When Potter meets Jeremiah

Death calls

My hand slid up the door frame of Jeremiah's study. My tight black leather skirt hugging my body like a glove. Tucked in was a red lace lingerie top.

At the sight of me Jeremiah nearly fell out of his chair. His feet finding their way to me and my hand finding it's hold firmly on his throat. I had all control at this point. His body melting under my touch.

His hot breath against my lips as I drew them close. His eyes closed tightly his long lashes brushing his cheeks. His breathing was heavy.

"Don't go." He breathed out in a hushed tone. I could feel the testosterone coursing through his veins. He was like a puppet on my strings. The disposition I had on him.

"Death is calling my name." I nearly growl with the urging kick to laugh, but I held it down.

"But darling it's so late..." he trailed off glancing over to the wall clock.

"Yes but night time is my time love, and the bitch has had it coming for a while." I chuckled masking his laugh in return. I had watched Jeremiah's sanity spiral down quickly.

"What have you got in mind?" He nearly dances with lust.

"A killer never gives away their plans." I now held his face in the palm of my hand with my  thumb and index finger caressing the sides of his face. My lips brushed his the red stain of my lips transferring to his faintly. His breathing was harsh under my spell and I loved it.
•*•*•*•*•
Glock pulled at the chain attached to his spiked leather collar. His long white canines bared as he snarled. A simper tugged at the corner of my lips as we both shared the same amounts of eagerness.

The apartment complex I once called home didn't know what was hanging over them, and that only ignited my flames.

The wind blew through my black trench coat, night hung thick in the abnormally quiet Gotham streets. A winter storm was slowly brewing and the cold air clung to everything with the hint of a frigid gust.

Glock lugged at the chain again, low growl rumbled in his deep chest.

My presence was quickly known as I entered the building. The rattling of Glock's leash and the click of my shoes echoed through the scarcely decorated lobby.

Jeremiah could never understand my choice of shoes for this type of work. It was more of a fashion thing than other reasons. There was something about the terror it brought I liked so much.

I loved the thought of how the sound affected others. Every time they laid their heads down at night and closed their eyes. The way the click would haunt them.

The smell of floor cleaner and mop water filled my nose. Given the time I knew Hank had recently left to go home after he had mopped the slick white floors. I almost felt pity for the older man, the mess he would have to clean up in the morning.

Dim wall lights illuminated the plants I had thought were real for years. As I passed the nice white furniture the cherry desk grew closer.

Behind the wooden rectangle and past a big PC monitor stood Adler. Dressed in a nice button up the front collared white shirt, a creased brown jacket laid over it.

He looked up from the notebook he was always writing in. His hair a sweaty mess from the long hours of the days shift.

"Ma'am dogs over fifty pounds aren't permitted in this complex, you must also provide a key card after eight." His voice reached me making my skin prickle due to the husk in his tone.

He slightly shook at the view of Glock. One thing I picked up about Adler from his first week, he had a fear of dogs. I realized this the day he nearly shit himself at the sight of Mr. Prisca's enormous English Mastiff Opko. He wasn't allowed to say anything due to Mr. Prisca's ownership of the apartment complex.