darker_london | Renee / Marcel - Aftermath

You don't have the chops to do this the white witches' way.

Renee stared at her reflection in the mirror. The bruises on her throat had turned a putrid shade of purple, a constant reminder of her humiliation at Deirdre's hands. Even when she couldn't see them, the skin remained tender. She was lucky to have made it out of there without serious injury. If it weren't for Pierre...

She placed her hand gently on the stone dagger, sitting on her vanity. Hmm... what an appropriate place. Sure, it had the power to dispose of just about any ghost that might dare approach her, but against a human, it had proved nothing short of useless.

Gently, she spread a heavy foundation over the bruises. Just because she felt like shit, didn't mean she had to look like it.

Pierre was still snoring away on her bed. He had been sleeping like a log the couple of nights. Just before falling asleep last night, he had confided to Renee that he had been having terrible trouble sleeping at Deirdre's house lately. Bad dreams. Scary monsters.

She left the room quietly, closing the door gently behind her. She was wearing her witch's clothing once more, though she had forsaken her protective pentacles. What good would they do, anyway? She hurried down the street towards the bus stop. Today, school was far from the top of her list of priorities... A short bus ride later, she arrived at the Cauldron.

"Didn't go well?" Marcel asked the second Renee walked in the door. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
"You knew."
He looked up, an enigmatic smile on his face. "Knew?"
"You knew that she wasn't possessed. You knew... what would happen to me."
"I knew nothin' of the sort," he returned. "I could merely sense trouble brewing about you. I did tell you to be careful."
Renee glowered at him for a moment, then buried her anger. He did have a point.
Noticing her hesitation, Marcel decided to prompt her. "Was there somethin' you wanted?"
She nodded towards the curtained-off back area. "Power. Dark power. I want what you have."
"What makes you think I 'ave that power?"
"Why else would you stock those things? It's not every day you find someone willing to unleash that upon the world."
Marcel made an amused sound, and disappeared behind the curtain. Renee wanted to follow, but found herself unable to do so. Was she simply nervous, or...?

He returned a moment later with an old, leather-bound volume. He blew the dust from the pages and laid it on the counter before her. Lycanthropy.
"I can't afford this," she with a sigh after a moment's hesitation.
"Oh, I'm sure we can work somethin' out... how much did you come here willin' to spend?"
She laid her money on the counter, about two thirds of what he was actually charging for the book. He picked up the money and stuffed it in the catch register.
"You can owe me the rest. Howzzat?"
Renee's breath caught as she picked up the book and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Thank you, that's... very generous of you."
"Think nothin' of it. That there's your trainin' wheels, like. If you can't 'andle that... well, there's not much point in pursuin' much of anythin' else. But if you can... I think I might be able to be of some 'elp to you. Hmm?"
Renee nodded, and took a closer look at the book. "Lycanthropy. That sounds... advanced."
"Not really," Marcel shrugged. "The main challenge is in gettin' the ingredients. Which, unfortunately, I only 'ave a small supply of. For personal use," he said with a wolfish smile.
"Do you have to import it?"
"It's... exotic", he said, searching for the correct term. "But I'm sure a gorgeous girl like yourself could find it if she put 'er mind to it," he chuckled.
"I'm sure," she murmured, turning to leave. "Thank you," she said as she reached the door.
"Turnabout's fair play," he answered. "I'll get my karmic reward."

Suddenly feeling nervous again, Renee left the store without another word, the book still clutched tightly to her chest.