Satin Bruises

Reilly pulled into the only open spot behind Guilty Pleasures, the only Preternatural strip joint in St. Louis. She got out of her car, checking the creases in her wool slacks. When she had tugged, patted, and adjusted every aspect of her outfit into compulsively straight lines, she started toward the employee entrance door, only to realize she had forgotten her purse. With a frustrated little hop, she went back to the car, silently scolding herself.

This was no different than her previous job, she just needed to keep her head down and ignore the fact that she had broken the head honcho's mistress's arm yesterday. Oh god. With a few calming breaths, she snagged her purse and walked confidently into the strip joint. Nobody in the club took any notice of her, except the bouncer at the door who wanted to see her I.D. Flattered that someone still thought she was under the age of 21, Reilly made her way through the crowd, eying the dancer on stage. He looked like a pedigree Chippendale, with lavender eyes and long auburn hair. Reilly almost stopped in her tracks, but a soft voice, barely audible above the pulsing music, beckoned her.

"Come, Miss Gallion, no time to waste." Reilly turned her head and met Jean-Claude's piercing eyes.

"Oh, yes, of course," Reilly replied while she followed him into his office. Jean-Claude waited until Reilly took a seat across from him before he gracefully lowered himself into his own seat.

"I am sure you are wondering why I hired you after yesterday's little performance, Miss Gallion," He began, leaning back in his chair to regard her. With a half-amused little smile, she nodded. His own lips quirked up, almost sardonically.

"Mademoiselle, I am going to be very honest with you. I have spoken with your former employer extensively, and he assured me that your discretion and loyalty were boundless. I am relying heavily on his judgment in telling you what I am about to," he started, frivolous manner dropped for something older and a bit more sad. Reilly remained silent, not sure what to anticipate. He was quiet for a long moment, trying to decide how best to begin.

"My people are divided," he finally said, smooth lines returning to his face. "I am fighting a loosing battle with a woman I once loved, and it is tearing my territory apart. At this point in time, the council is a hovering evil at the edges of my thoughts, and just when I need to be at my most powerful, I am plagued by petty power struggles and faithlessness. My people lose hope in me. This is unacceptable," he hissed, a bitter set coming over his features. Reilly studied him, pondering how best to address this. In a sudden, uncomfortable realization, Reilly noticed how truly, sickeningly, dangerously beautiful Jean-Claude was.

Dark hair hung in perfect curls to his shoulders, brushing the liquid silk of his white shirt with delicate tendrils. The shirt itself was high-collared, and had elegant, ruffled sleeves, with the deep gleam of ruby colored buttons marching down his chest and into his low leather pants. Every bit of his body was a textural feast, and Reilly examined his long fingered hands appreciatively. He had the overall build of a marble statue, all even planes and lean muscle. She cast a quick glance over his angelic face, and stopped at his drowning eyes. She had never before noticed how blue they were. He held perfectly still under her scrutiny until she had sized him up entirely. Before she could consciously make a decision, her gut spoke for her.

"Tell me everything, and I will fix all of it," she said settling comfortably in her chair, prepared for a long story. Reilly caught the instant of surprise that widened his eyes and softened his cupid's bow mouth. Before she could even be sure of it, he was untouchable marble stillness again. This time though, his blue eyes blazed with something that looked suspiciously like gratitude.

"Very well then, let us get down to business," he said, a wicked smirk playing havoc with Reilly's thought processes. With a mental shake, she threw herself completely into her job-again.

"Why exactly did you hire me?" Reilly asked quietly.

"Originally I wanted your unique...services to encourage loyalty, and your extensive power to bolster my defenses. Your tactical genius is impressive, and your diplomacy is admirable," he said, flatteringly.

"And after 'the show'?" She pressed.

"I want you to keep Ms. Blake in line," he said simply, daring her to comment on how he was throwing his lover to the proverbial dogs.

"She's encouraging revolt," Reilly stated, pieces finally falling into place. He nodded slowly, once.

"She no longer wishes to be a part of this lifestyle, and because of her unusual connections, she can drag down my entire power base with her," he said, eyes darkening to something close to hatred. "Also, she pines for her former lover. A mister-"

"Richard Zeeman," Reilly supplied, turning to her purse. From its depths she pulled a packed file folder, and flipping it open, very quickly thumbed through it. "Junior High science teacher, alpha werewolf, is thought to suffer from depression or bi-polar disorder, I thought that their break up was a fairly messy one?" Reilly verified, confused as to why this old flame was being rekindled. Jean-Claude eyed the folder, impressed. Reilly smiled.

"I asked about you, also, Monsieur. My business is a dangerous one," she explained simply. He laughed gently, the sound brushing her skin like the slow trace of finger tips.

"It appears I have hired the right woman after all," he said, a satisfied lilt to his voice.

"I am the best a what I do for a reason," she answered, smiling back. God, she loved her work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raleigh parked her black Eclipse in the driveway of her father's huge house, dreading having to go inside. She adjusted her make up and hair in the mirror (their father was all about appearances) before getting out of the car and heading to the door. Heaving a sigh and plastering on her best fake smile, she knocked on the massive oak door. From inside, she heard her nephew's voice.

"Papa! Nahni's here!" Raleigh smiled at the nickname. She could remember when he was just starting to talk, he could never say Raleigh, it always came out Nahni. The door swung open and Raleigh was tackled at the waist by a little bundle of brown haired energy. Raleigh picked him up, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. She put him down and told him to grab his stuff so that they could leave, but her father spotted her from the top of the stairs.

"Ah! Raleigh dear, how are you? Still driving that little tuner I see," he said snidely. "When are you going to settle down and get a sensible car?"

Raleigh, visibly deflating, gazed at her father indifferently. "Maybe the same day I buy a sensible pair of shoes and marry into money."

"Sarcasm does not become you, Raleigh Cassidy," her father scolded. "Speaking of sarcasm, where's Reilly?"

"She got a new job," Raleigh replied, feeling an inch tall under her elderly fathers gaze. Conner bolted down the stairs with his little backpack and a bag of toys. Warren told the young boy to quit running in the house.

"Dad, he's a kid. He's excited, aren't you Con?"

"Nahni, can we get some Burger King on the way home?" he asked happily, his big brown eyes gleaming.

"Absolutely not," Warren said quickly.

"Well, now we know where your mother gets her health obsession from," Raleigh sighed. "She would kill me little man."

Conner shrugged his shoulders, pretending to be let down. He knew that Raleigh would take him anywhere he wanted to go, damn the consequences. Without saying good bye to her father, Raleigh followed Conner out to the car.

"We'll go to the one with the PlayPlace," She whispered as the boy climbed into the backseat, sneaking her a secret smile.

"Don't let Papa see you smile," Raleigh teased. "You know he's a fun killer."

Conner giggled into his hands as Raleigh slid her seat back and started the car.

"You should turn up the sub woofers," Conner said happily. "Papa hates them."

Raleigh grinned maniacally, and cranking her stereo, said to her nephew, "Oh, I know."
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With a heavy sigh, Reilly stepped out of Jean-Claude's office, wincing as she looked at her wrist watch. Four a.m. Even the hardcore patrons of the popular club had gone back to their safe homes. Jean-Claude and the rest of his vampire ilk had headed back to the circus, to bed down for the day, and the remaining staff were busily locking the place up. All of the chairs were stacked neatly on the tabletops, the place was mopped, and the lights were all dim. With a back-popping stretch, Reilly watched the efficient movement around her, memorizing faces and auras. With a few smiles and friendly nods, she headed out to her car.

The candy apple red looked muted in the harsh orange glow of the nearest street lamp. With an anticipatory smile, Reilly slid into the bucket seat of her '69 Camaro. The feel of the steering wheel under her hands was almost sexual, and she let out a satisfied little groan. She slid off her heels, and tossing them into the back seat, started the huge racing engine, and listened to the purr for a moment. She pushed a cassette into her radio, making yet another mental note to update her sound system, before heading off toward home.

She pulled into the parking lot twenty uneventful minutes later, becoming more and more thrilled as she went up the stairs to the apartment. Opening the door, she stepped into the medium sized living room, to see her sister, and her son passed out on the sofa. The television screen was a uniform blue, meaning they had crashed before the movie had even ended. Two bowls of ice cream soup sat on the coffee table, and Connor's face was a sticky mess. Popcorn littered the sofa and blankets, and Reilly laughed to herself as she imagined the cause of that. She stepped silently to the kitchen, wetting a wash cloth before returning to the scene of the crime. With gentle movements, she wiped down the face and hands of the eight year old, and a few of the transformer toys that had ended up on the floor beside him. He opened his eyes as she was putting the chocolatey bowls in the sink.

"Mamma?" He asked, eyes barely open. Reilly's head snapped up. She hurried around the island and over to the overstuffed sofa.

"Hey, my love," she whispered as she knelt by his face. He reached out to her, a grumpy little noise pushing out of his throat. She grinned, scooping him into her arms.

"You were at work?" He mumbled, wrapping his arms around her neck.

"Mmhmm," she answered quietly, "I got a job in St. Louis to be near you. Goodness you're getting heavy though." She walked slowly down the hall, towards the two bedrooms.

"Grandpapa says you want me to live with you now," he said, sounding hopeful. She freed one hand to stroke his hair before opening her bedroom door. The flimsy drapes were open, casting fluorescent light onto the beige carpet. She tucked the limp little form into her soft white sheets, and moved to the window. Drawing the mini-blinds, and then the decorative drapes over them, the room became a still oasis.

"It's a very complicated situation, my love," she said finally, perching on the edge of the plush mattress.

"You need custody," he said, rolling over to look at her.

"Yes. Yes, I need to get custody of you. As soon as that happens though, we can be a big happy family. Me, you, and Nahni. We both love you so much darling," Reilly said, tucking an errant strand back from his face.

"I love you too, mom," he said in a tone that heavily implied, 'duh!' Reilly hesitated for a second before kissing his upturned cheek.

"Conner," she started, trying to be delicate, "how does Papa treat you? Is he nice?"

"He doesn't hit me, mamma," Conner answered, tucking his still sticky fingers into her hand. Reilly heaved a huge sigh of relief. She sat quietly a few moments longer, until his easy, slow breathing told her that Conner was asleep. She slipped out of the room like a shadow, to find Raleigh sitting up on the sofa.

"Coffee?" Reilly asked, heading toward the kitchen. Raleigh followed, a flannel blanket trailing behind her like a train.

"How did work go?" Raleigh asked, clambering up onto a bar stool. Reilly started scooping coffee beans into the little grinder before answering.

"It was not what I expected. We have a big job here," she answered, pushing the grind button. She dumped the grounds into their mini espresso machine.

"Cappuccino," Raleigh said distractedly to Reilly's questioning look. "So, what's the deal? Damsels in distress? Dragons to slay? Traitorous grand viziers?"

"How many Disney movies did you guys watch?" Reilly asked, turning to look at her sister.

"I lost track after Beauty and the Beast. Aren't boys supposed to want to watch like...Cars?" Raleigh asked, elbows on the counter.

"Did he even bring Cars? I thought that was one of the more juvenile films..." Reilly said distractedly, steaming some milk.

"He's eight Rye. Juvenile is what he does," Raleigh said, laughing.

"He's a sensitive boy. Besides, it's not like you mind. Wasn't Anastasia like your favorite film until you were twenty?"

"All the more reason why I slept with Aleksi," Raleigh muttered mischievously into her mug. Reilly choked into coffee, scalding liquid splattering the counter top. Raleigh cracked up, watching her sister sputter. When she could breathe again, Reilly kept laughing, sending both girls into a giggly fit. Finally they settled down, and Reilly could explain the evening to her sister.

"So," she started, "first off, your so-called mentor is an asshole."
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A few hours after Reilly dished everything she found on her mentor, Raleigh sauntered into work in a tight pencil skirt and a button up blouse that left very little to the imagination. Her heels clicked sexily on the tile floor, making Raleigh feel like a perfect tart. As she passed the lobby full of clients, she turned everyone's head. She smiled politely and head into her office, only to discover Anita Blake sitting in her office chair.

"Well, you look like a tramp," Anita said, surprised.

Raleigh paused and looked at her office door. "That's funny. It says 'R. Gallion' on the door. That's quite a typo."

"I know Jean-Claude hired you and your sister," Anita replied simply.

"And your point happens to be what? We have clients and don't have all day for this."

"I don't appreciate your sister snooping around my files."

"I don't appreciate you sitting in my chair. Leave," Raleigh said, getting defensive. Anita stood up, looking Raleigh in the eyes.

"So help me, if your sister doesn't back off," she said menacingly. Raleigh crossed her arms over her chest and eyed Anita's arm cast.

"You'll what? Beat her to a pulp with your cast?"

"Don't give me any ideas."

"Because God knows you can't get any on your own."

Anita stormed from Raleigh's office and into her own, running into Burt on her way. Raleigh wandered into the waiting room to gather up her first client of the day.

"Okay," Raleigh mumbled, picking up a thick file from the table outside her office. "Mr. Henderson, I can see you now."

Burt rapidly walked towards Raleigh as if he meant to speak with her. Raleigh took note of this and tried to usher Mr. Henderson into her office, but Burt got to her first.

"Raleigh, I..."

"Shut up Burt."

Burt stared at the woman as if she had grown a second head. "Excuse me?"

"I said 'Shut up Burt'. What's unclear about that?"

"What happened between you and Anita? I can't have my two cash cows at each others throats."

"Go away Burt."

Burt tried to walk into the office, but Raleigh stopped him with an open hand to the chest. She stuck one of her long, elegant fingers in his face. She began speaking to him in a very soft, but horribly menacing, voice.

"Burt, you have exactly two seconds to get the fuck out of my office. If you choose not to vacate my presence in this allotted amount of time, I will be forced to staple your eyelids to your forehead and pour salt into your exposed eyes. You need to make a decision...now."

Burt blinked at her a few times before opening his mouth to speak. Raleigh held up a finger.

"Speaking was not an option was it?"

"As soon as your client is gone, you and Anita, in my office," he hissed, walking gracelessly away. Raleigh resisted the petulant urge to stick out her tongue. She turned, and walked into her office, flipping through the file folder as she took her seat.

"Well, this seems like a fairly straightforward case Mr. Henderson, just a contested will, I have an opening Thursday night if-"

"If you will excuse me, Ms. Gallion," said Mr. Henderson. He straightened his tie, and with a slight shifting of his weight, gave Raleigh a level look. Taken aback, she paused, gesturing for him to continue.

"I am not looking to have my father raised. Actually, he's quite happily living in Savannah as we speak. Ms. Gallion, I am here to meet with you on behalf of my employer." A shift in the light changed the man's chocolate-colored eyes to something golden and predatory. A lion sat in front of her, wearing a tasteful Armani suit.

"So, who exactly is your employer? Barnum or Bailey?" Raleigh asked, suddenly wary. She couldn't feel his aura, and the fact that he could shield so completely what he was made the little hairs on the back of Raleigh's neck stand up. This man was seriously powerful. He merely laughed in answer to her question, taking a long black velvet box out of one coat pocket. Placing it on the desk between them, he sat back and looked as non-threatening as possible.

Raleigh reached for the box, and carefully made sure there were no heavy-duty enchantments on or near it. Suspiciously, she raised the lid. Nestled in vibrant silk was a gleaming Fabergé egg. Raleigh's breath went out of her like she had been punched.

"Aleksi sends his regards, Ms. Gallion," said the lion man mildly. Raleigh's heart couldn't maintain a steady beat. She remembered Aleksi, gorgeous Russian, a Romanov, eyes and hair of liquid ebony. Lying, manipulative jackass.

"Mr. Henderson, I have no desire to meet with your employer. I am sorry you've wasted your time," she said slowly, closing the box gently and pushing it towards the lion.

"He acknowledges that, but he must meet with you Ms. Gallion."

"For what reason?"

"He was just admitted onto the Council. Surely, that has something to do with it. I honestly don't know."

Raleigh sighed and cradled her head in her hands. Aleksi was on the Council, wonderful. He wanted to see her, fantastic. There was no way her day could get better. Lion was still sitting in front of her, patient and waiting. He leaned forward and pushed the box back towards her.

"He wants me to tell you that, whether you decide to come or not, he wants you to keep the egg. If you decide to see him, call this number. He will arrange for your transportation."

Raleigh rolled her eyes, taking the box and the business card and placing them in her desk drawer. Mr. Henderson rose from his seat, extending his hand in a business like manner. Raleigh stood and shook his hand.

"Shall I give Aleksi and Mr. Callahan your regards?" Mr. Henderson asked.

"Mr. Callahan?"

"Yes, Micah Callahan. I believe the two of you had lunch together recently."

Raleigh couldn't believe what she was hearing. "They work together?" she asked incredulously.

"No, of course not. I will be seeing Mr. Callahan later tonight when I stop to see another client."

Mr. Henderson turned and left Raleigh's office, leaving her to contemplate the situation she was in. She sighed irritatedly and left her office to go get Anita for the "meeting" in Burt's office. Joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reilly just started dinner when her sister came walking through the front door holding a little black box. She kicked her shoes off at the door and planted a kiss on her nephew's forehead.

"What's in the box?" Conner asked excitedly. "Is it a present for me?"

"Conner," Reilly said warningly. "That's not polite."

"Oh c'mon Rie, he's eight, it's a miracle he says 'excuse me' after he burps," Raleigh directed her attention to her curious nephew. "No honey, it's a present that an old friend gave to me."

"Oh! Can I see it?!" Conner asked.

"When did you get friends?" Reilly teased. She read the look on her sister's face and instantly became curious. "Who is it from?"

Raleigh shuffled into the kitchen and gently placed the box on the counter. "Check this out," she whispered.

She pulled the top off the box and exposed a green egg with intricate gold overlay nestled in a pillow of blue satin. Conner and Reilly both gasped, but for different reasons.

"Wow, that's pretty," Conner whispered.

"Baby, go wash you hands for dinner," Reilly said softly. Conner answered with a sweet 'yes Mama' and ran off to the bathroom. Reilly stared at her sister in disbelief.

"Seriously? He's back in touch with you?"

"Even better," Raleigh mumbled bitterly. "He's here in St. Louis...on the Council."

"What's in the egg?"

Raleigh shrugged. She hadn't thought of opening the egg. Reilly took the egg from it's casing and gently flipped the latch, opening the egg. Inside, there was a fine silver chain with the Romanov family crest hanging from it. Reilly dangled the necklace in front of her sister.

"He held on to it for you," she said.

"Yeah I see that," Raleigh sighed, taking the necklace from her sister. Once again, she remembered Aleksi. She put the necklace back in the egg and took it to her room. When she came back out, Reilly was dressed for work and dinner was almost done. Conner was sitting at the table, his little feet swinging carelessly.

"I've got to go to work. I'll be home early and don't let him fall asleep on the couch with ice cream all over his face."

Conner giggled as Raleigh took over the cooking and Reilly left. Raleigh smirked and winked at him.

"We'll do it all again. Won't we little man?"

"Yeah huh!"