Deanna dreamed…

Running. So fast my feet seem to skim the forest floor. My line of sight is illuminated by the light of the moon, but the silvery glow isn’t necessary for me to see. My vision perfectly adjusts to the dark. Trees whirl by me as I move, silent and swift, the predator that I am. I weave my form easily around them, slipping into the shadows as I hunt.

The air is damp upon my skin, and a mist begins to form giving the forest an almost haunted appearance. I can smell the musty scent of rotting leaves, woodsy and musky earthen scents of animal and plant life around me. I turn my head slightly to the left and there he is in the distance, my mate. We are on the hunt.

There is only a slight pause in his actions as he changes direction, something leading him elsewhere. As he turns suddenly, he waves to me to continue on the path I was following. I know I am getting closer to our prey. It won’t be long now before he is mine. I smile to myself as my intended victim’s movements grow closer. I can hear twigs snapping, branches breaking as he crashes through them. He is fast, agile, easily capable to try to evade me.

Somehow though, I am faster, and we have an advantage for there are two of us. My mate is drawing him out, forcing him to flee into my line of sight. Almost there. A beat of twenty, ten, then with a growl, a snarl of triumph I leaps into the air, my arms outreached with obsidian claws extended. I leap onto my prey’s back, my weight forcing us to tumble to the ground. Together we attack each other in one graceful fluid movement, a dance of warriors battling for survival, but tonight, only I intend to be victorious. This is the moment I have been waiting for. I will not fail.

He continues to fight me as I bring him down. We roll around on the grassy carpet, fists flying, teeth bared, jaws snapping. Cries of pain, snarling howls, the sounds of bones crunching accompanied by tearing flesh echo in the woods, sending whatever birds and woodland creatures foolish enough to lurk nearby scampering in fear. What seems like hours ends in mere minutes. It is finally over as my claws manage to find their way into flesh, sinking into warm blood. My opponent lets out a grunt of pain and then lies still.

My chest heaves as I pant, gulping deep breaths of air to steady my frantically beating heart. Blood covers me from head to toe, congealing in my hair, dripping from my clawed curved hands. My eyes glow with inhuman light, a sense of euphoria as I turn to where I can sense my mate approaching from the darkness, hidden in the shadows of trees where he remains. Watching. I can feel his elation now that our enemy is a ruined waste at my feet.

Bathed in moonlight, I gather myself long enough to regard the corpse at my feet. The mists shroud his body and it is hard to focus my well trained eyes to see clearly. His face appears mangled, barely recognizable as I have torn it to shreds. His form is contorted as I have smashed bones to bits and torn his limbs from his body. This is it, my greatest achievement in my new life, yet why do I not feel the triumph that should have followed. Something is so very wrong here.

“Do you see now? You had to destroy what was holding you back.”

I turn sharply at the whispered words of my mate, but he is no longer with me.

“This is who you are, Deanna. This is who you were meant to be.”

I frown in confusion, shaking my head as finally the cobwebs clear from my vision and the mists rise. Only then does the lifeless form below me full take shape and form. I scream then, my eyes becoming impossibly wide in their sockets as I realize the full extent of the horror that awaits me. It is not possible, this most grievous mistake that I have committed.

I have destroyed my heart.

Then he laughs, he who is not my mate, a deep bellowing sound that is cloaked in darkness. The sound of his victory crawls over my skin and he feeds upon my terror, grief and shame. His laughter continues as I lower my gaze to regard the lifeless form of he who was my everything. Bonelessly, I drop to my knees. The once prominent laughter dies as I now alone in my grief, lingering only in my mind to haunt me as I clutch my beloved’s body to my chest, his signature crimson cloak billowing around us. I throw my head back and let out a blood curling scream…


Deanna’s eyes open and her body is propelled upward in the darkness in a panic. Sweat covers her body as she clutches the blankets around her in a death-like grip, and it is all she can muster to swallow the shriek that builds in her throat, begging her release. Her heart, which threatened to explode from her chest, is being forced to slow it’s beat as she wills calm upon herself.

For a moment she was disoriented, the fog in her brain hadn’t quite lifted and the nightmare that she had woken terrified from still lingered. When she had finally stopped shaking she looked around the dimly lit room to discover that she was in her own room at the tavern in her own bed. Faint shimmers of light peeked through the shutters of her window indicating that morning was breaking. She sat there amid rumpled bed linens in a state of bewilderment.

The last she recalled was her encounter with the strange one known as Verial, the one who attempted to assassinate her in the woods, apparent friend and comrade to the Redmont Lord, Maxim. Deanna rubbed bare arms as she shivered, partly from cold, partly from the ominous dream she had involving her vampire love. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and dragged herself from the warmth of her bed. Thought the temperature wasn’t even remotely warm, she opened the shutters to let light into the room, her breath foggy against the chill.

She wrapped the quilt around her naked form, her lack of night time apparel another puzzlement to her, and gathered warm clothes as she prepared to bathe and dress for the day. She had filled a basin with water and was about to sponge herself clean when she noticed the dried blood flaking in brown patches on her chest and stomach. Her hand shook as it froze in mid action and she made her way over to the mirror that hung upon the wall. If possible, Deanna’s face seemed paler than usual as she stared at her appearance.

Had she hunted last night? Was that the reason for the blood? As she wiped the last traces from her body, Deanna frowned as she fought to fill in the large gaps in her memory. She went over the conversation about Verial’s attack by a werewolf. A Bluefield, perhaps? She recalled the hunger and exhaustion she felt, but strangely, nothing after. Was it possible that she had hunted and returned to the Boar to rest and simply forgotten? Nothing made sense.

Frustrated with her own shortcomings, Deanna finished washing and dressed warmly for the day. Autumn was here, the last vestiges of summer were long gone. Nature was preparing itself for the long winter to come. She donned a woolen tunic and pants, stuffed her socked feet into boots and thought about Mal. She planned on having a little heart to heart with her employer. It was time for Deanna to leave his services, for in truth, she feared for the surly tavern owner’s safety from the Bluefields, as well as herself.

She had just finished plaiting her hair when she heard footsteps outside her door. Turning the knob, she poked her head outside and came face to face not with Mal, but with old Bean, his eyes reddened and watery from either booze or tears. Her brows raised, she stood in her doorway facing the elderly drunk. Mal took pity upon the old man, and from time to time, would have Bean help him with minor jobs around the tavern. “Bean? What are you doing here so early? The tavern isn’t open yet, you know that. Did Mal send you to wake me?”

The scrawny man’s stooped shoulders seemed to sag even further, and Deanna saw that his hands were shaking. Bean offered Deanna a shake of his head in what appeared to be sympathy. “Miss De? You haven’t heard yet, have ya?” The older man sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “I hate to havta tell ya this, but they found Mal. They found him, Miss De, in the woods.”

"Wait, what? What are you talking about?" She must have looked as dumbfounded as she felt for the old man placed a bony hand on her shoulder, his voice shaking with sobs.

“They kilt him Miss De! Tore him to pieces! It was the monsters in the woods that done kill Mal!”

She slumped on the barstool next to Bean, a hollowed shell as she listened to the tale the old man told. She had poured two glasses of whatever brown liquid was in a bottle hidden behind the bar, stuff Mal only drank on special occasions. The liquor was strong and foul smelling, burning as it hit the tongue and slid down the throat, but most welcomed, especially for the badly shaken Bean.

The retelling was painstakingly long, but from what Deanna gathered, Mal was found sometime at dawn. Hunters, Bean had said. They had noticed something large slumped against an old oak’s trunk and had approached cautiously, thinking it was a wounded animal. What they found was far worse.

Whatever it had been, some were calling it a bear attack, others insisted it was one of ‘those shape shifting beasties that should have all been destroyed anyway’ creatures, it had done a thorough vicious job on the burly tavern owner. His face was damned near mauled in half, deep clawed grooves decorated the left side of his face, completely obliterating his eye and most of his nose. That wasn’t even the worst part. Mal had been gutted from groin to breastbone, his entrails, or what was left of them, had spilled onto the forest floor, a puddle of foul smelling mess that pooled by his shoeless feet. Whatever had done this to him, and Deanna was positive it wasn’t a bear or any other natural animal, had draped his corpse between two thick tree branches to support his husk.

It was if he was meant to be found.

Deanna listened to Bean’s ramblings in silence, from time to time she would refill their glasses until the bottle was half empty. Alcohol, though rarely drunk by Deanna, had zero affect on her. It was simply absorbed into her system and metabolized far too quickly for her body to process it. An act simply meant to ease the pain of the loss she felt. Her eyes were wet with tears by the time Bean finished his sad tale, the old man’s eyes red with tears and the affects of the alcohol. At least his hands had stopped their shaking, a small mercy in a time where mercy seemed lacking.

“What I dun understand Miss De, is what Mal was doin’ out in tha woods in tha first place,” the drunken elder slurred as he clanked his empty glass on the bar top, a gesture for Deanna to refill his glass which she did without hesitation. “Mal wasn’t one to hunt, ya hear me? Folks say sump thin’ caused him t’go out in tha woods, mebbe he saw sumthin’ that seemed wrong t’him.” Bean shook his head as he cradled the glass that contained the dark amber liquid, his lifeline. “Was out checkin’ on tha traps, y’know, mebbe find I caught me a rabbit or possum. That’s when I saw ‘em, Miss De. The Wilson boys that live down near tha creek, y’know? They come in the tavern from time t’time.” Bean ceased his prattling then, his rheumy eyes resting on Deanna.

She remained silent, her gaze lowering to focus on the empty glass that she twirled in her hands. She decided to give Bean the opportunity to say what was on his alcohol soaked mind. After a fashion, the older man finally spoke, slowly but with surprising clarity. “I don’t think it was a bear who did that to Mal, Miss De. Not in my bones, and I don’t think it was them vampires either. I heard about vampires and they don’t do to people what was done to Mal. They jus’ drink the blood, y’know?” Bean firmly nodded, an expert on vampires was he. Deanna couldn’t help but sigh, if only the old fool knew the truth, but she kept such comments to herself.

“What do you believe did that to Mal then?” The question was asked in a hushed tone for she didn’t want to frighten Bean away. She needed to hear his answer, his truth. The wizened figure of a man shook his head slowly. “I know it was them shifters Miss De. I know it.” He lowered his gaze from Deanna, his hands trembling again as he bravely continued on. “I heard rumors Miss De. People talk. They say…,” the older man’s voice shook as spit the words out hurriedly. “They say you’s one of them. One of them shifters. They saw you Miss De! In the city! They saw you and some other fellers. Fellers that waren’t human! One of ‘em was a vampire, they says!” Bean finally looked at Deanna, fresh tears in his eyes.

“It ain’t true is it, Miss De? You ain’t one of them filthy murderin’ creatures, are ya?”

A perfectly reasonable question to ask, just how to answer? She could tell him the truth, but honestly, she was afraid that the truth would stop old Bean’s heart. It was bad enough she was unsure if it were she who caused Mal’s death, but she would be damned in taking responsibility in killing Bean too. “It doesn’t matter what I am, Bean. I would never hurt Mal.” Not consciously at least, she thought.

Bean peered at her over the rim of his glass suspiciously, but after a while, he seemed satisfied, if not wary, with her answer. “I believe ya, Miss De. Mal always liked ya, said you was a good girl, but a bit odd, and with lots of troubles. That’s what he said Miss De.” Bean drained the last of his drink and looked wistfully at the now empty bottle. “He was a good man, Miss De…and now…now he’s gone.” The weak man’s shoulder’s shook as he suppressed his urge to sob.

Did Mal know? It seemed likely, but there was no way to know for sure, not now. Mal was dead and there was no way to bring him back. There were other matters at hand to think about. The first being this possible Bluefield. It was likely that he had come here to the tavern after catching scent of Maxim, or (and this thought horrified her) he was looking for her, not particularly because of who she was to him, but of her relationship with Maxim. It would make sense, she thought, if the Bluefield hadn’t found Deanna present, but the unexpected Mal. Poor Mal, a victim of circumstance.

There was also Maxim and Quinn to consider. If the common humans even had the smallest suspicion of Deanna’s possible involvement in the death of their beloved tavern owner, then any whom she was involved with would be at risk. Not that Maxim, Quinn and even the strange Verial couldn’t handle a few humans, but an angry mob was a completely different story, one that she wanted no part to play in. No, matters were delicate and had to be settled quickly, but that meant warning the trio of males as soon as possible. Deanna knew it was time to pack her belongings and go, but where? This was her home, albeit temporary. Sadness washed over her at the thought of never hearing Mal’s voice fuss over her or bark orders at her again. He would be missed, and avenged.

Though grief stricken, Deanna put on a brave face as she placed a gentle hand upon Bean’s withered one, her voice strong and firm as she spoke. “Whatever is happening to these people, I promise Bean I’ll do whatever I can to stop it.” And that was that. She slid from her barstool and hastily threw whatever belongings she still had into a small leather satchel. She slipped on her cloak and drew the hood over her head. It would take some time before Deanna would make it to the city, especially if she kept to the woods, remaining off the main roads.

They stood outside the Boar in the sunlight, one last farewell at the place Deanna called her home for the past few months. She gently cupped Bean’s face in her hands and placed the gentlest of kisses on his forehead. “Take care of yourself, alright?” She smiled at the local drunk fondly before turning away to head into the woods. “Miss De!” Bean called out to her, his toothless mouth upturned into a weak smile. “You be careful now, hear me? Dun’t care how different y’are, still my favorite bar lady!”

Deanna acknowledged him with a small wave before disappearing into the forest thicket. All senses alert, she had to be careful, for they would come looking for her, no doubt. There would be no stopping to hunt, nor to rest, not until she made it to the city. Not until she found Maxim and Quinn, and perhaps even Verial.

Her nostrils flared and the scent of blood, recent and fresh caught her senses. Mal. She would not cry, not now, only when she knew it was safe would she grieve properly for her friend.

Alone, her heart aching not only for her lost friend, but for the vampire she loved, she set off to the city, a silent prayer offered to any gods who were listening.

After her conversation with Quinn that afternoon, Deanna retreated to her room needing alone time. Time to think, to sort, to plan. Solitude never bothered Deanna, for oftentimes, she found her own company easier to bear than when surrounded by others, even someone as easy going as Quinn.

It was a bit strange residing in Quinn’s late mother’s room, but she wasn’t about to complain about her accommodations. The room wasn’t expansive, but held a bed, wardrobe and a small vanity comfortably. She sat down on the worn stool near the vanity and began to brush her long auburn hair. Her hair, though lovely to look at, was a pain for it managed to tangle no matter what she did to it. So she sat here, dragging a brush through the snarls and knots, which surprisingly was means to comfort her.

She stared at herself in the mirror, not particularly liking what she saw. The dark circles under her eyes gave her a bruised like appearance, and Deanna noticed with dismay small fine lines that decorated the corners. Worry lines, her mother would have called them. There was a tightness around her mouth, most likely from frowning or scowling, and her jaw recently began to ache her on occasion, most definitely due to clenching her teeth. All of this stress she was enduring was being to take its toll on her physically.

In her annoyance, the brush slipped from her hand and fell against her foot. She bent to pick it up and as she straightened, the image in the mirror began to change, to waver. Deanna sucked in a sharp breath as the reflection that appeared was not of herself as she was now, but of her bestial form. Horrorstruck, she brought a hand to the mirror, fingertips brushing against the glass, her bestial image mirroring her every move.

I’ve finally lost my mind.

Stupefied, Deanna continued gesturing to her image, her bestial form mimicking her actions until finally something strange happened which solidified Deanna’s opinion that she was mentally unstable. The Deanna-beast shook her head at her human counterpart and spoke.

“Are you done yet with this foolishness? We need to have a little heart to heart.”

Deanna yelped, brining her hands to cover her mouth quickly incase Quinn was still outside in the sitting area. It wouldn’t do to have her new roommate question her sanity, or rather, lack thereof.

“Impossible. This isn’t real. I’m just delusional. It’s the stress, the stress is causing me to hallucinate,” she whispered as once more, she reached out with a trembling hand to touch the image that was now scowling at her. Her fingertips brushed the hard surface, yet the likeness didn’t mimic her.

You’re not crazy, well not completely. Alright maybe you are, but this isn’t the time to debate that. We really do need to talk.

Deanna slumped against upon the stool in defeat. Well, if she was losing her mind, she might as well hear what pearls of wisdom her animalistic side had to offer. “Alright,” she resigned, lowering her voice an octave. “I’m listening.”

Her twisted reflection smiled then, exposing razor sharp fangs crowding her mouth. “Wonderful! I finally have your attention.” Her beast sobered then, growing serious as she leaned forward in the mirror. “I think it’s time I shed some light on a few sobering truths, and I hope this time you finally listen to me because quite frankly,” her beast’s features changed then, hardening with unmistakable anger. “I’ve grown tired of your bullshit. It’s time you stepped back and let me take charge.”

Deanna sat there mesmerized as her bestial image began to speak to her.

“First things first, I am not a martyr nor am I a doormat, and by ‘I’, I mean ‘you’, us.” Apparently, her beast had spent much time contemplating all the problems in the life of her human counterpart and disgusted, decided to bring them to Deanna’s attention with the intent of fixing her shortcomings once and for all.

“You are suffocating me with this guilt you’re harboring, not to mention this idiotic notion that it is YOUR job to keep those in your company safe. Wake up sister! YOU are a predator! YOU are at the top of the food chain above these walking monkeys! YOU are NOT a babysitter, not to the humans nor the freak show you chose to hang out with. Nor are you responsible for any idiots that you have to have to take out in order to keep yourself safe. It’s called self-preservation woman! That’s what WE do! Survive!” As she berated Deanna, her beast would slam her clawed hand down on the mirror image vanity’s wooden top for emphasis.

Deanna opened her mouth to protest, when, with a sharp wave of hand, her beast cut her off before she could so much as utter a word. “Shut up. You had your chance to live this life the right way. Now it’s my turn. You just sit there and act pretty while I educate you in the school of life.”

Her beast regarded her with a scathing look. “So worried about these beings you care about? Don’t want them to get hurt because of you, is that it?’ Sarcasm dripped from each word as her beast continued on, not particularly caring how her words affected her human half.

“Ok fine, let’s start.” Her beast held up one hairy hand, ticking off each person with her fingers as she named them. “Let’s start with the recent one shall we? That little pipsqueak in the clothing store. You think it was coincidence those dolts in the hoods came into the shop while you were in there? If you do, then you’re an idiot. Those rejects were after your new bestie, human, make no mistake about that. Think about it, those losers obviously didn’t even realize that you could have torn all of their heads off without batting a lash before continuing shopping like nothing happened. They didn’t even KNOW which of you two to grab! So because of some tiny terror human, YOU end up dragged into a mess that had NOTHING to do with you, and as a result had to kill another useless human who was screaming for more useless humans to come to KILL YOU, which by the way, I approved. Nicely done.” Her beast nodded, smiling rather smugly at Deanna.

“It was an accident,” Deanna whispered, her voice laced with regret. “I didn’t mean to do that to her. I shouldn’t have done that to her. She was just scared, she didn’t deserve it.”

“NO?” Her beast scoffed. “Sell that shit to someone else, woman. It was an accident that you purposely left the angry squirrel girl when you had the perfect opportunity to flee, strode into the store, yelled at her and then snapped her chicken neck?” A snort was heard before the tongue lashing continued. “You sure as fuck meant that! And why not? Did she give a damn that you were attacked, provoked into defending yourself? Hell no! All she cared about was calling in men with large clubs and sharp pointy objects to beat your stupid skull into a bloody mess of brain and bone.” Her beast shook her head again in disgust. “You truly are a fucking moron.”


Deanna’s shoulders stiffened, for she knew her beast was right. “Alright, I’ll concede that you have a point, but if Maxim has any chance in finding the werewolf that attacked Verial, then I..."

Once again, her beast cut her off in mid-sentence. “Which brings me to the next problem on my list. Maxim Fucking Redmont.” His name was coated in venomous hatred, for her beast had absolutely no love for the vampire. “I swear if you go into that ‘he loves me’ crap, I will force you to smash this mirror and slit your own throat. I’d rather bleed to death than continue this absurdity he has somehow convinced you of, and sweetheart,” her beast smiled coldly. “I promise you, once you consider what I’m about to say, you’ll realize how you’ve been wasting your life in love with an egotistical, maniacal bastard."

Deanna sat so very still, barely breathing as her beast continued on, with great relish, she noted.

“If you can tell me of one instance your ‘precious’ Maxim has ever said or done something strictly because he gave a shit about you, and not for any ulterior motives having to do with him, and they always do, then I’ll shut up right now and won’t say another word about it.” Her beast folded her arms, knowing victory was hers when Deanna remained silent, her rigid posture indicating she couldn’t think of anything to contradict what her bestial counterpart was saying.

“I thought not. Think about it Deanna,” With that, Deanna’s brows rose, for hardly ever did her beast call her by her given name, usually referring to her human half with some insulting slur. “Forget the past events, though really, who can? Let’s start with the more recent. Like when that scaly fuck Verial shot you with a SILVER TIPPED ARROW FOR NO FUCKING REASON AT ALL, save for the fact he assumed you were someone else. So it turns out that your beloved vampire is buddies with that psycho, and what exactly does he do when he mysteriously shows up into this little scene? NOTHING! That’s what he did! NOT A FUCKING THING! Think about it! His fucked up friend nearly kills the so-called love of his life, and not only doesn’t he beat the living shit out of Verial for his assassination attempt, but then he SCOFFS your injury as if it were nothing! AND YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH THIS GUY??? Who’s never around, by the way, in case you haven’t noticed, and I know you have. Let me repeat that, NEVER AROUND when you need him. Let’s not even touch on the issues that his family, enemies, and friends have all tried to kill you on several occasions. Oh yes, he’s a prince of a guy, excuse me, vampire. I can see why you’ve basically given up your life to be his bitch.”

Enraged, Deanna’s slender form began to shake violently, her hazel orbs bleeding to a vibrant amber. Her features slowly began to change, to become feral. Obsidian claws sprouted from where her digits ended and as she grasped the vanity table, those deadly claws dug into the wood, leaving deep gouges. “Shut up!” she hissed, her lips drawing back to reveal elongated canines. It was then that she revealed herself as the image in the mirror, and the horrifying truths that she had been denying for so long finally came to surface the moment her true nature did. Maxim Redmont cared only about Maxim Redmont. No one else. Every move he ever made in his life was carefully calculated to suit his purposes. Anyone in his life that he claimed to care about was expendable. No one was spared, not even her. Why had she been so blind to see it?

Her image wavered again. Her own human face was staring back at her, for with stunning revelations, came acceptance. Deanna reached up to touch her face with a very human like hand, relief flooding her. For a moment, she thought she had finally succumbed to her inner animal, losing her humanity forever.

“The truth hurts, Deanna, but it can also set you free, if you are willing to believe in it.” Deanna groaned as obviously the madness wasn’t finished claiming her yet, her reflection still taking a life of its own.

Her gaze shifting from the closed door back again to the mirror, Deanna spoke once more to herself. “What about Quinn? Tell me I didn’t make another mistake in trusting him.” Her eyes pleaded with her other half, not knowing if she could handle another crushing blow.

Her beast in human form shrugged her shoulders. “He is a Redmont by blood, human. Never forget that. Despite the fact he may loathe the Redmont clan, he is still one of them. Besides,” the apparition in the mirror smiled coyly suddenly, which worried Deanna for she knew nothing good could come from such a smile. “Hasn’t it occurred to you as to why he felt so compelled to come to your aid time and time again? I mean, think about it, he knows of your relationship with his brother, the brother who knows nothing about him. The brother he despises from the way he speaks of him, and yet, here you are, welcomed into his home. Was it simply concern for a stranger or a cleverly calculated move. What better to draw his brother out, to ensure war between the two than to trespass on forbidden territory. Be realistic Deanna, Maxim may not truly care about you, but do you really believe he’ll look away when another man, especially a bastard brother, comes sniffing around his property? “ Her beast settled back, a self-satisfied knowing grin was offered. “My advice to you, my foolish human half, watch your own back, because, and this is the hardest part to accept, no one else will. No one. You’re on your own, kiddo.”

Deanna chewed on her lower lip as she absorbed all that her beast had revealed to her, which was stupid really, for the truth was it that each and every one of these earth-shattering visions came from none other but her own self. She lifted her gaze once more to peer into the mirror only to find her own reflection staring back at her. There was nothing abnormal or mystical about her image. Perhaps the madness had passed, or even worse, had just begun.

Nevertheless, whatever had transpired, whether it was her own subconscious coming forth or a chemical her in brain causing her delusions, Deanna felt as if a weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. Finally she could see clearly, and such clarity in her life was liberating. Deanna smiled at herself in the mirror. If it was madness that was taking hold of her, well, she would embrace it wholeheartedly. She felt free, the chains of humanity’s burdens released their hold on her. She felt a change within her, something strong and fierce. Something powerful and unrestrained.

She slowly rose from the stool, her bare feet whispering against the wood floor as she made her way to the bedroom door. She paused for a moment as she listened for Quinn’s movements. Ah, he was still here. Perfect. A brief light flashed in her eyes, and with the smile still gracing her lips, Deanna opened the door and stepped out into the main living area.

“Quinn? I’m feeling rather hungry.”

The Redeemer hadn't been seen actively on the streets of Aleris nearly as much as usual lately. He'd been busy. Currently he had a house guest that he was trying to help through some tough emotional times. He never would have guessed that just by inviting her to stay, he'd become a therapist. Of course he didn't truly mind too badly. She was an attractive woman and watching her walk around the house in one of his shirts (before her shopping trip) was kind of nice.

Of course that was an illusion. He'd be lying to himself if he let himself believe for a moment that she would be able to fall for him. Besides, she was already in love with his brother. He'd not invited her to stay here with the intentions of convincing her he was the better of the two.

He was however feeling the need for some excitement. Maybe a few rounds of beer. and perhaps a bar fight or two. should bring enough to get him revved up again. Then just as he was about to stand he heard someone coming towards him.

"Quinn, I'm feeling rather hungry."

He marked his place in the book he'd been reading and set it down. "Well, there are a few options; we can rummage through the pantry and see if anything I got the other day is appealing or we can go out. Either way I'm game." The location didn't really matter. He enjoyed spending time with her and what was eaten really was moot.

"So, it's your choice. Out or in?"