Deep Purple

A/N - Mind you I am almost embarassed to admit authorship here, even though I had a lot of fun writing this. Here\'s chapter two of Deep Purple and oh my, it is really rather more shallow than deep.

Turbulent Terrors

With her quarry safely locked away in Azkaban, Tony felt a thrill of victory. The knowledge that she had protected the jewels of the fabulously wealthy passengers was nothing compared to the awareness that she had bested a villainous knave.

She stepped before the mirror on the luxury cabin’s wall and examined her alabaster skin with sparkling eyes. The cad had left no marks of his lecherous advances, she noted with pleasure.

“You look lovely, dear.” The matronly looking glass declared and Tony blushed modestly at the compliment, for though she knew of her own beauty, she took no great pleasure in it. After all, her beauty had not saved her true love from a terrible death, had it?

Changing from the low cut clinging gown to more elegant robes of lilac that drifted ethereally about her elfin beauty, Antigone pirouetted to be certain no unsightly creases marred her radiant perfection before departing the cabin.

As she stepped outside her chambers she was roughly grabbed and a wand was pressed against the jumping pulse of her swan-like throat.

“At last I have you, wench.” A voice hissed in her shell-like ear as she was held against the muscular length of a man’s thigh. Antigone knew that voice; it had haunted her for years. It was the voice of the man who had killed her last three true loves. Reynard Dubois, the master thief and assassin. Her failure to capture him had rankled in her soul for years.

“Dubois, you’ll never get away with it, whatever you’re planning.” She spat angrily at the man who held her breathless and powerless against him. She trembled with fury at his high-handed treatment of her. “I’ll stop you, somehow!”

“Non, ma petite, this time, you shall do nothing -- nothing but die!” He declared and blackness swallowed her up.


She awoke in a predicament she had faced before. Hanging suspended from a thin rope over a vat of boiling oil, while a basilisk prowled below her and mice nibbled on the ropes.

Reynard Dubois stood, hands on his hips and dark flashing eyes fixed upon her comely figure as it dangled precariously. His wavy black hair and the dangerous gleam in his eyes aroused feelings in her that few other men ever had but she fought them down, the knowledge of his evil ways and terrible deeds tearing her heart asunder.

“Ha, escape from that Antigone!” He laughed cruelly as she twisted frantically in mid-air, twirling her wand in his fingers.

“Why are you doing this?” she cried, out desperation in every syllable.

“Because you have crossed me too many times and woe betide those who cross me!” He laughed and his stunning eyes were pitiless. He turned and swept from the dungeon chamber leaving Antigone to the merciless nibbling of the mice.


Despair overcame her as she swayed over the boiling oil, the heat rising from it plastering the thin material of her gown to every voluptuous curve. She thought of all the men she had loved who had died at Reynard’s hands.

“Antonio, my love, soon we will be together.” She sobbed his name and thought of his proud manhood and the passionate lovemaking they had indulged in on the beaches of Sicily. “Christopher, my darling! I am coming!” She remembered vividly the feel of his strong hands on her trembling body as they had shared kisses in the shadows of Knockturn Alley. “Ulrich, beloved, I am sorry that I was not able to avenge you!” Her heart raced at the memory of his blonde hair, tied back in an elegant queue and the passion in his stunning blue eyes when he had taken her on the huge bed in his castle in Bavaria.

“Who is here, crying in the dark?” Came a voice that roused Antigone from her misery.

“Help, please help!” She wailed to whoemighmight be there.

A figure detached itself from the shadows and she looked at a dashing masculine figure dressed in black robes that swirled about him like silken shadows. His hair was black as the night, his skin as white as milk and his eyes were so deeply black that they seemed to suck all light into them.

Antigone trembled in her restraints. Never before had she felt such a stirring in her as this man stirred. His flashing eyes and bold gaze swept her and she yearned to be free from her bonds that she might touch that icy countenance and melt the coldness of his eyes.

“Who are you?” He called as he came closer still. She could see the rippling muscles of his powerful thighs. Desire rushed through her and she answered him.

“I am Auror Intrepidus Antigone Terrell.” His eyes widened and he stepped over to where the mice were vigorously nibbling at the cheese-soaked ropes.

“An Auror? Surely my brother has gone too far this time!” Antigone’s heart jumped wildly about in her chest as he spoke, his voice was a potent part of his attractiveness.

He tenderly pulled her away from the boiling vat so that she dangled over cold stone instead and then began to lower her gently to the floor. Overcome by her ordeal, Antigone collapsed into his manly embrace, her stunning assets pressed against his chest.

“Did you say ‘brother?’” She asked him breathlessly, feeling faint from the combination of near death and the stranger’s closeness.

“Yes, as much as it pains me to say. I am Reynard Dubois’ brother, Claude.” Now that she was but two inches from his face she could see the resemblance. They both had the same sensuous mouth and strong masculine chin. Pressed against him, she could feel the same overpowering strength as well. “But I abhor my brother’s evil ways and have vowed to bring him to justice and bring back honor to the Dubois name.”

Antigone was moved by the passion of his speech and looked up breathlessly into his rich dark eyes with a fluttering heart.

“And I have vowed to bring him to justice as well, for he murdered my true loves!” His eyes darkened at her words and he stepped back from her.

“My God, what a brave and dedicated woman!” He declaimed. “We should work together to bring my brother to justice!” Antigone felt her heart swell in her bosom as he spoke. Surely, here was a man worthy of her heart.

“Yes, we must go after him at once and stop whatever nefarious plan he has concocted.” She agreed and together they departed the chamber that would haunt her for a while.

As they climbed the hundreds of steps that led from the dungeon, she found her wand discarded in a shadowed corner and cried out in delight.

“My wand!” She picked it up and cast the complex charm that would allow her to follow whatever person had last handled it. Since she had seen Reynard fondling the wand earlier she knew that the spell would guide them to find her arch-nemesis.

Claude, wand out and ready, followed her as she followed the illuminated arrow that pointed towards their quarry.

The gothic castle that they were creeping through had a dusty unused quality to it that informed her agile Auror’s mind that it was probably abandoned and only recently used by Reynard.

They turned a corner and found themselves on a high parapet hundreds of feet above the craggy mountains of Bavaria. It was nd und unchanged since last she had been here with her beloved Ulrich two years ago, the pain of his tragic demise still a terrible weight upon her battered heart.

She turned a resolute face away form her agonizing past and towards a future that included Reynard’s capture and the payment in full for his crimes.

“There he is, Antigone.” Claude cried out and pointed to a figure hurrying along the parapet towards a pile of stacked brooms.

“Hurry, Claude and you may call me Tony.” She flashed him the smile that had dazzled kings and vagabonds alike and they ran after the villainous Reynard, hearts firm in their determination to see justice done at last.
Reynard looked back and saw them closing on him. With a snarl he leapt upon a broom and took off from the castle walls.

“After him!” Antigone shouted and flung herself at the nearest broom. Claude grabbed her alabaster shoulder and held her back.

“Tony, it’s too dangerous, the winds here are treacherous.” His voice trembled with concern for her safety and she was warmed by his care but nothing must stop her from her duty.

“The broom hasn’t been built that I cannot ride!” She called out to him as she threw herself into the wind, perfect teeth gritted in iron willed determination. She was so close to catching Reynard and stopping his reign of terror!

Claude had been right about the wind but she rode it with consummate skill, rising and falling with the tricky crosswinds, her slender hands wrapped around the shaft, slipping up and down as she readjusted her grip for better control.

A shout behind her brought her to the realization that Claude had followed her, his own broom strongly clamped between his powerful thighs. He was masterful with a broom, his skill evident in the powerful way he maneuvered to follow her.

His dark brows were pulled low as he concentrated and his clothing was blown back outlining his broad chest and muscular arms. He was a breathtaking sight as he fought the winds to reach her side.

She knew in that instant that she would never love any man the way she loved Claude Dubois. He gestured ahead and she turned to see that Reynard was speeding away from them. She urged her broom to go faster, her silken thighs wrapped around the hard shaft.

Suddenly, a huge wind ripped her from her broom and with a scream, she tumbled from her perch and began to fall helplessly towards the ground.

“Antigone!” Claude cried out and dived after her. She reached for him and her last sight was off his desperate eyes as blackness claimed her.