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Ceremonial Killer (Haruchai x BeauteousDeath)

She nodded at his words and waited as he called Banta about issuing a Tahoe for them. She ignored any glances from the guests in the lobby as the two agents passed through. She slid into the passenger's seat as Cross opened the door for her. She didn't think she'd be able to get used to the chivalry he showed her, but she sure as hell wasn't about to argue with it right now, if ever.

She buckled quickly just as he started out for the road slowly. She hated driving in snow, especially when she wasn't the one behind the wheel, but he knew the terrain better so she would just have to sit back for now. She leaned back in her seat, but couldn't relax as she kept her eyes on the road. Her thoughts divided between the road, last night, and the case. All ingredients for chaos and mayhem in her own head...

Jordan sat up a bit. Ingredients! she exclaimed to herself.

" 'In another's blood comes my life. When the last heart beats its last, mine starts. Their breath becomes my wish. With her eyes, comes my sight. With her hide I have mine.' They're ingredients to what the killer needs we know that, and the last one, 'The end is nigh, and all shall fail', the warning, after that should be something along the lines of what we can expect when he's finished, I think that's what we need to figure out next," she said to him then, "So when we get to the library, lets focus on those lines," she said to him with a short nod.

Agent Owen was back in gear... sort of. She never thought of the sayings as ingredients before, but that's exactly what it was. The bodies didn't correlate with the sentence that was found on the scene, but it did warn them how they would find a murder victim.
 
Cross drove slowly and carefully, and started a bit as Jordan sat up suddenly and then started to speak. He listened as best he could while concentrating on the roads, the large rear-wheel drive sedan sliding a bit, despite the salt that had been spread out. The plows were out as well and Cross had to avoid being hit a few times on his way to pick up the truck.

In truth he had heard little of what Jordan said. He had to concentrate to keep things moving, and he simply nodded.

They made it to the depot, and sure enough, a truck was waiting for them. Cross looked at Jordan. "You stay here, I'll be right back." He hopped from the car and popped the trunk, gathering what few things they had in the car, before moving to the truck and starting it to let the engine warm as he put the things in and the set about putting the chains on the tires. From what he had seen they would need them. He then went back to collect Jordan.

Opening her door he held out a hand. "Hold onto me, the lot is slick." he said, and held her hand tightly. He walked to the truck, holding her hand, and opened her door for her. Helping her in he then went around to the driver's side, set the seat, and by now the inside was comfy.

"To the library." he said with a smile and gave her leg a squeeze.
 
She waited in the car, a look of amusement on her expression as he started up the truck and put their few belongings in it. She definitely wasn't going to get used to being taken care of, and she half liked it, half disliked it. She held onto him, and was glad for it when she nearly slipped halfway to the truck, laughing as she held onto his arm as he helped her get her feet under her again. Then she was in the truck and buckling herself in as he slid into the driver's seat.

She figured he didn't hear her when she spoke earlier in the other car, once she received affirmation on that, completely understanding considering he was driving on icy roads, she rehashed over what she said, green eyes on the road again, though this time, she felt more comfortable since they were in a much bigger car, with chains on the tires.

"So what do you think?"
 
Cross was able to listen better this time, and mulled over her idea. "You know, I think you might be right. We'll have to check it out." The drive went well and despite the snow the library was open, and several people were moving in and out of it. Though slowly.

Cross shut off the truck and soaked in the heat for a moment. "Be right there baby." he said, falling into familiar routine as he exited and then came around to get her. Taking her arm he walked her inside.

"This way." Cross said, and took her hand and began to lead her back into the stacks.
 
She smiled at little after he considered her theory and leaned back in her seat again. Though she ended up giving him an amused look at what he called her and unbuckling, though before he got to open the door, she did, giving him a smug grin as he helped her down and they headed inside.

Once there, she laced her fingers with his when he took her hand and followed him to the back, "This where you got the manuscripts originally?" she asked him then.
 
Cross smiled as she laced her fingers with his and nodded. "It is. There is, of course, an extensive section on the occult, broken down by country. I started with China, considering that is the nationality of the victims. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look to research other countries as well. Perhaps there is more connecting this whole thing together than what is readily apparent."

Cross led her to that research section and soon they were among the stacks, the books going wel out of reach above their heads and very few people in the library today.
 
She nodded a bit, "I'm kind of thinking that maybe it isn't just Chinese occult, but various other types as well, there was mostly Satanic designs on one wall in every crime scene so far, but the way the bodies were found, it doesn't completely correlate with Satanism, or Chinese," she said to him as they made their way to the Occult section.

Jordan jumped a bit at the feel of her cellphone in her pocket, she'd set it to vibrate so the sound wouldn't disturb anyone. She let go of Cross' hand and pulled it out of her pants pocket then answered, her voice soft, "Owen," she said, then she stood there, looking at the ground for a minute as she listened to whomever was on the other end.

"Are you sure that's what you found?" she asked, slender brows knitting together in confusion, "Alright, let me know if you can actually identify it," she said then, "Yeah, you take care too," she replied before she pressed the end button on her cell.

Then she looked up at Cross, "There was something new at the last scene," she told him, "A third set of DNA, we have the victim, the killer, and now the third set to which Forensics can't even identify as a type of mammal or reptile or amphibian or anything, not even plant based," she continued on, her tone completely bewildered, her voice soft as she kept the volume down in the library.
 
Cross paused as Jordan took the call and then listened as she passed along what the lab had said. "That makes no sense." Cross said, stating the obvious. "I'm sure they're going to run everything through CODIS and NDNAD. Maybe that will give us some answers. Or make more questions." Cross continued on the path they were on, though slower and obviously in thought.

Cross found himself in the section detailing Ancient Religions. Ingredients. Unidentified DNA. What the hell did it all mean? He pulled a copy of "Tao Te Ching" off the shelf and looked through it. Several pictures of demons were shown and his mind started to form a half-baked idea. He sighed.

"Jordan." he said softly and gestured her over. "I think we've mentioned it, but I'm starting to think there is some sort of cult involved. Doesn't matter if you don't believe it, or hell, if I don't believe it. But to the people involved, THEY believe it. If that is what is going on, then this thing might be... worldwide. I think I am going to make a few calls. You know that murders like this actually happen all the time. The only reason this particular one is getting so much attention is because it is localized."

Cross moved a few short steps away and dialed his cell, talking quietly through several calls...
 
Jordan gave him a helpless shrug on what the Forensics team do to identify the third set of DNA. She was sure they were going to do what they can to succeed, and followed him slowly to the Ancient Religions section. She stood back a bit and set her hands on her hips for a moment before pulling her winter coat off and draping it over the back of one of the chairs behind her. Then removed her dress jacket and folded it on the table, then she started rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. Her Glock was quite visible on her right hip, and her FBI badge on her left as she stepped over, "I think you're right on this. Whomever they are, they believe they're doing something, I'm thinking summoning, or resurrecting someone, or something," she told him in a low voice.

She went over to a section that represented the same topic, but a different country, in this case, it was Egypt. She browsed through a bit before picking what she thought to be the most promising book that was titled Religion in Ancient Egypt: Gods, Myths and Personal Practice. Then she opened it and took it over to the table to sit and start reading.

She leaned forward a bit, sitting on the edge of her chair, her left elbow on the edge of the table and holding her forehead after tucking a stray lock of hair behind her left ear. Her typical studying position for those that had known her for years or watched her research.
 
Cross stood for a few minutes with the book, and watched as Jordan took off her coat. She was an alluring woman, and he shook his head, wondering why nobody else saw that in her. But after a moment he turned back to his book, flipping the pages and looking for anything that might remind him of some of the symbols or writing they had seen at the crime scenes.

He wandered back toward Jordan, and despite the fact they were looking into the case, and despite the fact that the library was public - Cross had to touch her. He found her irresistible.

He moved up behind her and asked softly, "Find anything interesting?" He bent over her, the coat her wore moving forward and shadowing them both slightly as he peered over her shoulder, his book in his left hand. His right was free and he set it on her shoulder companionably.

As she answered him that same hand slid downward, slipping along her collar and beneath the fabric of her shirt to slide along her skin until he reached her bra. There, that questing hand gently cupped her breast over the fabric of the undergarment and the pad of his thumb rubbed at her nipple. It was not a rough grope, and those casually looking might only notice him leaned and peering over her shoulder, so subtle was his movement.
 
She glanced at him for a moment from his question and shook her head as she looked back at the book, "Nothing I... haven't... heard-," she ended up having some trouble thinking as his hand slid under her shirt, over her skin. She straightened in her seat a bit as he cupped her breast, an inaudible sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes. She was certainly wanting nothing more than for the two of them to have a quick romp. Jordan had been forcibly pushing the thought to the back of her head, "Already," she finally managed to finish her sentence with a slight shiver.

How the hell did he get that response out of her with a simple, yet intimate touch?
 
Cross grinned at her reaction - a gasp and a stutter. He leaned down, hand closing more roughly over that soft globe of flesh as his thumb and forefinger pinched her nipple hard, rolling it gently. His mouth close to her ear now he breathes out in a rasp, "So tell me, which do you want first, your pussy licked, or stuffed?"

He withdrew his hand and stood back up, looking at his book and putting her in a position to say what she wanted aloud so that he might hear. A simple word really, 'licked' or 'stuffed'. Or perhaps something else entirely, and even should someone overhear they'd not know the context. Though might be able to hazard a guess.

Cross moved around the table and set down his book, removing his coat as well, and rolling up his sleeves a bit before he sits, just across and down from her. He rests his elbows on the table and simply looks at her, a knowing and somewhat coy smile on his face. It is obvious he is waiting on an answer.
 
Jordan actually grew dizzy from his words. DIZZY! Snap out of it Jordan, you're on the job right now, she thought to herself. Much to her dismay, and pleasure, oddly enough, she couldn't snap out of it. She had been aroused all morning, since their shower together. As he moved away she took in a deep breath. Careful to only look down at the book.

After a few moments though, she looked up at him to see he was looking at her, obviously expecting an answer. She ended up blushing a bit, but grinned all the same, "At the moment, stuffed," she told him softly before she looked back down at the book. Though she couldn't concentrate on the words now, especially with him still looking at her.
 
Cross knew exactly what he was doing to her and he delighted in it actually. He watched her closely and then grinned at her answer. He'd most certainly accommodate. He loved that she blushed and he licked his lips as he looked her in the eye. He leaned toward her, almost conspiratorially. "Then stuffed you shall be." he said and then sat back in his chair and started looking through his book. He gave no indication of where or when she might receive such treatment.

Looking through the book Cross found a picture of an inscription. It looked eerily similar to the one in some of the photos at the crime scene. His brow furrowed. He looked over at Jordan. "Find anything interesting yet?" he asked.

It had been a few minutes and he wondered if her mind was in this... or elsewhere.
 
Jordan had a hard time to focus on the task at hand, especially after he made his promise. Eventually, she did find it, and once she focused on the book in front of her, her world ended up narrowing on that. Although there were moments to when her mind sidetracked to him and how he felt, made her feel. Every time she would have to take a deep breath to refocus again.

She almost jumped at the sound of his voice and she looked up and shook her head as she pushed the book back and leaned back in her seat as she rubbed her face, then her neck, "No, I haven't. You?" She was starting to get frustrated, for more than one reason, but she had to focus on the job for now.

"Really hoping you've had better luck than me, Cross," she said softly as she leaned forward again, her eyes still on him.
 
"I'm not sure. I just have this... feeling. Call it instinct if you want. But let's run with the idea that this ties back to a cult. I have yet to hear back from my colleagues, but I'm hoping they can maybe give us some insight. As far as this book..."

He turns the book around and shows her the pages he has held. Each one has a distinctive picture on it, all of the patterns very similar, if not identical, to the symbols painted in the room in the victim's blood.

"...these symbols have been seen for centuries, always at murder scenes. The last time this happened the killer was caught. The Church, the Catholic Church, believed the man t be possessed and performed an exorcism. They claim to have cast the demon, or demons, out of him. Without that driving force, or whatever it was, the man died. This was back in the 18th century. Like clockwork this pattern seems to repeat itself every two to three hundred years."

He pushes the book to her to let her see.
 
Jordan sat back and looked at him as she listened, until he showed what he'd found. At which point she leaned forward again and looked, her brows knitted together in near disbelief, she pulled the books closer to her as he pushed them and she started looking thumbing through the pages. When she hit upon the design that was eerily similar to the ones she'd found at every scene she traced it lightly with her fingertips before she finally leaned back and pushed her hands through her hair.

"That's too much alike with what we've found to simply ignore it," she said to him.
 
Watching her reaction Cross smiled. "We may have just found the break we really needed. We'll have to dig a bit deeper, but if you like I can follow up on this lead and you can pursue the more traditional route if you like."

Just then a door slammed somewhere and Cross turned, hand instinctively drifting toward his gun. He glanced at Jordan, concerned. "Want me to check it out?" he asked softly.
 
Jordan grunted a little, "The traditional route has done shit for everyone so far," she said softly while still looking at the book, she was feeling the crunch. Time was slipping through her fingers as she starting to desperately grasp at straws now to find a solution. So she felt. She leaned forward, elbows on the table to either side of the book and her hands pushing her back, fingertips slowly massaging her scalp. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply as she ignored the beginnings of her migraine coming back, it wasn't bad yet, but it was annoying, compared to the pain she'd been dealing with over the last few weeks.

The door slamming sounded and in an instant, Jordan shot up from her seat and spun around toward the sound, her hand on her gun. Hearing Cross, she looked over to him and nodded, "We both go," she said firmly. Hopefully he got the message that she wasn't taking 'no' for an answer on this.
 
He'd noticed how she was massaging her scalp and knew that the stresses of the case were coming back. He'd have to see to that.

Cross nodded, hand on the butt of his gun, ready to draw, as he moved down the stacks toward the noise. Sure enough, a door was at one end of the stacks, now closed. Cross moved toward it, and nodded to make sure Jordan was ready before he opened it. The door opened to a larger space beyond, more stacks, and a large desk behind which the research librarian sat. A young volunteer was speaking to her and gesturing at the door. "But I told Mr. Thompson about it last week! He still hasn't assigned anyone to fix it. Why can't we just call someone?"

"Because budget does not allow us to, Howard, so unless you want to pay for it out of your own pocket..."

Cross sighed and relaxed a bit. "We're jumpy." he said with a chuckle. He moved to the desk and spoke briefly with the librarian, flashing his badge and identification. He moved back through, shutting the door quietly, and saw a small doorstop. With a sly grin he pushed it so it would block entry from that other side. He turned to Jordan. "She assured me nobody would disturb us. Just making sure."

Cross took her hand and led her back toward their table, but instead drew her into the room with the microfilm. As the door to the room closed Cross pushed her against the wall, her arms easily pinned above her head by the wrists as his mouth claimed hers roughly.
 
Jordan followed him to the door, right hand on her gun, she'd already unsnapped the holster just in case she needed to pull it. Once everything was in the clear, she let out a small breath and snapped the holster back over her Glock and started to head back to their table, but then threw Cross a slightly startled look when he took her hand and lead her instead to the microfilm room.

She was about to yank her hands free from his hands, that is, until she felt his mouth over his. Then she simply returned the kiss, but eagerly. She did at least try to pull her hands free, if he would let her, she would end up placing her left on the back of his neck, and her right on his shoulder, continuing the kiss that was quickly turning, on her end, into a hungry one. Somewhere in her head though she was thinking they shouldn't be doing this, they're on the job, and the time limit was becoming palpable.

So was her desire for him, which was drowning out the thought that was completely her career.
 
As she tugged her hands away Cross let her do so, and was rewarded as she placed them about his neck and shoulders. Her own kiss was hungry and Cross deepened their shared gesture. Tongues danced and played and he drank her kiss like a fine wine, tasting every inch of her mouth greedily. He knew they were on the job, should be working... but damn it all, she'd answered his question and he aimed to fulfill that.

And fill her.

As he released her wrists his hands moved down, fingers deftly working at the clasp of her pants and soon having it undone, one large hand slipping beneath the fabric and into her pants, gently rubbing her pussy through the fabric of those lace panties. He could feel her dampness already.

"Already wet? Mmmm.... naughty." he growled in a low tone, and withdrew his fingers as he used both hands to slide her pants down over her hips, thumbs hooking in her panties as well and drawing them down to bare her smooth sex. He was waiting for a protest, but unless it was immediate his hand found her naked lips, rubbing gently, parting them and sliding along her inner folds.
 
She grew dizzy from the kiss alone as she felt his kiss grow hotter. Moaned softly as his fingers undid her pants and played with her already hot and dampened folds. Needless to say she didn't protest when he pushed her pants and panties down past her hips. Her own hands slid down his shoulders and undid the buttons of his shirt as they continued to drift down, she wanted to feel his skin under palms. After a bit she undid his pants and slid a small, slender hand in and wrapped it around his cock. She moaned softly again as she started stroking him from base to tip and back again, only to repeat, as he parted her folds and slid his fingers through her wetness.
 
As Jordan's slender fingers wrapped about his cock, really barely able to do so, Cross let out a heated moan into their kiss. Then she stroked and he could feel himself throbbing in her hand as he came to full arousal, a drop of thick precum sliding from his tip and coating her fingers lightly. His own seeking finger pressed and rubbed at her clit, priming her for what was to come next.

Cross didn't offer to lick, nor even give her the chance to suck... before he grabbed her ass, hands sliding down behind her thighs and hoisting, forcing Jordan to spread her legs and Cross let her guide his cock to her wet tightness. Then, with a sudden movement he enters her, spreading her wide and feeling her stretch once more. He groaned in pleasure and tilted his head down.

"Consider yourself stuffed you sexy bitch." he said hoarsely, gruffly, even as his hips moved. He pressed her hard against the wall, hips driving him home again and again, head of his cock prodding at her depths over and over as he filled her with himself. His grunts of pleasure matched his thrusts, which slammed her into the wall behind her, over and over.
 
She'd kicked her shoes off and stepped out of her pants, even as his finger played along her clit and she stroked him. As it turned out, for her, it was in time before he lifted her and she gladly spread her legs and wrapped them around his hips, her arms around his shoulders. Feeling that first thrust of him burying him inside of her, inner walls stretching around him as he filled her to the brim, she cried out a moan of pleasure.

Her own head fell forward toward him, her forehead pressed against his shoulder as he took her against the wall. With each of his hard, driving thrusts, a forced grunt of pleasure is let loose from being hit up against the wall, yet she sure as hell didn't care, those grunts slowly grew into soft cries of bliss as he continue to fill her, stuff her.

It didn't take her too long to get close to the edge, as he pushed her there, she started growing a little more vocal, "Fuck yes," was heard often from those lips, even as her fingers gripped his shoulder, her short, but well manicured nails were starting to dig into the skin. She moved her hands at some point, causing her nails to leave dark red welts along the skin over his shoulders, top and the back.
 
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