A Few Notes: I do not own Lucien LaCroix.

All other characters and locations are my own creations unless otherwise noted at the beginning of the chapter.

The story takes place after Last Knight, and familiar character have gone their separate ways.

This will be a long story, some may think the characterization is wrong, but I suppose I tried to explore another facet. All feedback, positive or negative, is welcome and appreciated.

psyche b.

Time, Death & Scar Tissue

by psyche b. mused

1. By The Pricking of My Thumbs…

"God Kat! You could switch clothes with a hooker and still look like a choir girl." Corey said, rolling her eyes at her best friend Kathryn's choice of outfit.

"Really?" Kathryn glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "Well then you should be ashamed to be seen with me. I'll stay home." She was pretty sure that she wasn't going to get out of it that easily. Actually, she thought that she looked rather good in the short black dress. It moved nicely above her knees and hugged all the right curves. Of course the hem and neckline were more generous than Corey's leather ensemble, but it did set off her pale skin nicely.

"Oh no. You said you were going and you are. When was the last time you got out of here and had some fun?" Corey said, taking the pearls from Kathryn's hands before she could fasten them. She clucked her tongue and started looking through her friend's jewelry.

"What's wrong with those?" Kathryn said, taking the double strand back and putting them in their own box.

"Too June Cleaver. And you didn't answer me, when was the last time you went out and had fun?"

"Last month the symphony was playing Mahler -" Corey groaned.

"I mean normal fun." She said, giving up on Kathryn's jewelry and looking through her purse.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting I'm a mutant. Do you think that this 'Something Wicked' place could supply me with a drool bucket or should I bring my own?" Kathryn was used to Corey's jabs at her reclusive nature and by now she had a come-back for just about every one of them. She adjusted a few tendrils of deep auburn hair to frame her face better and Corey fastened a choker of black crystals around her neck. Kathryn touched the beads appreciatively and decided to ask where Corey got them before she had to return them.

"You know that isn't what I meant. Besides, think of your new book. That nightclub you wrote is just not believable. You research everything else to the limit, why not this?"

"Two very good reasons. First I don't think there's going to be a nightclub in the next book, the idea seemed to run its course in the first couple pages. And second, because the history section of the library is usually deserted, and even when it's not no one wonders why I'm sitting alone, no one comes over with some cheesy pick up line, and I don't have to hear the words 'hey, aren't you...'." Kathryn did a little turn in front of Corey, showing off the finished product.

"I guess you don't look too bad." Corey said with a wry little smile. "And you're just making excuses. Besides, with your ability to read people it seems like you would be able to find the best guys right off and not have to sift through the duds like the rest of us."

"You make it sound magical. It's just taking note of mannerisms and body language and maybe a bit of intuition tossed into the mix." Kathryn stepped into her black heels, again they were more conservative than the stilettos Corey balanced on, but they looked good with the dress.

"Body language my foot," Kathryn shot her a look and Corey looked away. "I know you hate it when I call you psychic, so I won't. But that doesn't stop me from thinking it."

"Well whatever you like to call it, big clamorous groups tend to overwhelm my radar." Kathryn took a look through her purse to make sure that she had everything for the evening, adding a notebook and a few pens.

"Hey, you can't dance and write at the same time." Corey said, picking up her jacket.

"Hey, I can't dance at all unless we're talking about a waltz." Kathryn pulled her knee-length charcoal gray cloak around her shoulders, closed the hidden buttons and fastened the heavy silver clasp at her throat. "Besides, getting a bit of the atmosphere might not be a bad idea and for that I need notes."

"Why do you have to wear that? You look like someone out of an old movie." Corey looked frustrated again.

"Because it's warm and it covers the hump on my back so nicely. People won't even know that you've taken pity on Quasimodo's twin sister and helped her sneak out of the bell tower for the evening." Kathryn checked the mirror again and decided against the hood. Her hair was actually doing what she wanted this evening and she didn't want to give it a reason to rebel.

"Do you talk to guys like this?" Corey laughed as the two women started out into the chilly night.

"Not unless they say something to inspire me. So where did you hear about this place anyway? 'Something Wicked' sounds like a line out of Poe." Kathryn brushed the layer of receipts and gum wrappers off the seat and got in Corey's car. She would have preferred to drive her own vehicle, but Corey's skill at giving directions left quite a lot to be desired. It was easier to just put up with the mess.

"Everything reminds you of something out of Poe." She rolled her eyes.

"No it doesn't, this just happens to be obvious." Kathryn laughed. "Besides, I write Horror, or so they say. I'm supposed to be dark and mysterious. So who told you about the place?"

She had never liked the Horror genre for her stories. She supposed some people could see them that way, she had just never accepted the idea herself.

"Marco." Corey said, rolling the 'r' seductively.

"Now was he the one before last, or the one before that?" Kathryn settled the wool of the cloak around herself and out of Corey's way and fastened her seat belt.

"Very funny." She pulled away from the curb with a lurch.