Deathstalker 06 - Deathstalker Legacy

life, really. No one ever really looked at quiet, dumpy, dependable Anne. She could have been beautiful. She had the money, enough to buy any kind of face or body she wanted. But... everyone would have known why she did it. And besides, she could never have carried it off. She didn't have the confidence, to be beautiful and graceful and . . . sexy.
    And, of course, it would have been admitting defeat. Admitting that no one would ever want the real her.
    There had been Lewis, of course, long ago. He was uglier than she was, but he'd never cared about things like that. Of course, a Paragon could have a face like a dog's arse, and women would still call it rugged, and run after him with their tits hanging out. That's celebrity for you. Anne reached under her desk, and slowly pulled out a long pink feather boa. Jesamine had brought it, as a gift for her. Not knowing Anne Barclay would never be invited anywhere she could have worn such a thing. Even if she could have worked up the courage to wear it. Anne would never dare to wear anything so bright and colorful in public. People would laugh at her. Not openly, of course. But she'd know. She'd watch it later, on her monitors.
    She draped the feather boa around her shoulders and looked at herself in the one small mirror on her desk.
    "You don't know what I want," she said softly. "None of you . . ." There were footsteps right outside her door, and raised happy voices. Anne snatched the boa off her shoulders, and quickly stuffed it back under her desk again. The door swung open, and Douglas and Jesamine came in together, arm in arm, smiling and laughing together. They did make a very attractive couple. They greeted Anne loudly, and she smiled very naturally in return. They took the two comfortable chairs by right, leaving Anne to sit on the edge of her desk, while Lewis closed the door and leaned against it. Jesamine looked back at him.
    "So you're the famous Deathstalker. I've seen you in action many times. On recordings, of course."
    "And you're the even more famous Jesamine Flowers," said Lewis. "And I have every recording you ever released, plus quite a few bootlegs."
    "Ah, a fan!" Jesamine clapped her hands together. "Darling, tell me you haven't got that awful bootleg of me in Verdi's MacB, when I played Lady M in the nude! They shot me from all the wrong angles, and made me look positively plump."
    "If I had seen such a thing, I am far too much of a gentleman to admit it," said Lewis.
    Jesamine turned to grin at Douglas. "You were right; I do like him."
    "You'd better," said Douglas. "He's my oldest and closest friend."
    "And Anne is mine," said Jesamine. "We must form our own little gang; us against the world. Watch each other's back, and always be there for each other. Yes?"
    "Yes," said Douglas, smiling fondly around him. "In an ever-changing world, friends are the only thing you can always rely on."
    "Friends forever," said Anne.
    "I'll drink to that," said Lewis.
    Anne immediately got up and bustled around her office, scaring up more cups and pouring out the last of the tea from her elegant silver teapot. Luckily there was just enough milk and sugar left to go around.
    (There was no booze, no champagne. Anne didn't keep any in her office. She didn't dare.) Douglas raised his cup in a toast, and the others followed suit.
    "To the four of us," Douglas said. "Good friends, now and forever, come what may."
    They all drank to that, though Jesamine was the only one who crooked her little finger. She looked at Lewis thoughtfully.
    "I saw you on the news. You and the Durandal, fighting the ELFs in the Arena. Horrible creatures. So many dead. Tell me, Lewis ... Is it just me or was the Durandal really more interested in killing ELFs than in freeing their thralls?"
    "No," said Lewis. "It isn't just you. Finn's always been very . . . victory orientated."
    "You saved the crowd, but it was Finn they cheered," said Anne. "It's always the good-looking arrogant bastard that wins the crowd's heart. Cocky little shit. Never liked him."
    "He's the greatest Paragon we've ever had," Douglas said sternly. "He does a hard job and he does it well, and that's far more important than whether he's a nice guy."
    "Being a Paragon is about more than just killing people," said Lewis.
    "Yes," said Douglas. "Yes, it is. But when there's killing to be done, there's no one better than Finn Durandal to do it."
    "Oh sod Finn," said Anne. "Forget him. This is our day, not his. We haven't got long