Written by Falconempress. Posted on Jul 4, 12:51 PM.

"You Slay Me" Spork - Chapter 17

The demon had changed clothes from the last time I’d seen it; now it was wearing scarlet pleated pants with a bright yellow shirt and azure tie. Very chic, very primary colors.

Katie MacAlister, ladies and gentlemen – a writer who, upon making her character summon a badass demon firstly and foremostly remarks on the said demon’s fashion sense.

Is there a name for what is wrong with you, MacAlister?

So Assling asks questions, again in that wannabe archaic and mysterious speak, so just to spare you the awfulness, here is what she found out from the demon:

- He did not kill the Dead Woman From Chapter One, merely strung her up, although he was there when she was murdered

- He was at the Venediger’s place when he was murdered, but was not the one who killed him – the one who summoned him did

- Drake was the one who summoned Bafamal and killed all those people to gain the Tools and so rule “the mortal world”.

I know it’s getting old, I’m just having too much fun. And by the way, how can a world be mortal? Was using “the world of mortals” instead so hard? It just sounds awfully awkward and, well, stupid, is all I’m saying.

How does Assling react when she learns that the man who she was pretty sure was a murderer is really a murderer?

My heart turned to stone, fracturing into a million pieces. I knew Drake was guilty—I had ever since I’d found Bafamal lounging around in his house—but to hear the confirmation of it destroyed a part of me I hadn’t known existed. Blackness swam before me. I clutched the arms of the chair and forced myself to breathe slowly.

It was enough. I couldn’t stand any more. With each word, another little piece of my soul was torn from me.

No. No, no, no, no. No. Hell no. Just no. I can see what you are trying to do, MacAlister, but no. I am not falling for that. I am refusing to accept that there is some sort of deeper, stronger emotional connection between the two leads. So far, they have been doing nothing but checking each other’s tonsils with their tongues, rubbing naughty bits and doing horrible, horrible and deprived and vile things to each other in bed – well, it was mostly Drake doing these things to Assling with her being completely “possessed” and “subjugated” by him – OH GOD NOW I’M REMEMBERING THAT CHAPTER ALL OVER AGAIN WHY. There is no way you could convince me there is anything other than lust and failure to control one’s libido going on. We were shown no evidence of this, nor were we even so much as told about it. Drake appears and right off the bat Assling is all wet for him. Same for Drake. There is no gradual realization that she may have actual feelings for him, nothing is going on in her on a platonic level. Everything that transgresses between those two is purely physical. Sex does not equal love. Railing somebody like there was no tomorrow is not necessarily a demonstration of some deeper affection. Ask any college student who got smashed-out-of-their-skull drunk and woke up to a total stranger the next morning. Were they automatically in love with that random individual? Something is telling me was more something along these lines:

I’m sorry, but I need a moment to elaborate on this a little but. I will try to not to keep you too long.

What is the nature of the attraction between these two? They meet. They pounce each other. Which, okay, let’s just say that we all had or will have a moment when we will do a similar stupid mistake that would warrant the same look as on that picture up there. Having urges is a perfectly natural thing, as well as satisfying them. But that is all they are – urges. Primal, biological need to procreate. Nasty business which nature solved by making it feel real good, so that not only we would not avoid, but seek it instead. So I could – hypothetically – grasp that Drake and Assling are just bumping uglies and that’s that.

But then we learn that she is his mate – for him to love and to hold ’til death to them part. Which in this case is literal, since Drake will die when she does. And in the spirit of this reciprocity, she is bound to him until that day. Why? Because she can withstand his “fire”.

So many jokes I could make right now, but I told myself to maintain at least some semblance of class in these sporks.

Just because of a genetic/physical trait, she is responsible for his life and will bind hers to his until the end of her days.

That is not love.

It is many other things – most of which would have to be treated by a certified psychiatrist, but it is not love.

And for the record, neither is this:

Then why is MacAlister trying to sell this as such? This is something an alien would write, if their sole observation on the subject of love was a singular trip to an S&M club on a margarita night.

So you can see how I would be unwilling to accept this. How I would be outright refusing to accept this.

Okay, I’m done, moving on. Oh, wait, but before we get this little gem:

Wetness streaked my cheeks. I lifted my hand to brush away the tears and found my fingers stained red. I was weeping blood.

Wat.

Somebody call the Vatican, I think Assling can be the first person ever to acquire the title of “saint” before they die. Seriously – where in the name of Cthulhu’s moldy ballsack did that come from? She weeps blood? What? WHAT?

Oh nevermind.

Perdita – not at all suspiciously – runs off because she needs to open the club or something and Assling is left there with just her sister Ophelia.

“You’ll have to excuse Perdy—she has been under a great deal of strain since the Venediger was killed, and she… she was … Well, to be honest, she and Drake Vireo were … were … friends before you came.”

“Friends?” I blinked a couple of times while the emphasis she placed on the word sank into my fuzzy brain. “Oh, you mean friends. I didn’t know.”

What? As in “friends with benefits”? What?

“I’m sorry. That was tactless of me to blurt it out like that. I just wanted you to understand why Perdy is so upset.”

WHAT?

Okay, so let me get this straight – before Assling appeared, Perdita and Drake were an item. Then Assling came along, Drake ditched Perdita without so much as a second thought, so that he could go and discover himself sum America.

WHAT THE FUCK.

One – Drake is a dickbag.

Two – how the hell is that even possible? When Assling and Drake do the nasty monkey dance together, he tells her that she is his One and Only True mate because only the One and Only True mate can withstand the dragon fire which, as we were shown – in way too much detail – he cannot control once he is…aroused. The bond is so strong that when his One and Only True mate dies he does as well. So wouldn’t that make Perdita his One and Only True mate, since she’s been partaking in some – dammit what was that term – oh I got it – concubious conduct (sorry, Kawnliee, I could not resist) – with him without ending up a pile of slightly greasy, smoldering ashes and a pair of smoking shoes? Does Drake have a new One and Only True mate to whom he is bound with his very life every week? How does this work?

Explain, MacAlister!

And maybe I am over – analyzing this shit, since not even the author cared enough abut her little literary abortion of a book to keep the BASIC FACTS STRAIGHT!

Crap, I’m getting mad again, I’m sorry, my psychiatrist(s) gave me these pills that I need to take every time I get overly excited. Just a sec.

I need to down them with something.

That was yummy. Tehee, I have yummy in my tummy. Tehehee.

“It’s all right. Drake might think I’m his mate, but it doesn’t mean I have to accept that role. And we’re not… together.”

What? WHAT? WHAAAT?!

Dammit, I’m all out of pills. Hang on a sec.

gets out a phone

Hello, Doctor Schwarzsteiner? You know about those pink pills you gave me? Can I have some more?

He’s a great guy, the doctor. A bit old, but thanks to the clean fresh air in the rustic German village he grew up in, healthy as a horse. Around 1945 had to leave his homeland for some reason, but he is not at all sad about it. He laughs all the time. Such a great guy. He even showed me a picture from his younger days once, when he was freshly out of med school back in his homeland:

“I had planned to take whatever evidence the demon provided to the police, but now I’m not so sure. There was nothing it said that I could offer as proof positive, and if I tried to explain to Inspector Proust just who Bafamal was, he’d lock me away in a loony bin.

But wasn’t that what you’ve been trying to accomplish this entire time? Wasn’t proving your innocence to the French authorities your excuse for hanging around and subjecting us to all this nonsense? You wouldn’t have to tell Proust Bafamal is a demon, you could tell him he is a guy who has important information about the murders who wishes to remain anonymous. Or you could just mail the tape to the police anonymously. I am sure they would quickly figure out the connection between Drake, the Venediger and the Dead Woman From Chapter One before long and you would be off the hook! There, I just solved this problem for you. Why is this a problem at all?

Why does nothing in this chapter make sense?

So Assling, in hopes of figuring something out, watches the recording again (oooh, so that’s why…) and there is something not quite right about it, something she can’t put her finger on.

Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay, what time is it?

IT’S INFODUMP TIME EVERYBODY!

We have some random infodumping about how wizards are different than magicians and mages or something, the point being that the Venediger was a mage and that mages, in their very foundation, work with the “dark powers”

Yes, in those exact words.

Perdita tried to convert him, as we already knew, but gave up eventually after a few years. And the more we are discussing this, the more I get this creepy vibe about the twins trying to convert everybody to their “one true religion”, chanting “one of us, one of us”.

I think I should be downing those pills with more booze.

I closed my mouth from where it had been hanging open, trying to at least appear as if I had a few wits left. “The Venediger is a… uh …”

“It’s a position within the Otherworld, yes. You don’t have them? No, you wouldn’t, not in the States. Everything there is a democracy.”

STOP – TRYING – TO – BE – FUNNY – YOU – FAIL – FOREVER

We are basically told again what a Venediger is and how the paranormal society works – didn’t we cover that already? More than sufficiently? Why are we addressing this again? Oh, I know. Maybe because not even the author could read this book start to finish once she was done writing it.

But we get new info as well, like that a female can also become a Venediger, although those are quite rare, and the position is available even for a Wiccan. The twins were hoping that such person could become the next Venediger. One of them.

“One of us, one of us…”

Shut up, dammit! Where are those piiiiills?

A dragon can’t be a Venediger, since they are too bound to their septs. Perdita, on the other hand, is a very powerful Wiccan. Which begs the question how she became so powerful in her craft, since her teacher, a man who trained her in everything she knows is the exact polar opposite when it comes to power affinity, but I digress. Anyways, since it only requires skillz to become the Venediger, Perdita has a pretty strong chance.

If you are screaming “Perdita’s behind it all!” on top of your voice, you are not the only one:

And with that thought, a light clicked on in my head. I saw it all, saw the whole plan, each jigsaw piece of it fitting smoothly into the next. All those knowing looks between the two of them, Perdita’s copy of the Steganographia, Perdita’s lectures about people who tapped into the dark powers, Ophelia telling me that Perdita had had a relationship with Drake—it all came into focus as I sat watching Ophelia wring her hands with pretend worry. Even the vague something that bothered me in watching the video of Bafamal dropped into place—Drake had told me that dragons couldn’t summon demons. He might have been lying, but thinking back, I was of the mind he had been telling the truth. That meant that someone else had to have summoned Bafamal. Ophelia prattled on about how wonderful it would be with a Wiccan in charge while I wondered idly if she knew that I was familiar with the fact that a dragon couldn’t summon a servant of Abaddon.

And just like that, with the snap of her fingers, Assling completely dismisses Drake as a suspect, despite all the evidence.

I am only pointing this out because it’s funny how she kept going “Drake is so guilty” based solely on one chance encounter, but when she is given actual proof, she instantly starts questioning the evidence.

But yeah, Perdita looks pretty damn good for it.

Ophelia asks what is Assling going to do about Drake, to which she responds that she is “going to have to have it out with him”. As it turns out, this vague combination of words has a very strong meaning in the Parisien supernatural community:

She sucked her breath in, her blue eyes wide with surprise … and perhaps a smidgen of pleasure. “A chal-lenge? You’re going to issue a challenge to him?”

I nodded. Challenge was a good word for what I wanted to do.

Ophelia is all excited because she has never seen a wyvern challenged plus she gets to be Assling’s second. Is it just me or is having a twin sister of the woman you suspect of being a serial killer as your second in a fight really a bad idea? She starts thinking of different kinds of spells that may prove useful, which somewhat unsettles Assling. Why?

“No one has ever challenged a wyvern and lived,” she tossed over her shoulder as she rustled around the shelves.

Of coooooooourse they didn’t. That would make out widdle Assling less of a Speshul Snowflake ™, now wouldn’t it? And allow me to rephrase my previous sentence – is it just me or is having the twin sister of the woman you suspect of being a serial killer as your second in a FIGHT TO THE DEATH really a bad idea?

Blah blah blah, exposition on how Drake killed this poor German mage when he challenged the dragon, and the two head for G&T. And what do you know, Fiat (snicker) is there!

Fiat laughed, his blue eyes unreadable. “Ah, cara, you have such fire. You truly are worthy of being a wyvern’s mate. Drake doesn’t deserve you.”

Blergh. Of course he wants her. Who doesn’t? Eeeeeeverybody has a raging hard – on for her. In case you can’t hear it, that’s annoyance in my voice.

Fiat dismissed Ophelia’s declaration with a flicker of his eyes. He lifted my chin with one cool finger, taking a long moment to study my face. “So determined, so forceful. But still mortal.”

“She might be mortal, but she is challenging Drake Vireo,” Ophelia trumpeted. “It is not everyone who has the courage to do so.”

As it had the night I had called Drake Puff the Magic Dragon, the entire room went silent.

STOP TRYING TO MAKE FUNNY HAPPEN. YOU CAN’T MAKE FUNNY HAPPEN. SHUT UP.

Respect dawned in Fiat’s eyes as he considered me. “So, the Guardian plans to challenge her mate for control of the sept.”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head to add emphasis. “It’s not like that—”

“Yes, she is,” Ophelia cut in, waving a hand at me to shut up. “She will challenge him, and when he fails, she will rule in his place.”

headdesk

headdesk

headdesk

What? WHAT? Is there seriously NO END to the list of abilities and titles this woman has or can potentionally acquire?

Forget it, she is the Jeezus of the Sues. The One True Savior of all that is Sue – y.

Stop writing words, MacAlister, you are only hurting people. And desks.

After that transpires, Assling and Ophelia go to Perdita’s office, only to find her there. Dead. Ophelia faints. Chapter ends. Thankfully.

Thank you for reading,

falconempress

Tagged as Falconempress, Paranormal Romance, Spork, You Slay Me.

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