Private Tales Temptation

[Raziel]

"We could..." he hissed, neatly shifting his weight to block her escape. The chance of freeing her wrath from its prison of shame appealed to him. The carnage that would follow painted a vivid picture in his imagination.

"...or I could free you of your promise and by the end of the night bring you your Prince. You could choose was price he should pay..."

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie came up short when he moved in front of her and her breathing hitched. It was like he radiated sin and he was bringing it out in her. All those dark and twisted feelings that she buried inside her under layers and layers of uncaring, emotional detachment. Playing games, robbing people, it was all a game truly to keep her emotions in check. She tilted her head up so she could look him in the eyes.

"If you free me from my promise that means you would be free too," wariness crept across her face. This could all be a way for him to take a knife to her own flesh. She had won a year from him, but it might be hard won again. "Undoing a kingdom requires more thought and care than a night of torture," a slight shake of her curls. She wanted to rip it all down but if she just took out the head two would grow in its place and she would be an even more wanted woman.

 

[Raziel]

"But this wasn't about a kingdom," Raziel said. In truth the notion of it collapsing into chaos was motivation for him, but they were looking at hers.

"It is about you and what you deserve. You would enjoy it. Think of the satisfaction of hearing him beg for his life. He would apologise with every last breath until his last."

Raziel could already see that he had lost her. Even failure provided him amusement. There was so little left in this world that did.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie had never been good at learning when to stop playing with fire. She let the temptation simmer in her veins even though she had reached her own resolve. It was time to play with him.

"And you would help me? Keep your own promise not to hurt me?" her voice turned husky as she put a hand on his chest, walking her fingers slowly up the expanse of his shirt. She watched the progress slowly. "Help me slaughter guards, dance through a burning palace, help me bring him to his knees? Would you just watch or would you want to share my toy?" on her last words she looked up at him through her lashes as her fingers played with his cravat.

 

[Raziel]

His pulse raced as she seemed to start to come around to the idea. Raziel wasn't quite sure if she really was entertaining the idea, humouring him or trying to think of a scheme to outwit him. He was too drawn to the idea to try and analyse it now.

"Burning Palace? No need for such careless distraction. I would bring him to you and then watch you work," Raziel purred. As her hand walked up his chest his tail brushed against the outside of her ankle.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Now that was tempting and true doubt to her earlier conviction set in.

"But what would you get out of that?" For that's what she kept coming back to. He didn't seem the sort to do something out of the kindness of his heart. Or perhaps she was wrong about him and even certain encroaches on ethics bothered him. Was his weakness women in distress? People wronged?

"The White Knight image doesn't suit you," Lottie goaded, chancing that either his ego would make him protest he was or that it would repulse him to be considered so good he would tell her. He knew her secrets she wanted to know his. Slowly, she undid the cravat.

 

[Raziel]

"To watch you letting out everything you've had pent up to..." Raziel cast his eyes towards the house, checking there was no one nearby.

"...see someone so confident that they could do whatever they liked without repercussions seeing it all crumble down. You could never understand how much I would enjoy the sight of that."

Raziel tilted his head away, risking her fingers against his throat. He would have thought about whether she could do him serious harm within the terms of their bond had he cared about the risk.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie wasn't entirely sure how to process his answer. It wasn't quite what she had expected. She had thought perhaps he just enjoyed chaos and bloodshed in its basest form. Not that he enjoyed the nuances of it; the people who caused those actions and watching them reveal in wild abandon. No it was definitely not what she had been expecting from him. Her fingers lingered at his throat as she thought this all through, traced a single nail down his jaw before she dropped back down to her feet and offered him a small smile.

"When I've worked out how that doesn't involve my city falling with it, I'll give you a call so you can watch," because only then would she truly be able to let go in the way he said. "But if it's recklessness you want, maybe we do not go subtle tonight. It's your prize, what do you want us to do to this place?"

 

[Raziel]

"Mmm not allowed to kill anyone..." Raziel mulled. He brought a hand to her wrist and encouraged her hand to stay. "Not allowed to bring the whole city to its knees. Pity."

He undid the top button of his shirt, now freed from the cravat. Having worked his insidious way into the illusion he concentrated on fading enough that the crimson of his neck briefly broke through.

"How is the reputation of the two we are playing? And are we allowed to destroy it..."

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie stiffened slightly when he caught her wrist but relaxed when he didn't instantly cut her with some hidden blade. There had been the niggle at the back of his mind that he would not appreciate her teases but it seemed her gambit had been worth it. Instead she consented to his silent request and listened to him while tracing the very tip of her nail over his skin down his neck and throat and chest, leaving fading lines in their wake.

"Oh these two are fine upstanding pillars of the community, let's raze it to the ground," A slow smile that crept into a grin. "And, whilst my limit is killing I said nothing about maiming and seriously injuring," a tilt of the head as she raised her gaze back to his; she had clearly not pushed aside all of the deep seated hatred of this world entirely from her mind. They deserved to pay a little bit.

 

[Raziel]

"Then I have a challenge for you," Raziel purred in a low, sultry tone. He once again leaned into her personal space where she did not want him. She had successfully manipulated him to her own end, but it was always going to be a dangerous game with the tiefling.

"Take your knife and nick the skin of every guard you can without being noticed. Bring me a blade with just a little blood from every single one. Well...I will deal with those in the dance floor."

The grin that spread from ear to ear would have petrified an orc.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Always pushing..

She resisted the urge to lean back or take a step away from him as he leaned in so close she felt more than heard his challenge. The uncomfortable proximity was nearly forgotten. This was a game and Lottie loved games. She hadn't moved her hand from his chest and she tapped her finger against his collarbone twice as if considering his proposal. Swallowing her own discomfort she moved so that their noses were practically touching and whispered against his lips:

"Game. On."

Flashing him her own smile that was all daggers she slipped away from him and into the party, her illusion back in place and her knife against the flat of her palm.

 

[Raziel]

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Raziel announced. He strode into the middle of the dance floor. His voice had boomed out around the hall. With a casual wave of his hand the musicians stopped. Murmurs rippled through the crowd in a wave.

Surprise and annoyance, it all came through in that vague sound that responded to his announcement. Revellers thought he might have been about to make a speech. The host and older guests were appalled at the break in decorum.

What came next was going to be far worse.

"Halforth..." warned Louis Baskerville, their host. He didn't want to switch in attention away from himself and his schedule. He eyed his wife in case this was part of something she had planned.

"Edward?" went David Ilmarra, with a tentative smile on his face.

Raziel lifted his fingers and clicked them. The sound of spears striking the ground rang out from every entrance. Every guard stood facing inwards, keeping the guests penned in. The smiles evaporated.

"Now who did we want to play with first?" he purred to Lottie. Raziel knew that he'd taken this too far, but he adored being in the centre of the maelstrom.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

It wasn't too hard to slip past every guard in the room and take a drop of blood. A touch on the arm here, a flirtatious lingering of fingers there, a caress on this or that man. Lottie slipped past them all like it was some kind of dance. Excitement built in her as she wondered what exactly she had given Raziel permission to do to these people. It was like holding a lion on a fraying rope and she wasn't entirely past the idea of letting go altogether.

When he caught everyone's attention she made her way to his side, blessing them all with a charming smile and handing the bloodied knife to him, licking a drop from her thumb. Her eyes roved the gathered crowd before she pointed to the Blackwells.

"How about the Commander of the Griffin Riders," Norman had been one of the men who had stood by and said nothing when she had confronted her father about the Prince. Hurting him would be a clear message.

 

[Raziel]

Still hidden by the illusion, his tail switched from side to side in anticipation. Such raw, unadulterated chaos. His eyes scanned the crowd until he found the commander. He looked truly resplendent in his uniform, wife by his side. He looked amused. The situation still hadn't dawned on the whole crowd.

"Commander! Come up here please? Oh and do bring your wife."

The man was half way through the crowd when he realised that he wasn't being decorated with some award. He passed his glass off to someone else and walked out ahead of his wife, shielding her.

"Could you hold an illusion of his wife dying?" he whispered. She did have a knack for illusions, they were more complete than his own. It would have been a shame to waste such talent.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie rocked onto the balls of her feet and back, hands behind her back, as the man walked forward with his wife. Their fear and anger was like a sweet wine.

"I can for a little while - how horrifically would you like her to die?" her eyes moved to the guards with their spears pointing inwards. There were plenty of ways for a person to die in this room currently. She could sip a poison from a wine glass, she could be run through, she could have her throat slit in a Cheshire grin from ear to ear.

Though of course, it didn't necessarily have to be an illusion.

 

[Raziel]

"Hmm go with the flow," he replied.

"Now see here, I don't know what game you're playing but..." the commander marched forwards, so certain of himself, filled with barely contained rage. Raziel would have adored taking his time here, but he needed shock factor. He needed the others to see what was coming.

The commanders shadow split into three parts. The first two rose from the ground and grasped his arms, holding him tight. The other shoved his wife forwards. She stumbled into Raziel's arms and he span her around.

"Look at him," he hissed into her ear. The shadow still held her arms at her sides. Raziel had one hand clasped to her forehead and the other around her waist. "Will he save you now?"

The crowd gasped and held its breath. Several voices rose in anger, others in fear. One man tried to squeeze between the guards and was shoved to the floor.

A knife was in his hands in a flash, pressed lightly to the woman's throat. He drew just a drop of blood and she screamed. He needed that link to her blood. He cast a glance over his shoulder towards Lottie and nodded.

He drew back the knife in one smooth motion. Illusionary blood sprayed across the floor as he used the blood bond to command the woman to sleep.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Raziel was a performer, something that Lottie could respect and admire. Her sisters preferred to be direct but a little bit of the dramatic always made a hold up more interesting in her mind. It was also fascinating to watch his shadow and blood magic when she wasn't on the receiving end of it. Fascinating but also a tiny bit terrifying as she realised just how different today could have been for her if he had taken her blood back in the woods.

His nod drew her thoughts from what could have been to the here and now and she inclined her head slightly in return so that to the crowd it looked as though she were encouraging the actions that were about to follow.

As Raziel's knife drew across her throat in the pretend action of slitting the woman's throat Lottie's magic wound about her sleeping form. Blood was like a curtain that ran down her throat and chest, soaking the bodice of her luscious light blue gown. The unfortunately people, including the Commander, who were closest to her had the added horror of believing some of her blood actually splattered their own clothing. As the woman dropped like a lead weight whilst in truth she slept peacefully, the illusion showed the horrific throws of the end of her life. Her weak attempt to stem the flow of her blood and her hand reaching out towards her husband with pleading eyes that slowly drained of life.

There were several reactions about the room. The Commander yelled and tried to pull against the restraints in an effort to get to his wife; the bystanders with blood on them now began to scream and turned towards the guards, scrambling to get past or over them towards the exits; and one young serving maid fainted out of hysteria.

 

[Raziel]

A dull thud rang out as she slumped to the floor. Raziel did a double take looking at the ground. He hadn't meant to drop her quite so heavily and that had been her head on the ground. She was going to have a headache when she woke. Lottie had said there was to be no murder, but if he accidentally killed someone that didn't count.

The shadows forced the commander to his knees. Raziel stepped close enough to see the realisation working its way into his face. He was clearly a man uses to getting his way and not have controlled ripped from him. Belief slowly sank in, the illusion was exquisite.

He turned and grinned towards Lottie, hoping that would was satisfying.

"Two more of them?" he offered.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

The Commanders face was a work of art and the highway woman almost wished she could take a snapshot of the moment to save it for later. To think this had been one of the men who had encouraged her to waste her talents on conjuring butterflies to entertain the children that would one day grace the royal nursery. The illusion of his wife's blood ebbing towards him was so much more satisfying.

"The Osmalds," Lottie gave him a salacious smile and then her eyes moved across the hall to land on the two squarely. She made sure her voice was loud enough so that they knew what was coming too. That extra bit of fear. Felicia wept and collapsed against her husband as he tried to both hold her and move her behind him.

 

[Raziel]

"Don't worry, don't worry," Raziel crooned. "I'm not going to hurt either of you yet."

A guard stepped out of the ring to shove the two forwards. Raziel scanning the crowd and pointed to a couple who looked of a similar age.

"Whoeer the fuck you two are, come forwards," Raziel snapped. There was a cadence to the chaos and it could not stop for sobbing and moaning.

The two couples came forwards. Raziel grew tried of the expressions of the men as they fronted up and protected their women. He was tired of it. Remembering the rules of this game an idea struck him.

He stepped forwards and dropped his knife to the floor. The sound rang out above a hushed silence. With jerky motions the guards separated husband and wife. The women were shoved forwards, the knife close to their feet.

"New game, I'm going to kill one of these two men. If either of their wives can incapacitate the either before the count of thirty it won't be their husband."

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

The two wives looked horrified and Lottie didn't blame them. Women in Oban were brought up to be fair and chaste; wielding a blade was something they would never even dream of doing. They looked at her pleadingly as if they believed they were more likely to get mercy from her than her illusionary husband but Lottie was probably way more interested in this game than Raziel. She clicked her fingers at the guards who brought over two ornate chairs of carved oak and sat down in one with a flourish, kicking out the skirts of her dress around her. A serving girl stepped forward with shaking hands to offer them both a glass of wine which Lottie took with barely a glance to her.

"My bet's on Jennifer," Lottie provided the name of the other woman Raziel had randomly selected. She was taller and a little stockier, a by product of being in a decline in riches and having to do some of the work of her husbands agricultural business herself. A thing that the Osmalds had mocked the family for but now might actually be their own downfall.

The two women looked at one another and then both dived for the knife. There was a series of shouting and scratching, hair pulling and dress tearing as the women descended quickly into primal wrestling. Lottie sipped her wine.

 

[Raziel]

"Well I guess I get Felicity then..." Raziel mused, taking a sip of red wine. It stained his lips red until he swiped his tongue across them. The illusion didn't hide the length of his pointed tongue. Part of him wished it would slip more and reveal what the crowd would see as a truly develish visage.

He thought Felicity had the fight. She had rolled Jennifer onto her front, pinning her down and strangling her with her own jewellery. Jennifer's face her gone bright red, her husband baying and struggling against the guard.

Jennifer rocked from side to side, revealing the knife was in her hand, pinned beneath her body. She swung it over her head.

Felicity screamed, bringing her hands to her eye, barely containing the blood flowing freely.

Jennifer's first free breath silenced the crowd. She struggled to her knees and threw herself over Felicity. That first wet thud rang out. Felicity screeched, looking up at the bloodied knife in shock. Jennifer kept striking downwards, each strike put another bloody tear in the dress. Each strike silenced her victim's screams.

"That doesn't count as me killing anyone," Raziel declared out of the side of his mouth.

 

[Lottie Beaufort]

Lottie watched the match with the same interest her sister Blanche watched the street wrestling. She couldn't help it. Perhaps she would join her the next time she went to place a bet. Felicity had a lot more fight in her than Lottie could have imagine the woman who had sat in her mothers parlour and stitched pretty patterns on bits of lace. The woman earned an ounce of respect even though it would mean her loss. But then the tides were turning and she leaned forward in her chair as she caught the flash of the dagger in Jennifer's hands. Raziel's comment distracted her for a moment and her lip twitched into a smile.

"Fine, but only because it meant I won," Lottie inclined her head slightly. She was honestly surprised he was even sticking to her rule, it wasn't like it was bound in blood. Her gaze once again returned to the scene in front of them as Jennifer stood, bloodied and shaking and glanced towards the pair sat upon the chairs. The dagger clattered from her hand. Lottie couldn't help but clap.

"Perhaps we should kill both husbands anyway?" she let her eyes move back to the man beside her as she aired the question like one might ask the room if anybody fancied a game of cards.

 

[Raziel]

"Oh but then the little pawns would stop playing their parts," he explained. They got their rewards and their punishments and then they would all dance for his amusement.

"But if you would like to reward the winner..." Raziel purred. Another knife emerged from his jacket and was turned towards Lottie.

Just because he was not determined to maim and torture her did not mean that she wasn't being played with. He was watching her reaction almost as much as the crowd's.