Azoic - a term that use to mean without life, before going through evolutions to suit certain usages for that names meaning. Azoic Tea House utilized the old meaning ‘without life’ as its marketing slogan. To bring customers into the mystical occults worlds – astrology, witchcraft, voodoo and other occult genres. Always seeking – Without life? What is there next in that ultimate plane after death?  These are many questions that the living sought after to understand. Depending on Divia’s like Ophelia, the Queen Voodoo Priestess to show them the way? Her name was not advertised like some circus freak placed on a billboard. To find this woman was by word of mouth or being drawn to her by the conduit of fate that connects all beings.

Azoic Tea House held a unique personality once people came into the door. Walls were painted a dark crimson color, with mahogany crown molding in the middle of the wall wrapping about the place.  On the walls filled with many symbolic meanings that would only be identifiable to those who studied.  Central room as you stood in the doors threshold staring about held many tables carved in glyph markings, and painted strange elaborate colors to match New Orleans strange religious cultures.  Candles illuminated everywhere –on tables, counters, and walls. Bringing that surreal energy you walked into a powerful world like no other.  There was a side room filled with books you could not find in your local library. Another room that pacified for a lesson room on some days to learn how to provoke spirits, or lectures on how to harness certain spells? The floor was covered in pillows of various colors giving you a feeling you walked into a harem room. (with out the Arabian half naked woman).   Then further you walked past the labyrinth of tables you’d pass the elaborate bar were the tea’s were displayed in raw herbal form inside jars. Each one labeled for there brand.  Then you have your usual rest-room and storage hallway. Last thing interesting in this facility was a door marked by the voodoo snake spirit.

It was an acrylic painting with a woman dancing exotically before a fire with a snake in over head. While in the background were men garbed in tribal paint using their palms on Congo drums to help invoke the priestess producing great magic? Behind this door hid the legendary Queen that Caine could instantly feel that conjuring thread already tugging at him. Only could he hear the many enigmatic spirit voices surrounding him like in stereo.  When he spotted the door he would notice the flames on the candles shifting in that direction. Just as if someone stood before him with one pointer finger indicating that was his direction. He would know. 

Behind the counter was a dark woman sitting with a very large red zulu hat with heavy beads attached to it. Wrapped about her figure was a green sari.  She was smoking a long pipe filled with the smelly clove herbs that would make a person gag by the heavy smoke billowing about her head like smog. Upper lip gnarled to show off the decaying teeth from her lack of hygiene. Never pulling the wooden long pipe from her mouth she spoke to each them. Though her eyes stared directly at Caine..” ..the spirits are strong with you. She’s been expecting you…”  As if on cue the door literally unlocked, opened, and a odd illumination spread forth beckoning him to seek out Ophelia.  Walking through the door they’d see a lengthy stairway descending downwards into foreign territory for them both. Who exactly would greet them at the bottom?

As Lexie spoke of wandering the bayous he teased her with a light flirtatious voice. “You know cheri, you could always come and stay with me for awhile.  I’m sure we could find something to keep your primal side engaged.”  It just couldn’t be helped.  Caine was, and always would be, a lovable and successful letch and he made the most ridiculous things sound like honey gliding off his silver tongue.  He hadn’t wondered it before but as they moved towards the Tea House he had a split second to wonder if the fox could feel his bonded through him, if she somehow had a sense of her former Ulfric’s connection to the stone creature at her side.

"Shall we?"

Lexie climbed out of the car first and he took his time joining her.  Caine rushed for no man (or woman).  Moving like silk gliding against skin he made each step look like it deserved photographing.  His eyes watched the way her fingers tunneled through her hair and the way some of the more coppery strands were brought to life in the sunlight.  As she waited to let him reach her he instantly had a hand moving against those curls, fingers dragging their way through them, bunching them in his grasp, and then his fingers splayed at the back of her head to draw her in against him. 

She would be forced to put a hand to his chest to keep from colliding with him head on and he liked the feel of that warm hand pressed tight to the rock hardness of his chest.  Lowering his head he whispered something softly in French to her just before his lips caught hers in a kiss that was as hotly passionate as it was brief.  Caine had the gift of making the most of a moment and he did just that, saying with a kiss how much he liked her hair dancing in the sunlight.  Just as swiftly he was moving them towards the door again, his arm over her shoulders as he guided her inside.

“We’ll just have a little tea and perhaps see if this woman can answer some questions for me….I do so love it when people can give me what I want.”

From anyone else that might have sounded smarmy or petulant but Caine managed to make it quite charming, as though he really did adore such people and the surprise of finding them.  Lexie hadn’t asked what they were going to the shop for so he didn’t bore her with specifics.  It seemed that she, much like himself, was the type to enjoy the companionship, have a little fun, and leave the rest to chance.  All very nice qualities to his way of thinking.

Occult was certainly the right word for this place.  The smell alone would have driven his sister Aurora into a high class fit of disbelief and he would have relished how it annoyed her when he came home and had the cloying whiff of incense on his clothes.  When the woman behind the counter stood and greeted them as if she knew they were coming he arched one dark honied brow and looked down at Lexie with a debonair smile.

“She’s expecting me petite, then again aren’t they always…..I suppose we’d best not keep her waiting.”

Caine hadn’t the slightest idea what was behind the door or who this mysterious ‘she’ was, but as with anything his hedonistic pleasure would not be put off by a few mysteries.  Coiling a comfortably warm arm around Lexie’s waist he guided her to the open doorway.  Before they passed through he glanced once at the small distracted looking Asian man who had entered the shop.  Seemed he wasn’t the only one seeking answers about the beyond today.  Perhaps they would see the man when they returned to the front of the shop for tea, or perhaps the man was to play some unknown part in the drama ahead.  No way to tell and so Caine did the only thing there was to do.  A door opened…so he went through it.

When he and Lexie crossed the threshold the door snapped shut quickly behind them and he felt a swift cold wind at their backs that brought with it an even headier whiff of incense.  The room was pitch black around them so much so that his magically enhanced amber eyes glowed like hot coals in the darkness but could make out nothing in the abyss.  Taking advantage of the darkness he let his fingers squeeze Lexie’s rounded hip and then his hand slid sinuously from her hip, down over the pert swell of her bottom, and slipped away.

“Mon chere….” He addressed the mysterious ‘she’ waiting for him in a melodic French voice.  “I have come….I suppose you already know the spirit that I seek?”

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Memory: London, 1888

Somewhat groggy and disoriented, Alec Dresden awoke slowly and with a blinking surprise found himself lying upon his own bed, fully dressed. Moreover, there was an uncomfortable, strained feeling in his arms that made him look up and realize that his hands were tied above and behind his head to his own bedpost. This indignity made him struggle immediately within his cloth bindings, despite the aching weakness of his limbs at the moment.

"Careful, mon ami," came Caine Valmont's familiar accented voice from a corner of the room that had been out of his line of sight. Alec turned and saw Caine cross from the fireplace to the foot of the bed. "There's no need for violence," Caine  remarked with a casual smile.

Dresden frowned at Valmont with outrage. "What is the meaning of this? Why have you tied me up like some, some--?"

"Prisoner," Valmont finished. He pursed his luscious lips smugly, as if relishing the word. "You are my prisoner, Dresden. These past several cases and experimentations, you have continually ignored my warnings to slow down and take a holiday from your exhausting work." He shook his head and shrugged, "I could not abide by such defiance any longer, so I devised a quite simple plan which you did not foresee at all, as you do not expect deceit or mutiny from me, and I was quite successful.

"As you have no doubt remembered or deduced by now, at the end of this last case, as we were leaving for home, I abruptly chloroformed you in the carriage to put you in my power. Then we rode home together tranquilly enough, and, giving to the driver and Mrs. Hudson the excuse that you had fallen asleep during our ride, I brought you up to your bed where I now keep you prisoner." He asserted quite definitely, "You shall not go on another investigation or conduct one more mystical experiment again until I say you may."

After Dresden's facial expression had progressed through varying states of anger and disbelief during Valmont's speech, he finally scoffed. "If you wish to keep me prisoner, Valmont," Dresden worked at his bindings again, "you shall need far more effective restraints than these mere knotted handkerchiefs, from which I will soon free myself."

"Of course," Valmont acknowledged, stepping closer now with that silken stride and grasping Dresden by his wrists to halt his wriggling motions to loosen the knots. Dresden growled and moved to kick at Valmont with his free legs. Caine released the mans wrists and quickly blocked the blow. He still held onto Dresden's legs as he pushed him slightly aside and sat down on the bed beside him. Valmont remarked quite calmly, "The restraints are only symbolic. You are of course capable of freeing yourself from them, as I do not have a limitless number of arms." He gave an odd chuckle at the end that made Dresden eye him closely, that laugh as rich as melted choclate.

At that point, Dresden glanced toward the far clock and realized how much time he had lost--nearly two hours. Valmont had not been as excessive in his dose as some kidnappers Dresden had investigated, but Valmont had certainly given himself ample time. --But for what, exactly? Something vaguely sinister nagged at the back of his mind, but Dresden couldn't quite put words to it yet, distracted by pain. He was freshly determined to escape, however, and he began to loosen his bindings again, still glancing at Caine warily.

The golden god of a man simply released his grip on Dresden's legs and innocuously folded his hands, smiling placidly. Valmont was a strange, unnerving captor indeed. "I do not know what you think you have accomplished," Dresden muttered irritably. "I shall not feel compelled to do a thing that you say, Valmont, and I shall be vigilantly watchful now against you arming yourself with chloroform."

Such was the sacrifice of getting Alec Dresden to take a few hours sleep amid his mad obsessions, but a price which Caine paid gratefully.  There was no price he would not pay to force good health upon Alec, and there was nothing he preferred more than the sight of this disturbingly uncompromising man bound in silk against the bed.

"I know the boi you seek..." the rich velvet voice unfurled from the figure standing in front of a large mahogany desk in a polished, clean lined basement office. Recessed lighting, marble floors, glass and dark woods with splashes of red to compliment spoke of the modern age, even in voodoo. It was polar opposite of what one would expect to find. Long brazen red nails lifted to brush the ebon hair away from her eyes, the swoop bangs stylish, but sometimes a woman needs to see what's before her with a clear visual field. Thick graceful lines of kohl lined the large penetrating eyes that were now sweeping up and down both the man and the woman at his side.

Upstairs was a marketing tool. Azoic Tea, flashy rooms, gawdy accoutrements, books and lessons. It was all real enough but only if you had the gift. Only then would any of it mean anything. The real magic, the crux of Voo Doo, the winding, chilling dark art that made grown men cry in their beds at night, needed only the proper vessel. Queen Ophelia was that vessel. A sleek red dress tailored to the lady's form saw its way to her knees, from there a length of creamed coffee skin then the Pour La Victore black pumps, platformed and four inches, all snapped the image of robed, freaky Voodoo Queen right out of the basement office they were currently occupying.

Curvaceous rounded hips pushed off the desk, Ophelia turning to walk behind the extremely sedate mahogany furniture to an armoire that stood to one side. Seen only to eyes that know, the dark swirl of iridescent residue followed the lady like a high quality shadow, shifting and moving as she did, but settling so closely around her when she stopped, it seemed to vanish.

"Iko-iko, sit." There was a round table to the right of where Caine and Lexi stood. Three chairs positioned around it, in the center a simple black silk triangle of cloth. As the pair took a seat, the armoire doors were opened and within were the tools of her religion For that was what VooDoo was at its very essence. It was not trickery or magic, it was a belief grounded in faith; with gifts and rituals that, once perfected in one holding the natural affinity, was good reason for those grown crying men. The Catholic Church had a veritable library on Voodoo. One always knew about their enemy, it seemed

Wangas, bargaining with your soul, bringing another soul to you, these were not the tricks of the vagabonds peddling gris gris in the streets of New Orleans. These were the acts of a Voodoo Queen. One that did not need to solicit, for the spirits drew to her those who should be.

Her back to Caine and Lexi, the red dress was opened from the front and left to drop The Tignon, an elaborate headdress of gold, silver, feather and silk, was placed on the regal head. The image of nbzambi etched across the finely boned shoulder blade, declaring the Great Spirit, the primary of all spirits. Distant drums beat out a slow, monotnous rhythm, their location unknown but the power floated through the room, dark finger like tendrils invading the immediate area.

Ophelia turned, shining ebon strips criss crossed her body, an item in each hand. Already her torso was moving in faint jerking movements slighty forward, abdominal muscles tightening with the reactionary spasms of a power that would bring to this room, that which Caine sought.

(Alec pops in from here : http://wickedlabyrinth.activeboard.com/t43696992/journey-of-an-ingenue-alec-andi/ )

“What the devil….”

If Shin, the automatic writer, had pen to paper then he might be scribbling out Alec’s words as they were spoken.  Because no sooner had Alec found himself popping out of existence in Alexandra’s bedroom than he found himself popping back into existence in some odd tea house or opium den by the looks of things.  How much time had passed between one place and the other he hadn’t the faintest awareness.  Travel through the ley could be fraught with misconnections and torrents of time eddies. 

The power that drew him however had no connection to the ley whatsoever and in fact was so in opposition to his own that Alec felt as though some inner conflict were raging between his own powers and those of the one who called him.  As he was drawn on invisible strings through the shop he reached out towards the table where Shin sat and exerted a sudden push of energy that brushed over the mans papers, knocking some of the items to the floor.  Of course, it would seem as if some phantom wind had done the deed because away from his host, Alexandra, and with his power quite out of its element here, Alec could be neither seen nor heard by those around him.

His noncorporeal being was gliding across the floor towards a doorway and he rather hated the gut wrenching sensation of being pulled this way.  Twisting and turning against it he muttered a hasty ‘oh bother’ before giving up entirely and letting himself be sucked through the physical doorway, watching the matter pass him in a rush, and into the room beyond.  As soon as his eyes laid their sight on Ophelia he knew who was responsible for this disaster.  Voudan.  Stuff and nonsense.

“Madame, if…you…please.”  Stopping short of her his hands gripped the edges of his waist coat and adjusted them into place as though her pull had dislodged things. “If I only had a body I’d show you a thing or two about summoning you insufferable swamp witch.”

Ranting to himself he didn’t realize at first that Ophelia wouldn’t be able to see or hear him.  Her powers could call him, since he was in fact a spirit, but he was not exactly all-dead.  Only mostly dead.  The conflicting nature of their powers acted as a natural guard between them that made him vocally and visually hidden from this strange woman.  Only after a second of wasted fretting over his waistcoat did Alec realize who else was in the room with them and his storm ridden eyes settled on Valmonts face was a passage of riotous emotions.  First delight, then confusion, then rage at the nature of this calling.

“Idiot.  You insufferable fool Valmont.”

Of course the words were wasted since no one in the bloody place could see or hear him.  Alec tried to use his power to connect to the ley and make himself visible but the vaudan womans power made the ley hazy and vague.  Scowling at her he stalked towards the place where Caine and Lexi sat. If Shin was in an automatic writers haze out in the shop he would be getting plenty of things down on paper now.

“Don’t any of you know that the basic laws of magic make it impossible for me to communicate with her spook magic raining down on me? Fools.  Idiots.  Does no one teach these things anymore? Or do you all just ram through life throwing your powers to the wind like leaves on the breeze?”

There was only one connection still open to him and that was through his host.  As he was being pulled from Alexandra’s room he had thought he was being called by some sort of medium or animator and had sent her to the graveyard to look for him, but clearly he had been wrong.  Not that Alec ever admitted to being wrong, no, he was only mistaken.  Even with his keen intellect and superior genius he could not be expected to completely follow the logic of such rash and unschooled buffoons. 

Reaching out towards his host in the only way he knew how he sent a call to Alexandra that would echo through her in the graveyard.  “ALEXANDRA! I’m being held hostage in some lunatic’s tea shop! Come fetch me IMMEDIATELY!”

As he stood in the solemn darkness and felt Lexie’s fingers brush the back of his he joined her in the humming of that small tune.  An arm draped across the cinch of her lower waist to draw her in close to the golden hum of his own energy just as the candles flames leapt to life and filled the room with a glow that revealed their mysterious host.  Glittering amber eyes raked over the body of the woman before him and the look in his eyes made no bones about the fact that he was imagining her at that moment without her clothes on.  Lexie too in fact.  Possibly both of them, on some kind of fur rug, giggling gleefully while they rolled their supple skin against one anothers….

"Iko-iko, sit."

Looking in the direction she indicated he saw the table heaped with offerings to some dark unknown god.  Then again, given that the last time he was in a church he had been chased out for deflowering a nun in her holy vestments, it was a pretty certain bet that all gods were dark and unknown to him.  What use did he have for spiritual insanity when there was so much sustenance in the world of the flesh.  Drawing Lexie along with his he pulled the money clip from his pocket and peeled off pills to lay on the offering table.  His disregard for money was such that it didn’t even occur to him to check the amount he leafed off.  This was an important cause and even if the woman was a charlatan it would be something he could cross off his list of things to try.

“Now chere perhaps you’d care to…”

Having deposited his money on the offering table he took a seat and encouraged Lexie to take his lap as her perch.  The nimble fox was hardly a burden and then he could easily run his fingers through the thickness of her russet hair, watching as the candle light played off the deep wealth of colors in those strands.  He had just begun to speak in that thick honied voice when Ophelia began her ritual and even Caine hushed for that.  Straightening a bit in his seat the hard contours of his chest fit against the curve of Lexie’s back as they watched the voodoo woman summoning the spirits. 

"Your boi is here..."

When it was over and the room was still they seemed to all hold a collective breath.  Caine’s gem bright amber eyes roamed the room like he was searching the depth of the shadows for the man he sought.  Not a shadow moved, nor did any sudden ghostly spirit seem to materialize.  Looking at Lexie he asked with his eyes if she saw anything, but her face seemed as unimpressed as his own. 

“Is it….was something supposed to happen?”

Maybe it was a delayed sort of magical reaction.  Perhaps Alec would pop up at five past the hour.  It wasn’t as though Caine was an expert at matters of voodoo so how would he know? Really.  He had other areas of expertise but the calling and managing of the dead was not on that list. 

“Alec….”

Lips as indulgent as an angels parted as he whispered that name and for the first time there was something more than the promise of carnal sin in his voice.  There was pain, love, and hope wrapped up in that name held so dear, and in return he felt….nothing.  The room was empty and his glittering eyes looked back at Ophelia who seemed quite certain that she had brought the spirit there for him.  Rising up from the chair with a hand gliding over Lexie’s firm backside he gave an incline of his head towards the voodoo priestess, an attempt at politeness in the face of disappointment. 

“Your assistance is most appreciated Madam.”

It was the beginning of an exit as anyone could tell.  Suspecting that Alec would not appear here at the call of this woman he was prepared to go have a spot of tea and continue on with his search.  Little did he knew that Alec Dresden was standing there at that very moment cursing him for a fool.  Had he heard but one whisper of the man’s insanity he would have believed.  Only Alec could find so many ways to call you an idiot in such beguiling tones. 

She drifted for a long moments, hearing the banter between the one that held her and the other woman, the one that referred to her as a snack, shivering despite the warm summer air. There was a glimmer, just a hint of what was Mr. Dresden, she could feel it but it pulsed and faded along in counterpoint to her own rushing heartbeat. Lashes flickered as she felt... soemthing... surging around the one that held her and then, a rush of air.  Her eyes dazed as she sought to look around, a faint whimper escaping as she realized they were in the air, flying. She curled closer to her captor, head turning to bury her face against the leather of his coat.

She only looked again when she felt them touch ground, lashes fluttering as she struggled to focus. "Is he here?" it was a whisper, barely a breath of sound, but she could feel him. A tea house? It looked like it might be one.

The vampire's words went unnoticed as he carried her inside, her hand lifting to rub at her eyes as he sat her down, searching for some glimmer of her tutor. Her eyes flicked from one person to the next, before focusing on... a shadow? It was like the reverse of the glimmers she saw, instead of shimmering light this seemed to be a lacking of light but it seemed to have a familiar silhouette.

"Mr. Dresden?" She stepped towards where it seemed to be, weaving unsteadily. Everything felt muffled, like being in a soundproof room where every sound fell deadly with no echo. It was him though, wasn't it? "Please, I know you can make them see you. You wanted me here... now what do I do?" There was a hint of panic underlying her words. She must sound insane, talking to some empty air. 

"Tea and trouble, trouble and tea..." At least mad Sienna knew they were in a tea shop. She could smell them. Everywhere. Along with humans, fear, dread, and vexation. It was a heady blend. Sienna's fingers clutched the sides of her jagged hemmed skirt while they stood in that basement swinging the fabric to and fro and swaying to a tune only heard in her own head.

She looked to the man with the woman who seemed to be leaving. Nothing there. Strangeness that would not compute in her mind, then to the dark skinned woman with the apparatus on her head.

"To a God that no longer cares you pray, but He still listens, why? Why does He listen? Nobody listens...." Sienna went quiet, her mind conjuring a long ago scene of a village where the children ran happily and the dogs yipped for a juicy bone. The smell of fields and cooking meat weighing heavy on the air. She felt the laughter in her chest. What was that? Happy. She'd been happy once.

Standing here in the middle of all these people, she could pretend it was happy. Skirts flipping around her legs, her body swaying back and forth, a look of pleasure washed down her face. Lips still stained with the crimson kiss she looked more insane than ever. Though perhaps the opposite was true in those seconds of clear memory.

"Shhhh....we have to be quiet. He says we do. So the little lost one can get him...."

"Your boi is here..."

 “Boi? Well I never….does she know…Madame do you know whom you are addressing…”

 No one was listening to him, but that certainly did nothing to curb the acidity of Alec Dresden’s tongue as he began delving into the litany of reasons her terminology was inappropriate, insulting, and ridiculous.  There may even have been a threat or two added with the proviso that he first obtain a body with which to thrash her about the place.  As he ranted Caine and his chummy little niblet were moving, but Alec was choosing to ignore them.  After all why should he pay any attention to a man so insufferably stupid who couldn’t so much as have a spot of tea without some tart or other in tow. 

 “Alec….”

 The sound of his name formed on Valmont’s lips brought with it a rush of memories so dear to him that his rant stopped short.  Of course, ignoring Valmont was made much easier by the fact that he was invisible but he hardly thought that was important.  Still stubborn as ever he kept his back turned to the man and his storm shot eyes narrowed on the priestess who was setting down her primitive items of ritual. 

 “Your assistance is most appreciated Madam.”

 “Oh yes her assistance was very bloody appreciated.  I can see the great strides of progress we’ve all taken from this little romp.”

 Fingers pinched at the font pockets of his vest and in an irritated movement he adjusted it with a huff.  That was about the moment when the door burst open and even Alec turned to see Andi being carried in by a tall Master Vampire and his lunatic sidekicks.  Brows rose in sweeping arches as his storm shot eyes widened.  He was just about to reprimand Alexandra when he felt the vampires power ruffle over him like invisible hands causing him to move just a bit side to side like he was shaking off some piece of flotsam.

 “Do you mind!?” Really he was coming to find that the supernaturals in this town were a handsy bunch when it came to their power.  

 “Snuff your flame priestess or the spirit you’ve called will remain hidden.  His light cannot exist when compromised by yours.”

 “Ah, at last.  Someone with a little sense.” Sighing almost regally he raised a bored brow and looked at the man he was referring to as well as his two companions.  “Just my luck, the one with the sense is dead and in league with mental patients.  Typical.”

 Then the familiarity of this radioactive blonde gentleman suddenly slid into place and once again Alec’s eyes widened.  Alexandra was tottering towards him looking as drunk as a skunk though he suspected the blood marks on her neck were the cause of that.  Again his storm cast eyes snapped to Azrael, the once owner of Mr. Lindens Library and employer of his former protégée Tynan Faust.  Some people might believe in coincidence as a factor in things, but Alec did not fit into that category.  He was positive there was an equation of logic fit to explain any circumstance which played out on a universal level, and this happenstance was no different to him. 

 "Please, I know you can make them see you. You wanted me here... now what do I do?"

 “Alexandra my dear girl do take a moment to compose yourself, you look a fright.”

 The girl would be able to hear every word but for the others his voice would fade in like a radio station being tuned as the priestess let her power stop molesting him like some kind of dominatrix from a hell dimension.  When he felt the aura of the vampire and the choke hold of the priestess slide away he reached for the ley line again and found its light bursting through him as he popped into focus with that sudden sound almost like a can of soda opening.

 “And you madame.  I will thank you to know that though you may fancy yourself a talent your incantations are sloppy, your power lacks discipline and that head dress….frankly….is ridiculous.”

Nevermind that she’d been able to summon him there in the first place.  In his mind he was calling that a parlor trick.  Even children with a Ouija board sometimes managed to draw a spirit close and that certainly didn’t make them or Parker Brothers magical experts in his opinion.  Now that he was quite visible and audible he did that lifelong habitual ritual of turning his fingers in a half twist through the unmanageable dark mass of his hair and followed it up with a little jaunt of his chin as if to say ‘I know you can see me and I don’t care, I don’t want to bother with any of you’. 

 “Valmont would never be caught dead in the Twilight Zone his vanity would never settle for it.” That was directed at the vixen who was looking at Alexandra like she was insane.  Imagine.  “Now, what was so important that I was dragged here in the middle of a very important discussion with my pupil?”

 Of course he couldn’t remember now what in the name of Beltane he and Alexandra had been discussing, or why it was important but he’d be damned if he was going to let them know that.  Pride was one of the seven deadlies that fit Alec to a T and considering the current company he was keeping he’d be willing to bet they had the other six well in hand.