Date: 2010-11-12 04:57 am (UTC)
She watched him go, not really willing to accept apologies in looks, even if he hadn't been himself, had been compelled by a ghost who hated her beyond all reasoning. It still stung, cut a bit, but she turned away, reaching for the cell phone she held and called the bikers she'd brought, moving to the warehouse Peter had indicated, and giving them the address.

It wasn't far from where she'd left them--little was in this town. If they made some noise in arriving...well. So be it. No one was going to come to investigate with so many, not without serious backup the police in this town didn't have right now. And they weren't going to bother for an abandoned place.

She gave them all sweet smiles, and led them inside, catching the scent of blood, John's blood, as soon as they stepped inside. It was all she could do not to cry out, to fall when she saw him, and when one of the bikers started to make a joke, she nearly ripped out his throat.

Instead, she hissed a scathing order, and they all froze like marionettes, as she moved to where John was hanging and bound, and gently, but quickly started freeing him, ready to catch him when he fell.
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Lydia

June 2020

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