Femme Fatale

By Willow Taylor

 

 

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"It's howling like a werewolf out there." She laughed, brushing flakes of snow off of herself. "But I wanted to get a little water for tea."

"Now that sounds welcome," Victor said, actually smiling at her.

"You know what?" Asher said as she put the pot of snow over the fire. "You have a nice smile Victor. You should do it more often."

"Don't have much of a reason to, usually."

"That's too bad." Asher settled down and yawned, draping one of her travel blankets around her shoulders and leaning against her shoulder-pack. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you a drifter?"

"Well, for the reason I said mostly, if I stayed in one place too long, I'd probably go insane and kill someone." He paused and gave a small half smile. "Or at very least maim them."

"Not a people person?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that, it's just that sometimes I get in moods."

"Yeah me too." The redhead leaned forward and put another log on the fire. "Sometimes I just feel like going out and hunting something big and nasty, just to prove that I'm bigger and nastier." She laughed a little. "If that doesn't sound too odd."

"Hmm," Victor said, running a hand through his hair, and dislodging the last of the ice crystals that had formed during the day's long trek. "No, I guess it doesn't. A little well - "

"Primitive?"

"It sounds like you have something to prove."

"I do," she said simply. "I..." She stopped. "I can't explain it, sorry."

"It's all right. So why are you on the road this time of year?" Victor asked, sitting down, and leaning back against his own pack - which was much smaller than hers.

"Me? Oh, working on some business connections."

"Ah." The discussion drifted away from their lives, and more to things that they'd done. Victor dispassionately recounted a few of the events that had led him to be a supernatural hunter. Asher told him about something she'd pulled when a man had tried to rape her when she was younger. Victor brought out a bottle of something and they began passing it back and forth. After a while, they cuddled together under one blanket to share body heat, and just passed the bottle back and forth in silence.

"I think I may be a widdle drunk."

"Heh. Good thing I didn't bring out the strong stuff."

"I shudder in thought if that wasn't the strong stuff."

"You shudder?" snickered Victor and reached over under the blanket running his fingers up her sides. Asher laughed out loud, a merry, warm sound. "You have a good laugh," he observed. "It matches the rest of you."

"Thank you," Asher said with a smile, resting her warm glowing cheek against his. "You're handsome too, you know. Especially if you smile."

Victor gave her a huge, fake grin.

"Like that?"

"No silly!" she said batting at his unruly hair in a friendly way. Then she tickled him under the armpits to try and enact revenge - and more importantly, to get him to laugh. Nothing happened.

"Silly woman," he said, with his small, knowing, genuine smile. "It's like this." And he ran his fingers up her sides, to tickle her unmercifully in the armpits. Laughter warmed her - and after a while him, much better and in a more lasting way than the booze did.

A bit later, they lay on a bear skin rug that smelled faintly of the cedar it'd been stored in. Victor had found it bundled up in a box in the back of one of the cabin's closets.

"It's kind of odd," he said, pillowing his head on his arms.

"What is?"

"Well this entire cottage isn't more than three rooms, but it has six closets."

"That is kind of odd," Asher said, mimicking his pose and finding it very comfortable. She ran her slender fingers tipped in elegant oval nails through the thick brown fur of the rug. "You know what else is odd? This rug is huge!"

Victor nodded. "Bigger than any bear I've ever seen - and I saw one once that was twice my height."

"Not that that's hard," Asher said wickedly.

"Sure, hit me where I live," Angel chuckled and sat up to pile a few more logs on the fire. The storm raged outside of the cabin with no signs of stopping. The last time they had filled the teapot, drifts were piled up half as high as the roof all around them. Victor didn't mind, it made for good insulation - but he was very glad that the door opened in.

"I'm glad you knew where this cabin was, Asher," he said, settling back down on the rug.

"Hmmm?" she said sleepily, turning from the fire to face him.

"Have you come by here before?"

"Uh... yeah." She yawned. "I usually come by here at least once a year."

"Do you know who built this?"

"Not off hand." Asher snuggled closer to Victor and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Not too sound too forward, but will you sleep with me tonight? It's fucking cold."

"What," said Victor with another one of his small smiles, "I'm going to seek a cold bed, probably away from the fire when there is a lovely little bundle of warmth present who, among other things, has more blankets than I do?" He gave a small laugh. "I don't think so." Asher had to laugh at that.

"Thanks," she said and smiled at him. "I really appreciate you letting me travel with you. I don't usually travel alone."

"No?"

She shook her head. "I had a partner. He got killed... in the avalanche."

"Oh..." A pause. "Just your partner?"

"I was sleeping with him, if that's what you mean," she said without a touch of shame. She reached out and put a hand under Victor's chin, and drew his face forward giving him a sweet tasting kiss.

"That was nice," he said when it ended.

"That's possibly the most mild complement I've had in years," Asher said with a wicked grin. Victor sat up and smiled.

"It'll get mighty cold if we don't get a proper bed made." And he set about doing just that and banking the fire, with such efficiency that Asher had nothing to do.

"Why Angel," she drawled. "I do believe you're a gentleman."

And he turned to face her with a wicked smile and said "Oh, a Gentleman am I?" The dark haired man gathered his traveling companion in his arms, and gave her a kiss in return for the one she'd given him. And it was so passionate it damn near melted the snow outside.

The rest of the night, and quite frankly, the entire storm, was spent quite pleasantly.

The winter woods seemed a little less harsh - hell, Victor felt like whistling - which he didn't. A: Because he'd never been able to hold a tune, and B: because it would have given his position away. The wood was chock full of all sorts of beasties, and a good deal of them were good to eat, and he was tired of journey meat. The storm had let up - his weather eye told him only for a few hours - so he'd snuck into the predawn light to get something to eat. Not that he'd thought that Asher couldn't have - he was just being nice - besides, the woman was... well a bit tired out. Victor smiled to himself, and aimed carefully. The animal in his sights was a bit smaller than a deer - but bigger than a rabbit. Not a half-months worth of food - but a good couple days. Not a bad choice. Now he just had to hope that it wasn't as resilient as the boar it somewhat resembled. The stillness of the woods was broken by a gunshot.

Asher woke up with a sudden start, and looked about for her traveling - and now bed companion. Angel was nowhere to be found. She pulled on her boots, and tucked her shimmering mane of reddish hair under a hat, and opened the door. Sure enough, there were faint traces of his passage. The young woman followed them like a tracker born.

"Nuts!" Victor threw himself to the side, and whirled to fire again. The creature - whatever it was - wasn't as resilient as a boar - it was worse. He fired again, and it charged again. Then as if from nowhere, sprang Asher. She landed on top of the boar, and hooked one arm around its' neck.

"Damnit woman!" spat Victor, and drew his own knife, even as Asher laid a trail of shimmering silver into the beasts side again and again. Victor charged the now distracted proto-boar, and thrust his long knife up through both its jugular, windpipe, and braincase. it collapsed. Asher looked up at him, smoke-grey eyes wild.

"Damnit woman!" he repeated. "You got in my sights - I might have shot you!"

She looked at him, and the blood that coated him and her both - and laughed. And amid blood and snow, they embraced again, in a wild bloody clinch.

Victor's sleep was troubled with dreams. Dreams in which he ran slowly from a fate he couldn't escape - pleading for mercy - and when cornered fighting hopelessly. But it wasn't him. He didn't have dark shaggy fur and nails like ice picks. When the drifter woke up, light was shining faintly through the cracks they hadn't been able to stop up. The storm had passed by. Asher yawned and woke up, looking as though she'd slept like a baby.

"Is the storm over?" she asked muzzily, stretching in a manner that was obviously not intended to be sexy. Victor smiled slightly anyway. Asher didn't have to try - she simply was beautiful and provocative with every way she moved. Not something that any woman Victor had ever seen had been able to do. It was entertaining.

"Yes," he said, pushing black hair out of his eyes and getting dressed. In short order they were both ready to get on the road again.

"Should we take the fur?" Asher asked, holding up the bear rug they'd used for a mattress the last few days. Victor looked at it and thought for a moment. A small pain formed between his eyebrows, and he remembered faintly his dreams - dreams which he'd been having the entire time they were there.

"No," he said slowly. "The next person who has to rest here might not even have as many blankets as we do." Then his small sly smile. "Or as charming company."

Asher laughed again and tucked the fur away in the cedar closet where they'd found it.

The bare branches of the forest reached up like columns beside them, slender grey branches forming a lattice work ceiling against the startling blue of the sky.

"Nice day," Asher said, breath a fog around her face. Victor just nodded and smiled, exhaling smoke from his clove as well as the steamed breath.

"If you like frost bite," he said dryly. "It's very quiet."

"Do you think the animals have gone to cover for another storm?" she asked, tipping her head to one side to listen to the forest.

"Well, no. Part of the quiet is them going calm as we pass by." He purposely crunched a bit of snow-crust under his boot. "It's hard to be silent under there conditions."

"You said part of it?"

"Well, the forest is always quieter in winter, Asher." They crunched their way down the road for a few moments, and heard a bird call in the distance. "If you don't mind my asking - why don't you know this?"

"Hmm?" Asher blinked and turned her grey eyes to look into his.

"Well - it's something most travelers pick up after a while."

"Oh, I never bothered - Brant was the woodsman, I... I worked with people."

"Ahh. That explains it," Victor said with a small smirk. "You're as helpless as a babe in the woods alone." Asher didn't break her pace, but stooped and gathered a handful of snow, which she tossed into Angel's face playfully.

"Arg! Witch!" he laughed, wiping snow away, in time to see her skating over the crust as nimbly as a deer, gaining distance between them down the road. With a short laugh of surprise, Victor clambered onto the crust himself, and began to carefully run after her with footfalls as light as a rabbit's that dinted, but didn't break the surface. It was fast, faster than his normal walking pace and definitely at least as fast as Asher's crust skating technique. She turned back, expecting to see him tromping along quickly behind her, or at best skating along in the same manner she was, and tripped over an outcropping in surprise at his normal looking run that didn't break the snow crust. The redhaired woman landed face first, cracking the crust and getting a face full of snow at least as harsh as what she'd done to him, as well as getting the wind knocked out of her. A moment later, Victor helped her to her feet, normally pale cheeks slightly rosy, and an amused expression on his face.

"The least you could do is be out of breath," she muttered resentfully, swatting snow off of her coat. "After all, you do smoke those cancer sticks."

"Ah," said Victor, lighting a fresh clove and blowing the smoke into her face calmly. "But at least they're good scented cancer sticks."

Asher knocked it out of his hand, and planted a kiss on his mouth that drove the slender man down into the snow.

"And they do make you taste good," she said playfully. "So I guess I'll have to just let it slide."

"I guess you will," Victor said, bemused. Off in the woods, a wolf howled. Asher's head whipped around, hair freed from its hat by her fall, and she looked off into the direction that the howl had come from. Her eyes shone bright with something - a lust for the hunt perhaps.

"Asher?" Victor said, suddenly curious. "Are you a werewolf?" She looked down at him in shock, dark hair sticking slightly to the snow, face almost like a piece of the drift she had him pinned on.

"Me?" She laughed as if it was the silliest thing he'd ever said. "No, I'm human."

"Well if you don't mind getting up now, I'm getting snow down my neck." Asher giggled and kissed his nose. Angel moved his face so the kiss was full lip. After a moment Asher broke it off.

"If you keep that up, you're going to have snow in a lot more uncomfortable places than down your neck."

Another half week of travel brought them too a small town that boasted an inn, even if it wasn't as nice as Everand's Tavern - it was toasty warm, and the bed was reasonably bug free. They decided to stay in he town for 'As long as it takes to thaw,' as Asher put it with a laugh.

"I've got to go check out some old connections I had in this town, Angel," said Asher, pulling her hair back into a tail one morning.

"Connections?" Victor said, raising an eyebrow, then wincing as he attempted to comb his hair. "In this little place?" Asher laughed.

"Yes, you silly man - this town's bigger than it seems. You just stay here, and I'll be back in a few hours, all right?"

"Fine. Got a book I've been meaning to read." So Asher went off on her own, and Victor settled down beside the fire in the common room with a book and a drink.

"Guess who?" said a rough voice, as hands clamped over Victor's eyes.

"If it wasn't you," Angel said dryly. "You wouldn't be this close to me." The vibrant lady draped her arms around his neck and pressed her cold, yet rosy cheek against his.

"Cocky aren't you?" she asked in her normal voice.

"It's not being cocky if it's true," he answered, turning towards her. Any further thought was interrupted by Asher fastening her lips onto his in a passionate kiss. A few moments later, they separated for breath. "Did you find who you were looking for?"

"No." Asher frowned slightly, making a cute little wrinkle between her eyebrows. "They seem to have packed up and left town. I wished they'd left some note or something. I'm not that late."

Victor shrugged and offered her his mug of mulled cider. She perched on his knee and took a deep drink of it.

"Personally," Victor said with a small smile, "I can't picture anyone disappointing you on purpose Asher." She smiled at him, and it made him smile back. "Are you sure you didn't miss them or something?"

Asher shook her head. "They've totally cleaned house - it's as if they were never here."

"Huh," said Victor and scratched the back of his neck. "Fancy that."

As they headed out of town a few days later, one of the women at the marketplace called Victor over.

"Oh please, young sir - don't be goin' out of town that way."

"Why not?" Angel asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"There's a gang of bandits - they've taken over the far pass in that direction and they've been assultin' everyone who goes through. I'd hate ta think what they'd do to your lady friend to boot."

Victor glanced over his shoulder at Asher, who was making sure her reddish hair was all tucked under her stocking cap, and that her scarf was firmly wrapped around her neck.

"Well, we'll keep that under advisement, young lady," he said with a small smile, lighting a clove. "But perhaps your bandits would let us be, if they know what's good for them."

The young business woman gave him a strange, confused look, but shook her head hopelessly as he kissed her hand, and nodded to Asher that he was ready to go.

"What did she want Angel-luv?" Asher asked after a while of silent walking.

"Just wanted to warn me about some bandits that'd been giving some people a bit of a hard time on their commute," he replied, cracking his neck. "I don't think they'll be a problem." Asher half smiled but hid it. Victor's coat was partly undone - and she could tell that was so he could get to his gun quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," the dark haired man said blowing a cloud of smoke. "No problem."

It was easy to tell where the pass was. The forest on either side of the road kept getting steeper and steeper, until the road was the only reasonable path to take. Victor slowed down his steady amble to a slow stroll, as if enjoying the day.

"Angel, what are you doing?" Asher asked at last, stopping, putting her hands on her hips and facing him.

"Whatever do you mean?" he returned innocently.

"I've never seen you walk so slow. You want to encounter the bandits, don't you?"

"Who me?" he said with an unusually engaging smile, pointing at himself. "With a face like this?"

"Let's give the pretty boy what he wants then." Victor's head whipped one way in surprise, and Asher's in another, as bandits - bandits with claws and fangs - burst out of the snow on either side of them. There were at least twenty of them.

"What are they?" Asher asked in shock, pressing back against her travel companion in surprise.

"Shadowdancers," Victor said, a small thin smile dancing on his face, as the ragged, pale and dark haired creatures ringed them.

"What sort of monster is that?" demanded Asher.

"We aren't monsters, pretty," said one of them "We're just misunderstood is all. You want to try and tame me?"

"They're one of the Benoseyed races Asher, you've heard of them right...?" Victor put his hands in his armpits as if they were cold.

"Yeah but I didn't think they'd look so... barbaric..."

"Don't worry," he said. "I said they wouldn't be a problem..."

"Hey little boy..." said one of the Shadowdancers ringing them. "How 'bout giving us your pack - "

"I think he wants to fight, Slug."

"Really Luger?" said one of the others hopefully. "I havenšt had a good fight in ages."

"Well little human, what you got up your sleeve?" demanded another.

"Up my sleeve?" Angel said with a thin smile, putting out his clove, and tucking it into his pocket. "Nothing." He exploded into a blur of motion - and Asher was only a half second behind him, lashing out at the nearest bandit and tackling him. Gunfire echoed off the hillsides, and blood stained the snow in brilliant splashes of red and blue.

"Angel!" yelped Asher. He turned quickly in time to see a handful of dancers escape into the forest. "If they get away we'll never see the last of the bastards!"

"Then we can't let them get away!" Coattails flapping out behind him, Victor streaked into the woods, with his partner only moments behind him.

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