The stairs bottom out at an elevator, and despite the confidence I’m trying to project for Eve’s sake, elevators that go down in this building make me nervous. Who knows where you might wind up?
And, all right, elevators in general are making me relive some interesting moments…
“I think this leads to the parking garage,” I tell Eve, putting my arm around her waist and letting her lean into me. Her hair spills over my shoulder, and in this light, it looks like blood. I clear my throat and listen to the whir of the gears pulling us to a stop. “Here we go.”
The doors slide open, revealing … a car collector’s wet dream. “Holy shit.” It’s like a goddamn show room in here! Vintage pieces, models I haven’t even heard of let alone seen … the man’s got three Ferrari’s in row, for crying out loud! Son of a bitch, don’t tell me this is the price of Angel’s precious soul?
Well. At least our getaway car is going to be fast. “If it’s true what they say about overcompensation, Angel’s got a dick the size of a…”
I let Lindsey lead us down the hall to the elevators, clinging to him and resting my head against his chest as we head down. His heartbeat was soothing to my ears and I felt myself relax slightly.
Mistake number one I think.
As soon as the door's opened I could feel it, I didn't have to see it because I knew that feeling for so long. Hamilton. Oh god, he's going to stop us or he's going to hurt Lindsey once he see's what kind of shape I'm in right now. Lindsey moves in front of me, hiding me behind him and from Hamilton. It won't work, I know it won't
( ... )
When MacDonald sees me, he steps in front of Eve - the gallant knight protecting his damsel in distress. It would be funny, of course, if it weren't so incredibly pathetic...
Alright. So it is a bit funny, too.
No more so than Eve's attempt at, presumbly, returning the favor. Yes, let's put on our game faces, children. It won't help you, but it could be entertaining for me.
I tuck my hands in my pockets and come to a stop about a foot away from the elevator. And consider.
"Coming to pick up your brain child girlfriend?"
Now what might Eve mean by that..? An interesting question.
"I see that you have. Come to retrieve the missus, I mean." I shift my gaze from Eve, looking even more frail and girlish than she had before she'd been made mortal, to MacDonald. Standing at his full height, for all the good it does him. "My but your dance card's been full this evening."
He hasn’t killed us yet. Which either means that he’s in a good mood, or simply a playful one, drawing this out. But although my heart’s pounding and I’m damn near trembling with an overdose of good old ‘fight-or-flight’, my fear is coming full circle. So scared that I’m not afraid anymore.
Okay, less afraid. I’ve heard what this guy can do.
"My but your dance card's been full this evening," he observes, the very picture of casual power. I brush off the little shot of jealousy that washes over me and force a smile
( ... )
“So … what’s it going to take for you to let us out of here?” I do enjoy the implications of MacDonald's having reached the bargaining stage so quickly. Perhaps the firm's psych evaluations of him are not 100% accurate, after all. He does have some sense of self preservation, however futile
( ... )
Well damn. Hope there's a security camera down here because I sure as hell plan on giving Angel the finger before I meet my untimely death. Feels just like it did in Holland's wine cellar, the same numb apathy of an inescapable situation, the same cold acceptance that there could be worse ways to go.
We're ... not going to die? Oh. Well, that's even better.
"It's me you want," I tell him, letting go of Eve and stepping forward with all the bravado I can muster. A move which, coincidentally, might've worked better if the guy didn't have a solid half-foot of height on me. "Go on and let her leave, alright? I'll come with you ... no trouble. Hell, you won't even need the manacles."
Lame joke and an even weaker smile. I'd gesture Eve to start running about now, except there's this thing I remember about wolves. They always move in for the kill when the prey starts running.
"I'm the guy you want," I repeat quietly, my eyes locked on his like I've got Jedi mind-meld powers. Let Eve go. My
( ... )
He walked in front of me, talking to Hamilton like a subservient employee of the firm; pleading for my freedom and offering himself up instead. Didn't Lindsey realize that I didn't have freedom anymore? There was never going to be a time that I'd be free
( ... )
And you might be surprised what I can manage, Hamilton."
Well, well, well... That is interesting. Even I will give Angel more credit than to think he let MacDonald out of his cell simply to get what the man's determined stare and quiet voice might promise. But I will not deny that I see the allure.
"I am not easily surprised, Mr. MacDonald," I caution him with a smile. It is entirely possible, though not highly probable, that he didn't intend his offer to sacrifice himself for Eve's sake to sound like solicitation. But, intentional or not, I think it's best I warn MacDonald now to be careful what he wishes for. I give him an obvious once over to clarify my meaning.
And then Eve steps back into my immediate line of sight.
She takes MacDonald's hand and insists on staying with him. As if I'd even considered letting her leave. Her refusal to try and save herself is somewhat impressive, regardless. And more than somewhat repulsive.
"I take it you're going to personally escort us back, Hamilton?"Of
( ... )
Comments 15
And, all right, elevators in general are making me relive some interesting moments…
“I think this leads to the parking garage,” I tell Eve, putting my arm around her waist and letting her lean into me. Her hair spills over my shoulder, and in this light, it looks like blood. I clear my throat and listen to the whir of the gears pulling us to a stop. “Here we go.”
The doors slide open, revealing … a car collector’s wet dream. “Holy shit.” It’s like a goddamn show room in here! Vintage pieces, models I haven’t even heard of let alone seen … the man’s got three Ferrari’s in row, for crying out loud! Son of a bitch, don’t tell me this is the price of Angel’s precious soul?
Well. At least our getaway car is going to be fast. “If it’s true what they say about overcompensation, Angel’s got a dick the size of a…”
Oh shit. Hamilton.I step in ( ... )
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Mistake number one I think.
As soon as the door's opened I could feel it, I didn't have to see it because I knew that feeling for so long. Hamilton. Oh god, he's going to stop us or he's going to hurt Lindsey once he see's what kind of shape I'm in right now. Lindsey moves in front of me, hiding me behind him and from Hamilton. It won't work, I know it won't ( ... )
Reply
Alright. So it is a bit funny, too.
No more so than Eve's attempt at, presumbly, returning the favor. Yes, let's put on our game faces, children. It won't help you, but it could be entertaining for me.
I tuck my hands in my pockets and come to a stop about a foot away from the elevator. And consider.
"Coming to pick up your brain child girlfriend?"
Now what might Eve mean by that..? An interesting question.
"I see that you have. Come to retrieve the missus, I mean." I shift my gaze from Eve, looking even more frail and girlish than she had before she'd been made mortal, to MacDonald. Standing at his full height, for all the good it does him. "My but your dance card's been full this evening."
Reply
Okay, less afraid. I’ve heard what this guy can do.
"My but your dance card's been full this evening," he observes, the very picture of casual power. I brush off the little shot of jealousy that washes over me and force a smile ( ... )
Reply
I do enjoy the implications of MacDonald's having reached the bargaining stage so quickly. Perhaps the firm's psych evaluations of him are not 100% accurate, after all. He does have some sense of self preservation, however futile ( ... )
Reply
Well damn. Hope there's a security camera down here because I sure as hell plan on giving Angel the finger before I meet my untimely death. Feels just like it did in Holland's wine cellar, the same numb apathy of an inescapable situation, the same cold acceptance that there could be worse ways to go.
We're ... not going to die? Oh. Well, that's even better.
"It's me you want," I tell him, letting go of Eve and stepping forward with all the bravado I can muster. A move which, coincidentally, might've worked better if the guy didn't have a solid half-foot of height on me. "Go on and let her leave, alright? I'll come with you ... no trouble. Hell, you won't even need the manacles."
Lame joke and an even weaker smile. I'd gesture Eve to start running about now, except there's this thing I remember about wolves. They always move in for the kill when the prey starts running.
"I'm the guy you want," I repeat quietly, my eyes locked on his like I've got Jedi mind-meld powers. Let Eve go. My ( ... )
Reply
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And you might be surprised what I can manage, Hamilton."
Well, well, well... That is interesting. Even I will give Angel more credit than to think he let MacDonald out of his cell simply to get what the man's determined stare and quiet voice might promise. But I will not deny that I see the allure.
"I am not easily surprised, Mr. MacDonald," I caution him with a smile. It is entirely possible, though not highly probable, that he didn't intend his offer to sacrifice himself for Eve's sake to sound like solicitation. But, intentional or not, I think it's best I warn MacDonald now to be careful what he wishes for. I give him an obvious once over to clarify my meaning.
And then Eve steps back into my immediate line of sight.
She takes MacDonald's hand and insists on staying with him. As if I'd even considered letting her leave. Her refusal to try and save herself is somewhat impressive, regardless. And more than somewhat repulsive.
"I take it you're going to personally escort us back, Hamilton?"Of ( ... )
Reply
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