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I can hear them screaming; Dione Castel ([info]audiomorbid) wrote in [info]nosuchplace,
@ 2009-05-20 23:57:00

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Entry tags:danté donovan, dione castel

Saturday; January 26, 2008
Who: Dione and Dante
When: Evening
Where: The Wine Bar
What: Dione's back at the piano, her usual station.

Dione's routine had returned to something close to normal since her minor meltdown for Christmas. It was still a matter of walking into town and seeing people, making her way to the bar and taking up residence at the piano to play whatever struck her fancy. Occasionally Sheldon would take a break from the bar and join her, sitting shoulder to shoulder, assisting when he wanted but mostly just making conversation as she played. Dione didn't always answer him back because a lot sheldon's conversation didn't so much require her to answer as it required her to nod in the appropriate places to let him know she was indeed still listening and paying attention to the words that came out of his mouth. She'd learned to like his accent and didn't even mind his strange sense of humor so much anymore. She still for the most part didn't get it, but whether or not she got it wasn't the important part of the conversation. The important part was that he was talking to her and it was pleasant.

Tonight was a similar night in that she found herself settled at the piano and the soft strains of music floated out from her instrument to those in the room. There were rumors floating about in the air. Snippets of things she took little stock in. Dione didn't know enough people on her own to have any idea who most of the people were others talked about.

Her hair pinned up off her shoulders, she was dressed down in a simple black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Even still she managed to make it somehow look more elegant than one would normally. Maybe it was just the juxtaposition of a beautiful woman with an impressive instrument, it was hard to tell usually. Dione did have a self-possession when with the piano she didn't have anywhere else. Her jacket and cane were settled on the bench beside her, she never liked for them to go far; after all, there was no telling how long she would stay.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-05-22 09:05 pm UTC (link)
Dante had been around those nights that Dione had taken residence at the piano. He had spied Sheldon sitting next to her from time to time, talking, and telling jokes, but nothing more. It was enough to save the bartender from the werewolf's wrath for now.

Why didn't he go to sit with Dione during those times? What had stopped him from making his presence known to the blind girl? His mind was slowly losing its already frail grip with reality, and he had been spending a lot of time reigning in the darker fragments of his mind. Tonight though, tonight he would approach the medium, and he would pull her further into his world. While he admired strong women who resisted him, there was something to be said about those who willingly became entangled in his deceit. Not that Dione knew any better, but he wasn't going to reveal that to her either.

Dante moved from his spot on the other side of the Wine Bar, and approached Dione with careful steps. He was an animal stalking its prey; the only difference here is he wouldn't attack out in the open. He sat down next to her on the piano, and pressed his shoulder against hers. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me," he said in a charming voice.

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reposting, I wasn't satisfied
[info]audiomorbid
2009-05-22 11:58 pm UTC (link)
Her holiday had been extremely difficult and Dione had found herself thinking about Dante on and off throughout her time away from everyone. She enjoyed his company and wished for the courage to actually seek him out at some point. It seemed as if he were always the one who sought her out. His sudden appearance surprised her a little, probably because she wasn’t expecting him. Dione had expected Sheldon to come and tell her some story about the things going on in the bar. Things that she had little interest in. There was the rumor going around about one of the therianthropes having been attacked and someone even being arrested for it. Dione heard others talking about it. They also talked about something called an Arts and Trades Enclave.

They had been talking about that for a little while now, on and off, but something was happening that evening. However, from what she’d heard, this thing was a long way from the city itself. Dione certainly couldn’t try to go there alone.

Her surprise was easily swallowed by her wish to see him. “Avoiding you,” Dione chuckled at the very thought. “Hardly, mon coeur.” She turned to look at him with sightless eyes, fingers still tripping carefully across the keys. “I had a difficult holiday was all.” Why did she see the need to explain where she had been to him? Perhaps because she didn’t want him to keep the misconception of her actively trying not to be around him. Dione wanted to be around Dante, missed him when he was not about. “I was hoping you would be around soon. Have you been all right?”

mon coeur = my heart

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-06-03 04:50 pm UTC (link)
She continued to play the nameless tune on the piano. It was nameless to Dante at least; he wasn't all that cultured when it came to musical pieces. Dante watched her fingers moving over the keys, pressing alternately between white and black to produce a melody that floated with ease through the din of the crowd. It was soothing to the beast, though that same beast wondered what sort of sound the girl would make should he break those delicate digits.

"Well that's good to hear," he said. "I'd be heartbroken if you were." He chuckled, but it died down quickly when she said she had a difficult holiday. Dante really didn't care all that much, but he had to pretend to keep up the facade. "Was it difficult because of your family? I know how you feel... I'm sorry." Dante didn't have any sort of feelings other than jealousy and rage. Even though he pretended to be caring and sincere it did not mean that he had ever experienced those emotions in his entire life. "I should have come to see you sooner." He leaned in toward her ear. "I could have kept you company."

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-06-03 08:29 pm UTC (link)
Her hands were the only part of Dione's anatomy she really didn't see herself as being able to live without. There were the obvious things like heart and lungs, but those were a given with any person. There were those who could live without their hands. Dione couldn't live without her hands. At that point, she would want to have her throat cut. The world had already taken her eyes. It could not have her hands.

"It's my first real holiday without them," she admitted. Even her brother's company had not been enough to help her get out of her house during that time. Then Sheldon had come by and essentially required her to get up and deal with him.

His closeness made her slow down, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Why he had such an effect on her, she didn't know, but he had it. "Pity you were otherwise occupied," she breathed. "I'd have preferred your company."

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-06-09 06:01 pm UTC (link)
Dante could easily arrange Dione's death if she really wanted it, but it was a bit anti-climatic to kill someone who had no desire to live. Those who begged for their lives, who tried their damnedest to survive were the ones that made killing all the more sweet. Like nectar to a god it was the one thing that was able to satiate Dante's inner demons. But he had other plans for the medium, plans that would be set in motion very very soon.

He placed his hand on her knee carefully. "Mine, too," he lied. "I don't even know if they're alive or dead." Not that Dante cared about them. He left them long ago, and he never looked back. "It's hard, but at least we're not alone here, right?" Dante's act required him to hold her hand at this point, but she was busy using them to play the piano. So his hand stayed on her knee, and he moved in just a tad closer.

"I think your company would have been wonderful," he said softly. "Maybe it's not too late for us to spend some time together?"

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-06-09 08:54 pm UTC (link)
"Mine are dead," Dione knew that with complete and utter certainty. She'd felt each of them pass on, first her brother, then her mother, and finally her father. Each time she'd denied it, but the evidence of their absence was easy enough for even the blind to see. "At least you can hold some hope."

Hope was a double-edged sword under the best of circumstances. Hope could make you hold on a second too long, forgive one time too many, believe one last lie. Dione all unknowing cradled a hope for happiness, a chance that something would go right and she wouldn't continue to be alone. Call it a bit of misplaced romanticism, all musicians had to have at least a little bit of it.

It was only years of training that kept her from being startled or missing a note when people touched her. The natural shyness Dione used as a shield against social interaction was utterly lost in the face of music.

"What was it you had in mind," that she was prepared to go along with his plans went without saying. The level of the song progressed, as was natural to the piece, into a darker, heavier sound almost like a gathering of storm with its low key rumble. It would return to being light and airy in a moment, but for now, the music seemed to brood over their plans.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-06-15 06:31 pm UTC (link)
Hope was a word that Dante didn't use very often. It was too positive of a word for the sociopath's vocabulary, and he couldn't recall ever having feelings that were positive. The only thing he felt was something that was like joy, and elation over witnessing life draining from a person's eyes. It was a feeling of utter power, and he could never get enough of it.

"I was thinking we could maybe grab a bite to eat, and then go back to my cottage." A finger twirled around a loose strand of her hair, and he had to admit that he too was getting drawn into his masquerade. Carnal pleasures, as it were, could satiate his darker desires for a short period of time. "No funny business." Another lie. "But I'd like to be alone with you without so many eyes watching us."

People were barely paying attention to her or Dante, and they wouldn't even notice she was gone until she stopped playing the notes she had memorized. That was his plan at least. If no one noticed she was gone, then no one would come looking for her. And he intended on keeping her occupied for a good portion of the evening.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-06-15 09:00 pm UTC (link)
He was so close, Dione couldn't help but notice exactly how close Dante was to her. Scent, even for sighted folks, was the strongest sense tied to memory and she could smell him. A smell that she associated with masculinity, though she could never have articulated that thought. Dione had only truly dealt with so many men in such close proximity to her on a regular basis. Her brother no longer had a scent, he was just a presence. Her father was still there, mostly as a smell of aftershave.

Over the ten years she'd been blinded, that scent had helped her to recognize him along with the sound of his voice to be certain of where he was.

Now he was a different scent, slightly intoxicating.

"Really?" She wasn't incredulous, but rather just mildly surprised. It was still hard to think abut him being interested in her that way. So it still crept into her voice occasionally. "I still owe you a song," she remembered. "A Metallica song. Or perhaps that can wait for later?"

It helped to cover her nervousness toward the idea of being alone with him. A house date was something she'd never really considered.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-06-19 06:41 pm UTC (link)
It was always Dante's intention to be intoxicating to women. It made his work a lot easier in the end when they didn't struggle against his suggestions. He wasn't always lucky; there were women who had a natural instinct to stay away from him. Women like Adrienne who were able to sense that he was up to something dastardly.

He chuckled, and released her hair from his finger. "Yes, really," he replied. He could hear her surprise, and that alone brought a smile to his face. Dione was surprised, and yet she still accepted his invitation. "Songs can wait for later." Dante didn't want to stay in the Wine Bar any longer than he had to. "If you have a piano at your home you can play for me there." There were other things that Dante was interested in playing with, but he didn't reveal that to the blind medium.

"Shall we head to the restaurant?" He extended a hand out to her in invitation. She couldn't see it, but perhaps she was the type of girl who could just tell that he was making that gesture. "The sooner we go, the sooner we can spend time at your house." No one was watching them now, and it was the best time to leave the wine bar.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-06-20 04:32 pm UTC (link)
She was caught up in him like she often was with her music...forgetting about the world beyond it. All that mattered was the feeling of the keys under her fingers or his closeness, it was a strange thing for her to realize and Dione couldn't have found the words to talk about it even if someone supplied them for her.

Admit it or not, she needed both.

Dante reached out to her and she slipped away from the piano enough touch him, fingers along his palm even as her other hand took up her jacket and her cane, her security blanket.

"We should," she accepted his deal.

shall we skip the restaurant bit?

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-07-01 02:43 am UTC (link)
Dante escorted Dione out of the Wine Bar, and took her to the restaurant. He made certain to put on his charms though he was confident he didn't need them anymore. Dione was so entangled in his game that she didn't realize that she was even in it. The werewolf kept the conversation light, and playful throughout their dinner. It might have looked like Dante was enjoying himself, and that his intentions were pure, but it was far from the truth. He despised having to go through these frivolous acts, and would have rather skipped it entirely. If only Dione could see the cold stare in his eyes she would not be so enamored with him.

Dinner took longer than expected, much to Dante's dismay. The lycanthrope crooked his arm for Dione, and started to lead her home. He knew perfectly well where she lived, but he acted like he didn't.

"Which way to your place?" It was odd having to ask a blind woman for directions, but it was necessary for her own comfort. She would have been alarmed had he took her home without any direction from her, and she would have suspected that Dante was not as innocent as he acted. "Unless you prefer to come back to my home?" Location didn't matter to Dante; he only wanted someplace private. No prying eyes, or anyone around to interrupt them. It was all that the demented lycanthrope needed.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-07-02 01:37 am UTC (link)
Dinner had been a slow affair, made only slower by the fact of how Dione ate. It was as always the matter of her working with her hands. It made things take longer, that was the long and short of it. It was so easy for people to be impatient with her over simple things because they were simple for them, but not simple for her. Finding someone so patient was usually hard to do.

"It's down at the Bungalows," she explained. "So if your place is closer, it would probably be easier to go there." Though of course there was always the fact that if they went to his place, he might have to walk her home later or she'd have to stay over since there was a curfew last she remembered. Granted, they could have lifted the curfew and she simply didn't remember. Dione paid attention to so few things that didn't immediately impact her. Curfews, regardless of their time, didn't really impact her a terrible lot in her own opinion. Hence why she didn't know.

"Or we can go to mine, if you want." Leave it to her to be indecisive. She wanted him to be happy with what they did, so she surrendered control of the situation to him. Wasn't that how it was supposed to work? Not that she had any frame of reference for how it was supposed to work. Naivete. Such a lovely thing.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-07-03 02:29 am UTC (link)
Naivete was lovely for someone like Dante. It allowed him to weave whatever story he wanted for the purpose of ensnaring his victim. He never got the chance to be this close with Adrienne; try as he might he just never found a way into her life until now. He was closer to her now than he was in the beginning, but he still didn't have her within his grasp. Dione was his distraction from her, one that started to grow into something more.

"I'll take you home," he offered as he steered her toward the bungalows. "I want you to be comfortable." The walk toward the waterfront residences was quiet, but Dante could feel a dark rumbling growing within his soul. Would he dare create another werewolf to add to his soon-to-be pack? Could he covet two females at once? There was no doubt that Adrienne would be the alpha female - her personality was much stronger than that of Dione's - but would the medium be happy with sharing his so-called affections? If she truly knew the monster that Dante was she would have none of him.

"You've got to tell me which one it is," he said after their walk to the bungalows. There were several houses to choose from, and though the werewolf knew which one was hers he did not let her know it. He did take her closer to it though; there was only so much more waiting that he could do before he went even more insane.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-07-03 03:10 am UTC (link)
"The road takes a minor dip. It's the one on the left right there," most feet wouldn't even notice the dip in the road. It felt as if it should be smooth, but Dione noticed because she walked the same path over and over again. She had to be able to find her own way home, so she'd learned various little geographical things to work as her own set of mental breadcrumbs. She knew, after months of practice, exactly what direction was required to take her to Helicharis and what would bring her home.

That only brought to mind her first encounter with Dante, when she'd gotten lost and ended up at the lagoon. Dione now actually knew it as a lagoon from listening and occasionally even talking to other residents. An interesting little tidbit to know...especially since there was no fence and walking into the water would probably be a quick way to drown.

As if that weren't enough, she'd also learned the specific sound the wood of her front step and door made when tapped on so that she could be sure she was at the right house. Not that she got to the wrong house very often, but occasionally such things did happen. Tonight, it didn't.

Her door wasn't locked, Dione had a hard time keeping track of keys so she had little use for them, especially in a place which was supposedly safe. The keyword of course was supposedly. Perhaps Dione was also being willfully mentally blind. Refusing to accept that very bad things could happen to people in this supposed safe haven.

"Living room," the front door issued into what was almost a foyer-ish area, but Dione considered it a part of the living room. There was only one real chair in the living room. A bench like thing near the window served as a second. There was a third chair in her bedroom, oddly set next to her bed as if someone would sit in it and watch her. That was Dexter's chair.

The ghost came to see who had come to the house and though he said nothing at all bristled at this person in their space. Still combating his own jealousy, Dexter chose to stay quiet. Unless Dante was another medium or like Irei a necromancer, it was unlikely he would even notice his presence. All the better to observe him without fear.

Dione herself moved into the living room and around the furniture there as if she could see it. Considering that she had arranged it, there was no surprise. Nor was it surprising she was particular about things being moved. After all, move something an inch and she'd probably fall over it instead of walking past it. She folded her cane up with easy motions and dropped it next to the chair in the living room.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-07-10 04:39 am UTC (link)
Dante didn't need all the little details that Dione gave him, but it was interesting to note the things that she noticed just by walking. A dip in the road here, a minor bump there, even the sound of her front porch. These were all details that other people would not have noticed. How interesting for her to notice those things, but to not even realize the type of man Dante truly was. There was no physical way of knowing whether or not someone was a psychopath. She couldn't feel the lines of his face, and instantly know what he was thinking. It didn't work like that, and that pleased the lycanthrope.

"You have a nice bungalow," he said as he watched her move carefully around the furniture. If Dante hadn't known she was blind he wouldn't have guessed she was just by her little demonstration. Her movements were fluid, like water. Very artistic, and oddly enough Dante held some appreciation for that. Sadly, that appreciation wasn't enough to deter the morbid thoughts running through his mind.

The advantage of targeting a blind woman was that Dante didn't have to go through his usual motions. Without sight Dione could not read his body language, and so many people measured a person by their body language alone. Little did the werewolf realize, however, was the presence of Dione's disembodied brother. For all of his enhanced senses Dante could not sense a spirit, and he did not realize that he was being watched.

He approached Dione, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Would you like to dance," he asked out of the blue. Her bungalow certainly had the open space for it.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-07-11 04:27 am UTC (link)
"Okay," Dione didn't dance on any kind of regular basis. However, dancing had an element of rhythm to it, so she could certainly learn what she needed to know quickly. "Your lead." The woman reached up and looped one hand around his wrist and turned around as if to look at him.

It made her smile, being comfortable with a person. Dione was so rarely comfortable with other people that this was wonderful.

Dexter moved into the living room. He didn't like this man. The more he watched, the less he liked. There was something wrong here. Something very wrong and all he wanted to know was how was it going wrong and could he stop it. Nothing could happen to Dione. He couldn't let anything happen to her. Panic welled up in him, but he kept his mouth firmly shut.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-07-16 10:15 pm UTC (link)
Time slowed to a standstill as Dante dance slowly along with Dione. He took the lead by holding her hand within his, and began to move slowly. Moments of silence overtook them as they danced along to imagined music. The lycanthrope didn't do anything too complicated - he just swayed back and forth while moving in a small circle. Their close proximity brought forth more of Dante's feral desires, and he pulled Dione even closer. There were a few times he glanced over his shoulder - he had the distinct feeling that someone was watching them, but he shook it off every time he saw that they were quite alone in the bungalow.

Alone. In the middle of the night. It all seemed too perfect, and Dante wasn't going to lose this moment. He intended to grab it by both hands and not let go.

"Do you know the story of Little Red Riding Hood, and the Big Bad Wolf," he asked quietly by her ear. He was still holding her ever so gently as to not raise any alarms in her head. As far as Dione would be concerned he was just going to retell an old children's story. There was nothing unusual about that, was there?

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-07-17 06:02 am UTC (link)
At least this was easy, Dante made things easy for her. He made her feel safe. Protected. Strong. Which she enjoyed immensely. Held close, she could smell him, feel the minute changes in his heartbeat through his body. Most people didn't seem to think about those things. How a person smells doesn't become of interest until they smell bad. Or their heartbeat unless they're frightened. Dione noticed those things without the extras, just noticed them, marked them, used them to become familiar with a person.

Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf? Dione tilted her head at the question, which actually pushed her to press her head against his shoulder, a bit confused by the question. "I know that story," her accent showed some as she spoke, probably a combination of the lateness of the hour and the level of comfort she felt around Dante. "Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?," there was a note of amusement there.

Dante and his looking around only made Dexter more suspicious. Did he know that he was there? Was he checking for exits? Or just to insure he was alone? God, he wished for a chance to do something, anything that would draw attention to him and let him get the fear out. Except, he couldn't affect anything. He couldn't stop what was occurring. He could only stand back and watch.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-07-17 10:32 pm UTC (link)
Things were easy for Dione because he wanted to give the girl a false sense of security. It made things easier for him in the end since it made the girl all the more willing to be close to him. In many ways her enhanced senses were like those of a werewolf - enhanced hearing, and olfactory senses were two of the primary things that made being a werewolf so advantageous. Dione was already honed in on those senses, Dante knew that she had to be with her blindness, and the idea of how acute they would be if she were a lycanthrope brought a smile to his face.

"Are you saying you want me to take you to bed," he asked as a smirk formed there on his lips. He didn't give her a chance to answer before he continued to tell his story - or nightmare - depending on how a person chose to look at it. "Little Red Riding Hood is really about any girl, anywhere, and how they should be wary of the advances of strange men they meet in the forest, or even when they're lost near a lagoon." His smirked turned wicked, a twisted transformation right there on his mouth. What followed were the beginnings of Dante's shift into a lycanthrope.

The muscles in his body tightened, and gained mass. Nails were slowly turning into claws, and teeth were being replaced by fangs. He could still speak normally, though Dione would no doubt notice the changes in his body. "How lucky I was to find you that day, Dione, and now I have something for you."

A short muzzle began to form, and the bones and muscles began to push through the muscles of his clothes. Speech wasn't possible anymore, and all that came from his throat was a growl that rumbled his entire chest. The werewolf's tongue snaked out of its mouth to lick the length of the girl's cheek. His fangs were already slick with saliva that occasionally dripped to the floor. His grip on the girl was tight before he decided to loosen it.

He would let her think that she had a chance of getting away before he swooped in to take that from her. She was a lovely subject, and he would enjoy making her his in the same way he enjoyed it with Adrienne.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-07-18 06:45 am UTC (link)
It would have been impossible for him not to hear the way her heart thudded in her chest as she felt things change around her. The story had been bad enough, the kind of thing that made her swallow hard and audibly. It helped nothing that Dexter's reaction was to scream at her to run. The sound of Dexter's voice, and the awareness that he was trying, desperately, to pull her away only made her turn her head to one side.

Dione was scared. She could feel a scream lodging in her throat, trying to escape past the lump that absolutely refused to go down enough for her to breathe properly.

Then his grip relaxed, if only minutely. For the space of a heartbeat, then two, Dione stood, all too aware of the way his saliva pearled down her cheek and then caught the curve of her chin to leave a stain on the neck of her t-shirt. Run. Dexter was screaming it. Every nerve in her body, reminded of every time a human being had ever been prey down through her evolutionary ancestry, was screaming along with him, RUN.

Finally with an uneasy slowness, she took a step back. Her eyes were wide with terror, but she couldn't seem to fix her limbs to run away. Instead, she brought her hand to her face, disturbing the marks of what could have been called an animal kiss. "You're not a stranger," it came out very quiet, a half-strangled whisper.

Dione, please run away, her brother wept their combined fear, but she didn't move. For whatever reason, she had chosen to stay in spite of the very real chance she was going to die. Dione welcomed that idea, dying. It meant reunion, safety, peace. An end to all the worry.

"It's all going to be okay now." Her French was flawless and once again, it seemed as though she were talking to herself.

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[info]darkdevotion
2009-07-22 10:36 pm UTC (link)
She didn't try to run, and she didn't try to fight, and that confused the lycanthrope. He let out a disgruntled growl, and his growing claws dug into her arms. The only disadvantage of this form was the fact that he could not speak, or incite more fear into his victims through his words.

Dione's body language told him that she welcomed whatever was going to happen, and that bothered Dante. She was supposed to fight. She was supposed to scream, and struggle from his grasp, but she did neither. His transformation halted, and began to reverse. He wanted to understand this, or else he'd go even more insane.

"Why-" he hissed, voice ragged since he was still in mid-lycan form. He shook his head, and tightened his grip even more on the girl. He shook her once, then twice, and then lifted his head to howl. "You. Mine." The dark voice in his mind was screaming for blood. The girl would not die; instead, she would become his if the virus took to her body.

In an instant he shifted far enough to form a muzzle with teeth sharp enough to pierce skin. Without a struggle there was no need for violence, and it took away all satisfaction from the act. He enjoyed getting close to his victims, but he loved it when they fought. He wanted to overtake them until they grew tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. It was the only way he could ensure that he had truly won. But that was not the case here. There was nothing to be won. Even with those reasons he could not back away from it now, and he turned his head to bite her on her shoulder. It was a nip compared to what he had inflicted on so many others before, but it was still big enough to leave a mark and to draw blood.

His mind was going crazy, spiraling into darkness even though the end result was what he had planned on all along. Dante let her go after a minute or two, and fled from the bungalow. He needed freedom, and wild abandon. He needed to exhibit his violence, and he couldn't do that here.

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[info]audiomorbid
2009-07-22 11:02 pm UTC (link)
Dione couldn't have fought him even if he'd specifically asked it of her. She'd built him up in her mind to the point where the very idea of doing something like that would have been nearly a sin. Anything he did was right and fine and if he wanted to kill her, she'd let it happen without so much as a second thought. Where he was concerned, perhaps the simplest thing to say was that she had gone insane. No one had shown her the kind of attention throughout her life she'd gotten from him. No one. And for that reason alone he was practically sanctified in her mind.

When he shook her, she brought her hands up to steady herself, feeling fur under her fingertips. This terror was real, but beyond her heart going so fast it might pop out and her breath coming in ragged, it seemed as if Dione was not terribly afraid of him. Man or Monster, it made no difference, she wanted to be with him. Her teeth rattled as he continued to shake her, but she simply dropped her chin and accepted what was to come.

Then he bit her and she bit her lip, frightened further by the pain but not willing to make a sound. No one would have heard, but she didn't want them to hear. If he was going to leave her here to die, she wanted no one to come. The teeth marks were obvious through her tshirt and they oozed blood, not very quickly at all.

Finally he let her go and her legs gave out beneath her. Dione laid there on her floor, curled into a ball, knowing that death wasn't going to come. Cheated of that, she wished he would have stayed. But she laid there quiet until she fell asleep.

Dexter watched it happen. Watched it and knew there was absolutely nothing he could do. She wouldn't listen to him. She fell asleep, the door still wide open, and he was just glad that by the time dawn came no one else had wandered inside to do worse than that monster had already done.

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