[center][i]Collab with [@Atrophy][/i]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/wUWTS6n.jpg[/img][/center]

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For as long as she could remember, Valorie always woke up first. She had hated this trait when she was a child. Sleepovers, the handful she had ever attended, were always dreadful as she spent quiet hours staring around whatever quote-unquote friend’s room she was stuck in until they woke up. Christmas mornings were an absolute nightmare as every ounce of her body struggled in a desperate attempt to restrain herself from waking her parents at four in the morning to open presents. Once she became, technically, an adult she started to appreciate the peculiarity. It allowed her to sneak in late to her dorm and leave early before any pressing questions from her roommates, and she began to extremely appreciate it when it came to drunken hook ups. Today, however, she reverted to her default stance on the issue as she watched Cain sleep. She couldn’t leave, but with nothing to distract her all she could do was lie still and listening to her self-loathing thoughts.

She heard Cain huff as if the man had peered into her mind and was reprimanding her for disparaging herself once again. She pretended to be asleep as he shifted his weight to get up to answer the vibrating phone, watching him through her lashes as he moved. Despite knowing she should mind her own business (a good rule to live by in this city), Valorie listened with some curiosity to Cain’s part of the conversation. Her interest peaked when he mentioned her, involuntarily snorting as he called her low-profile. It was actually a fitting description in reference to both her notability and ability as a necromancer, but in regards to anything else? She flipped over onto her stomach and buried her face into the pillow, her facing hurting as she tried to not laugh out loud. She got up out of the bed and she stepped into her underwear; Sammy jumped off of the couch as Valorie approached and grabbed her hoodie, zipping it only partially as she and her zombeagle walked into the kitchen.

“Wow. How quick you get rid of me. Typical,” she said cheekily as she deliberately stepped in close to Cain, cocking an eyebrow while looking up at him expectantly through bloodshot eyes. She smirked. “So, what are you doing with me now?”

She seemed to come out of nowhere - or maybe he had just been lost in thought for a moment - but her vicinity and smirk... It was like his deliberations earlier didn't happen.

He possessively put an arm around her and smiled down at her.
[color=lightblue]"Taking you back to bed, perhaps. Or the couch. The kitchen table is also an option."[/color]
Francis even gave her a kiss, a short one that tasted sour - their just desserts for not brushing their teeth - but a kiss nonetheless.

Something about her made him stupid, turned him into a horny teenager. It scared him how little power his rational thought seemed to have over his actions, how she made his breath hitch just a little bit when he saw her padding towards him half-naked, how wrong this felt... and how desperately he wanted her still, despite himself.
He noticed only now that he had zoned out for a second and found that the kiss had not been as short and grew a lot more passionate than he thought, that he had trapped her between himself and the kitchen table and his free hand, never idle, had opened her hoodie and just started grazing her belly.

As if stirred from a dream, he startled back but somehow managed to retain some form of composure. His labored breathing helped mask the small shock at how easily he had let himself go.
[color=lightblue]"But first: Breakfast. We need to get some food into you... then something else."[/color]
He groaned internally at the innuendo and could hear the echo of a facepalm from the back of his head, but the Cain in the physical world turned away, still naked and half-excited, and began busying himself with preparing a simple meal and, as promised, tea.

A cold nose nudging her leg pulled her out of the confused, guilty whirl of her mind and iced her body. She didn't hate herself just because she felt like she was using the detective; she hated herself because she felt like she was beginning to actually enjoy the act. She crouched down and pet Sammy, trying to no longer think of the worries weighing her down. Sammy licked her face; she could taste the rot. Without opening her mouth or moving a muscle, Valorie commanded the dog to stop with a silent urge. Sammy did. A horrible part of her thought of how he reminded her of Cain, much to her own chagrin, and she bit her lip to prevent a wicked smile. 

She zipped up her hoodie and went into the other room to grab her borrowed book, cigarettes, and the ashtray. Her eyes greedily danced over the bookcase, singling in on the book about blood magic that Cain had prevented her from reading. The sound of her host cooking in the kitchen was muted as she stared at the spine of the book. Everything returned to normal as she peeled her eyes away, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other as she walked back into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Setting the ashtray near a mug of tea that had appeared and placing a cigarette in her mouth. She snapped her fingers, but as expected no fire came. She lit it the traditional way.

Sammy had not moved from his frozen position; she allowed him to act on his own accord again. The dog laid at her feet as she drank from the mug, idly flipping through the tome while drawing runes in the air with her finger. She muttered parts of incantations under her breath, pausing only briefly as she realized that Cain had never really answered her question. He had mentioned sending her to somebody. For all she knew, it could be to another goddamn cop. Her nose wrinkled.

"In all seriousness," she stated, "I would like to know who the hell it was that you promised to send me to."

[color=lightblue]"Barrow & White"[/color], he answered plainly, moving the ashtray aside with a whispered word of power and replacing it with a plate before sitting down with his own. [color=lightblue]"Ever heard of them?"[/color]
Valorie shook her head.

[color=lightblue]"Well, let me put it this way: If I'm the sheriff - the guy who has to play by the rules of the strongest local gangs if he wants to stay alive - they are more like the CIA: A legal facade for a big, international firm who have money, influence and arcane artifacts; at least that's the tip of the iceberg. They are 'the big leagues', if you will. And you"[/color], he pointed his piece of toast at her, [color=lightblue]"are going to meet their chief representative in the city: Kurtz."[/color]

He couldn't tell if she was too shocked to speak or so excited she was struggling for words, but he pretended not to notice, took a bite and continued as casually as if they were talking about the weather.
[color=lightblue]"He was asking for a necromancer and I happen to know one. Barrow & White tend to look out for their partners and their reputation is enough to make some people think twice about doing something stupid. Speaking of which"[/color], Cain glanced at his cellphone as he took a sip from his own mug, [color=lightblue]"I believe I should speak to Kennedy and let him know you will make some influential friends today. What do you think?"[/color]


Valorie sighed. [i]I feel like a rat in a maze, being prodded around by fingers of snot-nosed little fucks trying to lead me away from one dead end and into another.[/i]

"You know best," said Valorie sourly, devouring her toast and sipping from her mug to hide the concerned frown on her lips. Saying she was actually a necromancer was like saying a fifth grader who made one layup was Michael Jordan. If they were as serious as Cain implied then they didn't want someone who could, sometimes, get a dead body to sing and dance for a minute. They wanted someone who could raise a graveyard with a little bit of blood and some hocus pocus. Cain's comparing the firm to the CIA certainly did little to ease any concerns. If anything, it made her even more anxious. She knew the man believed in her, but beliefs often led to disappointment. Still, if Cain thought it could get Kennedy off of her back then perhaps it was worth the risk. 

"But yeah, no, this might be good actually," she said, sounding a bit chipper. The more she thought of it, the more her anxiety mixed with actual excitement. "I need more practice, anyway, and if it means I don't work for Kennedy ever again then I'm pretty much up for anything." Her eyes widened as she thought more about the opportunity. "Is there a dress code or something? I should dress up right? Play the part? Get like a real gothic black dress, maybe some dark lace, paint my face real white with powder or something. Some real Vincent Price shit, you know? You think your friend will let me borrow her cool skull mask?" she added, unable to stop herself from beaming as she ran her hand through her hair. "I should dye it black, right? I should dye it black."

[color=lightblue]"Don't overdo it"[/color], Cain said in a stern voice but a hint of a smile made his lips twitch. [color=lightblue]"Barrow & White are big on appearances - looking and acting professional goes a long way with them. Comes with the firm originating from England, I guess."[/color]

He reached out to touch her hand but didn't take it into his - his gesture wasn't possessive, he was merely focusing her attention on himself. Francis had missed some cues in her mimic and tone yesterday but the anxiety and displeasure she had shown a few moments ago had not escaped his attention.
[color=lightblue]"I know you are here because [i]you[/i] decided to be here. I know that it's not my place to choose who you work with and I realize how challenging this job might be. But I want you to understand how important it was that I responded decisively, that I was confident about you... because I am."[/color]

His look wandered down to the beagle monstrosity. It still wasn't very kind on the eyes in the daylight but he could feel the magic radiate from it. The dog was the reason he thought she could handle it and, even though her feeling a little better about being here with Sammy around was something he had factored into the equation when he 'allowed her' to bring him along, his main motivation had been to take a look at his aura. The simple fact of the matter was that she did a fine job reviving him, from a magical standpoint, and that was no small feat; only necromancers in movies could revive hordes of undead without a lot of time, blood and talent.

[color=lightblue]"You have it in you to become a great necromancer, and confidence in your skill is as important as the right incantation. You'll be fine."[/color] Francis gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, then picked up his phone and dialed Kennedy's cellphone. [color=lightblue]"I've got an idea or two on how to make your work a little easier"[/color], he said, smirking, as he waited for the corrupt cop to pick up.

"Thanks. Really," she said, her eyes falling on his phone. She nodded at it. "You should put it on speaker; I'll be quiet."

The phone clicked before Cain had a chance to react. Even without the speaker, Valorie could hear Kennedy yelling over the line, although she was unable to make out all of the words. Whatever they were, they weren't nice. Cain, however, got the pleasure of hearing every last thing.

"I thought I told you to never call me at work, you slut. I swear, I when I get home tonight I am going to absolutely fuck the living—" A door slammed. "—sorry, Francis. I was dining with some, hmph, less than professional types. Had to maintain appearances. How are you, my friend? Was any of that information I gave you helpful?"

[color=lightblue]"As helpful as the SSPD can be"[/color], Cain responded, his smile turning sardonic as he followed Valorie's suggestion and put her special friend on speaker. [color=lightblue]"At the very least, it tells me which leads are dead-ends."[/color]

[color=lightblue][i]'Less than professional types', huh? Look who's talking[/i][/color], he thought, somewhat disappointed that the phone couldn't transfer the thought or the look that might have conveyed it. Perhaps it was for the better. This could either go really well or really badly and he had no idea which one it would be yet.

[color=lightblue]"Listen, Richard, I've got some news regarding the girl you had me save the other night, Valorie... something, right?"[/color] It was always better to feign ignorance and disinterest than to show your hand right away. [color=lightblue]"Anyway, I spoke to somebody at Barrow & White this morning and, apparently, they have taken an interest in her."[/color]

He paused and let these words take effect. Kennedy was making some noise but it was hard to tell whether he was grumbling, cursing or something else.

"And why, pray tell, would a London company of smugglers and crooks take interest in a doped up Rat from the heartland?" asked Kennedy through his teeth.

Valorie tapped Cain's hand to get his attention and mouthed the word "lie" towards him. If Kennedy knew she was still practicing her magic, she would be in a world of trouble. 

Cain nodded almost imperceptibly and responded to Kennedy without missing a beat:
[color=lightblue]"I don't have the faintest idea. They don't exactly keep me in the loop. Maybe they don't know about Syndicate's involvement in what happened yesterday night and think she killed the other Rats on her own. Or, more likely, she picked up some information on the Rats that they are currently interested in."[/color]

He leaned forward, closer to the phone, as if he was leaning in closer to Kennedy, and spoke a little softer.
[color=lightblue]"It doesn't matter why they want her - they just do. And you know as well as I that they wouldn't have dropped her name in a conversation with me without a reason. Barrow & White is aware that I have contacts within the SSPD; my guess is that they know or suspect she's an informant and they wanted me to pass along the message that she's off limits now."[/color]

Cane made himself sound slightly annoyed, just like the last time he talked to Kennedy, to make it sound believable. It wasn't hard to do, really - he was always annoyed when he talked to this man.

Valorie held her breath, waiting for Kennedy's response. Could it really be this easy? She frowned. Before Kennedy even spoke, she already knew that this wouldn't be enough. His laughed confirmed her fears.

"Somehow I doubt that's the whole story. Francis, I truly respect you as a detective, but as I man I do not understand your taste in women. Valorie, sweetheart, was this your idea? Did you put Francis up to this?" asked Kennedy. Valorie stared down Cain and refused to move or make any sound. "Valorie, stop pretending that you're not there. I always know where my girls are. Come on, my little mockingbird, sing for me now," his voice darkened, "or I'll make you sing later."

Valorie glared at Cain as if to demand him to fix everything.

But she was met with glowing eyes as a cigarette butt in the ashtray caught fire.

[color=lightblue]"That's enough."[/color]

Cain's voice was still calm but he still sounded different, more imposing, more... dangerous.

[color=lightblue]"I don't know what kind of issues you're having with or what you're projecting on Valorie and, frankly, I don't give a shit. All that matters is that Kurtz is interested in her and I'm starting to get curious aswell. You've been playing this game long enough to know that, between Barrow & White and [i]me[/i], she is no longer yours to command. But I'm not unreasonable: I'd accept this as an advance payment on the next time you require my services."[/color]

The tension was palpable. Francis was not going to back down, that much was obvious. The only question was if Kennedy really wanted to make this personal.

"Oh god, Francis, yes, you are totally not being unreasonable," roared Kennedy with bitter, sarcastic laughter. "Projecting. Sheesh. Seriously?" There was a sigh over the line. "You've been playing this game too long, old timer, that you failed to notice that the rules have changed and the pieces aren't the same. You think I'm only backed up by a couple of SSPD toughs these days? I could deport those Barrow & White pricks back to jolly old England in a body bag with a single phone."

There was another noise of frustration from the line, but when Kennedy spoke again his voice lacked any of the biting spite he had earlier. 

"But you sold me. You know I hate to lose, but, Francis, this bitch just isn't worth our friendship—and considering your prices, this was a real bargain. I had already planned on removing her from my payroll next week anyway, but I guess I can just expedite that order. Hear that, Valorie? No more allowance. But hey, I'm sure Cain and his friends will take care of you. Seriously, congratulations on being bought, you graduated from being a snitch into being a gold digger. Way to go, kiddo. Really climbing that ladder. I'm sure Mr. & Mrs. Pierce will be real proud of their baby now. I know that I'm positively thrilled."

Valorie had sunk into her seat. She didn't respond, her hair casting shadows over her eyes as her fingernails dug into her palms.

"It was good hearing from you as always, Francis. I'll be calling you within a few days to cash in on our deal."

Half the ashtray was ablaze by the time Kennedy stopped talking. It wasn't Kennedy's bluff that angered him - he knew as well as Cain that nothing short of a gang war could drive Barrow & White out of the city, considering their connections, skilled operatives and the invaluable services they provided to several factions - but the viciousness with which he spoke to Valorie. Yet, Cain's expression remained one of indifference and his wrath did not seep into his tone, although he silently cursed the fact that he couldn't set fire to Kennedy's tie over the phone.

[color=lightblue]"I appreciate your... generosity, Richard. Give Kormos my best."[/color]

He ended the call before the bastard could think of more hurtful things to say. The old man got up, phone in hand, and his fingers and arm twitched as if he was about to shatter it, but instead he ungently let it fall back on the table, forced his eyes shut and, with a long, loud exhale, relaxed and let the fire die.

[color=lightblue]"I should have killed that fucker when we were still patrolling the streets"[/color], he muttered but when he opened his eyes, they were blue again and he seemed calm enough when he laid his hand on her shoulder.

[color=lightblue]"There you have it - he's no longer part of your life. You're free again."[/color]

Valorie seethed in her seat. By now, her nails had drawn blood from where they dug in to her palms, Sammy licking at the droplets on the floor. Her mind swirled with rage; her stomach churned with sickness. The harsh truth, or at least what she deemed to be true, of Kennedy's words had dragged her to the edge of a cliff. But it was Cain's words, Cain's voice that pushed her over. Yes, he should have killed the fucker. Her handling would've been pushed on to someone else then. Now what? Any thought of her actually being able to prove herself as an asset to Barrow & White was whisked away from her mind, unless they needed a call girl. Was she to play housewife to some old fucking detective for the rest of her life? Or would it be slave, considering he had "bought" her from Kennedy like she was his property. [i]No, it'd be whore,[/i] she thought, remembering Cain's "advice" from last night. [i]Because I just got screwed.[/i]

She smacked Cain's hand away from her shoulder.  

"Free? Free? Are you fucking kidding?" she said loudly, pushing herself up to her feet. "I'm fucked! I can't be cut dry like that, man. I could hardly make rent as it was, now I'm absolutely screwed. Not to mention every fucking pig in this city will be hauling my ass in every time I set foot in the street. I mean, you really think the prick's going to honor this? He's a total asshole. I'm fucked, I'm fucked," she shouted, rattling the dishes as she slammed her hands on the table like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. She shot a hateful glare at Cain. "You said you were going to make things easier. How is this going to be easier?"

[color=lightblue]"Do you think I'm some kind of fool?"[/color]

It was different from before. Kennedy had set his blood boiling without raising his voice, simply because Cain had come to loathe the man and his cruelty; but Valorie, shouting, cursing and halfway to slamming bedroom doors like an angry child, didn't hit the same spot. She was more scared than anything, he realized.

[color=lightblue]"Do you believe I would have spoken to him like this, ended the call like this and offered him what I did if I didn't [b]know[/b] that he would honor this agreement? I told you before: Barrow & White are influential. Kennedy is a spiteful son-of-a-bitch but he's not stupid enough to rock the boat, not when his life and his money are at stake. And you may not have noticed it yet but I'm a mage, I have other friends in the SSPD and I've got people who owe me favors in every single gang, family and syndicate in the city, so even if he went back on his word and Kurtz' people were out of the picture, I am more than capable of taking on Richard Kennedy, so forget about him and the SSPD - they are not your problem anymore, they're [i]mine[/i], if anybody's."[/color]

As he spoke, Cain walked out of the kitchen and over to his wardrobe, finally putting on some boxer briefs to cover himself. In the end, it was the noises Sammy made that had drawn the detective's gaze towards the floor... and his dangling man parts. It was the thought of having been stark naked throughout the entire conversation with Kennedy that put a sardonic grin on his face as he turned to Valorie once again as she followed him.

[color=lightblue]"As for your money situation, you can leave that to me as well. I have enough in my savings accounts to buy a small island, if I wanted to. I could retire today and live out the rest of my life in peace, if I wanted... except I don't. I'm not done with this city yet. But if all you want is money"[/color], the smile had made way for a stern look, [color=lightblue]"if you'd like ten, twenty, hell, fifty grand to start over, if what you [b]really[/b] want more than anything right now is to walk out this door, then I will give it to you and let you go."[/color]

His finger pointed at the apartment's entrance for a few seconds later before he slowly closed the gap between himself and the girl again, drawing almost as close to her as they had been between the two phonecalls but not quite so much that she would feel trapped.
[color=lightblue]"Or you could be my apprentice and learn how to use your gift, if you wanted to. You could go and meet Kurtz and perhaps make a valuable contact, if you wanted to. You could live here where somebody would watch out for you, if you wanted to. You could fuck me or have me fuck you every night, if you wanted to. All of that, every single aspect of what I described, is entirely up to you, Valorie."[/color]

He looked directly into her eyes and the look he gave her was sincere, his eyes seeming to briefly flicker from blue to orange when he spoke of sex, but the only move he made was taking a step back, away from her, illustrating the autonomy he guaranteed her.

[color=lightblue]"I'm not like Kennedy: I may have my manipulative moments but I don't force people into something they don't want - all I'm doing here is showing you your options and adding some more for you to choose from; no more, no less. You are as free as you can be in this city. Now, the only question is: What do [i]you[/i] want?"[/color]

"I don't know," she said, lamely. 

It was the truth. She wanted somebody to help her with her problems, but she didn't want to rely on others. She wanted to be free of her finance issues, but she didn't want to be pitied and donated to like a charity case. She would have loved to learn more magic, but the last thing that appealed to her right now was continuing to be lectured by Cain. She wanted to work for Kurtz, but she didn't to risk the failure. She even knew that a part of her wanted to stay with Cain, but another part of her could only see him as being another Kennedy. She wanted to make a decision, but she feared being stuck with the outcome. Sammy had followed them; she sat down on her knees and petted him for reassurance. As she spoke she stared down at Sammy, the undead dog staring up at her through dead eyes as his tattered tail wagged happily. 

"For a while, I thought I was going to do some good with my necromancy, you know? End suffering, give good people eternal life, that kind of childish bullshit...like I was a character in some kind of fucking cartoon show for idiots," she said solemnly, refusing to look up at Cain. "Or maybe I just wanted some kind of control. Who knows? I came to this city to get better at my hobby, but reality checked me and it checked me hard. Turns out pluckiness and a can-do-attitude counts for about as much as it does here as it did back home. Working for Kennedy, well, I guess I was comfortable there. I could fuck around and got paid and occasionally I had to snitch out some asshole, but it was okay because they were a bad dude. Don't get me wrong, I hate the guy, but if I hadn't botched that thing with Gish I probably would have continued on in that lifestyle forever. It was easy; I was unhappy, but complacent. I got it. At least I thought I got it."

"With you I don't get it. You've already challenged me more times in a day then anyone else has in my life; I kind of hate it, I think. I do hate it, actually. It sucks, man. I kind of want to just walk through that fucking door and go back to running guns so I can score some dust. I keep thinking that the other shoe is going to drop at some point and you're going to sacrifice me to some eldritch god to prolong your life or sell me to the Nyctari. Or maybe you have no other motive than the obvious one, and that's somehow even more horrifying. I kind of just want to disappear."

"But I guess that all started when I almost lost you," she said, referring to Sammy. Her voice was small as she cupped his head in her hands. "We both really knew why I brought you back. I wasn't sad, or lonely. I was scared; worried that I would get in trouble. Concerned that I wouldn't be able to go to the movies or hang out with my friends and get drunk because mom and dad would find out about what happened and ground me. I was just running away. Even made you come with me, running alongside me all the time with your stupid, broken, lame body. You deserve some rest, boy." She felt something squish. There was no whimper, no bark as she pushed her hands together, Sammy's tail stopping still as his body went limp on the floor. Her head ached as the mental connection she held over her pet severed. She looked down with glassy eyes; the corpse was now just a corpse. "Guess I want to stop running, too."

"Okay," she said, wiping the gore off on her hoodie and pushing herself up. "Here's the thing. I know you're from a time when people rode around on horses wearing shining armor, throwing roses and kisses at maidens, and trying to stick anything they could with big, sharp poles, but I need you to stop trying to be my protector. My friend, benefits and what not, okay, sure. But this," her voice attempted to drop in pitch to what she assumed Cain sounded like, pumping her arms up and down as if it added to the imitation, "Oh, let me give you money and magic and contacts and contact all out of the goodness of my heart because I know I can fix you up, little girl." It was a bad impression. She went back to her regular, annoying voice. "That? Needs to stop. Chivalry is dead because it's just kinda weird, man."

Cain's mouth looked like it was opening. She waved her hand frantically to prevent him from talking, little visceral drops of liquid flicking from her fingertips. Her foot stamped the floor, as if signalling the beginning of the end of her rant. As she spoke, her motions became more and more exaggerated.

"So, I'm gonna lay down some rules, okay? Okay. First of all," she jabbed a finger out and smacked it as if it emphasized the order, "no more my girl. Ugh, I hate that. I hate that!" She jutted out a second finger and smacked it as well, and so on. "Second thing, if Kennedy becomes a issue, which he will, then it's [i]our[/i] problem, okay? Third, you're not giving me money. If I'm living here then I'm going to pay you, and I'm going to pay you in cash, and you're going to take the cash— and yes, my current housing option is either here, homeless, or in a dust den, so I rather pick here, and I can't really think about screwing because there are guts all over my—" She took a breath and composed herself, smacking a forth finger. "I'm going to take the job from Kurtz, and if I fuck up I'm going to fuck up [i]on my own[/i] so that I can learn. And finally—"

She ran out of fingers on her hand to smack. Instead, she just extended her dirty hand towards Cain, expecting him to shake it. 

"My name is Valorie Pierce. Some asshole I knew once told me that you were a great mage. I would like to become your apprentice so that together the two of us can burn this city down and rebuild it into something a little less shitty. I will work as hard as I can, and I will try to remain focused, and I will absolutely fuck up many times, and you will let me do so as long as I still remain on point, and if it ever becomes apparent that I am not cut out for this then you will cut me out. And I guarantee you that I will clean this mess up. Right after this. By myself. Because I made it. And you have the right to punch me if I ever talk this much again. Deal?" she said, smiling.

Cain vaguely remembered something that Valorie had said the night before: That she was young and stupid and [i]wanted[/i] to be because that was how she was supposed to act... or something along those lines. The girl in front of him, however, had done a lot of growing up in the last few minutes. He never thought that she would kill her pet - but no, that wasn't it, not at all. A simple man would have seen it as nothing but killing her pet or putting Sammy out of his misery, but he understood what it truly was, what implications it had: It was as significant as Da Vinci or Michelangelo smashing their first great work, the first object of their making that held a glimpse of future greatness. With one gesture, she had wiped her slate clean and severed perhaps her only remaining connection to the home she grew up in and the person she was before she delved into necromancy.

She was not the same person he had picked up in a bar a few weeks ago, sassy and full of herself and so very talented at pretending that she was mature and balanced. She wasn't the girl from two nights ago either, scared and erratic and barely able to hold it together. Maybe this was a glimpse of what she might become when she had mastered her hormones, her urges, her self-depreciating thoughts and the art of necromancy. The Valorie Price in front of him was not a girl just anybody could toy around with, and that was good on many levels... and bad on others.

But he extended his hand to take her much smaller one without hesitation, unphased by the brain matter, blood or squelching sound the contact came with. She didn't know his motives. She didn't know why he had taken her in, that it went beyond just sex, beyond just curiosity about her talents, beyond just an urge to fix her, beyond 'chivalry'. Not that it mattered at the moment.

He smiled back and gave her a nod of approval.
[color=lightblue]"Alright, you have yourself a deal, Valorie Pierce. Francis Cain is going to teach you what he knows. When you're done here"[/color], he nodded at the dead dog and let the smile fade, [color=lightblue]"join me on the couch. I'd like to show you how you can focus a little more easily on the magic spark. And if you'd like, I could show you a place where you can bury Sammy. I think he deserves that."[/color]

"Yeah," said Valorie, sharing a secret smile with Sammy's violent remains. "He does."