Status Updates From Déjà Vu & Gin (Toil & Troub...

I really struggled with this one. It just didn't flow like the others. I think as I said before I just didn't connect with the heroine.

Not enjoying this as mush as the others. I think for me this sister I just don't understand. Something about her doesn't resonate with me.

Ooops -- ok killing that guy could be problematic.

They threw a starving 4 year old in prison?

>< I hope Ty kills this guy like he did his Father.

This is ssooo sad.

Wow -- that's dark. She's opening with this? Oo

Ty's grandparents were total assholes. His Father was worse. Jeebus -- his poor Mom.

I don't say anything. There's nothing to say. I know what he's taken from me now.
Everything.

Absolute silence stretches between us as he continues to stare at me. Then with a disbelieving laugh, Tyr yanks me to him, kissing me so hard it hurts.
I melt against the onslaught, my fear dissolving for the first time in days. "F*ck," he whispers against my bruised lips, his fingers stroking my hair. "I didn't want this, I didn't want to want you."
"I know," I whisper back. "But you do.

"I'm nobody's f*cking fairy tale."
"I wasn't looking for a fairy tale," she whispers.
"Oh yes, you were. And that's not me, Anastasia. It never will be. I think you need to ask yourself what you can live with before you start talking about fate." I reach out and run a fingertip over one of those silky platinum curls.
She swallows. Opens her mouth. Shuts it again.

He takes a swallow of his drink, studying me with those intense eyes. "Ana is too short, too abrupt. There's no depth to it. Anastasia, now," he rolls my name over his tongue, making me shiver, "that sounds like a bit of music from a forgotten song."
"You sound like a poet."
He smirks. "I've been called a lot of things, love, but poet is a new one." That dark gaze slides over me and it's hard to breathe.

"Wait until you see my new calendar. I'm going to make a shitload of gold, I'm telling you."
"I thought Stephen said they weren't agreeing to any full frontal."
"Oh, they're not." She pouts briefly, then grins again. "But when you're the photographer, you see things." She hiccups happily. "Bear-y nice things."
I roll my eyes as she giggles & soars off again. Fairies are surprisingly lustful little things.

*LOL*

When I roll over on my back, gasping, he smiles down at me.
"Possibilities. Choices. Everyone has them. The repercussions are endless and fascinating."
"Is that what you call it?" My stomach is roiling from what I've seen. No wonder he's crazy. "Which was true?"
"All are truth." [His] smile is wicked.

"What about you? You going to stand there & tell me you weren't using me? Using what's between us to exorcise your demons?"
I flinch. "What is between us besides using each other, Tyr?"
"Nothing." He snaps straight, but his posture is oddly stiff, like he's barely breathing. "Nothing at all."
I raise my eyebrows mockingly, knowing that either of us believes that anymore. "If you say so."

I close my eyes, my stomach knotting. She knows. Of course, she knows. "He's back up. That's all."
"An assassin of the realm is not backup, sweetheart. He is a plan." She gives me a gentle scolding look as she pulls away. "There are some things you can't thwart. I've warned you time & again. What is going to happen is one of those things."
[...]"How bad is it going to be?"
She sighs. "You don't want to know."

Anastasia [is] bent over the bed, her blond curls a rumpled silver wave over eyes bright and dazed, cheeks flushed and rosy. Her lips part as she catches my gaze in the mirror. Then she smiles.
And I come.
Tearing the silk in one fist with a half-swallowed shout, I come so hard, my heart claws at my ribs, my thighs shaking. F*cking hell, this witch.
I am in so much trouble.

Yes, you are, Tyr. Yes, you are...

I knew something was coming. Tyr told me so himself, but... tonight?
Right after leaving my bed?
I go upstairs to change while Jett continues raging, waiting for my sister to come home & tell us all what I've already figured out. Tyr attacked her tonight. Set her up.
Layer by layer I add the clothes, but it still doesn't matter.
I still feel exposed. Vulnerable.
Foolish.

Understandable. Rock meet hard place.

He gets up slowly, only to circle me once, twice. Like a prowling black panther, deciding which bit to sink his teeth into first.
I bite.
The echo of those words makes me shiver again & I jump when his fingers graze my shoulder. He chuckles softly, letting the back of his hand run down my spine.[...]
"So soft," he murmurs. "But that's all an illusion, isn't it, Anastasia? There's pure steel under that velvet."

There's not an ounce of shame to the man. Tyr doesn't flinch, doesn't turn away. Lazily, he finishes rinsing off, not seeming to care in the slightest that he's bare-ass naked, wet and sinfully hard.
Finally he reaches back to shut off the shower. Then he stands there, dripping, looking at me, one eyebrow raised.
He's enjoying this.
"Will you put some damn clothes on?" I snap. My voice cracks [...].

The only thing I should have felt when looking at that witch tonight was irritation that the [...] bitch hadn't ended her & gotten me out of this mess. Instead, when I pushed that curtain back & saw Anastasia lying there, still & white, but breathing, I was relieved. So relieved my goddamn knees wobbled.
I come to a halt as the truth hits me.
I want the witch.
I mean, I really want her.

His curtain of dark hair falls over my cheek, soft & thick, his eyes black as the night pressing against the windows. "I dislike surprises, Anastasia." The words are low & surprisingly soft. "So you will not be getting injured again."
"Is that an order?" I blink up at him.
He doesn't smile. "It is."
"Um, I'll do my best."

*smile & smh*

Oh Tyr, I sense there are definitely more surprises on the way for you both...

"[He] wanted you here before dark."
"Well, not being a god, I did the best I could."
"It must be emasculating to have to depend on others for magic." He tsks, waiting for a reaction I don't give him. This one isn't the type to simply pull the wings off a fly. That's not nearly entertaining enough. He's more likely to crumple one wing & throw it into a spider's web, then sit back & watch the show. Like he did to me.

I'm still stuck with no real idea how to work myself loose.
I've been in tight places before. The key is not to panic. The solution will come. It always does. I've learned patience over the years. When you chew at a problem too much, it just grows bigger, but leave it alone, go on with your life, and sometimes epiphany strikes.
As I drive, watching the lake winking to my right, I can only hope that shit strikes soon.

I give her a wink. "I don't have any f*cking morals."
To my surprise, she laughs. It does something to her. Suddenly that icy exterior is alive w/ color, sparkling blue eyes, pink cheeks & curving ruby red lips. Bloody hell.
She catches me staring & instantly the mask slams back into place. Impenetrable & cold.
But she's under there. The real Anastasia Gosse. And damned if I don't want to see her again.
F*ck.

"Place the tip of the sword in the water."
"What?" Instinctively, I put my body between her magic basin & my blade. "No f*cking way I'm letting whatever potion you've got in there near him."
"Him? For the love of the gods." She rolls her eyes. "You actually named the cursed thing."
I raise an eyebrow. "All men name their swords, love, didn't you know?"
She doesn't even blink though her cheeks go slightly pink.

"See the pretty light," [he] whispered. "Watch how it fades away."
"Make it stop." I grabbed his arm. "Make it stop." Instinctively, I knew he had the power to stop it all.
He looked at my too-thin hand on his coat & for a heartbeat, I think he considered it.
Then he laughed & brushed my fingers away. "No, it's better this way, gypsy child. Learn the lesson now. Chaos is the master all must bow to in the end."

But her voice? That I can still hear as clear as day. She sang me to sleep every night, [out] under the stars [...].
It was like being serenaded by heaven, except her songs didn't try to make light of the sin & darkness in the world. She sang of broken hearts & lovers lost. I know my father kept her as a secret mistress [...]. He told me so himself, many years later. Right before I shoved a knife through his throat.