Never An Angel

Ninth

        Despite having purged herself of anything negatively impacting her, Magdalen stayed home for the night. She didn't want to go into the bar so let the night manager handle things for her. Her other businesses were just fine and in great hands.

     Murello had wanted to talk to her, but nothing professional. She gave him a quick phone chat but otherwise had contact with no one but Petra. It was exactly what she needed. And, further leaving her in a good mood, Petra didn't pester her about this or that. Petra cooked dinner, kept calm, and kept any questions at bay. Even Olive seemed to be on his best behavior.

     When it was late enough that everyone was tired, Magdalen had an easy time sliding under the covers next to Petra. It was beginning to feel good- to have someone beside her, someone cuddle up to her. It was also nice to simply have to reach over and fiddle rather than call Petra over and wait for her to arrive or go wherever she was. There were definitely perks to having an official mate.

     After a bit of fooling around- which took hours and was nothing near high school play- Magdalen fell asleep with Petra lying comfortably on her chest. She was warm all over, a little scratched up, and dreamt of nothing. For her, it was a delight.

     But then she was being shaken awake by insistent hands and didn't know how to handle it. She barely came around when Petra was hissing at her, "Magdalen, get up!"

     She groggily sat up, just barely noticing Olive growling protectively by the bedroom door. She squinted at Petra's face in the slice of moonlight coming in through the curtains. "What?"

     "Shh! Someone's downstairs."

    Upset, by being ripped out of sleep and the intruder, she jumped out of bed, fully prepared for a fight. "Stay here," she demanded.

     Petra moved to hands and knees. "What are you doing? Where are you going? You're naked! Call the police!"

     Magdalan stopped, ignoring the naked comment and focusing on the law enforcement one. "Do not- do not- call the police. Do you hear me? Stay. Here."

     "What the hell are you going to do? Fight them?"

     "I-" Magdalen hesitated. She couldn't fight the way she would if she were alone. But then she remembered... She went to her bedside drawer and pulled out the Beretta. She silently thanked Murello for insisting she keep it. "Now stay here."

     Petra gaped. "You own a gun?" She shook her head and crawled to the other side of the bed where her cell was. "I'm calling the police."

     Like lightning Magdalen was at the other end of the bed, snatching away Petra's phone. "I said no. No cops. Now stay here, or hide if you have to. I'm serious, Petra. Don't pull any shit. Got it?"

     Shocked, Petra could only obey and nod.

     Magdalen remained a few more seconds to be absolutely sure that Petra wouldn't do something stupid, then she crept out into the hall, not bothering to put on any clothes. Olive, eager, followed by her side. She padded slowly down the stairs and tried to ascertain where the intruder was while simultaneously trying to figure out whether she should really use the gun or just her natural power. When she reached the first floor, she paused. Olive did, too.

     Then he started and zoomed toward the kitchen in a flurry.

     Spurred on, Magdalen ran behind him, moving faster when she heard a sharp cry of pain and Olive's nails skittering across the floor. There was a loud crash. She skidded to a stop and flicked on the lights to see just what the hell she was getting into. What she saw made her lower her weapon and sigh in irritation. She cursed.