Thursday, February 10, 2011

Just For Fun...

I don't post nearly enough on here, I know. To remind myself I actually can write now and then, since it seems like life is getting in the way of me accomplishing as much of that as I'd like I was reading through files on one of my faves. This is a piece of work I'm dying to finish and publish. In the meantime, enjoy a little chat between two of my to die for, literally, Alpha heroes. (And's unedited).

“The Greeks can suck my dick, Fage.” Ford said, a demonic chuckle rumbling in his chest.
He pictured it, blond fucking gods kneeling in the dirt in front of him. Hell, that wasn’t even good enough. “Come to think of it my dick would be too good to touch their lips, fucking clothes whores. They’re like a god damned soap opera from another planet.” He voice dripped venom, the tone that it took when he was in a state like this would have terrified any human within ear shot.

Fage was nonplussed. “Yeah, well, much as you like that glorious little cock of yours--”

Ford threw a left and at Fage, almost sent him sprawling in the dirt but he ducked it, laughing. He stood, looking his baby over.
“Don’t scratch the paint, Ford.” He warned with a leering smile.
Ford shook his head, almost grinning. Fage tolerated Ford’s little outbursts, he was after all Themis’ son, and charged with weighing both sides of every argument. He took his job to the extreme at times, letting things drag out for eons for his own amusement. He may have been forced by the Fates to balance things, but Fage, was himself no moral innocent. He was always entertained by Ford’s antics, Ford knew well, and even looking like some punk kid Fage had a heritage older and deadlier than his own.

Fage, pretty much, liked to play with Ford.

“Whatever, rice burner boy. When you gonna trade that fucking toy for a real ride?” He gestured towards his gigantic black powerhouse of a Harley.

“That tank on wheels?” Fage shook his dark shaggy head, settling back down against his Hayabusa.

“Don’t think so, I don’t like to drag ass when I’m being hunted.”

“Yeah, you call my cock tiny again and I’ll make that little piece of plastic there go poof, and I ain’t talking about your dick.” He smiled at Fage, a nice, fanged, menacing smile.

Fage laughed. “Stick your bones back in your mouth, fang boy. Back to the Greeks. You can’t afford to piss ‘em off this time, they’ll pull some strings and you’ll be suffering some twisted up immortal curse they love to dream up so much. You really want to die every day, or have your guts eaten every day, or never have sex, or…”

“Got it. I fuckin got it. No, I don’t wish that shit even on you. Won’t have to.”

Ford cocked an eyebrow on him.Wait for it…

“Why?” Fage’s eyes lit up, ready for something juicy.

“Love it when you’re predictable, Fage. I have a secret weapon.”

He cringed a little at the thought that Nix was a weapon at all, but she was, even fledgling and barely tested, still trying to figure out what power she even had. She was like his little black box in this mess. Push a button and boom. Bye bye, greeks, bye bye, soap opera in the sky. He could dream, anyway. In truth it would merely balance the power, and they would have to reveal her to do it, but if it came to that…

“You gonna spill, or what?”

“My mate.” He let that drop like a stone in a pond.

“Your WHAT?” Fage jumped to his feet, leaned forward and peering into Ford’s face.

“Get back outta my face, asshat.” Ford hissed.

“Just looking to see if there was a demon shadow in those eyes. Ford Gabriel, does not, would not, should not, ever have a mate.”

“Yeah, well, I do.” Ford muttered.

“Get the fuck outta here. No shit?” Fage’s mouth hung half open.

“No shit.”

“Where the hell is she? What’s her name?”

“Jesus H., Fage, nosy much?” Ford’s face tightened at the attention. “She’s…not here. She’s got her own things to deal with right now.”

“Oh, I get it, she’s a butterface. You’re hooked up to a woman got hit with the ugly stick.” He was laughing his ass off.

Ford grabbed him by the throat. Fangs out, face not a hair away from Fage’s, he snarled. “She, is none of your god damned business.” He released him, shoving him backwards.

Fage looked slightly less than bothered by Ford’s little display. He wasn’t exactly known for his cuddly nature himself.

“Fine, whatever. Guess you don’t like being mated. Sucks to be you, man.” He turned, grabbing his helmet. “I’m out, I unlike you, love the feminine side of our little balance scales, and I intend to spend some time wrapped around some curves other than asphalt tonight. Think about what I said, man. Whatever your mate has that can help, we need it, and we need it quick. We are going to have demons crawling up our asses on every continent, and if we don’t get a handle on things, this is going to turn into Chaos’ wet dream of a mess.” He slid onto his bike, the sleek black machine rumbling more like a muscle car than a rocket between his powerful legs. He gave him a slight nod of his head, shot off, and pulled a wheelie at about 100 mph, just because he was Fage, and he could.

“Show off.” Ford muttered. But he was smiling. He actually liked Fage. If like meant he wouldn’t kill him on sight, or would tolerate his company for longer than necessary to exchange information. He had actually spent time with Fage hunting. That was saying something.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011