*** July 1 2006 around 10am -- Oceanside Ramada Inn
The well-dressed man retrieved his credit card from the desk clerk. She smiled at him but there was no emotion in it, only good customer service. "That's one meeting room for the day. No lunch. Will there be anything else today, Mr. Freeman?"
Gordon Freeman smiled back politely, "No thank you, Miss. I'll let you know if we need anything else."
He picked up his briefcase and walked calmly into the conference room. The wooden conference table was well lit from the ocean side windows. Light flooded every corner. Four chairs sat empty around the table. Mr. Freeman set his briefcase on the table and seated himself calmly in the nearby seat.
Slowly his face relaxed and his breathing slowed to maintenance levels. He blinked regularly but a slow trickle of drool ran from one corner of his mouth.
*** July 1, 2006 -- 12 midnight Sharp. Narcosis
Alice stood in the shadows scoping for danger. Unless you considered a smouldering Ford pickup truck in the fenced-off cement lot across the street dangerous, it was clear. It was always clear. The only vehicle in evidence was the white Lincoln Town Car parked near the door.
"Sparky, you going to start that car or do we have to push it all the way across town?" Alice shouted at the huge bald and tattooed human standing next to it. Clearly a Vin Deisel fan.
Paul stepped out with a vampette on his arm. She had a balloon butt that made Alice think that her own butt felt flat. Paul exchanged little light kisses with the undead as they entered the car. Alice closed the door and slipped into the shotgun seat.
Paul and his latest toy were oblivious in each other's arms, but Alice was awake and alert. She saw headlights round the corner of the block as they pulled away. Without hesitation she shouted "Down!" at Paul, and "Gun it Curly!" at the driver. As they shot away Paul was trying to ask questions from the floor of the car.
"What? Who?"
Alice had her guns out and was peering behind them. "Not sure, but when was the last time you saw a brand new Viper drive down this street?"
Paul laughed even as baldy was letting off the gas, "You are paranoid, Bunny, but that's what I pay you for."
*** July 1 2006, 12 Noon, Oceanside Ramada Inn
A dissheveled person looking mostly homeless and smelling worse stumbled into the lobby of the Oceanside Ramada Inn. The woman behind the desk picked up the phone to dial 9-1-1 and the security guard rushed forward to turn the bum around.
The man turned at the guard and roared. The wild and mindless scream made the guard reach for his pepper spray. Mr. Freeman stepped out of the conference room. He strolled purposefully down the hallway until he was standing in the lobby.
"Mr. Johnson, I presume?" he said in even emotionless tones.
The pale wildman whirled to face the suit who had addressed him, "Gahhh!" it screamed then shuffled toward him.
Mr. Freeman calmly turned to the woman holding the phone limply, "Miss, please cancel the call to the Police, Mr. Johnson - my associate - will behave himself. I guarantee it."
The two wandered back down the hall to the conference room and closed the door. When the desk woman approached it later it was locked and there were no sounds coming from within.
*** July 1, 2006 - 12:02am Narcosis
The shiny black Viper powered down the street while a window glided down and a body was flung from the car. It rolled a few times and came to rest against a nearby palm tree.
The creature at the front door might have been considered human if he wasn't green and covered with blue spikes all over. He watched the body flop, roll and stop without much emotion. He waited a few minutes longer and started to walk away when an alarmed sound came from the body.
"MMmmMM!"
The Brachen demon stopped in mid-turn. That sound was familiar. "Fred? Is that you?"
He walked over to the body and rolled it back so he could see it better. It was Fred all right. But the Brachen demon ran back into Narcosis with wide eyes once he got a good look.
*** July 1, 2006, 3pm, Oceanside Ramada Inn
The Testarossa screamed into the parking lot and came to an abrupt halt. The pounding music that hung around the car like a smokey aura suddenly ceased as the engine cut off. A man dressed in light and bright clothing rolled from the car and strolled into the Ramada. He passed the counter without a second glance.
But the eyes at the counter watched him. Those deep brown eyes of the cute clerk followed his every move. In the back of her mind she thought "mrwoww..." and imagined him in a thong cleaning the pool there at the Ramada. Glistening brown skin and fit muscles rippling...
He opened the conference room door without knocking and her fantasies evaporated. *Not if he is hanging with those weirdos,* she rationalized.
Inside the conference room Mr. Johnson and Mr. Freeman sat silently at the table. Mr Johnson's eyes rolled back to focus on the new arrival. A tasteful slurp as Mr Johnson swallowed his trickle of drool preceeded his greeting.
"We have been waiting, Mr. Harper."
Harper shrugged as he whipped off his shades, dropped into a seat and swung his sockless feet onto the conference table. "Johnson's not getting any fresher, I can smell," said Harper, "But you aren't getting any older either Freeman."
"True, Harper, but we cannot proceed until we are all here," said Freeman glaring at the latest arrival through pale blue eyes.
Harper laughed, "How can you stand to wait in here with this meat puppet?" he pointed at Johnson.
"One adjusts to the duties one performs," said Freeman.
Harper sniffed and regretted it, "So who are we getting for Valerian? Has he replaced Butler?" he said changing the unpleasant subject.
*** July 1, 12:10am, Narcosis
There was a small crowd around Fred. He thrashed on the floor of the club because he could not stand with his legs bound together as they were. His arms had been stitched across his chest in a parody of a corpse at rest. His mouth was sewn closed with coarse thread. His eyes were wide open becasue their lids had been hacked off. He looked like shit.
Most people would have died if subjected to such torture but Fred wasn't human, he was a vampire. Fugue had come over and was examining (or was it admiring) the work. He touched the embroidery and marveled at the strength it must have taken to pull tight the stitches against Fred's struggles.
Judging from the distended stomach, Fred must have had his innards removed and then replaced with something. Well, except for the heart.
"MMMMMM! MM! M!" said Fred.
*And lungs,* thought Fugue.
Fugue liked surprises. They made an otherwise mudane existence exciting for brief periods of time before allowing things to return to normal. Sometimes they were very dangerous and frightening; but ultimately, temporary.
Fugue poked at Fred a few times then pulled out a huge folding knife. A few of the surrunding junkies and vampires started a slight buzz about what he was planning. Fred started to wiggle and make a lot of noise.
Fugue placed a hand on Fred's forehead and poked the knife into his football-laced gut. The point hit something hard, and Fred started to weep. *That was an interesting reaction,* thought Fugue.
Ten heads and two pseudopods leaned forward in anticipation. They had the best view of the blossoming fireball that started from Fred's gut and mushroomed outwards from there.
Narcosis burned with rolling black clouds of burned flesh smells until sunrise.
*** July 1, 2005 5pm -- Oceanside Ramada Inn
The oriental woman strode past the counter and went unchallenged; her bearing and manner were clearly beyond interruption from the path they were pursuing like a celestial orbit. She stopped before the conference room door and it opened as if by her command and she entered with brisk steps and took her place at the table.
Johnson spoke a slow ponderous word, "Vaaaaa lllllleeeeerrrr iiiiiii annnnnn."
The woman bowed to the company, "I am Ms Yu. My master Lord Valerian has sent me to meet with you."
Harper snorted, "Lord Valerian?"
Even Freeman raised a cold eyebrow, "It would seem that our collegue has acquired a new title."
Ms Yu bowed deeper, "My apologies, gentlemen, I am new at these sorts of dealings, Lor... er... Valerian's status to me should not be spoken here. I will endeavor to..."
Her wordy apology was cut short as she stood upright and her head flew backwards. Her table mates, too, stood and their heads tilted back with mouths agape.
"The Rook is established. The business begins," intoned a ghostly voice that emitted from Harper's slack face and open mouth. Harper's mouth did not move.
"At last. I thought for certain I would be bored to death again if I had to watch another second of that mundane exchange," came a crisp and sharp voice from the rigid Freeman.
"Business, gentlemen, we don't have long. Dathan, what have you done? Your little stunt this morning will draw undue attention to us," the strange male voice of Valerian scolded from within Ms Yu's body.
Johnson's wild man voice became impossibly deep and menacing, "Valerian, you kept us waiting for hours. You have no right to scold me! Fop! Dandy! You parade in front of the mortals like a target waiting for them to attack you! Why don't you..."
"Silence!" came the voice from Harper, "This is pointless. Dathan may have struck a blow but no-one can trace it back to him. It serves as a fine starting place. Surely the bickering to place blame will serve as ample distraction for our needs."
"Agreed," said the Freeman-voice, "I calculate that this will also serve to group the lesser ones into alliances that will make them easier to eliminate."
"Pah!," said the rumble of Johnson, "Plan, calulate, talk, talk, talk, talk. You waste centuries wih talk. The best plan is on the battlefield... KILL!" he roared.
Valerian's dulcet tones drifted from Yu's open mouth, "Soon, Dathan. Let us aim you then you may kill as you do so well. What of the Slayer?"
There was a momentary silence. A reverence. "She is active here as our oracles had foretold," came the Freeman voice.
"Krispin, I always knew your far-planning would pay off one day," said the Harper voice.
"Thank you, Nicholas," said Krispin's voice, "But you uncovered the prophecy that set this in motion."
Nicholas' voice was dripping with honey, "But our dear young Valerian found the clues we needed to decipher it, didn't you?"
Dathan cut in, "Shut up! More talk. Wasted time with meaningless ego. Find that slayer. Kill her! Turn her!"
Valerian cleared his throat, an strange sound coming disembodied as it was from Ms Yu, "Yes. Find her and Kill her. Find her. Kill her. Turn her. Use her. We are agreed, then."
Four heads as one dropped to the table. Slowly - one by one - as they had arrived the four attendants left. They dragged and limped and coughed quietly as they exited the hotel.
"Have a nice evening!" said the new girl at the counter with a professional smile.
Ms. Yu looked down her spectacles at the girl and made her shrink back slightly from the menace, "I sincerely doubt it," she said.
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Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Wednesday 9th August 2006 - 11pm
He had never liked the silence. Silence to him was lack of sound, and lack of anything, in his opinion, cannot be good. He liked things to be filled. Space with furniture, stomach with fast food, throat with beer and blood. Silence with words.
It wasn't the talking that he missed so much as being talked to. Having conversations occur around him. He remembered the decades when their house was never still. When even in sleep he could hear small feet stomp in protest, a low voice rumbling with anger or pleasure, and wicked, gleeful giggles.
Now there was silence. Broken only on occasion by the ludicrous babblings of the brunette fledgling he had not killed simply out of apathy. And now he was certain the old adage was true. The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference.
It is silence.
It is void.
In the times he was almost lucid, James feared the madness. Every taste of evil, every act of perversion flooded his mind and burned his soul. Faces of evil haunted him.
He stumbled to the only refuge his troubled brain could find. The one being he could always count on to escape.
The cell door exploded open sending pieces of wood and steel across the room. The lone starved vampire walked quickly out with a large swagger and headed along the corridor looking for an exit. As he neared the most central room he caught a blurred image of a vamp stooge moving in at him from his side and without a second thought he attacked. Even in his weakened state he proved far too skilled to be stopped. He straightened his two fingers and stuck them into the stooge's eyes, blinding him. He pulled hard on his head leaving the stooge's jugular open and he bit in hard and began to drink deeply.
The sound of clapping entered the room as a almost invisible Kripsin appeared from the shadows and spoke. “I wondered how long it would take before you reverted back into Ripper.”
Ripper let the vampire drop limply to the floor. “How long have I been away, Master?”
“Almost twenty years, my child. James is getting stronger. Last time he could only keep you locked away for fifteen years."
Ripper gave a large toothy grin. “He will never be strong. He will always be weak and pitiful that’s the reason he created me."
Krispin nodded acceptingly. “It is time to put you to use, my child." Kripsin walked over to Ripper and put an arm around his shoulder and spoke, “We have some catching up to do."
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Sunday, 6th August 2006
Birch Street, Los Angeles
11:34am
“You’re doing this on purpose to punish me aren’t you?” Kate whined as Galen thrust a cup containing a nasty smelling green liquid into her hands.
“No I’m not, now drink!” Galen pushed the cup up to Kate’s lips, trying his best to control a smirk of amusement from erupting on his face. “It’s an Eldridge patented hangover cure and believe me, I’ve had to use it plenty of times myself.”
Kate gave Galen a distrustful glare before wrinkling up her nose in disgust and swallowing the contents of the cup in one go. “UGH!” she retched, reaching out for a glass of water to drown out the taste. “And I thought you loved me!”
Galen grinned, squeezing Kate’s hand gently. “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”
Kate replaced the glass on the bedside table, a sober expression clouding her features. “Oh yes. The Brotherhood. It was something Bob said actually. For all his lack of style, manners and any kind of personal hygiene the man certainly knows what’s going on in L.A. and what’s going on is that The Brotherhood are here, in Los Angeles.”
Galen knew from the look on Kate’s face that whoever The Brotherhood were they must be cause for such worry. “But, just who are The Brotherhood?”
Kate rose from the bed and walked around the room a little. Never in all the years that she had spent within the coven had she ever expected to utter those words, nor indeed what she was about to say now. “You’ve heard of Valerian of course, Jade’s father and the vampire who nearly killed Tash in her youth. It’s estimated that Valerian is probably around one and a half thousand years old, and he’s the youngest of the group.”
Galen let a sharp out-take of breath escape his lips. “Group? Just how many vampires are in this group?”
“Originally there were six. The Coven of Sindell has extensive chronicles dating back to the seventeenth century that notes the formation of such a covenant. The vampires Valerian, Dathan, Lothos, Krispin, Nicholas and Harkon – The Master’s very own damnable offspring.”
Kate sat back down on the bed. At the mention of the names she appeared to grow pale, as though saying the names aloud might actually invoke their presence in the very room. Galen took her hand in his, noting how it had begun to tremble.
“We were never sure if the rumours about the death of Harkon were true, but Lothos was killed by a Slayer, to this date probably one of the most accomplished Slayers of all time. But she’s dead now.”
Galen exhaled slowly. “So that leaves four…”
“Valerian, Dathan, Nicholas and Krispin.”
Galen looked Kate in the eyes; she looked afraid and lost, and he couldn’t help but think that she was getting upset over nothing. “You seem so afraid but they’re only vampires, Kate. Look at what we’ve faced so far, fighting a pack of Beazor demons, a demented Warlock, an Ancient Demonic Goddess, a bunch of doppelgangers, a monster in the basement. A group of vampires is nothing. Tash and Sorrow probably face that every night-”
“Galen!” Kate had to stop him before he carried on; the prospect that they were fighting a mere four Elders was more than she could bear. “These aren’t your ordinary run of the mill Fresh Kills, most were sired by The Master himself! The archives at Sindell are filled with reports of their exploits of the blood and mayhem that they left wherever they went, of the numerous vampire hunters and mages who attempted to slay them and were never seen again!”
Galen held his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay I understand…”
“Do you?” Kate held Galen’s hands tightly. “Do you really understand? I only read the documentation on these four and I had nightmares for months. They’ve hardly been heard of in the last hundred years. It was hoped that they might have met their demise, but now…”
“Kate, you’re putting a lot of stock in the ramblings of an untrustworthy barman. Maybe we should try to find Natasha and Victor and your other friends and see if they’ve heard anything?”
Kate sighed in exasperation. “I can’t find Tash and Victor to ask for their help even if I wanted to! They appear to have vanished off the face of the Earth!”
Galen sighed, putting his arms around her in a calming gesture. “All right, we’ll find them then, or Sorrow or Daye. If anyone else has heard anything, we’ll go from there.”
Kate shook her head slowly. “We’d better work out something, Galen. I don’t even want to think about what the Brotherhood could be planning to do if they’re still alive.”
“That’s as may be,” said Galen gently, “but you’re in no state to start a war council at the moment. Do me a favour? Get a good night’s rest before you go battling the forces of evil for the bazillionth time? You might not have realised this, but - Emma and me? We like having you around.”
Kate smiled softly and gave Galen a long, lingering kiss on the lips. “Deal.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday 7th August 2006
Bibliophile, Los Angeles
1:45pm
Kate held Emma up on her lap; she gurgled happily as Kate bounced her gently on her knee. "Where do you suppose Auntie Daye is, Emma?" she said to the child while looking around the shop. She was hoping to be able to talk to someone about what she had learnt about The Brotherhood having arrived in Los Angeles. At the very least she hoped that Daye would be able to confirm the rumour, such as it was.
Joshua suddenly appeared with another cup of camomile tea in his hand. "I'm sorry Miss Kate but she's all tied up at the moment, won't be able to make it." Kate sighed but smiled in gratitude at Joshua. "She's a bonny little one that is, just like Miss Amanda's little un. You girls ha the purdiest babbies I ever saw."
"Thanks Joshua," sighed Kate restlessly.
"Now you just sit still Miss, drink ya tea, relax. That's an order from ol' Joshua."
****
Damen Kirk was pissed off. Not that this was an odd experience, considering pissed off was how he usually was. Right now that famous temper was directed at information peddlers in general, and psychics in specific. Illana Toren hadn’t known, not for certain. So she referred him to Evak Tor, who sent him to Laura the Nose… And so on.
*This had better be the last place,* he thought, knowing that it probably would be as he entered Bibliophile. The place smelled suspiciously like an honest business to him. Standing there looking around, he wondered if he could even find the right person here, or if she was at work today.
“Good afternoon. Can I help you?” a dark haired girl asked.
“Yes,” Damen said. This had really better be the last stop. “I need to find someone who works here, Catherine Wiccham. I have a business proposition to discuss with her.”
“I’m sorry, but she’s currently on leave, and I don’t think she wants me to send a solicitor her way.”
Damen beat down a bit of annoyance at the dark haired girl. “Think I’ll just look around then,” he said, wandering off. Probably lying, and about all he got in the way of description was ‘red head’ and ‘works at Bibliophile.’ He’d find her himself if he had to, or someone to bribe as he worked his way to the café section.
As Damen wandered off, the girl darted over to where Kate sat and knelt down by her side. "Don't look now Kate, but that seriously creepy guy over there was asking for you. Tell me why some people have to wear sunglasses indoors? It makes them look like either gangsters or total prats!"
Kate frowned at the girl, looking over to where she had just gestured. "What guy? What did he say?"
"He said he had a business proposition or something to talk to you about. I don't know who he is but he asked for you by name."
"Thanks for the tip off Roxie," said Kate as she dropped a five-dollar bill on the table and lay Emma back in her buggy. They were just about to leave when Joshua returned from the kitchen.
"Oh Miss Kate, you weren't leaving now were you?"
Roxie rolled her eyes, and Kate shot an anxious glance at the blonde haired man she had just pointed out. The last thing she needed was another whack job in her life. "Yes Joshua, I really am leaving now."
Damen looked around the room, about to give up when he noticed the girl from earlier talking to a red head. *Why am I not surprised she lied?* he thought. Or maybe he was just being hopeful, and it looked like she was getting ready to leave.
Though he did think that the young baby looked cute, as he timed his stride to run into her near the door. "Excuse me," he said. "I'm looking for somebody who works here. Perhaps you can help."
Kate stopped and looked at the man for a moment. All her powers of perception were telling her he was bad news and had a temper on him to boot. "I'm sorry I can't help you," she lied before trying to push the door open.
Normally, Damen would have taken the woman's word for it, but she just seemed a bit too eager to get away. "Are you sure? You haven't even heard the question." He received a rather stern look from her that suggested he move out of the way. "Look, I'm trying to find someone who works here who might be able to help save someone's life."
Kate rolled her eyes in annoyance. She didn't want to get caught up in another 'life or death' situation at the moment, but that niggling sense of morality, the part of her that couldn't turn someone away if they needed help - no matter how deranged they seemed - wouldn't let her just walk away. That and she could clearly tell he was carrying a gun underneath his jacket. *Unstable AND a gun? Could this day get any better?* she thought in irritation.
She sighed and pulled the buggy back inside the shop. "Fine," she intoned firmly, "but I don't want any of... whatever this is following me home, understand?"
Damen breathed an inward sigh of relief. "It shouldn't, I don't think. I've been trying to find some information on someone who might be dead or alive, and was given the name Catherine Wiccham as a psychic who can at least tell me if the person is a ghost or not."
Kate gestured for the man to follow her to the staff room at the back of the store. Once safely out of earshot of the customers she turned to him.
“Okay, we both know I’m the person you were sent here to look for. So you... what? Want me to contact the spirit world to see if there've been any new arrivals lately? It's not like airline information you know."
"I... I don't know," he said after a moment of thinking. He knew that she wasn't a normal contact, and the old demon - a former customer of hers when she worked in Bob's Bar - had said she wasn't involved in the underworld.
"I can you tell you who has the contract out on his life, and who took it out, but not who got the contract, which is what I need to work out!"
"So now you want to know who is going to take a hit on your friend who may be dead already?" Kate didn't like the sound of this. Hired killings, contracts - it reeked of organised crime. "Maybe we should take things one step at a time Mr...?"
"Most people just call me Trigger," he said. "You can call me Damen if you prefer that, though."
"Well Mr. Damen, maybe you have something of your friend's, something that belonged to him perhaps? It would help if you want me to track him down."
Damn shook his head slowly. He'd let the Mr thing pass... this time. "No, and tracking down my friend isn't the problem. I gave up on that road when I realised nobody had a clue about that circle of stones in the parking lot."
*Circle of Stones in the parking lot?* Kate frowned at Damen and then shook her head. This guy was anything but consistent.
She walked over to Emma who was sleeping soundly in her buggy and tucked her in more comfortably. "If you aren't going to be clear about what you want me to do then I'm afraid I can't help you. You say you want to know if your friend is dead, then you say you don't. Now you say you want to know the name of the person hired to kill him, him being the person who may or may not be dead already, but you don't have any information for me to base my search upon. I don't see how I am supposed to help you."
Damen sighed. Either she wasn't connected at all, or she was a very good actress. And he had to admit; he was beginning to get desperate.
"Okay, I'll tell you everything I know. We'll see where we can go from there. My friend is either Nikolai Makarov or Andropov Andreievech, depending on what name he used - currently it's Nik, I think. Don't ask how we met. I got word a while ago that a man named Lavrenti Sabarov decided to off him. Some fucking Russian revenge thing or something. Only he hired someone to do the job, and all I've gotten is he - or she - is supposed to be a ghost. And then Nikolai went and vanished back in July in the middle of a parking lot in that circle of stones that can't be moved."
Kate left Emma sleeping and returned her attention to Damen, gesturing for him to sit at the table. "I have to tell you, this is all very unusual. Psychics don't generally work like an Encyclopaedia Britannica, you know?"
Kate rose from her seat again and walked over to the small locked bureau in the corner and opened the door, taking out a crystal ball and setting it on the table. "Since you don't have any actual objects relating to your friend or this unknown hitman we'll have to do things the old fashioned way."
She closed her eyes and began steadying her breathing. After a minute she opened her eyes again. "Could you call for Joshua please?"
"What?" said Damen, confused. "Is he some kind of spirit guide?"
"No, he's the guy who works in the kitchen here. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't know you, I hardly trust you, and I'm not about to let some stranger be left alone in a room with my daughter while I'm in a mystic trance."
After Joshua had been called into the room Kate resumed her poise.
"She really good, look how she don concentrate like that," whispered Joshua. Kate frowned and uttered an irritated 'shh' before continuing.
After twenty minutes of complete silence she opened her eyes again and stared into the crystal ball. Her eyes had turned an inky black and had an otherworldly look about them as she attempted to divine the mystery of the crystal.
*Well, she's definitely the real thing,* Damen thought, more than a bit nervous at the fact that her eyes had just changed colour. Yes, that had to happen. "It's like the twlight zone." And then a thought occurred: Why did their eyes always go black of all colours? Why not a nice magenta or blue?
"My eyes are what colour?" Kate said, picking up on Damen's thoughts in her highly sensitive psychic state. She looked in the crystal ball at her reflection. "Oh, so they are, how strange, I never realised... I think I see your friend Mr. Damen, though I have no idea where he must be. The image is very weak and dark but he is definitely alive."
Kate gazed deeper into the ball; both Damen and Joshua also leaned in close but could barely make out a reflection in the swirling white clouds within the crystal's centre.
"I can see something else. A flash of light, no wait, it's reflected light, like off a knife or a sword maybe. The image is moving too fast - I can't make out who the person is." Kate sat back in her chair for a moment, then she leaned forward and gazed back into the crystal. "The image is very poor, it's someone... young I think, but with great sorrow in their heart." Kate peered closer, seeing another flash of a knife blade, and blood, lots of blood. Kate cried out and covered her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again they had returned to their usual colour again. Kate sighed. "I'm afraid that's the best I can do, I can't force the Powers That Be to reveal what they wish to remain elusive."
Damen was glad to have finally gotten something at least, but the vaugeness of the information was enough to finally set off the last of the temper he had bottled up. "That's it? I get sent through more hands than a New England whore to get here, and that's it? No offence, I'm glad to have something... but that's it? I do not fucking believe this!"
Joshua rose to his feet, pulling himself up to his full height. "Now jus you listen here, I won't have you using such language, not in front of Miss Kate and her little 'un."
Damen was glad that he was armed, and tried to keep under control. *No killing him, you might need her help later.* "Yeah? Well fuck you," he said to Joshua, reaching for his wallet to pull out around two hundred dollars. It seemed a reasonable fee for at least finding out Nikolai was still alive. Then another thought hit his mind. "One last thing. You know a snitch named Bob, runs a bar? His information any good usually?"
"Bob?" Kate couldn't help but grin. "Bob is a low down crook and a liar, Mr Kirk. If he's your source of information then you really are in trouble." Kate rose to her feet and walked over to her daughter before turning back to Damen. “I think our business here is concluded now, don’t you?”
With that, the famous Trigger temper snapped. He didn't notice the fact that she'd called him by his actual last name, instead putting down an extra hundred on the table. "Thank you very much. I'm going to kick the ever loving shit out of that weasel," he added with a smile before heading out the door. It was time to see if his new baseball bat was worth the price he'd paid.
Kate watched while Damen Kirk left the room then turned to Joshua. “Thanks for your help there, that was one man I sincerely hope I never have the misfortune of running into again.”
Kate picked up the three hundred-dollar bills that Damen Kirk had left on the table and handed them to Joshua. The burly man looked confused.
“But, that’s yours Miss…” he began, still looking confused and scratching his head.
“You earned it more than I did. Mr Kirk is a nasty piece of work and things could have got very ugly if you hadn’t been here.” Kate quickly gathered her things together and started towards the door. “Besides, his isn’t the kind of money I want to accept willingly.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday 10 August 2006
6:50pm
Bob’s Bar
Bob the Snitch had to be ready to open soon. Officially the bar opened at eight; unofficially it usually opened when the first demon decided that it was now a good time to drink, though they normally didn’t show up more than thirty minutes early. Getting glasses and tables set up tended to help, especially pulling a few new chairs from the stockroom. Some of the rowdier customers would eventually begin breaking the furniture.
Not that Bob dared to toss them out. And it wasn’t out of fear they’d find someplace else, either. It was out of fear that they would decide to break him instead.
Which was when the pounding on the door started. *Something big must be happening for them to show up this early,* he thought, heading for the door to unlock it. “Uh, we don’t open until eight,” he started the traditional protest. When he noticed the familiar blonde man from before in his shades, with a rather pissed off expression and…
THWAK!
Instinctive blocking saved Bob’s face from being smashed in. It also resulted in pain in both his forearms as the wooden baseball bat connected with them, with enough force to send him sprawling on the floor backwards. The light haired man shut the door to the bar, locking it. *Oh shit.* “Wha… what did I do to you?”
“You gave me the run around, that’s what,” Damen replied before pain filled Bob's senses. When Bob came to, he found the gun he’d bought and been reaching for was now in Damen’s hands and his hand hurt like hell. “Sorry, Bobby, but I don’t fancy gettin’ shot today.”
The look in Damen's eyes said pissed off in part, determined in another. But there was also something else there... something that didn’t quite add up. Damen struck him as a man who knew that you didn’t beat up the snitches if they info turned out to be bad in the end, not all the time at least. You expected to get the occasional bad tip. “I’m screwed aren’t I?”
“Big time,” Damen replied, hitting him again. And again, and again. Bob cried out in pain multiple times, especially when Damen broke one of his legs. Then just as quickly as he had started, the criminal stopped and took a swing at a portion of the stock.
“You know what the bad part is, Bob-o?”
“No,” he croaked out, sobbing from the pain. Damen lit a cigarette and took a drag from it, glancing around the place.
“It ain’t the run around that did you in, it was her.” Damen took a very powerful swing at Bob, which he found reason to thank god missed. The blow intended for his head struck the side of the bar instead with enough force to actually shatter the bat. “How do you like that? I’m going back to aluminium,” he remarked, never taking his eyes off Bob as he discarded the last of the bat.
“Her?” Bob asked in confusion. “Her… her who?”
“Oh, right, you wouldn’t know,” Damen said. The cigarette dropped to the floor as he crushed it. “You know, I go to psychics and telepaths, this whole run around thing, starting with Illana Toren. Know what? None of them knows anything. Nothing, nada, zip, until I meet another girl… and on a hunch, I ask her about you.
“Now she knew my last name without me telling her, which tells me she could probably read my mind, ok? This chick goes and helps me find out about my friend, see. Now she didn’t have to do that, could have just said ‘fuck off, I don’t want anything at all to do with you’ but didn’t, which tells me she’s a good person.”
Damen stopped for a minute to stare at Bob. He was wandering around behind the counter, looking at various appliances. At last, he found what he was looking for. A blender. Removing the glass part to only leave the bottom without the blades, he unplugged it from the wall.
Bob’s eyes grew large as Damen advanced again, wrapping the cord around his hand as he spoke. “She had to know what I would do if she said you were a cheat, and she did anyway. And well… she didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to wish me on you.”
WHAM!
Bob felt blood fill his mouth. “Not unless you did something to earn it.”
Ten minutes later Damen dropped a broken blender to leave a broken but still alive bartender cringing on the floor, a sobbing wreck. For Bob, it was easily the worst beating of his life. One which he would probably spend a month recovering from, though he never told anyone. Not even the police when his first human customer arrived and found him on the floor.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
A Toorak home - Melbourne
Wednesday the 26th July, 2006
21:25EST
Tearstains marred Quin’s face; tiny droplets of the salty liquid fell freely, sweeping over her cheeks to gather along her jaw. Quin sniffed, determined to suppress her sobs from reaching her parents in the lounge as she struggled with her desk, hauling it away from its position against the wall, scuffing tracks in the carpet as it scraped across the floor. The evident strain on her face relinquished as her muscles finally relaxed, free of the desk's burden, but she didn’t wait to catch a breath. As instantaneously as she’d finished hauling her desk, Quin lurched into clawing at a distinct section of the skirting board, pulling it away to reveal a hidden compartment she’d kept secret since she’d developed a fondness for collecting odds and ends of insignificant trinkets, from the early age of five.
Lying on her side, Quin’s face was a mask of concentration as she felt around with her hand, searching for a particular item that was significantly different to the rest, both in looks and purpose.
*Knock. Knock. Knock.*
“Honey, Quin! Are you all right? I didn’t hear you come in at all.” The soft sound of her mother’s concerned voice carried through the door. “Weren’t you at the cinemas with your brothers?”
Quin swallowed back the rising lump in her throat, composing herself to answer while she continued to pat fervently around for the item she desired: the one that would set her free. “I’m fine, mum. I just got tired and had some homework I need to do; I’m really behind.”
“Are you sure, sweetie? If you’re tired, you should probably get some rest instead.” There was a pause. Quin figured her mum was likely waiting for a reply, but she was concentrating too hard on her searching that she didn’t feel bothered to answer. “I brought some apple crumble at Coles today that I’m about to zap in the microwave. I can make you a hot chocolate, if you like, and you could have some of that! It’ll help you rest easier.”
“I’m fine mum.” Quin’s hand hovered for a second, then settled into the dust. Sighing, her cheek pressed into the carpet, Quin scraped it across the floor as fresh tears welled in her eyes. “Thanks mum. Love you.”
She could hear her mum’s hand slide helplessly off the door, followed by a sad sigh of regret. “I love you too, honey. The offer’s still there if you decide to come down later.” Quin lay still for a moment, silent tears soaking into the carpet. “Sweet dreams.”
“Nigh, nighs, mum…” Lower lip trembling, she clenched her eyes shut tight, *I’ll miss you.*
A moment later, Quin rose from the floor with the plastic bag containing what she’d been rummaging for in hand. Replacing the sectioned piece of skirting board back in place, she pushed her desk into its former position then hit enter on her keyboard: sending one final message before trekking across her room. Whisking up the prepared schoolbag off her bed, she then peered out of her window into the night.
Two stories up from the ground, Quin bid her final silent farewells, then disappeared to chase her goal in the night.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Day Five – G’rnatha
Early Morning
Previously on LA By Night - The G'rnathan Saga
- Victor leaves the group to complete his quest alone.
- The remaining five party members follow him underground.
Heat from below bathed the five occupants of the Monitor as it descended further and further into the maw of the pit. According to Victor’s rough map this was the entrance he must have taken, but so far nobody had seen any side passages. “Show me that again,” Tash called over her shoulder.Nikolai thrust the makeshift map before her face and she frowned as she looked it over. Shrugging, she said, “Well, it certainly looks like it should be about half way down, but this is a pretty scratchy map. Anyone spot anything at all?” She glanced hopefully at the others.
"Rocks, more rocks, and even more rocks. The same thing we've seen the past few days, pretty much," Nikolai mumbled, causing him to wonder if they were even following the map properly.
Reah’s eyes scanned over the rock faces enclosing them, but no enhanced sense she had could pick up even the slightest clue as to where an off leading passage might be. “Can’t see bugger all, here! Unless that’s… Nope, just another rock.”
Darian and Alice also craned their necks, staring at the stony outcroppings looming up on either side of them like a giant chimney. The heat from the lava below was growing more intense as the Monitor sank ever lower, but no cry of ‘There it is’ rang out to halt its progress. Eventually the heat grew so severe that Tash commanded the Monitor to hover.
“Anything at all? Otherwise we’ll have to go back up.”
All she received in response were three head-shakes and a dirty look from Alice. Despite the sullen glow from the heaving magma below them Tash couldn’t see a damn sign of the corridor either, so reluctantly she told the Monitor to rise again.
“Keep a lookout on the way back up. He had to have gone somewhere. I’m sure he came down this pit.” In reality all she had was a fervent wish that they were in the right area. But the map had at least been pretty clear on the entrance, if more vague about the rest of the journey.
Reah sighed and shuffled over to where Tash was situated without taking her eyes off the cavernous walls for an instant. “Try not to worry, we will find him. With or without a map. Just keep concentrating on the Monitor or something and….” she faltered as a thought struck her, “The Monitor wouldn’t know at all would it? Wait… no, best not to give it any sort of freedom.”
Reah trailed a finger over its shiny carapace. Too much travelling and too little action generally weren’t a good mix for Reah. Not just because she loathed boredom, but your awareness could lessen, leaving you vulnerable to surprise. "I'll just keep looking."
“I’ve already asked it, but it’s just a drone. It doesn’t keep maps in its head; it just does what it’s told. And no,” Tash smiled, “I wouldn’t want to give it its freedom either. God knows where it might… urk!” Tash grabbed onto the Monitor’s shell as it suddenly shifted direction. “What the hell?” she exclaimed, “Hang on!”
The Monitor was picking up speed, driving toward the impenetrable rock wall of the pit. Tash desperately tried to issue commands, but the Monitor was ignoring her completely. “Shit!” she cried as she threw up her hands in a futile gesture to ward off the quickly onrushing death. She wasn’t sure if she preferred to be crushed against the wall or whether the almost certain subsequent drop into the lava might be better.
Darian gripped tightly to the gyrating Monitor, swiftly snatching out a hand to grab Nikolai as he began to slip off the slick back of the beast they rode. Muscles strained as Darian tried to maintain his own balance while preventing Nikolai from falling to a fiery death, and managed to right them both as the Monitor levelled out. Darian didn't have long to savour the relief, however, as he noticed the wall looming ever closer before them.
It was Alice who spoke first. "Uh, Tash, hun? Brakes?"
Nikolai breathed heavily, nodding silent thanks to Darian as the Monitor continued to move. It would have probably made a hell of a ride at an amusement park, though one trip on a Monitor with risk of being thrown into lava was enough for one lifetime.
Rather than stopping, the Monitor swung under an outcropping, heaving into a secondary tunnel on the side of the pit and continuing down the new passage at full speed. Sighs of relief echoed from the walls as it dawned on the riders that they weren’t about to die – well, not just yet anyway. Then the flight continued at the Monitor's top speed, travelling down the various tunnels almost too fast for anyone to hold on. The phrase "like a bat out of hell" did not begin to cover the velocity at which they traversed the assorted caverns. They passed a number of pathways with various-sized openings leading off into the caverns below, and they might easily branch off into other paths.
Finally the Monitor stopped, hovering a few feet above the ground. They were in a vast cavern filled with innumerable strange creatures. Small bat-like life forms flitted around luminescent globes that hovered near the roof, and the floor of the cave teemed with all manner of beasts that sat, crawled, hopped or ran around the place. The soft light that filled the area let them see that several tunnels led away from the grotto.
"Right, now where are we on the blasted map?" Nikolai asked with a surprising amount of calm, once he had recovered from the trip.
Reah stared straight ahead while her vision cleared, claws dug into the Monitor for dear life. “Well that was… rolf worthy.” She swallowed and steadily tried to pry her own grip free.
Alice motioned her hand above her head and her voice quavered, “You must be this tall to die on this ride.”
Darian glanced behind and shuddered at what he saw. He turned back to face the front and cleared his throat, “Well, I hope we’re not planning on going back the same way. The tunnel has a door – kind of.” The others all turned sharply and each face bore a similar expression as they realised that the ‘door’ looked like nothing so much as a giant anus, which had puckered to a close behind them.
All except Tash. She didn’t move or turn her head. The vista before her contained a variety of creatures, none of which seemed interested in the passengers the Monitor had brought in. But she paid no attention to them, either. All her energy was focused on the figure standing forlorn in the centre of four tall columns.
“Victor,” she breathed. He was mere metres away, standing amongst what looked to be verdant foliage, framed by the four dark monoliths and attended by a troupe of monkeys that worshipped at his feet. She scrambled off the Monitor as though to run towards him, but a hand reached down from the hovering Monitor and stopped her.
“Be careful, hun,” Alice whispered, “Think – why did he stop here? He’d have kept going if he could.”
"I have a much better question," Nikolai said, adding to himself that it was also the more frightening one that he could ask, "Tasha would not have brought us on that fast a ride. So who is the horse thief that tried to steal our ride?"
Tash stared at Victor’s still form, seeing no sign of recognition in his eyes. Battle Fiends all looked alike, but she knew it was her love by his aura. Its vibrant colours struggled beneath a layer of darkness that bound him, though, and Tash’s heart sank as she realised what that meant.
“A Creator. It has Victor,” she answered Nikolai, pointing. “I’ll bet it called the Monitor, probably because it needs supplementary control over the rest of its beasties while it tries to control him.”
"I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this," Nikolai muttered as he slithered off the Monitor and onto his feet.
"Very astute, animal," came a voice from Victor's body. But it was clearly not Victor. It had an oily British accent with a hint of unpleasant criminal elements to it. "But I needed this Monitor to summon and control the Battle Fiends that are now on their way. In the meantime, these older MTH models should keep you occupied."
The four black pillars suddenly popped open to reveal angular planes and glossy black armor that allowed them to transform into their former compact forms. The 40-foot tall giant biological constructs lunged at the tiny intruders.
"Well, if it's a fight they want," Reah slid off the Monitor into a readied stance, arms braced as her blades sprang out, "They dragged us along, so that's what they'll get!"
Tash gazed up at the gargantuan creatures advancing on them and gulped. Somehow they had to survive this fight and she had to free Victor. Somehow. “Guys, the Monitor is key,” she said, drawing her pistol, “Disable it and it’ll slow down the attack.”
She knew that nothing she carried could penetrate the Monitor’s defences, so instead she faced the oncoming threat. Dodging a massive arm that swung toward her, Tash aimed upwards at the knee joint of the monolith attacking her and watched as the bullet pinged harmlessly away. “Goddam,” she muttered.
Darian heard her and looked down at the back of the Monitor where he still sat. "Anyone got a long, sharp knife?" he called.
Nikolai reacted by instinct. If the creatures were anything like humans the head was the primary nerve center. He drew his pistol with one smooth motion, keeping track of the number of rounds left. Eight at last reckoning. He had better make each shot count. Kneeling down, he carefully aimed at the head of the nearest one before firing a single time. The 40-foot creature only looked annoyed at the effort. He fired again and its head moved back in pain as a round penetrated an eye.
"Fuck!" he yelled, moving at the last moment before another of the creatures could charge at him.
Reah’s head spun about at Darian’s request and she reached for a particularly long dagger of a strangely similar, matching design to her sword, strapped about her thigh. “Darian! Catch!” Reah then lunged into a sprint to meet the closest beast rather than waiting for it to reach them.
“Flick the grip to turn it on! Use your wrist.” She glanced askance at Darian’s futile attempts with her dagger while she clawed her way up the 40-foot beast, confusion marring the fae’s face as she dodged the creature’s attempts to bat her off like an insignificant bug.
*Bloody hell!* Thrusting herself off the beast, Reah performed a somersault roll as she hit the ground, lopping off one of the other beast’s legs above the foot with her now humming sword that had suddenly appeared in her hands as she tried to reach Darian.
“Like this… Ok?” The dagger hummed to life.
Darian smiled apologetically, “Never seen anything like this before.” He admired the humming blade, “Elegant.” He then ignored Reah and concentrated on digging the knife into the Monitor’s carapace. The Monitor responded by swooping wildly, trying to dislodge its unwelcome irritant.
Alice dive rolled from the back of the gyrating Monitor, landing gracefully several feet away. She drew her twin Socom pistols and concentrated. The old general in her awoke and she surveyed the room with a view to tactics. First things first, though. Deal with the immediate threat. With deadly accuracy she fired both pistols, blinding the looming monolith before her. It continued to fight with gaping wounds where its eyes had been mere moments before, but with obviously impaired efficiency. Alice let her teeth show in a feral grin. This was living!
”Natasha Brookes unit,” Z’thrukaht’s voice suddenly boomed in Tash’s head, ”You must let me in if I am to free the VTK unit.”
“What the..?” Tash barely had time to register the implications of exactly what the Creator was demanding of her before the pressure from Z’thrukaht grew to overwhelming proportions. She gasped and staggered as Z’thrukaht’s being flooded her soul. Her experience with Victor doing this early last year was barely sufficient to prepare her for the intensity of the Creator’s invasion. Her own essence was shoved and crammed out of the way as he forced his way into her, and she fought back, trying to retain some space for herself.
”Do not fight. Accept me, and this will go much easier.”
It came not so much as a command, but as though it were her own thought. She let her guard down ever so slightly and found that her essence began to intertwine with Z’thrukaht’s in something more like a partnership than a hostile takeover, albeit an uneven partnership. A small giggle escaped her lips at the thought that she was becoming caramel swirl ice cream, even as her gun dropped from her nerveless fingers and the cavern faded from her sight.
The others saw Tash go rigid and her body jerked spasmodically while standing upright. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her mouth stood open in a wordless scream. Victor had stepped off the pedestal and was advancing on her. His purposeful strides paused and he stood posed like an action hero in mid-grab of his kung-fu grip.
The monkey creatures screamed and scattered into the lush jungle growths as if terrified by the motionless pair.
Although the creature facing Alice was now blinded, its other senses seem still be enough to continue the attack. Alice continued unloading her guns into soft portions of the monster’s black armor. Bullets penetrated every soft spot Alice could see; eyes, mouth, and joints. Each shot was as well placed as the first. *Oops. I hope no one saw that one.*
The massive Battle Fiend’s attack didn’t seem slow at all but its accuracy suffered from its lack of sight. Alice easily dodged its attacks by rolling under its legs. She holstered one gun, dropped the empty clip from the other and slapped a new one in. As the monster turned to find its prey, Alice could see greenish yellow slime beginning to do its best to heal its wounds. “Why don’t they ever just die?” From her crouched down perspective Alice stopped to look at how her companions were doing.
The large creature Nikolai had just shot in the eye staggered for a moment from the pain. Nikolai breathed a small sigh of relief as it stumbled - the head was a weakness, though a science fiction question immediately occurred to him. What if the brain was not in the head? It was not a nice question to contemplate, particularly as he began to flee.
A glance to the side revealed Darian attacking the Monitor.
Six rounds. That was all Nikolai had left, and provided that he only missed twice and a shot to the eye killed them, he could… “You have got to be shitting me.” This last he muttered at the sight of the hordes of Victoresque lobsters running into the room from all directions. “That’s a few more than the ammo I have.”
With vibro-dagger in hand, Darian stabbed downwards with all his might. If he were lucky, he would manage to damage the hulking monitor before it could create any more problems for the lost group. Unfortunately however, the thick hide protecting the beast was almost impenetrable, and even with his tremendous strength, the fae was causing minimal wounds if any.
*I’ve got to hurry before any other…* his thought was cut short as his eyes ventured over to the new threat which had arrived on the scene. Countless Battle Fiends, no doubt controlled by the Monitor, charged into the cavern from myriad entrances ready to destroy all the rebels.
*Shit, better speed this up.* His hacking seemed to shift into overdrive as repeatedly stabbed into the behemoth’s back. Even though his efforts were proving more effective than before, he doubted he would manage to cripple its controlling power in time to stop the arriving terror. “Why do you have to have such a thick hide?” he screamed as he continued his relentless attack.
Nikolai stared a moment longer at the dozens of ten-foot Battle Fiends charging towards Tash where she remained frozen, helplessly immobile. And the worst part was, he had nothing of the sort that could allow him to take them out, though he and Reah placed themselves before the defenceless woman. Reah seemed to thoroughly enjoy herself, slashing at the various Battle Fiends with her sword and working to decapitate them. Nikolai took careful aim, firing one round at a time.
It was, he felt, for the moment the best he could do. A Battle Fiend broke through and ran at Tash’s unmoving form, which he shot with deliberate aim. The next round struck one of the fiends that would have taken Alice’s head off. Nikolai was looking for his next opportunity when it happened.
A Battle Fiend came crashing into him, knocking him to the ground. Darian had jumped down from the Monitor long enough to use the dagger to slash its throat, looking down on the man who had such a low opinion of him. *Ok, maybe he has-* and Nikolai returned the favour, taking a shot at the Battle Fiend behind Darian before the latter returned to hacking at the Monitor.
He did not know how or when it occurred, but sometime in the chaos Reah had reluctantly passed him her sword, about the time when he swore loudly that he was completely out of ammo and how this had never happened to him before. Very, very reluctantly was a better description; Reah was almost pained to have to see the necessity in parting with the sword even temporarily.
Reah loosed a wordless scream of rage, of triumph, of ecstasy. After what had seemed like a bloody lifetime she was finally able to let rip, cutting sick on a ton of ass just waiting to be diced.
The thrill was so great, she felt weightless amidst the carnage. Enlightened to a new level, pain didn’t register in her as a threat of being brought down: but rather, she revelled in delight, her heart racing like a drum roll, ever climbing to its eagerly anticipated climax. She was alive!
Flashes of her blades whirled, cutting through air and battle fiends at impossible speeds. Swift reflexes deflected, dodged and weaved in and out of the beasts. As one fell unceremoniously to the ground Reah was already leaping over its tumbling body, diving claws first into her next target.
As Alice’s attention was on her companions and the arriving smaller Battle Fiends, the 40-foot horror’s clawed hands pinned Alice to the rock wall. Alice could feel its strength squeezing the life from her. After delivering its moment of sheer pain the fiend turned its blind eyes toward the Monitor and Tash. Dropping Alice’s unresponsive body it headed for its new target. As the monolith lumbered towards the Monitor it was suddenly dropped to one knee by a shot in the back of its knee. It turned its newly forming eye back at Alice.
Alice coughed as she clawed her way back to her feet using the wall. With an evil grin on her blooded lips she shouted at the fiend, “I’m not done with you yet!” Alice drew her knife in her free hand and opened fire with her pistol as she charged the kneeling beast. Alice’s shots seemed only to distract the giant beast as she jumped on its leg then to its shoulder, where she could get a clear shot to its head. Alice forced her long knife deep into the new eye of the beast. The monster roared in pain as it grabbed at Alice, ripping into her arm and side.
But Alice wasn’t going to let it pull her from her revenge. She twisted the knife in its skull locking her hand in its eye socket. As the beast writhed in pain and pulled at the demon girl, Alice looked at the tattoo on her arm. “Damn, this is going to hurt.” Alice spoke the finishing spell to her “cooking“ tattoo. The tattoo began to glow bright pink and Alice screamed in agony as her hand and knife burst into flame.
After a moment the familiar pain caused by her spells ended and Alice realised that she was screaming and the beast was howling as the white-hot knife burned its way out of its skull. Alice fell away from the thrashing beast and rolled to the wall.
Alice stopped to inspect her hand. She was holding a white-hot knife and wasn’t feeling any heat from it. *Looks like the tattoo protects me from the heat and the rune on my knife seems to be keeping it undamaged.* Alice noticed a black mark around her wrist. “Fuck, now I need a new watch.”
Alice looked up to notice that of the hundred or so Battle Fiends in the cavern, some twenty or thirty of them were running at the Monitor while the rest were swarming towards the spot where Tash and Victor stood like figures in a waxworks museum. Alice quickly pulled the bottle of vodka from her pack and broke it on the ground between them and Monitor. She then tore a piece of her t-shirt off, ignited it with her knife and dropped it in the liquid. Several of the charging demons caught fire and bellowed their pain as the healing slime was boiled from their bodies. Many more, however, skirted the blossoming fireball and continued relentlessly.
Despite her best efforts, Alice could no longer hold back the wave of Battle Fiends, and now some were upon Darian. *Looks like the Monitor will have to wait,* he thought, just as he managed duck below a deadly swipe of a razor sharp claw. *Way too close for comfort.* The fae continued to twist, turn and flip using his inhuman agility to keep himself out of reach of the lethal monsters. His acrobatics were cut short however, when a slight miscalculation allowed one of the critters to land a hit. The back of Darian’s shirt began to soak through with the blood pouring out of the five thick lines now imbedded in his skin. The pain of the strike was momentarily blinding, causing him to stumble forward into a group of eagerly waiting fiends. The beasts circled in on their wounded prey preparing to tear him apart.
Just when Darian thought he was finished, his eyes turned almost jet black, and his arms shot up by themselves. “Rrrraasssshhakkkkk!” A strange sensation emanating from deep inside surged through his body, making its way up through his arms until it finally exploded out through his hands. The Battle Fiends around him flew back from the power of the spell, giving Darian time enough to get away.
*Where the hell did that come from?* he thought as he surveyed the scene around him. Everyone was struggling to survive against the horde of insects. All save: “TASH!”
Nikolai and Reah stood back to back, Nikolai using Reah’s sword to slash at limbs and necks with amazing results, and Reah digging her vicious claws into whatever bits of Battle Fiend she could reach. They kept a circle clear around Tash, fending off the demons that seemed hell-bent on reaching her. Victor stood equally mobile, but none of the Battle Fiends so much as brushed by him. Light glinted off swirling blades as both Nikolai and Reah fought frantically to keep their friend safe, but eventually the press of numbers grew too great.
The throng of Battle Fiends swarmed around them. Nikolai’s adrenaline was currently pumping too fast to let him be appropriately embarrassed at the fact that he’d gotten himself backed into a corner and had to be saved. Being completely out of ammo did not help, and he found the sword Reah had grudgingly tossed him only slightly intuitive.
She glared at his inept handling of her precious weapon. “Pull yourself together,” she growled.
At some point they’d lost sight of Tash and the others, in the press of the large Battle Fiends. Reah was in the middle of going for the neck of one. Nikolai slashed at a Battle Fiend, oozing slime as he tried to reach her.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Reah snapped at him when he grabbed her arm.
The Battle Fiends had fallen back a few feet, preparing for another charge. “We can’t fight this many at once!” Nikolai yelled, looking for some sort of exit.
While still in her coma like state Tash was apparently oblivious to what was going on around, and now that Nikolai and Reah had been pushed back there was a clear path leading straight to her. Ignoring the throbbing in his back, Darian summoned all his remaining energy and vaulted towards the catatonic Tash.
“Stay away from her,” he roared as he stood in a defensive position between his friend and the first Battle Fiend to arrive. The monster ignored his warning and charged forward. Darian was quick to react as he dropped into the splits and used the vibro dagger to cut deeply into the Battle Fiend’s leg. The monster howled in pain as it fell backwards, allowing another to take its place. Darian tried to make short work of the second also, but things did not go quite as planned. As he swung the dagger in an upwards arc the beast quickly batted it out of the fae’s hand and countered by bringing his arm down painfully on Darian’s shoulder. The force of the blow knocked him to his knees, but he was up in an instant.
“You’re not getting her!” he yelled as he charged forward and punched with amazing force. The blow hardly budged the giant insect who, in turn, back handed Darian across the face, its claws leaving large, bloody scratches. Over and over the Battle Fiend ripped into the fae’s body, its razor talons slicing through his soft flesh.
Alice’s fire had all but burned itself out and she was preparing another assault when she realised that the Battle Fiends were no longer pushing towards her in such numbers. A quick glance over her shoulder showed her that Darian had abandoned the Monitor and had raced to Tash’s position where he now fought furiously. His blood-soaked shirt and the flashing talons of Battle Fiends around him told the story, and Alice let loose an ululating cry as she dashed over to help her comrade.
She took up a stance to defend Darian’s flank, but just as she got there one monster broke through and slashed viciously at Tash as she stood helpless. Despite the trail of blood that gushed from her leg, Tash showed no sign of having felt the blow. Alice cursed under her breath and dove between Tash and the creature as it reared back for a second strike. With her pistol virtually in the fiend’s face she pulled the trigger and was rewarded with a shower of chitin fragments, slime, and other unidentified goop.
“Ewww.”
Alice shook the gunk from her face and advanced with her still white-hot knife, keeping the fiends away from Tash as best she could, thankful that before they’d vanished Nikolai and Reah at least seemed to have incapacitated several dozen of the beasts. Severed heads and limbs littered the cavern floor, though the bodies still moved. They weren’t dead, but they were well out of this fight, at least. She glanced for a second to Darian, who was struggling with a Battle Fiend that had ripped the young fae to bloody shreds. Unable to help much except to deal as much damage to her own set of opponents, Alice proceeded to do just that. Her knife seared through joints, but not quickly enough. Never quickly enough. More Battle Fiends seemed to fill whatever space she created.
“I said YOU’RE NOT GETTING HER!” With his last twinge of strength, Darian jumped forward and used all his weight to tackle the monster before him. The two beings flew backwards, crashing into several other fiends along the way. Darian’s body did not move after he landed roughly on the unforgiving cavern floor. He had done all he could, but now he had not the life in him to do any more. Blood began to pool around his broken body as Darian’s eyes fluttered shut.
“I’m sorry Tash…”
******
Tash found herself standing, proud and ready, sniffing the hot air in anticipation. The warm yellow sun was beating down on her, warming her, and the smell of dust mingled with the scent of old leather and the sweat of the crowd that watched them from the stadium. Pennants fluttered in the breeze and a trumpet fanfare rang out, signifying that the contest was about to begin. The weight on her back was heavy, but not uncomfortable, and she knew what was expected of her.
Tossing her glossy black mane she stamped her hoof and snorted, and her rider patted her chocolate-brown withers. Her rider’s armour clanked slightly as he lowered the tip of his weapon and she could see the white-hot glow from the corner of her eye.
Before her, down the length of the lists, was the figure of a man covered from head to toe in dull black armour sitting astride a beast that was horse-like in shape only. It was greenish, covered with sharp spikes and was enormous - far bigger than any horse Tash had ever seen. Instead of hair it seemed to be covered with armour plates of its own. It looked to her more like a spiky bug that was shaped like a horse.
The vice-like grip that had held Victor’s mind relaxed slightly. Not since Vrithetek - the evil Vrithetek - had he felt this way. It was a constant battle for supremacy and the wearying mental strain. *Do as I tell you, deviant, and it will go a lot smoother.*
*Relax your guard for a second, Creator and I’ll be rid of you.*
*Address me as Tr’vlan, you deviant. I have a name, unlike you.*
*Victor. My name is Victor.*
Tash continued to stare at her opponents. The black-armoured knight struggled to control his mount as it fidgeted and pig-rooted beneath him. The hard leather reins bit cruelly into the beast’s mouth as the knight attempted to force the upper hand over it, and the horse’s red eyes glared balefully out, staring wildly around at its surroundings.
Then the second trumpet blast echoed around the stadium and the roar of the crowd drowned out all other sounds but the pounding of two sets of hooves as the two horses galloped towards each other. The black knight now seemed to have more control over his steed and levelled his lance across the wooden rail that separated the combatants. Tash blinked at the brightness of the light from that weapon, as bright as the one her own rider held, but she held true to her course.
The blood thundered in her veins as she galloped closer and closer to her enemy, her black tail streaming out behind her, and she felt the surge of her own blood at the sudden jarring impact as the two knights clashed. Lance tips glanced off breastplates as both riders scored only partial hits. The crowd’s roar crescendoed, then died back to a dull murmur as the two horses reached the opposite ends of the lists.
Tr’vlan held Victor’s mental tongue so his sounds came out as snorts and whinnies. Tr’vlan answered his challenging tones by digging sharp mental spurs into Victor’s flanks and pulling hard on the reins.
Tash turned, eager for the second round, and saw at the far end that once more the black knight was having difficulty controlling the strange beast. It fidgeted some more and reared up on its hind legs, issuing a sound that was partly a neigh and partly a growl. But then the two were charging towards each other again, and once more Tash thrilled at the sense of power. When the pair met, the crowd screamed ever louder and they stamped their feet as Tash’s rider flew up and backwards, out of the saddle. She could feel him going, could feel that he would be unhorsed and then she would belong to the black knight, just as the green horse already did.
The white blaze on her forehead glowed briefly as she joined her will even more closely with that of her rider and pulled Z’thrukaht back down into her saddle with an awkward ‘thump’. She stumbled slightly at the expenditure of energy and at the sudden shifting of weight, but kept her feet even as her rider kept his seat.
Victor desperately tried to jerk his rider but the bit pulled his head straight and his rider clamped even harder to his flanks to ensure obedience. Victor’s eyes flared with anger at his degradation and shame at being unable to fight with his hands (hooves?) or strength. Tr’vlan laughed at him, making him seethe with rage as the Creator wheeled him into a showy turn at the end of the lists.
Tash and Z’thrukaht turned to face their opponents for the third time. The black knight was having an easier time of it now, his mount now merely tossing his head in disapproval. The horse’s baleful red eyes fixed on Tash’s chocolate brown ones, and it seemed to her that he was trying to say something. She wanted to speak to him, but when she tried all that issued from her mouth was a frantic neigh. She snorted again and pawed the ground in frustration, but then the trumpet sounded once more and she sprang forward into a gallop.
She could feel each hoof as it pounded on the dusty ground, could feel the shifting of weight above her as her rider positioned his lance. She could see the onrushing figures of the giant horse and its rider before her. She felt the shock, the solid ‘whump’ of lance impacting with armour. She felt her body jar with the force of that blow, and felt Z’thrukaht staying firmly in his seat this time – it was not he who had suffered that impact, but the black knight.
Victor felt the impact of the lance deep into his hindquarters even though the blow had squarely landed against his accursed rider. For a moment there was a pause in the iron fisted control, a brief silence of the unrelenting mental pressure. Victor’s combat reflexes were trained to exploit such weaknesses and his body spasmed against the control in the nanosecond that was presented.
Tash sensed as much as saw Victor wrenching free of Tr’vlan’s control just long enough to twist under the off-balance rider. The black knight may have kept his seat, except for his horse’s sudden buck that threw him backwards to land heavily, raising a cloud of dust. Tash turned, even as the knight astride her tugged on the reins, the two moving almost as one. Z’thrukaht vaulted from her back, dropping the lance which now no longer glowed. Instead he drew forth a sword that was almost too bright to look upon.
He advanced upon his rival, but dared not approach just yet – the green beast reared high, screaming his defiance, and brought his hooves down repeatedly on the armour of the black knight. The flailing hooves struck again and again. Z’thrukaht stood by with his sword, trying helplessly to calm the frenzied animal, but it was only when the dark figure lay still that the fearsome beast stilled his attacks.
Z’thrukaht gazed down upon the fallen figure and whispered, “I am sorry, friend,” before lifting his sword and bringing it down, severing the knight’s head from his body.
*****
Tash blinked in the sudden dimness of the cavern, wondering why she felt so unbalanced until she realised she only had two feet to stand upon. Something hurt abominably, and she glanced down to notice rivulets of blood running from a gash in one leg. Gazing around at the piles of Battle Fiend bodies around her and at the one-sided battle between Alice and what looked to be about twenty more Battle Fiends, she realised it could have been a lot worse.
*Where are the others? Oh God.* She spotted Darian’s body lying some few feet away and breathed a sigh of relief as she saw his aura still vibrant, though shot through with the dull red of pain and injury. Of Nikolai and Reah there was no sign. She looked up and saw Victor also gazing around, comprehension dawning in his eyes.
”You must destroy Tr’vlan’s vessel,” Z’thrukaht commanded as he began extricating himself from Tash, ”I must go recover.”
“Oh, no you don’t, mister,” Tash blurted, “We need some help, dammit. There’s a battle still going on, if you hadn’t noticed.”
”The Monitor is acting on its last instruction from Tr’vlan. You know enough to countermand it. Destroy the vessel, quickly!”
“What vessel? What are you…” Z’thrukaht vanished like a wisp of fog on a windy day, and Tash snarled in frustration. “One of these days I’ll get some straight answers out of you, you little shithead.”
Tash faced Victor, who stood amongst the trampled remains of the verdant patch next to a blob that looked like a lava lamp without its glass and liquid. Victor looked at her for a moment and she nodded that she was all right. “Z’thrukaht said to destroy the vessel,” she said quickly, “But I’m not sure what he meant. Is that it?” She pointed to the blob.
Victor nodded. “It’s the vessel that housed Tr’vlan,” he said bitterly, “and I’ll be more than happy to destroy it.”
“Good, I’ve got to stop the fight before everyone is killed.”
Alice was furiously slashing at the Battle Fiends that surrounded her, rolling through legs and somersaulting over grasping arms. “Now would be good, if you can,” she called between grunts of effort.
Tash concentrated on the Monitor – their Monitor. Her Monitor, as she’d started to think of it. Tr’vlan is dormant. Your last order is countermanded. Go to sleep. She repeated the command, ignoring the sounds of Alice fighting the group of demons that surrounded her, the satisfied growls that emanated from Victor’s throat as he tore chunks from the blob, and the wet plopping noises those chunks made as they splattered against the floor.
“Hold off fighting, Alice,” Tash called. “Just dodge. Don’t strike them.”
Alice rolled her eyes as she narrowly avoided a lethal blow from a Battle Fiend. “Are you kidding?” she yelled back.
“No. They’ll shut down in a second. If you keep attacking they’ll keep fighting in self defence.”
Alice rolled between the legs of a fiend behind her and sprinted away from the group. Sure enough, they didn’t follow her but instead milled around for a moment or two before they began to wander off to their respective tunnels again.
While Victor kept working on tearing apart Tr’vlan’s ‘vessel’, Tash looked among the bodies of fallen Battle Fiends for the rest of her friends. “Where are Reah and Nikolai?” she asked of Alice, who had gone to tend to Darian.
“Some Battle Fiends invited them to a rave someplace else. Dunno which tunnel though. I was a little busy with my own party guests at the time.”
“Damn.” Tash opened up her senses to see if she could feel either of them, a cold knot of fear in her stomach at what might have befallen her friends. She cocked her head minutely - there. She could feel both Reah's and Nikolai's essences. And pain. And... Alice was looking at her quizzically.
"Uh," Tash stammered, "Look, you keep working on Darian. And I think Victor will be busy for a while. They can’t be far away – I’ll go look."
[/]Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Day Five – G’rnatha
Morning
The throng of Battle Fiends pressed around them. Nikolai’s adrenaline was currently pumping too fast to let him be appropriately embarrassed at the fact that he’d gotten himself backed into a corner, and had to be saved. Being completely out of ammo did not help, and he found the sword Reah had grudgingly tossed him only slightly intuitive.
She glared at his inept handling of her precious weapon. “Pull yourself together,” she growled.
At some point they’d lost sight of Tash and the others, in the press of the large Battle Fiends. Reah was in the middle of going for the neck of one. Nikolai slashed at a Battle Fiend, oozing slime as he tried to reach her. “What the fuck are you doing?” she snapped at him when he grabbed her arm.
The Battle Fiends had fallen back a few feet, preparing for another charge. “We can’t fight this many at once!” he yelled, looking for some sort of exit.
Reah grunted something as she prepared to lunge at the nearest one. “You might not; but I can!”
*Screw this,* Nikolai thought, grabbing Reah around the waist. He dragged her down the passageway, cursing him the entire time. Battle Fiends started to pursue. Even if they couldn’t make their way back and just delayed the inevitable, at least distracting some of them might buy everyone else the time they needed.
Fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Nikolai found down one of the corridors what seemed to be an outcropping. While the Fiends were not in sight, they were catching up. He pulled Reah into the outcropping, which should hopefully shield them from the Battle Fiends. He was amazed at her strength. Only extreme luck permitted him to keep hold of her.
At the last moment, he clamped his hand down over her mouth to stop the flow of curses. Her mumbled sounds ceased as the alien warriors ran down the passage, driven by the thought to pursue rather than hunt. The single-minded drive of the chase sent the fiends further down the passageway, leaving the pair mercifully alone.
Reah’s venomous glare bored straight into Nikolai, loath at him and his interference in her battle. *The bloody mongrel of a bastard prick!* she thought furiously as she bit hard down on the fingers of his hand that still clasped her mouth.
“What the hell did you stop me for? I would‘ve finished them!” she hissed after Nikolai painfully ripped his fingers from the clutches of her jaw.
*Fucking ungrateful bitch,* Nikolai thought in the middle of screaming in pain. “Ten or so, maybe,” he snapped back. “Not the other couple of dozen that were getting ready to overwhelm us! We had to pull back to regroup.” Nikolai rubbed his hand unconsciously, hoping the pain would go down.
“You had no right to do that! I can make my own decisions and save my own ass, thank you very much!”
"Fine then! Next time, I'll just save my own ass and leave you to be trampled to death on an alien world!"
“Fine!” Reah savagely pushed him out of her way, and slammed him into the wall, “Oh, and by the way, mate, I’ll have my sword back.”
Nikolai had completely forgotten about the fact that he was holding the sword. In the heat of the moment, he didn’t care. “You can keep it,” he snapped. Without thinking, he spun Reah around and shoved her into the wall, staring into her eyes with his glowing pair.
“We can kill each other when we get home, ok? Until then, we fight the giant roaches.”
Reah grimaced with irritation as she hit the wall, growling vengefully at the impossible man.
Snatching back her sword she then all but ignored it, abandoning the deadly blade to clatter the ground as she lashed back at him with one hand. Like a savage Reah slammed him back against his wall, pinning his shoulder blade and forcefully grinding it right into a protruding rock. *Tell me what to do, will you?* she thought furiously.
Without thinking, she’d retracted her free fist, blades reflexively shooting out ready for the offence. In the brief flash of a microsecond her fist began to fall, soaring directly at Nikolai’s glowing eyes when there was a sudden change of tone in Reah’s baleful eyes.
Time slowed as the realisation of her actions dawned.
She couldn’t, not now….
“No!”
Her blades missed, merely scathing him with the shallowest cut just short of his left eye as they were driven solidly into the looming cave wall. Reah’s body followed through, crashing into Nikolai’s.
Dropping her defences, and for reasons she couldn’t decipher, she ground her body hard into his own. Pressing her mouth firmly against his, she pashed him with the intensity of a caged animal: bound and gagged for far too long.
It was with a certain amount of resignation that Nikolai had been prepared to die. He knew in the instant she started on the offensive that there was no way he could move in time. Not with her speed and strength in pinning him to the wall.
A moment of relief came when all he felt was a cut, the sound of rock breaking. His body instinctively reacted to Reah pressing against his body, the combination of adrenaline and surprise at being alive pushing him to respond with equal zeal. Even though his neck hurt from the ferocity of the now sexual assault.
The rational part of his mind was screaming about Zoë and the fact that Reah just tried to kill him. It was also in full rout.
Nikolai pushed back on her arm at the elbow, pulling the claw out of the wall. It remained extended as he twisted the arm back, hoping that she would not try to stab him again. Instead he found her fiercely pulling him towards the ground, pressing him back against the rock wall.
The scrape of her blades could be heard as they carved steadily down the wall, Nikolai’s ruined coat catching and pulling on the rough surface as Reah’s body persisted to grind against his while they continued to slide towards the uneven, dusty cave floor.
Reah hooked her arm around his neck as they finally slumped heavily to the ground, her breath catching slightly at the solid contact, and what she could only assume was yet another rock digging into the small of her back; not that she gave it much care.
Her blades suddenly retracted and she curled her fingers around the collar of Nikolai’s shirt, wrenching his looming body as close as humanly possible; restrained only by the law of physics that does not allow for two objects to occupy the same space at the same time.
Fervently, her slung arm clenched and flexed at the obstructing jacket. Sparks of frustration intensified and she forced her hand to drive down his back, when suddenly six successive, unexpected shards from nowhere seemed to protrude, slashing into her hand. Reah winced at the sting and groaned.
Biting hard down on his shoulder, she extended the claws of her hand to slash back at the jacket, tearing it off over their heads when she caught glimpse of an odd sight, but barely even registered. Six upward turned spikes had punctured through Nikolai’s shirt along his spine.
Her hands and body continued to grope and grind for his, then her mouth hovered back, whispering on the exhale before one final gasp that delved into another pash, “Interesting…”
Nikolai did not think she could bite down quite as hard as she did on his shoulder, wincing in pain. He did not notice or care that his jacket was now split in two pieces; neither would he have noticed Reah trailing blood on the back of his shirt with her hand. Not that he was exactly focused on much besides trying to get closer to her.
He started to work furiously on her coat, although Reah’s survived the process in much better condition than Nikolai’s jacket only because he lacked claws. All thoughts of the battle going on had fled from them, caught in the moment.
“What… the… hell...?” he muttered when his hand found its way under a shirt.
Their words were barely comprehensible, said between various pashes. “Armour,” Reah muttered. She pulled off her tank top to reveal the black, weird material that fitted snug to her body. After several minutes of Nikolai fumbling with it Reah became frustrated, helping to remove it.
Awkwardly, being pressed into the rough cavern ground, they finally managed to peel the form fit down to her waist.
“..m-better?” she managed around duelling tongues.
“Mnohga…”
Reah wrapped her legs securely about Nikolai’s waist. Hands journeying south, she fumbled with the buckle on his belt as he snaked his arms under her body, lifting her off the ground. Reah contemplated the use of her claws again, but quickly thought better.
The pair groped ardently at each other; Nikolai seated with his legs doubled back under him, leaning against the rock wall while with his arms entwined about Reah’s lithe form pressed firmly against his. Her legs remained enclosed around him as she continued to work purposefully at his belt. Not a single breath escaped as the two drew from one another, like starved animals.
Tash’s senses led her unerringly to the right tunnel. Behind her, the sounds of Victor’s almost mindlessly brutal assault on Tr’vlan’s vessel slowly faded as she entered the cool tunnel. She felt blood oozing down her calf and the throbbing in her leg grew as she walked, making her wish she’d taken the time to bandage it before she’d gone on her manhunt. A small group of Battle Fiends passed her in the corridor, unmindful of her presence. No doubt they were the remains of the group that had been fighting Reah and Nikolai and were now returning to whatever duties were normal for them, since the Monitor had ceased its battle orders.
She shivered as she approached the epicentre of the sensations that washed over her mind. More pain, and much more of the passion she’d felt in the cavern when she’d first cast out for them. *Incredible timing, guys. Geez!* Though Tash remembered, with some embarrassment, how she’d felt last year after fighting vampires, before she’d come to terms with Ohenewaa’s legacy of dark lust. She of all people well understood how the heat of battle could lead to other kinds of heat.
Sure enough, around the next bend she stopped, surveying the two as they sat against the rock wall, arms and legs entwined around each other and more than a little blood flowing from both their bodies. She stood for a few seconds waiting for them to notice her, but they were far too embroiled in their own passions to notice anything beyond themselves.
“Ahem,” she began, “I hate to interrupt, but in case you were wondering the battle is over.”
Reality slammed hard into Reah, knocking her stone cold. Her body stiffened as hard as the rock surrounding them as she stared, eyes bulging, at the Russian’s face pressed right up into her own. It took only a moment before Nikolai noticed the sudden change in her body language, vaguely recalling the presence of someone else. He paused, frowning, and pulled away slowly in confusion just in time to register the loud ‘crack’!
Tash winced in empathy as Reah punched Nikolai solidly in the face, resulting in that loud crack that resounded through the tunnel. Nikolai’s hand shot to his jaw, cradling it even as Reah grumbled to herself and pushed away from him, shoving the back of his head against the rock wall in her haste to distance herself.
Tash merely stood, arms folded, as Reah gathered the scattered remains of her clothes and began by tugging up what looked to be some form of body armour that was rolled down around her waist. Reah kept her eyes downcast, avoiding contact with anyone, so Tash turned her attention to Nikolai who remained seated, his face a mask of pain.
“Here,” Tash said gruffly, “I’ll look at that jaw, then you can get dressed too.” She squatted next to Nikolai and held his face in her hands, probing gently to see what the problem was. Blood dripped over her fingers from a long gash in his cheek as she felt around his jawline. “Not too bad,” she observed, “Dislocation on the right side. Good punch, Reah.”
"Yes, very good," Nikolai tried to say in embarrassment. It instead came something like ‘yeeesheryood’.
“Shh,” Tash said, “Hold still. This’ll hurt a bit, but it’ll be over quick.” She held the jaw in both hands, her fingers supporting the hinge joint at the back. Then with a twist of her wrist she felt the bone grate and ‘snick’ back into its socket. Nikolai’s eyes squinted shut in the sudden pain, but then he began working the jaw slowly, feeling its returned movement.
“It’ll be tender for a few days, still. Just as well our diet consists of soft meat. Now,” she gestured to the mangled remains of his jacket, “get dressed so we can return to the others.”
Nikolai moved to look around for his clothes, unaware of the new protrusion sfrom his body. His pants and shirt were still on, leaving him to find his blazer as he avoided everyone's gaze. The jacket was ruined. Sighing and looking back up, he caught Tash's wide-eyed gaze at him... or rather, directed at his back. "What now?" he croaked out, still rubbing his jaw.
Tash’s eyes flicked from his glowing blue irises to the three-inch long spines jutting from his spine. “You’ve been,” she cast around for an appropriate word, “evolving some more. On your back.”
"My dear Tasha, just tell me what you're talking about and don't make me play guessing games."
“Your back, Kolya. You’ve grown a cute little set of Battle Fiend spikes.” Tash tried to keep her tone light, but inwardly she was worried. Were these changes permanent? Nikolai might live with the eyes, but the spines could be harder to cope with in everyday life – assuming they ever got home.
Nikolai blinked in confusion before sending a hand to feel his back. Sure enough, there were six equally spaced spikes on his spine... and the movement revealed similar spikes on the elbows. For a full minute, he said nothing, then finally found one phrase. "I will be dipped in shit."
“Maybe. No time to worry about that now. We just seriously pissed off a Creator, ok? No major injuries? Good. Let’s get back.” Tash led the way back to the cavern, the bloody, battered and somewhat bashful pair following behind.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday 26 July 2006 01:28am
Los Angeles
It was one of Sorrow’s usual night-time haunts – a darkened alley on the edge of downtown Los Angeles. He’d been spending more time here recently. The shadows were deeper, the prey both human and vampire more plentiful. With the destruction of the major players - After Dark and Narcosis - the vampires were looking for new places to hide and the demonic community, stirred up by rumours of Elders in the city and rumblings of a cleansing of the bloodlines, had forced the vampires into the open. Plots and powerplays between the remaining players were stirring the pot even more. It almost made Sorrow’s task easy.
The particular mixed group of humans and vampires that had caught Sorrow’s eye about ten minutes ago weren’t the usual type he saw on the streets. The humans had the unhealthy pallor and emaciated appearance of drug addicts – heroin chic in all its truthful ‘glory’, but the vampires weren’t much better even accounting for the fact they were dead. Their actions made them almost obvious. The bite marks on human necks, probably passed off by ordinary mortals as nothing more than a mark of passion, were a beacon to anyone who understood how the world really worked. Their movements were furtive even on the main streets and in trying to hide from others' attention instead drew more to themselves.
His instincts told him this was a trap, but what he wondered was whether it a trap for him or someone else. Either way these were bloodsuckers and Sorrow intended to end their existence tonight. Sorrow checked Hizashi as he extended his senses outward. Opening the shutters on his mind Sorrow listened to the city's song picking out the discordant noise that indicated the presence of vampires. He smiled grimly; as he suspected, it was a trap. Though the group of addicts he was following had only five vampiric members another seven were hidden in the shadows surrounding the area.
Still they all felt young; there were no centenarians in this group, so he felt comfortable in springing this particular trap.
***
Sam stood in the darkness overlooking a deserted parking lot. A simple trick Valerian had showed her kept her hidden from view. She’d even felt the faint brush of Sorrow’s magic a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately she could put no other power forward so if she was to remain hidden she had to merely watch her ‘brood’. And hidden she must remain. Valerian had been quite clear on that. She was not to show her hand too early.
The bait to the ‘trap’ had taken up position at the edge of the lot and were starting to feed just as Sorrow started down the alley. Sam smiled. *He knows, of course.* The trap was only the beginning - with the Society about to declare Sorrow anathema and any number of hunters about to descend on the city it was all about to get very interesting for Tristan.
Sam watched the battle in front of her with interest. Sorrow didn’t even bother with his blade initially, instead relying on the classic wooden stake beloved of hunters and Slayers everywhere. When the reinforcements arrived though, Hizashi made an appearance and a decisive one.
The glowing blade illuminated the darkness and with a grace no normal human could muster. Sorrow despatched the remaining vampires with balletic ease.
*Enjoy your victories, Tristan. they’ll be harder fought in the future…*
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 10th
Alessa’s place,
dinner time.
Alessa watched Chance as she cooked. He had taken to helping her with the setting of the table and cleaning, trying to be as useful as he could. He was silent, though, going about his chores with a frown on his handsome face, obviously concentrated in his thoughts. *Thinking about the Elders, most probably,* she thought and felt guilty at not having shared what she knew about them.
At first she hadn’t wanted to tell him about Ernie. The man had told her that he preferred to be kept in secret, but she couldn’t go on living with Chance and not telling him. He was becoming too important to her to do so. And Ernie’s suspicions, which were hers as well, were eating at her; she needed to tell him…
“Chance,” she said, turning off the stove and turning to face him, “I need to tell you something. Chance!” she repeated as he, concentrating as he was, didn’t answer.
“Yes?” he asked, smiling distractedly at her. “What is it?”
“I need to tell you something.” Noticing the tone of her voice, Chance looked at her. She had all his attention now. Alessa signalled him to sit down. With a frown, he did so and looked at her expectantly.
“Last week, after I went to your place for the first time, I went to a friend’s house as well… his name is Ernie, and he used to be a Watcher. He was Morris’ best friend. You know, Morris, my ex?” she waited for his nod and continued. “Well, I asked him about the Elders. He usually knows what’s going around, you know.”
At this Chance leaned on the table, his interest kindled, silent as Alessa told him about her conversation with Ernie.
***
“… there are four surviving Elders,” continued Ernie. “Valerian, Krispin, Nicholas and…”
“Dathan,” interrupted Alessa, nodding. “He’s the one Morris was always talking about. In fact he was investigating him in Paraguay… what? What!?” she asked when she saw the look on the old man’s eyes.
“You never told me that,” he seemed agitated, “you never told me Morris had been investigating Dathan at the time of his death… why didn’t you tell me, Alessa?”
“Why? Well, he was always researching that vampire, it was his obsession…” She stopped cold as realization came to her mind. She stared her friend in horror, opening her mouth but no sound coming from it.
“But, but, Dathan was like his hobby,” she protested at last, as she realized that she hadn’t mentioned the old vampire to Ernie until now. Morris always researched on Dathan, he had been obsessed with him. Every time they got to a new place, a new library, a new culture, he researched about the vampire. He was so old, he had told her, that you could find traces of him almost everywhere, especially South America, where he had dwelled for so long, so long ago. At the time of his death, he had been researching the vampire again, but she had been too involved in her own reasons for being in Paraguay at the time to pay him much attention.
Morris had had time enough to himself then, Alessa remembered. She had been training with her mother’s kind, and had been absent for days at a time. He had been travelling to the old Company of Jesus’ missions, that she remembered. He had taken her there in one occasion and she had marvelled at the opulent ruins that resided so close to her birth town and yet she had never visited before. Now that she thought about it, he had been extremely pleased with his work those last days, excited about something he had discovered… but she had had her own accomplishments to be excited about, and they hadn’t had time to share anything.
She looked again to Ernie’s anxious face. She didn’t fail to see the connection now. She must have been blind before. The only excuse she could think of was that Morris' research about Dathan could be traced back to his training days, or so he had told her. So ever-present that she hadn’t even thought about it. She took her head in her hands and her eyes welled with tears.
“Well,” sighed Ernie, “at least now we know why you didn’t find the vampires who killed Morris. If they were working under Dathan’s orders the odds of you finding them were low if not nonexistent.”
“But, why? He had been researching him for years, why then? He could have killed him years before… he could have…”
“Don’t try to understand his reasons, Alessandra,” he interrupted. “The Elders don’t think in the same terms that we do.Time is not important for creatures of their age. There are records of Krispin waiting hundreds of years to accomplish something…” he paused, deep in his thoughts. “However, we should try to understand what triggered the attack anyway. What do you remember about your time in Paraguay?”
“Not much,” said Alessa with a grimace. “I was training in the jungle and he spent most of the time alone.” Then she told him about the visits to the Mission's ruins. “Maybe he found something important there? I think he wrote something about that in his diary, though…”
“Of course! The diary!” exclaimed Ernie. “There must be something in the diary! Something about Dathan!”
“Why, of course there is!” answered Alessa, “Most of it is about Dathan, but I never found it strange, given his obsession with the vampire.”
“Yes, sure, but maybe there is something to explain why Dathan deigned to have him killed… Could you bring it next week? I’ll make my own research on the vampire in the meantime, and then we’ll go through it. I kind of remember there were some parts you didn’t understand, right?”
“Yes, sometimes Morris wrote in one ancient language or other... He said it was to keep his writing in form.” She smiled at the memories. “He liked writing and reading ancient languages…”
“Like any other Watcher, Alessa, like any other Watcher,” answered Ernie.
***
“Well,” she said as she finished, “I’m going to take the diary to Ernie next Saturday, and… and I thought you might want to go. Since you are so interested in the Elders yourself.” She doubted, and looked into his face.
“You bet I’m going,” he answered, and winked at her.
Alessa sighed, relieved. He didn’t seem angry with her, although he might have resented not being told about all this before. She stood up and returned to the kitchen. The dinner was getting cold.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday, August 10 – 11am
The punch bag took blow after blow as the teen constantly threw punches and kicks in its direction. She aimed each time at the crumpled picture of Britney Spears with fangs which she had previously drawn on. At least that way she could make training mildly amusing; after all beating the hell out of a punch bag was never quite as fun as beating the hell out of real vampires.
She heard a sharp knock on the door and went to answer it. Jess was probably locked in her study as per usual, head in a thousand books.
Opening the door she found Mantheana… and that guy she’d seen once before. The one she didn’t like (only because Mantheana didn’t like him, of course); the few memories she had were not fond.
Without giving Mantheana a chance to say anything Ellie shouted after Jess, “It’s Mantheana and that bastard guy.” She hadn’t noticed Maria by Mantheana’s side, so didn’t bother to censor herself. She wandered off into the training room once again.
Jess was shocked to be greeted by a panic stricken and bruised Mantheana, Maria and… that guy she had saved a while back. She searched for a name for a moment before it came to her, *Bowen!*
She muttered a quick “Sorry,” to apologize for Ellie’s language then ignored the man's presence and turned to the troubled Mantheana. “Mantheana, what are you doing here? I mean, not that I don’t want you here… What’s wrong?
Jess' concern touched Mantheana, and she worked hard at suppressing the sobs that wracked her memory.
"I… Jessica… He came back. And he… He…" Mantheana took a big breath. "May I use your bathroom please?" Her eyes implored that Jess would consent.
Jess gave puzzled looks towards both Mantheana and Bowen before nodding and quickly sliding out of the doorway, and hastily showed Mantheana to the bathroom.
She quickly turned back to the living room where she joined Bowen, who had already taken his place pacing the room. “You know Manthe-” she quickly interrupted her own question. “Of course you do…What’s wrong with her? She looks in a dreadful state.”
"She is." Bowen frowned, "He's back. Her ex-boyfriend... y'know? Maria's dad?”
“Oh...” her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at Bowen, and then looked to Maria who was sitting cross legged on the rug with the great wolf. “Do you know anything else? What happened?”
“Well," suddenly Bowen appeared both secretive and slightly embarrassed, "from what I have gathered he was planning on reinstating himself into her life. When she refused, he tried to force himself…" he widened his eyes on the word 'force' so as to try and add meaning to it.
“Oh…shit…” She cringed as she again remembered the small child’s presence. “I better go speak to Mantheana,” she remarked, before quickly adding, “Make yourself at home.”
“Mantheana, will you open up?” she asked, her voice reduced to a calm, consoling tone. “Bowen’s told me all he can and I’m so sorry, really I am. Can I do anything – get anything for you?”
There was a knock at the door and Mantheana sat up. She smoothed down her hair and opened the bathroom door slightly to see Jess' concerned face looking at her.
Mantheana semi-shrugged and let Jess into the bathroom. She put the lid down on the toilet and sat on it, her hands crawling back to their place on her crossed knees. She still felt uncomfortable in modern clothes, but was grateful for what Bowen had provided.
"I'm just so… scared. I thought maybe I could end it… I d-don't need him any more. I have Maria a-and she's my strength. But when I… He vas so strong, I-" Mantheana cut off and started to sniffle, her eyes welling with water that proceeded to run down her face. "I'm sorry."
“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Jess shrank against the wall so as to be at the same height as Mantheana and gave a bleak smile. She put her hand on top of the other woman’s as a comfort; she really didn’t know what else to offer. “I’m sure we can sort this out.”
Mantheana returned the smile, joyless as Jess'.
"I… Bowen doesn’t know… the whole story about me. I have up until now chosen to omit certain details from vot I tell him. So if you could… tread carefully over those matters… I vill tell him… just not yet."
“Ah, of course.” She returned another bleak smile. Jess really didn’t know what to say or what Mantheana wanted – so she sat there, letting the silence say what she couldn’t and waiting on Mantheana with a certain patience.
"I know there's not really much you can do. Maybe he von't be back, but it still nags at the back of my mind. I suppose I just need to know… that if things get vorse. That I'm not alone…"
“Of course you’re not alone. You have your friends, and Maria of course, and don’t forget Yasha-“ Jess offered a friendly smile. “We really should get out of here. Will you come outside?”
"Yeys… yeys of course." Mantheana wiped her eyes and stood up, following Jess out of the bathroom.
“Can I get you a drink or anything? Or do you want to sit down? We can go in my office if you like.”
"Anything hot," Mantheana smiled authentically for a second before her face became a bruised object of sadness like it was before.
"A coffee, if that’s ok." Bowen too put on a smile. It was a brave smile, fake but strong. He moved closer to Mantheana as she held onto his arm for support.
“Sure.” And another smile from Jess. She wandered into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, returning to the living room where the others stood.
Another uncomfortable silence
"I… is there anything that can be done… for protection?" Mantheana whispered.
She looked from Mantheana to Bowen again in a slightly uncomfortable stare. “Eh, there’s the, you know… magics, but I’m not all too familiar with anything very powerful. You’d want a banishing spell or something like it, I think. But then, that would only work on your home…”
Jess paused to think about what she was saying. “Unless you’re talking physical damage…” Her eyes narrowed.
Mantheana looked stunned for a second, as if the notion had never occurred to her.
"No, just… to keep him avay from the house. If I can keep him avay then maybe he'll just…"
“Of course,” Jess smiled warmly. “I’ll work on something for you, get on the books.”
Mantheana suddenly looked hopeful for the first time that morning.
"Thank you…" Mantheana suddenly burst forward and embraced Jess, surprising even herself with her forwardness. "If you could call me, or come round… or anything! I'm so grateful!"
Glad that she could at least do something to help her friend, Jess nodded. Although they didn’t know each other as well as they could, she wanted to do all she could. “I can come round tomorrow, if you like.”
She walked back into the kitchen to make the long overdue coffee, the dog following closely at her feet. “Is there anything else you want me to do? You can stay here for now if you wish,” she asked as she joined the others again, handing a mug to both Bowen and Mantheana, and a beaker of juice to Maria.
For a while there was near silence, but it was no longer uncomfortable.
It was Maria who first spoke. "Mama… am I going to school today?"
Mantheana looked thoughtful. "Niet pteetsa. I think you should stay at home… at least until this can be sorted out. Da?
"Da."
"Mantheana, I think we should start getting you and Maria home." Bowen looked vaguely nervous. Mantheana nodded. It had been a long night, and though she was wary of her home now, she saw the logic in returning there.
“If that’s what you want, Mantheana. You just take care, okay?”
With that Jess approached Maria. She bent down, placing her hands on her knees the way adults do when talking to small children and whispered in her ear. “You look after your Mummy until tomorrow, okay Maria?”
Maria, yet another Alashkov to inherit the trait, raised a "does the phrase patronize mean anything to you?" eyebrow for a second, but then smiled. She liked Jess, and was proud that her mother had found such a caring friend.
"I will." She stood up carefully and walked over to her mother, taking Mantheana's hand. Yasha was behind her like lightening, and now that Mantheana had her cloak about her once more, the group of four moved to the door.
"Thank you so much Jessica," Mantheana whispered, and with that, they started the short journey to Mantheana's house.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thurday 10th August, 11:30 am onwards
The door was not locked; Mantheana had been too rushed for that. Nothing had been taken, but the scene was still an unpleasant one. There was water all over the marble floor where Mantheana had re-entered from the rain. Blood was on the sofa and small flecks could be seen on the floor.
Mantheana shuddered as they entered. Tired as she was, she immediately started trying to clean up. She didn’t want reminders of the past night's events. Maria and Bowen started to help, but when she stumbled in her heels she became frustrated and kicked the sofa before starting to cry. She fell to her knees and there was silence except for Mantheana's wracking sobs. Maria continued smoothing over cushions before taking Mantheana's hand. She nodded at Bowen who started tidying once more and led Mantheana upstairs to her room.
"You can get changed now, Mama. Into your clothes." She stroked her mother's hand and left her to get changed.
Mantheana looked at herself in the mirror and hated what she saw. Herself, but mutilated by him. She no longer felt the need to smile and this angered her. He had no right to come in and wreck things all over again. She stripped off and was once more unimpressed. So she picked up one of her dresses and secured herself inside. She felt better now. Slowly she was becoming the woman she had been before he came. When the bruise eventually left her face, there would be no physical evidence of his appearance. This prospect was soothing, and brushing her hair back into orderly locks she felt better being at home.
There was a knock at her door, and she jumped as bad memories ricocheted in her head. "Come in."
Bowen's head popped round the door, closely followed by the rest of his body.
"Hi." There was silence. The absence of sound was becoming commonplace. "You look… better. Like you're yourself, you know?" They both sat on the bed, and Mantheana took Bowen's hand.
"Thank you. For all you have done, for Maria and I. I don't know why you..." she paused, feeling the warmth of a normal person on her palms, "Why you stay. I don't deserve a friend like you." And she knew that she didn't. Bowen had done nothing but help her since the day they met, and she had done nothing but rely upon him. Mantheana smiled and it was real.
"I want to help you," Bowen whispered. He didn't need to whisper, but the occasion seemed to call for it. "And I want to…" he stopped, unsure if he wanted to go on. He was treading thin ice. He knew Mantheana was aware of his feelings, and he often wondered the extent of her feelings for him. Every now and then, the was a moment like...
This.
They kissed. It was sombre but passionate, proving they were both very much aware of the situation. There was a pause, and they moved apart. The moment was uncomfortable and not. There was a knock at the door.
Maria stepped inside. "The bed next door is made." She opened the door wider, indicating that they should follow her. At their puzzled faces, she simply stated, "After last night, until Jess does her magics, I don't think we should be alone."
Bowen nodded. "Is that ok with you Mantheana?"
"Of course… please do stay. It feels safer." She smiled, took Bowen's hand and led him to the room next door.
Later, alone in her bed, she could hear his breathing next to Maria's. The house sounded strangely alive and noisy, though to any human it might seem extraordinarily quiet. Remembering this was a sign that she was not alone, Mantheana closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Friday 11th August - 10.30am
The car pulled onto the kerb by the large mansion and Jess stepped out. It had only been a day since Mantheana had come knocking at her door wanting her help; so she was here now, doing what she could. She pulled a small cardboard box from the back seat, which had been stacked full with all kinds of small bottles and herbs.
Ellie got out as well, closing the two heavy but modern books that lay on her lap. She had dressed in a slightly more neutral way to normal, thinking it perhaps more apt, although Jess had insisted they get to Mantheana as soon as possible.
They made their way up the long driveway, which was overgrown with beautiful plants. Then stopping at the heavy oak doorway, Jess knocked loudly.
There was a scraping as a small panel was drawn away, and it became clear that there was a glass viewer straight through the door. There was some mumbling, and finally, "Hi. Urm… come in, we're all ready."
Bowen stood back and let them enter the cold building.
Inside the lounge a large fire was burning under the chimney. Maria was sitting in front of it, Yasha curled around her. He lifted his head as the newcomers approached, but lowered it as he recognised them.
Jess held her hand up as a small greeting to Bowen, offering with it a smile. She walked further into the room, Ellie following close behind and they approached Maria.
“Hi Maria,” she whispered over her shoulder in a jolly manner before returning to Bowen. “Where’s Mantheana? Is she feeling any better today?”
"She'll be right down. She's feeling much better, but she is anxious to get this over and done with. She wants to keep him out. If you could, err… start setting up…" It was clear Bowen had no concept of what exactly was entailed here. He gave his trademark sheepish look.
She dropped the box on the couch and began unpacking various ingredients and placing them on the floor. Taking a small bowl she mixed a little thyme, garlic, rosemary, clover and sage together as Bowen looked on, raising a slight eyebrow.
Maria watched meticulously as the ritual started, letting her attention slip only for a second when Mantheana appeared in the room.
“Hey,” Jess smiled brightly but not overly so; it didn’t feel right after yesterday's happenings. “How are you?”
"Better, thank you," came the reply, and Mantheana went to sit on a sofa and watch, with Maria at her feet.
“That’s good,” Jess said quietly, offering a smile with it. “I’m going to banish him from the house then protect the residents, which would be you and Maria. It should be pretty simple, really. First I need to know his surname, though.”
"Trankski. Mikhail Trankski." It was blurted, sounding strange from one so well spoken as Mantheana. "Sometimes he used pseudonyms. If we were in another country, to fit in… Meikel Trankstein, Michael Trackston, Tanaki Mihe. If that’s any help. But he was originally Russian… and Mikhail."
Jess rested her hand on Mantheana’s shoulder in a friendly, reassuring gesture. “I’ll only be a minute.”
She walked to the front door, Ellie following close behind, intent on learning some basic magic skills. The words came to Jess quickly; a spell she’d used all too often, although it served the job most of the time, and she hoped it would work for Mantheana.
“Guard this threshold,
Guard this door,
So that Mikhail Trankski
Can pass no more.”
Maria blinked. "That was quick."
“That should have worked, although hopefully we won’t have to test it. I’ve got one more, just for good measure though.” She came back to the couch where Mantheana sat watching and took the bowl of herbs she had mixed earlier. Jess gave a small handful to Ellie, and sent her into the other rooms of the house to sprinkle it around a little. Jess did the same downstairs and they got the job done quickly.
“Magic wheel twist, magic wheel turn
Round this house this spell's begun
All fights against evil, my battle be won
Mother goddess shine your light on this place
This day protect the occupants, protect this home
With harm to none, this will be done.”
A small noise crept around the house, an echoing whisper sounding like the shuffle of leaves in the wind. It was done, and would work for sure. “There.” Jess looked to Mantheana. “Anything else you need?”
"No. Thank you. You've done more than enough already." Mantheana was looking less weary, feeling safer in her own home already. She shook Jess' hand vigorously.
Jess accepted the handshake but also gave Mantheana a brief embrace. “It’s really no problem.” She pulled back, “If you need me any time you know where I am. We really should get going though,” Jessica added, looking to Ellie then back to Mantheana. “You keep well.”
Mantheana may have been crying, but she swept her hand over her face and if there ever were tears, they were now gone.
"I will. You too. I'll call you soon."
Maria stood up. "Thank you. This means a lot to all of us. Be careful Jessica, and Ellie. There are bad creatures outside. Sometimes you can't hide, even in your own house… Be careful because… I like you, and Mama likes you, ok?" She smiled, apparently pleased with her little speech.
Jess tried hard to suppress the huge grin that threatened her as she looked to Maria.
“You be careful too, Maria. You’re a great kid, and you’re lucky to have a mum like you do, so you take care of her.” She picked the cardboard box up in both hands, and Ellie followed her to the door.
As they left, Mantheana and Bowen stood on the door step and waved. Maria had disappeared once more, into the depths of the house.
Slayer, Your number is up.
Sunday 13th August 2006 – 9pm
Ramiro hung from the fourth floor balcony and his arms were aching. He had two floors to go and he wasn't about to back down in front of his camradas. He had accepted el jale and now he was going to make sure it went down. Behind him, Hector and Johnny were both sweating like fat women in a gym. Johnny had a cigarette hanging from his lip and his right eye was all red from the smoke blowing into it. The trio climbed two floors higher and stopped on the sixth floor.
Ramiro climbed over the balcony and looked into the sliding glass door into the sparse dining room. There wasn't anyone home it appeared. He could see into the tiny kitchen from the balcony where dishes were piled in the sink carelessly. Johnny and Hector climbed over and Johnny wheezed like an old man from the exertion. "Why we not climb in a second floor window Ramiro?" asked Hector.
"Because, stupido, people lock their back doors on the second floor!" Ramiro hissed. He slowly pulled at the door and it glided back on well-oiled rollers. The three went inside and secured the apartment.
Ten minutes later Hector was flipping channels on the tube and Johnny was disconnecting the stereo system. Ramiro slapped him on the back of the head, "No jacking the shit, Johnny. The man gave us a bangin' job - that’s all we do."
Johnny looked hurt, "And how much he payin' us, dawg?"
Ramiro opened his mouth to repeat what the man had told him, "The reward of a lifetime." But this was Johnny. "Serious feria"
Johnny looked at Ramiro like he was about to bump titties then he shrugged his shoulders in frustration, "Dawg, I am so gonna hurt you if you are bonin' us. It had better be all that."
A buzz sounded at the intercom by the door. The closed circuit camera showed the rest of the boys looking innocent. Ramiro keyed the door button and they quickly rushed in before the la ley came around to check on them.
When they had all assembled in the apartment, the ten of them checked their gats and prepared to do the thing. They were veteranos at the bang: One floor up, apartment 713. Move fast. Cap anyone who fought except the girl with light brown hair.
Ramiro checked that he still had the syringe with the drug he had been told would be the only thing that would drop the girl. He kept the syringe a secret from the others since he was sure he could drop any chavala himself. But just in case he had brought it anyway...
The sound of Metallica filled every room within the apartment as Ellie stared at the moving images on the television set, nodding her head in rhythm to the beat. Today she had decided she was going to be a normal teen and not the Slayer… at least until dark.
Since Jess couldn’t persuade Ellie in any way to train today, she’d taken up position in front of the punch bag and was practising by herself. Despite Ellie being in her own bedroom and Jess across the other side of the flat the music still wafted through to her as she hammered the bag that hung from the ceiling.
She didn’t know if it was the fact that Ellie was chosen that had made her more mature and able to co-operate once in a while or something else, but they had both learnt to live with each other. Instead of screaming at each other over the volume of one's music, Jess would now just hum along and leave her be.
Ramiro could hear the music blaring from inside the apartment. He slowly checked the doorknob to see if it was locked. It was not.
"Boo-ya!" mouthed Ramiro silently. He hated slamming into doors in these places since it always killed the element of surprise. He held up three fingers and counted down. Three...Two...
An old lady with a tiny dog on a leash walked out into the hall. Ten color-wearing Crips turned and looked at her. Hector grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth but Johnny fumbled the dog. It barked loudly until he managed to twist its neck. Hector held his four-five on the old hag and Ramiro waved for them to get back in line. He held up two fingers this time. Two... One...
Jess finished up in the training room and walked out into the main room in her jogging trousers and sports top, sipping from a water bottle. Before she headed for her own room to change she stopped at Ellie’s door.
“Ellie? Are you ever gonna come o-” She froze in her tracks as the door snapped open and a gang of ten gun-wielding men entered the room.
Ramiro ran over to the dark-haired woman and pinned her against a wall. He pointed his cop-killer at her head and placed his hand over her mouth. "Don't fight me, carnala. You might live through this. We are here for the chavala -- the little girl."
Jess was shaking and tried hard not to look at Ellie's door. But teenage girls like to put signs on their room; the blaring music and Keep Out signs had already betrayed her. Hector and Johnny opened the door casually and strolled in with their guns out.
Ellie couldn’t find the profanities to describe her situation as she turned from the TV to face the open doorway so she sat there temporarily stunned. If she screamed for help they’d probably shoot her there and then… and that was about all she could think of.
Her eyes narrowed as she sat silently staring before she finally spoke, her voice a stutter for perhaps the first time. “W-what do you want?”
Johnny just laughed, sending little streams of smoke from his nose. Hector stuffed his gun in his pants and put his hands on his hips, "You come wit' us chavala 'cause some loc payin' us mad bling to jack you."
Hector reached for her coldly. Overcoming her fear she nodded then smiled politely before taking to her feet. Ellie grabbed the man's arms just above the elbows and kneed him in the stomach in one swift movement ignoring for the moment the other guy with the gun pointed right at her. He couldn’t shoot if she stayed behind his friend, right?
Ramiro shouted into the room when he heard Hector's oof, "S'matter, Hector? You getting beat up by a baby girl?"
The other guys laughed at him as they surveyed the nice apartment. One or two of them played with the weights and bags while others whistled appreciatively at the collection of weaponry. Hector struggled to get free but Ellie's grip held him fast. Johnny started to get angry and reached over Hector's shoulders to grab at her.
Ellie ducked and weaved around Johnny's clumsy grabs. She twisted Hector's elbow hard and reached around him to grab at the gun in his pants. She had no intention of using it, but she figured it might give her some space to manoeuvre. This bedroom was far too cramped to fight.
Johnny managed to get a handful of hair and Ellie yelped as he jerked it hard. But he let go when she pushed the .45 auto into his eye socket. "Shit, Ramiro she jacked Hector's four five!" he swore.
Ramiro looked into Jess' eyes and spoke almost tenderly to her, "Sorry carnala it just went booty."
He did not break eye contact while he called back, "Chivala, drop the gun and your big sister don't get capped. You down wit' dat?"
Jess’ eyes widened at this and she attempted to signal that Ellie shouldn’t give in to them, which proved quite difficult when she couldn’t speak. Ellie looked from Jessica to the men and back again.
She shook her head defiantly. “You let her go, then I put it down.”
"Hey yo trip dis. Cap her, dawg," Ramiro nodded at one of the Crips holding the elderly neighbor.
He pulled out his gun and placed it at the back of her head and pulled the trigger without hesitating. Blood rocketed out of her face and decorated the floor. He dropped her face first and the puddle slowly expanded around her head.
"We serious chivala. You goin' back to the barrio wit' us."
She cringed at the sight of the dead woman and the puddle that surrounded her before quickly returning her gaze. She thought over her options and knew she only really had one.
Keeping eye contact with Jess’ captor the whole time, she crouched down, placing the gun on the floor. Reluctantly she pushed it towards Ramiro with her right foot, thinking it best not to play any games right now.
"Boo-ya!" said Ramiro.
Hector and Johnny stood there like two morons until Ramiro shouted at them, "Ese! Tie her up!"
The two pulled out plastic straps and hooked Ellie’s hands behind her and pulled them tight. Hector grabbed a long one and pulled it tight around her elbows as well. He whispered in her ear with venom in his voice, "I don' care how many weights you lift chica you ain't gonna break these ties."
Johnny was tying Ellie’s ankles when Jess started to struggle. Ramiro tucked his gun in the back of his pants and shoved her hard into the wall making her gasp. "No, carnala I said you live not you get nothin'. Me and the boys gonna leave you a little present."
He pointed at Johnny and Hector, "You two put her on the bed and sit on her. She don't move or even make a peep. She yell, she fight you get to stomp her."
"You, chica" he said to Jess while caressing her cheek, "Goin' back to the big bedroom."
Jess grimaced at his touch but kept silent as she tried her best to ignore the two men that pulled her towards her own room. She stared off at Ellie who attempted a brave face, giving Jess a weak smile before she saw her pushed away struggling.
Ramiro supervised the others searching the girl's pockets and taking her shoes. They then wrapped Ellie in a blanket and stuffed her into a laundry bag. He chuckled at the sounds Jess was making in the other room.
Hector and Johnny shoved the dark-haired beauty on the bed. "Strip for us, chica," said Johnny.
Jess was shaking with a mixture of both fear and anger now. She quickly scanned the room as she lay there. Her only advantage right now was she knew where the weapons where in this room; first she had to get to them
Her right arm slipped down the side of the bed and her hand found its way underneath. She felt the cold metal of a katana beneath her fingertips and managed to bring the weapon as near to the edge of the bed as possible. She slipped the other arm out of the t-shirt as a distraction, praying that the thugs would be more interested in her body.
Hector and Johnny were plainly not paying attention to what she was doing despite the fact they were staring at her intently. She gripped the katana and drew it out from its place beneath the bed. She made one smooth and powerful motion screaming a kiai to release her power in the stroke.
The side of Hector's face dropped on the floor, as did his arm and a chunk of his shoulder. Blood fountained out of his body towards Johnny. Johnny's jaw dropped and the cigarette that had been there landed on the carpet and sizzled in the blood. Jess' eyes focused on him. "No!" she shrieked, "Don't touch me!"
Johnny's puzzled expression at her incongruous statement turned to pain and bubbling red as she stabbed up through his guts and through his heart. She slung the bodies off to the side of the room while making whimpering noises and then stood quietly off to one side of the door caked in the rapidly drying gore of her captors.
In the living room Ramiro had been discussing why only he, Hector, and Johnny were going to get the girl. He pulled out the syringe and started to hand it to one of his boys but changed his mind. He plunged it into her flank through the canvas bag. Better safe than sorry.
He then sent off the seven Crips with the bag instructing them to wait for 'the man' back in the barrio. He would find them later.
He walked back to the bedroom. The door was closed and it was quiet inside. He opened the door and was disappointed to not see the girl naked and waiting for him on the bed. He turned his head and reacted almost instinctively to a silver blade swinging in an arc at his head.
He held up his gun and by some miracle it hit just ahead of the trigger guard. The momentum of the blow slammed the pistol into his face and he stumbled backwards out of the room. Jess pursued him as she had been taught. She drove him back until they stood in the center of the workout area. She stood in classic kenjutsu form. The gang-banger Ramiro stood holding his bloodied nose and pointing the gun at her.
She found it hard to contain her anger and not run at Ramiro that very moment. “You get out now and never come back and I don’t have to hurt you like I did the other two.” She breathed heavily as she shouted her words with fury, glowering from beneath furrowed brows.
"Chale, chica your big filero don' scare me. You gonna die now, no diggity." He leveled the gun at her head and started to pull the trigger.
After receiving the main gist of the words Ramiro spoke, she began muttering a spell under her breath. Ducking his aim she held her arm out in front of her. A small energy ball grew in Jess’ palm and she grinned. At last she had a small sense of hope.
Ramiro jerked to follow her motion and finished pulling the trigger. The gun exploded with white light at the muzzle. Jess' energy ball flew forward passing the bullet in the intervening couple of yards between them. The bullet spiralled as it mingled with eldritch forces and plowed a furrow into the hardwood floor of the workout room next to Jess' foot.
The ball of energy acquired a spin expanding it from roughly an inch in diameter to over a foot. It slammed into Ramiro and his skin crackled with tiny arcs of magical blue energy that crawled in wormlike patterns over his skin. His hand went numb and his arm, limp. The heavy metal gun dropped with a thud to the floor.
"Brujah!" he shouted and started to flee.
She gained on him within seconds as he headed for the door. With a swift lateral swipe his broken body fell to the floor, dead and pouring with blood. Jessica remained where she was for a long moment, just watching the body as the pale carpet absorbed rivulets of blood.
Her mind went blank then as she let herself fall to the floor, still gripping the blade firmly. A tear slowly traced its way from the corner of her eye to drip off Jess’ chin, falling onto the glistening bloodstained metal that lay across her lap. Her face was expressionless as she stared off into nothingness.
Notes: A Dictionary of gang slang can be found at
http://www.velocity.net/~acekc/gangslang.htm
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Day Five – G’rnatha
Late Morning
Victor stood over the smashed vessel that used to be the Creator Tr’vlan. He was feral in the way his eyes blazed and his old human habits showed in the way his shoulders heaved with breath he barely needed to draw.
"He's not dead, you know," he said to Tash, "He's just disconnected from the thought net. It won't take him long to get back to the other Creators. We need to move quickly."
He looked around at the others. Alice tended to Darian's wounds and Tash was bandaging the gash on her own leg. Reah and Nikolai looked as if they had survived their encounter, whatever it had been, though they both looked bloody and torn. Victor surveyed the fantastic landscape that had been there before. It was now splattered and torn like a Mardi-Gras float that had gone past its usefulness. The veneer gone, all that remained were the corpses and the rock. Even the Battle Fiends that had rushed so quickly to the party were now returning to the places from whence they’d come.
Victor looked around at the myriad exits. None of them looked familiar. But he felt a call, something he had not felt before. He slung the Stone onto his back and began to follow the urges, "Anyone who is still alive can come with me."
He slowed and looked over his shoulder at Tash, "Still alive?" he asked in a softer tone.
Tash nodded. "Just about," she replied, equally softly. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it before letting go and turning back to marshal her troops. "Can everyone walk? How’s Darian?"
Alice looked at the comatose Darian. SMACK! She slapped him across the face. "Nope. He's not dead, but not getting up either." Alice lifted him over her shoulder and walked to Victor. Brandishing the cooling knife in her off hand, she looked at him. "Run away again! I dare you."
Reah let the words of the surrounding party wash right over her, insistent on staring straight ahead with dead thoughts. She was mentally determined to keep them from rising and rampaging through her mind. Holding onto her sword with a white-knuckled grip, she conceded to follow everyone else. She didn’t need to turn her head to know that Nikolai was nursing a very sensitive, recently relocated, purple-black jaw.
As Alice trudged down the corridor she felt a slight movement from the body she had slouched over her shoulder.
"Uhhhhhhhhh…" A slight moan tumbled from his bloody mouth as Darian once again awoke to the world of the living. "Alice, I think you can put me down."
After a moment’s hesitation, she removed the beaten fae and allowed him to stand on his own two feet. At first he faltered slightly, but he quickly composed himself enough to keep upright.
"What happened? Is everyone ok?" Wiping away the crimson liquid that was flowing from his forehead into his eyes he breathed a sigh of relief to see all his friends alive, although a little shaken up. "Ah, thank God."
"We are all fine, kid." Alice smiled once again, "You did good, fairy boy. Maybe you’ll get your wings now."
Tash gazed at the battered state of her friends and sent a signal to the damaged but still functional Monitor. It moved up silently behind the slowly moving group and she shivered as its luminous spots illuminated a group of Battle Fiends that were now standing dormant, where mere minutes before the creatures had been attempting to kill all of them.
She gestured over her shoulder at the Monitor. “Anyone who would rather ride, hop on. Nobody stays behind, for any reason.”
Victor smiled. Although no one could see it he felt like Tash could. He didn’t want to leave any of these friends who had become a part of his life - even if only for a few days in some cases - and he certainly didn’t want to leave Tash. He loved her and he knew that she loved him. But the love that bound them was not as strong as the destiny that bore him towards the Temple of Ghortab. And he desperately wished it were.
“I am sorry I tried to leave you behind, Tash. I felt it would be less risky if I went ahead and you all stayed behind. I still don’t feel like you should all risk yourselves for me.”
“Less risky? Are you kidding? You think Z’thrukaht would have just let us swan on back to the portal and go home?” Tash rounded on Victor, pulling him to a halt, “And what about your precious mission? You were stuck here, if you hadn’t noticed. Without all of us here you’d still be sitting there having your mind excavated by that Creator.”
Anger at being left behind, relief that Victor was ok and hurt that he’d even think about leaving her all mingled together to form a towering, righteous fury. “Goddam you, Victor! Stop being the fucking martyr for one second and think about what you’re trying to achieve here!”
Victor shook with rage. “I am not trying to achieve anything except getting out of this fucking mess! This whole episode in my long and so far reasonably successful life was not planned by me, you, or any of these people. It was pre-ordained by a god. My God. And worse yet my God is dead and all I have left to pray to is the sorry-assed successors to his legacy who are so busy trying to protect their own interests from the other gods that they aren’t willing to intercede on my behalf!”
Victor paused for a moment and tried to calm himself. He was angry and tired and felt as if this was far too big for him right now. He wanted a small life; a happy and prosperous set of years with Tash before he had to think about this shit. Instead he had to deal with Ghortab, Z’thrukaht, and the safety of these people.
“I love you and I want to make sure you…we can continue our lives.”
“And we shall – but you stand a much better chance if you stop pushing us away. We all stand a much better chance. You’re not doing us any favours by trying to go off alone, you know.” Tash sighed and stood on tiptoes to touch Victor’s cheek. “We wouldn’t have got this far without working together as a team. And that’s how we’ll finish it.”
The others stood quietly in the background, staying out of it. Though Nikolai couldn’t help muttering to himself, “I think Victor and the other Battle Fiends should just kill their gods. They are far too much trouble.”
It was hard to tell when you were talking about a nine-foot tall cockroach, but Victor was sulking. He was stuck back here and he was being bullied by both his wife and his gods to do something he did not want to do. Not that he could say anything about it, his wife outranked everyone.
There were miles of caverns and even with the help of the Monitor's illumination pods it was still dark and cramped. Victor finally just decided to lead the way letting Tash read his location through the Monitor and following his trail. Occasionally a Battle Fiend would wander out from a side tunnel and Tash expertly used the Monitor to send them off on wild goose chases. They were told to seek internal happiness in the farthest cavern or to scour the surface for an honest man. It wasn't that they presented any immediate danger but that she simply didn't want them following the small and partially injured group.
Victor thought back to the MoniTash - as she appeared to his perceptions - that the surface was near. The narrow valve that they had been following opened into a tunnel as wide as a subway station. The ribbed ceiling was dozens of yards overhead and it was hundreds of feet wide. The group walked quietly as Monitors as huge as houses glided overhead and Battle Fiends marched in columns twenty across out of the exit to the underground complex.
The dreary grey light of the G'rnathan afternoon made them squint like moles and gape at the spectacle of the place in which they found themselves. Arches of stone soared above the fog and glowed as they swallowed hordes of Battle Fiends and Monitors streaming into them. Caves regurgitated more and more of the creatures that milled in little eddies before heading off to their buyers' homes.
In the center of this stood the stark contrast of the Temple of Ghortab. Tash had seen it in her dreams, visions, and nightmares but those paled in the face of the real thing. Enormous slabs of milky white crystal that met at disturbing angles formed the main structure and spires of a shiny metallic substance jutted off at all angles. It looked like the white heart of the earth crowned in steely thorns.
Tash simply sat on the back of the Monitor and stared in awe. The huge structure dwarfed her imaginings of it, and the thousands of Battle Fiends milling about made her somewhat nervous, though - like all the others - they seemed to ignore this little group. The Monitor glided forward the last few feet to where Victor had paused and Tash looked down upon him.
"Pretty. But I don't see a door marked 'entrance'."
Darian followed Tash's gaze as he took in the whole majestic structure. “Well, we better find a way in,” he said while nursing his aching chest. “I can’t speak for you guys, but I don’t think I’m up for another fight just yet.” He turned to face Victor. "I don’t suppose you know how to get in without causing another ruckus?"
"OK. Victor, you take the millions on the left this time." Alice coughed up a little blood as she laughed.
Nikolai tried to laugh at that, then wound up rubbing his jaw in pain yet again. Did the relocation have to hurt so bloody much, or was he just fortunate?
Victor turned to face them. He pointed over his shoulder at the monolithic temple, "That is surrounded by hundreds of deviant Battle Fiends like myself. Some of them will still be susceptible to the control of the Monitors that are circling over their heads and dropping corrosives on them in an effort to destroy any chance of them escaping like I did. Once we get close it could be either very easy... or very, very hard to reach the Temple wall."
Tash rolled her eyes. "Way to encourage the troops, hon," she muttered, sotto vocé.
"Maybe, Tash," he answered her snide comment, "but I don't remember how I got in the first time. I can only hope that the temple somehow will remember this." Victor held up the Stone he had liberated from the temple the first time. It had begun to glow softly unnoticed, but now, displayed in front of the assembled friends, it seemed glaringly obvious.
“Oh great, the stone is glowing. Why do I have a feeling that’s never a good thing?" Darian commented as he eyed the slab of rock.
"What might ever give you that idea?" Nikolai asked softly, though still with plenty of sarcasm evident. "Just because the last time it glowed it tossed us to another world doesn't mean it'll be bad this time."
Victor jumped up to join the others on Monitor-back and Tash guided them swiftly towards the tower. The armies and formations around them seemed to move in orchestrated patterns that carefully avoided each other. Tash, by contrast, seemed to be sweating with the effort needed to keep the Monitor on an even keel. It jerked once or twice on a more or less straight line towards the Temple.
"There seem to be a lot of Creators that want to take control of this little guy," she said tightly. “I have been holding them off with a 'special mission' priority command but they are queuing up."
Victor stood at the front of the Monitor. "We are close now, we won't need it much longer," he said.
He turned to face Tash and mentally smiled at her. He doubted she had time to read it, and his insectile face didn't show it, but he wanted her to... Victor’s thoughts were interrupted when he tumbled off the front of the Monitor as it jerked to a stop.
“Shit!” Tash reached forward to grab the strap that held the Stone of Ghortab to Victor’s back in an attempt to arrest his fall. Of course, she’d completely forgotten that the slab weighed about 450 pounds, as did Victor himself. All she got for her trouble was a wrenched shoulder and grazed fingertips.
Nikolai wound up swearing again both rather vocally and aggressively at what happened. He managed to lose his grip on the Monitor at the last moment, and rolled over several times. Just to add insult to injury, his jaw connected with the ground again.
Tash watched helplessly as Nikolai joined Victor on the ground. She commanded the Monitor to move forward gently, but it fetched up against some form of resistance. “You know, I think we’ve hit the DMZ.”
Victor lay on his back like a turtle held by the Stone strapped to his back. He slipped the straps off his shoulders and rolled over to check on Nikolai. The man was conscious but his eyes were watering and his mouth was bloody. He waved a hand while he gasped for air.
Victor looked around him. The two of them were surrounded by Battle Fiends whose glowing red eyes were intently considering this odd couple that had dropped from the sky into their midst. Slowly the circle tightened around them and Victor grabbed the Stone to prevent being separated from it in the mob. He stood protectively over Nikolai and prepared to swing the Stone like a huge mace when he realized that the eyes of the mob weren't focused on him... but on the Stone.
He brandished the Stone before him and a path began to clear for him. He looked up at Tash's concerned face hovering twenty feet above. He tilted his head forward and lifted Nikolai to his feet and somewhat carried and mostly led him towards the temple.
Alice slid towards Tash. "Can you get this thing lower?"
Tash looked down at the tightly packed throng of Battle Fiends. “Well, technically yeah, but there’s nowhere to fit. I think we either travel up here or this is our station…” Once more she tried to command the Monitor to move forward, to follow Victor. But that resistance remained.
“Crap. I think this really is our stop.” Tash lowered herself gingerly over the side of the Monitor, not looking forward to the pain it would cause her slashed leg to drop that distance.
“Victor, wait up a minute. We’re a little stuck here,” she called over the heads of the eerily silent Battle Fiends.
He paused, Nikolai beside him, and turned backwards. The hundreds of Battle Fiends surrounding him gazed in awe at the brightly luminescent Stone, but kept their respectful distance. Tash, Alice, Reah and Darian slowly slid off the Monitor, helping each other down until all four stood on solid ground. It was somewhat intimidating, standing among the tall, silent fiends. Tash took one step towards her love, several dozen metres away, when a low whooshing sound caused her to look up.
A large Monitor, much larger than their own, swooped overhead towards the motionless group of Battle Fiends with Victor at the centre. Its belly gaped open and thick, orange slime gushed over the heads of the Battle Fiends. The first few in its path began to smoke and sizzle as the corrosive slime ate into their chitin.
Moving as one, dozens of the creatures dove onto Victor, and he and Nikolai disappeared from the view of their four watching friends under a tangle of carapaces and limbs. The corrosive continued to rain down, mere metres away from where the four unprotected people stood.
"Um... should we be moving, or attempting to help out, about now?" Reah questioned, staring at the sight before her, throwing an uneasy glance at the large Monitor above. "Let me rephrase that: CAN we, already? One of the two, I'm really not fussed."
Under the pile of partially souled Battle Fiends, Victor sheltered Nikolai from the crushing weight. He smelled more than saw the carnage that was happening on the outside of their protective shell. The load suddenly began to lighten as they rolled free of the pile-up and freed the precious Victor and Stone. Victor stood and threw a few of the less wounded fiends from his shoulders and surveyed the circle of half-dissolved carcasses and smouldering survivors who glared with burning eyes at Victor and his Stone.
Victor waved to his friends, "Run! We can't be caught in the middle of one of those attacks as a group! " He scanned the skies for approaching Monitors and not seeing any hefted the Stone on one shoulder and Nik on the other and started to jog towards the white stones.
"You know, when we get back to LA I think I’m just going to sit in a chair and not move for a week," Darian said as he began catching up to Victor. "Always with the running in this bloody dimension".
"Sit?" Reah's downcast eyes glinted behind their lashes, as she tossed him a sly grin over her shoulder, "Where's your sense of adventure?"
“I left it in my hotel with my keys," Alice jogged up beside Reah.
"It's my jaw that's busted, not my legs," Nikolai grumbled in frustration at Victor.
Tash smiled. At least while the others were grumbling, they couldn’t be too hurt. “Come on,” she yelled as she jogged to catch up with Victor, leaping over the bodies of the fallen Battle Fiends that had given their lives for her husband. She could see Nikolai protesting until Victor finally let him loose and allowed the man to run on his own two feet.
The Battle Fiends surrounding Victor stayed in continual motion, keeping the path before him clear, as though he were passing through a living tunnel. The four following behind had to struggle a little more to push past the press of bodies at the rear of the entourage. The group finally caught up just as Victor reached the gleaming white walls of the Temple of Ghortab. It was, quite simply, the most beautiful thing Tash had seen on this planet. Though that wasn’t too hard to achieve, she mused, recalling the blasted landscapes they’d passed through to reach this place.
Tash grasped Victor’s hand and he turned suddenly, perhaps not aware that she had drawn so close. She felt his love underscored by his duty. She had a strange feeling of uncertainty from him, and for the first time since they’d arrived on G’rnatha she realised that he had no more clue as to what would happen beyond these doors than any of them did. She squeezed his hand tightly.
“It’s ok,” she whispered. “It will be all right. The Stone will guide you.”
Victor’s Stone seemed to lighten as Victor had approached the Temple and he pulled it off his back intending to set it on the ground. But as he unslung the rock it hung in mid-air like some bizarre balloon. He puzzled at the Stone when Darian leaned against the Temple side, and slid into a space that appeared under his hand. He rolled clumsily through the opening and one of the surrounding fiends climbed into the rapidly closing hole behind him. Victor touched the wall and it opened for him as well. He pulled the Stone in with him and two fiends followed through the monster-sized gap that had admitted him. In mere moments all six of the travellers stood inside the Temple along with five hitchhiking Battle Fiends.
The interior of the hall was cavernous; it was shimmering with pale light that filtered through the translucent white stone. In long rows stones that were the companions to Victor's Stone floated above the dark basalt floor. Victor's Stone drifted slowly back to a space that it had once assumed 2000 years in the past. The silence of the temple was both intimidating and peaceful. They all stood reverently mute for long moments.
"It would seem that Darian has guided less inscrutably than the Stone, my love," Victor whispered.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Spencer Street Station - Melbourne
Wednesday the 26th July, 2006
22:34EST
Trent’s teeth chattered in the chill wind that threatened to turn his bones to ice. He was already hugging his ‘Melbourne Demons’ bomber jacket as close around him as he could, hunched over on a sitting bench just opposite the bus depot area, he prayed Quin would hurry up.
Eager to be out of the cold, his eyes darted desperately up and down the road. Occasionally a tram rolled by and every time he watched, in hope that the next one would be carrying her.
He was busy smirking between chatters at the current tram gliding swiftly along the tracks, with the advertisement caption “TRAM GOES BY - news as it happens”, that he failed to notice the yellow top cab that had pulled up just in front of him.
“Trent!”
“Huh? OH!” Trent jumped in surprise as a Quin suddenly jumped up, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her head against his chest. The initial shock lasted only momentarily; Trent then returning the hug with equal, if not greater, gratitude for his love.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered huskily into her hair as he continued to hold her. He never wanted to let go - Quin’s feelings appeared to reflect his own, her arms clinging about him like he was her last life line.
Over the past few months, and more evidently earlier in the week at school, he’d felt and noticed her grip on life slipping. It had pained him no end, watching as her once lively spirit faded slowly to the point of what he’d witnessed on Tuesday: something dead, masquerading about in her body.
*But she’s back now.* His lips and eyes were clenched tight. Afraid to lose her again, they fought against the tears that tried to surface.
After what seemed like a lifetime, but one arrived too soon, the couple parted slightly to gaze into each other's eyes. Quin’s glistened with fresh tears and Trent could feel a tickling at the bridge of his nose, threatening to glaze his own.
That was when realisation of the situations reality dawned on him. His heart sank before the first words could even escape Quin’s lips.
“Oh, Trent… I…” Her sorrowful tone begged for forgiveness, but Trent’s head was already shaking in denial.
“No!”
“Trent, I have to go! You don’t understand. I want to tell you everything, but I can’t!” Quin pleaded with Trent, praying he’d understand and let her go without her having to hurt him.
Trent’s arms dropped as he continued to stare at her in disbelief. He couldn’t bear to look at her beseeching eyes any more so he spun about, combing hands roughly through his hair. He took a couple of unsteady steps towards the bus stop before spinning back to face her. An evident trail of a single tear traced delicately down his cheek. “Why?”
He could see her heart tearing as she watched his display, her mouth working hard in attempt to answer his question, but would only result in her voice croaking around the heavy sobs that wracked her whole body.
With a sudden wave of guilt flooding over him, he rushed to sweep her up protectively into his arms. Stroking her hair he hushed gently in her ear, “I’m sorry, Quin. I just…” Trent bit back on his tongue before his voice managed to emotionally break on him.
“I can’t stay any longer!” Quin stated solemnly under the comfort of his soothing hands. She was past crying anymore. It was almost as though she’d cried all the tears she could, nothing left in reserve. “I don’t think I could handle it. Not without eventually taking an alternate form of escape.” Trent continued to hold her silently, listening regretfully to what she had to say, “At least this way… we may be able to see each other again?”
Trent sniffed, a cynical chuckle rolling in his throat, “I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” he sighed, “let alone believe what I’m about to do!”
Sliding his hands to her shoulders, he clasped them firmly and pulled apart from her. He didn’t even bother trying to mask his red eyes any more; instead he smiled tenderly, gazing alternately between her two eyes, marking their beauty for what he knew could very well be the last time he’d ever get to again.
“I love you, Quinala. More than words can say.” He shook his head, his smile disbelieving, yet genuine, “I can’t believe it! Bloody hell, I’m only eighteen: it‘s ridiculous! Yet it’s the strangest thing… it seems wrong that I should feel this way about someone, when I’m still only so young. And… shit, I feel like I should feel like a dick saying this… but I don’t.” He paused, blushing, feeling he’d said too much, *She probably thinks I’m some crazed, emotional ‘tard now.* Embarrassed, he turned his gaze to the ground with no intention of ever lifting it again.
Blushing herself, Quin smiled and stepped closer, swanning her neck to peer up at him from where he’d redirected his gaze. He smiled crookedly back at her and blinked, shedding a tear that caught Quin’s full attention. She watched it as it snaked over his cheek through the path created by its predecessors. Quirking her head as it trickled along his jaw, she captured it in a soft kiss and was greeted by its salty tang on the tip of her tongue.
She held her pose for a moment longer, leading him back to face her properly before pulling sadly away. “I love you too.”
Trent closed his eyes, savouring her kiss on his whiskery jaw. Tilting his head, he studied her enchanting features once again, raising a thumb to wipe away at her fresh tears, he then ran his hand back through her silky hair, sighing morosely, “I’m going to miss you, ya know.”
Quin nodded sadly in reply, biting her lips nervously, “I know.”
The pair stood there, gazing into each other's eyes and drawing out the moment. The taxi continued to wait patiently behind them as their fingers entwined slowly between each other's, toying at their sides. Quin’s mouth opened to speak, but she couldn’t find the words she had to say. She didn’t want to leave him, not like this.
Muttering curses at her family's ancestry, her head suddenly darted away spitefully, causing Trent to recoil slightly before he nudged her softly with the tip of his nose as if to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“I…” Quin began, regretfully pulling her hands free from his to retrieve something from her pocket, “I have something I need you to give to my parents.”
Trent sighed, his brow furrowing at what she produced in her hands. “A note?”
Quin nodded, “Please?” Trent accepted it from her, if somewhat apprehensively. “Thanks.”
Smiling up at her beloved, Quin leant on the tips of her toes, giving him a deep, longing kiss in a sad, unwelcomed farewell.
“I’ll never stop missing you.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 8th
LA harbor
5:30 am
Reintroducing Harrison Ford as Morris Giles.
Morris Giles watched the harbor in the dark predawn hour. He had just arrived from England in the elegant sailing ship behind him; “The Dawn Star” it read in the sleek prow. Morris chuckled, *It should be renamed “The Death Star”,* he thought as his face lost its vampire aspect and he licked a drop of blood from his lip.
Morris was tall and lean, forever frozen in his early fifties. He looked fit, though; his years of training as a Watcher had paid well. His hair was gray and he could be found handsome if it weren’t for the burn scars that were still visible on the left side of his face. Absently he stroked those remnants of his once human condition while he surveyed the horizon where the first rays of the coming sun were already lighting up the night. He wondered why nobody was there to pick him up.
He started walking towards the end of the docks. It would be day soon and he needed a place to hide. He couldn’t go back to the “Dawn Star”, the bodies would be discovered any time now. He had kept the captain alive to steer the ship while he fed on his family. Morris had relished in the man’s despair when he realized that Morris wasn’t going to spare anybody onboard, not even himself. He smiled, satisfied. Nothing was as relaxing as a good cruise...
He was getting nervous when a big black limousine with shaded windows stopped with a screech beside him. With a lopsided smile Morris bent to peer through the window as the crystal silently slid down.
“You took your time, didn’t you?” he growled to the vampire inside the vehicle.
The familiar face made a grimace and looked around nervously. “Shut up and get in,” he answered. “The Master’s waiting.”
“We better not keep him waiting, then,” Morris said as he got into the limo. He didn’t seem worried, though. What he had brought with him was worth waiting for.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Saturday 12th August, 2006 – 3am
A young boy, barely in his teens if that, crouched on the roof of a building and watched the scene unfolding before him. He drew his Lakers jacket tighter around his body, as if to ward off the cold. Fear showed on his face. Fear and some anger. It had been a long time since Deon had felt any need to be frightened, and it pissed him off. Mightily.
For three weeks he’d been searching for some clue as to the whereabouts of his ‘sister’, Tash. He’d been having such fun stringing her along, pretending to be the old Patrick with the aid of the enchanted pendant. He still wore it in the hope of running into her. But although he regularly checked Poplar Avenue and all her usual hunting grounds – nothing. And then this shit had started. The same shit he was observing before him once more, as though he was stuck in a time loop watching endless repeats of the same bad movie.
The Brotherhood was in town, and the followers Deon had been carefully drawing to him were now blowing in the wind for the most part. Showdown after showdown had resulted in his current position. Minionless, and wondering why he was still hanging about this city. It certainly wasn’t safe for him any more. But the thing that had drawn him here kept him here. A mere three Elders and one Ancient vampire weren’t enough to keep Deon from his appointed task of taking down his sister. If only he could find the bitch.
His attention was drawn back to the alleyway across the road. The group of fifteen or so vampires – mostly Black Veins by the look of them – had been herded into the cul-de-sac. They blustered and snarled, trying to summon the courage to retaliate against their attackers. But they sensed the power. The same power that made Deon shiver, although he was some distance away. He wasn’t willing to see how that power felt close up, for he knew it would not be friendly to him.
And, feeling that actinic tingle of force, the vampires remained cowed. Beaten before they’d even had a chance to fight back. The handful of vampires that herded the captives stood guard, watching that none tried to escape the fate that awaited them. Then he arrived.
He wore his power about him like a cloak, pushing it out so that all who felt it brush by them trembled with the majesty of it. The giant figure strode towards the Black Veins, feeling the thrill of excitement their fear engendered in him. He licked his lips, letting his fangs show, then he flung his arms out wide and bellowed.
“So, your craven leader has deserted you. Where is she now, I wonder? Skulking about in some hole, I daresay, or perhaps she has tucked tail and run.” He leered at the vampires shrinking against the wall that prevented their escape. Dathan’s minions cackled at their master’s words, strutting about the narrow alleyway, basking in his reflected magnificence.
Dathan surveyed the sorry group before him and felt a twinge of frustration. He had hoped that the Black Veins would provide some sport for him, so he had eagerly taken on the task of cleaning up that particular cesspit of vampiredom. But so far they had proved disappointing. This was the first time he had managed to gather more than a small handful in one place, and the remnants of that once-mighty gang seemed far from the stalwart die-hards Dathan thought they might be. Instead, they looked to be the most pathetic dregs.
He gestured to his minions to withdraw. “Go, I have no more need of you.” They looked to their master with evident disappointment etched in their bestial features. “I said GO!” Dathan roared, at which the half-dozen bowed and departed.
Some of the captives looked about them, wondering if there was a chance to escape now, but Dathan advanced, holding them with his flashing dark eyes. “Now,” he rumbled, attempting to sound accommodating, “it is fifteen to one. Fair odds, don’t you think? I will take you all on at once.”
From his corner where he huddled in a small ball, desperately hoping that the Ancient would overlook him, Deon watched in silent awe at the carnage that ensued.
Dathan laughed mirthlessly as he tore heads away from necks and slashed open throats with his fangs. The number of his opponents had already halved when his form wavered into that of a giant bat. It swooped over the heads of the terrified Black Veins, talons thrusting into eye sockets, blinding his victims. The bat settled on the shoulder of one hapless vampire, who swiped uselessly at the enormous creature before its fangs bit into his neck and drained the blood from him in moments. The weakened vampire fell to the ground, unable to defend himself as the bat wrapped its strange, long tail around his neck and jerked, reducing the undead being to mere dust when the head popped off with a disturbingly wet sucking noise.
Now only four remained. Two of them clutched at their ruined eyes, blood streaming through their fingers. The other two so far only bore a scratch or two, but their spirits were well and truly broken. One, a female with bedraggled blonde hair, whimpered quietly, repeating softly, “No, no, it can’t be happening.”
The bat reformed into the imposing figure of Dathan again, who held out his arms to encompass the four who remained. He smiled, a menacing expression to the two who could see him. He cocked his head at the two blinded vampires and said, “Well, you’re no good any more, are you?” He reached out, almost tenderly, and grasped the head of the first. Placing his meaty paws either side Dathan squeezed effortlessly, popping the vampire’s skull as though it were nothing more than a grape, and dusted his hands free of the grit that resulted. The second soon followed.
“Now,” he smiled affably at the two survivors, “Let’s talk again about your spineless leader. Which stinking hole has she run down? You two have lasted well – maybe I can find a use for you.” His voice changed from pleasant to threatening, “But not if you displease me. Answer, or you shall feel my wrath!”
“Oh, I dunno. I don’t think I’m so spineless.”
Deon thought silently at the figure that appeared behind Dathan. *No, don’t be a fool. You can’t take him on. Run!*
In the alley, Dathan bared his fangs and turned. “Ah, the estimable Black Jem. I’ve heard so much more about you than I ever wanted to know.”
His arm shot out and the Black Vein that tried to rush him was sent sprawling. “Down, pathetic weakling! You think you can take me by surprise?”
Jem’s voice barely wavered as she said, “Funny, that was my plan.”
The whoosh echoed loudly in the semi-enclosed space. A long tongue of flame spurted from the weapon that the leader of the Black Veins held in her hands. Her two surviving lackeys screamed with the pain as they were caught in the fire and burned like torches before they dissipated into piles of dust. Jem figured the sacrifice was worth it. She grinned in triumph when she saw Dathan’s nearly seven-foot frame dissolve into a pillar of smoke. “Yeah, gotcha you bastard!”
The grin soon turned to a grimace of terror, however, when that column suddenly appeared beside her and resumed the solidity of Dathan’s body. He wrenched the flame-thrower from the startled vampire’s hands and leaned over her.
“I don’t think so,” he growled.
The last thing that went through Jem’s mind as Dathan ripped her body in two was, *Shit! Nobody told me he could fucking teleport!*
Guest starring Antonio Banderas as Dathan, Cirroc Lofton as Deon and Shakira as Black Jem.
The FF Get Ready
*** Monday, August 14, 2006, early evening ***
Nicholas studied the array of objects before him on the table in the dimly lit room. He was mentally reviewing all the required components for the ritual to come. In a few short days, all of the planning, all the years of searching would finally come to fruition. After decades of discussing it, he and his “brothers” would finally share in that power that until now had been the exclusive domain of the Slayer, increasing their own power immensely. Before long, everyone would be worshipping at the feet of Vampire gods, all species would acknowledge the power they possessed, and Nicholas would be their “high priest”. He would be the leader of a new religion, bound in blood, darkness and ultimate power.
The others didn’t understand. They thought he was weak for wanting to serve a god, rather than be a god. Nicholas knew better. It didn’t matter who the god was, the real power lie in the hands of those who served him. Gods were no more than figureheads in this world. Even living gods had limitations. But priests, acolytes, these were men of unquestionable power throughout the ages. Nicholas basked in that power. He didn’t want the responsibility of living up to the expectations of worshippers. He just wanted the adulation they were willing to pour out so that the gods would be appeased.
There was another aspect of his position that the other Elders he’d known didn’t comprehend. Valerian was so caught up in earthly pleasures. Dathan adored violence, the purity of pain. Krispin schemed, dreaming up ways to torment millions. But Nicholas, oh Nicholas knew a truer, greater power. Nicholas saw the purity, the spiritual completion of evil as an end unto itself. He was high priest of a pure, sweet wickedness. It had served him in the past to promote one or more of his brothers as a god to unsuspecting mortals, because in doing so he was able to draw the power of that worship without having to carry the burden of it. Dathan was always the easiest to manipulate in this way.
As he prepared for the coming ritual, Nicholas considered the very nature of power. The power he had known in the past would pale in comparison to that which The Brotherhood was about to usurp. The line of The Slayer was pure, unadulterated power at its core, and soon Nicholas and his “brothers” would share in that power. Nicholas imagined that turning such a power for good to the purposes of evil would be like a spiritual rebirth for the world as a whole. Only the most worthy would survive this cleansing to form a congregation worthy of the gods they were to become.
Nicholas relished the ceremony, the trappings of a ritual like this. All the intricate details reminded him of his youth in the temple of the sun god. As he cleansed and purified the instruments of the ritual, anticipation boiled within him. In four short days, the time would be at hand. Nicholas finished his preparations, setting the chalice, the athame, the scroll, and the shroud inside the locked box for safekeeping. When he was done, he went in search of his brothers so they could begin their cleansing. From below, where the girl was chained, Nicholas could hear angry cries echoing. He laughed softly. Soon, those cries would cease, and The Brotherhood would rise, reborn in power.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Saturday August 12th
10:00 am
Alessa felt the salty wind in her face as they took a turn and saw the ocean in front of them. The day was beautiful, and the road was deserted. Ernie’s house stood up in front of them, lonely against the tableau of the ocean and the bright morning’s sky. She hugged Chance a little stronger and pointed towards the entrance way. Without talking Chance nodded and entered the private lane.
They got to the wide driveway in front of the garages. Chance looked around, awed at the grandiosity of the house. Big white columns stood three stories tall in front of them, and a great double door lay closed in front of them. The house looked stern and unwelcoming from the front, but Alessa knew that its back part, facing the ocean, was charming.
Seeing that Chance was delaying, watching around, she laughed and pulled him from a sleeve, “Don’t worry, nobody is going to eat you here either!” she said as she guided him towards the big doors that were already opening.
Ernie’s butler stood at the doors, silent as ever. She had never heard him utter a word if he was not addressed before. “Hello, I believe Ernie’s waiting us.” she said as the butler just moved aside to let them enter.
Chance whistled as they entered, smiling at both the fact that it actually echoed and made Alessa grin. He had stopped letting that surprise him some time ago. Stopped marveling at the fact she was a demon and yet that didn’t bother him. Quite the opposite, sometimes he found it quite….Chance searched for a word that would fit. The only think he could think of was ‘exotic’ but that wasn’t quite right. *Enticing, perhaps?* He wasn’t really sure and let the thought pass.
The serious butler guided them towards the balcony where Ernie was waiting for them. Alessa almost run to hug her friend, and Ernie hugged her back, as delighted as she was. She then turned around and signaled Chance to come into the balcony.
“Ernie, this is Chance, the one I talked to you about. I thought that since he’s investigating on the Elders himself he should be here.” The old man didn’t look very happy of her bringing Chance to his house, as Alessa knew he would be. But he greeted him courteously and guided them both toward the table. A lot of old books lay in disarray over it. Obviously Ernie had been researching as he had promised her.
Chance cocked his eyebrow at the sight of them. “Books.” He breathed, voice full of scepticism. In his opinion, all those books can’t be good. Books usually led to spells and magic, which he trusted about as much as he would a vampire.
“Did you bring the diary?” Ernie asked as he sat down tiredly. She looked back at his friend’s face as she nodded and started to take the wrapped diary from her backpack. *he surely looks tired* she thought. He had dark spots under his eyes and he looked pale beneath his tan.
“Been researching?” she asked and threw a daggers look to Chance, her keen demon ears had listened to his groan, even if Ernie hadn't.
“Yes.” he answered, “and Dathan is definitely in LA. along with Nicholas, Krispin and Valerian.”
Now Chance was interested. He leaned forward, serious now. “All four of them….here? You sure?” Ernie nodded gravely and he cursed. “If two wasn’t bad enough…four…” Trailing off, he turned to Alessa. “Fancy a holiday?”
Before she could reply the Watcher cut in. “This is no time for jokes. If the Brotherhood are here in full strength, it must be for a reason.” He waved at the pile of books. “According to my research, they haven’t been together since the end of the nineteenth century.”
Seriously Alessa unwrapped the diary as she thought of the implicancies of what Ernie had just told them. *The four Elders here in LA!* She couldn’t prevent a shudder as she gave the diary to Ernie. The old man’s hands trembled a little as he took his late friend’s diary. The leather bounded tome was in good shape in spite of his age.
“Let’s hope there is something here that can help us. Morris research was very thorough… I read it again since we talked the last time, it has lots of data about the vampire… but…” Alessa stopped, not being able to find the words.
“But?” asked the Watcher as he started going through the pages.
“Well, I couldn’t read the last part. It looks like Latin, and I can read Latin but… well I just can’t read it. “ She said with exasperation.
Both Chance and Ernie looked at her, puzzled. “And you said you cant read… “this” Latin?” asked Chance, echoing Ernie’s unspoken words. His face showing amazement. “That sounds like some kind of spell to me.” he stated shaking his head. *Spells, I knew it would come to that!*
Going to the last part of the diary, Ernie started reading it himself. It wasn’t long before he raised his eyes in confusion, “I can see it’s Latin, I can read it… but somehow the words don’t echo in my head. It’s like if the connection’s… broken!”
Alessa brighted, she had been worried it was only her. “Exactly, it was like reading… I don’t know… Japanese!”
“A spell.” stated Chance again and Ernie nodded at him.
“Of course it is a spell, and if Morris thought he should protect these last pages with one it means that there is something important here.” He smiled at Alessa, “We might have found something!”
Alessa grinned back, and looked at Chance’s face, who was nodding as well. The man sensed her stare and smiled at her. As usual, Alessa felt mesmerized by his blue gaze, with an effort she let herself loose of his stare.
“Do you think you can break the spell?” asked Alessa. “Although it may be a very powerful one, Morris was good with magic…”
“Yes, he was indeed. And it’s not my thing, really, but I can try. If I can’t break it we will have to ask for help. This is too important to let go.”
“Yep,” said Chance, “although it could be a cooking recipe for all we know… “ he joked, and got a punch in the ribs from Alessa. ”Hey, that hurt.” he said, touching his side and making a face at her. She laughed in response.
Ernie watched the exchange with interest. He hadn't seen Alessa this way in a long, long time. Since she had been with Morris, actually. He thought, and smiled, remembering the three of them more than 40 years ago. This man could be good for her, he thought, and it didn’t really look like he resented her being half a demon.
He smiled at them, “Ok, I’ll keep this if you don’t mind Alessandra, I’ll try breaking the spell or whatever Morris put on here, and I’ll call you in a few days, Ok?”
“I’m guessing that’s our cue to leave, then?” Chance said non-diplomatically and ignoring Alessa’s scowl.
“If you wouldn’t mind…I want to get cracking on this diary and I’ll need to concentrate.” Ernie replied, remaining impassive. “It has been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Chance. And you too, Alessandra, as always.”
“Just Chance is fine. You find anything in there that points to why the Brotherhood is here or how to stop them; call us.” Ernie nodded. “Well, then. I guess we’ll be off.”
Alessa leaned over to hug her friend in good bye while Chance retreated towards the house. “Very interesting choice of friends you have, my girl.” he said, but when Alessa watched him more closely she could see that his eyes were smiling. She grinned in response.
“Indeed he is. Good bye Ernie, I’ll be waiting for your call.” she said, and followed the butler and Chance out of the house. As she crossed the hallway she heard an exclamation, startled, she looked up to see Andrea Longwood on top of the stairs. She was staring at them with a strange face. Alessa started to wave a greeting when the woman turned around and entered a room. Shrugging Alessa left the dark hall into the brilliance of the sun outside.
They paused outside, near Chance’s bike. Alessa smiled at the memory of returning it to him, of how he reminded her of a kid at Christmas and how grateful he was for finding it.. She made towards it, but he was standing behind her, gazing out across the beach. Turning back she stood next to him to also admire the view.
“Y’know what.” He said suddenly, almost making Alessa jump. “I’ve been cooped up for too long.” Indeed, Chance hadn’t set foot out of her place in a long time during his recuperation and out of fear of retribution. But now…”And now I am out, I don’t feel like going back again just yet.” He turned to her with his cocky half smile. “I’m thinking ‘beach day?’”
“A beach day? But, but… I didn’t bring a swimming suit!” she protested, but at the look in his eyes, she dismissed it with a shrug, “Ok, that really sounds cool.” she said and she reveled in his expression. He really looked handsome when he smiled like that.
She jumped on the bike behind him and they set off to the beach that lay before them. A narrow winding road took them to a deserted cove. Chance set the bike under a palm tree and followed her to the water.
Taking off her boots, Alessa dipped her feet in the water. She hadn't been at the beach in a long time either, she thought as she curled her fingers into the wet sand. She saw Chance coming her way and warned. “NO splashing!”
But he was already splashing her. “NO!” she shouted. “I don’t have anything to put on!” Stop it Chance! STOP IT!” But he didn’t stop and he was laughing at her. Laughing back, Alessa shoved him with enough force to throw him backwards into the water.
It was her time to laugh when he saw him emerge from the surf, sputtering and soaking wet. Well she wasn’t better, but no way she would disrobe in front of him, she thought as she swam away from him.
Some time later, laughing and still playing they got out of the water. Alessa’s clothes clung to her body and she looked around searching for a place to sit down. Sand on wet clothes could be uncomfortable as hell.
“Wait a minute” said Chance as he noticed her discomfort. And run towards the group of palm trees where her bike was. He returned with two big palm leaves, and presented them to her with a bow. “Here you have, fair damsel in distress.”
Laughing, Alessa sat on one of them, wrinkling her dark hair out of the excess of water. She took off her blouse too, she was decent enough without it after all, and extended it on the sand besides her to dry it. Then laid down, eyes closed, to enjoy the sun on her face.
Chance watched her a minute, then laid down too, bare-chested. The sun on his body was warm and had him dry in minutes. He smiled and felt peaceful. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt in some time and he enjoyed it.
Somewhere down inside he knew he shouldn’t be so relaxed, that the Elder business should be worrying him more. But somehow, just being around Alessa made all that go away. He forgot it all and could just enjoy their time together.
Even, if he tried, he could ignore the constant voice that screamed at him to continue the vengeance he had sworn to exact all those years ago. Not for long though.
News of trouble brewin in LaLa Land
*** Friday, August 11, 2006, around 2 pm ***
Amanda stood behind the counter chatting amiably with a young man about Astrophysics. She was smiling brightly. She failed to notice that the young man was blushing bright red and looked about ready to propose marriage. Drew didn’t. He fought down his jealousy, aware that his reaction was partially colored by the events of last fall. He couldn’t help but sometimes think of what had happened. For Drew, those months after he’d walked in on Amanda and Ryan had been some of the darkest of his life. Finally, though, after a long struggle he’d learned that he loved this woman enough to put that all behind him… mostly.
Part of the problem was that Amanda was so blissfully unaware of the effect she sometimes had on men, especially some of the awkward and impressionable college guys who hung out at the shop. Drew couldn’t keep track of the number of times he’d walked into The Bibliophile and been greeted by a scene like this one before him now. It was always the same; Amanda making friendly, amiable chit chat with some besotted adolescent. She was so outgoing, so full of life, and people were drawn to her. Drew knew that was just Amanda’s nature and he had to remind himself of that when jealousy reared its ugly head. Still, he was getting better. He managed to coach his expression to something less than threatening as he came up to the counter, although he didn’t hesitate to wrap a possessive arm around Amanda as she smiled up at him.
“Uh… well… thanks, Ms. Blaise,” the young man Amanda had been speaking to became even redder under Drew’s gaze. “I appreciate your help, and thanks for this too.” He gestured to the book sitting open between them on the counter.
“You’re welcome, Bradley,” Daye replied. “Good luck with that paper. I’m sure it will come out great.”
Bradley nodded, swallowing convulsively as he glanced at Drew. His look spoke volumes. *Sorry for ogling your girl, Sir,* Drew thought, chuckling inside. This kid was so uncomfortable. It kind of felt good.
Bradley mumbled a goodbye and left Drew and Amanda alone at the counter. Drew watched him go, a self satisfied smile on his face. He continued to grin until he noticed Amanda watching him with an annoyed expression on her face.
“What?” Drew asked, the picture of innocence.
“Why do you have to make them all so… so… uncomfortable?” Daye asked.
Drew shrugged. “If they weren’t all in here trying to score with you, then maybe my presence wouldn’t make them all feel so guilty,” he said gruffly.
Daye grimaced. Drew had never been like this before Ryan. She hated that he still had such insecurities, but she couldn’t blame him for them. And he was trying, he really was.
“Well, no matter what they’re trying to do, you don’t have to come in here and ‘mark your territory’, you know,” Daye said, turning in his arms and cuddling close. “There’s only one intellectual giant around here that I’m interested in.”
Drew grinned. He bent to catch Amanda’s mouth in a lingering kiss.
“Hmmph,” Alicia cleared her throat loudly as she came up behind the couple. She shot them a disapproving look when they broke apart to smile sheepishly at her. Inside she was rejoicing. After everything that had happened in October, she had doubted that these two young people would ever get past their difficulties. It was good to see them so happy.
“Sorry,” Daye said contritely.
“This is a place of business,” Alicia warned, but her eyes were twinkling with merriment. Ever since the Mariah affair, Daye had noticed the other woman was warmer, more open with her. “In any case,” Alicia continued, “I wanted to tell you there’s a call for you in your office. It’s the… home office, and I think it’s important.”
Daye sighed. She glanced up at Drew, who shrugged. “Let’s go see what they want,” he suggested.
Daye nodded, offering him an apologetic smile, and then headed for her office with Drew following close behind. Once they were inside, Drew shut the door behind them while Daye plopped into her chair and picked up the phone. He watched as she listened to whatever the caller from the Watchers' Council had to say, noting that her expression grew more and more concerned. Finally she replaced the receiver in its cradle, but she didn’t speak for several minutes. She was obviously considering whatever news she’d just received.
“What?” Drew couldn’t stand it any longer. “What’s going on? What is it? Another ex bent on your destruction? Witches planning a hostile take-over of Disneyland? What? Tell me.”
Daye mentally shook herself. “Sorry, baby,” she said, rising from her chair and moving over to where he had dropped himself onto the sofa in her office. “I was just trying to figure out what to do next.”
“So,” he prompted, “what did they have to say?”
“A lot,” Daye said. “It seems there’s a group of nasty vamps in town, first of all, and someone I know is on the outs with his employers, and basically the Council wants me to take a 'wait and see' approach to all of it.”
Drew sighed. “Of course, you’re not going to follow that advice, are you?”
Daye grinned down at him. “It’s so great that you totally get me, you know?”
Drew just shook his head ruefully.
“No, I’m not going to sit around while a group of evil vampires plans Goddess knows what for the city, or the world even,” she said. “I’m going to make some calls, or visits if necessary, and ‘get the band back together’. Sorry, hon, but there may be yet another apocalypse in the offing.”
Drew stood, shrugging. “So, what’s new? Let’s get started.”
Daye laughed softly, going back over to the desk. She’d call Kate and fill her in, and then try again to get a hold of Tash, although the woman had yet to return any of the calls Daye had made to her over the last couple of weeks. It might be time to pay Poplar Avenue a visit. If she couldn’t get into contact with everyone this afternoon, Daye and Drew would undoubtedly walk over there later.
Something Missing
Friday, 11th August 2006
Poplar Avenue
5:00pm
The brownstone was quiet when Daye and Drew approached it. There was no sign of anyone around the front. They quickly made their way inside and Daye paused as they passed through the threshold. She realised it had been over a year since she'd last stepped into this lobby. A lot could happen in a year.
Drew led Daye away from the doorway and that's when she spotted Kate standing by the stairs. She hurried over to her friend. Daye was so glad to see Kate after such a long time, that she drew the other woman immediately into a warm embrace.
Kate smiled widely upon seeing Daye again, and hugged her warmly. It was the first time she had seen her since the night on the pier. “Oh Daye! You look wonderful,” she gushed as they parted, “and Drew, it’s great to see you too.”
Drew blushed. He realised the last time he'd seen Kate he'd been sort of a jerk. "Yeah, Kate, uhm, hi," he said. "You look good. Uhm, how's Galen, and... the baby?"
Kate couldn't help but sense the tension in Drew's voice but she was too happy to be reunited with her friends to let a few harsh words spoken in the heat of the moment last year put a dampener on things.
"Both doing very well," she smiled. "Emma, well Emma's an angel, she really is and, well Galen and I, we got married about a month ago in Vegas." Kate almost burst out laughing as the last piece of news departed her lips. She was still as surprised as anyone about how quickly they had arranged things.
Daye's eyebrows shot up at the news. Then she squealed like a schoolgirl. "Married?!" she took both of Kate's hands in her own. "Oh, wow. That's so great. You got married. I can't believe it. That's so... so... perfect!"
Drew studied Daye's reaction to her friend's news. On the one hand, he was stunned. Marriage seemed like such a normal thing to do, and Kate was so not a normal girl. Galen, however, was a normal guy. Now they were a family. Drew thought about his own little family, the one he and Daye had made. Some people might think it was strange, what with Maia and Sam in the mix, but Drew was happy. He was happier than he'd ever realized he could be. But marriage. That was something else... something to think about.
"Congratulations, Kate," Drew murmured, watching Daye covertly.
Kate smiled back at Drew, noticing his slight glances towards Daye as the woman held her hand admiring the simple wedding band it held.
"I wish all my friends could have been there but it was a real 'spur-of-the-moment' decision. I didn't know Galen was going to ask me and then when he did I just couldn't wait..." Kate suddenly realised she was babbling and so cut herself short. "In the end I guess the only two people who mattered were there."
She smiled again and looked at her two friends. She had experienced so much happiness in the last six months all she wanted was the same for the couple who stood in front of her.
"How is Maia?"
Drew beamed, he couldn't help himself. "She's... amazing," he replied. "She's so smart, and so beautiful. She's the best baby in the world... uhm, no offence."
Daye laughed at Drew's response. She was so proud of him, and of Maia. Drew felt like the little girl's father, and Daye wouldn't have it any other way.
"She's a handful is what she is," Daye added. "She's started walking now and she's into everything. She's going to give poor Sam prematurely grey hair. It's good to see you, Kate, but maybe we should go on up and find Tash and Victor," Daye said. "Then we can all share these stories together."
Kate raised an eyebrow in amusement. "That's if we can find them. I've been trying to get a hold of Tash since I got back from Vegas and no luck so far."
Daye shrugged. "I've been trying for a couple of weeks myself. With any luck they just went on their honeymoon or something."
Drew snorted. "Unlikely, knowing the luck you all usually have. It's more likely they were eaten by some toilet dwelling slime demon bent on overtaking the international finance markets."
Kate looked even more shocked, but not by Drew's flippant remark. "Their honeymoon?" she asked with surprise, "Don't tell me they finally became members of the 'I do' club too!?"
"I'm guessing they probably took the plunge by now," Daye replied. "I'm not positive. If I ever get around to marrying this one, I'll be sure to invite you all, though. Promise."
Drew growled, "If you ever get around to..."
Daye giggled and turned around to give him a light kiss on the mouth. Then she started up the stairs. "Let's go see what we can see," she suggested.
Kate tagged on behind Daye and Drew as the trio made their way up to the second floor. Outside apartment 205 they stopped, Daye giving a good hard knock on the door. There was no answer from within. Kate looked around the corridor; nothing appeared any different since her visit almost a week ago.
Drew apparently thought that Daye's knocking skills were inadequate because minutes later he was pounding his fist against the door too.
"I doubt either Tash or Victor have become medically deaf, Drew," Kate commented as he continued to pound on the door. Closing her eyes she reached out with her mind beyond the barrier of the door and the apartment walls. After a few seconds she opened her eyes and sighed. "Just like before, the lights aren't on and nobody's home."
"I think maybe we should try and go in," Daye said. She could see her companions were hesitant. "I just think maybe something is wrong. I'd feel better if we checked."
Kate looked reluctant at first. After all, she didn't want to have explain to the police why she simply had to break into her friends' apartment to see if they were okay - "Well there's group of seriously nasty vampires on the loose and we wanted to be sure they were all right, officer." - not to mention that the officer in question would more than likely be her husband.
Kate held her hand over the door lock, feeling a slight tingle between her fingers and she felt the telekinetic energies coming alive between her flesh and the inanimate object. In less than a few seconds there was an audible 'click' as the locking system rotated and the door swung open.
Daye shrugged and peered around the doorframe into the apartment. "Tash? Victor? Anybody home?"
She turned back to Kate, grinning wickedly. "I really hope they didn't just decide to hole up in bed for a week or two. Tash and Victor bumping uglies is not something I need to see."
Kate giggled as the three entered the apartment and began looking around. Kate walked over to the telephone where the little red light on the answering machine was blinking wildly. She pressed the button and waited.
"You have twenty-five messages," the recorded voice reported.
Kate raised an eyebrow in surprise as she let the tape play while continuing to look around the room. There were half empty cups still left on the kitchen table and chairs moved out of place like someone had left suddenly.
"Hmm," said Kate, running a finger over the table's surface, leaving a trail in the dusty covering. "Looks like someone left in a hurry. No one's been here in weeks by the look of it."
Daye walked slowly around the apartment, nodding. She poked her head in the bedroom, and stopped next to the open weapons trunk in the living room. She stooped down and sifted through the weapons inside. Kate was right. This felt like someone had taken off in a hurry.
Sighing, Daye stood and turned around slowly. There was something else. There was something she was missing, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what.
"This doesn't feel right," Drew said. "It's creepy. It's like they got a sudden call from God and had to vacate the premises without leaving a forwarding address, you know?"
"It's creepy all right" echoed Kate as she knelt down by the weapons trunk that Daye had been examining. "Either Tash got slack in replenishing her weapons, which is unlikely, or she left here armed to the teeth."
Kate stood up again, mirroring Daye's poise, she too felt the absence of some unknown substance, more than just the occupants. "What are we missing? Why would Tash and Victor just leave without warning?" Kate turned to Daye, "Do you think it has something to do with the Brotherhood?"
Daye sighed again. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe. Do you sense anything? Did something... bad happen here?"
"Well, not vampire bad if that's the kind of bad that you're referring to." Kate sighed in frustration, "I don't know. I mean, Tash left this message with Jack about there being some kind of emergency but she never said what it was. Now if that was the last time anyone heard anything from her then they've been missing for well over a month now."
Kate closed her eyes tightly; she couldn't help but feel guilty if something had happened to her friends then she'd been too busy in her own life to even notice!
"You don't think they would have done something stupid, do you? Like tried to take on the Brotherhood on their own?"
Daye bit her lip. She could see that Kate felt as bad about this as she did. Had they gone off on their own? Had they given up on them when Daye and the others had failed to respond? Daye felt a wash of guilt. She had been too busy with her own life and her friends may well be suffering somewhere because of it.
"Honey, can't you... well, see what happened here?" Drew asked. "You know, like you saw those past events in the castle."
Daye turned to Drew, surprised at the question, and angry at herself for not thinking of it. After their first trip to Ireland she had come home with the ability to sometimes delve into the past events of a place. Somehow, with all the madness of the last year, she'd forgotten about that.
"It's been a very long time since I worked on that," Daye said. "I could try."
Kate took a seat on one of the couches as Daye sat down and closed her eyes in concentration. She felt wary herself. Normally she could pick up a sense of the emotions that had passed in a place if she really tried but right now she was drawing a blank. It was as though something were blocking her getting a clear reading. She was getting more static than a cheap TV.
Daye sat on the couch and crossed her legs beneath her. She let her arms fall to her sides and closed her eyes, drawing in slow, even breaths. It had been ages since she'd tried to do this. She wasn't sure it would even work. Mentally she sighed, realizing this neglect of her abilities was yet another thing to lay at the feet of Mariah and Ryan. Subsequently, if she couldn't find Tash and Victor, that was in a way Ryan's fault as well.
Daye intentionally shoved all thoughts of failure from her mind and concentrated on the task at hand. She focused on the room she was in, the energy and impressions all around her. Daye noticed immediately the buzz of energy, an energy she didn't recognize, which reverberated in the room around her. The energy was like background noise, and it made it nearly impossible to focus on the impressions she was seeking. After a few minutes, the best Daye could come up with was that the people in the room had left in a hurry, that they were surprised and that they were very concerned. With an audible sigh, Daye opened her eyes and turned to Kate.
From the dejected look on her face Kate could tell that Daye'd had as much luck as herself in picking up any sense of what had passed in the apartment.
"This is ridiculous," she said in annoyance, rising to her feet. "They can't have just vanished off the face of the earth!"
Daye stood up as well. She was frustrated too. "I don't know what to say," she replied. "I can't get a good reading of the apartment. Something big happened here, but I don't know what. I just get the impression that whoever was here left in a hurry. Something happened that they weren't expecting and they rushed out of here, and whatever it was that surprised them, they were pretty worried about it. I can't even tell you for sure that we're talking about Tash and Victor, but I think so."
Kate frowned. It was obvious they were getting nowhere fast. "Well, we aren't going to solve this puzzle just standing here. Why don't we split up and see if we can find anything out from the locals? I'm sure someone must have seen something." Inwardly Kate cringed at the thought of having to talk to Bob again - that was one experience she sincerely didn't want to repeat.
Daye nodded. "Yes, I suppose you're right," she said. "I'll try some of my other channels as well. If something big is going down, then perhaps the Council has some word of it. They didn't give me any information earlier, but that doesn't mean anything. Sometimes it's like pulling teeth to get anything from them." Daye laughed bitterly. "One might suspect that my own organization doesn't actually trust me."
Drew moved to her side and took her hand. "Well, Kate, we should get going. I'm sure you need to get home too."
"I'll call you in a day or two," Daye added. "Unless you come up with something sooner. Then you call me, okay?"
Kate nodded. She still felt bad inside that while god knows what had been happening to her friends she'd hardly had time to notice. The three friends left the apartment, making sure to re-lock the door on the way out as they made their way out of the building.
Before going their separate ways Kate turned to Daye and Drew. "Take care you two, and if I don’t hear from you in a few days,” she laughed lightly in an attempt to ease the severity of the mood, “I’ll assume you’ve been dragged into an alternate dimension!”
once upon a time there was a bunny part 2
*** Spring, 1999 ***
Ambrose Delancre strode into his office, his movement purposeful. Seated before his desk was one of his best operatives, a man named Gabriel Espinoza. Field Agent Espinoza had served the Watchers' Council for over fifteen years. He was a strong, capable man in his early forties, and for almost a decade he had worked tirelessly to try and contain the supernatural threats of this world. Five years ago, however, his goals and methods had undergone a radical realignment. That was when he first met then Senior Field Specialist Ambrose Delancre. Delancre had a unique vision, one which Gabriel was persuaded to share in. Together they worked to empower man and demon alike, by removing the weakness in all species. They believed in the possibility of ending the conflicts between humanity and the other species on Earth. To do so, though, there were sacrifices that had to be made.
“Gabriel,” Ambrose dropped into his chair, and opened the box on his desk, drawing out a pair of expensive cigars. “I’m glad to see you. I assume you have something to report on the subject we discussed before you left here.”
Gabriel nodded, placing a manila folder on the desk. “This is everything I could find,” he said. “You were right. This is one powerful little lady. She’d be an excellent choice, Ambrose.”
Ambrose opened the folder and began to go through its contents. There were reports and photographs, all pertaining to a demon of unknown origin that had plagued the council relentlessly over 700 years ago. The demon was one of Ambrose’s special projects. She had killed Watchers efficiently and effectively. He was interested in harnessing her power and ability for his own use. This demon would make a fine addition to his army. The trick of course, was finding her. The pictures in this file proved that Gabriel had done just that.
“So, now we recruit her, huh, boss?” Gabriel asked.
Ambrose nodded. “That’s your next assignment,” he said.
Gabriel chuckled, taking the folder back and rising from his chair. “Not a bad one at that,” he muttered, looking at the pictures once again.
“Hands to yourself,” Ambrose warned. “I want to be the first to show Miss Alicenoko how we do things around here.”
Gabriel acquiesced, turning to leave the room.
“Oh, and Gabriel,” Ambrose called to his retreating form, “do hurry up. I find I can’t wait to meet that tender morsel.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Return to Bob’s Bar
Saturday, 12th August 2006
Bob’s Bar, Los Angeles
9:30pm
Galen rolled his eyes as he looked up at the building. “So this is the infamous ‘Bob’s Bar’ huh? Tell me again why are we here?”
Kate sighed; she didn’t really want to be here herself, not after what had transpired between herself and Bob the last time. Despite that, though, she was desperate enough to find out any information concerning the disappearance of her friends to swallow her pride and seek out Bob a second time.
“I told you, Galen,” she said assertively, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “Bob is the best snitch in town. Sure he’s a liar and a cheat, but no one so much as sneezes in L.A. without Bob hearing about it.”
“Sounds delightful.”
Galen eyed the occupants of the bar warily; demons of almost every creed imaginable milled around the tables drinking, smoking and laughing in a bawdy manner. He slipped a protective arm around Kate’s waist and pulled her closer to himself. Kate laughed.
“Galen, I used to work here. These guys used to be my regulars.”
“But Kate, they’re demons! They’re not to be trusted.” Despite his attempt to remain calm and domineering he couldn’t stop himself jumping slightly as a pair of demons began to take punches at each other.
Kate noticed Galen’s cool façade slip a little and smiled. He was usually so in control, never showing his weaknesses, but demonic behaviour was never his strong point. “They’re Fallak demons. Too much testosterone, they’re always like this after too many drinks.”
Galen nodded but he still didn’t accept that their antics were little more than friendly ‘horse play’. “Let’s just find Bob and get the hell out of here okay?”
Kate nodded and they made their way to the bar, only Bob was nowhere to be found. Instead a tall, gawky looking male stood behind the bar, looking just as untrustworthy and shiftless as his older brother. Reggie Wedge Junior recognised Kate instantly - the woman had worked for his brother a while ago and Bob never shut up about her during that time, though looking at her for the first time now he could understand why.
Galen leaned across the bar, “Hey, you know where Bob is?” he asked, anxious to get both himself and Kate out of that place.
Reggie shuffled to where they stood, looking the couple up and down. “He ain’t here,” he said awkwardly.
“I can see that,” scoffed Galen, glancing sideways at Kate.
“You’re Bob’s brother right?” asked Kate, trying a more friendly approach than her impatient husband. “I’m Kate, I used to work here.”
“Yeah I know who you are, you’re the reason poor Bobby’s laid up at home and I’m here-“ Reggie suddenly stopped talking, “Oh geez, Bobby always said I talk too much and-“
Kate held her hand up to stop the boy’s rambling. “Wait, you said Bob’s laid up? What happened? How is it my fault?” she looked over at Galen who shared her look of confusion.
“All I know is that Bobby was over the moon when he saw you last week, especially when you kissed him like that and invited him back to your place for a night of sweet wicca lovin’…”
Kate rolled her eyes, and Galen could hardly contain his amusement, looking like he was about to burst out laughing. Of course he knew what had really happened that night, and that Reggie’s version was nothing more than male bravado.
Kate turned to him and leaned in, “Say just one word and I swear you’ll not get any sweet wicca lovin’ for the next month.”
“…and then the next thing you stand poor ol’ Bobby up like that…”
Reggie continued talking; he was obviously much more loose-lipped than his older brother.
“…Then this guy came in the bar two nights ago and started using Bobby’s head as a baseball.”
“What?” Kate’s voice sounded incredulous.
“This guy came in and beat Bobby to a pulp with a goddamn baseball bat!” explained Reggie, a note of sorrow in his voice.
Kate looked a little shocked, especially with the amount of malice in Reggie’s voice. “I’m really sorry about that but Bob mixes with some pretty unreliable people. What makes you think Bob getting beat up has anything to do with me?”
“Not just ‘beat up’.” Reggie glared at the woman, sure she was pretty and had a hot body but none of that was worth the beating Bob had received. “More like practically killed. He got a broken leg, cracked ribs, fractured skull… I had to leave my own bar in Vegas just so that he has someone to look after him. Guy like Bob can’t afford fancy hospitals like some folk.”
Galen sighed in annoyance. The time when Reggie’s accusational rambling had gone from amusing to irritating had long since passed. “What has any of this to do with Kate?”
“It was her fault,” Reggie said, pointing at Kate sullenly. “This guy said it was because of her that he was laying into Bob. If it hadn’t been for her none of this would have happened.”
Kate frowned, “What was this man’s name?”
Reggie scratched his head trying to remember. “Trigger, yeah, I think that’s what he called himself. Bobby sold him some info about a telepath only it didn’t work out for Trigger, so he beat Bobby up. You should see him, he can’t even feed himself.”
Galen took Kate’s arm and pulled her away from the bar. “Forget this Kate, it’s nothing to do with you.”
“What are you talking about?” she said, whispering quietly. “I DO know who he’s talking about. The man’s name is Damen Kirk - he came into Bibliophile earlier this week when I went to look for Daye.” Kate leaned in closer, “He’s a dangerous man Galen, even I was afraid for what he might do.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he said a little angrily. He loved Kate deeply but she had an annoying habit of letting things like this ‘slip’ her mind.
“If you want the truth, I felt ashamed. I put myself in a position where I didn’t have control over the situation. Damen Kirk came to Bibliophile looking for me, he needed someone to track down his friend or find the person hired to kill him. I’m not sure…”
“A hitman?” Galen struggled to lower his voice. “I seriously don’t like where this is going…”
“Anyway, when I couldn’t help him he got… angry. Very angry.”
“Kate!” Galen could hardly control himself now, “You had Emma with you that day. What if something had happened to her!?”
“You don’t think I know?” Kate said, her voice betraying her own anger at her err of judgement. “At least Joshua was with me. I don’t know, I just wanted him out of there. I guess I could have said something that might have redirected his anger at Bob…”
Galen tried to compose himself. He looked over at Reggie who stood at the bar, glaring at the two of them. “That still doesn’t make this your problem.” He could tell where this was going before she even began. “Men like this Kirk guy, they’re unstable. I mean, what kind of person blames HIS beating the shit out of someone on a remark made by a woman.”
Kate raised an eyebrow at that last part but let it slide. “Still, I feel responsible. It sounds like Bob’s in a pretty bad way…”
“Don’t even say what I KNOW you’re going to say…” Galen knew his wife too well to expect her to do what he asked but he had to say it nevertheless.
“I think we should go see how Bob is.”
“And she said it!” Galen threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.
“Oh please, Galen!” Kate looked up at him forlornly, her bottom lip screwed up slightly.
“Oh you had to use ‘the face’ didn’t you!” he whined in defeat. He could never refuse her when she looked at him in that helpless way. He sighed and turned back to Reggie, “So… where does ‘Bobby’ live?”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Friday 28th July 2006
1:20pm The Society of Ulle Lodge
Looking round the spartan quarters of the Society of Ulle lodge, Paul snorted. “Well we know where his priorities lie. Have you seen upstairs?”
“A Huntmaster is well within his rights to furnish his personal accommodations however he chooses, especially when he does it at his own expense.”
“You’re telling me we didn’t pay for that?" Paul jerked his thumb toward the lift and Sorrow’s apartment.
“He’s a vampire hunter, and no we didn’t pay for that.”
“I didn’t realise being a trash collector paid so well.”
“Paul, please keep you prejudices to yourself,” interrupted Sara. “The older vampires collect wealth as a consequence of a long life. A little time spent creatively with holy water, crosses… sunforged steel, and you can acquire a small fortune.”
“And Tristan was introduced to the Society by Miss Stashelf, whose mercenary abilities were well known. He may have been all but bankrupt when he joined us but six months later he was a wealthy man. This is, however, beside the point and I’ll remind you Paul that for the moment he is still the Huntmaster of Los Angeles. Your invasion of his privacy is unacceptable.”
“Oh please, the guy killed a hunter…”
“Rumour is not proof.” Jonathan’s voice was harsh.
“Fine, so get Miss Goody two-shoes over there to do her mojo,” Paul wiggled his fingers in front of his face, “and pluck the proof right out of his head.”
“That will not be as easy as we hoped. Sorrow has very strong mental shields. While I may, in time, be able to penetrate them, doing so without his knowledge is going to prove impossible.”
“Like we care if he knows…”
“You should.” The third man, Karl, finally spoke.
“Yeah right…”
“Paul, stop being an ass. I watched the guy take down a dozen - that’s right, twelve - vampires a couple of nights ago. He didn’t even break a sweat. It looked routine.”
“So the guy's a badass with that sword. What do I care? Give me the word and I’ll pop him from a mile away.”
“Enough!”
Jonathan turned to his assistant. “You’re certain you cannot penetrate his shields without his knowledge?”
Sara smiled tightly. “I’m certain. Those shields confirmed the Bremen rumours for me.”
“Fine, we’ll use that as a last resort then. Karl, the autopsy?”
“A praentath killed him… no doubt of that. There were fragments of obsidian throughout the wounds They initially flagged it as a possible serial killer but once they connected him with the mall incident,” Karl shrugged, “they dropped the case.”
“Well, it may have been a praentath that killed him but it wasn’t a myoleth who used it.” Paul’s demeanour had calmed down considerably. “The local clan didn’t even know who Xavier was and no foreign Myoleth were in the area at the time.”
“And no clan is going to risk that level of insult for a simple vengeance killing,” Jonathan spoke regretfully.
“Exactly. So we have to assume a human.”
Sara spoke again. “The ritual for creating a praentath has been in human hands for decades.”
“Nonetheless it is not widely known and Sorrow is considered an expert in these things.” Johnathan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So the means were well within his ability. Motive?”
“Vrithetek.” Karl’s response was instantaneous.
“No, Sorrow was uncomfortable with Xavier’s hunt. The phone call after the incident in the mall showed that but I doubt he’d kill a hunter over it. Vrithetek has shown he can take care of himself.”
“Jadyn then.” This from Sara. “Love can be blinding.”
“I’ll buy that she’s a hottie.”
“Paul…”
Sara continued on, “The living daughter of an elder vampire. There are those that chafe at the restriction not to hunt her even now.”
“And it was before Bremen, where Valerian supposedly made his feelings known.”
“Xavier was a glory hunter.” Karl sat forward and spoke with quiet assurance. “Unique was as interesting to him as powerful…”
“So Jadyn was the motive… Opportunity?”
“The guy hunts practically every night. Come on people, opportunity is the easiest to make… He did it. Now let's just kick him out and kill the bastard.”
“Paul! Xavier had other enemies…”
“None that we in the area at the time, sir. And few, if any were, would able to create a praentath.”
“She’s right, sir. If someone had bought a praentath on the black market we’d have known.”
“Fine,” the Knight ran a hand through is hair. “Sara, I want confirmation. Make your preparations. Paul, Karl, if he’s guilty he knows what’s coming and will counter attack.” The two men nodded. “I would prefer this to be clean. A general hunt by the Society is not an outcome I want. See to it.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday, August 15th.
15:00 pm
Alessa’s place
Alessa hung up the phone and sat down, frowning. Ernie had just called to tell her that he hadn’t been able to break the spell on Morris’ diary. She had hoped he could so they wouldn’t have to ask for help.
Ernie had suggested that they take the diary to Bibliophile, but she didn’t want to… unless there wasn’t other option. She feared that the moment she gave the Watchers' Council access to the diary she would lose it. And if it really contained something important, something they could use against Dathan, Alessa wanted a part in it.
She had spent almost ten years looking for the vampires that killed Morris with no success. It was as if they had vanished into thin air, but it hadn’t occurred to her to look past the boundaries of South America. Now her need for revenge had been rekindled. She accepted that she would need help in this. Dathan wasn’t an ordinary vampire against whom she could charge with a stake in her hand, but she wanted a part in whatever was done against him.
Coming back to the problem at hand, she frowned again. *Who could help me with a magic spell?* she mused. Her thoughts went to the only people she actually knew in supernatural LA. *Darlome?* She knew he could do magic but she dismissed him anyway. She didn’t trust him… Vincent had no magical abilities, or so he had told them. That only left Cole…
She had seen the kid perform some powerful magic, but she wasn’t sure he would want to help them. He still resented her having demon blood. She sighed. Well, she could ask him anyway. But she would have to wait; the kid was at school at the moment. She would call him later, or maybe ask Chance to do it. Cole didn’t have anything against him.
She had returned home to find the house empty. Since their ride last Saturday Chance had dared to go out again. She knew he was worried about that James friend of his. He had left her a note, though, so she wouldn’t worry. She smiled. It meant much to her that he bothered with something like notes. She knew for certain that he was very set in his lonely man ways, and still… he bothered.
Alessa stood up and went about her chores. Although she loved having Chance around, she welcomed the time alone. Since the “beach day” she had been very nervous around him; she just hoped he hadn’t noticed. She had found herself looking for excuses to leave the apartment or to be alone in her room. She could no longer deny her feelings. Every time she closed her eyes all she could see was his blue eyes or his lopsided smile. She didn’t know if he reciprocated her feelings either, all she knew was that sometimes tension mounted up to electrifying levels, but Chance looked relaxed enough.
Alessa shook her head. For all her long life - she was almost ninety by now - she hadn’t had much experience in having a relationship. Morris had been the only man in her life. After her father died she had lived many years among the Verbati and then Morris had met her and started training her. Their falling in love had been slow and cautious, nothing like her feelings for Chance, she reflected. They had been together for almost twenty years… and then he had been killed and she had been too bent on revenge to care about being alone. Until now. Now that she had met Chance she felt lonely for the first time in many, many years.
She sighed; she knew she couldn’t go on like this much longer. Now that it seemed that he was no longer in danger he should look for another place to live… either that or she’d go crazy.
Her musing was interrupted by the sound of Chance’s key in the lock, and she forgot all her intentions of asking him to leave. Her face illuminated with a big smile as she moved to greet him.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday, August 15th
11:30 pm
Morris watched the chained Slayer from the shadows of the threshold. She struggled fiercely in the water against the heavy weights that bound her, as she had done for endless hours. She looked very young and harmless,despite the threats she screamed at the vampires that ringed the pool, but the masters hadn’t underestimated her powers and those chains had been made to hold.
He remembered his own Slayer - she had been young too, although not that young. The Council hadn’t believed him when he told them she was a potential; they didn’t believe a half blood could be one. But he knew better and had trained her anyway. He had left those fools then… he didn’t respect the Council any more, with their set ways and closed minds. He had taken all they could give, and he never regretted leaving. All he regretted was not having taken some of those precious books of theirs, or killing the haughty bastards! He showed his fangs in a hiss; he should have done much more damage then, to show them who Morris Giles was! The fools.
His thoughts went to his Slayer again, as he used to call her. She had been a hot chick and he had enjoyed every minute with her. He still resented not being able to turn her, but she hadn’t been human to start with, so she wouldn’t become a vampire. He should have killed her, he reflected, and only caution had prevented him from doing it. He had been too fresh then, too young in his vampiredom to attempt to kill her. He had trained her after all, and he knew what she was capable of. Anyway, he had enjoyed himself by killing all her surviving family so she wouldn’t have anybody to run to when he finally looked for her. *Maybe after the ceremony is complete I’ll search for her,* he thought. *She’s probably still in that back-land of hers, hanging from trees like her demon’s kind like to do,* he mused with contempt, but the possibility of having her again made his loins stir. He smiled to himself. *I’m certainly going to look for her,* he decided.
With thoughts of what he would do to his Slayer when he had her again, Morris joined the circle of vampires around the pool.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 16th,
8pm
The night air blew harder and chiller then before like ten thousand sad lost souls had invaded the city, chilling most to the bone, whilst for others it was something of a normal phenomenon. On the streets a homeless person had lit a fire in a dust bin and many were standing there warming themselves. Suddenly a hunched woman shoved past them.
“Hey look where you're going!” one homeless man replied, and as the woman kept going he added, “Must be some crazy lass, find them a lot in LA.”
Perhaps he was true. Tarix’s urge to have the Codex back was so intense that she had slowly started acting like a mad girl. Her clothes hung lifelessly on her body, mostly in tatters, whilst she herself seemed worse if possible. She had tried to go into the abandoned warehouse to see if Jessy was there, but her sister had left never to return to that place again. Tarix then had haunted the streets hunting for any sign of her sister and the Codex.
At times she would grow tired and crawl into an alleyway to fall asleep and wake up the next day to pursue her mission for sanity. Sometimes they were people who found her and tried to make advances on her, but no matter how tired she still had a lot of fury in her and she took it out on anyone who came near her. Others just ignored her like they ignored hundreds of other people on the streets. To them she was another burden on the economy.
It wasn’t until many weeks later that she finally found evidence of her sister. She was lying in another alleyway unable to go on, and resting for a while when she heard a drunk man approach her. He was singing to himself and didn’t even notice her as he slumped down near her. After he had noticed her the singing stopped. “Heeeey preety lady. What’s a girl like you doing in a dump like here?”
Tarix didn’t reply or move, but her muscles tensed up and she felt another set of her rage starting to grow. But the man continued, “I know I’m not much but you an’ me could own the world an…” he stopped and looked at her closely to laugh “Ha! I know I’m drunk but I could have sworn you look like the other pretty lady I met the other day. Oh Lord what I wouldn’t give to…” But he stopped as started gagging. He felt as if some invisible force was slowly squeezing his throat. Tarix slowly got up and came to the gagging man.
“What I wouldn’t give to see someone like you die,” she replied in a hoarse voice. “I've killed before you know. Think I could do it again.” She giggled, “People like you have no clue what’s going on around you do you?”
She looked at the man still choking. “Now tell me, where did you see my sister?”
The man’s eyes were starting to roll up in his head and he start fighting the invisible force around his throat trying to scratch it off. Tarix loosened her hold to let him talk. “Tell me!”
“Geez lady, what the hell are ya?” Tarix punched him hard in the nose. “Ok, ok, I saw her going into this motel. It's about a few blocks from here, only motel in the area.” And before he could say anything, she had taken off. “She could’ve at least say thank you. Man, do I deserve a thank-you.” And he started to sing again.
***
Jessy didn’t know what to think. She was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling just thinking about what to think. Well, actually it wasn’t her bed, just a temporary one that belonged to a cheesy motel, for which she knew she was paying too much. The room was cramped with battered curtains, probably home to a hundred moths, gaudy table lamps that were chained to the wall to prevent them from being stolen, *God only knows who’d dare try to steal them,* and a bed that Jessy didn’t even want to know what condition it had been left in.
She still remembered her meeting with Thule, which had taken place a few weeks ago. She had even tried to locate Tarix afterwards. However, when she went to her sister's apartment Tarix was nowhere to be found. She kept coming back to check up on it but it was left as it was, without a life and as if a hurricane had ran through it previously.
She really wanted to leave the town, to head back to her cozy apartment in good ol’ New York, New York. But for some reason she never tried. It was as if the task she had set off to do was unfinished and her deeper subconscious wouldn’t allow her to leave it like that. Jessy knew she hated Tarix. Hated her for the way she had turned out. Hated her for eradicating a future she could have had with a family and hating her just because she felt it was the right thing to do.
Whether she still felt any love deep, deep down, she didn’t know, but she doubted it. She suddenly sat upright, knowing she felt a familiar aura. Then sat on her bed, looking towards the door waiting. As if on cue the door burst open with all the renewed strength Tarix could muster.
Jessy noticed Tarix looked very different then she had left her and her appearance made her feel guilty and sympathetic, but only for a little while.
“Hey Jazz, what can I do for you?” she said as normally as possible.
Tarix took a step forward and in a horse voice replied, “Where is it? Give it to me!”
Jessy seemed puzzeled then realized what she was talking about. “If you mean the Codex then I don’t have it.” It then suddenly hit her; she was right and Tarix couldn’t take all the memories any more, and probably wanted to block them. “Actually I threw it away, in a drain, so you couldn’t get your filthy hands on it.”
Tarix’s eyes went round in surprise. “NO!!!” she gasped. “NO NO NO!!!” she repeated, and felt a surge of power surround her. “B,b,but I need it! I NEED IT NOW!!!” And she released the energy towards her sister.
Fortunately Jazz had felt the power gather around her sister and prepared herself, and when the telekinetic power was released she blocked it with her hands outstretched. “Tch, tch, tch,” Jessy tutted. “Don’t you know that won’t work too well against me, unless you take me by surprise. And you’d never be able to take me by surprise; I’ve prepared myself to well for you.”
But it didn’t look like Tarix wanted to hear anything. She stumbled forward and tried to punch her sister with all her might. Jessy stepped back and avoided the punch and the kick that followed after that. To her, Tarix was fighting like a drunk person. After a few more missed blows Jessy started to grow tired of the charade. She grabbed Tarix’s hand, twisted it around her back and tilted her towards the ground.
“Come off it Jazz. Is that all you have? Fine, you want to know where that Codex is, go ask Thule. But I think it’ll be a waste of your time. The power of the spell has faded away, and the Codex will no longer help you.”
Tarix tried to struggle. “No! You’re lying! Its not true!” She managed to get out of Jessy’s grasp and tried to throw her an upper cut, which caught Jessy directly in the jaw.
Jessy stumbled but managed to regain herself. “Ok, now I’m mad.” And with that punched Tarix hard in the face, and she fell back unconscious. Jessy, shaking her head looked down at her. “Well, she could never give a good fight, could she?” And with that bent down to pick her up, put her over her shoulder and headed out the door.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 16th
9:45pm
For a few minutes Tarix couldn’t hear or see anything. Then slowly, faded images started to come into view; blurred beige like paper or was it a wall? She could also make out some voices.
“…felt like leaving her there. I’m telling you she’s still as evil as she was before. Even more so.”
“No, you did well in bringing her here. She is in awful shape, you can see she’s been through a lot.”
“Thule, don’t start…”
Tarix suddenly jumped and stood up, realizing she had been staring at the ceiling of Thule’s home from his sofa. “Wha..?” she said trying to make out Thule, who had come to Tarix’s aid while Jessy just stood there.
“Thule? Thule, Jessy said you had the Codex. I need the Codex, Thule. Please.” And with that she tried to walk towards the image she saw approaching but swayed on her feet and almost fell over, if it weren’t for Thule who caught her.
“Jasmine, listen to me. The Codex doesn’t work for memory retaining. It was never made for that. And right now you need some rest and I won’t let you go anywhere,” he said as he carried her to the couch again.
“No, Thule, please…” Tarix tried to say but slumped down on the couch anyway, as she started to feel more energyless.
Jessy seemed to be watching this impatiently and when Tarix had reached the couch she turned irritably towards Thule. “Ok, while you’re being a nursing mentor, me - who's done all I can - can I go now? I have grown quite tired of her weakness.”
Thule straightened up to turn towards Jessy. “No,” he replied. “Now is a worse time than ever to leave. Jessy, I know you, and right now I can’t allow you to go. Try to understand.”
Jessy looked exasperated. “Thule, what will it take?!” she said flinging her arms in the air. “Huh? What?”
Thule remained quiet as if considering what to say next. Finally he gave a sigh. “Jessy, your father worked for the Order of Valour. You know that, right?”
She looked confused. “Well, yes. I don’t know much as I was quite small when he used to work there, and when he quit to escape with his family I only knew that he had stopped working with you. You both never wanted me to know much, except for the regular trainings you gave me at some time,” she replied, a nostalgic expression on her face.
“Jessy, your father may have been the first human to have worked there, but he was hired because his abilities were far beyond those of an average human. With that I mean his photographic memory he was blessed with. And I have to admit, he was good at what he did.” Thule looked at Jessy, and for a moment she felt as if he was looking at her with a fatherly gaze. “He gave up his life’s work to save you from a fate he feared, but I also know that he would have given anything to see you working at the Order, his only two girls working where he once did, where he will never work again.”
Much to Thule’s relief his words had struck an emotion in her, and she remained quiet and looked away. After a while she bit her lip and turned to Thule. “So you want me to work for the Order of Valour? An organization I don’t even know about? Or better yet, with her?” she indicated towards Tarix, who was now asleep on the couch.
“I don’t think your father would have liked his daughters to kill one another.” Before Jessy could say anything he continued, “Whatever happened has happened. It was the past. You think if Tarix was happy with the path she took in her past she would be like this now?” He pointed towards Tarix, who was still sleeping but twitched in her place from time to time, making noises as if she was having a nightmare.
He turned back to her. “You have to be calm and patient. I know you why you didn’t kill her before and for the same reason you will never be able. Whatever she did, she is your sister, and an identical one at that. Give her a chance to prove herself.”
Jessy remained quiet, but after a while threw her hands in the air as if to give up. “Fine, have it your way. But when she kills me and you, I will be the angel at that time going ‘I told you so’!”
Thule gave her a small smile. “I knew you’d understand.” He turned to Tarix. “I think we can move her to her apartment. She needs to be in a place that is familiar to her.”
“What? Your going to leave her alone again after what’s she’s done to herself?” She then saw the expression on Thule’s face and realized she had stepped in a trap. “Ohhh no, no you don’t. Thule, that’s not fair!” But Thule’s expression remained.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Spiritual Healing
Saturday, 12th August 2006
Apartment of Bob Wedge, Alhambra, Los Angeles
10:15pm
Kate and Galen walked silently behind Reggie as he led the way to Bob’s apartment. He’d left the bar under the charge of one of the locals – M’akala, a Hungarian Bavitta demon - not trusting the young couple to visit his brother on their own in case they caused him more distress.
“It was one of the patrons that found him,” Reggie spoke, breaking the silence as he unlocked the door. “I guess we should be glad it wasn’t a vampire or…”
Kate stepped into Bob’s apartment; the décor was very spartan, though she couldn’t see much as the doors leading to the other rooms were all closed. Reggie walked down the corridor and pulled open the door to Bob’s bedroom. The room was pretty big and looked like the stage set for some cheesy eighties soft-porn film, with mirrors fixed on the ceiling and a thick black shag-pile carpet on the floor.
“Bobby’s still asleep,” announced Reggie. “You guys can stay here while I go call the bar, make sure that goober M’akala hasn’t drank all the profits away."
Galen cast an eye around the room once their host had departed. “Who does this guy think he is? Hugh Hefner?”
Kate gave Galen a disapproving state as they both walked further into the bedroom. Kate couldn’t help but gasp as she saw Bob, her hand flying to cover her mouth. Bob had never been a handsome man but now he was little better than grotesque. His right eye was swollen closed, black and blue with bruising, as was the entire right side of his face. There was a particularly bad gash across the back of his head running down to his forehead, the red skin was held together with paper stitches. In addition to these mostly superficial wounds Bob also had his left leg in plaster and suspended on a makeshift pulley system that Reggie had no doubt constructed himself.
Kate felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. He was obviously in a lot of pain and Kate was certain that it was partly her fault. Her hand slipped from Galen’s as she went to sit at Bob’s bedside.
“Bob?” she said quietly. When she got no response she gently brushed her hand against his injured brow and called his name again.
Bob murmured quietly before opening his good eye. He couldn’t see very well but could make out the blurred shape of something beautiful and lovely sitting at his side; the corner of his mouth quirked up in a slight smile. “Kate?” he asked hoarsely, coughing a little, “is that you come to visit me?”
Galen stepped out of the doorway and stood behind Kate, placing a territorial hand on her shoulder. Bob was no threat but he decided it was best to nip such a ridiculous infatuation in the bud as quickly as possible.
Bob looked up, squinting with his good eye to see the man who had just appeared behind Kate. Recognising him as her husband he immediately cringed, “Oh, geez… look buddy I’m not really in the best shape to confront the jealous husband right now…”
Kate stole a glance at Galen and tried to hide a smile. “We’re not here about that Bob,” she said softly. “Reggie told us about what happened - I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry.”
Bob’s expression softened at her honest concern. “Occupational hazard in my line of work.” He looked warily at Galen, who appeared to glare at him from his lofty position. Bob let his swollen hand cover Kate’s and attempted to squeeze it.
“I should have known you’d come to see me. Despite my indiscretions...” he looked up at Galen again, “…a misunderstanding I assure you, it won’t happen again.”
Galen rolled his eyes and sighed. Kate took Galen’s hand in her free one and held it tightly in a silent plea for his patience.
“Look Bob, I feel partly responsible and I want to help you, I am a healer after all.”
Galen’s head snapped to attention at Kate’s words. Her healing Bob’s injuries had never even been on the agenda until that moment.
Kate leaned a little closer to Bob, surveying his injuries. She pulled back his bed sheets slightly to expose his upper torso, and placed her hands above his ribs. Bob grinned down at her slightly, but then for some reason looked up at Galen. The dark look of fury on his face made the grin fade away quickly and Bob instead tried to make his expression completely passive, irrespective of Kate’s close proximity.
A light glow emanated from Kate’s hands as she concentrated. She could sense Galen’s growing disapproval but she had to block that out, block everything out while she focused on healing Bob. Reggie had been correct, Bob had two broken ribs and a slight fracture to another. Kate closed her eyes as the healing glow from her hands increased as it passed into Bob’s body.
Bob let a slight sigh of relief escape his lips as he felt some of the pain in his body start to ease. His breathing became much easier to begin with, he opened his good eye and gazed down at Kate, he could sure get used to this kind of treatment.
It took a further fifteen minutes for Kate to finish the healing on Bob’s ribs, after which she felt immensely drained. Galen held her close against his own body, cradling her in his arms protectively. He looked at Bob with a cold stare.
“That’s enough, Kate’s clearly exhausted.” He looked down at his wife and stroked her pale cheek gently. “I think we should go home now.”
Kate looked up at Galen and frowned. “But I haven’t had the chance to ask about Tash and Victor-"
Galen glanced back at Bob, “Do you really think he’s in a state to talk?”
“Hmmm, you’re right,” said Kate after carefully assessing the remaining injuries Bob had sustained. He still had a broken leg and that would take a while to heal, as would the head injury. She slipped from Galen’s arms and stood at Bob’s bedside again.
“I should probably go now, get some rest. But there’s something I need your help with, if you’re willing. In exchange I could finish off the healing I’ve started.”
Galen shot Kate a wild glance. Despite his complete trust in her the last thing he wanted was for Kate to spend more time with this creep! “I don’t think..." he began.
“I’d do anything to help,” said Bob quickly, cutting off Galen smugly.
“Very well then.” Kate took Galen’s hand again, trying to ignore his scrutinising stare as they headed to the door. “I’ll see you soon Bob.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Whatever It Takes
Tuesday, 15th August 2006
The Eldridge Residence - Birch Street, Los Angeles
6:30pm
Galen paced the nursery room impatiently. Kate sat in a low armchair and nursed Emma gently at her breast, occasionally stealing a glance at her husband and shaking her head in dismay.
“There’s no need to shake your head like that!” said Galen, noticing her dismissive glance, “I can’t believe you’re actually considering this as an option! Since when did we need the help of Bob Wedge all of a sudden?!”
Kate cast an annoyed frown at Galen as she struggled to balance Emma in her arms. The baby cried slightly until she was able to securely latch herself back onto Kate’s breast again. Kate’s frown grew, “Probably since two of my best and closest friends disappeared without a trace! I’m willing to do whatever it takes to find them, if that means spending a little time with Bob until he’s fit enough to tell me what he knows then so be it.”
Galen scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, “But Kate-“ he began then stopped. “For god’s sake do you know how difficult it is having a conversation with you when you have your breasts out like that?!”
Kate rolled her eyes, “I’m giving our daughter her lunch!” After a few minutes she sighed and handed Emma over to Galen while she rearranged her clothes. Galen held Emma against his shoulder, rubbing her tiny back gently to get her to burp.
“All I’m saying,” he continued while still burping Emma, “is why do you have to go there by yourself? What if he tries something like last time?”
“Last time we were both drunk!” Kate exclaimed while buttoning up the remainder of her sweater, “if I had been sober do you think he’d have got anywhere near me?” Kate stood and pulled Galen close to her, mindful of Emma between them. “Nothing’s going to happen, and I might just find out what on Earth is going on around here.”
Jack could hear the voices of his daughter and son-in-law as he ascended the staircase towards the nursery. He had hardly slept since his meeting with Gemmel and Carmichael. The events of that night continued to play in his mind like a bad movie rerun. He didn’t know why The Ministry were lurking around L.A. or why they’d felt the need to contact him again after all these years, but he did know that he had to warn someone about their presence. If only to preserve his own sanity.
He pushed open the door and smiled slightly. Kate and Galen were holding each other closely; baby Emma securely cradled between them. He sighed quietly as he stepped into the room. The scene in front of him reminded Jack of happier a time many years ago when he and Kate’s mother had been together.
Kate looked up as Jack entered the room and smiled warmly, separating herself from Galen as he went to put Emma down in her crib.
“You’re back. How was your meeting with The Alliance?” Kate went to her father and embraced him warmly; Jack had been out of town for the past two days on some work-related event. Kate knew very little about what Jack did for a living but she was aware that he was in constant communication with his superiors in New York trying to get his secondment to Los Angeles more permanent.
Jack held his daughter, though he had missed the past twenty years of her life he was amazed at how openly she had welcomed him. But that wasn’t so surprising when he saw how in love she and Galen were, or how the couple doted on their young daughter.
“Negotiations are running smoothly,” he reported stiffly, kissing her cheek and running a hand through her hair. He still thought the likeness between his daughter and late wife was astounding.
Galen returned from putting Emma to down to sleep and wrapped his arms around Kate’s waist. “Hey Jack, I wish I could say it’s been quiet around here without you…”
Kate elbowed him playfully then laughed, “Erm Galen? You have baby puke on your shoulder.”
Galen screwed his face up in disgust as he left the room to clean himself up. Kate laughed as she went to close the curtains and then tucked Emma in more securely. “How was New York?” she asked when she finally returned her attention to Jack.
The two carefully closed the nursery door and made their way downstairs to the living room. Jack scoffed, “About as close to hell as you can get without actually being there.”
Jack waited for Kate to sit down before he continued. He didn’t know how he was going to tell her any of this. He’d never told a soul about his involvement with The Ministry almost twenty years ago, and in truth he wasn’t even sure if he could begin to explain.
“I have something I have to tell you Kate,” he began, clearing his throat nervously. “It’s, er, I don’t really know how to say this but it’s very important.”
Kate sat patiently and waited. She could tell Jack was bothered by something but she was unable to ascertain what. For the first time since she’d been reunited with him his mind seemed to be turned off to her. Jack wrung his hands anxiously, his face contorted into an expression of utter perturbation.
Jack opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come. He frowned and tried again. Still he found he was unable to vocalise the thoughts in his head. *The Ministry are in Los Angeles. You may have heard of them but they are not to be trusted. I don’t know what their motives are but I think they mean to harm me in some way. I’m afraid for your safety, for the safety of yourself and Galen and your child…*
Jack concentrated on trying to send that message to Kate but he could tell she was unable to hear him through their telepathic link either. He sighed again, certain that either Gemmel or Carmichael had cast some sort of spell to stop him from warning anyone about their presence.
“If this is about the Brotherhood then I already know,” began Kate, taking Jack’s hand in hers.
“The Brotherhood? No…” Jack stopped for a moment, he might not be able to warn Kate, or anyone else for that matter of the threat he knew was lurking in LA, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t protect her. “Yes, the Brotherhood. I think it’s too dangerous for you to be in Los Angeles with the Brotherhood in town. I was hoping you might consider leaving for a short while, until the situation has been resolved.”
Kate shook her head. “And who’s going to resolve the situation if we are gone? No Jack, I understand your reservations but I can’t leave.”
Jack rose to his feet. He felt desperate. He wanted Kate and the rest of his ‘family’ as far away from L.A. as possible until he knew why The Ministry had sought him out again. He looked into Kate’s eyes and saw the same unshaken determination that her mother used to have.
“Very well,” he said finally, “If you’re determined not to leave then I want to prepare you for what may lie ahead.” Again Jack felt a barrier blocking what he most desired to say. *I want you to be able to protect yourself if the worst should happen and The Ministry comes after you…*
“Well what do you suggest?”
“Training, in your psychic powers. The… Brotherhood are able to hypnotise and bend the will of those who are unable to properly protect themselves. I won’t let that happen to you if you’re determined to face them.”
Kate trembled inside, she didn’t really want to face The Brotherhood if she could avoid it, though she knew it might well come to that. “Okay, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
A Toorak home - Melbourne
Wednesday the 26th July, 2006
23:25EST
It had been a quiet night in the Toorak household. Since Jason and Nick had returned from the Jam Factory searching for Quin, they’d calmed down and settled into a lax mode along with their parents as they left Quin undisturbed in her room to rest.
The men of the house were all retired to the lounge room where they watched 'Sports Tonight' broadcasting the latest results. As dull and morose as limp vegetables, they only half absorbed what was being said, if that. Janine, Quin’s mother, was finishing up in the kitchen flattening a Sara Lee apple crumble box, ready to take out for recycling. It was bin night tonight.
Every day she nearly wished she had never married her husband, just to prevent such a fate from ever befalling their children. While her sons had a lot of pressure on them, poor Quin suffered the most. Janine suffered right along with her as she stood helpless on the sidelines, unable to interfere to save her daughter. All she wanted was for her to have a normal life! She had cried herself to sleep night after night for the past year, slipping into blissful dreams where she was able to spend normal mother daughter moments with Quin: go shopping, get coffee, create a new style at the hairdressers. Quin would be embarrassed with her mum when she’d hold a top up against her to measure its sleeve lengths against her arms in Target, and Janine would yell at Quin for wasting her money on a $500 dollar pair of faded and ripped jeans at Chadstone.
Unfortunately, like most things, her dreams were flawed. She could never have anything every other mother could. But life would continue to carry on and she had made a promise to herself, for the sake of her family, that she would stay strong and be there for them no matter what.
She was in the middle of wiping down the bench and closing up the dishwasher when a knock came at the front door, catching her immediate attention. She paused and raised her head from balancing the half-closed dishwasher door to peer around the alcove into the lounge where her curious eyes caught her husband's. *Who would be coming here at this time of the night?* A slight chill ran down her spine as she slammed the dishwasher door shut and pressed ‘start’.
Jason rose from his position on the couch and strode confidently to the front of the house while the rest of the family stayed behind to await whoever it was. Janine stood warily in the alcove while her husband, Michael, rose slowly from his reclining chair. Straightening, he arched his back and flexed his shoulder blades till there was an audible soft crack, then moved to take a step in the direction his eldest son had disappeared.
They could hear silent murmurs coming from the front house, one that was easily recognised as Jason’s carried a threatening tone to it. Footsteps that followed could be heard, indicating that whoever was there was not much perturbed by his efforts.
“I SAID LEAVE!”
Michael stopped in his tracks at the sound of his son’s demanding voice reverberating off the walls throughout the two storey house. His brows drew down angrily as he stood waiting for the intruder to appear. Nick rolled quickly out of the leather bean-bag, stumbling towards his mother to stand protectively beside her as she too waited, determined to stand her ground. Despite his mother’s efforts, however, Nick could see her trembling. Admittedly he was himself to a degree.
“Hm… such a nice welcoming party. One of the best yet, I’d have to say,” announced a tall, arresting man, sashaying into the room with his heavy tailored black coat flying behind in his wake. His clean-shaven head enhanced the sharpness of his well composed features, pumped full of arrogance as he surveyed the room with one swift glance. Icy white eyes penetrated every last inch of the space till not one single fragment of lint was unaccounted for as he flashed his cunning, dangerously white smile upon his ‘hosts’.
“Well?”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 16th,
10:15am.
When the phone rang it had startled Chance, nearly making him jump out of his skin in fact. Even though the TV had been on with some daytime chat show where somebody was in some bizarre situation, probably involving marriage and/or kids, but he hadn’t really been paying attention. Instead, he had his nose stuck in a book. Now usually that wasn’t something Chance would go in for, but desperate times called for desperate situations. So far, apart from the usual ‘Elders are high and mighty, all who have gone up against them have died’ line, they had squat. And besides, if somebody had actually bothered to write the damned thing in the first place, then surely there was something of value in it.
It hadn’t been going well. So, with a pile of books next to him Chance was deeply concentrating. When the insistent ringing started his startled hands dropped the book to the floor. After picking it up, he reached tentatively for the phone. He always worried about answering it, worried about who would be calling. Alessa was out at work, so it was just he.
That was something else he was concerned about. She seemed to be trying to… not avoid him exactly. Not entirely. But something had changed in her. Of that he was sure. And something had changed in him as well. Chance hadn’t quite figured it out yet, but all he knew was that he often found himself checking the time for when Alessa would come home. And that wasn’t the start of it. There was a whole long list… yet he was more inclined to go with it than against it.
Chance picked up the phone and held it at his ear. Making his voice deep, just in case, he answered with a, “Hello?”
“Hello?” came the reply, nervously. “Umm… is… err… Alessa there? Or Chance? I might have the wrong number…”
Chance chuckled. “No, Cole, it’s me. Just being extra safe, y’know.”
“Yeah… ok,” Cole replied. “Better to make sure after all, I guess. Listen, I just got Alessa’s message.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She just said for me to ring her. Or you. You still haven’t moved out yet?” Chance could imagine Cole having a great, big grin on his face.
He frowned, then smiled as well, and spoke with just a hint of ice. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Naw, not feeling too good.”
“Still getting the headaches, huh?” Cole had been getting frequent migraines since the spell to track James. It had taken a lot out of him, and still hadn’t finished taking. “So yeah… uhh… yeah, she probably wanted to talk to you about the book.” Cole asked which book, and Chance explained about Morris’ diary.
The teen paused in thought for a moment. “Well, yeah it sounds like an encryption spell to me. Shouldn’t be too hard to decrypt. Want me to come round and take a look?”
“Sure. When are you available?”
“Uhh… well, I have school all tomorrow if I’m feeling good again. If not, well, I wouldn’t like to try a decryption spell with a headache. But maybe I’ll pop round in the afternoon?”
“Great. We need to crack this thing, like, ASAP. Tomorrow should be fine.” Chance was sure Alessa wouldn’t mind Cole popping round or Chance inviting him, not if she'd called him in the first place. He just hoped she had nothing special planned he would ruin.
There was another pause. “Ummm… Chance, if you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you get Darlome to do this?”
That was a good question. Chance sighed. He knew Alessa didn’t think much of the demon, and to be honest he didn’t either. But he was, no had been, James’ friend. Still… "To be honest, Alessa’s not overly fond of him. And I haven’t heard of Darlome or Vincent since…” he trailed off.
“Yeah,” Cole said, “Not surprised really.”
“Me neither. So anyway, tomorrow?”
“Ok, see you then.”
“See you.” He hung up and sat for a moment in silence, wondering why Alessa hadn’t explained about the book or invited Cole over in the message. But then he remembered how tense Cole seemed to get around Alessa, and Darlome for that matter. Probably wouldn’t have much been inclined to take an invitation from her. Especially one to do a spell, considering where the last one took them.
**Flashback**
11th August,
4:30pm
Chance pulled up in the midday heat. Vincent, Darlome and Cole were waiting for them on the other side of the street, armed to the teeth. Alessa climbed off the back of the bike, unwrapping her arms from around him somewhat gingerly, before he followed suit. He opened one of the side cases and they both grabbed their weapons; stakes and crucifixes each and Alessa had the crossbow whilst Chance carried the shotgun. Crossing the road, they met up with the other two.
The building in front of them, according to Cole, was where the trail he was following ended. Either James had died here, or this was where the counter-spell that was blocking all magic had been first enacted.
With the potential of an Elder or more involved, they were taking no chances. Besides his and Alessa’s small arsenal, Vincent had his glove and a cattle prod, Darlome wielded a sword and Cole carried an axe, though he looked as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing with it.
“You sure this is the place?” Alessa asked him.
“Absolutely. Well, either that or he’s been taken somewhere else whilst the counter is still in place.”
“Let’s go already,” Darlome said, impatiently.
“Yeah, I’ve been cooped up too long,” Chance agreed, holding his shotgun fondly. “It’s time for some ass-kicking.”
They all crossed to the basement door of the two-story building. Apparently James had been down there, or close enough. Darlome blasted the door off its hinges with a spell, then the five piled in. Chance and Alessa went in first, weapons raised and ready to fire. Darlome and Vincent came in after and spread out around them. Cole brought up the rear. Inside it was dark. No lights were on, and the sun was only shining in through the door indirectly so it didn’t brighten it up too much. They could trace and make out faint outlines, but not any detail. There was too much shadow.
Cole summoned light into the room. What it revealed made them all gasp.
“My God,” Alessa breathed. Darlome swore and Cole backed away, gagging. Vincent’s eyes were wide. Chance shook his head and covered his nose with his hand. It still didn’t block out the smell completely.
Corpses lay strewn across the interior, mostly in pieces. It looked like there could have been anywhere between three and eight bodies all together; demons mostly but possibly two humans. Blood, of a variety of colours, was splattered across every surface; walls, floor, even the gambling table that still had the cards and money on it, left where they had fallen. It was nothing short of a massacre.
The smell was worse. Evidently the bodies had been here for quite some time. Small clouds of flies were buzzing round some.
“What the hell happened here?” Darlome asked.
“I think it’s safe to say something big and bad paid them a visit,” Alessa said, as she began picking her way through the body parts to inspect the room further. “And who didn’t want to play cards. Can anybody say ‘Elder’?”
“We’re not sure of that…” Chance began.
“It was,” Cole contradicted in a firm voice. They turned to look at him. He had backed out the doorway and dropped the axe. It lay at his feet. “I can feel the presence of something… powerful. And dead. Like what you sense when you’re around vampires sometimes, but faint as if it’s fading over time. Can’t you?” He turned to Darlome.
“Now that you mention it,” the demon replied in a gruff voice.
“But where’s James?” Vincent asked.
Chance motioned to the obviously human body parts. “All over the bloody place.” He noticed more than Alessa frowned at his bad use of humour. Quickly, he moved on. "I think it’s safe to say he’s dead.”
Darlome and Vincent shared a look that nobody else noticed. “I’m not overly bothered about this James guy,” Alessa reminded them. “But can you be sure?”
Chance hesitated a moment. “Well, in my experience, one guy doesn’t walk away from something like this when everybody else is, like, resting in pieces. You said James had been missing for, what, three weeksish now? I’d say these bodies had been here for about that long.” He turned to Darlome and Vincent.
“He might have been captured,” Cole ventured.
“Only to end up as dinner, ” Alessa said, dismissing his suggestion. “That’s the only reason vampires take anybody. Why else would they want him?”
Nobody could think of anything, and they all looked on in horror for a minute or two. Chance broke the silence, looking at the demon and the kid. “I’m sorry about James, really. He seemed ok. Guess that’s one less we can count in the fight against the Elders.”
They, reluctantly, agreed. Not wanting to spend long in the mass grave, everybody went outside quickly. After an uncomfortable moment outside, Alessa, Chance and Cole gave their condolences to the other two, and then their goodbyes. Darlome and Vincent left quickly and went their own way. The remaining three hesitated a minute longer in silence, then Chance and Alessa climbed back on his bike and started heading back to her place. Cole stared at the outside of the building for a bit, then shook his head, shrugged, and walked off in the direction of home. The image of the massacre remained on their minds for many days.
***
Shrugging off the memory, Chance turned back to his books. Maybe he would find something…
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Satuday 29th July 2006
3:48am Los Angeles
*Another airport…* Sam stood in the darkness watching Valerian’s private jet taxi to a standstill. It had just made the flight across the Pacific from Hong Kong and she was here to meet the rest of Valerian's brood. Two dozen vamps, not one younger than a century. Most were closer to two. She would be the only fledgling amongst them and Valerian had set her above them all.
The plane halted, the door opened and a set of stairs descended. A figure appeared in that doorway and Sam stiffened despite herself. Fong Sai Yuk. Valerian’s former Chief Lieutenant. The vampire Valerian trusted to oversee his Hong Kong holdings while he was in Los Angeles. 250 years old at least, he would not easily accept Samantha’s placement over him.
Samantha’s sudden grin was feral. *Well, he’ll have to get used to it.* Valerian had given her power - real power - and she wouldn't relinquish it, not for some stick-in-the-mud, 'women should be in the rice paddies', self-aggrandising old fuddy duddy like Fong. She held out her hand imperiously, waiting for Fong to accept it. His face scowled down at her and she merely smiled smugly, which broadened into a grin when he took her hand and bowed over it, albeit stiffly.
"So, operations are running smoothly in Hong Kong I trust?" Sam asked blandly as she guided Fong Sai Yuk and his underlings to the waiting cars.
"Of course. The Chinese clans will no doubt make trouble. They'll be dealt with though." The words were polite, almost expressionless, but inwardly Fong seethed. Why had Valerian placed this upstart fledgling american woman over him? Was this the reward for two centuries of faithful service?
Settling into the first car, hidden from the gaze of his underlings, Fong fixed Samantha with a glare. "How long is this little excursion going to take?" Implicit in his question was the fact that no matter how many precations he had taken, without a strong hand Hong Kong was vulnerable to outsiders while both he and Valerian were away.
Sam let amusement show in her eyes. *Ah, if only you knew why you were here you wouldn't be so bitter.* Truth to tell, she was a little resentful that Valerian hadn't chosen just her and her alone to share in the gift The Brotherhood were about to bestow on their progeny. She worried what effect it might have on Fong Sai Yuk. Would he try to usurp her position, so new and tenuous?
To him, she simply smiled tightly and said, "We have a deadline. You shouldn't be here more than three weeks, I estimate.” That was, of course, assuming that the arrogant old git didn't try to hang about afterwards. She worried a little about that deadline, too. Valerian assured her that it was all under control, but she knew the Slayer was still running around free out there, and what little she'd gleaned of the process to come she knew at least that much - the Slayer was crucial.
That look of amusement shining from her eyes enraged Fong but he swallowed it down. There'd be time later to put this fledgling in her place. "Three weeks? Our position will remain stable for that long. What does our master require of us?"
Her feral smile appeared again. "Los Angeles is a fruit ripe for the picking. It's a mass of weakling broods and demon haunts. Too many of our kind flee in fear from the hunters. We are here to teach them true fear to show them them the path. Valerian wants a war in the darkness. We're to stir this cauldron till it bubbles over."
"Ah," Fong smiled himself; for all his veneer of culture he was still a demon. "And the humans?"
"They too need to be taught a lesson. Soon enough the hunters will descend upon the city. They're to be taught to not interfere in our affairs further."
Fong steepled his fingers together and peered at Sam through them. "And Valerian deemed me most capable of overseeing such a task. Naturally." He smiled superciliously. For all the power Valerian had granted her, this young upstart was still a fledgling, and still naive in the matters of politics. It was a game Fong knew well and had played for centuries.
He cocked his head at Sam. "And these hunters. They are descending upon the city because they have caught wind of Valerian's dealings in this city? Have you been lax with security, my dear?"
"The hunters are pawns in the game. The local Huntmaster killed one of his own. In a few days he will be declared anathema and then..." Sam decided to ignore the insult to her abilities. This old fool knew nothing, yet thought himself master of the game. He'd run a city for Valerian but so what? She'd seen the master in action. A whispered word here, a dreamsending there. The Society was rushing headlong to their doom and would drag Sorrow with them. The memory of that night in Bremen came back to her.
She'd smile over his corpse soon enough.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
***August 14th, 2006 Midafternoon
Krispin stood before Alaric's desk looking for all the world like Gordon Freeman. Alaric was not fooled by the charade, however. He could see and even feel the menace that was issing forth from the mortal form that was Krispin's mouthpiece.
It was speeking through an open mouth, unhapmered by the movement of lips. "Alaric, our deal was to protect the vampires of the Order, not to empower them. I know you are hiding a few of them. If not here then elsewhere. They must leave the city before moonrise on the 18th. If they do not, I cannot be responsible for the damage that may occur to the Order and its holdings world wide."
*Not to mention me personally,* thought Alaric. The orange-toned man sat patiently, however. Not even a flicker of fear could be read on his countenance. "Without us, there would be no mystical event, would there? You could not find the Slayer without our help. How is she doing, by the way?"
"Do not change the subject Alaric. There are still Order of Valour vampires left in LA. If they are not gone by tomorrow night, then they will be hunted and dusted. Are we clear?" Krispin's voice was so loud, Alaric could hear Freeman's teeth rattling.
Freeman blinked a few times and cleared his throat. He excused himself to get a drink of water before returning. "Mr Alaric," he said matter-of-factly, "It would be in your best interests in the future to not change the terms of the deal after it has been struck. It angers people and makes for such... ugly... business."
Alaric chuckled. "You have delivered your message, and if your master could spare the time to send you then he could not spare the time to come himself. I think that we are quite within our arrangement. You, however," Alaric rose and towered over the slight man, "have upset me terribly. You should have kept your own mouth shut. I think that Krispin shall be in need of a new mouthpiece."
Freeman, to his credit, maintained his composure for a few seconds until his arm joints began to pop. A few moments later Alaric opened the door to his office and called down the hall, "Send someone in here to clean up this mess. And have them bring a new suit."
From the side door a soft knock preceeded Lianna's entry into Alaric's office. She licked her lips at the smell of blood in the air, but kept her eyes down. "I'm sorry Alaric, I should have left when you told me to, but there were so many things to take care of and..."
Alaric held her hand and patted it gently, "Don't worry, Lianna. You are protected. No overblown vampire will get to you unless he goes through us all. However, it seems that the 'fanged four' are closer to completion than I ever thought they would get. I was hoping that the Foundation, Ulle, the Watchers, Sindell... someone would have stopped them by now."
Lianna nodded, "I've put you all in danger by staying, I will leave tonight. Go to Paris or something."
Alaric let her go and when his clean suit arrived his thoughts were troubled. *If the Brotherhood completes their ritual they will be nigh unstoppable. Perhaps we should intervene. This turn of events will certainly unbalance our agenda.*
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 17th
5:10 PM
The sky was clear and the sun shone warmly down on Cole as he approached the front door of Alessa’s Spanish styled home. He would have been lying to himself had he said he was not the least bit nervous, but overall, the kid was confident in his abilities to work the mojo. All he needed to do was a simple decryption spell on some diary, and when he compared that to what he had done the night he met Chance, it seemed like child’s play - he hoped.
Putting on his bravest face, he rang the door bell and waited. Before anyone came to the door, Cole made a mental note to actively be nice to Alessa. This was her house, and even though she wasn’t human, she had never given anyone reason to believe she was dangerous. He didn’t have long to dwell on the matter before Chance opened the door.
“Hey Cole, come in, come in. Alessa’s in the other room just cleaning up a bit. You can set up wherever you want, we figured the living room would probably be best.”
“Yeah, anywhere is fine. The spell isn’t that complicated so I don’t need a big elaborate altar or anything.”
Cole followed Chance into the familiar living room, where he had slept over the night he had met both Alessa and Chance. “This is perfect, the coffee table will work fine to set up my things.”
“You know, Cole, you sure you’re up to this? Remember all the migraines you got after the last time? I don’t want you putting yourself in any danger,” Chance said protectively.
The kid looked up at Chance, studying him for an instant. He looked so different from the first time they had met. There were no bruises or cuts left on his face, and his hair and clothes were tidy and neat. What a difference it had made. Now, Chance seemed to emanate a sense of quiet power and dignity. Cole couldn’t help but feel more capable and safe in his presence. “Don’t worry about it, I'll be fine.”
Alessa heard the door opening and the exchange between Cole and Chance, at which she smiled. *Good, that kid doesn’t sound scared at least.* She took Morris’ diary from its hiding place and paused for a moment caressing its soft leather cover.
“Let’s see if you can talk to us today, Morris,” she softly said to the well used tome before heading towards the living room. She had traveled to Ernie’s the night before to retrieve the diary for today’s spell breaking attempt.
When Alessa entered the other room, Cole was arranging several objects on her coffee table while Chance looked at him with a strange expression on his face. She knew he didn’t like spells and such; it was proof of how interested he was in finding the Elders that he so quickly had agreed to help them in breaking this one.
“Cole!” she said with a warm smile, “Thank you so much for coming!” and hugged the kid. She really liked him, Alessa thought, as she felt him tense in her embrace. “Sorry kid,” she told him letting go, “That’s my Latin temperament, we South Americans like to hug.” She winked.
“Hey Alessa,” he blushed. *Why had I been so mean to her before? It’s ridiculous to think she is a bad ass.*
Turning his attention back to the set up, he finished the final preparations. On the coffee table lay the diary surrounded by a miscellaneous arrangement of strange objects: An incense burner, white and black candles, a pentacle and a bowl filled with sea water. “Ok, well everything is ready. There maybe a few flashy effects, but nothing to worry about,” Cole said before closing his eyes.
The young teen began to sway slowly back and forth, his hands moving hypnotically over the diary.
“Thoth, ruler of magic and wisdom, I come before your shrine as a humble seeker of truth. Let the veil between our worlds be parted, and unto me your knowledge be granted.”
Cole continued concentrating over the tome. His hands began to move quicker as he worked the spell, and his breath was becoming short and erratic. “Thoth, I beseech you,” he began again, his voice now seeming somewhat strained. “I ask that… uh oh.”
The two looked on confused as Cole’s body began to shiver uncontrollably. “Chance... help me.. AHHHHHHHHHH!” Suddenly Cole’s slight shaking grew into uncontrollable spasms, and was followed by an chilling cry of intense pain.
Chance swore and dived towards Cole, managing to direct his fall onto the sofa. The kid hit and sank into it, almost rolling off again, until Chance was able to keep him on. The spasming had already begun to calm down, and now he was only shaking.
“Alessa! Quick, water or something!” As she went running off, he turned back to the coffee table. He dumped the candles into the sea water and a greenish vapour steamed out. Turning to Cole, Chance saw the shakes had almost gone completely now. But he was very pale and sweating as well. “Cole? You ok? Cole?” The kid was unable to speak till Alessa arrived with the water. He took a big gulp.
*La Puta Madre!* swore Alessa as she ran towards the kitchen to get a glass of water, *Morris, what did you put in there?* When she got back the kid was no longer spasming but he trembled when he took the glass in his hands. Frowning she watched him closely. The shivers had subsided but he was still shaken.
“There was,” he paused a second, wincing again in pain, “some sort of protective curse. The bastard made it a really nasty one at that,” Cole said leaning back into the couch and closing his eyes for a second.
There was a moment of silence as Chance and Alessa watched on with great concern as the kid tried to get back some measure of composure. Finally, Cole opened his eyes again and his breathing returned to a semi-normal rhythm.
“I won't be able to decode it. Whatever is written there must be pretty damn important for someone to go through the trouble it would take to instill that defensive charm. I’m sorry you guys, I’m just not that strong.”
Alessa bit her lower lip, as she absently did when worried. She knew that Morris had been good with magic, but never suspected how good. A spell of this magnitude was much more than what she’d ever seen him doing. *Something important, indeed,* she thought.
“That’s what happens when you mess with magic.” Chance shook his head. “Still… worth a try, I guess. You did your best, Cole. That’s really all we could have asked for.”
“Yeah… but I feel bad I couldn’t have helped.”
“Hey, no problem. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we could get somebody else to take care of it, right?” He turned to Alessa for support, raising his eyebrows.
“Oh, yeah, absoloutely…” she trailed off and, although she put on a brave face for Cole, Chance knew her well enough that, even though he had only known her shortly, truly she wasn’t much pleased with the alternative.
“See? It’s no big. How you feeling?”
“Better, a whole lot better.”
“Great! Do you want anything?” Chance asked. Alessa poised to head to the kitchen.
“Ummm… actually… it would probably be better if I went home. I have some after-spell stuff I can use. Kinda like paracetemol on a hangover.”
“Sure. I’ll take you. Will you be ok to ride a bike?”
Cole nodded.
After the two men left, Alessa sat down on her sofa, holding the diary close to her heart. There was no doubt that there was something important there, and it was obvious now that they would have to go to Bibliophile if they wanted to know what it was.
Roughly thirty minutes later, Chance’s bike pulled to a stop in front of Cole’s apartment block. The building was old, really old, and it seemed like even the slightest wind could knock the whole thing down.
“This is it,” Cole said ashamedly as he got off the seat. “I’m a… I’m really sorry again Chance. I know how much it means for you to find the Elder.”
“It's ok, really Cole. Don’t worry about it. I’m just sorry about what happened back there. If I knew it was that dangerous, I never would have asked you to try.”
Cole was about to say bye and leave, but then stopped a second. “Chance, be careful ok? I know it may sound hokey or whatever, but I just get a feeling that things are going to get really dangerous.”
Chance smiled. "Things have been dangerous for me since I was younger than you. I'm sure I can handle it. And hey, if not, I do have you and Alessa backing me up, right?" He paused, and upon seeing Cole's concerned face went on. "Ok, I'll be careful."
Suspicious Minds
Thursday, 17th August 2006
The Eldridge Residence - Birch Street, Los Angeles
4:30pm
Galen was busy working when he heard the front door open. He was waiting for Kate to return from her visit to Bob’s but he wouldn’t let her know that. She was already running late by several hours. He didn’t know what that meant but he had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps he shouldn’t have had that leftover casserole for dinner.
He picked up another file and spread the papers out on the kitchen table. He knew what a threat the Brotherhood posed but he couldn’t help but be grateful that the amount of random vampire attacks and homicides had dropped significantly in the past two months.
Kate removed her coat and hung it up in the hall before making her way into the kitchen where Galen was working. He barely even lifted his eyes from the pile of papers as she entered the room. Kate sighed.
Galen’s eyes flickered in her direction for a brief moment before returning to his work. “So how was ’Bob’?” he asked disinterestedly.
“Much better. I think my work there is done.”
Galen shrugged and continued to sift through his paperwork. Kate frowned and stood across the table from him.
“You won’t believe what he told me…”
Again Galen feigned his disinterest, “I’m not interested in anything Bob has to say,” he replied curtly.
Kate smiled, “I think you will be. This is pretty big stuff.”
“Nope. Not interested. Where have you been anyway?” Galen suddenly couldn’t contain his curiosity. “You should have been home ages ago!” He grimaced and looked away; he hadn’t meant to sound so jealous. He wasn’t jealous, not of Bob anyway. He was just sick of there always being some apocalyptic crisis on the horizon. Sometimes he longed for a normal life.
The smile on Kate’s face faded at Galen’s accusational tone. “Bob needed a little persuasion so I spent the last few hours enacting the most perverse acts of sexual gratification to win him over.”
The pen Galen had been holding in hand dropped onto the table’s surface with a loud ‘CLANG’. Kate shook her head angrily.
“What the hell do you think I’ve been doing, Galen? Bob gave me a lead, I decided to go check it out. THAT’S ALL!”
Galen grabbed Kate’s hand apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I missed you, that’s all.” He smiled contritely and pulled her onto his lap. “What did Bob tell you?”
Kate smiled slightly; she had to admit that this recent jealous streak of Galen’s was beginning to bug the hell out of her. “Just something about an little inter-dimensional portal appearing out of nowhere in the middle of L.A.”
Galen shook his head clear, “A, a what??”
Kate got up from Galen’s lap and began to explain. “I decided to check out Bob’s story. He’d only heard a few rumours about a circle of stones set in a parking lot in Ventura on the Southeast side of L.A. But man, were those rumours spot on.”
Galen scratched his head. “But what makes you think Tash and Victor were involved?”
“Well think about it: Victor is a demon from another dimension, about a month ago a structure that reads as an inter-dimensional portal opens up in L.A. at just the same time that Tash and Victor go missing.”
“So, what? Tash and Victor went on a real extended honeymoon? I’m beginning to think they had the right idea…”
“I’m not so sure,” Kate looked thoughtful. “Well, you’re the detective!” she said teasingly as she sat on the kitchen table in front of him. “Tash and Victor go missing at the same time that this portal thingy is discovered. Not only that but I talked to some of the locals while I was down there and they remember seeing a car full of people causing havoc on the freeway because they were chasing, and I quote ‘a lunatic who’d decided to go for a walk down the middle of six lane traffic at rush hour’.”
Kate smiled in satisfaction, it had taken her a while to get those who had seen anything to open up to her but once they did they were incredibly loquacious. She’d even got a description of some of the people in the car. One definitely fitted the description of Tash. Another, a young, attractive blonde woman Kate could almost swear was that of Reanna Kossinton, the vampire hunter she’d met last year and fought against the basement monster with. The rest of the companions were Unknowns to her but Kate was certain this was the best lead she was going to get concerning the whereabouts of her missing friends.
“And it doesn’t end there either. There were several reports of weird purple lights in the sky and smoke signals. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it could be part of the whole ‘inter-dimensional portal’ theory. I was hoping to talk to Ardghal about it. He’s pretty knowledgeable about hell dimensions and the like…”
Galen ran his hand up Kate’s bare thigh contemplatively as she still sat on the table in front of him. He grinned up at her. “Maybe I should just hand my badge in now? You seem to have this thing sewn up.”
Kate leaned in and kissed Galen on the mouth. “Not quite,” she said pulling away. “If this whole dimension hopping theory IS correct then I still don’t know where they are. Theoretically they could be in any number of parallel or hell dimensions. And then there’s the problem of how we’re to get them back…”
“If that’s possible,” muttered Galen.
Kate suddenly slapped her forehead. “Of course!” She jumped down from the table in excitement. “The Stone of Ghortab! I can’t believe I missed it, I feel so stupid!”
“The what and the who?” said Galen in puzzlement. “What are you talking about now?"
“When Daye and Drew and I went to Tash and Victor’s apartment, I could sense that something was missing but I couldn’t for the life of me think of what it was…”
“The Stone of Ghortab? What the hell is that anyway?”
Kate grabbed the telephone handset and began to dial a number. “Some rock of Victor’s he brought it from his home dimension. But the point is that it was gone. That thing must have weighed close to a ton! It wouldn’t have just got up and walked out of there on its own.”
She was hoping to tell Daye about her findings but nobody picked up the phone on the other end. “Damn it!” Kate shouted in irritation. “Does nobody answer their telephone any more?”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday 10th August, 2006 - evening
Maggie rolled over in bed and realising it was empty except for her herself she sat up, yawning and stretching. Listening carefully, she opened her bedroom door and heard the shower stop. A door closed quietly, secretly. She launched herself out into the corridor, a smile spreading over her face. “James? James!”
Janey tilted her head curiously; stopped in her tracks on the way to the door, coat half on.
Maggie’s face fell. “Oh. But where’s..?”
The opening of another door interrupted her.
“JAMES!”
“Maggie, I - ” he started, but broke off as she kissed him passionately.
She put a finger on his lips. “Don’t – please don’t.”
James lifted her up, taking her to the sofa where they collapsed together. Grimacing, Janey fled. What she’d just seen she never wanted to see again. Ever. *Absolutely disgusting.*
Her mind returned instead to last night, and forward to tonight. Escaping the house to see her was the only thing keeping her going. Max-as-in-like-Maxine. A flickering constant light at the back of her mind.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
August 16th, mid afternoon
"Bowen…" Mantheana started. However, she was not sure this was totally a train of thought that she wanted to continue.
"Yeah?"
"Recent events have, vell… probably brought up a lot of questions for you." This was probably the understatement of the year, but Mantheana knew that. Your ex-lover's mysterious return was something that did happen in the normal world, but the precise details of her situation were not quite as normal as Mantheana would have liked.
"Um… yeah." It was true; Bowen was not being as articulate as he had been in the past. He did have a lot of questions, but he was not sure how far Mantheana was going to go with the details of her past.
"Vell, let's start with the basics. You are aware of the mythical and occult nature of the vorld now?"
"You mean like vampires?"
"Yeys… and like Jessica doing spells. But it goes a lot deeper. There are countless things in existence that most people write off as pure speculation or hallucination. Monsters and angels, white and black magics…" Mantheana trailed off. "I told you before, that I had a condition…"
"That’s why you're always so cold?"
"Among other things. Like vhy the sun hurts my skin. Vhen I vos twenty, only just, I vos at a party in Russia. My parents vere hoping to set me up vith some big title and a huge inheritance. Mind you, that is how things vere done then. The end result however, vas that I ran off vith a certain Mikhail Transki. I vos in love. At the time, I didn't care how this vould affect either my parents or myself. But I had never been vanted or desired. Not like I felt it there. And it was Mikhail who gave me the condition." Seeing Bowen's expressions she added quickly, "It is not contagious. But you do have to be given it… it is complicated."
"What about Maria?"
"Maria is normal. She does not have the condition. At first I was surprised, but I could feel the heat, even when she vos inside me. She is beautiful…" Mantheana's eyes shone with maternal pride, the kind of unfaltering love which only a mother can produce to wrap her daughter in. "That is the irony, I suppose. After being the cause of my longing to destroy myself, he gave me something that made me move on and grow…" She shivered. "I hope he's gone. If he leaves us then ve can be happy again."
Mantheana donned a brave smile. She squeezed Bowen's hand, and felt the heat pulse through her pale and thinning skin. Happy again.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday, 17th August 2006 – 8pm
Night had fallen and outside the air was still. It seemed as if the world knew what was to come and it remained still in silent horror. Yet in the walled garden of a once abandoned hotel jasmine flowered, perfuming the air with its heady scent. Beneath the jasmine’s roots lay an open space. Its walls, floor and ceiling of concrete were lit by numerous torches and a small electric furnace. Cut into the floor was a perfectly circular groove. It bounded a space ten metres in diameter in the very centre of which lay two large bolts.
Adjacent to that room was a less medieval-looking one. It looked more like an indoor swimming pool. Dim lights reflected in lines around the arched walls of the room. In the shallow end of the pool a young woman stood defiantly in the chest-high water. Her arms and legs were chained to enormous iron balls, each of them no less than a half-metre in diameter. She walked slowly in a circle, cautious to avoid the edges of the pool where bumpy-faced vampires waved stun guns and wooden stakes at her.
"Where is your Slayer power?" they chided. To one side an attractive oriental woman and a handsome man sat on chaise lounges. The man stood up and surprised one particularly eager vampire by booting him into the pool.
The woman was slowed by the weight and water but not stopped. Even three days of standing in this pool hadn’t quite sapped all her strength. She powered forward and wrapped a chain around the splashing vampire's neck. She straightened the chain turning the poor victim into so much dirty water.
The other vampires pushed at her and threatened to pull her into the deep end and she went back to her slow pacing in the centre of the shallow end. The handsome man sat back down, "Don't forget, boys, she is the stuff of your nightmares for a reason."
The oriental woman looked over at the handsome man, "Mr. Harper, that was both flamboyant and excessive. Our masters will not be pleased."
He shrugged his shoulders, "They don't inventory these guys; there is more where they came from," he said flippantly.
"And more where you come from, Harper," came a voice dripping with the menace and power that accompanies an Elder vampire.
Harper stood and lowered his eyes, "Valerian, I meant no disrespect."
Valerian dismissed him with a wave, "Harper, you reek of disrespect. Where is your master?"
"He is making final preparations for," Harper glanced towards the girl, "the ritual."
Valerian’s smile became icy. "That is what he is doing, Harper. I asked where he is."
Harper blinked, his thoughts suddenly scattered. The man's head lolled backwards and Nicholas' voice echoed from his mouth, "I am upstairs Valerian, the second floor. I'm sure you're quite capable of finding the room."
"Very well." The elder vampire surveyed the room once more, bestowing a smile upon the young woman in the water before turning and leaving Harper to surreptitiously wipe drool from his chin.
Yu stared at Harper balefully. "Your disrespect will get you killed and should you raise my master’s ire Nicholas will not protect you."
Harper grinned and settled back into his seat. He indicated the corpse floating in the deep end face-first in the water, "Beats Johnson's situation."
Valerian exited the elevator at the lobby level where Krispin was in the lobby painting the floor with an arcane symbol. Valerian stopped to admire the handiwork when he bent down and touched the red substance Krispin was using. "Paint?" he asked, "I thought it called for blood."
Krispin sat back on his haunches, "It does, but this symbol is very dangerous, complex, volatile, and capable of costing all four of us our immortal lives. I thought I'd practice it first."
Valerian smirked, "I just checked on the girl. She's pretty. But then again they are all pretty aren't they?"
Krispin snorted, "I don't care if she could kill a horse with a stare. She's clearly the Slayer, that’s all that is important."
He looked at Valerian, "And she is so important I'll be watching your hands throughout the ritual. If you so much as stroke, caress, or kiss that child I'll hack off your hand."
Dathan laughed from the darkened alcove he was lurking in, "Can't we just behead him instead? I want to breathe his ash."
Valerian shivered in spite of himself. They would not have much time to complete this ritual before their very natures betrayed their truce and they fell onto each other like animals. Long association had sharpened their loathing for each other.
If the rewards of this particular venture were not so great they would not have even begun to attempt it. Valerian left Krispin with Dathan's rumbling laughter rolling out behind him and ascended the stairs to confer with Nicholas.
The once-magnificent staircase now bore the marks of much use and long neglect. Valerian swept up them, imaging the splendour this hotel must once have seen and remembering with fondness the elaborate parties he’d thrown when he, himself, lived in the era during which it had been built. Such times would soon pale to insignificance once tonight was over. He shivered with anticipation at how he imagined that rush of power would feel.
Nicholas was upstairs in his room, the box before him as he dressed with slow meticulous care. He was so full of anticipation that his very skin tingled. At last, the time was upon them. In a few short hours, The Brotherhood would be transformed.
Small sounds issued from one of the guest rooms along the hallway, and Valerian pushed open the door to see Nicholas standing with his back to the door, hovering over a wooden box. The lid was open but with Nicholas in the way Valerian couldn’t see the contents. He knew what the box contained, however.
He leaned casually against the doorframe and said, “Moths haven’t got into the shroud yet, I trust?”
Nicholas didn't bother to turn at the sound of Valerian's voice. Of course he'd been aware of the other vampire's approach, and part of him wanted to whirl around at the first sound of Valerian's footsteps in the hall. The bond they all shared was an uneasy one and there was every reason to expect to be greeted by one of his ‘brothers’ wielding a wooden stake at any time. Nicholas was not unaware of the dangerous undercurrents in which they all trod, but he cultivated the image of the dedicated fool. It was better for him if the others underestimated him on every level. Things were easier that way.
"All is as it should be," Nicholas replied, choosing to ignore the teasing nature of Valerian's remark. "Very soon we can begin. Perhaps it would be wise to send the childer from the ritual space soon. Safer, I mean to say."
“Yes, soon they need to be gone. I always find it ironic how much we need each other for this, yet how little we trust each other, or indeed our own progeny. For instance, look at the lengths Krispin went to in order to satisfy himself about that surprise bastard child of his – what’s his name?”
“I believe he styles himself as ‘Ripper’.”
“Hmm, yes. Ripper.” Valerian rolled the name around his tongue. “Interesting how he turned up in this city just at the point where we’ve chosen which of our progeny share in this gift. Still, Krispin says he’s vouched for the lad, and that he’s not to be run out of LA.”
“Krispin may have vouched for him, but I don’t like it. He wasn’t among those chosen,” Nicholas grumbled.
Valerian stepped into the room, standing close by Nicholas. “Fear not, my brother. Soon we shall have everything we have worked so hard for. Then we can all go our separate ways – after we’ve trained our new child, of course.”
Nicholas nodded distractedly. He still didn't look at Valerian. Nicholas knew it galled the other vampire to be ignored, and he took perverse pleasure in doing so.
"Trust?" he repeated, his tone musing. "Surely you realized those like us have no room to trust anyone. That shall be even more true soon enough. If you think it's hard to trust now, just wait until you are a god, my brother."
Valerian smirked, “And that process should begin in but a few hours. Until it is complete, we must trust one another, for we all stand to gain from this. Now, I’m here to determine that all is ready.” He gestured to the box before them. “Is it?”
Nicholas finally deigned to give Valerian a look, a look of utter contempt. "Do you doubt it?" he asked, haughtily. "This is something I know a bit about, Valerian. The ritual is ready to begin at the appointed time."
“Good. I will see you at moonrise, then.” Valerian whirled and left the room, striding back down the staircase.
In the lobby, Krispin was standing back, surveying the symbol he had drawn. He glanced up at Valerian’s approach. “I think it’s perfect.”
“It better be,” rumbled Dathan from his alcove, “or we’re all dust.”
Valerian let his mouth curl in a half-smile. “I’m sure Krispin is well aware of that. He’s got just as much to lose – and to gain – as the rest of us. I’m sure he’ll be careful.”
Written by: Robin, Dave, Kris and Heather.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Friday, 18th August 2006 – 1:11am (moonrise)
The courtyard smelled sweet with the jasmine in the moonlight. Beneath the rich earth that filled the walled garden, the torches flickered on the bare concrete floor and the depression in the centre of the small room.
A figure appeared at the doorway. Dressed in his ceremonial robes, Krispin led the way into the room, carrying a small wooden box. Behind him came Valerian and Nicholas also in their robes, flanking the weakened and now-drugged Slayer who stumbled between them. Valerian held one of her elbows, a chalice cradled in his other hand. Nicholas likewise held her other elbow, a shroud draped over his free arm. The Slayer’s robes had been carefully arranged by some of the Elders’ followers before they’d been relegated to guard duty at various points in and around the hotel. At the rear of the procession, ducking his head to fit through the doorway, came the imposing figure of Dathan. In his hands he bore a long, sharp knife.
Valerian and Nicholas led Ellie to the center of the room and laid her down inside the depression. Then each of them took up a post in one corner. Dathan approached Krispin first, using the athame he held to make a shallow cut in Krispin's wrist. Krispin opened the box and allowed his blood to flow into the rich, dark earth held within. After a few moments, the flow of blood stopped and Dathan moved on to Valerian. He repeated this step with each of the others in turn, finishing with himself.
When the blood of the four elders had been mixed with their own grave dirt, Dathan returned the box to Krispin and took up his place in one corner of the room. Krispin moved to the center of the room and began to draw the intricate circle around the prone body of The Slayer. As he worked, Krispin and the others began a low, melodic chant.
Krispin moved slowly, carefully applying the thick mixture with a brush. The chanting rose and fell around him, his own voice adding to the complexity as he wove counterpoint through the melody. All four felt the energy levels rise in the room. The Slayer’s hair began to crackle as though with electricity as Krispin steadily added each new layer of the symbol that surrounded her.
Then Krispin sat back on his haunches, though he continued to chant with the others. He stood and took his own place in the remaining corner of the room. The elaborate circle was complete, and the power felt right. He could smell it. Excitement rose in Krispin. This was going to work!
The four stood, facing the Slayer at the centre of the room as they continued to chant, the tone rising and falling, melody following counterpoint. They remained that way for some hours, letting the power build. It was an old power, ancient and terrible, and required loving handling for it to come out right.
Suddenly, at the same instant, all four vampires ceased chanting. Something had told them that this was it. The magic had crescendoed. Time for the next step. Dathan moved toward the Slayer, the athame held out before him. He cut delicately, making shallow incisions at each of her wrists and ankles in turn. Valerian moved behind him with his chalice, catching the drops of precious fluid as they fell until the chalice was nearly brimming.
Once the chalice was full, Valerian withdrew from within the folds of his robe a perfectly formed white rose. He carefully plucked four delicate petals from the rose and dropped them into the goblet. Valerian placed the cup near Ellie's prone body and took up his place near the circle. All four of the vampires stood beside the Slayer's body, one at each limb. They once again began to chant, weaving mystical energies to infuse the rose petals with the blood and imbue each petal with a share of the power they sought.
As before, when the time was right, each of them knew it. Valerian took up the chalice again and, moving with infinite care, he pulled a petal from within, now stained a deep red. He approached Krispin first, who stood at the Slayer's right hand. Krispin bent forward and Valerian placed the rose petal in the other vampire’s mouth, in a sick parody of the communion ritual. Krispin leaned back, eyes closed as he consumed the petal. He left his eyes closed as Valerian brought the warm lip of the chalice to Krispin's mouth. Krispin's body filled with power as the Slayer's blood coursed over his tongue. His "sacrament" complete, Krispin waited as each of his brothers followed in turn, until at last Valerian consumed the final rose petal and finished off the blood.
Valerian took a clean, white linen from within his robe and wiped the chalice clean, before placing it within the circle. He then returned to his place, at the Slayer's left hand.
The four vampires looked at each other from the four corners of the Slayer. They all felt it – that warm tingling glow that indicated they were open. Ready. The strength of the Slayers would be theirs. Now, every time a Slayer died they would gain some of that power. The potential was intoxicating. As one, they crouched and lifted the limb they each stood by.
Krispin took the Slayer’s right wrist delicately in his hand, Valerian her left wrist. Nicholas grasped her right foot, exposing the recent cut on her ankle, and Dathan gathered her left ankle in his meaty paw. As one they bent their heads and began to drink. The Slayer’s rich blood filled their veins, the headiest draught any of them had ever taken. It made their bodies sing with the ecstasy of it.
The Slayer grew pale, then paler still. Her breath fluttered, paused, stopped. Then the four placed her limbs back on the ground and, starting with Krispin they each held their wrists to her mouth in turn, forcing blood down her throat. Nicholas went next then Valerian took his turn. The sensation of her drinking of his blood was almost as stimulating as when he’d drunk hers and it was with difficulty that Valerian pulled free, allowing Dathan to take the final place. As Dathan's blood flowed into her open mouth, the Slayer drank greedily. All four of them were filled with exultation. They had done it. They had turned the Council's precious Slayer.
When Dathan stepped away, it began. They each felt the questing source of the Slayer’s power roiling through them. They felt invigorated, strong, unstoppable. Alive. It sniffed at them, deciding whether they were worthy, and finding them not soon left to go on to all the other potentials and once-potentials. But its sojourn in their bodies altered it somehow. It reached Jess and passed through her. She cried, for she knew it meant that Ellie was dead and that her search for the girl was now over. But there was that sense of wrongness. The power was sullied, had been tainted. It gave her strength, as before, but now it also made her sick. She rushed from the room and threw up noisily, crying all the while for her lost charge.
In the ritual room the vampires gazed at one another, their eyes shining. “That was better than anything I’ve ever felt before,” Nicholas whispered.
He pulled himself together and came forward, laying The Master's death shroud over the Slayer’s body. He lifted the girl gently and began to wrap her tightly. Their power was now tied to the turned Slayer. So long as she remained “alive” the four Elders and all of their progeny would continue to gain the power surge as each new Slayer died. The others watched, silent, until he had the girl completely enshrouded. Nicholas bent and picked her up in his arms. The remaining steps of this ritual were his and his alone. They had to be performed in the courtyard above in the light of the newly risen sun. The others would now go to their rests.
Written by: Kris and Heather, with idea contributions from Robin and Dave.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Saturday 19th August, 2006 – 2:07am (moonrise)
Black.
No, not black. It was so stygian it was more than a mere absence of light. The dark pressed down on her like a physical thing, threatening to suffocate her. Except…
She felt no need for air, she realised. In fact, she didn’t think she’d ever felt better, not even when she’d been called as the Slayer. Other sensations began to impinge on her consciousness. She was lying flat on her back, for one thing, and for another when she tried to move she found she was bound tight. Not tied, though. It felt like those nights when, as a kid, she’d woken with the sheets tangled around her body.
The last thing she noticed was the thirst. The terrible, raging thirst. It was this that ultimately made her stir herself, to tear her arms free of their entrapment and to push against the close ceiling of this tiny space. Her fingers found not wood, but dirt, and she finally realised where she was. Not under a floor or in a small cupboard, as she initially supposed.
She was buried.
The thirst fuelling her on, she clawed and dug with vigour, the exhaustion of the last few days gone from her limbs. Earth fell in on her in clods, landing on her face, chest and stomach, but doggedly she persisted, nails cracking and splitting with the effort. Eventually her perseverance paid off and the struggle grew easier as she reached the surface. A hole appeared a couple of feet above her supine body and she lifted her torso to better excavate herself. The scent of jasmine wafted into her nostrils as she felt the crisp night air. But she felt no cold. Just that thirst.
After some minutes of scraping at the earthen walls that enclosed her she rose from that tomb, remnants of a shroud still tangled around her legs and torso. Although the moon was just risen and was barely more than a crescent, its brightness caused her to blink with the suddenness of that light after the gloom of her grave. As she focused on the figures before her, one of the four stepped forward and offered her his hand to complete her emergence from the tomb.
“Welcome to our world, Ellie,” said Nicholas.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Day Five – G’rnatha
Midday
The interior of the Temple was neither bright nor dark. Whitish light seemed to filter in through the walls from all angles leaving few shadows. The stones that hovered in the air all contained strange writing that somehow seemed to speak to them. Eyes wandered and examined the surroundings. Even Victor stood in awe of the place.
"I haven't been to church in... ever," mumbled Alice from behind, "And I am not going to start now. Victor, hun, how do we start this machine?"
Victor shook his head, "I have no idea, I was hoping that it would tell me." He strolled up the long promenade to the back of the building. All anyone could see were hundreds of yards of hovering stones, marked with cryptic runes, which bobbed slightly as if floating on unseen water.
Darian's purple eyes grew wide in amazement as he gazed at the bizarre scene unfolding around the group. "Think Z'thrukaht will pop in and maybe give us a little clue of what we're supposed to do now?"
The fae's comment went somewhat unnoticed since most were too awestruck to realize he had even opened his mouth. "Well, if we're not going to get any guidance, we may as well start trying to figure it out ourselves," he said, not knowing if anyone was actually listening.
An ethereal voice wafted through the temple at Darian's words. "Guidance does not usually come to those who sit idly and speculate; or to those who evade obligations; or to those who, having started, hesitate and stop. Guidance comes to those who, knowing they are on the road to duty, have a single-minded purpose to pursue it to the end."
Six pairs of eyes stared around, searching for the source of that voice. As the group looked around the room, Nikolai was wondering at the fact that the disembodied voice had spoken Russian to him. Like the aliens actually had a clue as to his language.
"Not again," he muttered, getting odd looks from people. He gestured in one direction. "It's another glowing stone."
Reah stopped looking around for the source of the voice and let her eyes follow along the direction Nikolai's arm was pointing to, "Hm! Interesting. Sooo... What now? We go home?" she asked no one in particular, "I know that's my single-minded purpose to pursue to the end."
Tash wandered closer to some of the Stones that hung suspended in mid-air near her. All the slabs she could see were different shapes, but all were roughly the same size overall. And all of them bore strange symbols that she couldn't read, very like the ones on Victor's own Stone. As she approached one, it began to glow softly and a different, slightly higher-pitched ethereal voice dropped tones like tinkling water into the air.
“Life is not measured in accomplishment but in feelings. A small accomplishment can make you feel wonderful and a large accomplishment can make you feel as if you are worthless. True greatness is revealed by how you treat those who have no power or ability to do you any favour."
She glanced around at the others, and the looks on their faces indicated that they had heard that one as clearly as she had.
Alice cocked her head and mused, "Let's see what I get in my lucky dip."
Alice reached out and brushed her fingertips over another Stone and was rewarded with a third voice that intoned, "You may believe that all is pre-determined. It may seem more likely than chaos, accident and chance. Predestination is incompatible with choice. Choice means one can alter one's destiny by selecting from among alternatives."
"Great," Alice muttered, "the collected sayings of an insane God. Just what we needed."
Nikolai stepped forward, his hand held out uncertainly. The messages seemed to have some effect on the person who touched each Stone, and he wasn't sure what his would say to him. He reached out hesitantly to touch the Stone, and heard the voice speaking in his head.
“Isolation tends to produce a narrow environment and view of life. In such an environment you are likely to lose perspective, magnify trifles, and sow strife. It is vital that you broaden your horizons, deepen your consciousness, and take steps to keep growing.” He slowly shook his head afterwards, baffled.
Reah followed in the rest of the party’s examples, reaching out to touch the Stone floating closest to her: "Technology is a crutch for the lazy, the greedy, and the powerful. Technology is a companion to the scientist, the artist and the explorer. Technology is the nemesis of truth, nature and beauty. Technology is the ally of violence, ignorance, and destruction."
"Not sure what I think of these stones any more," Reah sniffed indigently. "Can we move on already?"
The tagalong Battle Fiends looked around in confusion. They looked for all the world like small children waiting to be told what to do next. They began to wander among the Stones and reached up to touch them, triggering more wisdoms. The effect of these wisdoms on the Battle Fiends was amazing. They took the Stones into their arms almost tenderly and carried them back to the wall through which they had entered and stood there staring at it.
Victor looked at them with sympathy, "I did just that when I was here the first time."
He strolled around the room and Stones wobbled in his passing as if he were leaving a wake behind him. He was far into the temple when he hollered back, "Hey look at this!"
The others hastened to join him. A large Stone, a scaled-up brother to the smaller stones, stood before them. It resembled the smaller stones in all ways, but with one exception. Its face was smooth and polished with no mark of runes upon it. "I can feel it calling to me," Victor said clearly but flatly, "I know it wants me to touch it."
"So touch it," Darian replied. "It’s not like we have much to lose."
Reah burst out in laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls, before slapping her hand over her mouth. Muttering apologies, she stepped closer for better look, suppressing her snickers.
Victor's laughter, though less exuberant, joined hers. It had been so stressful, so dangerous, and now in this silent and strange place, so alien here, that he had forgotten the feeling of mirth. It took off the worry and the razor-edged stress and let him think. "I don't think I should just answer every urge that comes along if I am offered a choice to not obey. If it were important enough, Ghortab would have made it mandatory, like returning here in the first place."
Tash looked from the blank Stone to Victor and then back to that eerie edifice. She mimicked the voice that had issued from Alice's Stone. "Choice means one can alter one's destiny by selecting from among alternatives." She gazed up at her friend and her lover. The one with whom she wanted to live out her days.
“You weren't given a choice in coming here, but you've had a choice ever since. I think that was part of Ghortab's plan. He needs someone who is willing to make the right choice when the time comes." She clasped his hand tightly, heedless of the sharp talons that dug into her palms. "And I will always be here to support you in your choices, my love."
Victor looked down into the glistening eyes of the human woman he had given his heart to. The woman without whom he would not have realized how much life meant to him. The woman who had agreed to stay with him until death parted them. And behind him was the siren's call of a Stone that meant many more lives than the two of theirs.
"Tash, I know you would support me doing anything, right or wrong. You have been a pillar that has held me when I have been weak and helpless. You have been my guiding light when forces have drawn me into darkness. I think you know what I have to do. Love me, so that all of my people can know what it is to be loved forever..."
"Does it have to be this way?" Tash whispered.
"The way our lives go, it will be and you know it. Hope is only for those that need it. All we ever needed was love. And that will be with both of us forever."
Silent tears streamed down Tash's face as she reached up and touched Victor's true face and gazed into those glowing red eyes. This moment was something she'd suspected when she first learned what Victor's purpose was here on G'rnatha, but she'd kept the knowledge buried until now.
"I'll always love you, Victor."
Victor hugged her tight and continued to hold her as he extended a hand towards the Stone. He could feel her tears running down his armor and could smell the sorrow in her shallow breaths. As his hand contacted the featureless surface runic letters began to transcribe in rows upon the Stone and to Tash's eyes the essence that was Victor began to drain from his aura. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly so she would not have to watch, but the gift that allowed her to see inside was still showing her Victor's transformation into the template that would become the genesis of a new race.
The Stone completed its transcription and the G'rnathan Battle Fiend that had been Victor stood there idly awaiting instruction, its arms now fallen limply by its side.
Tash stood back from the Battle Fiend she was hugging, not daring to look at it, knowing she'd see no aura at all in that soulless husk. The light from the Stone played over her face but she could not even look at that, instead sinking to her knees on the floor of the temple and letting the tears fall as they may.
"Oh my God," Darian said barely above a whisper.
Reah stood frozen stiff as she watched the display. She could only take an educated guess at what had just transpired, but refused to think about it. Instead, a sole tear trickled from her natural tear duct below her cybernetic eye as she wandered over to crouch by Tash, hugging her supportively. No words came to Reah that could even remotely comfort herself, let alone her friend. Crouching there she stared blankly at the immobile Battle Fiend that was once her good friend and as all thoughts surpassed her mind, she closed her eyes...
...and they sprung right back open, "What the..?" Reah muttered as she stood from Tash. She spun her gaze around wildly as strange scripture suddenly scrolled across her vision. *Ok, since when were there sub-titles in Grr'land?* Reah shrugged her shoulders, adjusting to the discovery of something she'd long since thought she'd never experience again.
Alice watched as Tash bore Reah's hug without reaction, even when Reah jumped back with a start. Ignoring Reah's silently moving mouth and odd look of concentration, Alice eyed Tash speculatively. She moved over to take Reah's place beside the stricken woman and squatted beside her. A part of her felt hollowed out at the loss of one she'd called friend for a millennia and she could only imagine what Tash must be feeling. Saying nothing, Alice placed an arm gently around Tash's shoulder and joined her in silent mourning.
Without warning the Battle Fiends in the temple all stopped dead in their tracks. The ones near the back wall gently set their Stones back where they had come from and walked purposefully towards the huddled party. Reah’s heads-up display began to stream words across her vision. “Reah… Reah… Let them lead you out of the temple. Hurry… there isn’t much time.”
The Battle Fiends operated in orchestrated harmony, carrying and pulling as needed to guide the group to the featureless wall they had entered through. While they were still some distance from it, the wall suddenly grew a hole that was big enough for a truck. Outside there was an ocean of bright green slime cascading out of the top of the factory and running down all sides. The Battle Fiends surrounding the Temple were dancing and laughing and fighting like demons and not like robots, to defend their right to live.
Reah's retinal readout flickered, "Goodbye," before going blank once again. Reah's smile was sad as she took one last glance behind her, before rounding everyone up and letting the Battle Fiends herd them towards that opening. *Have a good one, mate.*
The six fiends began to run towards the temple entrance. Within the rank and file of the G’rnathan armies perhaps three of every five of the Battle Fiends were countering the actions of their brothers. In the air, Monitors swooped and flitted in playful circles or were ramming hard into the ground trying to defend themselves.
Through Tash's numbed senses she slowly realised that she was being carried. The temple wall was before her and a large hole had opened, showing scenes of joy and battle mixed together. "No!" She struggled to free herself from the Battle Fiend that held her firmly in its grip, reaching back towards the Stone at the back of the temple that now glowed with a rich golden light. "I want to stay with him," she sobbed.
The Battle Fiend that held her was relentless, however, and even as the others were ushered out the gate, so too was Tash carried over that threshold. As she reached the outside she once more felt the thought net, that had been cut off from her within the temple walls. And a familiar presence bathed her mind.
“Be strong, my love. Be strong. A part of you will grow and flourish on this world, and a part of me will travel back to my adopted home with you. You and I were one. You and I are forever one.”
The opening in the wall shimmered, the interior of the temple fading from view as the white walls once more grew solid, and Victor's comforting voice was cut off from Tash, forever.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday, 10th August 2006
Janey slept restlessly in the crypt, the sounds of her sister sobbing in her empty bedroom next door echoing around her head. She felt guilty, betrayed. And she realised she preferred the sound of Maggie’s giggles to this. Strange, but also strangely inevitably true. The milk of human kindness becomes a murky kind of blood for vampire-kind. With dead things floating on the scum on top. Dead and congealed things.
Well, she thought as she strode down the dark underground passages, what do you really expect if you insist on living in the sewers? Not that she was really doing much of the insisting herself. Frowning she kicked a dead rat out of her squelchy path and glared over her shoulder. No vengeful twin haunted her footsteps, but she might as well have done; the watery shadows made Janey’s stomach lurch in horror. Also strange, but strangely inevitably true for a girl who was afraid of the dark before her after-life kicked in.
Hurrying her pace and abandoning any pretence at playing it cool, she sped down the sewers and out into moonlit streets. It wasn’t as if she had anything to fear from the dark - being turned had made her easily the scariest thing out there, but there was something about the darkness itself.
The way Romeo must have felt about Juliet - too dangerous, beautiful and delicate to be entirely of this world; to be entirely safe. Night is a deadly lover; flattering, it covers all the unsavoury aspects light is so keen to expose, but it is suffocating, possessive. Janey and Maggie had belonged to the night for a long time now - they knew what it was to be lulled into comfort by a blackly velveteen touch, a whisper against their face, to wake to find themselves abandoned to hungry screaming daylight. If darkness is dangerous then it is nothing compared to the bright neon brilliance of day - see, humans live in the day, and look at them. At least insane vampires are into regular stuff - torture, blood etc. Who knew what insane humans are into?
Thinking such worrying thoughts, Janey slowed down, trying to reason with herself. Nothing scary out there. Just -
“ARRRG!”
Something humongous, something misshapen, something.... something very familiar collided with Janey.
“Sheeeit! You watch where you goin’ there!”
Janey peered into the dim light of the constant neon glow of L.A. “Max?”
“Who askin’?”
“As-in-like-Maxine?”
Max looked curiously at her small assailant. “Yeah?” she queried.
Janey coughed. “Well - I - you prob’ly don’t -”
White teeth flashed into the darkness. “Yeah, I remember cho.”
Janey brightened. “Really?”
“Yeah, you the drunken piece o’ shit bouta get youself killed realll ugly.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s me.”
Easily, naturally, they fell into an uneven step. “So what you doin’ out this ungodly hour? Ain’t you mama worried? You ain’t lookin’ to get youself killed again?”
“Not today,” said Janey conversationally.
“Shit. Coz, y’know I got a real aggression problem and thumping you right now might sort a few of my issues.”
Janey frowned concernedly. “Really? Shouldn’t you get some kind of therapy for that kinda stuff?”
Max was bemused. “Why?”
“So they can say how losing your teddy bear when you were five made you a psycho killer.”
“Wow. Y’know, I don‘t think I ever had no teddy bear.”
“There you are then.”
Sitting down in the bar, Max drained her fourth drink. “I’m not really a psycho killer. I mean, that shit just part time y’know.”
Janey nodded sagely.
“But the shit about the aggression problem... now that’s a bit of an issue for me right now.”
“Yeah.” Janey nodded again, and then found she couldn’t stop her head bobbing on the end of her neck. Max looked up at her from the bottom of her glass, then down again, and then back. The chuckle swelled up inside her, bubbled up and gurgled in the back of her throat.
Janey tried desperately to stop her head shaking, but Max’s dark laugh rolled across her like syrup - it was contagious. Leaning into each other they laughed, long and hard, and it was only when Max’s own hilarity died away she realised Janey wasn’t laughing but crying.
Or crying with laughter. Whatever it was, it involved tears.
“Ohhh, it’s okay little one,” she comforted awkwardly. “Life’s never that bad.”
Janey hiccupped, shrugging away from Max’s hand. “No, don’t worry, I’m just... just drunk.” Then she looked curiously, properly, at her drinking companion for the first time.
Max exuded an air of being large, an impressive presence (impressive, and just a little bit scary). She could take up a room with her sense of person, but Janey realised she was tiny. Delicately boned and standing at most at about 5’0. Life’s never that bad.
Max stared right back at Janey, and she suddenly felt awkward, blushing down at her feet. But if -?
“How about you?”
“Me? Well, I’m -”
“Y’know - jobs’n’all.”
“Oh!” Janey was flooded with relief, her sense of confusion briefly put to the back of her mind.
“You said the other day...”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. You spouting a heapa shit bout being an Aztec princess.”
“Ah. Right. Yeah, don’t worry I was just -”
“Drunk?”
“Yeah.”
Max stared sceptically back.
Janey felt herself flushing and looked away again. “I speak a load of rubbish when I’m -”
“Drunk?”
“Yeah.”
Max smiled broadly and swung herself down from her chair. “Yeah. I bet. And most of that shit's truer than anyone realises, huh?”
Janey opened her mouth to protest but the words didn’t come.
“See y’round then, Miss Princess.”
And it was only when Max was long gone that Janey realised she’d left an extensive tab to be settled.
And that was a month ago, and Janey still wasn’t sleeping well, echoey vision of that sharp smile haunting her dreams.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Saturday, 26th August 2006 – 4pm
Marseilles, France
The Slayer hurried to her Watcher’s training facility, knowing she was late and that he’d be angry with her. She could almost hear him now, ”Josephine, you’ve just become the Slayer. Your responsibilities are now a hundred-fold; a thousand-fold what they were. You must apply yourself.” Grimacing, she rushed through the door that led to the hall, breathlessly muttering her apologies before she noticed the smell of blood in the air.
Her eyes widened when she saw Henri lying on the floor, his head twisted at an unnatural angle. Blood still seeped from the body and the smell of death was fresh. She spun about, frantically trying to sense the intruder who had done this terrible deed, who had killed her Watcher.
A shot rang out, the bullet grazing her head and she fell to her knees. Blood began to pour down her face from the burning wound, and she looked up in time to see a man approach her with gun in hand. She held up a hand to ward off the blow, but a second shot rang out and Josephine was no more. She had been Slayer for eight days.
*****
It was early morning in Los Angeles, barely seven, when the four Elders snapped up their heads. They and all their children who had been in Los Angeles last week for the ritual felt the rush of power. Valerian grinned. He’d expected their next rush wouldn’t be until they’d found the new girl themselves and started their killing spree of Slayers. This – this was a bonus. The power surged through him, leaving him invigorated.
“Oh, yes,” he murmured. “Yes, I want more.”
Ellie looked up from where she was practising sword forms and watched with puzzlement as Valerian’s body seemed to fill with light and life. She wondered what it was he was feeling, exactly. And why she felt nothing.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Wednesday, 30th August 2006 – 9:15am
Budapest, Hungary
Tizane had been in the library for an hour already, reading the books her Watcher had told her she needed to know in order to understand her new role as the Slayer. She’d been found when she was very young and had spent all her life preparing for this, and wanted to be out there doing the Slayer’s job. But her Watcher had insisted that she continue to expand her mind as well as her physical skills. So she studied.
The library door opened and she glanced up, surprised to see that the man who entered was not her Watcher. “May I help you?” she asked as he approached.
He leant on the table and looked around, a slightly confused look in his eye. “I’m sorry, miss. I appear to have come in the wrong door,” the man replied. “Sorry to disturb you.”
He turned and left the room and Tizane went back to her reading, shaking her head. Two minutes later the explosive device he’d placed under her table ignited, and Tizane entered Watcher records as one of the most short-lived Slayers of all time.
*****
“It’s midnight,” Ellie grumbled, “and I’m hungry.”
She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, listening to Krispin drone on about the history of The Brotherhood, though she suspected he was leaving out all the best bits. The fencing lessons with Valerian had been much more exciting, in her opinion. And she was so hungry she could practically smell the fresh blood. She imagined it coursing down her throat, hot and sweet with the tang of fear that spiced it when the human realised they were about to die hideously.
Krispin’s cane thumped into the floor with a crash, startling the inattentive Ellie. “You will listen while I instruct you, child,” he said with quiet menace. “All of the training we are providing you is necessary if you wish to survive the next several centuries. We fully intend that you will endure for a long, long time, but if you do not wish to participate in your own survival we have other, less pleasant ways of ensuring your continued existence.”
Ellie looked contrite and arranged her features in an expression of conscientiousness, while Krispin resumed his exposition. “Now, as I was saying, Dathan shares a sire with The Master. I know all you Slayers learn of him, at least,” Krispin’s voice sounded bitter. “Valerian and I were sired by The Master directly, and Nicholas by Dathan. So if you wish to think of it in human terms, Valerian and I are Dathan’s nephews, and Nicholas his son. And you, my child…”
He suddenly stopped speaking and gasped in pure pleasure. Once more Ellie watched, not sure what was happening to Krispin, but knowing that it was the same thing she’d seen in Valerian four days ago.
Krispin blinked slowly after a minute, his limbs shaking with the after-effects. “Oh my. Someone is doing us a great favour, it seems.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday, 5th September 2006 – 8:30pm
Osaka, Japan
Kikuyo could barely believe it had been only a week since she had felt the call of the Slayer reside in her. The initial nausea had passed quickly and now she secretly revelled in the feeling of new strength. Outwardly, however, she remained very proper – a quiet student and a demure Slayer. Until such times as this, when she faced an actual vampire. The beast’s remains fell in a cloud around her and she allowed herself a small grin of triumph, a rare outward sign of the satisfaction she felt. She could hardly wait to return to her Watcher and relate the kill to her – matter of factly, naturally.
She whirled, her senses honed, as a shadow approached. She relaxed a little – this was a human. But only a little. Miss Saito had warned her of a rumour she’d heard that the last two Slayers had not died of supernatural means, but mundane. The man drew closer, and seemed to be nothing more than a drunkard out walking in the evening air. Kikuyo shrugged and turned to go report to her Watcher, then gasped and staggered, staring in disbelief at the dagger that protruded from her chest.
Before she fell to the ground, Kikuyo saw Miss Saito emerge from a hiding place and come running towards her. Thoughts of her impending death were incongruously overshadowed by the thought that Miss Saito hadn’t trusted her to be out alone and had been spying on her. She dimly heard her Watcher calling her name, and heard Miss Saito gasp.
“You!”
Kikuyo tried to see who Miss Saito was pointing at, but it was at the man behind her and she no longer had the energy to turn around to see properly.
“I know you. You work for…” she heard her Watcher mutter, then the voice was cut off and there were sounds of a scuffle. Soon Kikuyo could barely keep her eyes open, her blood draining out of her body, but at the edge of her vision she saw the body of her Watcher slump to the ground, a vicious slash across Miss Saito’s throat.
A harsh voice whispered in her ear, “Still awake, little girl? We’ll have to see about that.”
A burning pain sliced through Kikuyo’s neck, then she saw no more.
*****
Ellie shifted on the mat, struggling desperately to gain the upper hand in the wrestling match with Dathan. She found an opening and slammed her forearms into the giant’s midriff, but he paid it no mind. Instead Ellie noticed that same glazed look in his eyes she’d seen twice before, that same glow suffusing his being as Dathan began to tremble.
It was half past four in the morning in the Hyperion Hotel, and once more all the vampires who had been in Los Angeles during the Elders’ ritual in August felt the surge. In Hong Kong, Fong Sai Yuk shuddered with delight and silently thanked his distant master Valerian for the gift he’d bestowed upon his humble servant.
Ellie stood silently by the padded wrestling mats, watching Dathan writhe. She frowned and bit her lip.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday, 14th September 2006 – 12:15pm
Akureyri, Iceland
The midday sun filtered through the thick clouds covering the sky, making patchwork colours on the ground. Sula ran for the sheer joy of it, not knowing why she’d felt so sick so many times over the past few weeks, or why the surge of power she’d also felt at those times faded away again. But this last time – this last time it had stayed. For the first few days she kept expecting the strength to disappear as it had every other time. But she felt as strong and fast and agile, and the disturbing dreams were a small price to pay, she felt.
She’d never heard of the term Slayer, or Watcher, and to her vampires were a thing of myth. The man crunching across the snow was real enough, however, and she cocked her head sideways at his approach. Strangers were rare in her small town.
“Are you Sula?” he called in perfect Icelandic.
Sula frowned, then nodded tentatively. “Yes, did my mother send you?”
The man stopped before her, slightly breathless. “No, actually, she did not. My master sent me.”
“Your master?”
They were the last words Sula spoke. Her reflexes were sharp, but had not been trained and the man slipped the garrotte around her neck in one swift motion. Sula’s fingers clawed at the wire as it dug into her neck, to no avail. Red blood bubbled and frothed at her mouth before her lifeless body fell limp to the snow below.
*****
The sun was rising in Los Angeles when once more that rush of energy flowed through the brood of The Brotherhood. Nicholas was testing Ellie’s agility by dint of flinging sharp and heavy objects at her, when his head snapped back and he groaned with the fresh surge that filled his being. The Slayer-turned-vampire simply stood by with her hands on her hips and waited until Nicholas’ paroxysms ceased.
“Look,” she demanded, “Just what the hell is going on with you lot?”
Nicholas closed his eyes for a moment and savoured the afterglow of the surge that spoke of immense power in the future. He knew that they would subside like a wave, but would still rise like the tide. He mentally signalled to his ‘brothers’ and they could hear him, a perk of the stolen Slayer energies, and they soon came to the training area in the now defunct ballroom of the Hyperion Hotel.
Ellie for her part had seated herself on the floor and had refused to move a muscle except to break the neck of one of the lower vamps that were there to monitor her when Nicholas or one of the others could not be present to watch her.
She looked at these four ‘fathers’ with contempt. They had treated her well, to be sure, but it was not freedom by any stretch. She stood with attitude and announced, “I do nothing until someone tells me what is going on. You four fuckers have somehow rigged me out of something and it’s friggin’ unfair.”
Dathan snuffed and turned his back to her. “Put her in a box,” he said, leaving the room.
Valerian began, “Your role began before you were selected. A Slayer by the name of Buffy Summ…What are you doing with your thumb?”
“Hitting fast forward, dickhead,” said Ellie, “I learned all this stuff in Slayer school. Go to the ‘yadda-yadda’ when the Slayer gets vamped you guys get orgasmic and I get nada.”
Krispin tried, “I foresaw that your fate and ours was intertwined, but could not pinpoint where or when you would be selected. We sought to control that fate rather than surrender to it. With you in…”
“BOOOR-ing,” said Ellie.
Nicholas chimed in, “When we turned you we used an ancient ritual that bound your bloodline to ours. It was used in the age of…”
“Click” said Ellie, miming the remote control again. She pointed at Valerian, “Care to solve the puzzle?”
Valerian hated this child mostly because he knew the others would never allow him to punish her properly. He sighed, “You are the keystone of an arch that connects us to the Slayers. They die, we get an iota of their power. You get to hold it all together so you get nothing. Unfair? Yes. But you do have alternatives. You can live with us under our protection. Reap the benefits of our…”
Nicholas interrupted, “Followers.”
Krispin murmured, “Power.”
Valerian continued, “…Influence.”
Ellie could almost imagine Dathan deep in the bowels of the building dreamily rumbling, “Reputation.”
Ellie nodded; this was now beginning to make sense. She had only one question, “What are my other alternatives?”
In unison they answered, “We put you in a box.”
Valerian saw the look in her eye – the total lack of comprehension. *Or respect,* he bristled inwardly.
He spoke to her like the child she was, “You will stay in the box and starve. It’s possible to survive for centuries that way. Your benefit to us has nothing to do with your health; it has everything to do with your continued existence.”
*That struck home,* Valerian smirked as he saw the dawning horror of that thought creep onto her face.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Wednesday, 20th September 2006 – 3:30am
New Orleans, USA
The new Slayer stirred in her sleep. Sunny’s dreams had been disturbed since she’d become the Slayer a mere six days ago. What worried her Watcher more was Sunny’s description that the sense of that power passing through her had been… revolting. The first couple of times she’d felt that surge it had been good and pure, but the last half-dozen times it had felt sullied. Tonight, in her dreams a monster chased her, trying to kill her.
She awoke with a start, just in time to see the large axe being swung at her. She rolled to one side but the axe connected, sending bright sprays of blood over her ballerina wallpaper. Her scream rent the air but then the axe fell once more, silencing her forever.
*****
Ellie was feasting on a kill she’d just made. The Elders refused to let her outside the hotel grounds, but they brought her live meat for her to toy with before eating. Her four fathers looked on in approval as she fed, but then Ellie dropped the woman’s corpse to the floor as all four of them shuddered and gasped.
She frowned at this evidence of the power she gave them but could not share in. They’d made their position – and hers – on the matter perfectly clear. The thought of eternity in a lead box as her only other option thrilled her not at all. *But it’s still fucking unfair,* she thought.
But right now that wasn’t her main concern. Somebody had been killing Slayers – within days of their making, usually. It worried Ellie. She’d been on the inside of that system and knew how it normally worked. The four Elders were also worried. It was entirely the Brotherhood’s plan to do just that, of course. But not yet. Someone else was in the field. As the last tremors of their ecstasy wore off they looked at each other.
It was Nicholas who spoke, unconsciously echoing Ellie’s words of a week ago. “What the hell is going on with the Slayers?”
*****
Inside a training compound in Colombia, Anabella Graziani awoke with a start. In her dreams she had seen the axe slicing through the pretty blonde girl’s body, and she felt that same rush of power as she had many, many times since August. She sighed and fell back on the pillows, expecting it to pass quickly as it always had, and fighting down the nausea that always seemed to accompany it these days.
But the power stayed. She grinned, exultant at being the Chosen One. She would be the general of this army, now able to perform the task for which she’d been groomed. She rushed out to wake Thomas with the good news – he would be very pleased.
And so would their master.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Featuring – Kevin Spacey as Michael (Lowell) Gemmel and Pierce Brosnan as Aimes Carmichael
Sunday, 1st October, 2006
An undisclosed location on the outskirts of Los Angeles
11:35pm
Carmichael shuddered involuntarily as he opened his eyes. Gemmel watched on, anxiously awaiting the result of his associate’s meditations. Carmichael was an accomplished magician and could communicate directly with MoM through intense meditation. Gemmel didn’t understand why he just didn’t use the telephone like normal people.
“Well?”
Carmichael rotated his head, loosening the knots in his neck muscles and rose to his feet. “Things are progressing as foreseen.”
Gemmel snorted loudly. “What? Is that it? Two hours in trance just to report ‘things are progressing as foreseen’!!”
This time it was Carmichael’s turn to scoff at his partner’s words. He liked Gemmel; he was invaluable in MoM’s plans in Los Angeles. Unfortunately his past failures meant that he didn’t respect him. “You should think yourself grateful that I impart even such limited knowledge to you Michael, The Da-“
Suddenly Carmichael stopped, his unfinished sentence hanging in the air as he turned towards the door. “If you’re planning on making a career in espionage Ms. Lawson may I suggest that you wear quieter shoes.”
The door opened and Jennifer Lawson entered the room, a sheepish look on her face. Majestic HQ had pressed upon her the importance of finding out as much about The Ministry’s dealings in L.A. as she could. Despite Majestic’s resources and contacts they still knew very little about this most ancient and powerful organisation. Unfortunately, Carmichael had foiled her every attempt to listen in on his private meetings with his associate Lowell; Jennifer was beginning to wonder if he had some kind of special mind-reading powers.
“I was merely trying to find out whether the room was empty or not,” she said in a matter-of-fact manner as she entered the room, standing before the two men.
Carmichael rolled his eyes. Majestic were very competent in most of their practices, though he wondered how they’d obtained such a stellar track record with such fools as they employed.
“We, we are concerned about the actions of The Brotherhood. You instructed Majestic agents to ‘leave them to it’?”
Carmichael smiled, “I did.”
“May I ask why? We’ve intercepted reports from The Watchers' Council; Slayers have been dropping like flies all around the world, Marseilles, Budapest, Osaka…”
“I am aware of the situation.”
Gemmel laughed quietly to himself. “Nothing happens without MoM knowing about it…”
“But, if you pardon my language, if MoM does fuck all about it then what’s the point in knowing?!”
“Knowledge is Power,” chuckled Gemmel again under his breath; he could rattle out Ministry catchphrases until the cows came home.
Carmichael shook his head in dismay at Gemmel’s behaviour. “The situation with The Brotherhood is not of our concern. We have an understanding, we have always had an understanding that we turn a blind eye to such activities and in return ‘people’, and I use the term loosely, like Valerian and his brood don’t fuck around in our affairs.”
“You talk like you’re in support of these creatures,” muttered Lawson but the fire had gone out of her voice and she no longer felt like getting into a heated debate with the man. Still, she was determined this wouldn’t be the last word on the subject. Majestic wasn't in the habit of 'turning a blind eye' when it suited them.
Carmichael cleared his throat and straightened out his tie. “While you’re here Ms. Lawson, maybe you could inform me of the status of that little piece of land that I was trying to acquire?”
Jennifer brushed her hair back from her face with a tired sigh. “Well, it’s going to take a while. I mean, we have stringent rules about land being sold to foreigners…”
“Which is why I am relying on you Jennifer,” Carmichael’s voice immediately sounded softer and more gentle and he took the woman’s hand in his own. “This is very important, The Ministry would certainly make it worth your while… as would I…”
Jennifer blushed. She’d tried to keep her attraction to the handsome British man a secret. Such an involvement would be a direct violation of protocol regarding her role as liaison officer between Majestic and The Ministry. So far she hadn’t told a soul and yet she continued to fantasise about him every night since she'd met him. “I-I-I,” she stuttered nervously, glancing at Lowell who simply stood and watched the scene with mirth.
Suddenly Carmichael leaned down and, grasping her face in the palm of his hand, pulled her lips towards his. Before Jennifer had a chance to react Carmichael’s warm tongue had found its way into her mouth, his lips pressed hard against her own as though he wanted to suck the life from them. Finally he let go, leaving Jennifer breathless and slightly stunned.
“I-I’ll see what I can do,” she said dreamily as she wandered out of the room.
Once the woman had gone Carmichael slumped down into a chair with a chuckle, a smug expression on his face, and Gemmel sat down next to him.
“You ever try something like that on me Carmichael and I’ll kick you in the balls so hard you’ll be able to wear them as earrings.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Day Five – G’rnatha
Early Afternoon
The Battle Fiends moved like the front line of a sports team shoving off any who approached and driving back those that did not get the message. Deep into the bowels of the planet they dashed, protecting their charges that trailed in their wake. The green slime seemed to energise them, made them alert and livelier. Each of the six began to develop unique personality traits.
One of the six, the one Darian thought of as 'Victor', brought up the rear. He was responsible for handling Tash who had gone limp and unresponsive once the temple had closed its door. It spoke to Darian, "We are taking you to see Z'thrukaht. The One has shown us how to reach him."
Darian raised his gaze slowly from the floor up to the beast in back of him. What had happened? Moments before things seemed bright and hopeful; it seemed like they were all going to make it home. Now only five remained, and one – Tash – seemed to be nothing more then a shell. “Great," Darian mumbled. "He sure has a lot of explaining to do to us."
The Battle Fiends strode tirelessly, stooping to carry one of the bedraggled group whenever someone flagged or faltered. After a while they began to shift restlessly until one of them spoke, "I have memories of doing... things, but I don't want to do them any more. Do I really have a choice now? Can I do anything I want?" The other Battle Fiends nodded their agreement. It was a question that weighed on all their minds.
Before anyone could answer the first, a second piped up, "I was on a world once where I saw green, living things. Somebody called it a garden. Can I make a garden?"
"You can sing show tunes if you want, but do it after you take me home," said Alice.
"Personally I think gardens can be a bit over-rated. But sure! Why not? Go nuts!" Reah idly cut into the Battle Fiends’ conversation, "You're free."
After a couple of hours of alternately jogging and being carried by the Battle Fiends - except Tash who simply lay limp in the arms of the Battle Fiend that had once been Victor - the surviving members of the party entered a cavern that opened up before them. The lead Battle Fiend spoke over its shoulder, "Z'thrukaht is in here, according to The One."
The interior of the cavern was a menagerie of sorts. Carefully segregated patches of color with various life forms within were held separate from the other patches by blue lights and clear domes. In one part of the room an amorphous green blob quivered at the group’s approach. The Battle Fiend holding Tash placed her gently on the ground where she stood leaning on Nikolai for support.
The blob formed a mouth and looked so much like an eyeless Muppet that Nik and Reah laughed. It spoke in a voice that sounded nothing like Z’thrukaht except for its meter and pacing. “I am glad you have come to see me. It will not be safe here for centuries. Until the last of the old VTH series are eliminated from this world and new life forms are engineered from the Template, G’rnatha will be quite unsettled. But biological birth is always painful, isn’t it?”
The Z’thrukaht ‘Muppet head’ paused thoughtfully then continued, “No matter, G’rnatha owes you a debt that that cannot be repaid. I feel sad that the many of the other Creators don’t feel the same way. I do not have much time, but I wish to help you as much as I can before you depart this world.”
Nikolai furrowed his brow. The sarcasm in his voice was unmistakable. "Now you want to help? If it’s anything like before, you may as well just send us back now. I’m not sure we could survive your help.”
Z'thrukaht paused, "You shall go home, but is there nothing I can provide? Your forms are fragile and prone to breakdown. Perhaps a specialized refit with more durable materials, like this other biological unit in your group. Perhaps you have need of a servant, or a bodyguard?"
Alice broke in, "The G'rnathan shopping network, eh? I know what I want."
She edged close to the globular mass and whispered something near where she hoped its ears might be. Z'thrukaht seemed to pause for a moment and then his voice rumbled out, "Are you sure?" Alice silently affirmed, and the others watched curiously as a monkey-like creature scurried towards Alice and offered her something small, which she accepted with a tight nod of thanks. As the others began to think about their requests, a sad look came over Alice’s face then she sat and began mechanically reloading her guns as though to keep her hands busy, mumbling quietly to herself.
Reah watched curiously as Alice claimed her gift off the ‘jelly-man Johnson’, wondering what was so special about what she’d asked for that it required so much secrecy.
“Repaying me is easy,” Nikolai said as Tash leaned against his side. After what the Creator had put them through, large monetary sums came to mind almost immediately, but he doubted the currency was available to Zekkraut or whatever. “Change me back, replace the car you broke, and send me home.”
A long discussion followed on the first two points. The Creator explained that in a rare number of cases when interacting with foreign biological units, they experienced an immune reaction. The result was that the slime would begin acting on a creature it was never meant to interact with, often with random results. Nikolai got to be a member of the elite cadre of .00002% who experienced the joys of this. He was assured, however, that the results would begin to fade once he was no longer in contact with fresh supplies of slime.
The Monte Carlo took longer to explain, and Nikolai spent a great deal of time describing the car and had to drive home the need for manual control several times. By the time they were ready to leave, he was left with the promise of a Monte Carlo with two major differences: it would run very quietly and cleanly on hydrogen, so it would just take water to refuel and run the AC and so on; and it would be armoured like a Monitor.
Which was not to become his favourite difference. That was to be the soft leather interior.
*Trip was almost worth it!* he thought to himself, being reminded of the fact that like most men, Nikolai Makarov loved his car.
Disregarding the example Alice had set of whispering in what she assumed to be the Creator’s ear, Reah chose to stand her ground as Nikolai had and play it safe. The last thing she wanted was to find out she was talking into something that closer resembled its anus. Then there was also the plain and simple fact that she couldn’t stand the feel or look of slimy things; they just irked her.
“Um… you… er…” Reah stumbled over her first few words, trying to figure out how to configure her request. “Just before, in the Temple,” she started again, “I was contacted by… um… I was contacted through my vision. I’m sure you’re no doubt aware of its nature by now? You have the technology to do that… you could ‘tune’ into it, so to speak.” Reah ignored the curious glances she was receiving from her surrounding friends and continued to try and reach her point.
“I’d like, and would be extremely appreciative if you could supply me with the sufficient technology that will allow that sort of a link to me. There’s nothing back home that has been able to make that connection…. At least not yet.” Reah rubbed the butt of her hand into her forehead, *This is too weird. And I can feel them looking at me.*
Z’thrukaht paused for a few moments, then his voice echoed through the cavern. “I have determined what you saw in the Temple. However, I will need more of your interface’s specifications in order to create something compatible.”
Reah glanced disheartened at the blob, *I am so going to regret this.* Grudgingly she wandered over to the giant globule to the same place Alice had, and with a brief hesitation whispered her direct request to its blobbish form, resisting the urges she had to throw up then and there. That urge became almost overwhelming when the Creator inserted a probe into her ear, to better ascertain the particulars of her cyberware.
“And all the better if it can’t be destroyed,” she finished up as she gratefully pulled away. Slouching with relief, she began to walk away when a final thought struck her. She forcefully pushed back what the stupid Stone had said earlier and turned about to address the blob again, “Um… is there any chance of myself being able to project back to it?” she asked, wary of what she well knew could be involved for such an ability to be granted.
Reah held her breath during the long pause that followed. Finally the Creator spoke, “I have requested the modification. The factory wishes to know the degree of sentience required.”
Reah was slightly unprepared for the question. She hadn't thought of it originally, but it made sense. She smiled inwardly. "Just something that can follow instructions, basically. Not something that can think for itself, but can recognise and filter through signals and programming. Destroy anything harmful, like a virus, and anything else along those lines!" She paused for a moment, double-checking what she'd said, "Does that make sense?"
The Creator nodded. "The factory can accommodate that," he replied. "Were there any more requests?"
Darian watched Z’thrukaht with suspicious eyes. This godlike creature of G’rnatha had caused him and his friends so much unhappiness, yet here he was offering them all the world. "What makes you think I even want anything from you after what you did to us?" the fae asked angrily.
“I comprehend your outlook of the situations which have transpired. What is done cannot be undone. However, now you have a choice. With a simple request I can grant you almost anything your heart could desire," Z'thrukaht replied calmly.
Despite Darian's dislike for the Creator, it had a point. If they had to go through the horrors of this dimension, they might as well get some form of compensation. He took a moment to deliberate, but it did not take long for him to know what he wanted most. "I know what I would like, but I doubt even you could give it to me."
"My influence in this world might astound you," said Z’thrukaht in the same monotone as before.
The half faery walked slowly towards the Creator, his right hand clutched nervously to his pendant. Quietly he whispered into the same place Alice had. Once he had finished, he stepped back from Z'thrukaht and waited to see if this creature could do what no one before could.
"That is a very unique request indeed. I can do what you ask, but for it to work I would need a conduit into your mind in order to craft it perfectly from your memory."
The man's body was trembling as he took in the enormity of what the Creator had said. *He can do it!* Darian turned back to face his friends, his eyes falling on Tash. Slowly he walked over to the one who had been most affected by the entire ordeal, and placed his trembling hand gently on her arm. "Tash, I know what you are going through, and I’m sure this might be the last thing you may want to do right now, but I really need your help."
He paused a moment, choking back the lump that was growing in his throat. "He can bring Seb back Tash, but... but he needs to see into my mind, and you're the only way that will happen."
Tash slowly brought her eyes back into focus from where they'd been staring at nothingness. Nikolai's arm around her shoulder was a comforting weight and warmth, and she smiled up at him in silent thanks before she turned her attention back to Darian.
"Seb?" she asked, somewhat dreamily. The requests her friends had been making of Z'thrukaht were in her memory, but only hazily. The words the Creator had spoken to Darian, though, had caught her attention in some small way. "A conduit? Why does Z'thrukaht need a template from you? Oh..." Tash's eyes dropped to the amethyst that hung about Darian's neck. "Of course," she said, smiling wanly.
She pulled off a grimy glove, reached out and laid her bare hand gently on Darian's cheek, trying to wipe away the anxious look on his face. "Don't worry. I'm strong enough for this."
"Thank you," Darian whispered as once again the sensation of Tash's touch flooded over his mind. Like a movie in rewind his memories flashed from his own mind into the thought net. Then suddenly he was replaying the moments right before Sebastian had been imprisoned, over 200 years ago. He concentrated on the image of his friend, trying to keep it in focus as long as he could. The picture lingered for another brief instant, until Tash finally cut the connection.
"That should be sufficient," the Creator said, breaking the silence of the room. “But are you sure you want such a vulnerable frame and soft covering for this form? I can supply you with the latest in G’rnathan chitinous armour…”
Darian interrupted hastily, “No, no thanks. I want him exactly as he was.”
Reah stood silently, raised eyebrow at what she could make out of Darian's request, *Geez! ‘Can I have a person Mr. Gelatinous Blob, Sir?’ Makes my request seem like a bloody kitchen appliance!* she thought cynically to herself.
“Very well, as you wish.” Z'thrukaht's voice rumbled on in reply to Darian, "The form I will create from that template shall be next in the manufacturing process - it will arrive soon, along with your other rewards. Let me warn you, however, that once away from G'rnatha it will not be able to regenerate itself indefinitely. Without replenishment, the slime will eventually diminish to the point where the form is no longer viable. I am afraid that you will only have a very limited lifespan from it."
"What? How... how long?"
If a shapeless blob could be said to look sad, that was what Z'thrukaht did. "I envisage that the store of nanites will have exhausted themselves to the point of non-viability in something like a mere one hundred of your Earth years. Perhaps 120 at most. I am sorry I cannot offer any more than that."
Darian's look of confused fright melted back into a smile. "120 years is a little longer than his normal life expectancy. So now how will you get his soul from my pendant into the body?"
Z'thrukaht remained silent for a moment, not answering Darian's question. "It will be done," was all he said. His attention turned to Tash, who remained standing silent.
“And what of you, Natasha Brookes unit? You have been most helpful in this endeavour. Surely there is something you must want in payment? The VTK unit, for example.” The Battle Fiend that had carried Tash into Z’thrukaht’s lair came forward, and Tash could see the burgeoning aura that reflected its newly formed soul. Z’thrukaht continued, “Do you want to take it with you? I can change its appearance to more closely resemble the form it had when it arrived if it would please you."
Tash recoiled in horror, back-pedalling away from the being that had once been Victor but was no more. “No, no.” She shook her head. “I don’t want anything.” She could see a tinge of sadness creep into the fiend’s aura, and knew she’d hurt its feelings. But it wasn’t Victor; it could never replace Victor, not even with the human guise he’d worn.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I… Just make sure they – we – get safely home. That’s all I ask.”
Tash lapsed back into her thousand-yard stare, while Alice continued to sit with her eyes closed, rocking slowly back and forth. The Battle Fiends that had ushered them into this cavern milled about, some chatting amongst themselves while a couple of them investigated the life forms that inhabited the cave.
After some minutes a strange procession entered through the far tunnel. A muscular young man walked into the cave, accompanied by a gleaming new Monte Carlo and a pair of monkey creatures, one of who carried what looked to be a cactus. Tash spared the new arrivals a brief glance, and noted that the naked young man did indeed bear a remarkable resemblance to the image of Sebastian that Darian had held in his mind. However, it carried no aura. The empty form walked steadily until it stood before Darian.
After so many years, Darian's quest was minutes away from concluding. Finally, here, in the strange dimension was someone with the ability to provide him with what he wanted. Yet it was not totally complete. The body of his best friend was standing in front of him, but it was lifeless, mindless, soulless.
"You promised to bring him back the way he was," Darian said turning to Z'thrukaht. Darian removed the pendant that had rested on his neck for so many centuries. "Now finish what you promised.”
Z'thrukaht uttered no word, but drew out the essence that had been trapped inside the crystal and held it before him, examining it. Then Z'thrukaht vanished. The space where the amorphous globe had rested was suddenly, shockingly empty. The body of Sebastian, however, jerked convulsively and Z'thrukaht's voice issued from its mouth. "The soul is housed. I have it in this form with me and now that it is installed, I shall leave. I have explained matters to it."
Sebastian's body sagged, then straightened slowly as the green blob manifested once more. Sebastian's eyes opened and fixed on Darian's. “Darian?" the new arrival said with a mixture of happiness and confusion. His Scottish accent was thick, and unchanged from having spent years in the pendant.
“Sebastian!" Darian cried through tears of joy. He ran forward and enveloped his friend in a massive hug. "You're finally free!"
Seb looked even more perplexed than before. "Darian, what’s going on? Why did a voice tell me I’m in some new body? Where exactly are we? And why am I naked?" Looking around, Sebastian become suddenly red when he noticed that there were several other people in the room, three of which were women. Blushing, he awkwardly placed his hands to cover certain areas.
Darian was laughing and crying all at once as he took off his jacket and handed it to his friend. While the naked man tied it around his waist allowing the material to fall over his front, Darian stood there not knowing where to start.
"There is so much you need to know Seb, but we don’t have a lot of time now. We're going to go home, and I’ll explain everything, ok?"
"How far is the village from here?" Seb replied, looking down and back up to the three women. "I just hope it’s not far."
"Things are a lot different now. I don’t live back in the village any more; I haven’t in over two centuries. Just trust that everything will make sense soon, ok?" the fae replied comfortingly.
"Two centuries?" Sebastian's eyes opened wide in amazement. "Yeah, uhh ok. You know I trust you."
Reah watched the procession of gifts, marking off which was who's as they appeared. When Darian’s gift first emerged, she couldn’t help but smirk appreciatively. When the man’s gaze had swept over the party, she teased him with a wink and watched in amusement as he blushed, impulsively covering his privates.
She paused when the monkeys came out, confusion marring her features, "Um... where's mine? Is it the cactus and the monkeys?" she queried, feeling more than a little stupid for asking such a ridiculous question.
The monkeys veered towards her and the cactus that one of them bore was about a foot tall covered with inch long spikes. It was greenish yellow. It looked like Victor would if he were a foot-tall cactus. The other monkey held something in its hand. The first monkey set the cactus at her feet and scampered away. The second monkey held out its hand.
Reah considered the cactus-like object with interest, then turned her attention back to the second monkey that still awaited her to accept what it held. Bending down so she could hold her hand out beneath the monkey’s, she felt something small drop into her palm as the monkey released its grip. Her face was a sudden mix of revulsion and sickness as she felt the squishy, slimy texture of the tiny slug like thing that had been deposited into her hand, *Eww!*
“Okay,” Reah swallowed the solid lump that threatened to rise in her throat, sounding quite distressed as she held her arm outstretched from her body as the second monkey scampered off after its little friend, “What do I do with this thing?”
She dreaded the answer. As she watched the tiny slug like device/creature thing; she couldn’t help envisioning the Star Trek movie she’d once watched so many, many years ago: “The Wrath of Khan.”
Z'thrukaht's calm voice replied, "The object you called a ‘cactus’ is the base unit. What you hold now is the transceiver unit. It needs to be placed in proximity to your mastoid bone." As the Creator spoke, the slug began to crawl up Reah's arm, towards her neck.
A tiny squeak escaped from Reah as the thing started to trawl its slimy way up her arm. She tried closing her eyes, hoping that the futile attempt to ignore the fact that the thing was using her as a footpath would make her believe it....
...It didn't.
Shuddering involuntarily, Reah felt very near throwing up again. Stumbling towards the nearest support she could find as it reached the bare, unprotected skin of her neck just behind the ear, Reah dry-retched while the tiny slug delved into its new home. It wasn’t until a few moments after the minute creature had completed its quest that she finally managed to gain some composure over herself again.
"Man..." she breathed in exhaustion. The experience, still fresh in her mind, had left her shuddering and hugging herself for comfort, "I so hope I don't have to experience that again." Subconsciously she found herself reaching up hesitantly with her hand to where the device had inserted itself.
Ignoring the antics of his friends, Nikolai walked slowly around the car before looking for the keys. Finding them, he opened it up and poked his head to look around. "It even smells like a new car," he said.
The large green amorphous mass undulated in place. “All of you now have your rewards. Once more I say thank you for your part in bringing about the genesis of a new era for G’rnatha. But I understand your desire to depart for your own home. With the war that is beginning out there, I’m sure the movement of one large Monitor should go relatively unnoticed. I have summoned one of the largest available. It is certainly large enough to accommodate your new vehicle in its hold. I do, however, recommend that you do not delay your departure. I have opened it to receive commands from the Natasha Brookes unit. It will take you swiftly to the Earth portal.”
Tash looked up, briefly startled. “But I…” she began, then after a small pause she continued soberly, “Of course, I shall pilot the Monitor and we can all go home.”
Reah's neck twinged slightly to the left where the tiny slug device had inserted itself, as she scratched her chin, working out the least painful way to carry the cactus. She'd taken it upon herself to decide that it was going to ride in Nikolai's new car. Chucking the Creator a half-assed salute, she hefted up her cactus and carried it over to the car.
"Any time, Mr. Johnson. Piece of cake," she muttered cynically under her breath.
Nikolai sat down in the driver's seat of the new car, not noticing the six spikes on his back penetrating the seat. "Just don't let the cactus ruin the upholstery," he said.
Reah smirked knowingly and continued to mutter under her breath so he couldn't hear, "Speak for yourself, echidna boy."
Tash concentrated for a moment. “The Monitor is at the mouth of this tunnel system. It’s too big to fit in here.” She looked at the car, trying to keep her voice from betraying too much of the crushing despair she felt. “At least the tunnel floor is smooth. We can drive out, if you don’t mind, Kolya.”
Nikolai answered by opening the doors. He smiled, turning the key in the ignition and thinking that the car purred like a kitten. He drove at high speed down the tunnel system to the Monitor, as if daring a Battle Fiend to be stupid enough to step out in front of the armoured vehicle.
They reached the entrance where the waiting Monitor had its hold doors open, and Nikolai simply drove straight into the belly of the beast. The cargo doors closed, and though the light faded it didn’t grow dark. Luminescent spots illuminated the hold dimly – not well, but enough to see by. Tash commanded the creature to fly directly to the portal, at all speed.
“Are we moving?” Darian asked after a few moments. “It doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”
Tash replied distantly. “Oh, yes. Quite fast, actually. We’ll be there in only a few hours, rather than the days it took us to come the other way.” She lapsed back into silence, lost in her own dark thoughts.
Darian and Sebastian sat together in the back of Nikolai’s new car, chatting quietly. Nikolai remained in the driver’s seat inspecting all the knobs and gadgets that came with his new toy. Reah simply sat in the front seat next to him and made faces whenever she thought of the slug that had made its new home behind her ear. And Alice sat in the back, silent. Her book was open in front of her, but she wasn’t able to read it. Instead she found herself staring at the same page, her eyes drawn to the same words over and over again.
For her part, Tash felt cramped, sandwiched between the newly created Sebastian and the door despite the generous space inside the car. She murmured, “It’s hard to feel the Monitor properly in here,” and opened the door. Sebastian offered her a tentative smile before he turned back to the only familiar thing in this place and resumed his quiet conversation with Darian.
She moved away from the car and sat against the inner wall of the cargo hold, just resting there. She couldn’t seem to think at all. All she felt was a crushing emptiness. A loneliness that transcended anything she’d ever felt before. She looked towards the car, full of her friends. And she knew what she had to do. She’d promised to get them home. And she would.
Tash knew the minute the Monitor got into range of the portal. She sent out the single thought, ”Activate,” and thousands of miles away Z’thrukaht picked up that impulse and opened the portal, which the Monitor duly reported back to Tash. Moving mechanically, Tash stood and wished a silent farewell to her unsuspecting friends inside the car.
The Monitor moved so smoothly that none felt it when it slowed to hover barely twenty feet above the ground. Tash stood back and gave the order to open the lower doors – the ones that Monitors mostly used for bombing runs. The doors gaped beneath the Monte Carlo, and Tash could hear the sharp exclamations from within as the occupants realised they’d been set adrift.
“Good luck,” Tash murmured, and she watched as the car plummeted the several feet to the top of that swirling mist that was the gateway to home. It fell in a death plunge, then simply vanished as it was sucked into the portal, taking her friends to safety. And leaving her free to do what she wanted – what she needed – to do here.
“I’ll never leave you, my love,” she whispered. “Soon we’ll be together again.”
She commanded the Monitor to head away from the stone circle, but just as it moved away from the portal and picked up speed while starting to close its doors, a familiar voice sounded in Tash’s ear. “Sorry, hun, but your ride stops here.”
Tash whirled just in time to catch the brunt of Alice’s charge, which carried both of them through the doors to tumble towards the hard G’rnathan ground below. Alice twisted her body, catlike in the air, to cushion Tash’s fall. She barely held onto her book as the pair landed with a thump and bounced across the sharp rocks before coming to rest. Alice winced but sprang to her feet, even as Tash did, ready to face the furious woman.
For a moment or two Tash couldn’t even speak, instead spluttering incoherently at Alice, who simply stood before Tash with misery etched in her face. Finally Tash managed to choke out, “What the hell are you doing? You were in the car – when did you get out? You’re supposed to have gone through the portal!”
“And then what, hun?” Alice asked quietly. “Let you go back to starve yourself to death outside Victor’s tomb?” At Tash’s shocked look Alice smiled sadly, “Yes, I know what you’re planning. I can,” her voice caught in her throat for a second, “feel what you’re planning.”
Tash frowned. “How…?”
Alice stepped forward, “Z’thrukaht. The reward I asked of him was to be able to hear your thoughts without you knowing. But I got more than that. I can feel…” She swallowed, then continued huskily, “I’m sorry, Tash. I loved him too, in my own way.”
Alice hugged Tash for a moment as the two shared in a grief so profound it was overwhelming. Then with a movement so fast it blurred, Alice raised her arm with the gun clutched firmly in her hand, and brought it crashing down on Tash’s head, knocking her flat to the ground. Alice stood over the woman’s unconscious body and whispered, “I’m sorry. But I can’t let you do that.”
She stared for a long moment at the unmoving form of her friend. Her gun hung limply in one hand and the other grasped her book. The pain she’d felt for herself had been magnified tenfold when she’d added Tash’s desolation to it. All she’d wanted was thoughts. She’d simply wanted to know if Tash was thinking of doing anything stupid, to give her a chance to stop it. Alice knew that Tash would find a way to trick the others into going through first and had to ensure she wouldn’t be caught in the trap. But the bug on the back of her neck, with its tendrils into her brain and its own connections to the thought net, had given her far more than just thoughts. Raw emotion had been plucking her nerve-endings ever since she’d let it attach itself to her, and it was almost unbearable.
But at least it meant she knew exactly what Tash wanted, and could feel it enough to sympathise. She wouldn’t want to go on living, either, in Tash’s place. She pointed the gun at the woman’s head where it lay among the rocks.
“Suicides go to hell, you know. I can’t let you do that.” She tightened her finger on the trigger, squeezing down on it until she felt the hammer drive home and the gun responded…
…with a dull ‘click’.
“Shit!” Alice glared at the pistol in her hand then at Tash’s head, which should have been no more than a bloody pulp by now. Her gun never jammed. Why now? She tapped the magazine and tried again. No good. Tash still breathed steadily, her head intact save for the small trickle of blood from the gash Alice’s initial blow had caused.
Cursing silently, Alice ripped open the magazine and frowned in disbelief. Her memory flitted back to when she’d reloaded the pistol in Z’thrukaht’s cave. Just after she’d connected to Tash and felt that crushing despair, and knew what she had to do to ease Tash’s pain. But instead of loading the gun properly, somehow she’d been so distracted the rounds were all in backwards.
She stared at the useless gun, grumbling about the time it would take her to empty the rounds out and reload them correctly. Then she glanced at the book in her other hand, the book she’d been staring at for all the long hours of the trip here while she was dragged down into Tash’s subconscious – that dizzying, dark place of ultimate suffering. She used her thumb to flip open the front cover and looked at the title page inside once more, although she knew it by heart. Had known it by heart for decades.
“Well, I guess the Fates have decided you don’t die here after all,” she muttered. The book fell to the ground as Alice bent to heft Tash’s unconscious form over her shoulder and turned to face the portal. Moments later the two vanished from G’rnatha, leaving behind only the wind and the rocks. A gust of that wind caught the edge of the book and fluttered the pages until it lay with the title page exposed to the air of this alien world. It bore an inscription, the ink faded with age…