Pre-Dawn Conversations Who: Rhiannon, Cian What: Catching Up When: Early Morning Where: Cian’s Place Ratings: Low
It was 2am when Rhiannon unlocked the front entrance of Cian’s house and crept inside. The door closed with a rush of wintry air and a muted click. Her fingers undid the tight laces of her boots and she slipped them off her feet, taking time to line up the soles next to his discarded shoes. The zipper of her leather jacket was eased down. She hung it and began the short trek towards the were’s bedroom, picking her way through his home in the dim light. As Rhiannon walked, she worked an elastic band out of her hair and tucked it in her pocket, then gave her long, dark hair a finger comb to ease the tension of her scalp.
At the foot of the bed, the hunter took off her weapons and necklace, which she stretched on a flat surface. She worked her jeans down her legs and took them off as quietly as she could, along with her socks and bra, so that she could slide in beside him. It was a rare occasion when she could make it to Cian’s threshold without him sensing her and waking up, but if she could avoid disrupting him, it was worth a try. They lived on opposite schedules sometimes, with him rising early to take care of jobs at the marina, and her staying up late to chase things around in the dark.
The sheets were warm from his body heat. Rhiannon’s cheek found the cool pillow, but the rest of her was relieved to sink into the comfort of an occupied bed. She was wide awake but sometimes his slow, even breathing would soothe her into a place where she could drift off.
Cian had only been asleep a short time before he sensed her near, but his tiredness kept him from waking fully. After an unusually full day at the marina he'd taken one of the small runabouts and motored downriver where he'd pulled into Rams Head Cove. Pulling the boat up off the waterline he'd shifted and headed across to Spirit Mountain and the canyon. Along with having Gabe strengthen the protections and wards, it was something he'd started doing more regularly since the strange creatures had risen and attacked the town and Cove.
He moved to accommodate her more closely, an arm extending, knee bending as he tucked her closer. Just the scent of her skin and her pulse let him know generally how her night had been. His head turned and lips pressed a kiss to her forehead in silent greeting.
The longer they were together, the more Cian’s body felt like an extension of hers, always finding a way to interlock so that Rhiannon melted into the hollow places. It was hard to remember the first night she spent in his bedroom, exhausted but unable to relax enough to sleep next to him for more than short spans of time. “Hey,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. Her fingers wound into the blonde hair at the base of his skull. “One day, I’ll get in without waking you up.” She smiled.
It had been a good night. Rhiannon had taken out a vampire she’d been hunting for a month, the kill not physically draining because she’d staked him from a distance and set fire to the corpse, but a mental victory. It hadn’t come to her through any hunting back channels. It was her own personal grudge match with a vampire with a higher IQ than most, who always seemed to know when she was coming. Now that it was over, she could put a tick in that box and move on.
The corners of Cian's mouth curled up. "Better check m' pulse if that happens," he murmured, the soft throated voice almost sounding like a purr.
After their road trip to Mt Hood he'd felt a contentment that was at first slightly scary, but finally gave him a greater sense of surety. Not in what was between them, because that had been set across a silver threshold years earlier in another city, and time. It wasn't to do with place either, that they were in Searchlight together, it had served as the turning point. Their bond was not linked to any one thing or place, it was something that existed on a level that was beyond explanation and the road trip had given them the space to acknowledge it without the 'fog' of daily life and responsibilities to dull the clarity.
"You got him," he said softly, smiling, the simple statement applauding her win, acknowledging the achievement, congratulating the 'hunter'. His faith in her skill and abilities had put to rest the concern he felt many months earlier, when he'd considered suggesting they team up. Quickly they'd reached a point where they were on a wavelength that meant her plans, and their outcomes, could be discussed in detail, and the resulting victories and frustrations shared in a similar fashion. After the first few months of his waking as soon as her vehicle approached he'd learned her scent so acutely he could now tell the level of success as soon as she walked in the door.
The upward tilt of her mouth would be felt against Cian’s chest. “Mmhm. He figured it out about a second before I ruined his shirt.” No further detail was needed unless he wanted it. The two of them could talk shop in any environment, from the breakfast table to the car, or while one of them was showering off and the other brushing their teeth, but climbing into bed and waking Cian up didn’t seem the best time to talk impalement.
Rhiannon lifted her head and rested her chin on him. A lazy fingertip traced the outline of his ear and down his jaw. In the dark, she could make out the planes of his features. “What time did you go to bed?”
"Bedtime," he replied in a low rumble, his lips curling into a sleepy smile. It was a standard response, coined when he had started learning to control his shift between lunar cycles back home. Prowling the moors at night Siofra'd be sure to return before the dawn would lighten the eastern skies, Annie asking him the same question when he would finally make an appearance the next morning. Time had become something that was measured not by the rotation of hands on a dial, but instead by the visible face of the lunar body overhead.
"Not long ago," he added after a momentary pause.
The tired timbre of his voice was one of her favorite things. An intimacy. Rhiannon negotiated with the covers and put her hand underneath, down on the musculature of his thigh. It wasn’t overt, just a gentle, exploratory touch from a set of fingers that looked delicate, but could do so much damage. When they met, she had checked out the outline of his quadriceps through his jeans. As a hunter and a fighter, they fascinated her. “I should let you get back to it, huh?” She kissed her fingertips and touched his mouth. Rhiannon pivoted onto her side, facing away from him, and curled a knee towards her stomach. “Night, Cian.”
As she settled he rolled also, his body wrapping around her, as a ribcage encompasses and protects its core, the organs essential for existence.
The chilled morning air seeped from behind the curtains, the hour before the dawn always the coldest. Even as his awareness slowly focused on sounds surrounding the cabin his consciousness became centred on the warm cocoon in which they were encased. The slightest shift of his head allowed his lips to press against the shoulder in front of him, as his eyes slowly opened. Thanks to the faint diffused predawn light filtering through the crack between the curtains and the wall he could see the curve of her shoulder and the light smattering of familiar freckles that spread across her skin.
As he lay there, his eyes mapping each contour and mark, curve and shadow, he thought about what he’d found out near the canyon, on his check the previous evening. While the canyon itself was almost impossible to locate from the ground, what he’d found was indications of someone using a drone. Scuff marks in the soil, the scent of the tiny but powerful electric motors all indicated that people were there exploring in ways that hadn’t been available before, and he had no idea of how long it might be before someone happened across the sacred, hidden location.
Coasting on just over four hours of sleep, Rhiannon was slower to wake when Cian stirred at her back. “Mmmf.” It was more groan of mild complaint than language. She would never understand morning people, but she wasn’t built to, either. God help her if vampires ever started churning out daywalkers. The first urge was to tug the covers over her head and go back to sleep, but after a few seconds, she remembered that Cian might soon have places to be and if they were going to have a few moments to themselves first, she needed to get herself roused.
The hunter rubbed at her eyes, then reached behind herself to cradle his head within the stretch between her shoulder and wrist. “Hey, baby,” she greeted. Rhiannon turned her head and kissed whatever was closest, which happened to be his cheek.
“Hey yourself,” he responded, a comfortable routine they’d developed. His upper arm slipped around her, holding her up against him as he nuzzled her ear and the neck beneath it. “Anything you need done today?” he asked. This was also now a sort of routine, whether it was getting the car serviced, or getting something from the store, if she wanted, or needed more sleep she would tell him what needed to be done. Given her ‘victory’ he figured there might be something, so she could celebrate with sleep.
She thought about it, doing a mental inventory of her life. “No. Just going to work after lunch.” Rhiannon enjoyed the physical contact a bit longer, then carefully extracted herself enough to sit upright against the headboard and pillow before sleep lulled her back. She finger-combed the worst of the tangles out of her hair. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up for a few days. I’ll make some coffee and we can talk if you’ve got time. I can talk through a shower curtain.” Either way, she was going to make some caffeine. She’d need a cup just to drive herself to her own bed later, if she decided to go back to sleep. Rhiannon gave him a quick kiss, grabbed her jeans and socks, and went down the hallway in her shirt and underwear, trying not to notice the cool draft.
A few moments later, the pot gurgled to life. Rhiannon slipped into a bottom layer of clothes, then set out two mugs, trying to resist robbing the pot. While she waited, she distracted herself by flipping over and making a messy bun on top of her head.
After a quick visit to the shower Cian pulled on jeans and socks, the cool air giving him a smattering of goosebumps, but the were enjoying the cool feeling on his skin. When he found his girlfriend almost upside down in the kitchen he stopped, a bemused smile on his face, as he watched her wrangle her hair into submission.
“All good?” he queried as she straightened up.
“Yeah.” Rhiannon straightened, cheeks pink from the blood rush. She poured each of them a cup of coffee. It wasn’t the best idea to take an immediate sip of steaming liquid, but when had she ever let wisdom stop her? She passed the dish into his hand. As her tongue and esophagus protested, she nursed the first bit of morning caffeine around the same time that sunlight began to stream into the windows. “So what’s new?” Casually, as though there was nothing of particular importance on her mind. It was best to dip a toe into conversation rather than diving right for the deep end. The scent of his soap wafted past her nose.
Cian took the mug and sniffed at the tendrils of steam rising from the contents before taking a small sip. The sting of the heat eased slowly as it was swallowed. He crossed to where he could lean against the bench before taking another sip and lowering the mug to the bench. “I took another run out to the canyon last night,” he said, a small frown already puckering his forehead as he thought back over what he’d found.
Rhiannon knew of the canyon, its history, the significance of the place, both to the ancestral guardians and the Marks family to whom the stewardship had been transferred. But she’d never been there, inside the canyon, her respect for the secrecy and protection of such a place more than enough that she had never even asked. She knew roughly its location, in Spirit Mountain, and they’d run in that area, but the entrance remained hidden.
With his hands propped either side of him he continued. “There’s been people up there. And not just the regular hikers, people with drones,” he told her. “Might be nothing, might be just some of those enthusiasts who are flying them outside the restricted zones,” he continued, thoughts he’d had to try and explain why anyone would go that far up the mountain to launch them.
Rhiannon’s blood wasn’t tied to land. Her family, at least the Corrigan side, went where the hunt took them. As far as she knew, the Lees weren’t tied to a particular spot, either, except by their mortgages. She couldn’t fully grasp Cian and the Marks family’s ties to an indiginous people’s land, and she didn’t know its secrets, but she knew before he started talking that the intrusion bothered him. “Who owns it?” she asked. “On paper, I mean. Is it the Bureau of Land Management?” Hikers and drones could signal anything, from random exploration, to science, to development. It could even mean exploitation of the canyon’s lesser known properties by well-funded practitioners.
“Yeah, it’s all a national park from here down through there and up to the dam,” he confirmed. “And these drones weren’t the toy type, they’re bigger, more commercial sized. Or at least that’s what they smelt like,” he added. He’d become familiar with the electronics and smells both down south and again up at the Cove, with plenty of families having brought them with them. Most were just the ‘toy’ variety, but some had the more serious gear. “I don’t know what it means, if they're surveyors they could be just scoping out the place,” he added, “I just don’t know how much longer it will remain protected.” He picked up his coffee and took a larger swallow, and cleared his throat, giving her a smile.
“If it’s a national park and it’s remote…” Rhiannon trailed off, unsure what development would be legal there, or even desirable. The shrug displayed her uncertainty. “At least if it's the government, and it’s above board, you should be able to look it up.” She frowned. “That should still be in Clark County. Someone with the police or the feds might be in the know, or be able to look into it.”
Cian nodded, but not knowing anyone in either of those organisations he didn't really know who to ask. "I'll ask Mikey to look it up, given he's usually on a computer at some stage of every day." He also had the intimate knowledge of where the canyon was to know where to look too, knowing the location just as well as Cian did.
He grinned as he remembered a suggestion Gabe had made, jokingly, when he'd helped with the strengthening of the protection spells and wards. "So long as it's not one of those mobs looking for a prime location for a movie shoot or something."
The mob was in the film business? Cian was smiling, but Rhiannon just blinked and shook her head. “It’s too early for me to understand humor,” she concluded and took a few more sips of coffee. The heat on its way to her stomach was reassuring.
“I have something to tell you, too,” she said. “Two things.” The first of them required her phone, so she went over to her coat and pulled the cell phone out of her pocket. Rhiannon pulled up the local news and went to stand closer to Cian in case he wants to reference it. “Okay. There’s nothing officially linking these cases except rumors, but a group of three witches got killed in East Las Vegas about two weeks ago. The homeowner worked in an occult-related book store. Then this week, a girl at the university was found dead, and the school said she was a member of… something that sounded familiar. Here it is. The Triple Moon Society. That’s maiden, mother, and crone, right? Also in East Las Vegas. I didn’t know if you wanted to give Gabe a head’s up.”
Cian's former frown of puzzlement deepened to concern as he quickly read the articles Rhiannon showed him. He nodded, the society very familiar to him having heard of it from his mother, then being taught about it by Annie and Oonagh. "I'll give him a call in a little while," he replied after glancing at the railway clock on the cabin wall and noting it was probably still a little early. Gabe was more inclined to 'travel' at night of late.
Still frowning he looked at her. "What was the other thing?"
Rhiannon tucked the device in her hip pocket. She leaned against the counter by the sink and felt cool moisture seeping into her shirt. She must have spilled some water filling the pot. The hunter raised her eyebrows at him briefly. “I made the deal,” she began, knowing that Cian would swiftly pick up on what she was putting down. “I summoned her the other night and we went over the terms and we agreed. So far no targets. I just wanted to tell you in person.”
They had known each other long enough now for Rhiannon to see how much he valued a face over a voice on a phone line. Plus, she wanted him to see that she was okay.
Cian swallowed, then when she finished he nodded slowly. "Okay," he replied simply, looking at her then down into his coffee before taking another large swallow. The sensation in the pit of his stomach was as unfamiliar to him as her new 'partner' in this deal, and he didn't know how to feel about it. So instead he drained the rest of the coffee in the mug before finally asking, "How will you know about a target?"
Rhiannon’s fingers wandered to the handle of her mug where it rested on the countertop. She rubbed a thumb over the curve of it. “She seems fond of sending signals,” she said, thinking of the knife standing on its tip in her kitchen. “Or she’ll just drop in. The thing with her is she’s not subtle.” Part of her wondered if she’d be greeted with a human messenger. The idea of that was chilling, as it implied that the Emissary was willing to share Rhiannon’s status elsewhere. “There’s um… there’s a weapon she gave me to help with it. I put it in the trunk in the living room. I couldn’t sleep with it near me.”
His head turned and he looked across the cabin, almost expecting to see the trunk there. He wasn't sure why he did it, and he looked back at her and nodded slowly. "Best spot for it," he conceded. "What is it?"
“It’s a dagger,” she said, her eyes losing focus as she pictured it. “The blade is green and it moves like fire. Whenever I use it, they’ll burn away.” Rhiannon felt that it was the sort of thing better seen than explained, but she also didn’t hope to find herself wielding it around Cian often, if ever. It wasn’t an everyday dagger for an everyday kill. “At least I won’t have to worry about clean-up.”
The brunette approached Cian and rose to kiss his cheek gently. “It’s okay. Only our mutual enemies. If it’s too much and I need to back out, I can. And if something seems off, you’ll tell me. Anam Cara.”
He nodded, and huffed a soft laugh. The simple mention of their 'catch phrase' did make him feel a little better about the news. He didn't know what to expect from this Elfleda, and he had no idea what type of 'targets' she would provide the hunter, but he did know he would have Rhiannon's back.
His arms went around her waist and he returned the kiss, pressing his mouth first to her cheek then trailing down to her mouth. "...m' anam cara...."
Rhiannon smiled against his mouth and then kissed him back, softly at first and then with more insistence, the way she’d kiss him if they had plenty of time and he didn’t have to head off to work and her to a shower twenty minutes up the road. It would just have to be a promise for later. “Mm. Mutual coffee breath,” she said at his lips. Rhiannon retreated reluctantly. “I love you. Next time I’ll get here earlier.”
“Don’t make promises unless you’re sure you can keep ‘em!” he grinned as she retreated, folding his arms across his chest to keep his hands from reaching out for her.
Rhiannon put a hand on an imaginary Bible and another in the air. “I solemnly swear that I will be here early enough to drag you to bed next time.” She picked up her coffee mug and wandered towards the bedroom in search of the rest of her things.