Title. Maze
By. Audrey aka midnightrrose, aka dark rose.
Disclaimer. Not mine.
Rating: its an ANITA BLAKE fan fic think about it
Spoilers: the whole thing.
Feed back, please please please.
Distribution: You want it, come and get it.
Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe’s bother me. I like
knowing whom, what, where, when, how, and why. Especially why. Why? Because I’m
a girl. Or that my excuse. The real reason is because if someone wants to harm
someone I know or anything, I want to know the reason. I want to know why I
might have to defend them. I think it’s a girl thing.
I
concentrated on the mug in front of me, very hard. Very, very hard. Why?
Because I was scared. No one was in my house tonight. No one was stalking me.
No my life wasn’t in danger, yet. And no, no one I knew was dead or dieing. Far
from it actually. Well, technically a lot of my friends are dead. But their
vampires so that they should be dead. If they were alive, I would be worried.
Something worse had happened. Something way worse. Death had fallen for
the Executioner. Yeah laugh it up its funny. Really funny, if I
wasn’t the Executioner.
Hi, I’m
Anita Blake. Vampire Executor, Human Servant, Vampire Master, Lupa, Bolverk,
and Nimer-Ra. Oh, and Death’s soul mate. Can’t forget that.
But
back to the point. I was on the phone with Death. Why? Because he realized that
Donna wasn’t for him, and that I was. My question to him was “So you changed
your mind about not have romantic thoughts about me?”
His answer “Maybe.”
And that’s where this
started.
Welcome to my life. A maze of
maybes and lies.
“Edward. You can’t love me,”
I said. He couldn’t it was against the rules. I think.
“Yes I can” Edward doesn’t
play be the rules, I guess.
“Edward. Please. What about
the kids. What about me? I have two, no four, boyfriends. I can’t give that all
up”
“Yes you can”
“The arduer.” My voice was
soft.
“Yes, my informant told me
about it. You can get rid of it you know?” he said. I couldn’t see the smile
over the phone. But, I knew it was there.
“How?” I asked.
“Kill-”
“No” I
cut him off. “No killing Jean, and no killing Richard.” Or any of my friends, I
added silently.
“No we
kill Belle Morte,” he said.
“What?”
I asked.
“Uh-uh.
You let me come up there and take you out to dinner and I’ll tell you, and help
you, maybe”
“Fine”
I growled into the phone.
“Good,
see you tomorrow night” he said. And the phone went dead. Great. Now what could
I wear on the “date”.