The greatest force of unity is love; the greatest force of division also, is love.
-Anon.
Several miles (and hours away)
Denise Cho, Honored Daughter of the Psychic Society and Candidate to succeed their chair on the council of the Six woke up at 04:00 EST with a splitting headache; the type that could split walnuts.
She swore sharply under her breath. Headaches annoyed the hell out of her. One would think that a Master of both halves of the Psychic path should be able to shrug off headaches.
She lay awake for a minute, looking up at the ceiling and gathering her thoughts. The space in the bed beside her was empty. She felt alone. The space felt like a form of tactile silence.
Denise had still kept to her side of the bed, even though Bill was in Washington State, consulting on a case. They had only been living together for about a month now. She missed his presence. She missed him.
She rolled over onto his side of the bed and buried her head in his pillow, inhaling deeply. The sharp musky scent of his cologne still lingered. Old Spice Classic, just like man himself: a classic boy scout.
He had taken things oh so slowly. But when he had come around... Her core tightened with the memories. Familiar warmth started to smolder in her belly.
The door creaks open and a tiny face peeks in. Denise sits up flustered, her face slightly flushed and turns towards the figure standing shyly in the door way. The golden blonde haired cherub standing there looks up hopefully, eyes endearingly wide.
"Morgan darling, did you have nightmares again?"
The tot only nodded in reply.
"Would you like to sit beside me for a while?"
Another nod.
"Come on then."
With a most adorable grin the child skipped to, and then clambered onto the bed.
Denise Cho's heart broke a little as Morgan snuggled into her. Bill had looked into her. All her legally mandated Guardians were dead: Her parents; her only uncle and his wife; and the foster couple that had taken her in three months ago.
In each case the case files from the attacks listed similar horrors: exsanguination, mutilation and dismemberment. It was a wonder that the child was still alive. When questioned, all she would say was that "Bunny came. Bunny didn't let the bad thing get me."
They were no closer to finding out who or what Bunny was. The mysteries surrounding the girl were numerous. Whoever Bunny was, he or she had left a lasting impression. The child was obsessed with rabbits and bunnies. Lucky charms, Bugs Bunny, Peter Rabbit... the list went on.
Carlos and the girl Magus, Temi, had helped read through files. "No," She corrected herself; the Magi had helped. And if she was right, the strawberry blond teen that was hiding out under her roof was now one as well.
Her heart thudded a little louder for a second when she recalled the impromptu visit of the Magus known as Longinus. The news he had shared with her, with Bill hovering protectively, was chilling.
She grinned as Morgan pulled her Tablet from the bed stand. "Can we read a story?" "Of course dear. Which one?" The kid gave several quick taps, and opened... "Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby" of course!
***
Denise was toweling her hair dry before using the blow dryer when her phone buzzed from underneath her pillow. Excited, she wrapped the towel around her damp hair sloppily and put on her Bluetooth earpiece.
The voice on the other side was a comforting baritone rumble. "Hey," He said, "I figured you'd be up. How is your beautiful self?"
She smiled girlishly, and supressed the urge to giggle. "It's around 5am over here Bill, where are you calling from. Wait, you're on the road aren't you?"
"I can't get any thing past you can I?" He chuckled, "don't even tell me how you figured it out. I'd better not mess around with any... 'floozies' then should I? You'd probably find out"
Bill Fontaine had taken the knowledge of the Societies and her 'special skills' very well. Better than she had thought he would. His acceptance even included several remarkable skills of her Path that had the potential to... complicate their relationship.
"I'd tell you her name before you even met her buster. Don't even think about it!"
She slipped out of her robe, walked over the dresser and slipped on a pair of rather boring cotton underpants then pulled out a plain white seamless bra.
"So...what are you wearing?" He rumbled softly.
"Bill!" She exclaims, in mock outrage "Aren't you with people?"
"Nope, we're at a stop, the boys have gone in to get snacks. It's just me and you."
She pauses, and looks at her reflection in the mirror appraisingly.
After a swift glance towards the softly snoring child she murmurs softly "I was just dressing up actually. I'm only wearing my underpants right now, the dark red lace ones you like."
He is silent for a moment before he speaks up, in a husky rumble "That is a mental picture worth a thousand dollars."
She frowns and mockingly taunts "Just a thousand dollars. Bill Fontaine, I would think I was worth more!"
He chuckles. "Well I hope I can pay with plastic, at this rate you'll drive me bankrupt."
He switches the topic suddenly, "Before the guys get back love, I have some information your people may want to know. There've been attacks and sightings of you know what. I can't see a pattern yet, but I'm sure there should be one. The files are sensitive, but I'm sure we can work on it when I get home."
She continues to dress, slightly disappointed that he had to turn the conversation to more mundane matters.
"Our contacts in law enforcement have reported similar, yes. I'm sure the big picture will help us figure out if there is a pattern though. Like you said, I feel that It is slightly more intelligent that we've been led to believe."
He grunts in agreement, the fellows were probably back, and shifts the topic again. "How are the kids?"
She grimaces ruefully. "A handful, as usual. Temi has conscripted the other two as her willing minions. I'm actually glad she had to be in New York for the past few days. Looking into some dance studios."
She had had no clue that the teen was a talented dancer. A quick call to her shrink, Comfort Adegbite had confirmed that Temi had trained intensively in Ballet and Contemporary dance.
It turned out that the only thing she had focused on continuously and relentlessly was classical dance. In most other things she gave only half an effort, content to sail through in final papers using her rather unique and innate talents.
"The younger one can't leave the house,"
She was wary of referring to August Gaines by name even over the phone.
"She's indulged herself in more than a dozen home improvement projects since you left. Temi says she should be able to grasp how to use Glamours and Mesmers soon. Hope she'll be able to get out of the house soon, she's too much of a shut in."
She glanced at Morgan and smiled unselfconsciously, "And the youngest, she's asleep in our bed right now. She still has nightmares. She hasn't added any... 'pieces' since you left though."
He chuckles and sighs. "We're only living together and we're already parents. Things have changed a lot since I met the... well, you know who."
"The Fae" she completed silently, the child who led the most politically powerful of the Societies. The Fae was the same child who, somehow, had thought it worthwhile to pull an unwitting Bill Fontaine into the world behind the logic veil.
It was a mixed blessing, the Fae had rid him of some his... stubbornness. The fool had actually thought he was too old for her! But the world behind the veil, it was extremely dangerous - death wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
She glances at the bedside clock and pouts slightly; time had taken a leap forward without her notice.
"What do we do about the younger one?" Fontaine continues, the clipped tone of his acquired pronunciation accent precisely enunciating consonants and rounding vowels.
"Nothing, for now. It's too dangerous to speak of over an international call. I'm working on contacting my boss through more conventional means."
They had already discussed the situation. An international call was of course code for a stepped far sending via two or three intermediaries in order to get to her 'boss', The Oracle.
Even though a stepped far sending would be far more secure than a going though the Network, it wasn't waterproof. Any of those intermediaries could pass on, or let slip the information relayed.
She had had to use more primitive methods, a letter, glamored by Temi so that its true message would be visible only the Thought Father. As an extra precaution, the hidden message had also been coded. To any one else, the standard ruled paper contained an innocuous penned message.
There was more to August's situation. The Talisman Magus, Longinus, had revealed - in a conversation quite thoroughly lacking in details - that the girl must remain hidden to preserve her life.
She didn't even want to begin to think about how Longinus knew where to find Temi, one of the few Magi who could mask her thought signature.
It didn't matter that Longinus was actually Janus Martin Gaines, the firstborn of the rather large Gaines brood, and August's brother. His 'track record' was a rather colorful one, and that color was blood red.
She sighed, "It's disconcerting. Being this close to them is very different from what I was taught growing up. I don't like to sound prejudiced but..."
He stops her before she begins to ramble, "I understand".
The best part of being with Bill, he made her feel free. She could let him see the real her, not the carefully unruffled mask of a 3rd Society Candidate. It was just how he was. He felt safe.
"Can't wait till you get back." She murmurs.
A tiny little bit of her rails at the weakness of the statement as she says it. There was no helping the truth, however.
"Neither can I," he responds, but now his voice sounds a bit distant, distracted. "Have to go, talk later love. Bye"
"Bye." She feels slightly bummed. The man could stand to be bit more expressive.
She sighs softly and walks over to bedside to pick up the phone from underneath the pillow. She perches on the bed and flicks idly through new mail and notifications for a minute.
Unwrapping the towel, she feels her hair with one hand and decides that at this point the blow dryer isn't really necessary. She leaves the room after untangling her mess of dark hair with a comb.
Downstairs in the kitchen, August, the second youngest of the triad of Magi living in the house was already up and making breakfast. That is, in the most indirect sense.
August Amanda Gaines sat perched on pale wooden IKEA stool like a decrepit cockatoo, nose buried in a glamored book. Hints of amber shone in her messy blonde hair and the light constellation of freckles that were dusted across the bridge of her nose rearranged themselves as she wrinkled her nose over something she probably didn't agree with.
A bowl of Muesli sat unfinished on the counter before her, already visibly soggy. An odd array of ingredients was arrayed around the forgotten white and green ceramic bowl.
Whilst the Magus read, breakfast made itself - with the help of a few potted plants on the windowsill. Denise stood still for a minute, slightly awestruck, and took in the scene.
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