas
After this.
Justine's life was filled with cycles.
The cycle of her medication, because Bianca was adamant. Even if it was making her sick for periods of time, they couldn't have her flipping out on a customer. Or on another vampire, when she was providing services of sorts for them.
At least that protected her somewhat. It wouldn't, if her mistress or a guest became really thirsty, but they didn't like the taste of her blood with that in it for casual draughts. (And often enough, those 'little' drinks turned into something more... staffing was expendable, after all.)
The cycle of the vampire touch. The one that made her mind swim in happiness, her eyes glaze, and her body relax and melt into whatever anyone wanted of her.
The cycle of customers to the Mistress's home. Though less strong than Mistress's kiss, it was still an influence, the lust that could be meek or overpowering in its own way. And the downs of its absence.
She was on the upswing for the first. The medication had kicked in, but it would be a while, maybe an hour or two at most until the queasiness really started. And she knew she'd not be flipping out for hours yet.
She was going down on the second one - not enough to crave it, and hours, maybe a day away from the time when she would be begging for it more. Maybe more, depending. Not much more.
And she was... somewhere, on the second.
She'd been pulled of regular 'duties' and assigned to Sorcerer Dresden for the duration of his stay with Bianca. If it could really be called a stay - he came and went. But he did call for her, so her Mistress wasn't displeased.
She appeared more than moments after Sorcerer Dresden's exit, but not too long. Her eyes were a trifle less glassy and she had been allowed a short, thin shift-like dress - not that it covered all that much, translucent as it was. She was carrying the key for the chain's lock and stepped quickly in the narrow space, eyes sliding up the stretched body, past the troubled-looking face, and up the tense arms to the wrists...
"I think I can reach that without stepping on anything." Yes, because that would be harder, getting something here and... everything. After a brief pause, she added, "you didn't let me get hurt when he pushed me." It was a thank-you. Of sorts. Of course, it had also meant he had done himself a disservice.
--
Thomas looked at her with a sort of rueful gaze in his tired, grey eyes, "it's in the job description." No matter what Dresden said with his little have-to-get-the-last-word-in comment. But he knew he'd do it again, even knowing what sort of trouble it would get him into.
Considering his height compared to hers, he wasn't completely convinced she could reach without something to stand on, but he didn't particularly care to argue. "It might help," he added, "if you turn the water off, first," and he nodded in the direction of the faucet. At least then, maybe, he wouldn't feel quite so weak. Though at this point, he wasn't laying any bets on his ability to use his magic to get out of the shackles even with the water off.
At least he wasn't terribly modest. Considering his lack of clothing.
--
"Oh. It must be a long one, that job description... and, of course, how silly of me." Many people called her silly. She didn't really object. Reaching around him, she shuddered. "This is cold!" On top of all the things running through her veins, the cold had a... very odd effect. In particular considering how thin the dress was.
She did turn off the water rather quickly. Then, stepping on her tip-toes, she held against his arm with one hand to reach at the lock. While she wasn't consciously pressing against him, well. She couldn't afford to be too far away either, or she wouldn't be tall enough.
She did reach, or rather, the key did, barely. There was a quiet snap as she turned it, and then the chain started slipping through the loosened lock.
--
It was probably just as well he'd been under what amounted to a cold shower for the last God-only-knew-how-long or her pressing against him like that would have had elicited a rather visible reaction from him. As it was, he couldn't precisely stop himself from momentarily wondering if she'd been sent in to warm him up again.
As soon as the chain started slipping through, his arm started falling, numb. He hissed as the rest of his weight jerked down on the remainining chained wrist. "Tell Dresden to use the fuzzy handcuffs next time," he managed to grate out.
--
"I am sorry." She was. Even though her head wasn't too clear, she could have thought of that. Should have. She hoped the chain hadn't bitten in to make him bleed, not here, while she reached up again. As she was turning the key for the second time, she braced herself to step back with one foot and try to take his weight.
See, she could think ahead. A little. A very little...
Snap.
--
The lock snapped open and even though Thomas tried to brace himself for it, he still wobbled and then dropped onto the girl.
How embarassing.
At least he didn't completely flatten her.
--
No, he didn't, not completely. She still stumbled back against the nearest vertical surface behind her, her arms going around him instinctively.
"You're trembling." How observant. "Did you... are your wrists hurt?" Even she had the vague suspicion that if somebody found him and drank his blood, after all the trouble the Sorcerer had gone to in order to secure him, that wouldn't be good.
--
"Probably, can't really feel them," but once his circulation kicked back in, they'd probably hurt like hell. "Don't suppose there's somewhere more comfortable we could have this conversation?" They were in what amounted to a brothel, after all. There had to be a bed somewhere. And right now, the idea of a bed, even one of Bianca's -- maybe especially one of hers, said the memory of the vampire venom in his veins -- sounded downright heavenly. Or something.
Dry clothes would be good too. But he wasn't going to be picky.
--
"Of course. I just wasn't sure walking around this residence while you're bleeding was the safest course of action." Oh wait. Was that some spark still left in her? One could wonder how.
"You can lean on me," not that he seemed to have much choice just yet, "it's not that far." Not that terribly close either, though, come to think about it. At least they didn't have to up stairs?
"Let me see your wrists first though." She reached her own hand and lightly pulled one of his arms up to where she could see it. Where they both, probably, could.
--
His wrists were bruised and rough-looking, but he wasn't actively bleeding at the moment. He hadn't actually done much in the way of struggling in the shackles so there hadn't been quite enough opportunity for his skin to break. "Don't worry," he said with a grin, "anybody tries to bite me, I'll just blast 'em into oblivion."
Of course, without his wand, any blasting he tried would likely send everybody in his proximity into oblivion. But he doubted she knew that.
--
"Oh yes? You may want to reconsider your chance of survival if you try that, too." She wasn't considering her own, of course. After all, her life here was not ever safe. But they were still a couple of levels under the ground. No sunlight for you today, mister. "I'm glad that--" that he wasn't bleeding. Sure, she still could have some 'normal' reactions, rare as they were.
"Let's go. I think the hallway may seem longer to you right now than it usually would." She braced herself again and pushed away from the wall and in the direction of the door.
--
Thomas would have shrugged, but he was pretty sure his shoulders would have screamed at him for trying so instead he just stood as well as he was able, trying not to lean too heavily on her and trudged off in the direction of salvation. Or a bed. Whichever.
"I'll survive." The walk, anyway. No comment on any blasting-into-oblivion or getting bit. "Thanks for the help." It seemed the thing to say. It felt like she was going above and beyond the call of duty here, after all.
--
"You mean that." It wasn't a question, and she didn't stop on their way. She also could take as much as he would lean on her. After all, she was supposed to cover certain standards... well, her body was fit enough. "Not many people do, when they're talking to me." Meaning, some of the nicer customers did, and just about nobody else. It was just surprising, considering that she hadn't even performed what she usually got thanked for.
"I don't quite think 'anytime' would be an appropriate or welcome response right now though." She felt... out of balance, in this situation. It was different than what she was used to...
Justine concentrated on walking. Towards a room almost at the foot of the stairs. Small one, and the furniture wasn't all too new, but it was clean. And there was a bed. Rather soft one - even if the comforter was a little threadbare, it was still warm and big enough to wrap him into. He seemed to need something like that, by the touch. Though she thought, close as she was, that he was warming up a little. Maybe.
--
Thomas choked on a dry laugh, "no. I don't think it would." Maybe something else, some other time. She seemed like a nice girl. Too nice for a place like this.
He was just thankful when they reached the room and didn't particularly care how it was furnished so long as it was soft and warm. Which. It was. So he was happy. Or as happy as he could be in the situation he found himself in. He was still resolutely not analyzing everything Dresden had told him, though he figured that he wouldn't be able to get away from that for long. He might have been wondering just what was keeping him from simply walking out of here, especially now that Dresden had gone off to...wherever. Of course, the lack of clothing was something of a hindrance, and he wouldn't be getting anywhere quickly. And it was pretty likely the old car he'd driven out here was no longer around. But still, there were ways around most of that.
And a large part of him didn't want to fall asleep. He might wake up under the water again. Or worse. But rest. Resting was good. So he took himself to the bed and settled down on it, not particularly caring right at the moment about getting under covers, just wanting to not be standing anymore.
--
She reached across him, leaning close, to pull the covers over him. "You need the heat." It wasn't quite an apology, but...
Her face hovering close over his, she added, "I'll bring down some clothes. Not that anyone would be really surprised at somebody wandering naked up there--" not with a body like that, in particular, "-- but I think you might be feeling more comfortable with them than without. Should I bring anything to eat? To drink?" He didn't exactly look like he could stomach a lot. She'd been through enough of trance-doze-offs to know the feeling. Stiil...
On the other hand, there was that small chance that any food she might procure for him could be laced with some quantities of the narcotic. Not by Justine, of course. But Bianca might have her own plans for her guest. Possibly.
--
It felt far too nice to have her tucking him in like this. "Don't suppose you know what happened to my stuff." His clothes. Sword. Pentacle. Things like that.
He waved off the offers off food and drink. He'd likely be starving later, but for now he'd prefer not to be further indebted to Bianca's dubious hospitality than he was already. "I think I'm okay on that front, for now."
He yawned, then scowled at himself for yawning. "Nobody else is going to come in here, are they?" It wouldn't surprise him if someone "forgot" to make the room off-limits for the duration of his stay.
--
She was, after all, good at taking care of and pleasing men. That's what she was kept around for. Her hands were careful and gentle, not fully consciously even.
Justine blinked, and blinked again. "I'll look for them, if you want me to." Obviously he did, but she was surprised enough that she'd not thought about that... well, she'd only been told to go take him down and all not THAT long ago, but she did know enough about wizards to know he might want HIS things back. "I'll try."
And then the other thing... "I hadn't thought about it." She gestured towards the door. "There's a key, but... on the one hand, that won't be that much of a stop, and on the other, either I'll have to lock you in," and she knew that he might not be overly enthusiastic about that, "or you'll have to get up to lock, and then again to unlock when I return. I don't think anybody would, there is a certain agreement about what the Sorcerer can do here." But, the unspoken thought went, nobody was guaranteed anything in this house.
--
He smiled, and even in his current state, the smile managed to light up the room, a little, "thanks again."
Looking over at the door, Thomas thought about it for a long moment. "I'll lock it." He was pretty sure he could manage enough of a ward to slow even a vampire down. Probably not something that would stand up to another wizard...but he was at Dresden's mercy for the moment anyway. But he'd feel better if no one could just waltz in.
Though considering he was here because she had drugged him when he'd stopped paying attention to her, Thomas wasn't entirely certain why he even trusted her. he had to trust somebody though. At least for the moment.
--
It did light up the room, that was... so very rare that Justine found herself smiling in return. Small and warm smile... without an ounce of artifice. Well, not that any of her smiles looked like they were artificial.
She nodded slowly. "Shall I leave you to rest a while, or would you rather I brought whatever I can find immediately?" She wasn't used to making choices, really. Never had much of an opportunity to develop a taste for it.
Then again, one didn't get to choose all that much when the narcotic was singing in their veins. She did what she was told. Hadn't been told too much about him, but enough to know that he was to be freed, rather than left hanging helpless till somebody else found him...
Of course, there was always the chance that she'd get her next dose of venom as soon as she showed up elsewhere. One couldn't predict those really - sometimes the staffing was drugged as soon as it started wearing off; other times, they had to beg for it, and suffer from its absence...
It didn't mean she wasn't speaking in good faith for now.
--
Thomas nodded, carefully sitting up in the bed so he could lock the door behind her. "You'd probably better go now." The sooner, the better.
And even those few moments of rest had helped. A bit. It also made it harder to sit up because it was just so much easier to lie down. He took a moment to close his eyes and reach for his magic and was immensely gratified to feel it flowing into him and staying put and not getting washed away. He imagined the sort of ward he wanted in his head, ready to slap it into place as he turned the key. It'd be a sloppy job, but it'd handle an unwelcome visitor or two.
--
She reached out a hand to touch his arm, almost to help him, when he sat up. He looked like his head was disagreeing with his will and all. "I'll return soon."
Then she turned to leave without another word.
It didn't take long to locate his clothes and other items. In fact, almost as soon as she showed up at the ground level, one of the other human girls pulled her aside and after a few quiet words pointed her in the direction of a haphazard pile, the unmistakable outline of a sword in scabbard showing under the wrapping of a gray cloak.
The Sorcerer wants us to return to him his sword. Oh...
She straightened up the pile a little, enough to make it easy to carry, then made her way back down and knocked. After a moment, she said, not too loud but clearly, "It's Justine."
--
Thomas had decided the best way not to let sleep take him was to sit on the bed instead of lying back down in it. So it doesn't take him quite as long to get over to the droo as it did before. She'll hear him mutter something under his breath before he turns the key and lets her in.
"That was fast." But his eyes are on the bundle of things in her arms.
--
"They were left for you. For me to bring to you, really." Justine walked to the bed and deposited the entire bulk gently at its foot. Her fingers smoothed the odd gray fabric of the cloak on the top, then she turned to face him, hand finding the hilt of the sword and resting on it.
"I was also told that you'd be let to walk out at any time you may wish. If you try to tlak with somebody, they'd send for me. I do not know why." A small pause, then she tapped the hard outline under her palm.
"And that my Mistress is not here. Nor is he who did the locking of you up. So, Warden. If you should wreak vengeance upon this house, it would be only pawns who'd reap it." Pawns who, she knew WELL enough, would give their lives to protect the house and all in it. And, by their numbers, could even overwhelm a full wizard. And possibly vampires too, of course, there were usually vampires in Bianca's suit. But not the head...
She straightened and moved to walk past him in the direction of the door. When she was beside him, she lifted her face and said clearly, and maybe a little sadly, "rest peacefully. If you need something - I am sure you'll be able to find me. Or it."
--
Thomas stared at her, mostly for her wreak vengeance comment, "I don't want to do any wreaking." Well. Maybe with Dresden. But he wouldn't go after the mortals who had the unfortunate luck of being stuck here. And he knew he couldn't separate them from this place anyway, they wouldn't go willingly with him, after all.
He pushed his sword and cloak aside so he could get to his other clothes. Even if he was going to still rest, he wanted to be ready to pick up and leave at a second's notice, if need be. "Do you have to go?"
He surprised himself with that. But he liked her company well enough and he knew he did not like being in this room alone.
--
He surprised her too. She stopped in her tracks, hand almost reaching for the door, and turned slowly back to him, eyes wide. Her voice, so - certain, a moment ago, now hesitated. "I don't... have to. I do not think I'll be very good company before long--" the medication's side effects kicking in were another reason for the slow turning back, "-- but I can stay." It might be a good idea that he did lay down, if she recalled well how one felt about then, after passing out--
She stepped back to him, eyes still lifted up to his face, and pressed her palms against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, her voice warm, gentle. "You're pushing yourself hard. You need to rest." Surprisingly, much as she was used to intimacies following being - well, this close to a man, she trully did mean rest. Not that she was above ... no, that didn't seem right. Somehow. Not right now, not beyond ...
Smiles and touches and words that surprise and move and...
"I can remain here with you while you do," she managed to get out.
--
He smiled again. "I'm going to rest." That was the idea. And her hands were so warm on his chest and he really, uhm. Should get dressed. First. Soon. Now. Gently, he pushed her back a little so he could finish getting his clothes on, "after I dress."
That and he didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. Not that she wasn't attractive -- because she really, really was -- but he just... it would be wrong, somehow.
And to steer the conversation slightly elsewhere, he asked as he pulled his pants on, "how'd you end up here? Uh, if you don't mind my asking." It could likely be a touchy subject.
--
Justine didn't object to being pressed back - she, ah. Well, no, she wasn't unaware of her effect on men. And she knew he needed the rest, and it was a smile that answered his addition to the resting part.
Then the smile melted into a small frown. "I was at a hospital." She managed to resist shaking her head, which would be a bad idea right then, and lightly tapped her temple instead. "A mental one. I need... medication to keep my emotions under control." Technically, it wasn't under her control. The drug's control. "I don't tollerate it fully well, but it works better than me going kind of feral." She swallowed. "No danger of that, at least. But - Bianca saw me there, I do not know what she was doing--" No, Justine realized. She actually knew exactly what Bianca had been doing. Preying on the weakest... like any self-respecting predator.
She couldn't suppress a shudder. But she forced herself to go on. "Not much to it. She saw me, and liked me." The sweet, almost-innocent-yet-sensual looking little Justine. "And arranged the papers to technically adopt me." Justine rubbed her palms against her thighs, they were suddenly sweating for some reason. "And then she brought me here and gave me that first kiss." There was some longing in her voice.
She wasn't pure, by any interpretation of the word, at all. But in a way, in the way she accepted what had happened to her, and where she was, and what she was? There was probably a bit of innocence. Could she have fought somebody as beautiful as Bianca, as she had seen her then? Could she have fought the power of the narcotic - could anyone truly fight it?
--
Somewhere in the middle of his getting-dressed routine, Thomas paused and his eyes grew distant. Whether he was thinking about kissing Bianca or kissing Justine is anybody's guess but it did take him a moment to gather himself again and continue. "Oh." Something about Justine's story just hardened Thomas' resolve that something had to be done about Bianca.
When did he start taking an interest in Chicago again?
He really hated Dresden now. Why couldn't they be in Miami or something?
"I'm sorry she found you like that. You don't deserve this." Then again, most people didn't. Though some people? Some people Thomas would be hard pressed to keep from going to a fate like this one. Some people deserved to be ruined.
--
"Deserve?" Justine looked down. Partly because the hardening of the gray eyes was... strange, difficult to bear for too long, and partly because -
"I am no angel." Appearances notwithstanding, as far as she'd been told. "Perhaps it is what I do deserve." Half-conscously, she reached to help him with the getting dressed, fingers working swiftly and skillfully, pulling, pressing, smoothing and straightening and fastening...
Then she swallowed and looked up again. "But thank you. Maybe something else could have been possible. I do not know what."
Looking down again, she moved to turn the cover of the bed.
She honestly did not know what else there could be. And the queasiness wasn't helping either. More than reminding her what would always be there, hers.
--
"In another life?" he asked with a wry, rueful smile. "Who knows?"
Obediently enough, he settled back onto the bed. "I've never met any angels, Justine, but you've been far more kind to me than you had to be. I think that, in itself, says you don't deserve to be here."
He went digging through the folds of his cloak until he uncovered his pentacle and returned it to its place around his neck. "But it's probably selfish of me to say I'm glad you are." Drugging him notwithstanding. He held no ill will toward her for that. It's not like she would have had a choice, anyway.
Only then did he finally lay back into the bed. He was yawning again.
--
She smiled at his words. Maybe she blushed a trifle. Her eyes followed him as he took out the pendant and placed it around his neck and raised her eyebrow, but she hadn't seen more than the silvery glitter, not the shape (unless he left it over his shirt, of course).
After he settled down, she moved the cloak and sword to the nightstand - it made sense to her that he'd want it within an arm's reach - and sat on the edge of the bed, closing her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. Reaching for his hand, she looked at the bruised wrist and remarked absent-mindedly to herself, "I should have gotten something for these. I'm sorry." At least he could use his hands...
Her eyes rose up to his face again. He looked... tired. "Do you think others would have done differently if they were left there with you as helpless as..." And then she answered her own question, "oh. I guess they would, for some advantage to themselves." A small shrug. "I have no goals of power or gain. It would make no difference." Maybe she was just talking him to sleep, now. It wasn't always in her habit to think aloud. Then again, some would claim it wasn't in her habit - or capacity - to think all that much, at all...
--
Thomas did indeed, tuck the pentacle beneath his shirt.
When she moved his cloak and sword next to him, he murmured something that sounded like a half-asleep thank you. The toll of the last however long it had been had finally fully caught up with him and he was fading into unconsciousness quickly. He didn't even quite register her comment on his wrists or her musings after.
No, he slept deeply, feeling almost safe with her there. Almost.
--
Justine realized he was asleep soon enough. She held his hand a little longer, watching his face relax slowly, his breathing even out. He was... nice people, and she didn't meet too many of those. Even less so after she'd done something against them. Her thoughts went to the tiny syringe laying somewhere outside, where it had been discarded, and she had to swallow hard at the... memory, fuzzy and pleasurable as it had been.
Gingerly and slowly, she rose from the bed, then walked to an old armchair across from the bed, sitting into it as quietly as she could. She knew that right now lying down would just make the vertigo stronger and really feel like throwing up; still, leaning against its back was welcome. She did just that, and tucked her bare feet under her.
These two... The Sorcerer frightened her; and his bidding that she had been told to do was like nobody else's that she knew.
And the Warden... just made her feel out of balance and confused. She couldn't say exactly why - beyond his simply being nice, and also in need... few people around here were in need of her that went other than a certain direction, and while some of those were nice, they always had a certain reward for it in view. He'd just caught her instead of letting her fall (and how had she repaid that? a tiny voice, usually drowned by other things, asked), he'd thanked her, and he'd...
Trusted me.
Now that was something exceedingly rare.
Perhaps he was right to - until her Mistress or her ally wanted her to do something again.
That thought made her feel even queasier. She closed her eyes and relaxed back against the chair's back, breathing deeply. Her thought flicked briefly back, trying to think if he'd locked the door after letting her in. She wasn't sure, nor did she quite dare go and touch it on her own.
But she opened her eyes, quietly sitting and watching over his exhausted, though maybe still rather uneasy, sleep.
Justine's life was filled with cycles.
The cycle of her medication, because Bianca was adamant. Even if it was making her sick for periods of time, they couldn't have her flipping out on a customer. Or on another vampire, when she was providing services of sorts for them.
At least that protected her somewhat. It wouldn't, if her mistress or a guest became really thirsty, but they didn't like the taste of her blood with that in it for casual draughts. (And often enough, those 'little' drinks turned into something more... staffing was expendable, after all.)
The cycle of the vampire touch. The one that made her mind swim in happiness, her eyes glaze, and her body relax and melt into whatever anyone wanted of her.
The cycle of customers to the Mistress's home. Though less strong than Mistress's kiss, it was still an influence, the lust that could be meek or overpowering in its own way. And the downs of its absence.
She was on the upswing for the first. The medication had kicked in, but it would be a while, maybe an hour or two at most until the queasiness really started. And she knew she'd not be flipping out for hours yet.
She was going down on the second one - not enough to crave it, and hours, maybe a day away from the time when she would be begging for it more. Maybe more, depending. Not much more.
And she was... somewhere, on the second.
She'd been pulled of regular 'duties' and assigned to Sorcerer Dresden for the duration of his stay with Bianca. If it could really be called a stay - he came and went. But he did call for her, so her Mistress wasn't displeased.
She appeared more than moments after Sorcerer Dresden's exit, but not too long. Her eyes were a trifle less glassy and she had been allowed a short, thin shift-like dress - not that it covered all that much, translucent as it was. She was carrying the key for the chain's lock and stepped quickly in the narrow space, eyes sliding up the stretched body, past the troubled-looking face, and up the tense arms to the wrists...
"I think I can reach that without stepping on anything." Yes, because that would be harder, getting something here and... everything. After a brief pause, she added, "you didn't let me get hurt when he pushed me." It was a thank-you. Of sorts. Of course, it had also meant he had done himself a disservice.
--
Thomas looked at her with a sort of rueful gaze in his tired, grey eyes, "it's in the job description." No matter what Dresden said with his little have-to-get-the-last-word-in comment. But he knew he'd do it again, even knowing what sort of trouble it would get him into.
Considering his height compared to hers, he wasn't completely convinced she could reach without something to stand on, but he didn't particularly care to argue. "It might help," he added, "if you turn the water off, first," and he nodded in the direction of the faucet. At least then, maybe, he wouldn't feel quite so weak. Though at this point, he wasn't laying any bets on his ability to use his magic to get out of the shackles even with the water off.
At least he wasn't terribly modest. Considering his lack of clothing.
--
"Oh. It must be a long one, that job description... and, of course, how silly of me." Many people called her silly. She didn't really object. Reaching around him, she shuddered. "This is cold!" On top of all the things running through her veins, the cold had a... very odd effect. In particular considering how thin the dress was.
She did turn off the water rather quickly. Then, stepping on her tip-toes, she held against his arm with one hand to reach at the lock. While she wasn't consciously pressing against him, well. She couldn't afford to be too far away either, or she wouldn't be tall enough.
She did reach, or rather, the key did, barely. There was a quiet snap as she turned it, and then the chain started slipping through the loosened lock.
--
It was probably just as well he'd been under what amounted to a cold shower for the last God-only-knew-how-long or her pressing against him like that would have had elicited a rather visible reaction from him. As it was, he couldn't precisely stop himself from momentarily wondering if she'd been sent in to warm him up again.
As soon as the chain started slipping through, his arm started falling, numb. He hissed as the rest of his weight jerked down on the remainining chained wrist. "Tell Dresden to use the fuzzy handcuffs next time," he managed to grate out.
--
"I am sorry." She was. Even though her head wasn't too clear, she could have thought of that. Should have. She hoped the chain hadn't bitten in to make him bleed, not here, while she reached up again. As she was turning the key for the second time, she braced herself to step back with one foot and try to take his weight.
See, she could think ahead. A little. A very little...
Snap.
--
The lock snapped open and even though Thomas tried to brace himself for it, he still wobbled and then dropped onto the girl.
How embarassing.
At least he didn't completely flatten her.
--
No, he didn't, not completely. She still stumbled back against the nearest vertical surface behind her, her arms going around him instinctively.
"You're trembling." How observant. "Did you... are your wrists hurt?" Even she had the vague suspicion that if somebody found him and drank his blood, after all the trouble the Sorcerer had gone to in order to secure him, that wouldn't be good.
--
"Probably, can't really feel them," but once his circulation kicked back in, they'd probably hurt like hell. "Don't suppose there's somewhere more comfortable we could have this conversation?" They were in what amounted to a brothel, after all. There had to be a bed somewhere. And right now, the idea of a bed, even one of Bianca's -- maybe especially one of hers, said the memory of the vampire venom in his veins -- sounded downright heavenly. Or something.
Dry clothes would be good too. But he wasn't going to be picky.
--
"Of course. I just wasn't sure walking around this residence while you're bleeding was the safest course of action." Oh wait. Was that some spark still left in her? One could wonder how.
"You can lean on me," not that he seemed to have much choice just yet, "it's not that far." Not that terribly close either, though, come to think about it. At least they didn't have to up stairs?
"Let me see your wrists first though." She reached her own hand and lightly pulled one of his arms up to where she could see it. Where they both, probably, could.
--
His wrists were bruised and rough-looking, but he wasn't actively bleeding at the moment. He hadn't actually done much in the way of struggling in the shackles so there hadn't been quite enough opportunity for his skin to break. "Don't worry," he said with a grin, "anybody tries to bite me, I'll just blast 'em into oblivion."
Of course, without his wand, any blasting he tried would likely send everybody in his proximity into oblivion. But he doubted she knew that.
--
"Oh yes? You may want to reconsider your chance of survival if you try that, too." She wasn't considering her own, of course. After all, her life here was not ever safe. But they were still a couple of levels under the ground. No sunlight for you today, mister. "I'm glad that--" that he wasn't bleeding. Sure, she still could have some 'normal' reactions, rare as they were.
"Let's go. I think the hallway may seem longer to you right now than it usually would." She braced herself again and pushed away from the wall and in the direction of the door.
--
Thomas would have shrugged, but he was pretty sure his shoulders would have screamed at him for trying so instead he just stood as well as he was able, trying not to lean too heavily on her and trudged off in the direction of salvation. Or a bed. Whichever.
"I'll survive." The walk, anyway. No comment on any blasting-into-oblivion or getting bit. "Thanks for the help." It seemed the thing to say. It felt like she was going above and beyond the call of duty here, after all.
--
"You mean that." It wasn't a question, and she didn't stop on their way. She also could take as much as he would lean on her. After all, she was supposed to cover certain standards... well, her body was fit enough. "Not many people do, when they're talking to me." Meaning, some of the nicer customers did, and just about nobody else. It was just surprising, considering that she hadn't even performed what she usually got thanked for.
"I don't quite think 'anytime' would be an appropriate or welcome response right now though." She felt... out of balance, in this situation. It was different than what she was used to...
Justine concentrated on walking. Towards a room almost at the foot of the stairs. Small one, and the furniture wasn't all too new, but it was clean. And there was a bed. Rather soft one - even if the comforter was a little threadbare, it was still warm and big enough to wrap him into. He seemed to need something like that, by the touch. Though she thought, close as she was, that he was warming up a little. Maybe.
--
Thomas choked on a dry laugh, "no. I don't think it would." Maybe something else, some other time. She seemed like a nice girl. Too nice for a place like this.
He was just thankful when they reached the room and didn't particularly care how it was furnished so long as it was soft and warm. Which. It was. So he was happy. Or as happy as he could be in the situation he found himself in. He was still resolutely not analyzing everything Dresden had told him, though he figured that he wouldn't be able to get away from that for long. He might have been wondering just what was keeping him from simply walking out of here, especially now that Dresden had gone off to...wherever. Of course, the lack of clothing was something of a hindrance, and he wouldn't be getting anywhere quickly. And it was pretty likely the old car he'd driven out here was no longer around. But still, there were ways around most of that.
And a large part of him didn't want to fall asleep. He might wake up under the water again. Or worse. But rest. Resting was good. So he took himself to the bed and settled down on it, not particularly caring right at the moment about getting under covers, just wanting to not be standing anymore.
--
She reached across him, leaning close, to pull the covers over him. "You need the heat." It wasn't quite an apology, but...
Her face hovering close over his, she added, "I'll bring down some clothes. Not that anyone would be really surprised at somebody wandering naked up there--" not with a body like that, in particular, "-- but I think you might be feeling more comfortable with them than without. Should I bring anything to eat? To drink?" He didn't exactly look like he could stomach a lot. She'd been through enough of trance-doze-offs to know the feeling. Stiil...
On the other hand, there was that small chance that any food she might procure for him could be laced with some quantities of the narcotic. Not by Justine, of course. But Bianca might have her own plans for her guest. Possibly.
--
It felt far too nice to have her tucking him in like this. "Don't suppose you know what happened to my stuff." His clothes. Sword. Pentacle. Things like that.
He waved off the offers off food and drink. He'd likely be starving later, but for now he'd prefer not to be further indebted to Bianca's dubious hospitality than he was already. "I think I'm okay on that front, for now."
He yawned, then scowled at himself for yawning. "Nobody else is going to come in here, are they?" It wouldn't surprise him if someone "forgot" to make the room off-limits for the duration of his stay.
--
She was, after all, good at taking care of and pleasing men. That's what she was kept around for. Her hands were careful and gentle, not fully consciously even.
Justine blinked, and blinked again. "I'll look for them, if you want me to." Obviously he did, but she was surprised enough that she'd not thought about that... well, she'd only been told to go take him down and all not THAT long ago, but she did know enough about wizards to know he might want HIS things back. "I'll try."
And then the other thing... "I hadn't thought about it." She gestured towards the door. "There's a key, but... on the one hand, that won't be that much of a stop, and on the other, either I'll have to lock you in," and she knew that he might not be overly enthusiastic about that, "or you'll have to get up to lock, and then again to unlock when I return. I don't think anybody would, there is a certain agreement about what the Sorcerer can do here." But, the unspoken thought went, nobody was guaranteed anything in this house.
--
He smiled, and even in his current state, the smile managed to light up the room, a little, "thanks again."
Looking over at the door, Thomas thought about it for a long moment. "I'll lock it." He was pretty sure he could manage enough of a ward to slow even a vampire down. Probably not something that would stand up to another wizard...but he was at Dresden's mercy for the moment anyway. But he'd feel better if no one could just waltz in.
Though considering he was here because she had drugged him when he'd stopped paying attention to her, Thomas wasn't entirely certain why he even trusted her. he had to trust somebody though. At least for the moment.
--
It did light up the room, that was... so very rare that Justine found herself smiling in return. Small and warm smile... without an ounce of artifice. Well, not that any of her smiles looked like they were artificial.
She nodded slowly. "Shall I leave you to rest a while, or would you rather I brought whatever I can find immediately?" She wasn't used to making choices, really. Never had much of an opportunity to develop a taste for it.
Then again, one didn't get to choose all that much when the narcotic was singing in their veins. She did what she was told. Hadn't been told too much about him, but enough to know that he was to be freed, rather than left hanging helpless till somebody else found him...
Of course, there was always the chance that she'd get her next dose of venom as soon as she showed up elsewhere. One couldn't predict those really - sometimes the staffing was drugged as soon as it started wearing off; other times, they had to beg for it, and suffer from its absence...
It didn't mean she wasn't speaking in good faith for now.
--
Thomas nodded, carefully sitting up in the bed so he could lock the door behind her. "You'd probably better go now." The sooner, the better.
And even those few moments of rest had helped. A bit. It also made it harder to sit up because it was just so much easier to lie down. He took a moment to close his eyes and reach for his magic and was immensely gratified to feel it flowing into him and staying put and not getting washed away. He imagined the sort of ward he wanted in his head, ready to slap it into place as he turned the key. It'd be a sloppy job, but it'd handle an unwelcome visitor or two.
--
She reached out a hand to touch his arm, almost to help him, when he sat up. He looked like his head was disagreeing with his will and all. "I'll return soon."
Then she turned to leave without another word.
It didn't take long to locate his clothes and other items. In fact, almost as soon as she showed up at the ground level, one of the other human girls pulled her aside and after a few quiet words pointed her in the direction of a haphazard pile, the unmistakable outline of a sword in scabbard showing under the wrapping of a gray cloak.
The Sorcerer wants us to return to him his sword. Oh...
She straightened up the pile a little, enough to make it easy to carry, then made her way back down and knocked. After a moment, she said, not too loud but clearly, "It's Justine."
--
Thomas had decided the best way not to let sleep take him was to sit on the bed instead of lying back down in it. So it doesn't take him quite as long to get over to the droo as it did before. She'll hear him mutter something under his breath before he turns the key and lets her in.
"That was fast." But his eyes are on the bundle of things in her arms.
--
"They were left for you. For me to bring to you, really." Justine walked to the bed and deposited the entire bulk gently at its foot. Her fingers smoothed the odd gray fabric of the cloak on the top, then she turned to face him, hand finding the hilt of the sword and resting on it.
"I was also told that you'd be let to walk out at any time you may wish. If you try to tlak with somebody, they'd send for me. I do not know why." A small pause, then she tapped the hard outline under her palm.
"And that my Mistress is not here. Nor is he who did the locking of you up. So, Warden. If you should wreak vengeance upon this house, it would be only pawns who'd reap it." Pawns who, she knew WELL enough, would give their lives to protect the house and all in it. And, by their numbers, could even overwhelm a full wizard. And possibly vampires too, of course, there were usually vampires in Bianca's suit. But not the head...
She straightened and moved to walk past him in the direction of the door. When she was beside him, she lifted her face and said clearly, and maybe a little sadly, "rest peacefully. If you need something - I am sure you'll be able to find me. Or it."
--
Thomas stared at her, mostly for her wreak vengeance comment, "I don't want to do any wreaking." Well. Maybe with Dresden. But he wouldn't go after the mortals who had the unfortunate luck of being stuck here. And he knew he couldn't separate them from this place anyway, they wouldn't go willingly with him, after all.
He pushed his sword and cloak aside so he could get to his other clothes. Even if he was going to still rest, he wanted to be ready to pick up and leave at a second's notice, if need be. "Do you have to go?"
He surprised himself with that. But he liked her company well enough and he knew he did not like being in this room alone.
--
He surprised her too. She stopped in her tracks, hand almost reaching for the door, and turned slowly back to him, eyes wide. Her voice, so - certain, a moment ago, now hesitated. "I don't... have to. I do not think I'll be very good company before long--" the medication's side effects kicking in were another reason for the slow turning back, "-- but I can stay." It might be a good idea that he did lay down, if she recalled well how one felt about then, after passing out--
She stepped back to him, eyes still lifted up to his face, and pressed her palms against his chest, feeling his heartbeat, her voice warm, gentle. "You're pushing yourself hard. You need to rest." Surprisingly, much as she was used to intimacies following being - well, this close to a man, she trully did mean rest. Not that she was above ... no, that didn't seem right. Somehow. Not right now, not beyond ...
Smiles and touches and words that surprise and move and...
"I can remain here with you while you do," she managed to get out.
--
He smiled again. "I'm going to rest." That was the idea. And her hands were so warm on his chest and he really, uhm. Should get dressed. First. Soon. Now. Gently, he pushed her back a little so he could finish getting his clothes on, "after I dress."
That and he didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. Not that she wasn't attractive -- because she really, really was -- but he just... it would be wrong, somehow.
And to steer the conversation slightly elsewhere, he asked as he pulled his pants on, "how'd you end up here? Uh, if you don't mind my asking." It could likely be a touchy subject.
--
Justine didn't object to being pressed back - she, ah. Well, no, she wasn't unaware of her effect on men. And she knew he needed the rest, and it was a smile that answered his addition to the resting part.
Then the smile melted into a small frown. "I was at a hospital." She managed to resist shaking her head, which would be a bad idea right then, and lightly tapped her temple instead. "A mental one. I need... medication to keep my emotions under control." Technically, it wasn't under her control. The drug's control. "I don't tollerate it fully well, but it works better than me going kind of feral." She swallowed. "No danger of that, at least. But - Bianca saw me there, I do not know what she was doing--" No, Justine realized. She actually knew exactly what Bianca had been doing. Preying on the weakest... like any self-respecting predator.
She couldn't suppress a shudder. But she forced herself to go on. "Not much to it. She saw me, and liked me." The sweet, almost-innocent-yet-sensual looking little Justine. "And arranged the papers to technically adopt me." Justine rubbed her palms against her thighs, they were suddenly sweating for some reason. "And then she brought me here and gave me that first kiss." There was some longing in her voice.
She wasn't pure, by any interpretation of the word, at all. But in a way, in the way she accepted what had happened to her, and where she was, and what she was? There was probably a bit of innocence. Could she have fought somebody as beautiful as Bianca, as she had seen her then? Could she have fought the power of the narcotic - could anyone truly fight it?
--
Somewhere in the middle of his getting-dressed routine, Thomas paused and his eyes grew distant. Whether he was thinking about kissing Bianca or kissing Justine is anybody's guess but it did take him a moment to gather himself again and continue. "Oh." Something about Justine's story just hardened Thomas' resolve that something had to be done about Bianca.
When did he start taking an interest in Chicago again?
He really hated Dresden now. Why couldn't they be in Miami or something?
"I'm sorry she found you like that. You don't deserve this." Then again, most people didn't. Though some people? Some people Thomas would be hard pressed to keep from going to a fate like this one. Some people deserved to be ruined.
--
"Deserve?" Justine looked down. Partly because the hardening of the gray eyes was... strange, difficult to bear for too long, and partly because -
"I am no angel." Appearances notwithstanding, as far as she'd been told. "Perhaps it is what I do deserve." Half-conscously, she reached to help him with the getting dressed, fingers working swiftly and skillfully, pulling, pressing, smoothing and straightening and fastening...
Then she swallowed and looked up again. "But thank you. Maybe something else could have been possible. I do not know what."
Looking down again, she moved to turn the cover of the bed.
She honestly did not know what else there could be. And the queasiness wasn't helping either. More than reminding her what would always be there, hers.
--
"In another life?" he asked with a wry, rueful smile. "Who knows?"
Obediently enough, he settled back onto the bed. "I've never met any angels, Justine, but you've been far more kind to me than you had to be. I think that, in itself, says you don't deserve to be here."
He went digging through the folds of his cloak until he uncovered his pentacle and returned it to its place around his neck. "But it's probably selfish of me to say I'm glad you are." Drugging him notwithstanding. He held no ill will toward her for that. It's not like she would have had a choice, anyway.
Only then did he finally lay back into the bed. He was yawning again.
--
She smiled at his words. Maybe she blushed a trifle. Her eyes followed him as he took out the pendant and placed it around his neck and raised her eyebrow, but she hadn't seen more than the silvery glitter, not the shape (unless he left it over his shirt, of course).
After he settled down, she moved the cloak and sword to the nightstand - it made sense to her that he'd want it within an arm's reach - and sat on the edge of the bed, closing her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. Reaching for his hand, she looked at the bruised wrist and remarked absent-mindedly to herself, "I should have gotten something for these. I'm sorry." At least he could use his hands...
Her eyes rose up to his face again. He looked... tired. "Do you think others would have done differently if they were left there with you as helpless as..." And then she answered her own question, "oh. I guess they would, for some advantage to themselves." A small shrug. "I have no goals of power or gain. It would make no difference." Maybe she was just talking him to sleep, now. It wasn't always in her habit to think aloud. Then again, some would claim it wasn't in her habit - or capacity - to think all that much, at all...
--
Thomas did indeed, tuck the pentacle beneath his shirt.
When she moved his cloak and sword next to him, he murmured something that sounded like a half-asleep thank you. The toll of the last however long it had been had finally fully caught up with him and he was fading into unconsciousness quickly. He didn't even quite register her comment on his wrists or her musings after.
No, he slept deeply, feeling almost safe with her there. Almost.
--
Justine realized he was asleep soon enough. She held his hand a little longer, watching his face relax slowly, his breathing even out. He was... nice people, and she didn't meet too many of those. Even less so after she'd done something against them. Her thoughts went to the tiny syringe laying somewhere outside, where it had been discarded, and she had to swallow hard at the... memory, fuzzy and pleasurable as it had been.
Gingerly and slowly, she rose from the bed, then walked to an old armchair across from the bed, sitting into it as quietly as she could. She knew that right now lying down would just make the vertigo stronger and really feel like throwing up; still, leaning against its back was welcome. She did just that, and tucked her bare feet under her.
These two... The Sorcerer frightened her; and his bidding that she had been told to do was like nobody else's that she knew.
And the Warden... just made her feel out of balance and confused. She couldn't say exactly why - beyond his simply being nice, and also in need... few people around here were in need of her that went other than a certain direction, and while some of those were nice, they always had a certain reward for it in view. He'd just caught her instead of letting her fall (and how had she repaid that? a tiny voice, usually drowned by other things, asked), he'd thanked her, and he'd...
Trusted me.
Now that was something exceedingly rare.
Perhaps he was right to - until her Mistress or her ally wanted her to do something again.
That thought made her feel even queasier. She closed her eyes and relaxed back against the chair's back, breathing deeply. Her thought flicked briefly back, trying to think if he'd locked the door after letting her in. She wasn't sure, nor did she quite dare go and touch it on her own.
But she opened her eyes, quietly sitting and watching over his exhausted, though maybe still rather uneasy, sleep.