“Don’t what? Don’t defend myself when you go after me like a rabid dog? Don’t demand my right to have anyone in this house that I please? What? Help me out here.” She grinned darkly. “And I’d suggest you do it quickly. Your time’s just about up.”

“Don’t …kill me … .”

“Don’t kill ya, huh? Well, that might be arranged.” She cocked her head, smiling coyly. “What’s in it for me? I like to know what my options are before making a decision of such magnitude, ya know.”

“Anything!!”

Lashing out, Kael reversed the nerve block, her teeth bared in an obscene parody of a genuine smile. “See? I knew there was a reason I kept ya around.”

She grabbed him by the lapels of his dark suit and pulled him to his feet, reaching out and snatching the pristine white handkerchief from his breast pocket as she did so. She put the handkerchief up against his nose, then reached down and grabbed his hand, replacing it on the bloody square of cloth. “Keep the pressure on for a minute or two. We’ll talk about the terms of your surrender later.” Brushing his jacket of imaginary lint, she turned and headed back toward the front door and her date with the intriguing stranger waiting just outside.

Opening the door, Kael leaned casually against the doorjamb, crossing her arms, and legs at the ankles. “You’re still here.”

“As promised,” the woman replied, inclining her head slightly.

“Please. Come in.”

Smiling seductively, the stranger oozed her long body past Kael, trailing a finger across the other woman’s abdomen as she did so.

Breathing deep and grinning to herself, Kael pushed herself off the jamb and followed her guest inside, closing the door softly behind her. “Make yourself comfortable,” she said, one long arm gesturing to the over-stuffed chairs occupying the huge living room. “Would you like something to drink?”

The woman’s grin deepened into a frank leer. “What are you offering?” she purred.

Kael’s eyebrow rose to hide beneath her bangs. “Cocktails. For now.”

The stranger matched her expression. “Then I’ll pass. For now.”

The American poured herself a scotch, neat, and swirled the liquid around in the crystal glass absently before taking a sip and feeling the pleasant burn of the alcohol as it washed down her throat. Walking across the room, she gracefully lowered herself onto the couch next to the other woman and took another sip. “Kael. Androstos,” she said finally, drinking in the woman’s beauty.

“I know. A powerful name for a powerful woman.”

Kael waited in silence.

“My name is Ianna.”

“Very beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“I hear you’re a practitioner of Santeria.”

Ianna’s smile broadened. “Oh yes. Such wonderful power in the religion.”

Kael smirked. “Power, huh? Seems to me that you’ve got to be a bit of a charlatan to make people believe they’re invisible. And invincible.”

“No more so than having people believe that you can shatter a bottle with the strength of your mind.” There was a mad, knowing sparkle in Ianna’s dark eyes.

Kael jumped from her chair, her teeth bared. “How do you know … .”

“About your …mentor …Lao Ma?” Ianna asked, unperturbed. “Do you really think she is—or was—the only person on the planet with the power to see into the hearts of others?”

“Don’t you ever speak her name to me again,” Kael growled, grabbing Ianna by the neck and squeezing off her air.

The other woman seemed totally unaffected by the violent display. “And why not? The woman is dead, Kael. But her power, that incredible, wonderful, delicious power, lives on in you. It’s just a matter of using it the right way.” Incredibly, the strangling woman curved her hand around Kael’s taut waist, pulling her dark captor ever closer. “Tap into the darkness in your soul, Kael. Tap into the blackness that fuels your dreams. Feed on it like a starving man at a banquet. Use that anger and hatred that lays claim to you. Use it and feel your true power.”

Ianna’s words were hypnotic, their lulling tone calling to the beast coiled within Kael; summoning it out to play. Her eyes darkened to a deep indigo as a feral smile spread wide her full lips, her teeth gleaming in the firelit shadows. Her hand still wrapped, white knuckled, around Ianna’s neck, she brought her head down and kissed the woman with crushing force, drawing blood with the first blow.

Ianna growled deep in her throat. Kael matched it, shifting her hand from the other woman’s neck to her jaw and prying her mouth open. Her tongue entered strongly, harshly conquering unmapped territory as her other hand went downward, kneading Ianna’s firm breast through the soft cotton of her T-shirt.

With a final bite to kiss-swollen lips, Kael pulled away and downed the last of her scotch in one gulp, leaving Ianna panting and slightly dazed. “That powerful enough for ya?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Ianna swallowed hard, slowly regaining her equilibrium after the devastating attack on her senses. “Oh yes. It was perfect.”

“Good. Then get out.”

Smiling, Ianna slowly came to her feet, reaching into the back pocket of her jeans and retrieving a business card. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing one another again,” she said, laying the card face down on the glass table fronting the couch. “Soon.”

“Don’t count on it.”

“Oh, but I am. Our darkness draws us to one another, Kael. Alone, we’re formidable. Together … together, we’ll be destroyers.”

Fingers of a long, elegant hand flicked, a casting off. “Whatever,” came the dark voice. “Just get out of here. Now.”

“Very well,” Ianna purred, smiling as she crossed the floor. “Until we meet again.” The smirk still on her lips, she opened the door and slipped from the home.

DESERT STORM

Part 11

by: SwordnQuill

SwordnQuil@aol.com

Disclaimers: The characters of Xena, Gabrielle, Lao Ma, Alti, Borias, and everyone else who sounds familiar belong to Pac Ren and Universal Studios. I am not making money off of this story.

Genre Disclaimer: Ok. Bear with me, please, because this is kinda tough to explain. Sometime last year, I read a story on the internet that moved me so much, I was inspired to write a sort of companion piece to it. That story was “Lost Soul Walking” by DJWP. In her words, “This is NOT UberXena fiction. It just starts out like it is.” The same can be said for this piece. While not directly related to “Lost Soul Walking”, “Desert Storm” can be considered a sort of prequel to it. It is a story, if you will, about the lifetime before the one depicted in that fabulous, outstanding story. (Can you tell I loved it?) In addition, this is somewhat of an ambitious piece of fiction, in that I am attempting (don’t know if I’ve succeeded, but I’ve attempted) to take the entire X:WP universe and modernize it. We start, in updated terms, with my version of Xena’s betrayal by Caesar (seen in “Destiny”), and continue up through the X:WP episode known as “Remember Nothing”. The plot will be very recognizable to you. It’s meant to be that way.

Special note: Because of this, Gabrielle does not appear, except in offhand mention, in a great deal of the first half of this story. Do not look for her, because you won’t find her. After all, she was not a part of ‘evil Xena’s’ life. If she were, things might have turned out differently, but because this is based on the premise of “Lost Soul Walking” it cannot happen differently. Gabrielle will, however, make her presence known, and that quite strongly, in the second half of the story. If you can hang on till then, I believe that you will not be disappointed.

Sexuality and Violence Disclaimers: We’re dealing with an updated dark Xena through much of the first half, and an updated redeemed Xena through the second. There’s gonna be violence. There are gonna be naughty words. There are also descriptions of sexual activity in this work. There are allusions to heterosexual sex, but nothing graphic. There are some graphic (though I hope tasteful) scenes of sexual expression between women as well. That is how I see the relationship between Xena and Gabrielle, and that is how I will continue to write it.

And, finally, thanks: To, as always, the incomparable Mike. A better beta and a better friend one could never hope for. Thank you also, as always, to Mary D, who rescued this story from the refuse heap and begged me to keep going on it. If you hate it, blame her. <w> Grateful and heartfelt appreciation goes out to DJWP, for continuing to write stories that grab me somewhere above the liver and giving her kind permission to mention her story in these disclaimers. If you haven’t read her stories, please, do yourself a favor and do so. Finally, this story is dedicated to a group of people without whom I would most probably be living on the streets. Elizabeth, Rachel, Sulli, and the rest of the “Get Sue to Atlanta” crew, this one’s for you!

Feedback: As always is gratefully appreciated. If you wrote to me regarding “Redemption” during the month of September to early October and I haven’t responded, please allow me the honor of apologizing in public. It was then that I was at my lowest point and making ready to move to my new home. Your words of praise and encouragement for my writing kept me firmly out of the pit of depression I was falling into and I shall be forever grateful to each and every one of you who took the time out to feed this bard. And for those of you patiently (or not so patiently) waiting for Redemption’s sequel, fear not, for with the conclusion of this piece, that piece will be started. Any and all who wish to may write me at SwordnQuil@aol.com . I’ll continue to do my best to answer each and every email. An exploding mailbox is a good thing to have. Thanks again!