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Burn my Shadow	By : Khaleesi-Of-Dragons Category: M through R > Raven, The (2012) > Raven, The (2012) Views: 918 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Raven and I make no profit from this story

Chapter List
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
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I can't hear the sceneries/Of constant tragedies/Of what I meant to feel no more/'cause I'm already dead/And I just cannot bear/To hear another word no more/Love songs, they kill me/They kill me... Now/Love songs are killing me/Are killing me... Right now/Love songs are killing me/Are killing me... Right now
I stare into the flames, not worried about the fact that every possession I own has burnt, but that Carl, the little Raccoon of Edgar's, could still be in there. Edgar stands beside me, lighting a cigarette. "A damnation on Earth; hell's brimstone is food, consumed from birth in solitude," Edgar recites in a soft voice, barely heard above the roar of the flames. Men work to put them out, but everything inside has done been destroyed beyond repair. As the flames have mostly died down, the man in charge walks over to us holding a cage covered in cloth.
"The windows were shattered first; I don't think it was an accident." What was your first clue, I think bitterly, looking over at some of the people further down the street; already gossiping like it's any of their business. "Sir, Miss, we also found this." He hefts up the cage, a soft, familiar chittering coming from it. "I'd be happy to take it in if it's not yours."
"The hell you will," I tell him, taking the cage and beginning to walk. Edgar catches up quickly, taking the cage from me and holding my hand in his free one. "Do you think it was the killer who started the fire?" Edgar shrugs his shoulders, letting me lead him to our destination.
"I don't have that answer, little sister."

I give Emmett a grin when he opens his front door with a quizzical look on his face. "Mister Poe, Sarah." He has one hand behind his back, no doubt hiding the pistol he had brought with him.
"I'm afraid we've found ourselves without lodgings tonight," Edgar tells him, adjusting his grip on the cage Carl is resting in. I look down at the Raccoon, sticking my finger through the bars to stroke the fur on its head.
"Yes, I've heard."
I look back up at the man with a raised eyebrow. "Emmett," I say slowly, as if explaining things to a child. "Move out of the way or be moved because I'm losing feeling in my toes here." He finally gets the hint and moves aside to let me enter, but makes Edgar stop.
"Not the animal." Edgar holds up the cage so that Emmett can get a good look at the poor creature.
"Don't be silly, Emmett, Carl's a good boy and knows not to get into things that do not belong to him."
"I'm sure, but I think the porch is more suitable." I give the tall man a dark look, pushing past him and back outside where Edgar had placed the cage on the stone wall. "Miss Poe, what are you doing?" Edgar pats him on the shoulder, shaking his head. "Come inside, you could catch your death out in this cold."
"Oh, and Carl cannot? He's only a little Raccoon and if he can't go inside, then I don't go inside." The Detective looks torn for a moment before picking up the cage and heading inside, placing it on a table in the sitting room.
"Fine, but he stays in the cage." That was fine with me as long as the poor thing didn't have to face the night outside. I pull my robe closer to me, shivering a little as Edgar and I follow Emmett to his study. The room seems organized for the most part except for his desk, which has papers scattered over every inch of it. This makes me feel smug that my earlier assessment of him being a man of order was correct.
"It appears to Baltimore I've become one of the very demons I conceived," Edgar tells Emmett, looking around the room and stopping in front of the fireplace where a small blaze is lit; warming the room. "The fire was intentional, did you know that?"
"Yes, the town is angry, the Mayor wants results." The last part is said in a perfect voice that sounds exactly like the Mayor.
"Another set of unsolved murders, inspector. Is that it?" Outside, the sky opens up and it begins to pour; the thunder and lightning battling each other for attention. Emmett gestures for us to take a seat; Edgar ignoring the offer and pacing the area in front of the desk and I perching myself on the corner of the desk closest to Emmett, seeing a blush slowly creeping up his neck. "He was inches away," Edgar says after a brief moment of silence, rubbing his hands together to warm them. "If I hadn't dropped my weapon..." I give him a sympathetic smile.
"We've made some headway; according to theater records, the sailor's name is Maurice Robichaux. Does that mean anything to you?"
"No," Edgar and I say in unison.
"Cantrell and I made some inquiries at the docks. Apparently, he was signed on to a trading vessel which made port five days ago and, like many sailors, he took employment in the theater, working the backstage riggings. As we know, he wasn't there today." Emmett leans back in his chair with a sigh.
"He knew we were coming," I say softly, looking down at my hands.
"Look, it may be arduous, but, uh, I've learned in order to find a needle in the haystack—"
"Burn the hay to the ground."
"No, you go through the hay." He picks up a few papers, scooting his chair forward so he is closer to the desk. "These ship's records, I think—"
"Ship's records," my brother asks in a deadpan voice, stopping his infuriating pacing. Emmett looks up and sees the incredulous expressions on Edgar's face, a near perfect replica of mine.
"Well, I must remind you both that every detail is important here."
"Tell me Emmett," Edgar starts," are you not piqued by you abject failure to ferret out this assassin?" Oh boy, Edgar is ready to argue. Emmett lowers his head, looking down at the papers on his desk. "You reputation is at stake. Look at me." Emmett leans back again, meeting my brother's fiery gaze without fear, something I can admire if nothing else. "Four people are dead! An angel breaks on the rack of a depraved beast, my sister could possibly be his next target, but this clerk squints over his glasses at ledgers and typing!" He throws papers to the ground in his frustration. "Is this a fucking joke, boy?!" Emmett stands up suddenly, his own anger matching that of my brother's.
"What else should we do?! Run around all of Baltimore screaming out her name?!" I hop up from my position now with a glare.
"Would both of you just calm the hell down," I shout, growing tired of the both of them by this point. "Screaming doesn't solve anything, you half-witted buffoons; it certainly isn't helping Emily! Now, both of you sit back down and, God help me, Edgar, keep pacing and I'll throw you out the window myself!" Both men give me surprised looks, Edgar seeming to be a little offended by my threat. I take several deep breaths to calm down, knowing that smacking them repeatedly would do us no good in the long run, though it would make me feel better right now. Emmett and Edgar face away from each other and I pinch the bridge of my nose in agitation. These two were like stubborn children sometimes.
"Now," Emmett says in a considerably calmer voice," think. Start with the sailor; have you ever written anything about a sailor?"
Edgar shakes his head, turning to face Emmett. "No. Did you speak with the ship captain?"
"I did; Robichaux is a valued crewman—well-liked, had a family back home."
"Where?"
"France…Nimes. Does that mean anything to either of you?" Edgar and I shake our heads despondently. Emmett lets out a frustrated sigh. "See, what I keep asking myself is why Baltimore? TheFortunato had docked in several ports around the world." My head jerks up at the Ship's name, remembering the first time I head the tale of Fortunato; he was a man who pissed off the wrong person and got walled up alive.
"Did you just say Fortunato," I ask with new excitement.
"Yes, but—"
Edgar cuts him off," A thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as best I could." Edgar and I share a giddy smile. Emmett looks confused so I explain what happens in the story and how Fortunato meets his demise.
"There are no catacombs in Baltimore."
"No, but there are tunnels underneath the city," Edgar points out.

With a group of men that Emmett had managed to assemble at such short notice, we gather down in the water works and go over our strategy. "You are looking for anything that would indicate recently laid masonry. We will be timing this; I will blow my whistle as such." Emmett's whistle lets out one long, shrill note, which echoes against the stone walls. "We will then shout her name in unison from all areas of the tunnels." Edgar gives an example of such.
"Wait ten seconds while you listen to see if you can hear something behind the walls," I interrupt, ready to get going. If ya find something, blow on your whistle and the rest of us will come to you, got it?" I get a few mumbled yes, ma'am's. "Then get goin'." I follow after Emmett, now dressed in a loose shirt and trousers that were tucked into a pair of knee-length boots.
"You are a very impatient woman, do you know that," he asks me quietly while observing the tunnel we're in. I let out a breathy chuckle, leaning against him slightly so that I do not slip and fall into the ankle deep water.
"Funny, I could say the same about you." He gives me an amused look before raising the whistle to his lips. I cover my ears to muffle the noise. "EMILY!" The shouts of our merry band echo throughout the tunnels and to my ears, and, for ten seconds, it's the only noise I hear. I scowl, gripping Emmett's arm as we continue on our way. A whistle begins to sound repeatedly, Emmett and I rushing as quickly as we can to find the source.
When we reach the spot I see Cantrell going at the wall with a pick axe; he stops at Emmett's and my arrival. "The mortar's a different color," he says breathlessly, pointing at the wall. Emmett hands me the lantern he was carrying, takes the pick axe, and begins to hit the wall after making sure I was far enough away that I wouldn't get hit by any flying pieces. My brother appears as some of the brick gives away, revealing a gaping hole in the wall for us to look in.
"Is she in there," Edgar asks desperately, coming up beside Emmett and me to look into the hole with the lantern I was holding. I can make out a head of blonde hair, and just behind that I can barely see a man shrouded in black.
"Keep digging," Emmett commands, running down the tunnel to find the man holding who I presumed to be Emily; I chase after him, not about to let him get hurt or worse—killed. We sprint after the shadow, following what little we could see of it and I hoped like hell we weren't just following our imaginations. Emmett pauses, pulling out his pistol and making sure I was still behind him before beginning to jog to the next bend, unsure of which direction to take but aware that the shadow's footsteps had stooped as well. A soft thud makes us both turn in the direction it came from, Emmett hesitantly blowing out our light.
Ahead of us we can see the Shadow holding his own lantern, sprinting around another corner with Emmett and me hot on his trail. Emmett shoots, but the bullet barely misses its target, hitting the wall instead. The shadow rushes up a metal ladder that lead to the surface, Emmett going up right behind him, and I behind Emmett. He suddenly begins to fall, knocking me off my perch and against the wall before I plummet to the ground, landing beside him with a grunt. "Are you alright," he asks, turning his head to look at me.
"Oh, I've certainly been better," I answer, wincing as he helps me to stand. "I think my ass and back agree with me; no more running after you when chasing shadowy figures in tunnels—it only ends in pain and getting to hold your hand."
Later That Night
I walk into Emmett's room, back in my nightgown and robe. He gives me a small smile before returning his attention on his work. The person that the killer had held up for us tonight wasn't Emily, but a dead man dressed at her with his mouth stitched close. I had convinced the men that there was no use examining him when we could all use a good night's sleep that way we wouldn't miss some important detail. "I'm sorry to bother you, Emmett, but my gown is still a bit damp and I was wondering if I could borrow a clean shirt to sleep in?" It was an innocent enough request that he didn't question it, getting up and walking to his wardrobe.
As soon as his back was to me I take off my robe and pull my gown over my head, shaking my thick hair out of the braid I had it in earlier. I was going to get the Detective tonight if it killed me! When he turns and sees me leaning provocatively against his desk, the shirt he had pulled out drops to the floor. His hazel eyes widen as they take all of me in, mouth slowly hanging open. "I take it I'm up to your standards," I smile, twirling a lock of hair around one of my fingers.
"I-I...we c-can't..." I place my hands on his toned chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt; undoing them one by one, I kiss every inch of flesh that is exposed to me. He lets out a low groan, letting me pull him forward by his now-opened shirt and push him down on to his bed and straddle his waist. I trace meaningless patterns on his skin with my tongue, nipping every now and then to hear his gasps. Slowly I make my way up the column of his neck, along his jaw, and let my lips hover over his—wanting him to initiate the kiss. "Your brother—"
"Is a very sound sleeper," I whisper, looking into his lust-filled eyes and rotating my hips gently against the good-sized bulge in the front of his trousers. That was all it took to make Emmett give in, crushing his lips against mine and flipping us so that I am beneath him. I groan, arching against him, fingers tangled in his thick hair.
He kisses along my jaw to my ear, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "What is it about you that tempts me so?" I try to flip us again, but he has both of my hands trapped above my head with one of his and he's straddling my hips. "You're like a Siren," he breathes, gently biting my earlobe—making me let out the slightest of whimpers, but he still heard it; I knew that from the satisfied grin that appeared on his face. I grind my hips against his, reminding him of exactly what he wants to do, what I want him to do. His free hand holds me still. "Not just yet, my Siren."
"You're absolutely right." He glances down at me with a bit of shock. "We can't do anything fun while you're still clothed, Detective." My voice holds a sultry quality that surprises even me, having never noticed it before. The moment I feel his grip on my hands relax, I manage to flip us over; now I'm the one straddling him. He groans as I pull his pants and boots off, letting his engorged member out of the pants confinement and into my mouth.
"Y-you don't have...have…to...do...that," he grunts, trying to pull me up. That's weird, normally men love that; did I do something wrong? He must notice the confused look in my hazel eyes because he draws me up to him, kissing me deeply. "No woman should have to do that to a man." Before I can protest, he has two fingers inside of me and his thumb on the sensitive bud just above my opening. My breath is lost as he curls his fingers, hitting a spot inside me that caused me to see stars.
"Oh, Emm—"I'm cut off by another loud moan, feeling heat wash throughout my body. "Emmett, please!" He was teasing me now, pumping his fingers inside me slower than I thought humanly possible. I close my eyes as ecstasy washes through me, fisting the sheets. Just as I'm about to reach my peak he pulls his hand away and I let out a whimper of disappointment until I open my eyes again and see him crawling over me. He enters me slowly, letting me adjust before beginning the dance I have come to know so well. I raise my hips to meet him thrust for thrust, our tempo picking up the closer we get to finishing. I grip his shoulders, leaving small crescent moons in the tender flesh. I can feel my release rushing towards me, ecstasy crashing into me like a tidal wave. My toes curl and I cry out his name, my muscles clenching around him.
"Sarah," he groans, burying his face in the crook of my neck. We lay beside each other afterwards, my head resting on his chest and his arms circled around me. For the first time since I entered Emmett's office a few days ago, I finally felt safe—I felt secure and loved, really loved by someone other than my elder brother. "Are you alright?" I smile up at him, kissing his chest.
"I'm perfect."
The lyrics are from the song Love songs (They Kill Me) by Cinema Bizarre.
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Burn my Shadow