Shadows of the Night

once more, we are back to explore the sick and twisted world that is my mind. if you don't think you can handle it, please don't continue any further. this is a story entirely of my own making, so my only disclaimer is to let you know that there may be things contained within the story that you, as a reader, may find disturbing. if you do, please don't read on. simply click the back button and find something else to read. i am not little miss suzy sunshine.

you have been duly warned and i am not responsible if you continue on and decide you don't like it.

Chapter Eight: Secrets
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Drum stood outside the door of the bedroom, listening to the soft sobs coming from the other side of the closed portal. Katya hadn't come out of her room all day and she wouldn't speak to him any time he asked her if she was alright. He'd brought her breakfast and lunch, both of which had gone untouched. So far as he was able to tell, she hadn't opened the door once since he'd left her alone last night. He was at his wit's end because he didn't dare leave her alone, yet he couldn't find a reason to just barge in on her. He was certain that she felt guilty about what had almost happened the night before, but she wouldn't talk to him to sort things out. There was so much she didn't know and he wanted to explain it to her.

She wouldn't let him in, wouldn't acknowledge him at all. And every time he asked after her, she only sobbed more. He didn't think he could take much more of this. He'd never done well with crying women. It was in his nature to comfort them and try to take the hurt away. And she refused to let him do that. He'd tried to tell Mac that morning when he'd returned to the house what had happened, but one look at the other man's face told Drum that the vampire was far too preoccupied to listen to what needed to be said.

Drum sighed and leaned against the wall. He couldn't tell what Kat was thinking, but he'd seen this before and he knew what she was going through. He knew what she'd likely start thinking. That she was going insane. She would be feeling things she'd never felt before and, unless she understood where they were coming from and why... She might just become another victim. He needed to get Mac to explain things to her before much more time passed. It was obvious she was going to do her best to avoid him and he felt that, if he couldn't do it, someone else needed to explain to her what was going on.

He frowned as he thought over the conversation he'd had with Mac last night before the incident had taken place. His friend had been right. Much as Drum didn't want to admit it, he was smitten with Katya. He hadn't known the girl very long, but he could already tell that she was likely one of the kindest women he'd ever chanced to meet. And he'd met quite a few women in his long lifetime. She was the first who had ever sensed that he'd seen something longer than a normal life span. Other than Mac, that was.

When he was a young boy, Drum had known he wasn't normal. Times had been so different then, yet so much the same. People were people and did what they had to in order to survive. That hadn't changed over the endless centuries of recorded time. He'd been witness to that first hand. For the first ten years of his life, he hadn't suffered the change. But when he'd hit puberty, that had gone by the wayside.

The first full moon had been the hardest. The change had hurt and it had literally felt as if he was being ripped into pieces and shoved back together incorrectly. It was the first time in his life that Drum had cried. Since he was a child, he'd been left almost completely alone. His father had gone to complete his change in the midst of the forest. Drum had been left with his older sister. The males of the species were very competetive and had been known to kill their children out of blind jealousy in the early years of the adolescent's shifting.

It wasn't until Drum had seen nearly eighteen years that he'd been able to shift around the rest of the pack. He'd been taught, by his sister or cousins, how to hunt and defend himself in his wolfen form. And he'd always been kept from females in heat until he was older. His first mating had been almost deadly. He'd been eager and hadn't been able to control himself around the females. He'd smelled them all the way across the forest and into the small village where they lived.

He'd found out later that the she-wolf he'd mated with had died from his enthusiasm.

When he'd reached his eighteenth year, he'd finally sat down and forced his mother to answer the questions that had been swirling in his fevered brain for some time. He hadn't been prepared for the answers she'd given him.

"Drummond, there's sae much ye dinna understand," Lilla Kendricks told her son with a sad smile on her face.

"Then help me understand, Mum. Tell me what it is I need to ken," he ordered with a steel in his voice that shocked her, even though she'd known from the moment of his birth that her son would grow to be a leader.

"There are actually two kinds of shifters, lad. There are those that are bitten. They contract whatever it is in a shifter's blood that makes them change. They have some o' our strengths. But they also have weaknesses we dinna. Because we are shifters that are born that way. We dinna contract the disease or what ever it may be. It be something that is part o' us."

"Sae I'll always be like this? I'll always be a freak?" Drum asked bitterly, his mind turning back to the mangled body of the woman he'd taken not all that long ago.

"Ye arena a freak, my boy. Ye're merely different from everyone else. But that doesna make ye a freak," Lilla knelt down and put her hands on her son's shoulders. She smiled up at him. He'd grown into a fine, handsome lad. She thought perhaps he was a bit too introspective, but he was a glorious specimen of humanity. He was, and always had been, a thinker.

"I killed that girl, Mum. I brutalized her and..." he broke off, his voice choked with emotion. Lilla remained on her knees, but lifted up so she could hug him to her. She rocked him and soothed him as if he were a small child.

"Dinna beat yerself up aboot that, love. Its happened more than once. A she-wolf must be as strong as her mate, or these things happen. She knew the risks when she offered herself to ye," Lilla said gently.

"I willna ever take a mate, Mum. No' if I can kill her in the midst o' my passions," Drum swore.

"With age comes wisdom and the ability to hold back, my love. Ye'll see. Someday, ye'll find the woman o' yer dreams and she'll love ye fer who ye are. No matter which one o' ye she kens."

His mother had been right. As he'd gotten older, he'd found a way to control the wildness that coursed through his veins. He'd learned to temper his aggressiveness with intellect and patience. Five years had passed before he'd learned that this mother had known what she'd been talking about. The moment he'd seen the dark-eyed beauty in flowing scarves and skirts, Drum had known that he'd lost his heart.

It had been winter, brutally cold and deadly out for both man and beast alike. His family had lived in a small village on the edge of a lake and he'd been asked to go into the nearest town, over a day's journey away. His mother needed supplies to feed his father, brothers and sisters. His father had needed some new tools to use in his job as both a blacksmith and a leathersmith. Drum, being the oldest, had volunteered to go and fetch back the items needed. And that was where he'd seen Moira the first time.

She'd come from the inn just as he'd pulled the wagon to a stop. She'd been wearing only a scarf about her shoulders to protect her from the bitter cold. Underneath, she's been clad in a long skirt of vibrant colors, a series of scarves hanging from her coin belt. She'd worn a multi-colored bodice over a white peasant styled blouse. Her skin had been the color of creamed coffee, though that wasn't a description he'd been able to use at the time. Her eyes and hair had been dark as night, lending her an air of mystery and the exotic.

Drum had fallen in love with her straight away.

It was only six months later that Drummond Kendricks and Moira MacPheerson had wed. He'd never told her about his affliction, because she'd come from a family that hadn't been tainted by the shifter's disease. But it had been hard for him to keep his secret from her and he'd been forced, by guilt, to tell someone. He'd thought that confessing to his priest would be a good way to go, to deal with the oppressive guilt that weighed down his shoulders. That had only made his problems worse.

It wasn't until after Moira's death that he decided that he wouldn't tell anyone about his secrets unless they needed to know. And even then, he wouldn't tell them the absolute truth. He'd only given Katya half the truth when they'd spoke of his wife. He'd told her he'd been bitten, which was a lie. But he didn't think she was ready to cope with the information that there were shifters who were infected and there were those who were born what they were. Perhaps someday, when he felt he could trust her completely, he'd tell her the entire story.

Because there was so much more to tell.

"My Moira is gone and tis yer fault!" Andula MacPheerson screamed at Drum, her black eyes piercing and intent. Drum hung his head. Though Andula couldn't possibly know the truth of it all, her claims were right. He was responsible for her death and he would have to live with it on his conscience for the rest of his days. "Yer the one who should be dead! No' my Moira!"

Drum said nothing. He knew that Andula was grieving and this was a way for her to deal with her feelings. And there was really nothing he could say to make the woman feel better. Not when his heart was shattered into thousands of pieces and he'd never be able to put it to rights again. He simply stood there and allowed Andula to rant and rave at him, until she was exhausted with her tears and rage. Eventually, she collapsed weakly into a chair and sobbed softly in the painful silence of the room.

"Drummond Kendricks," an old, leathery voice brought his head up. Coming in from the other room was an older version of Andula MacPheerson. The woman was stooped, with steel gray streaks flowing through the coal black of her hair and heavy lines maping her age on her face. Needra Romanov, Moira's grandmother, stepped into the light thrown off by the fire and pinned him with a cold black stare. There was malice in those dark eyes and it was directed at him. "You are to blame for my beloved child's grief. For that, you will suffer. But you will carry this grief for an eternity."

She shook her hands at him and it was then he noticed that she carried bloodied cards in one hand and a pair of chicken's feet in the other. She muttered in a tongue he didn't know, her eyes never leaving his. When the words died away, he felt something heavy and thick, rather like a blanket, settle around him and weigh him down. "You are cursed, Drummond Kendricks. Cursed to a life of loneliness and solitude. You will never find the love of a woman who will accept you for who and what you are. You will spend the rest of time searching for something you cannot have. You will never be able to join Moira in death. Never."

Drum hadn't believed in the curse. Until he'd begun to realize that everyone he knew and loved was growing old around him while he remained a youthful man of twenty-five. He watched his mother and father die and his brothers and sisters age slowly. It had finally come to him that Moira's grandmother, a full blooded Gypsy woman, had literally cursed him to his own worst living hell. He would never, ever, die.

Which brought him to where he was today. The only person he'd ever told everything to was Mac. And that was in a moment of weakness brought about by mass quantities of alcohol and a burning sorrow that had been eating him up inside. Drum thought he might one day be able to tell Katya about his past. She'd already guessed much of it. And she struck him as being a trustworthy person.

If for no other reason than she was a kind-hearted girl who needed friends, he would see to it that she was taken care of. She would be told of the problems she faced and she would find a way to work through them. She would not be left to flounder in the dark in much the same manner as he had been. She was going to understand what was happening. Drum would see to that. His mind made up, Drum moved down the hall and toward the stairs, intent on waiting for Mac.

He was going to confront his friend and make the man tell Katya just what the hell was happening to her.

~*~*~*~*~

Mac stared out at the gathered group. In all, there were fifteen people gathered in the meeting room. He'd managed to get word out to each member of the Officers before sun up that morning. None of them looked happy to be gathered together on such short notice, but that couldn't be helped. It was just now shortly after sun down and he'd been through the door almost as soon as it had slipped under the edge of the world. Templer sat in his battered throne, staring out at the group before him. He had a knowing smirk on his face that Mac didn't like at all.

"I know you're all wondering why I called you here on such short notice," Templer began, not bothering to shift into a proper sitting position. He was slouched down in the chair, looking out at them all with the eyes of a ruler who had absolute control and knew it.

"This does seem to be short notice, Templer," Ginger sighed, dragging a file across the dagger like ends of her nails. All outward appearances suggested she was a blonde bimbo. From the color of her hair to the seemingly out of proportion measurements of her generous frame, one and all saw nothing more than a complete airhead. But looks were deceiving. Ginger was the family's Assassin. And she was damned good at it. "Even for you."

Templer sneered. "I had a visit last night from Deeanna McBride and Orwen Rogers," he announced to the group, his gaze lingering on Ginger's ample chest. Everyone present knew what would happen if he suggested anything untoward. It was the reason that she was Assassin. The names had the desired effect and everyone gave Templer their undivided attention.

"What did they want?" Feral asked. His deep, growling voice and rather animalistic looks were what had given him his name and he'd been called Feral for so long that no one could recall what his real name was.

"To let me know, without actually saying it, of course, that Judas wants control of the family and my territory."

"War?" Kreegan frowned.

"He hopes we'll act rashly and start one, yes," Templer nodded. A low murmur broke out over the gathering and filled the deep silence of the room. Mac watched them, gathering stray thoughts from them. Each of them were thinking that war would be suicide.

"What do we do then, Templer?" Feral grunted. He was one of the few present who wouldn't mind a break out of a vampiric war. Of course, Feral stood a better chance of beating Judas' coven than almost anyone. What little Mac knew of him indicated the man had been alive nearly as long as he had. He'd seen glimpses of bloodied swords and screaming women. Given his pale coloring and his bear-like stature, Mac thought perhaps he'd been a Viking.

"We avoid starting it. But, if Judas crosses the line, we end it," Templer told them firmly. There were several nods in agreement to this statement. Many of the Officers were silent, simply watching Templer with looks that Mac knew well. Though they might not say what they were thinking, he knew one and all were silently questioning Templer's ability to further rule the family.

For some time now, Mac had noticed a growing dissent among the Officers. Many of the family felt the same way, but none of them would ever put voice to their feelings in the same room as Templer. They all thought that perhaps he was losing touch with the family and its needs. He'd been in power for a very long time and he really didn't do much to protect them. His name was enough to instill fear in their enemies. But how much longer would that work at keeping them safe?

The vampires of the city grouped together in covens and each coven was bound by a set of firm rules. Hunting was prohibited unless there were attacks made against the coven that were unforgiveable. It was expected that the covens would feed, but that they would be discreet about it. Most of the vamps were encouraged to find blood sport, or a person they could drink from regularly. Some vamps did. Some traveled to the outskirts of town or took the less desireables. But they never made a mess of people. There was no excuse for calling attention to the community and to do so was a crime that was punishable by whatever the leader deemed appropriate.

"So what the hell are we supposed to do?" Barden asked, his voice gruff with anger. "Let Judas and his little horde of maniacs attack us as they will? Simply allow them to do as they please to us while we sit back and take their shit?"

Everyone stared at Templer expectantly. Technically, they couldn't do anything without Templer's say. He was head of the family and he was the one who gave the orders. That didn't mean that things didn't happen without Templer's say so or knowledge. But those things were so small and insignificant that he never bothered to take notice of them. This, however, was important and they wouldn't be given the opportunity to do anything without Templer's approval and knowledge. This was war.

Mac stood next to Templer's chair, wondering the same thing. To his knowledge, the family hadn't ever been in any kind of situation even remotely similar to this. He knew that covens went to war. But none of them had ever started a war with the family. Judas was new to the vampire business, only about two centuries old. But he was a natural leader and he knew how to command his people. They gladly followed him and, for that reason alone, Judas and his clan posed a serious threat. Not only to the supernatural community, but to the mortal community, as well.

If Judas had his way and started a full war between two of the covens, it would escalate and take innocent lives all around. The mortals wouldn't stand a chance against an army of full-fledged vampires raging on bloodlust. And any member of the supernatural community who got in the way of the war would end up a casualty. Oh, they could hold their own for a short time. But superior strength and the mindless rage of a vampire craving blood would finally see them beaten. There was no way, if it were possible, that MacKenzie could allow that to happen.

"Well, Templer.What are we doing to do?" Ginger demanded, breaking into Mac's thoughts. The gathered Officers broke out in soft murmurs, though everyone could hear what everyone else was saying. Sitting in his throne, Templer remained silent and watched them for a time. He seemed to be thinking, lost in deep thought. That was a frightening idea and Mac was suddenly afraid of what their leader was about to say. After serveral moments, a slow smile spread across Templer's face.

"We will continue negotiations with Judas and his people," Templer told them all pleasantly.

"While his people attack us? And we have to sit and do nothing because you want to negotiate?" Kreegan asked snidely.

"His people will not attack because we won't have given him any motive. In fact, we'll know things he doesn't want us to know," Templer announced. Mac felt a chill pass along his spine. He suddenly had a very bad feeling he knew where this was going.

"What do you mean?" Feral looked as if he was now interested.

"I have a plan," Templer told them. Mac frowned. He knew what was happening and he didn't want it to happen. He couldn't voice his wants, though, because then Templer would demand to know the whys of it all. And that was something Mac couldn't explain. No matter what.

"And what is this plan?" Dannal demanded, finally speaking for the first time. Dannal was the most reclusive of the Officers and barely ever spoke. Mac knew he'd been some kind of war-lord a few centuries past in a small country that no one had ever heard of. He was normally silent at meetings. Things were bad if he were now asking questions.

"There is a mortal woman who can get into the minds of people. She can attend our next meeting with Judas' representatives and she'll be able to tell us what they're thinking. She's our defense against anything that Judas plans," Templer told them. Mac hid his frown and kept the look on his face blank. He was completely against this. Templer would use Kat, then throw her away like a piece of rubbish when he was done with her.

"A mortal woman?" Dannal looked skeptical. "What good will a mortal woman be to us? Mortals are little more than food."

"Her use is in her ablity to read minds. She can sift through our enemies thoughts and tell us what they know about Judas' plans."

"What woman is this?" Kreegan sounded as disbelieving as Dannal looked.

"Our good friend MacKenzie is looking out for her. He'll bring her to our next meeting with Judas' people. And we'll have an advantage over them because of her," Templer sat back in his chair, watching the gathered people with a glitter in his eyes. Low murmurs broke out again and soon, each of the Officers was talking about the prospect of what a mind reading mortal could do for them with a little bit of hope in their voices.

Mac frowned as he watched them all. This did not bode well for Katya. Not at all.

~*~*~*~*~

Drum heard the door knob turn, even though he was in the living room and the front entrance was three rooms away. It was nearing dawn, so Mac wouldn't be up for much longer. He had to tackle the problem now. He stood as he tracked the sounds of Mac's purposely loud footsteps upon the floor. They were coming his way, which was good. If Drum had to chase Mac down, it would only be worse. For the both of them.

The smell of anger entered the room before Mac did and that put Drum on edge. He hadn't ever known his friend to allow himself to get so angry that it was evident without looking at his face. That meant that, whatever had happened tonight, had not been very pleasant. Drum waited in silent patience. It was only a moment or two longer before Mac stepped into the room. His face was blank, telling Drum that Mac had withdrawn into himself in deep thought. It was worse than he thought.

"Mac?" Drum questioned softly after several long moments of silence passed by. The vampire lifted his head and stared at Drum blankly for several more long moments, then blinked and seemingly came back to himself. "What the hell happened tonight?"

"Judas wants to start a war with the family," Mac finally spoke. His voice was a low whisper and, had Drum not had the extra-sensitive hearing that a shifter was gifted with, he never would have heard his friend speak. He frowned as it sank in.

"War? Judas is an upstart next to Templer. He's young and still developing his power base," Drum replied, sounding as shocked as Mac was sure he felt.

"He is smart and he knows just how to work Templer into a frenzy. To make him careless and stupid. If Judas accomplishes this, Templer will do something rash and foolish and the family will fall," Mac sighed heavily.

"How do you plan on keeping that from happening?" Drum asked, momentarily forgetting why he had been waiting for Mac to return in the first place.

"I would like to see Templer's days on this earth ended. Sadly, I cannot do that without risking more than I am willing to give up," Mac shook his head. He went silent and Drum watched him for a few seconds before he laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"There's more, isn't there? Tell me what the hell is going on," he ordered tersely. A knot of fear was forming in his belly, making every muscle in his body tense with the overwhelming need to run and hide. Drum wasn't one to give in to fear. He was the sort to reason things out and find ways to solve the problem. But the look on Mac's face, the tone of his voice, made Drum very afraid.

"Templer wants me to take Katya to him tomorrow night. He wants to use her," Mac spat the words out angrily. Drum actually drew back a few feet before catching himself. There was such a look of intense hatred on Mac's face. It was a look that Drum had never before seen his friend sport. He knew that Mac had sworn a very long time ago to act out of logic, not out of emotion. For the man to react to a command in such a way was practically unheard of.

"Use her? How? I don't think I understand," Drum shook his head.

"Katya can use her mind to speak to people. She did so the night she was attacked and it is what saved her. She called out and Gus heard her. He and Niki were nearby and Gus rescued her from death."

"Gus should have let her die," Drum muttered, then the reason he'd been waiting for Mac came back to him. "It would be better than watching her suffer through the pain of the attack. Or watching her freak out because she thinks she's losing her fucking mind."

"Templer plans on having her present during meetings with Judas' people so she can try to read their minds and see what they are planning to use as attacks against us," Mac went on as if Drum hadn't spoke. Drum stopped and stared.

"That crazy son of a bitch wants to put a mortal woman who's scared shitless and reeks of shapeling in a room full of vampires? Who's going to protect her? You can't be the only one, Mac. With that many vamps in one room, they'll be able to overpower you. She's dead meat."

"You think I do not know this?" Mac shot back, his voice rising with his anger. "I am the last person who wishes to see anything happen to Katya. She has already suffered much! Templer will only see her suffer more!"

"Speaking of suffering, Mac..." Drum sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. There must have been something in the tone of his voice, because MacKenzie went silent and brought his up to mee the troubled one in Drum's green eyes. "She needs to know."

"No."

"Mac, she thinks she's going crazy. She tried to..."

"I will not tell her. She is already fragile. To know this would surely drive her over the edge of sanity," Mac replied.

"She's already teetering on that edge, Mac. She tried to seduce me last night. And then, when she realized what she was doing, she withdrew from me. She hasn't spoken to me all day. She refused to come out of her room and she didn't touch a god damned thing I left for her to eat. She's already dreaming and the dream she had the night before scared the living shit out of her," Drum explained.
"You have to tell her!"

"I will not tell her, damn it! She will hate me for what I have done to her!" Mac shouted. Then he collapsed back against the chair he was sitting in. "And I could not bear it if she hated me."

"She'll hate you if you don't tell her and she finds out from some one else. You have to tell her," Mac said gently, then lifted his head. MacKenzie sat up straight, his head slowly turning to look at the entry way. Both of them had heard the soft footsteps upon the stairs. There was a slow, rhythmic heartbeat that accompanied the muffled padding of bare feet upon the carpeting. A faint scent of fear accompanied the heartbeat and steps. Katya was awake and coming toward them. "Tell her," Drum whispered.

"I heard voices," Kat said as she stepped into the room. The light blinded her a moment and she lifted a hand to cover her eyes. The light wasn't all that bright, but she'd been ensconced in darkness all day long and it was bright enough. Her clothes were rumpled and askew, her hair mussed. Sleep still clung to her eyes. She stopped and looked at both of them. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."

"You are not intruding, Katya. Please come in and sit," MacKenzie stood and moved to her side, escorting her into a nearby chair. She seemed to almost collapse into it. Her head tilted down and her hair fell forward to hide her face from the two men. The vampire glanced up at the shifter and frowned. Drum made a motion with his hand.

"I wanted to apologize to you, Drummond. I've been so rotten to you today. And I'm sorry," Kat whispered, afraid to look at the two of them. She'd spent all day seeing that dream over and over again. Both in her sleep and while she was awake. It frightened her, because she could actually feel everything that had happened. She could still taste the blood. It had seemed to real. And she still wanted Drum. She was confused and afraid and she didn't know what the hell was happening to her.

"Kat, there's nothing to apologize for. I told you last night that what happened wasn't your fault. And that's the truth," Drum said softly.

"Katya, we must talk. There are things I must tell you," Mac said quietly, bringing her head up. It was then he noticed just how pale she had become. He wondered if that had come from the pain she suffered or his treatment of said pain. She nodded silently, waiting for him to continue. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then turned to look at the window. "There is no time tonight. I must seek my bed before the sun rises. I will tell you all tomorrow. This, I swear."

"Mac?" she asked, confusion and fear in her voice. He smiled at her, then turned and headed for the door. He was gone in a matter of moments and she turned wide eyes to Drum. He offered her a faint grimace of a smile and shrugged. "What does he need to talk to me about?"

"That's for him to tell. Not me. Come along and let me escort you to bed. You look as if you can use some rest," he said then stood and offered her his hand. She stared up at him a moment, then allowed him to help her to her feet and then lead her back to her room. She didn't want to sleep. Not if the dream came to her again. But she was soon standing next to her bed and Drum was dropping a platonic good night kiss on her forehead. Then he was gone and she was alone with her thoughts.

Katya, we must talk. There are things I must tell you. Mac's voice echoed loudly in her head long after she'd turned out the lights and climbed into bed. It was a long time before she drifted off into a fitfull sleep.

end chapter eight.
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as always, i must thank my support group. they know who they are and they have to know by now that i owe so much to them. if not for them, i probably wouldn't be writing at this point.i love them all bunches. huggles to them all.

please forgive any errors contained in this chapter. i am my own beta and, while i try to keep track of what i'm doing, i am only human. the gods and i are still arguing about that one. but for now.... here i am. if you find mistakes, please don't hurt me.

and finally, if you liked this, please feel free to let me know.

to Anon: i'm glad you're enjoying this and i'm honored that you would read my offering, given that you don't read things with this kind of violence and sex. i will warn you that the sex will, in future chapters, become more graphic. this story is, in some ways, hard for me to write because this is entirely all my baby. everything comes from my mind. and i want it to be good. not that i don't want any of my fan fiction to be good. but this especially. it can get discouraging when i only get one or two reviews a chapter, but i do update so infrequently so i can understand. some people likely think i've given it up. rest assured i haven't. i've just been busy with so many other things. i get all these little plot bunnies and they distract me from time to time. but it do intend to finish this, as well as anything else i've written. so please just bear with me.

to DarkTigress: i'm so glad that you think this is a great story. i hope you continue reading and enjoying.