The_Luckiest

Ty and Braden

Las Vegas, Nevada.

Tyler trudged slowly down the hotel hallway while his stomach tied itself into the most incredible knots imaginable for such an organ. Arriving at his destination, he stood still for a moment, content to examine the door in front of him. I can’t believe it has taken me this long, he thinks admonishingly to himself. He knocked on the door.

When there was no answer he knocked again.

And again.

A voice from behind him was even more admonishing then his own only moments earlier. It’s full of attitude, contempt and disdain.

“Don’t you know she ain’t here no more?”

Searchlight, Nevada.

Braden trudged slowly through the trailer park, trying to recall from his rather vague recollection exactly which mobile dwelling was occupied by Senorita Hannah. When he finally happened upon it, he knew instantly. He still couldn’t believe how long it had taken him to find his way back into town. He knocked on the door.

When there was no answer he knocked again.

And again.

A rather somber voice calls out from across the way to him.

“If you’re looking for her, you’re too late.”

Tyler blinked a few times as he turned to face a woman who was identified by her name tag as “Mo’niquia. She was short and somewhat rotund, and seemed to be very much peeved with him at the moment.

“What do you mean she’s not here anymore?”

“I mean she’s gone, Einstein. She packed up her shit, including those ridiculous flowers you sent, and took off.”

“How did you know I sent them?”

“Who else but a sulky guy dressed darkly sends something like that?”

“Fair enough. Do you know how I can find her?”

Jane Abernathy stood, in all her mourning glory, on her front trailer porch and glared reprovingly at the young leprechaun.

“Too late? My dear woman, it’s hardly five o’clock in the afternoon. Certainly she doesn’t fall asleep this early.”

“No, you funny talkin’ imbecile, I mean you’re too late. Haven’t you read the papers? That sweet girl got herself caught up with some very bad people. I have no doubt that you’re very much in cahoots with them, and I should call the police on you this very instant!”

“So wait. By too late you mean she’s…dead?”

Tyler felt as though by her lack of an answer she had more information that she was willing to share. This made him rather unpleasant, but before he could express his opinion he had already been cut off with the long awaited reply.

“You missed your chance, Romeo. She didn’t leave any instructions to tell anyone shit, so I ain’t gonna. Now you best move along before I call the security guards.”

Braden had to stand still for a few moments for the news to sink in. He had totally screwed up that little blonde woman’s last chance for amazing sex. Not surprisingly, the guilt hit a little bit heavy in the belt region.

He reached into his pocket for something that hadn’t previously been there. When his hand emerged again, it was holding a small naked troll with ridiculous blue hair. He set it down on the steps to her trailer and turned to walk away.

Tyler stood in front of the door for a few moments longer, his hand resting upon the rugged wood. Finally, with no other alternative, he turned and slowly walked back from where he had come.

The slightest impression of a rose had been burned into the wood where previously his hand had been.

Morning After Clemence

con't from here

With no alarm clock to wake him up, Braden had dozed through half of the morning. Finally, as the sun began to fully permeate his bedroom, he slowly began to leave the land of dreams and return to the land of wakefulness. Before his eyes opened, he noticed that there was a familiar taste in his mouth. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth a few times.

Vodka.

He started to roll over when he became aware of a warmth next to him. It startled his for a only a moment, but then the previous night’s escapades came flooding back him. His brain attempted to process them all and put them into chronological order.

Bar.

Dumb girls making out.

Game of pool.

Pretty Blonde…Clemence? Yeah. Clemence

Vodka.

Cab.

Home.

…

Jiggity Jig. Braden grinned wickedly as he rolled over to check on the condition of his bedmate.

Clemence was pretty sure someone was aiming lightning bolts directly at her head. It wasn't until she felt movement next to her that she opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she was in her trailer, but then she realized that if that were the case, no one should be next to her in the bed.

She quickly sat up, regretting the fact as the room seemed to spin wildly around her. One hand pressed against her forehead, she turned bleary eyes on the person lying next to her. Then it dawned on her. Braden. Oh, yeah.

Looking down, she realized she was in fact nude and hastily pulled the sheets up around her. "Morning," she said, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

It took some doing, but Braden managed to pull himself together quickly enough to not laugh out loud at what he termed the “sheet scramble.” It was not the first time he had seen it. Probably not the last, either. From the look in her eyes, continuing last night’s bedroom festivities this morning was out of the question. At least for now.

“Good morning,” he replied groggily, pushing the sheets off of himself and rising slowly. Rarely did any good come of moving quickly first thing in the morning.

“And yes, I have coffee, aspirin, or whiskey. You may have them in any combination you like.” He guessed whiskey wasn’t going to be a big one with her. Eh, more for him. He crossed the room and flipped the switch on the coffee maker.

Her hangover probably wasn't as bad as it could have been if she had, say, actually drank everything Braden had ordered for her the night previously. And it wasn't as if she had blacked out, either. It only took a moment and all of the night's events returned to her. And then she smiled. People had always said she was afraid to try anything new. Well, if only they could see her now...

"Coffee is fine," she said. Her voice changed from that of 'embarrassed' to 'sure of herself'. Inwardly, she cringed at the thought of anymore alcohol, at least at that moment.

As he stood, she gave him an approving once-over. It wasn't beer goggles last night, that was for sure.

"I'll be back in a sec." With a cheerful smile directed toward him, she wrapped herself in the sheet and made her way to the bathroom. Coming back out a few moments later, she stood in the doorway. "That was some night, huh?"

Pants. Clemence would probably appreciate it if he put some on. Braden spied a pair of jeans lying on the ground, and snatched them up. He pulled them on and was pouring coffee into two empty cups as she spoke. He nodded his head and smiled as he watched what he was doing.

“Indeed it was. It had all of my favorite makings, to be sure.” He added a healthy dose of Bailey’s to his coffee, but left hers alone. Picking them both up, he walked over to Clemence and offered it to her.

“If only all nights could be as good.”

Clemence accepted the steaming cup with a softly uttered, "Thank you." Taking a large sip of the black coffee, not bothering to put any cream or sugar in it, she then set it down on one of the side tables. Grinning at Braden, she quickly swooped in and planted her lips on his, kissing him as if this were a completely normal set of circumstances for her.

She knew she had to be careful. She had heard the stories from friends. Guys who slept with them and then never saw them again. There was something about Braden she liked, and she wasn't quite done with being around him just yet.

"I couldn't agree more," she said, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes.

And the party may well be back on, he thought to himself, after opening his eyes once more. This was great fun; the best way to get the blood flowing in the morning.

“Excellent. I love a good concurrence in the morning,” he replied, glad to see his companion was feeling better and better as time passed. He paused for a moment, content in examining the delicate features that were peering up from him, still wrapped in his bed sheet. He nodded his head over to the table that sat by his kitchenette.

“Hungry?”

Clemence laughed lightly. "I bet you do." She pulled away, but rested her hands upon his chest. She seemed to be watching him closely, as if he were the most fascinating being on the planet.

She was indeed feeling better every moment. And she wasn't sure it was just the coffee that had helped. Her resolve seemed to have strengthened, even more so than the previous night. Her headache seemed to have vanished completely.

She followed his gaze toward the table, and then looked back at him with a smile fixed on her face. "It depends. Hungry for what?"

That was a green light. And Braden so loved green.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and the reached out quickly and pulled her into himself, turning her around so that her back was pressed against his chest.

“Sorry for the confusion,” he said into her ear playfully. “I was only nodding at the table because the bed is off limits, since you’re wrapped up in my sheet. But I have other various spaces, if the table doesn’t work for you.” His arms had snaked around her waist as he spoke, and he was immensely enjoying the way the warmth of her body felt through the thin sheet.

There was spinning again, this type a lot more pleasant than when she had first woken up. She had been turned around and was now facing the same direction as Braden. Looking at the table thoughtfully and appraisingly, she craned her neck so she was looking back at him. "Do you think that would hold up under the...pressure?"

She paused, pressing against him for full effect. "I mean, it looks like it would be expensive to replace..."

Braden’s eyes furrowed as his gaze went from the table to the face looking up at him, and then back to the table for a moment. “Fuck it,” he said with a shrug. Technically, it wasn’t his table, so it wasn’t his problem. He looked down at her with a grin, and then seemed to reconsider. “Though you may be right, it might not be as sturdy as it appears. Perhaps the one on the balcony would suit our purposes better. Or perhaps, and this is a beauty of an idea, perhaps we should try both of them and then compare…notes.”

He squeezed her gently for effect, and then rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. Even after a bar, booze, and a night of physical exertion, she still gave off the most pleasing of aromas. It was as if she was more intoxicating to Braden than the entire amount of alcohol he had consumed that week. And it was already Friday.

Clemence watched him as he seemed to consider her words. He really was entertaining, and charming in a roguish sort of way. And she was definitely glad she had ventured out to Vegas.

"Compare notes, huh? That sounds like a reasonable thing to do." She turned around, facing him once more. "I mean, sure, there's also the floor and the wall, but if you only want to try the tables, I understand completely." She accompanied this statement with a faux innocent look.

Braden was eating this conversation up. He couldn’t suppress an honest laugh.

“I think that you just might be a step or two ahead of me this morning,” he admitted, leaning back against the doorframe behind him without breaking away from Clemence. He peeked over at her coffee cup, and then back at his, which he had sat down near hers. “Are you sure that you didn’t get the one with the Bailey’s in it?”

Clemence glanced over at the cup. It definitely wasn't alcohol that was affecting her. She knew, vaguely, that she wasn't really acting like herself. But she hadn't been completely happy being her old self anyway. No, this was definitely a change for the better. "I'm pretty sure I didn't. But if you want, I can slow down."

Braden’s eyes got wide and his head shook slowly from side to side. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you? This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” Intricately woven within he personality were several points that Braden was beginning to enjoy having around, even if it was early in the morning. Perhaps it was that he saw parts of himself in her, or perhaps it was that he saw parts of a being that he had always fancied himself, he wasn’t sure. But that fact that she seemed to have an answer for his every line, and that she seemed to be able to go toe-to-toe with him verbally was really starting to get under his skin in a way that left him wanting just a little more.

He was about to say something else when the phone in his pocket began to vibrate in a manner most insane. And he had a feeling he knew who it was. “Do you mind if I answer this? It won’t take long.”

Clemence sat down in one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other so that the sheet rode up a bit, revealing quite a bit of leg. She flashed Braden a smile. "Not at all." She could be patient; especially knowing fun times most likely lay ahead.

As his phone flipped open, Braden mouthed the words thank you God, all the while not removing his eyes from the white flesh that made him wish that he was, at current moment, a chair.

“Top of the morning to you, sir…actually, I’m engaged in some business at the moment…no I shall be for a while…I can’t answer that…I can’t tell you why…Yes, because she would hear me…Yes, we did have fun last night, thank you kindly…I wouldn’t tell you that anyways…why? Because you’re my grandfather, that’s why you crazy old…Yes, I can say that she is very pretty…Yes she is, just as the day she was born, you sick…I’m still on the phone because you’re keeping me here…Right, I’ll call you later…Yes, goodbye.”

Braden hung up the phone, grinning from ear to ear at Clemence. He closed the distance between them, placing his arms on either side of the chair. His weight fully supported, he leaned down in her face, simply because he found that he enjoyed being there. “My grandfather, ever the bastard he was born, says to wish you a good morning.”

Clemence couldn't help it, she laughed out loud as soon as Braden ended the exchange. "How flattering," she said, grinning at him all the while.

As he came over to her, she looked up at him. "That's very sweet of him. And can I assume your, er, penchant for the ladies is an inherited familial trait?"

Braden rolled his eyes, but it was in a good natured fashion. “If we were there or he was here, he’d be knocking on the door, hoping to fight me to the bone for your attention. By the way, penchant was an excellent word choice. I congratulate you on it.”

He looked her over for a few seconds, something that he had suddenly found himself in the habit of doing. She was an interesting creature, and seemed to be just as comfortable here as he was. He reached for his coffee, mainly for the alcoholic treasure that lay inside. He downed it, much like a shot, and placed it back on the table.

“I’ve known you twelve hours, and you’ve already had the singular unfortunate event of having indirect contact with a direct person of my linage. You are now deciding in your mind that I’m probably most unbalanced, and that you should smile and nod as you head for the door.” He raised his eyebrows quickly. “Good thing the door is locked.”

She paused, clearing her throat daintily before continuing. "One, he'd have to be some man, because I couldn't imagine paying attention to anyone else with you around. Two, it's been more like fourteen hours, give or take."

She scooted slowly toward the edge of her chair, so that she was very close to him, indeed. "And three, the lock is irrelevant. I wouldn't even consider the notion of leaving now."

Braden found this a most opportune time to get around to something he’d been meaning to do for a while now, and return the kiss that she had given him minutes before. So he did, leaning in the rest of the way, tasting her lips against his. He pulled back and away from her for a moment, and then sunk to his knees so that he was in a more comfortable position.

It was definitely getting to be time for more booze, but that was pushed to the back of his mind for a moment. Now in a better position, he leaned in and again met her lips with his. His hand had slipped down to the bare leg that had been exposed before his phone conversation, and his fingertips lightly paced down the side of her leg and then back up again.

The blonde broke away from their kiss for only a moment. "Care to ask me what drives me crazy now?" she asked softly.

The truth was, she couldn't have felt saner. She felt as if she now saw all things with a perfect clarity. She knew what she wanted, and how to get it. What could be more perfect than that?

She had to admit, though, that every time he kissed her stomach did little cartwheels inside. And she didn't mind at all telling him how he made her feel, because she knew she was affecting him in a positive way.

By way of a first response, Braden simply kissed her again, this time leaving his hand high upon her leg, almost to her hip. The way her skin felt under his hand made him want more of it to be bare, so that he could again take full advantage of it.

“Ok, sure. What drives you crazy, Clemence?”

She leaned in, less than inches away from his ear. "This. In a good way."

She leaned back to gauge his reaction.

Braden grinned, nodded his head in satisfaction, and then rose to his feet, but did not move back. He looked down at her with his head half cocked to the side. “You are an open women, Clemence, there’ll be no denying it,” he stated, his voice betraying his general approval. His arms crossed and rested gently on his chest. And she knew what she was doing, like an old pro. “Where did you learn how to handle me so well?”

She laughed, standing up and crossing over to him. She glanced down at his crossed arms and couldn't help but give an amused smirk. "Wait, I know I had the manual here somewhere." She pretended to search invisible pockets for a moment before giving up.

"I guess not. But if it's any comfort, you handle me just fine yourself." She raised one eyebrow suggestively. "More than fine, actually. To steal your phrase, 'damn good'."

Braden nodded quickly. “Of course I do,” he replied, as if it was common knowledge. “It’s my talent. I’m very, very good at handling you. It’s a blessing and a curse.” And yes, she was definitely wearing that sheet around just to make him hope that it fell off. And yes, he was hoping it fell off.

“But this thing you’re doing, this deal where you are using my powers of evil against me, it’s new. It’s impressive.” His mind was working in overtime. “But if it is to continue, I may need to have that bed sheet back.”

Clemence grinned wickedly. "Ohhh, I see. You're more concerned about your sheet," she said playfully.

She appeared to think for a moment before coming to a decision. "Well, if you really want it back...here you go." And with that, she let it fall to the floor.

"Better?"

It was to continue. Excellent.

Eyes raked over the now very bare flesh that stood only a few feet from him. It only took a few steps to close in that distance; for him to be standing right in front of her. His grin was borderline of malicious has thoughts raced through his mind. Thoughts of exactly where this should go from here.

First his left knee bent, then his right followed suit so that his head was about even with her stomach. Tasting the soft pale skin was the only pleasure he wanted at the moment, and so he indulged it by allowing his lips to press gently next to her naval. He spent some time circling that exact spot with his tongue, kissing her again and again.

The direction of his oral attention drifted further and further south of her body.

Clemence's eyes seemed to become very heavy and close of their own accord. Not due to tiredness, but because she wanted all of her other senses focused on this moment. This moment when everything seemed to melt away. The past, the future, neither mattered because for once, she didn't want to be anywhere than in the present.

As Braden lowered himself down her body, her hands followed, wrapping her fingers lightly in his hair. Biting her lip, her head tilting back slightly as she felt his mouth on her stomach, then...lower. Well, this was new; she wasn't about to end her 'trying new things' streak anytime soon, it seemed.

Encouraged by the body language, Braden continued to explore this venue to see exactly where it would lead and in what vehicle they would arrive there. He was more than happy to focus on her for the moment.

His hands slid up the back of her legs, only to slowly rake back down them again. While most of his attention was focused on his activities, he did try to keep an eye on her balance, for if her knees were to buckle it could ruin the fun right quick. He leaned forward, allowing the top of his torso to rest against the lower part of her thighs. For him, it was contact with skin, and for her it would serve as an aid to balance.

The intensity got dialed up, albeit slowly. But as she got into it, so did he. Sensual contact was infectious in that regard.

Her eyes opened slowly, just enough to see him clearly. She balanced her hands on his shoulders as she smiled slowly, almost drunkenly. "You...are such a tease." Of course, the enjoyment was evident in that statement, and she knew he could hear it. It wasn't an admonition so much as it was acknowledgement.

Braden leaned back, slipping his hand to the inside of her right thigh, allowing it to creep upwards.

“Had you read my business card, this would have been made apparent to you earlier,” he replied, feeling rather pleased with himself. He looked her over for a few moments, and then finally conceded to a feeling he had in the back recesses of his mind.

“You stopped me,” he stated with a playful yet questioning look. “So, maybe you want me to stop, which I know isn’t true..” He trailed off, leaving room for he to tell him what she wanted to happen next. Hell, maybe she had to get home to a husband or something.

She feigned a sigh. "I always forget to ask for the business card. It's a flaw of mine, I'm afraid."

A wicked smile spread across her face. "I stopped you because I thought of something better."

Without warning, she pushed him backward, taking care to not exert too much pressure so that he didn't hit his head. The blonde dropped to her knees, then slowly crawled forward until she was straddling him. Her long hair brushed his skin as she lowered her lips to his neck, to whisper, "Like this, for instance." One hand was already making its way down to the fly of his jeans.

If a husband did indeed exist, he was apparently still away on business or whatever might take him away. This was agreeable to Braden.

Her hair gliding across his stomach and chest did very good things for him. The soft voice that cooed in his ear was also a plus. He looked up at her now, licking his lips in anticipation. She was surprisingly good at what she did, much better than he had first anticipated. It must be true what they say; good girls grow up to be wild women.

“You seem to have the best ideas, Clemence. I commend you fully.”

It wasn't long indeed before she had his pants off and flung halfway across the room. Now it was bare skin on skin, the sensation alone enough to make her go crazy.

"Mm, I thought so. I can have some pretty brilliant ideas from time to time."

To illustrate this point, she ground her body against his, making sure to focus on the lower extremities.

"Unless...you can think of anything better?"

Braden offered a shrug as a response, but it was clear that this was done completely in jest. She was making him just as crazy as he was making her. Grasping onto her strategically, it wasn’t long before he was inside her. Her weight pressing down into his hips felt strangely wonderful, leaving him wanting only to push back up against her again and again.

With her atop him, his decisions were somewhat limited. He knew that he could roll her over quickly and take a more controlling role, but he was enjoying watching her take the lead and let go of her last inhibitions.

Leah and Braden meet

As Braden laid his three pieces of luggage on the bed, he sighed out of complete lack of anything stimulating. He’d been in his hotel room just long enough to take a lengthy piss and raid the mini-fridge while trying to get the T.V. onto something fun.

Like pornography. Instead, he got Jeopardy.

“…I’ll take The Afterlife for eight hundred, Alex…”

“This is a place of extreme torment, where there is said to be ‘weeping and gnashing of teeth’…”

“What is a fucken hotel room” he muttered under his breath in response to the droning, dull voice coming from the far side of the room.

This was torture. Braden was not going to take minutes upon excruciating minutes to unpack when there was a casino with a full bar and pretty waitress’s right below. So still dressed in his dark maroon T-shirt and dark jeans, he grabbed his wallet and downed the rest of the joke of a bottle of vodka as he made a bee line for the elevator, and the salvation that waited for him at the end of the elevator ride.

"Bartender, gimme another." Leah ordered, already half in the bag as she sat at the aforementioned full bar. Four empty glasses rested in front of her and the hybrid didn't plan on slowing down until the sun was above the horizon.

After the near death encounter with Vicky, she'd changed out of the costume and gotten the heck out of Fang Noir, driving just down the strip to her favorite casino and walking straight into the bar. It was a crowded joint and she'd been hit on several times already, but the seat next to hers was vacant as she'd shown a decided lack of interest in the hopefuls who'd tried to pick her up. She was in no mood to flirt with tourists tonight, her normally insatiable appetite dormant.

The blame for what had happened could be laid entirely at her feet: Vicky's personality was being distorted out of all recognition and it was all Leah's fault. If she hadn't done that 'favor' for Elfleda, the Vampiress would still be her cheerfully erotic and tasteful self. Instead, the stone was twisting her into nothing more than a sadistic killing machine.

Something had to be done, but. Leah had no idea how to fix things without pissing off an extremely powerful being that could do all sorts of nasty things to her without breaking a sweat. Would getting rid of the stone restore Vicky back to her normal self? Leah didn't know that either.

Strolling through the casino, Braden eyed several tables of various card games. Any kind of gambling suited him well enough, and often he came away with his pockets much more full than when he arrived. He’d always shrug his shoulders modestly as he left the table.

What could he say? He just seemed to be a lucky guy.

And that (in)famous luck appeared to be kicking into overdrive as he spied an empty bar seat next to a pretty girl. His grandpop had told him on several occasions that heaven was made up of empty barstools next to attractive women. Only Grandpop tended to use more colorful, descriptive language. Such a charming little man. Funny as hell.

Braden slide into the seat with ease, and nodded at the bartender’s quizzical look. “Bottle of Jamerson, for starters,” he requested. “And a nice tall glass of ice, if ya’ don’t mind too much.”

Leah's own drink arrived about the time the newcomer sat down beside her. She gave him a once over and nodded slightly, acknowledging both his presence and the fact he was a fairly good looking guy, then proceeded to ignore him.

She took a deep sip of drink number five and continued to beat herself up over Vicky, and to try and blot out the memory of the vampiress's teeth being oh so close to her throat. Next time, if there was a next time, she might not be so lucky the rate Vicky was changing. If she couldn't figure out a way to get rid of that stone and return her friend to normal, then she would need to quit Fang Noir and have a disinvite spell cast on her townhouse.

Doing otherwise would just be too dangerous, the way things were headed.

Noticing the once over he received, Braden just smiled to himself as the bottle and glass were presented on the bar before him. He tipped the bottle to its side, allowing the liquor to pour over the ice and collect at the bottom of the glass. After about four or five ounces he withdrew the bottle and placed it back on the bar again. It was about that time that he noticed the far away look of concern on his neighbor’s face.

She was concerned, there was no missing that. As to what, Braden had no inclination to venture a guess, because he was at a complete loss. Hopefully she hadn’t been waiting for anyone.

“No need to look concerned, miss. I assure you that though I may consume the contents of this bottle, I shall recover in the morning. No need to be lookin’ so glum.”

"Hmmm?" Leah focused her attention on the man beside her. He was pretty well built, and that accent was pretty cute she had to admit.

"Sorry," she told him after taking another sip of her drink, her words slurring just a little from the booze she'd already imbibed, "I'm probably not the best conversation partner at the moment. Rough night at work." And boy, wasn't that the truth?

He was fairly cute, and she had her necklace just in case she'd felt like a little fun without having to drain them dry in the process. "I'm Leah." She extended a hand for him to shake.

Right away, Braden noticed that she had very soft hands as he took hers into his. And long nails, which was a favorite of the leprechaun. He quickly picked up on her slurred speech, and he grinned. Damn, she was already that far ahead of him!

“Pleasure to meet you Leah, my name is Braden. I’m terribly sorry to hear about your problems at work. Please feel free to drown them in my bottle,” he replied, sliding the green glass across the wood grain. He took a long drink himself, eyeing her for the moment.

"Braden," Leah tried the name out, experimenting with it a few times to make sure she had the pronunciation right. She eyed him back and took another sip of her drink. The hybrid was just drunk enough that she was willing to try and take him up on his offer. "You're going to think I'm crazy, but who cares? You're just a tourist and will be gone in a day or two anyway. My boss is a vampire, and she's going crazy and it’s all my fault."

Braden’s eyes furrowed, he opened his mouth to say something, but instead lifted his glass to his lips and finished it off, looking hard at her the entire time. He grabbed up at the bottle and quickly filled his glass again, shaking his head from side to side.

“I fucken hate vampires,” he hissed, keeping his voice low as to not draw attention. “Bad lot, all of em. Nothing good ever came from that side of the world, if I do dare say.” He did hate them, too. He was pretty sure they carried all kinds of very contagious diseases, ones that the Good People didn’t recover so well from. Like death.

“Wonderful thing you did, says I,” he announced, lifting his glass in salute to her for what he considered a hand fairly dealt to the undead vermin.

"Nooooo , Vicky's different! Or at least she was," Leah protested vehemently, slurring her words even further and grasping hold of one arm. "She was a killer sure, but everybody's gotta go sometime. She wasn't brutal about it and she didn't do it for fun. Vicky was an artist, a businesswoman. But because I wanted a fix from..." she avoided mentioning Elfelda's name for fear of attracting attention from the Corruptress. Right now that was the last thing she wanted. "From someone else, I did them a favor. That favor is turning Vicky into something I hardly recognize anymore, and I almost got bit because I tried to get her to recognize that."

Her confession was every bit as clear as emerald mud to Braden, nevertheless he tried hard to keep up with the string of thoughts that came out of the dark haired cutie’s mouth. He nodded and frowned, putting it together as best he could in his mind. A fix? Maybe it wasn’t just alcohol that Leah had been consuming.

“So, if I’m not all turned around, you did a favor for some drugs and that favor, in turn, messed with your vampire friend’s head?” Out of the corner of his eye, he tried to locate the bartender to give her the infamous ‘cut this one off’ sign. She was nowhere to be found.

“Sounds like ya got yerself in quite the pickle.” Braden took another long drink, as was his custom when he wasn’t speaking.

"No, no, no," Leah blinked and sat up to her full height. "I am not a druggie." She enunciated slowly and clearly.

She took another gulp of her drink and returned her attention to Braden. "I'm a half breed, my momma was a succubus." If he knew about vampires, then fuck it she wasn't going to worry about what she told him. He was just a tourist anyway, and if she scared him off so be it. "There are energies that feel and 'taste' good to me, and this other friend of mine...aw hell, I can't explain it, just take my word for it, I'm not a druggie."

The last of drink number five found its way into her stomach and the hybrid set the empty glass down on the counter. "So anyway, she asks me 'Please place this stone somewhere in the office where Vicky won't see it, it won't hurt her any.' and like an idiot I say 'ok'. Ever since Vicky's been getting more brutal and...thuggish, about killing. Tonight? The main performance was a guy getting crucified upside down and disemboweled."

The hybrid frowned and set her hands on her hips, "Now tell me, how am I supposed to schmooze the customers and get them to have a good time when something like that is going on? It was all I could do to keep people from running out the door. And the thanks I get for pointing out my concerns? Nearly being bled out or turned into walking dead."

She slumped and looked down. "Sometimes life sucks."

“Oh indeed it does, sometimes,” he agreed, drinking upon that statement as if to show his approval. Something struck Braden as singularly strange, but very elementary.

“Why don’t you just go take the magic stone back off the blood-sucker’s desk?” He shuddered a bit, inadvertently, at the need to reference vampires yet again.

"Because this other 'friend'? She's way powerful, like something out of a fantasy movie about a goddess. If I move that stone, she isn't going to be happy, and if she can make me feel really good just by thinking about it, then she can probably make me feel really bad too. This isn't someone you want pissed at you."

If she could just find a way to get rid of that stone without Elfleda knowing it was her...."Darian!" She said suddenly, in a flash of inspiration caused by excessive alchohol. She'd contact the Dealmaker and get him to move the stone! If its business then Elfleda might not know Leah was behind it.

The girl looked down at the empty glass. "Eureka...bartender, another round! And one for my friend here."

Braden glanced up at the bartender, who was giving the young woman an eye as if maybe she was about to suggest calling it quits with the booze for a while. Braden could not have this, so he pointed at Leah and then at himself, and flashed his room key. See, they weren’t driving. Please run along and bring back liquor. Quickly. The bartender seemed satisfied with this, and went to concoct the drinks.

“It’s nice of you to buy a passer through a drink,” he mused politely, turning his attention back to Leah. “And I wish you the best of luck with this little venture of yours. Unfortunately, I must go. I’m long overdue at the card tables. Have to squeeze in all the fun you can, you know.” He picked up the glass the bartender had just brought, and laid down more then enough money to cover his booze, her booze, and still make a present of a sizable tip to the bartender.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, though. Remember to stay off drugs, right?” He laughed a little as he winked at her, to gesture that he was only joking. He stood to leave. Interestingly enough, the bottle of Jamerson had disappeared entirely from the bar.

Leah pouted just a little. He was cute and now that she'd solved the problem of how to get rid of the stone without Elfleda knowing it was her, her libido had started to come back. She wanted to celebrate, and he looked like just the right creature to celebrate with.

Unfortunately, she was drunk enough that she didn't think to work her mojo on him, her thought processes just weren't that fast at the moment.

"A pleasure to meet you too, Braden. Good luck at the tables this morning." It was morning, judging from the clock behind the bar, but sunrise wouldn't be for a few hours yet.

Train roll on.

Braden had decided instantly upon the train as his preferred mode of transport from New York City to Las Vegas. There was no sense of urgency, as he knew that as soon as he arrived at his destination he would be staying for a while. Why not enjoy the trip?
It was four days in total. Braden had secured himself a small room, complete with a bed that folded out from the side of the wall. He spent relatively little time there, for there existed a few cars down a wonderful viewing area, with the walls made almost entirely of glass. Below, there was a small bar that served the more common forms of beer and liquor. Within two hours, they knew that Braden was going to be their best customer.
He spent much of his time with a drink in his hand, staring off into the distance from his perch in the viewing car. At night, they played older movies like “Captain Ron” or “Goldfinger”, but during the day it was simply the shuffling of the scenery outside and of people inside.
Once in a while, someone would sit down beside him, and the two of them would share several moments of silent proximity as plains, forests, rivers, cities, and all the wildlife that these places could entail flew by. A few times someone might strike up a brief conversation, but it almost always centered around the view.
Braden had to make more connections with the train than would have been necessary with a flight, but he didn’t care. His first run took him from New York to Chicago. Having only ten minutes, he raced from one platform to the next, catching the train that rain from Chicago to Albuquerque. His layover there was three hours, so he took a stroll in the hot desert sun, stopping and admiring the little tables that were set up as make-shift shops. He happened upon a gold medallion of St. Patrick, with a shamrock on the far side. He laughed out loud when he found this, and paid the little dark-haired girl sitting at the table twice what they were asking for it; an amount which came to the grand total of five dollars.
His good luck charm hung around his neck and under his shirt, with a bit of the chain peeking out from the top of his t-shirt. He got back to the station and boarded his train once more, and settled in for the short trip with his favorite traveling partner, Jack Daniels.
Vegas was only a few hours away.

blah blah

test test