[center] [img]http://i.imgur.com/mq3ylMP.jpg[/img] [/center]





[i]There had better be more coming.[/i] Nyxvira fumed inwardly, as she licked up the last few crumbs of Baruch’s half-arsed offering. A quick rummage through the mini-fridge yielded a decent sized packet of Babybels, which the Faerie spent the next few minutes munching on, before tossing their empty wrappers into the waste paper basket. 

Her suite was a regal one, displaying the very latest in new age interior decorating. Soft chairs, a softer bed, and silk drapes like twin waterfalls of rich silver, sweeping over huge windows with clear glass panels. 

It wasn’t long before her hound arrived. 

Narcissa entered the room with long, feline strides. Even out of her armour, the Elf looked an elegant killing machine. 

Nyxvira had been halfway through undressing, but it would have been impossible to gage that by the unflinching nature of the elf’s tone.

“What would you have me do, my lady?” She asked in her cold voice. 

“Help me fuck up the Nyctari.” The Faerie said plainly, her head propped up against the headboard, as she lay spread out across the queen-sized bed. “Big” didn’t even come close to capturing Nyxvira’s girthy immensity. She completely dominated the centre of the bed, with the swollen vastness of her gigantic gut bulging out in front of her.

“And to do that, I need you to retrieve something very specific for me.”

Narcissa stood sentinel on the other side of the room, watching the Faerie with a wordless gaze. 

[i]She gives me the fucking creeps.[/i] There was more than one reason Nyxie had her watched closely by a tightly-knit security detail. 

"The Blood Atlas of Akhmat Khan,” She let the words roll off of her tongue “a very precious little book, which is going to help us find where Concetto is hiding.” 

A spout of indigestion made Nyxvira wince suddenly. 

“Barrow and White have quite a few trinkets from the Great Horde,” She explained “go and tear their tower apart until you find the Atlas, then-” 

Suddenly, Nyxie’s phone started ringing. 

“For fuck’s sake…” 

She answered with the press of a button. 

“Bill's Roadside Diner: you kill 'em, we grill 'em.” 

“Boss, we got ourselves a problem.” 

The voice on the other end was a familiar one. Rebecca Rapava: the Winston Wolfe of the Bloodbloom Syndicate. 

“What’s up?” 

“Sending you footage now.” 

Nyxie looked down at her screen. 

The hotel lobby was crawling with heavily-armed SWAT operatives, kitted out like GSG 9 soldiers. They barked orders, threatened folks at gunpoint, and snatched Rapava’s phone off of her once they realized she was recording them. 

The call went dead. 

[i]Fuck.[/i] 

“You know what to do, Hound.” She said, with spikes of frantic urgency biting into her words “Now get your arse out of here.” 

Narcissa turned and left, as quietly as she’d appeared. 

[i]Time to play the waiting game[/i]. Nyxvira thought to herself, as she laid her hands out on her thick thighs, and waited for Veronika Tolstoi’s goons to come and seize her.