M(o)using

[Miri]

Inara lay upon the black couch in the mausoleum.  Lucian was not home, the lack of his presence lending the private rooms of his crypt an eerie feeling, but Inara paid that no more mind than she did the dancing shadows cast against the smooth, white marble walls from the candelabra.

She needed time to think, a quiet span in which to sort through her jumbled thoughts and, whilst she liked her beach house well enough, the mausoleum was quieter.  No one would think to look for her in the private chambers of a vampire and Lucian would not be home for quite some time.

Inara sighed.  So much trouble in so little time.

Kahlith, the leader of her guild and one of the first people to trust her, had left without word or trace.  He had, through a third party, given the private shack to her, but he had given no reason for nor warning of his departure.  Whilst his was not a huge loss, for she had rarely seen the shady drow, still it rankled that he had gone in such a manner.
When she had first found herself alone, thrown off the ship she had grown up on for being both a woman as well as a cat, Kahlith had taken her in, given her direction and had never complained about her gender and antics.  Now he was gone.

Navun still did not approve of her, which hurt a little.  Navun was her sister, a cat she had sacrificed much for, and yet she was also straight-laced and prim.  The only laces Inara could lay claim to were the loosely tied ones on the front of her leather bodice.  But should that matter so?
Inara was not promiscuous, she just liked to flirt.  Navun, however, thought differently, or so it seemed from her snide comments and sideways glances.
Perhaps she had been better off without her litter mate.  Perhaps she should have just left the strange bedraggled cat in the slave chains, gone on her way and thought no more of it.  Perhaps, if she had, she could have taken to the seas when things had started to turn sour, instead of hanging around the shore in an attempt to aid her newfound sister and staying on afterwards only to suffer those disapproving sniffs and ungrateful talks.
Families were over-rated!

Inara snorted her unhappiness and stood, crossing the small room to retrieve a bottle of wine from the dresser.  It was not often that she drank alcohol.  The smell of it turned her stomach, the taste always sour on her delicate palate, yet sometimes she felt the need for something a little stronger than cows milk.
Few would think that a vampire would keep a store of wine in the house, but then few knew Lucian like she did.  Not only did he have wine, but it was always the best that he could lay his cold dead hands upon.  As she poured the wine into a silver goblet and took a sip, she was grateful that he did.  It was easier on her than the cheaper varieties.
First replacing the bottle in its dresser, she wrapped her hands about the goblet and then wandered back to the couch.

Whilst those things bothered her, it was the most recent set of events that set her teeth on edge.

A few months back she had made the mistake of flirting with a particularly pretty elf by the name of Icemere.  In doing so, she had discovered his innocence and had found his confusion at her friendliness highly amusing.  That alone had spurred her on to even greater heights, for it made her laugh to see him blush so fiercely.
However, his uneasiness had led him to speak with his betrothed who, as it turned out was as silent as she was scary.  That dratted maiden had appeared out of nowhere and had told Inara in no uncertain terms that she could either aid some people she knew in the opening of a box and recovery of an item or else her life would not be worth living.
Granted, the purple-eyed female had not used those words exactly, but there was an air of self assurance, danger and barely contained killer about her that had spoken more than any words could convey.
Inara had a highly tuned sense of preservation, and thus she had gone to the appointed place as swiftly as possible.  It was there that it all happened.

For the second time, Inara had met the drow Rayne.  Instantly, the snooty sooty-skinned one had been on the offensive, saying things that had confused the cat.
Inara had wondered what the drows problem was.  Was she jealous over Inara's previous associations with Rease?  If so, then it was misplaced, for Inara wanted nothing more than to get that cheating, lying, buffoon out of her life for good.
Was she still angry over that incident in the tavern?  If so, then she needed to get over herself.  A case of bad timing was hardly cause for such a grudge.

All that aside, she had done as she had been asked and, against her better judgement, had even given the artifact back to the ungrateful gutter wench.  Oh, she had not been tempted to steal the necklace.  That thing had bothered her from the moment she had unlocked the box.  It had smelled... funny, added to which it had been a collar: Inara's least favorite accessory.
When the drow had put it around her neck, Inara had shuddered for more than one reason, and when the drow had disappeared, the hair had risen on the back of Inara's neck.

She had left then, but had been called back a little later.  Rayne had been disoriented and... strange.  Instantly, Inara knew it was something to do with that accursed collar and thus, like the others, she had tried to convince the fool to take it off.  Unlike the others, though, Inara knew that any attempt at showing concern for a maiden who detested her would not go down well, and thus she had scoffed at, laughed and even goaded Rayne, but to no effect.

That had been bad enough, but when Keely, a woman that Inara had thought of as a friend, had looked at her like some common criminal, afraid that she would take off with another of the items she had been asked to retrieve, Inara had wondered why she bothered.
She had never stolen from a friend, never given Keely cause to think her untrustworthy.  But then, she thought with a wry smile, who would wittingly trust a thief?

Later, nearing the end of the whole sorry encounter, Vendim, the one who had asked the scary elf maiden to track her down, had bitten her!
She did not know why and, had she not been busy arguing with Rayne, would have swiped for him.  He had big teeth, but she had long claws.  Even now the mark on her leg had not healed and even now it hurt.  She rubbed at it, a low growl rising and falling in a throat more used to purring.  Whatever his reasons, that was one person she would never help again!  He had not even paid for her services!

Inara sighed once more, downed the goblet of sweet wine and moved to get herself a refill.
When had her life become so... confusing?
When had all the fun leeched away, leaving nothing but arguments and grief?