*** 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
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Back Through the Looking Glass
Thursday, 5th October 2006 – 4:06am
"AHHHHHHHhhhhh-"
The group’s screaming came to an abrupt halt, when the falling Monte Carlo suddenly vanished from the dreary G’rnathan world and reappeared back in LA, hitting the ground as if it had been just a few inches in the air.
"WE'RE BACK!" Darian's joyous voice rang out as he jumped from the back seat and onto the bitumen. "Guys, we actually made it back!" As he turned back to his friends, his enormous smile faltered.
"Tash and Alice aren’t here," Sebastian said quietly, as if reading Darian's mind.
Slowly, Reah pushed the passenger door open with her foot, clutching the cactus as she emerged curiously from the car. Settling her gift carefully on the craggy ground, she didn’t remove her eyes even for a moment while she absorbed and studied their surroundings.
No evidence of Tash or Alice’s presence existed. It didn’t take a moment either for Reah to work out why. Normally she would have frustrated herself by the fact that she didn’t predict the absolute obvious and probable possibility, especially when blatant signs, so clear, were right in front of her nose. Instead she frowned.
Sweeping her gaze across the scene, she recognised the car park in front of the data processing place as the one they’d left, but it wasn’t quite as they’d left it. A chill breeze – much cooler than the humidity of G’rnatha or of what she’d expected to return to – gently caressed her, blowing wisps of hair across her face. It was either a strangely cool July morning, or….
Tattered police tape hung limp, swaying loosely in the wind or flittering carelessly and forgotten across the ruined ground. Reah’s intuition started to act up and, recalling previous experiences, she couldn’t help but mutter to herself aloud in thought, “What date is it?”
As the fresh wind passed over Nikolai, he could not help but think, *This is nothing! It's colder in Moscow.* "Well," he said aloud, "The snot is not freezing in our noses, so it's definitely not winter." Despite the fact that it was fairly obvious some time had passed, one still hoped it was not more than the week in the parallel dimension.
Getting out of the car, he noted the cool air and breathed deeply. "Better question: are we actually home and not just on a twin earth?"
Being her usual, cynical self, Reah sniffed, “We’re home. I can assure you that. And even if it was a twin earth,” she paused to gaze askance at Nikolai and his ‘optimistic’ second questioning, “technically we wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”
Reah turned away, shaking her head dismissively and took in their surroundings once again, trying to locate anything she may have missed before. Something that’d hint at how much time had passed. Eventually she sighed in resignation, without much luck, and she dropped her head, eyes falling on the cactus at her feet. Subconsciously she found herself fingering thoughtfully at the implant behind her ear again, “I wonder…”
“Hold onto your pants,” Reah said absently as she remembered and considered her gift, “I’m going to try something.”
Nikolai snorted, figuring it best to work the traditional way and began to wander off in search of a newspaper or gas station. Or maybe a clock, so he could at least know what time it was. Either way, he wound up making his way to the mall in the parking lot to discover it was closed and its hours of operation. It wasn’t light out, so the opening time was out of the question, and it was certainly after closing. “Oh joy, early morning.”
Sebastian stared around at the landscape that was no more familiar to him than the alien world of G'rnatha, though Darian had warned him of the changes over the last couple of hundred years. *Two HUNDRED!* It was still unbelievable to him. Now the strange woman, Reah, was staring at the cactus intently, and he wondered how on Earth that was going to tell her the date.
For his part, Darian was busy staring back at the portal and wondering what was taking so long. "Why haven't Tash and Alice come through yet?" he muttered.
Reah’s sharp intake of breath came so unexpectedly, she had to catch herself on the car. No one had noticed her sudden display due to the fact that they were still intently searching the surroundings for signs of Tash and Alice to magically appear. She’d been standing there, concentrating on the cactus and implant for a while, trying to configure it to work. It wasn’t until Darian raised his question that the sudden flow of information ripped across Reah’s vision and mind, producing an overwhelming head-spin she wasn’t quite prepared for. The sudden influx of data came to a certain and dead stop, like it was hovering, for lack of a better description.
“Um… I think I might have a clue why.” Reah’s finger wavered absent-mindedly in the air: a poor attempt at calling attention to herself, “It would appear we were gone a lot longer than we thought.” A sly smile crept onto her face, pulling at one corner of her mouth, *You little ripper!*
Relaxing her focus this time, Reah directed her queries to the unit. After her previous effort, she started to gain some ground on how she could interact with the device, having discovered her first lesson: do not attempt to pull what you want out of it.
“But we’re definitely in our own dimension.” She smiled smugly as she scanned over a particular article the unit brought up.
Darian looked up in surprise. "That... thing on your neck told you that? Smart slug." He shrugged, "Still, if you're right, how long were we gone, Reah?"
Reah turned to Darian, smirking, "Oh, it's not that much really! Just a little bit under two months and nineteen days." She chuckled lightly at his reaction, "It's about 4:20 in the morning of October the fifth."
"October? But... we were only gone a few days!" Darian looked back at the circle of stones and scratched his head. "But that might mean we'll have to wait hours for Tash and Alice."
“Funny things, dimensions, aren’t they?” Reah continued to smirk as she strolled casually over to one of the remaining stones that created something of a bench and proceeded to heft herself up, making herself comfortable.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’ll just sit my merry arse here and wait them out.” Cocking her head, she stared distantly to the portal inside the stone circle, “Alice is also missing…. They’ll be back.” *One way or another.*
*****
Thursday, 5th October 2006 – 5:32am
Alice emerged from the portal into the cool night air of Los Angeles. *Has to be LA, nothing else smells this bad.* Tash's weight rested comfortably on her shoulder, and she looked around for the others, noticing the Monte Carlo parked nearby and four pairs of eyes staring intently at her as she stepped forward.
"Well, you knew I was coming - so did you bake a cake?"
Nikolai had rejoined the others after his fruitless and uninformative search, none the wiser as to the actual date, and now he slowly shook his head at the sight of the woman carrying Tash. He had figured Tash would not want to return home, and would need to be 'persuaded' to return. "No,” he answered, “but we might be convinced to steal one."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Darian ran over to Alice and the unconscious Tash. "Oh thank God you guys made it back. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming back. But what did really hap-?" he stopped himself. It had suddenly dawned on him why Tash hadn’t been in the car when it dropped. "Oh Tash..." he said sadly.
Alice moved over to the car and Darian rushed to open the back door for her. Alice nodded her thanks then laid Tash gently on the soft leather seat. Straightening, Alice wiped surreptitiously at her face before turning around. She felt a tickle at the back of her neck and slipped a hand up under her hair. The small bug-like creature that had let her connect to Tash's mind had apparently sensed the sudden lack of the thought net - Alice stared at the dormant insect in the palm of her hand and brushed her hands together. Its job was done.
"What happened?" Alice repeated Darian's question. "Not much," she lied smoothly, "I just whacked her on the head and dragged her home, is all. Nothing else happened."
In the car, Tash began to stir. Alice looked down at the woman and thought, *And that's all you'll ever need to know too, Tash.*
Sorrow comes to Bibliophile
Thursday, 5th October 2006 - 9:30am
Daye sat behind her desk, staring into space with her cup of tea going cold beside her. Months had passed and every so often her thoughts turned from the current troubles at hand and back to her friends who were still missing. By now she was beginning to lose hope. Her paperwork lay before her, forgotten, as she remembered back to that warm August day when she'd had her first real inkling of what might have happened...
**FLASHBACK**
*** Saturday, August 12, 2006, around 9 am ***
"Ok, what am I not seeing here?" Daye sat at her desk with a notepad in hand, chewing on the end of a pencil. She had made notes of everything she'd heard from the Council the day before and her impressions from the visit she'd made to Tash's place. She could hear the muted sounds of a busy Saturday morning filtering in from the shop. Daye sighed and methodically began to read over what she had written down. Tash and Victor were nowhere around and their place was all out of sorts. Add to that the disturbing news she'd just gotten about the strange vampiric activity in the area of late, and Daye felt sure that something must have happened to her friends. She was just damned if she could figure out what that something was.
Sorrow stood in a shadowed alcove across the street from Bibliophile. His eyes quickly scanned the scattered patrons before glancing up and down the street. After the Knight had made his decision there'd been a brief flurry of activity - a couple of hunters too stupid to realize what they were up against. He'd left them bruised and battered in an alley knowing that they would tell the police anything. It wasn't those that Sorrow was worried about, nor the sudden increase in vampire attacks seemingly directed at him personally. Even Samantha's sudden increase in power - he rubbed his thumb of the minor nick on his right cheek - didn't really concern him. No, it was the big game hunters. The ones that would wait, would watch, looking for the right opportunity that worried Sorrow. He worried that Bibliophile was a risk. The woman he was hoping to meet, Amanda Blaise, was a Watcher and though relations between the Society and the Watchers were rarely better than strained they both knew which side of the line they stood. A hunter declared anathema was at least by Ulle's definition on the wrong side of the line and he wasn't sure how the Watchers would look at the issue.
*You need allies. Kate has her own problems and the Watchers might at least know where Tash and company have gone to.* With one final glance up and down the street Sorrow ignored the morning heat, wrapped his coat around himself and walked across the street towards Bibliophile.
Alicia Wyldling was manning the counter, ringing up sales on lattes, scones, and Cummings collections with a pleasantly neutral smile on her face, when the bell above the door announced yet another customer entering the shop. She frowned involuntarily when she saw the new customer. He was a very good looking man, dressed all in black, including a long, black coat, which was rather odd in L.A. in early August to say the least. He also looked a bit... weary, for want of a better word. His handsome face sported a few bruises and a nasty cut. Alicia sighed as he stood just inside the doorway, scanning the room. She gestured for one of the other girls to take over the counter and hurried to greet the new arrival, a man she sensed was here for more than a new textbook and a grande mochaccino.
Alicia forced a pleasant smile onto her face, but inside she was worried. Amanda was finally getting back into the swing of things, and this guy looked like trouble. Still, it wasn't her place to try and shield the younger woman from trouble, even if of late she felt the strong urge to do so. She liked Amanda Blaise, more than she had thought she ever would. The girl deserved some peace of mind, but living in L.A. and associating with the people she associated with, not to mention being a Watcher, Alicia doubted any peace of mind was in the offing.
"Yes, she's in her office," Alicia replied to the waiting man. "Can I tell her you're here, Mr. ...?"
"Barrington. I'm here to return a loan." Sorrow wasn't sure he liked what had been done to Bibliophile. It had been opened out quite a bit and somehow it lacked the inviting feel it had had previously. Still it seemed to be doing an excellent trade so perhaps it was his taste that was a little off. He followed the woman to the counter and waited patiently while she disappeared into the back.
Alicia left the man waiting by the counter and let herself quietly into Daye's office, where the other woman was concentrating very hard on a pad of paper before her on the desk.
"Amanda, you have a... visitor," Alicia said.
Daye glanced up at the other woman's words, still looking very distracted. "A visitor?" she repeated. "Is it important? I'm sort of involved here."
"His name is Mr. Barrington, and he says he wants to return something you loaned to him," Alicia replied.
Daye sat back in her chair, searching her memory for the name.
*Barrington... Barrington... I know that name,* she thought. As she pondered, she tapped the eraser of her pencil on the desk unconsciously.
Suddenly it came to her. *Barrington," she recalled, *That's Sorrow...*
"Oh, my," Daye said aloud, remembering that when last she'd seen the man he'd been taking a bite out of one of Kate's friends. Of course, she knew that he and Kate had come to some sort of accord about the incident and that helped her to feel more comfortable with saying, "Please, Alicia, show him in."
Alicia nodded and went to retrieve Mr. Barrington.
Sorrow didn't have to wait long before the woman returned to lift the counter and show him towards a small office. Sorrow stepped inside then turned slightly towards the woman "Thank you." It was a dismissal and Sorrow smiled at the glance sent towards the occupant of the office
Daye nodded slightly in Alicia's direction as Sorrow came into the office. She rose from her seat and went to close the door behind him, whispering to Alicia as she did so, "It's fine. You don't have to worry so much."
Daye turned back to Sorrow once the door was firmly closed behind her.
"Hello, Mr. Barrington," she said cautiously. "You've got something of mine to return, I hear."
Daye moved to sit back behind her desk, picking up the pencil and resuming the rhythmic tapping on her notepad. Taking a couple of leather bound books out from under his coat Sorrow placed them on the desk by the notepad. He then sat carefully down adjusting Hizashi as he did so.
"You loaned them to me some time ago, when there was a concern with an Elder in the city. Circumstances have not improved. In fact they've deteriorated, however the texts are of no further use so I thought it best to return them."
Daye reached out and gently thumbed the books. She considered Sorrow's statement carefully before she replied. The Council had warned her about his falling out with his Society or whatever, but she wasn't overly concerned. Over the past few years, Daye had realized that at times it was nearly impossible to meet the demands of organizations like that and her own.
The Council would frown heavily on Daye sharing information about the activities of the vampires currently residing in Los Angeles, and especially the limited knowledge they possessed about Elder vampires in general, and those of the infamous "Brotherhood" in particular.
Daye knew, however, that despite his sometimes apparent personal issues Sorrow was a good person doing his best, and in a city like this one they needed all the allies they could get, especially with the kind of trouble that was seemingly brewing just over the horizon.
"The books are no big deal," she said. "I expected you'd take good care of them and get them back to me when you could. Still, it's been a long time since I've seen you and Jade. I hope you're both doing well."
Sorrow raised an eyebrow. "As I said, circumstances have deteriorated somewhat. I warned you once about an Elder in the city. Valerian is still here. There is a second as well, if the owner of After Dark is to be believed. Nicholas, also of the Brotherhood, is here in Los Angeles." Sorrow didn't really have time to beat around the bush. There were things he needed. Daye could potentially help him with those. There were consequences but right now he wasn't sure he'd be alive to see them.
"Also a couple of friends of mine have disappeared. Have you heard about the appearance of the stone circle?"
Daye's eyebrows shot up at Sorrow's uncharacteristically direct approach. She hadn't heard about this "stone circle", but she suspected that the disappearing friends were Tash and Victor. As for the Elders in town, Daye had a lot to tell Sorrow.
"Uhm, first things first," she replied. "The information about another Elder is correct, but it's actually much worse than that. According to the Council's sources, there may be as many as four Elder vampires in the city right now. The rumors indicate that the entire Brotherhood is in town, and that can't be good. One can only assume they have something big in the works, because these four haven't been in the same place at the same time for a very long time."
All four elders - that meant Dathan and Krispin too. *Maybe that explains what happened to Sam, there's no way a fledgling should be as tough as she is now.* "Ok, that probably explains why the whole vampire population is riled up at the moment. The stone circle is in a down town parking lot," Sorrow reached for the notepad and scribbled down an address. "There was a magical trail leading from the apartment though it faded very quickly. There's more residual energy in the circle but I can't detect more than that."
Daye glanced down at the notepad, which now held the address along with her scattered musings about Tash and Victor.
"I wonder..." she mused aloud.
Sorrow cocked his head as her gaze wandered into the distance. "Miss Blaise I'll be frank. There are... four Elders in the city. I'm being hunted down by my own Society and most of my allies have vanished off the face of the earth. The first is well within your remit and I'm sure you're already investigating and I offer what assistance I can under the circumstances. As for the second, it's an internal matter of the Society, something I do not expect you to involve yourself in. Though let me be clear, merely associating yourself with me may cause you... difficulties. As for the last, I'm at a loss. I'm a self taught combat magician with some severe limitations. Whatever whisked Tash, Victor, et al out of L.A. is beyond my ability to deal with. I'm sure, however, that you have access to a much wider range of talents."
Daye was surprised at Sorrow's outburst. He was obviously under a lot of stress and she couldn't help it, she felt bad. Daye just wasn't good at this aloof stuff, and she'd probably never be able to look someone in the face at their time of need and say, "Sorry, can't help you", especially when she might be able to.
"Ok, Sorrow, I'm not trying to make this harder for you," she said. "I am going to help. I want to help. I am as worried about Tash and Victor as you are. I even might have an idea, one we can try out in a minute, but first, let's address some of this other stuff. Yes, I'm just starting to look into the Brotherhood thing, but I'm not sure what good it's going to do me. My resources here aren't going to be a great help. The Council is scared spitless of elder vampires, always have been. As for your Society of Ulle, or whatever, I say, and pardon my language, fuck them. I'm not interested in what some group of hunters with a personal vendetta has to say. I'm not a cookie cutter, by the book Watcher by any means, and frankly these clandestine organizations are looking worse and worse to me all the time. Let your friends come poking around my shop and my life, I'll poke back. Hard. We don't know each other that well, Sorrow. I'm not going to deny that. But you are very close to some people that I'd trust with my life, hell that I have trusted with my life. So, if someone's out to take you out, I'm going to stand in their way, cause that's just who I am. Get used to it."
Sorrow closed his eyes momentarily. *Well, that was interesting. Still.* "Miss Blaise, while I appreciate the sentiment do not underestimate these people. The Slayer may be there to stand before the darkness and all that crap, but let’s be honest, it's because of the hunter societies that we don't get drowned in a rising tide of vampires, demons, and other ordinary evils. Oh, the Slayer may be needed to take down the Big Bads, but we do a very good job on the rest. They are very good at what they do. Poke back hard, as you say, and they may decide to do more than just snap your finger. However that's as may be. If you want to help I'll not refuse you."
Daye grinned cheekily at the man. "As if you could."
She felt better, more involved than she had in months. Her life was about more than The Bibliophile, more than being a new mother. It was about being who she was, someone with extraordinary abilities and the desire to use them for good.
"In any case, I think I have an idea," she said. "There's something I'd like to try. It's something I'm still just beginning to get the hang of, but it might help us find Tash, and probably Victor as well."
"You game?" Daye asked.
"Always," Sorrow smirked.
Once Upon Tash's Dream
**FLASHBACK cont.**
*** Saturday, August 12, 2006, around 11 am ***
Daye stared incredulously at the stone circle. Somehow, she hadn't quite realized what Sorrow meant when he said "stone circle". This was a rough circle of, well... stones. The stones were all of different sizes, shapes, and colors, but they were arranged in the style of ancient druidic circles. Daye had seen the one at Stonehenge, and the basic structure here was the same. She could sense no residual magic in the area, but that could well be just because she had waited too long.
*Oh Goddess,* she thought, not daring to voice her sudden fear. *Have I waited too long? I just assumed everything was okay. I was so busy with the baby and the house... I hope it isn't too late to help Tash and Victor. Oh please, don't let me be too late.*
Gingerly approaching the stones, Daye stepped over the pitted and cracked blacktop. She stopped just within the circle, and turned to Sorrow.
"Uhm... I guess this would be where whatever happened happened."
"Indeed." Sorrow tilted his head and seemingly listened to empty air. "It's much fainter than it was before but it's still there. Unfortunately I can't tell what it's supposed to do. For all I know it just turned everyone inside the circle to dust." Sorrow sighed, his frustration apparent. "And beyond the basic style of the circle my library is sadly lacking in texts pertaining to stone circles."
Sorrow glanced around the parking lot. It was exposed and despite the time he wondered if there were unfriendly eyes watching them even now.
Daye could see that Sorrow was uneasy being out in the open. Who could blame him really? It would be best to do this as quickly as possible.
"Ok, well, I'll give this a shot," she said, plopping down onto the blacktop in the center of the stone circle. She closed her eyes and began to speak faintly.
Sorrow felt the first faint tendrils of power and closed his shields as tightly as he could. He got the impression this was a delicate working. Having another magician blundering around would probably be a bad idea. He reached up and fingered Hizashi's hilt. He was getting nervous and it had nothing to do with Daye's chanting
Daye descended slowly into the trance. In her mind she pictured a path, her path, which led from within her own consciousness outward, to intertwine with all the consciousnesses that existed around her. What she saw in the “dreamscape” (as Daye had taken to thinking of it) resembled a clearing within some shrouded forest. In her peripheral vision Daye could barely see the surrounding trees. Where she stood there was a crossroads, not of one or two paths, but of an indefinable number of paths. Daye knew from the time and effort she’d spent here, that each path represented the “dreaming” mind of a person. Some of the paths were open to her, brightly lit and easy to traverse. These were the people she knew, the ones she was close to. Most of the paths were dark and closed off. These were strangers, and it would take a long time for Daye to be ready to walk the “dreaming” of someone she didn’t know.
One short path near Daye’s own was twisted and lit a sinister red. Daye could see to the end of the path, to the big, red box that lay there. From within that box, the faint sounds of someone screaming, crying, and cursing could be heard. Daye breathed a sigh of relief. Mariah remained trapped.
Daye turned her attention to another path. This one was brightly lit for her. Daye knew at once that it was the path she sought, Tash’s “dreaming”. She had healed the other woman's injuries and touched her life energies when she did so. It was that healing which gave her an edge here. Daye knew Tash. She had no doubt that this was the right path. It was a blessing really that Daye had healed the other woman. It gave her the advantage, made this possible.
As Tash's mind still existed here, Daye knew she could rule out Sorrow's dusting theory. That, at least, was a relief.
Daye followed the path deeper and deeper. Around her, as she passed, were Tash’s dreams. Some of them were good and some were bad, but Daye did not stop to take a closer look. She had a job to do, and besides, she didn’t want to intrude. As she delved further, she felt a sense of growing confidence. Surely she would reach Tash soon. When she did, she had options. If Tash were unconscious now, that would be the easiest, because then Daye could communicate with her directly. However, if Tash were awake, as it were, then Daye could still leave her a... "message", for want of a better word. Daye could leave behind a sort of subconcious note that Tash could retrieve when she next went to sleep. Either way, Daye and Sorrow would be getting somewhere.
Daye was ready to contact Tash, was on the verge of doing so when she came to a break in the path. She stopped abruptly, confused. This had never happened before. She stood before a dark precipice that stretched out from the end of Tash "dreaming". Daye stood at the edge of this chasm and peered into the yawning darkness. As she focused she caught sight of the glowing path starting again on the far side. There was no way for her to reach it.
So, Tash was all right, or at least alive, but it was not within Daye's power to reach her. Feeling dejected Daye pulled herself back, retreating down the path back to the confines of her own mind. She had to get back quickly and tell Sorrow what she had found.
The faint blue light had been interesting and Sorrow had been worried when the chanting had momentarily faltered but now it seemed Daye was coming round. Moving from his shielded position just outside the circle Sorrow stepped into the circle andoffered his hand to the witch. "You ok?"
Daye opened her eyes and blinked rapidly before noticing Sorrow's outstretched hand. She smiled weakly and accepted his aid in getting back to her feet. She felt a bit lightheaded after speeding through the "dream realm".
She let Sorrow steady her for a moment. When Daye felt strong enough she pushed away from him and straightened up, sighing.
"Daye?"
"Sorry, Sorrow," Daye said. "Just need a moment to get my bearings. This whole 'dream walking' thing is sort of new to me."
"All right... Look I'm feeling rather edgy. Why don't we move location and you can tell me the news... good or bad."
Sorrow was glancing around even as he spoke, a picture in suspicion and edgy paranoia. The urge to unsheathe his blade was growing stronger by the second.
Daye nodded. Sorrow's nervousness was making her edgy. "Yeah, sure, we could go to... uhm... my house, maybe? Sam and Maia are there, but it's safe. It's warded and we've got… dogs."
"Sounds like a plan. I don't know if it's this place or not but something is setting me off. Let's leave, shall we?" Sorrow turned and headed toward his car leaving Daye to trail in his wake.
******
The journey to Daye's home transpired in almost total silence but for the occasional direction from Daye. By the time they reached the house Sorrow had relaxed considerably. The edge of wariness that seemed to characterize him nowadays never quite disappeared.
Sorrow gathered Hizashi from the back seat and looked towards Daye.
"All right," she said, opening the car door. "Come on in."
Daye led Sorrow into the house. It was two stories high and had a huge front yard, complete with trees, grass and flowerbeds.
Once they were inside Daye led Sorrow into an office downstairs.
"Wait here one minute, please," she said. "I just want to let Sam know that I'm home."
Daye left Sorrow alone long enough to collect Sam and the baby. She figured it would soon be time to introduce all of her friends to her new family, so why not start now? Daye came back into the office, carrying Maia and leading Sam.
"Well, Sorrow," she said as she entered the room. "There are some people I'd like you to meet. This is my daughter, Maia, and my brother, Sam."
Sorrow looked at Sam then back to Daye and dropped his eyes to the child she was carrying. He raised his head and met Sam's eyes squarely. "How's the self defence coming these days? Still got that stake?" It wasn't the most elegant of questions but Sam's appearance in the room had caught Sorrow by surprise. The last he'd heard Sam had had an encounter with Tash's doppleganger and never been heard from since. For him to show up as Daye's 'brother' was extraordinary.
Daye's eyebrows shot up at Sorrow's tone. He seemed shocked, and perhaps upset by Sam's appearance in her home. She had had no idea they even knew each other.
Daye turned to Sam, who had flushed bright red and was looking down at the floor, hunching down. She recognized that his defenses were up.
"Sam?" Daye placed a soothing hand on his arm. "It's okay, Sam. I just don't think Sorrow was expecting to see you here. We caught him off guard."
Daye turned back to Sorrow. "I didn't realize that you knew Sam."
"We we're more passing aquaintences. I never got the full story but you used to share a room with Reah at Poplar Avenue." Sorrow moved over to a chair and sat down. "There's a story here no doubt, but I won't pry. Though if we do manage to find Tash she's no more going to believe 'brother' than I am, or Victor for that matter."
Sorrow smiled a little. "Still you look pretty good considering..." Sorrow's voice trailed off realising he might be about to drag up unpleasant memories. "Like you said, Daye, it was a bit of a shock. You dropped right off the radar Sam. We were a little worried."
Sam nodded, taking Maia from Daye. She realized he was using the baby as almost a shield from what he considered a difficult encounter, but decided to let it slide for now.
"Uh... yeah..." Sam stammered. "I don't remember all of what happened before... before... before Mariah saved me. I know you all were probably worried, but things were kind of weird for me last year. Daye... she's the only one... she's the reason... she helped."
Sam raised his gaze to Sorrow's defiantly as he continued speaking. "I live here now. Daye's my sister... well, not like by blood, but still... and I take care of Maia. It's my job."
"Ok," Sorrow held up his hands. " I understand, Sam. It's better than Poplar and I'm happy for you." Sorrow stood and tried to mitigate the whole stormcrow look he had going as he approached Sam and the child.
"So this is your daughter?" he said to Daye with a half smile, "And how's Drew?"
Daye smiled proudly. "Better than he was in the beginning," she replied. "He's been very understanding."
Daye sighed. "And since we're past that awkwardness, perhaps I should tell you what I know from the 'dreaming'."
Somehow Sorrow felt Daye had just diverted him round a very big land mine. "It might be a good idea. Though I'm guessing it wasn't good news?"
Daye went around the desk and sat down. She indicated that Sorrow should do the same. Sam stood in the doorway looking hesitant until she nodded at him to join them. Maybe he'd have some insight into this whole thing. Sam had some experience with the "dreaming" too, after all.
"Well, at least it's not the worst news," Daye said. "The good news is that Tash is still alive."
*Ok, so not turned to dust by the circle.* "I hear a but coming..."
"Tash is definitely not anywhere here," Daye continued. "And by here I mean on this plane of reality, on this planet. Physically, she's not here."
Daye paused to let that sink in. "Near as I can tell, something or someone has transported her somewhere else. I can only assume that Victor is with her. I don't know if they're in trouble, and I can't reach them."
Daye looked thoughtful for a moment. She had noticed something amiss in Tash and Victor's apartment yesterday when she'd gone with Kate. She still couldn't quite figure out what it was, but it was just out of her reach.
"Sorrow, did you notice anything odd at the apartment?" Daye asked. "Other than the obvious, I mean. I keep thinking that something was missing. That there was something I was used to seeing there that was just not there."
"Yeah..." Sorrow went back over his memories; there'd been a groove in the plaster along one wall. "Victor's Stone..."
Sorrow groaned, "They aren't on this plane? You don't think it took them?"
Daye dropped her head into her hands and groaned. *Of course, the Stone,* she thought.
"Oh, how stupid am I?" Daye said. "I forgot about the Stone. I realized at once that there was something missing in the apartment, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Damn it!"
"They're not on this plane, and the Stone of Gobbledygook is missing too," Daye mused. "It makes twisted sense, huh? I mean, Victor's from some other dimension or something. That stone thingy brought him here to begin with, right? So, for some reason, maybe it took him back, and Tash too."
"And Reah." Sorrow slumped back in his seat. "Damn, I was hoping... I suppose we could try to reactivate the circle. No," Sorrow held up a hand to forestall Daye's response, "I know, bad idea."
"Anything you can do to locate friends across interdimensional boundaries? And bring them back once you've found them?"
"Uh..." Daye hesitated. What did she know about alternate dimensions? This was outside of her area of expertise.
"I don't personally have any ideas," she said. "I could see what the Council knows about this sort of thing. And maybe Kate. She's the most powerful witch I know. If there's anything we can do from here, maybe she would know what that is."
"Yeah, Kate. If she doesn't know anything straight off the bat she might be able to get something unofficially from Sindell. Hopefully we can get them back before whatever's coming arrives. I don't really want to face the Brotherhood with out a lot of backup."
Sorrow glanced at Sam, the faintest of frowns on his features. "You'll contact Kate. I only ever seem to speak to her when I want something."
Daye nodded. "She's waiting to hear from me, actually," she replied. "We left off that we would contact each other if we came up with anything in the next few days. So, that will work out."
Sam had listened quietly. "If I can help," he broke in, "If there's anything at all... Well, Tash and Victor are my friends too. And Reah, well, I just... I don't know why we can't all just have some peace, you know."
"Because we know how the world really works," Sorrow replied.
"That's so... unfair," Sam said.
Daye smiled fondly at him. Sometimes he was like a child, and that in itself was very refreshing.
"You're right, Sam," she said. "But life is often unfair. That's why we do what we all do. To even things up."
Daye turned her attention back to Sorrow. "I don't think there's anything else we can do here," she said. "I'll give Kate a call and then, if you like, I'll get in touch with you."
"Sure."
Daye stood and walked Sorrow to the front door. "Don't worry, Sorrow," she said, as she opened it to let him out. "There's a lot of "firepower" involved here. We'll figure out some way to get our friends home. I just know we will."
*****
Thursday, 5th October 2006 - 9:45am
Daye shook herself from her reverie, reached for her tea and made a face when she realised it was now stone cold. She sighed as she stared at the paperwork before her, and reluctantly picked up her pen and began making her notes, telling herself there was really nothing else she could do for Tash and Victor but hope and pray.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Friday, 6th October 2006
Kate's House at Birch Street
10:44pm
Kate slumped down on the sofa and sighed tiredly, trying without much luck to become interested in the documentary Galen was watching. ’Predators of the Serengeti’. Kate screwed up her eyes in disgust as an antelope had its throat ripped out by a lioness. Galen chuckled lightly to himself and wrapped an arm around her as she snuggled more comfortably against him.
The lioness was joined by more of her pride, and each began ripping chunks out of the still writhing antelope. Kate closed her eyes. She’d just received a call from Alessa; she’d arrived back from Paraguay early last week, successful in her endeavors to harvest the flower they needed to work the ritual against the Elders.
The television continued to blare in the background as Kate dreamed about a day a few weeks ago when she’d first met the mysterious Alessa Hunt…
****FLASHBACK****
Monday, 21st August 2006
The Bibliophile, Los Angeles
10:44am
“I just wish we knew for certain that they were all right!” Kate had dropped by Bibliophile, knowing that Daye always worked the morning shift on Mondays to oversea the week’s deliveries.
The two women had been talking in earnest for the past two hours now, comparing their various information about the Brotherhood but more importantly the current location of their vanished friends.
“If they are in G’rnatha,” continued Kate, “not that we have any way of knowing for sure but it they are I don’t know any way of bringing them back, short of trying to reactivate the portal and going in there after them ourselves.”
Daye sighed despondently. She’d been hoping since her encounter with Sorrow that Kate might have some kind of miracle solution that could just whisk Tash and Victor from where ever they were and BANG drop them off in the front living room.
“I guess we just keep our fingers crossed then,” she sighed again, taking a sip of her herbal tea. “There seems to be little more we can do.”
***
After hesitating for a second outside Bibliophile, Alessa gathered strength and entered the crowded café and bookstore, a little uncertain of what she would encounter inside. Ernie had told her that the owner of this café had a connection with the Watchers' Council, and that she should ask for an Amanda Blaise. She didn’t know which sort of link that implied and she didn’t really mind, as long as they could break the spell on Morris’ diary.
Adjusting her eyes to the much darker shop’s atmosphere she peered around curiously. She didn’t see the woman who had waited on her the first time she had been there. Although she wouldn’t recognize her anyway, since she had been in another form that time. There were many people drinking coffee or browsing around, but a pair of women caught her attention. They were leaning on a small table, softly talking, both red-haired and beautiful. Ernie had told her that Amanda Blaise was red-haired and beautiful; she hadn't expected to find two such women! As she watched them, one of the women raised her eyes and looked straight at her.
As the pretty brunette stopped in front of the table, Kate looked up at her curiously. Daye, however, rose to her feet and putting on one of her most pleasant shopkeeper’s smiles, greeted the woman.
"Hello," she said brightly, "welcome to The Bibliophile, is there something I can help you with?"
She had planned this for days, but now all she had rehearsed seemed to have flown out of her mind. She looked blankly to the smiling woman and couldn’t do more than feel stupid for not being able to utter a word. Although five years had passed, her first encounter with a Watcher since Morris' death was still very fresh in her memory. *What if she just throws me out of here?* she thought. *No,* she answered herself, *What I have here will interest them.*
Breathing deeply she asked, “Are you Amanda Blaise?”
Daye continued to smile. She could sense that the woman was anxious about something and was determined to try and put her at ease. "Yes, I'm Amanda, I manage the store. Is there something I can help you with?" she repeated again.
“Well, in fact, yes. I think you can help me with something… “ Nervously looking around, she asked, “Is there some place where we could talk in private?”
Daye glanced back at her friend. This was beginning to sound quite serious and Daye was glad that Kate was there to lend a hand with whatever might occur. "Sure..." said Daye warily. Although the young woman looked friendly enough she knew that looks could be deceiving. "We can talk in the staff room at the back, I hope you don't mind if my friend Kate tags along?" Daye gestured towards Kate who had risen to her feet during the awkward exchange in anticipation of the direction it was taking. Before the stranger could say anything though Daye had already begun to lead the way.
At the staff room Alessa sighed and looked at the women in front of her. They looked interested enough in what she had to say; she just hoped they could really help her. Strengthening herself she started to tell her story. “I was told that you worked for the Watchers' Council,” she stated, although her eyes hold a question. At Amanda’s quick nod, she continued. “My… well, my late boyfriend was a Watcher, and I have something that may interest you and the Council.”
Daye glanced at Kate to which she raised a curt eyebrow. Over the past year Daye's devotion to her Watcherly duties had dwindled somewhat, mostly brought about by her constant attempts to keep information withheld from their knowledge. Recently Daye also got the impression that the Council were not all that trusting of herself either, though she had kept that thought to herself.
"And who are you?" Daye asked rather sharply. You could never be too cautious when it came to Watcher business.
“I am Alessa Hunt. My boyfriend’s name was Morris Giles. You may have heard of him,” she said looking at the Watchers' delegate straight in the eye. At her confused look, she felt relieved and went on. “Well, he died some years ago, but he left his diary behind.”
Taking the diary from her backpack, Alessa held it for a moment before giving it to the other woman. “I think this diary holds the key to destroying Dathan,” she said and waited to see how the news impacted on the women.
Kate looked shocked as she took the diary from Alessa's hands. She had never heard of Morris Giles herself but if what this woman said was true then he must have been terribly powerful to discover a way to destroy an Elder! Kate's fingers curled around the old leather binding; she could barely contain her excitement or trepidation as she eagerly turned the pages.
Alessa smiled at their reaction. As she had guessed, what she had to offer surpassed any hostility they may have against her. And they didn’t seem to have any. “There, in the last pages, there is a part that is protected with a very powerful spell. I haven’t been able to read that part, but I have reasons to believe it contains something that may hurt, or even destroy, Dathan.”
At her words Daye raised her eyes from the book. “If you haven’t been able to read it… how do you know that?” she asked.
“You see,” answered Alessa, “that is a long story.” As Alessa told the women about Morris’ obsession with Dathan and the circumstances of his death, she saw how interest kindled in their eyes. They looked at each other, enthusiasm written in their faces. “I came here because we, I mean my friends and me, haven’t been able to break the spell… I believe that the Council may have the power to break it.” She smiled, “Morris was a Watcher after all, and all he knew he learned from them.”
Alessa seemed distracted after talking. “For much that it helped him… malditos," she added low enough not to be heard, not noticing that her words had in fact reached the keen ears of the two redheads.
Amanda and the other woman, Kate, looked at each other. A bright smile appeared on Kate’s face. “Well, we may know a thing or two about magic ourselves. I think we can give it a go before going to the Council… couldn’t we, Daye? To speed things up, I mean.”
Alessa’s smile was as bright. She didn’t know these women, but somehow she trusted them - Council related and all. If they could take a look at the diary before the Council did that was perfect for her; she didn’t trust those bastards after all.
“I’m leaving the diary here then. You try breaking the spell… the only thing I ask is… well, I want to be part of any steps that may be taken against Dathan.” Alessa’s tone became fierce, her need for revenge stamped in her features, and without noticing it, her eyes shone red in her olive face.
****End of Flashback****
Kate awoke suddenly as Galen turned off the television. She rubbed her eyes sleepily. “I was watching that!”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Saturday, Oct 7th 2006
Darian's Apartment
Featuring Brian Krause as Sebastian Black
“So you’re telling me you don’t age a bit?”
Darian simply nodded for the hundredth time. He had known that when he had freed Sebastian that his friend would have a lot of adjusting to do, but he never imagined the number of questions he would be bombarded with.
“And it's because of what’s inside you? The magic, right?” Sebastian continued pestering until he realized he was making Darian uncomfortable. “What’s wrong Darian? You don’t have to be ashamed of what happened to you. It's me here; you know you can tell me anything.”
Darian averted his eyes away from Sebastian’s concerned gaze. “You know I trust you, its just that –“ he paused taking a moment to phrase things as best he could. “Seb what happened to me – what’s inside me, it’s not something I want you to see”.
“Listen to me Darian, you spent the last 200 years trying to get me back, even though it was pretty much hopeless. Don’t you think that shows something? That kind of goodness isn’t found in everyone. I don’t care what it is that druid put in you, you’re still the same person you always were.”
Sebastian’s words were comforting to hear, but deep down Darian still wasn’t convinced. His friend had no idea just how evil the fae writhing in his soul really was. “Anyways, let’s not talk about this any more,” Darian said, trying to change the direction of the conversation. “So how are you liking the modern world? It's pretty amazing how things can change in a few hundred years.”
“It certainly is different, and a lot cleaner,” Seb added as an afterthought. “The hot shower is truly one of the greatest new inventions. But enough about that, we’ve talked about the changes in the world enough. What have you been up to? I mean sure, you were trying to free me, but you must have also experienced so much. In two centuries you must have had your fair share of ladies. So tell me, any love of your life?” Sebastian said eagerly, wanting to hear more of Darian’s exploits.
“Well actually, I really haven’t had time to date. There was one girl, recently actually, who I’ve been talking to,” Darian said thinking about Tarix, “But I haven’t really had a real relationship.”
Sebastian’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You, Darian, the biggest ladies' man in Scotland hasn’t dated someone in two centuries?!” Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh. “You weren’t kidding when you said you changed.”
Darian did not find his friend’s joke to be funny. “I didn’t have time to date, Seb. I was too involved searching out every mystic from here to China looking for a way to get you back,” he replied somewhat colder than he had wanted.
Sebastian’s smile faded into a look of sadness. “I’m truly sorry for what I put you through.”
“What are you talking about?” Darian replied, this time making sure not to sound angry.
“Well you’ve lived so much longer than any man should, and yet you never had the chance to really experience life, or grow up because you were too concerned about me. So I’m apologizing for that. You deserved to have a normal life.”
Now it was Darian’s turn to feel bad. Here he was getting upset, and instead of retaliating Sebastian was acting in a typical Sebastian way, and apologizing. “Don’t apologize Seb, I don’t regret any second I spent looking for a cure for you. I don’t care about what I’ve missed along the way, I’m just happy you’re back. So who cares if I haven’t enjoyed the world, or haven’t had tons of girlfriends? There is plenty of time for that now. I mean, it's not like age has really taken away from my dashing good looks, has it?” Darian added with a laugh.
“Now that’s the Darian I remember,” Seb added jovially as he walked to the fridge door. “Now I know I’m new to this world, but wasn’t the purpose of this box to keep food in it?”
“Heh, yeah well, I haven’t really been around lately to stock it up. I’ve got an idea - you stay here and relax, and I'll head out and pick up some hamburgers from the ‘Laughing Dog’ across the street.”
“Laughing Dog?” Seb replied looking somewhat unsure of Darian’s choice of eateries.
“Trust me, knowing you, you will love fast food,” Darian answered as he swung on his jacket. “I'll be back in like 20 minutes.”
As Darian made his way out of the apartment and across the street, he couldn’t help but smile. It felt like for the first time in over 200 years, things were as they should be.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, Oct 2, 2006 - 6:46 am (moments before sunrise)
Ozimandius DeAngelo loved the mornings just before sunrise. It felt clean and reminded him of the first sunrise he had ever seen. On that day he had heard a trumpet sound just as the sun had cleared the horizon over a world that had barely cooled and there was no greenery or birds to herald its arrival.
These days the grey urban landscape of L.A. looked much like that wasteland he had witnessed. Sunrise was special and the memory of that trumpet’s tone still echoed in his mind. It also made him hungry. He hitched his shoulder bag up closer to his neck and walked to the Denny’s in Alhambra. It was nearby and he knew they had the best coffee you could buy. Better than Starbucks even.
The little bell tingled as he opened the door. *Every time a bell rings...* Oz thought whimsically. There were a few customers hunched over the counter grabbing a quick bite before they had to rush off and fix cars or deliver produce. These were real people who had real lives. Denny’s was just a stopover for them.
Oz had had a life like theirs, with a wife and drinking buddies and special occasions that required cakes with candles. Now he was a drifter, walking around LA hoping to have a guiding light. Hoping that a sunrise would appear on his bleak horizon to show him which way to go. He needed a trumpet call… and a cup of coffee.
The waitress flipped a coffee cup from under the counter and held the pot of steaming black liquid above it wordlessly. Oz looked up and saw her nametag before he saw her face. Sally. She had an all-American face, with blonde hair and bright red lipstick. It was the kind of face that probably had gotten her on the homecoming queen ballot if not the crown itself. Now, twenty years later, people thought ‘she’s fine to look at’ but then moved along because she wasn’t in a magazine.
“Hi Sally,” he said nodding at his cup so that the warm black manna would come from the sky and fill his cup, “What’s good this morning?”
“Try the hash browns. The cook has finally figured out how to make them without burning them.”
Oz chuckled. He’d had some ‘browns that were burned before and avoided them ever since. *Why not?* he thought. “Then bring me two eggs, sunny side up, with a side of those unburned hash browns and some crisp bacon.”
A voice behind him said sarcastically, “Keep eating that shit and you won’t live to see 200.”
Oz didn’t even turn around, “Brinkley. And I suppose Ra…” Oz looked back and saw Brinkley walking towards him. Ra was nowhere in sight. He smiled at her, stood and gave her a big hug. “Where is Ra?” he asked.
“Ra and I are working solo these days, Oz.” She slid into the seat beside Oz and turned to the waitress, “A cup of boiling water and a teabag, dry on the side, and some white bread toast, no butter and try to keep it golden, not brown and can I have two of those little packets with honey and a single pat of butter - real butter, not that creamery stuff - if you have it.”
She took a small breath while Sally and Oz stared in amazement then continued, “And do we know each other?”
Sally stammered, “Uh, no, I don’t think so. I may have seen you in here before, but no, I think I would have remembered someone like you.”
Sally hustled off to fill the small but complex order. Oz turned to Brinkley who was looking at Sally’s retreating back, “What did she mean by that?” she asked, “Oz, what did she mean by she’d have remembered someone ‘like me’?” Brinkley made air-quotes with her fingers.
Oz patted her on the back, “It means you are memorable, Brinks. It's been at least a technological age since we last saw each other and I still remembered you. How have things been for you?”
Brinkley told Oz about how she had come to L.A. following the “Idea” and had gotten caught in a massive upset of the applecart that had sent things flying. Oz nodded, remembering reading the news. She told how Ra had split to become the manager for Hanson. She told him about how L.A. was literally a City of Angels. This millennium had seen a lot of Angels coming here for something. The word had gotten around that something was about to happen.
A voice to the left of them said, “His master’s voice. A dog stares at the record player because it sounds like his master’s voice. It is the mascot for RCA. Art imitates life and afterlife.”
Brinkley and Oz turned to look at the slightly balding minister seated at the counter. He had a napkin tucked into his clerical collar and a wedge of jelly toast, which he popped into his mouth. He chewed it a few times and pulled the napkin free and dusted the crumbs from his hands. Oz and Brinkley just gaped in disbelief at this man’s cheek. But he was fascinating; they could not seem to tear their eyes from his antics.
When he finished the elaborate pantomime he held out a hand, “Father Reginald, at your service. And as for service, this place is going downhill. Used to be that the waitress would give you anything you ordered. Now, it’s only items on the menu. Smile darling, the bit part suits you. You were never main character material.”
He dropped a folded bulletin from a local church onto the counter in front of Oz and tapped it with his middle finger, "Now if you want real service, we serve toast and juice every Sunday at 10 am sharp."
Reginald flipped two dollars onto the counter and headed to the register while whistling “I’ll be seeing you”.
Oz looked back at Brinkley and shivered slightly, “I feel like someone walked on my grave, Brinks.”
Brinkley stared back, “You don’t have a grave, Oz. But, yeah, I know how you feel. I have a feeling that we have not seen the last of…”
Reginald stopped at the door and just before opening it looked back at the pair and loudly shouted “Ta-Da!” in a mock trumpet fanfare completely drowning out the tingle of the bell.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 1st
Alessa’s place
1:00 pm
More than a week had passed since Alessa and Chance had gotten back from Paraguay. As Alessa drove back from school she remembered their getting there. She would always consider those days in Paraguay as the most enlightening of her life.
***flashback***
September 20th.
Asunción, Paraguay
Midday
The hot and humid air hit Alessa when she got out of the plane that had taken them from LA to Asunción, Paraguay’s capital city. She heard an exclamation behind her and turned to smile apologetically at Chance. She could understand him; she had already told him about the heat but nothing she could say would really prepare him for the contrast of the plane’s cool temperature to the Paraguayan weather or the strength of the tropical midday sun.
When they finally got to the cool atmosphere of the airport building Chance was already bathed in sweat and they only stayed there long enough to have some cold drinks. Alessa wasn’t as affected as he was, having been born and raised in Paraguay after all, however five years had passed since she had set foot on her homeland last so she greeted the cold coke too. They had already decided that they would take a bus to Santa María as soon as they got to Asunción. They didn’t have much time, and Alessa would need every minute there to find the flower.
Santa María was in southeast limits of Iguazú National Park, beside the Iguazú River, 300 km from Asunción, and the only way to reach it was by bus. That is, if it hadn't rained in the last few days. Chance had wanted to rent a car but she wouldn’t hear of it. A rented car would be very noticeable and traceable, and they wanted their trip to remain a secret. To Santa Maria’s people Alessa would be taking her boyfriend to visit her hometown, to the rest of the world they wouldn’t have even been there. So, three hours after arriving to Asunción they were starting the five-hour trip that would take them to her hometown.
After getting used to the heat, Chance had been interested in everything around him. He couldn´t understand a word of Spanish, much less the quick Guaraní that most of the Indian population spoke, so he relied on her as translator. On the bus, he amused himself listening to the people around him, most of them of Amerindian or ”mestizo” origin, and asking Alessa to translate. Soon he became bored of crops and weather talk, though, and dozed off while Alessa delighted in being home again.
Before he dropped off, Chance turned over in his head what he was doing here. His expertise was killing vampires, some demons, but mostly vampires. Flower picking was most definitely not, and most probably he wouldn’t even get to kill anything. But he didn’t like the thought of Alessa going off on her own, and, although didn’t consciously admit it to himself, liked even less the idea of being without her for any length of time.
When he woke up, some hours later, they had left the highway and were already traveling along an earth road, the jungle menacing to invade the path at both sides of it.
“Where are we?” he asked yawning and looking at his watch. “What! I slept three hours?” Evidently the heat had taken more out of him than he realized.
“Yep,” she answered, “and you even snored!” she joked. Getting serious she told him, “I was about to wake you, the bus makes a stop here at a gas station and there is a parador where we can have something to eat and go to the bathroom.” At the look in his face she laughed and told him, “Don´t look at me like that, there’s no other stop until we get to Santa María at nightfall.”
The parador's bathroom was clean enough against Chance´s predictions, and the possibility of stretching their cramped legs was very welcomed by the travelers.
The parador was built in the middle of the jungle; the only connection to civilization was the reddish brown earth path that lost itself into the bush. Alessa walked to the jungle’s border and delighted in the sounds coming from it. The lush vegetation seemed alive and in movement, the coolness of the green darkness was welcoming and she had to constrain herself not to enter it.
“Memories?” asked softly Chance at her back, startling her. He knew that she had spent many years living in the jungle, among the Verbatii, her kind. She had told him of her grandfather, old Shongu, leader of the tribe, and how he had helped her come into terms with her demon’s blood.
“Uh-huh,” she nodded. What Chance didn’t know was that to Alessa, the jungle was more her home than the town they were about to arrive at. None of her friends were alive anymore, and she doubted anybody would welcome her when she arrived to Santa María. The last time she had been there, five years ago, she had been distrusted and would have been asked to leave if she had stayed much longer. The Verbatii, although uninterested, at least hadn't been openly hostile as the humans had been. The outside world was finally getting to Santa María, and half demons didn’t fit in with civilization.
She turned to smile at Chance, but didn’t tell him about her fears. She didn’t want him to see her vulnerable, and her hometown made her vulnerable. It was there where she felt most unfit, most inhuman. Since her childhood girlfriends had started to become women, leaving her behind with her much slower growing rate, she had felt inadequate, like something was missing. Fortunately at that time, her father had taken her to the jungle and presented her to her demon kin, where she had found her grandfather’s love to contain her.
“Let´s go,” she told him instead, “the driver is calling us.”
***
Santa María, Paraguay
nightfall
Three hours later, they arrived in Santa María. The sun had just set and the street lamps were lightning up. The bus station was deserted; the two of them and an Indian slowly sweeping the floors were the only people in there. Frowning, Alessa looked around. This wasn’t how she remembered the town. For its tiny size it always throbbed with activity. The near semi-precious stone mines where her father had worked as mining engineer got their workforce from the town’s population. Therefore, although Santa María was in a pretty inaccessible place, its inhabitants hadn't searched for better horizons like many others had in small towns all around Paraguay.
When Alessa started looking worried, so did Chance. A deserted town, more or less, was not good. Especially in these jungles that were, she told him, full of demon tribes. Maybe he would get to kill something after all.
Approaching the sweeping man Alessa spoke in Spanish. “¿Dónde están todos?”; she asked the man, “¿Pasó algo?”
At the worried look in her face the man gave her a toothless smile. "No pasó nada, bonita. Todo el mundo se está preparando para la fiesta.”
Chance watched the exchange with a curious expression, but his tense stance relaxed when he saw Alessa laugh.
“La Fiesta!” she told him, not noticing that she hadn't reversed to English. Shaking her head she continued. “I had forgotten about la fiesta, the Party. Today is September 20th, Santa María of Iguazú’s date.”
At Chance´s still puzzled look she explained. “That´s the reason this town is called Santa María, it is said that a Spanish priest saw the Virgin near the Iguazú River and decided that it was a sign from God that he should found a town in this place. Every year they celebrate the founding of the town with a big fiesta. I had completely forgotten about it!”
“So, where are the rest of the people?” asked Chance, amused by her happy expression. A party. Cool. He hadn’t had a party in a long time. And one where the whole town went sounded pretty mad.
“Getting ready for the fiesta! Oh, Chance, I would like so much to go too! It’s such a happy occasion, and everybody dances till sunrise..." As she spoke the now cooling wind brought with it the first sounds of music. Chance chuckled.
“Ok,” he said, “but I will need a bath first. No way I´m going in this sweat!”
Happily, Alessa laughed and planted a quick kiss in his cheek, too excited to notice his expression.
Chance quickly turned aside so that she wouldn’t noticed the blush that flushed his face almost as much as the heat. What he was feeling now, of course, was warmth of a different kind. He searched for something to say, but found he couldn´t find anything. Fortunately, Alessa saved him the trouble.
“Come on,” she said, “let´s get to the hotel. I can´t wait to have a shower myself.”
*** end of flashback ***
Alessa and Chance had settled back perfectly well since they arrived in LA, falling back into routine as if nothing had happened in the middle. Somehow they had managed to let their worries about the Elders, the ritual and their respective vengeances on the other side of the door, turning the apartment into a haven where they could enjoy their newfound love.
Before she opened the apartment’s door, Alessa heard Latin music sounding inside. However when she entered the apartment Chance wasn’t there. Following the music she got to the bedroom where a single red hibiscus flower laid on the bed. When she picked it up she found a note beneath it.
Smiling she tucked the flower behind her ear, as she had done on the night of the fiesta, when they had shared their first kiss.
***flashback***
September 20th
Santa María
night
Alessa took a quick shower while she heard the music coming from the plaza in front of the hotel. She felt giddy, like a girl in her first date. Dancing her way into the bedroom she selected the clothes she had taken in a whim at the very last minute. It was a red and white blouse of Paraguayan style and a full red skirt. She put her hair up in a bun at the top of her head and stuck a red hibiscus flower from the welcome bouquet in her black tresses. Smiling to her reflection on the mirror she turned off the light and left the room in search of Chance.
Downstairs, Chance walked over to the reception. He had showered, but was still wearing the same clothes as before. Although he planned to change that soon.
“Excuse me,” he said to the receptionist. They had spoken earlier when they had checked in, and so Chance knew already he spoke a little English. “Umm... I was wondering... ok, this is going to sound a little weird but I kinda have this problem. Y´see, I didn’t pack anything for a party and well, I want to look nice and all... “
“Ahh," the man replied. “¿For la Señorita, sí?”
Chance gave a shy grin. “Yeah... you get my problem?”
“No problem, no problem, Señor. You wish to borrow a shirt? Sí, sí, I will lend you one.” He nodded vigorously and started rounding the reception.
“Gracias... uhhh... muchas gracias,” Chance replied, stumbling over the foreign words somewhat.
After a few minutes of choosing, and plenty of the receptionist’s advice, Chance found himself clothed in dark trousers and a flashy red shirt. It made up for not being able to wear his jacket; it was far too hot for that. But, looking at himself in the mirror, Chance thought he was looking at a new man.
“She like, ¿sí? ¿La Señorita?” the receptionist asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I think she will.”
After not getting any response from Chance´s room, Alessa went downstairs in search of him. The hotel lobby was deserted but for a man talking to the receptionist. She didn’t pay him any attention as she turned around looking for Chance.
*Where is he?* she thought as she tapped impatiently on the ceramic tiles of the floor. She was about to leave the hotel for the plaza when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she gasped as she saw the man behind her.
“Wow!” she said when she recognized Chance in those sleek Paraguayan clothes. And he had even shaved! His eyes showed cheerfulness at her open mouthed stare.
“Yeah, I know,” Chance replied. “Pretty impressive, huh? I´m not so sure about this though,” he stroked his now bare chin. “Think I´m going to have to grow it back.” Then he looked Alessa up and down. “And I also think I´m the one who should be saying: WOW! In capital letters.”
Alessa lowered her eyes, blushing at his admiring stare. She really felt beautiful tonight, she thought, and more light-hearted than she had felt in many years. Trying to hide her embarrassment she took him by the hand and led him towards the fiesta outside.
The plaza in front of the hotel was brightly illuminated with hundreds of colored bulbs, many puestos where the Indians displayed their handcrafts had been erected around the center of the plaza. Some others, food stalls, showed many native meals. The center of the plaza had been reserved as dancing floor. Many people walked here and there, laughter sounded all around them. A band was playing above a raised dais. The sensual rhythm of Latin music filled the air.
“Everybody seems to be happy tonight,” said Alessa, relishing in the festive tone of the night. “Come on, let´s dance!” she said and pulled Chance towards the dance floor.
“Wait, wait!” Chance cried as she pulled him into the crowd of dancing people. There´s... uhh, well that is to say I can´t really... ummmm...” He trailed off lamely and held his arms up in surrender.
Alessa giggled. “Are you trying to tell me you can´t dance?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Don´t worry, you don´t have to know how to dance with this music. You just have to feel it.”
At his doubtful face, Alessa laughed again. “I´ll teach you,” she told him. The band started playing salsa, and the couples around them began making complex figures in their dance.
“Don´t look at them, Chance! Look at me, and try to follow me.” She took him by his waist and started moving with him.
“Uno, dos, tres!” she recited as they moved along the rhythm “Turn! One, two, three... see? You are getting it!”
As the music went up and down their bodies, Alessa could feel Chance relax against her and she smiled; he was moving more fluidly now. “It isn´t that different from fighting acrobatics, is it?” she joked.
Chance's laughter sounded in the night as he started feeling more secure in his movements. Soon, he was twirling Alessa around and moving rather well. He frowned when he saw her stand still.
“Oh!” she exclaimed as the first tones of “Torero” filled the air. “I love this song!” Closing her eyes she disentangled herself from his embrace and moved along the music, singing to herself.
”Torero,
Si hay que ser torero
Poner el alma en el ruedo
No importa lo que se venga
Pa´ que sepas que te quiero
Como un buen torero
Me juego la vida por ti."
Chance´s hands on her waist woke her out of her reverie. His gaze was intense. She looked into his eyes and couldn´t let her stare loose of his. Enthralled, they started dancing together as Alessa translated the song for Chance to understand it.
”Bullfighter,
put your soul in danger
I´ll risk my life for you
Whatever happens
So you know that I love you
Like a good bullfighter
I´ll risk my life for you.”
As the last tones of the song faded away Alessa and Chance stood still in the middle of the square, unaware of the band taking a break or the couples leaving the dance floor. They stood still for what seemed like hours, drinking into each other´s eyes; green reflecting blue. Finally Chance raised a hand to arrange a rebel dark curl that had escaped from Alessa´s bun, and, with a silent question in his eyes, tilted his head to kiss her.
*** end of flashback ***
Once Upon a time there was a bunny part 3
*** Fall, 1999 ***
Ambrose sat in the courtyard, listening to his army training in the field below, while he savored his tea. The new “girl” was finally getting it right. Apparently she didn’t want to be schooled by the Director again. Pity that, because Ambrose had taken great pleasure in the “lessons” he’d given the Turok demon every afternoon after tea for the last week. Perhaps he could find some other complaint. He smiled at the thought.
The demoness slowly approached the Director. There was no telling what mood he might be in. Aja had quickly learned that he enjoyed humiliating her. She had been his “personal secretary” for only a week now, but she dreaded each new morning. Her predecessor had been a peaceful and beautiful Mandal demon. Aja had known her briefly. The demoness had taken her own life only a few days before Aja was moved from the pits. The other demons swore the Director was at fault, but only amongst themselves. No one questioned Delancre to his face. He would never abide any criticism.
“My… my lord,” Aja spoke hesitantly, keeping her head down. She didn’t dare make eye contact before she was acknowledged.
“Ah… Aja,” Delancre’s voice was deceptively pleasant. “You know I don’t like my tea time disturbed. Is there urgent business?”
“My… lord, this package… it was… left at the outpost,”Aja stammered. “Captain Wilkes thought you should see it immediately.”
Aja held out the neatly wrapped box in her hands. She kept her head down. Ambrose rose from his seat at the small table and took the box from the demoness’ hands. He set it down and turned back to the shrinking form of his new “assistant”.
“Thank you, my dear,” Ambrose reached his hand out and stroked the smooth head before him. Aja’s skin was blue-black and hairless. A ruff of bright yellow feathers circled her throat. Ambrose allowed his hand to stroke this sensitive area, feeling heat gather low in his body. If not for more pressing matters, now might be the perfect time to show the girl what she could expect from him when he was pleased.
Aja held very still. She was surprised by Delancre’s gentle touch. She was used to his angry, harsh attacks, not this soothing stroking. She was just beginning to relax when his hands strayed into her bankla, the arousal center of the Turok race. Aja felt strange with this human's hand on her in such an intimate way, but his touch was not unpleasant and she could smell a strong scent rising off of him. The Director was perhaps aroused as well. Being his paramour would not be so distasteful. He was not attractive by her standards, but he was powerful and his good will was something she would be foolish not to cultivate. Aja was young and inexperienced, but the Turok were taught about seduction from a young age. She looked up slowly at the Director, her gaze shy and shocked, but not unhappy.
“Ahh,” Ambrose was purring, “that’s nice isn’t it, Aja? I wish I had more time to show you how nice, young one. But, alas, business comes first. Wait here, though. Perhaps I can settle this quickly.”
Director Delancre kept one hand on the demoness' neck as he turned to the package resting on the table. It was a box, not too large, and wrapped in plain brown paper. Ambrose pulled the string and undid the knot at the top, allowing the brown paper to fall away. This revealed a metal box with a closed lid beneath. Ambrose was intrigued. He lifted the lid and peered inside.
Aja waited without moving, pondering her new turn on fortune. She was lost in thought when the Director’s touch became suddenly unpleasant. She raised her eyes and caught sight of him, his face a mask of undiluted fury. He was staring at her as he constricted her throat, the sensitive nerves of her bankla shrieking in agony. Aja wanted to beg for release but her voice was trapped beneath his crushing fingers. The world around was growing dim and a buzzing filled her ears. Ambrose shook her, her body limp in his hands. He kept squeezing and shaking until her life essence fled. Finally, when he held her empty body in his hands, Ambrose dropped her to the floor.
Ambrose turned back to the box, his mind full of rage. He reached inside and pulled out its gruesome contents. Gabriel Espinoza’s glassy eyes stared back at him from within the severed head. There was an almost accusatory expression on the man’s face. Stuffed inside his mouth was a photograph of his apparent executioner. Alicenoko stared defiantly at Ambrose from the photo. Ambrose pulled the offending object from his man’s mouth and balled it up, snarling.
“One day, bunny bitch,” Ambrose swore, “One day you will be mine!”
Ambrose strode into the house, leaving the now empty box and the now empty assistant where they fell. Aja’s lifeless eyes stared up into the clear blue sky.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Sunday, 8th October 2006 – 8:09pm
Darkness had long since fallen and with the setting sun had gone a measure of Sorrow's safety. In the deeper night the vampires and the demons came out, looking for a measure of revenge against the one that had brought half the Society of Ulle down on them. The shadows of LA had become a war zone. Protected by his own magics plus a couple of charms and glamours from Daye, Sorrow had managed to avoid his former compatriots and in turn they had taken out their frustrations on the demons. The vampires, what were left of them after the Brotherhood had finished their pogrom, had hidden themselves in the deepest, darkest parts of the city.
Sorrow knew how they felt and he smiled at the irony of his own situation then winced as broken ribs grated against one another. He stood in a shadowed alcove some distance from 1318 Poplar Avenue. He needed to be here no matter how foolish it might be. Recent events had forced his hand. Valerian had what he wanted, what he'd come to L.A. for, and though the thought ate at Sorrow's sanity he held himself together knowing that soon enough he'd have the means to strike back. He only hoped that the pronouncement of Valerian's protection over him would give the Society pause.
Sorrow snorted. That was unlikely. Sorrow was not merely anathema, he'd killed a Huntmaster Knight for that insult. The Society would risk even an Elder's wrath - a turned Slayer and living vampire not withstanding.
That last was what had brought him here. Forced from Poplar Avenue after the debacle at the lodge, he and Jade had fled her apartment. He'd left a variety of materials behind – materials he would need, not just for the upcoming battle with the Brotherhood and their allies, but for the future. For what lay beyond that battle.
Sorrow closed his eyes and breathed deeply, ignoring the pain that had become his constant companion. He cast his awareness out like a net. Searching for any watchers, any killers lying in wait. Ignoring the cost in power and further pain he sharpened his focus hoping to catch any who had hidden behind glamours or other obfuscations. He found nothing, nothing but a mind he had touched but rarely. One whose sudden presence granted him hope in his despair.
Inside that small brownstone that Sorrow concentrated upon so hard Tash sat on her couch, cradling a cooling cup of coffee in her gloved hands. The apartment felt still, empty… lifeless. After only three days back in LA she still found it hard to fathom the enormity of what had happened on G’rnatha. And the time difference – no doubt much had happened here since she and… since she’d left. She supposed she should really seek out Kate or Sorrow or Daye and find out what had happened about that second Elder in town. The one they’d learned about just before…
She felt her eyes drawn to the wall where the Stone of Ghortab used to rest. Its absence only served to remind her even more sharply of what she’d lost. If she wanted to, she could take off her gloves and touch almost anything in this apartment, could lose herself in living memories of Victor. But she steeled herself to remain still. Her eyes returned to their contemplation of her coffee. They reflected the surface as flat pools of emptiness as she simply sat and stared into infinity.
Sorrow caught the ragged edge of pain in Tash's mind and sagged. He didn't know what had happened but something had and it had left pain and emptiness in its wake. Taking out a small sphere of smoked quartz Sorrow whispered a few words over it and stepped out into the street. Hoping the stone's rapidly fading magic would conceal him from any unseen watchers, he hurried towards his destination. His gaze darting around the street, Sorrow punched the entrance codes to the front door and stepped inside.
Care having turned to paranoia, his enhanced senses quartered the entrance hall seeking out anything unusual. Too close to exhaustion to manage his customary stealth Sorrow did his best to ghost up the stairs. Reaching Jade's apartment he fumbled out a key and slipped inside. He needed to secure the goal of the exercise before seeking out Tash.
Reaching out under the bed, *Not the most original hiding place,* Sorrow pulled out a small locked and warded box. He spoke a couple of words as he turned the key and sighed in relief. There in front of him was a loose-leaf folder. The last book of D'Nethk'Quan and beside it, in a simple jewel case, was a CD-Rom. Inured to the pain he ran his mind over the contents of the box and happy they were untampered with he took out the CD. Leaving behind the folder he closed the box and simply walked away, aware that in moments his wards would ignite and destroy what had taken him years to find.
Standing at the doorway, about to leave, he took one last lingering look around her apartment. His eyes took in the simple rosewood box on its shelf and for a moment he couldn't go on. All he wanted to do was slump to the floor and sob out his pain and fear. Fighting back his weakness he turned away from the room and stepped back out into the hall. He locked the door behind him and walked to Tash's door. Placing the precious CD in his coat he hesitated a moment then knocked on Tash's door.
The knock made Tash jump in fright, after the quiet lassitude she'd lulled herself into. She stared at the door, wondering who it might be. The answer came to her, unbidden. *Sorrow.* Of all the people who it might be, he was probably the one who would best understand her pain. But she wasn't sure if she was ready to share it yet. She oscillated, unsure whether to answer or not. Then the knock sounded again, insistent. It occurred to her that he wouldn't be knocking if he didn't know she was back.
"Dammit," she whispered to herself and with a mammoth effort she forced her muscles to push her upright against the depression that weighed heavily upon her. A turn of the key allowed her to open the door to reveal Sorrow standing in the doorway. Well, not so much standing as hunched. It was apparent even from a casual glance that he carried several injuries. His aura was shot through with reds of varying hues, indicating wounds both recent and half-healed.
"Shit, you look like you've been in a war."
"That's pretty much what's going on. Two words, Tash - The Brotherhood. Whatever's hurting you, can you put it aside till we've dealt with it or do I walk away now?"
Tash stared at Sorrow, caught speechless both by the news he gave and his callousness. Then she found her tongue, and the bitterness and sorrow rose to meet the challenge.
"Yeah, good to see you too, Sorrow," she replied sarcastically. "Oh, nothing much, just went through a dimensional portal for a week and returned to find nearly three months have passed here. I'll make sure to put the Brotherhood in my apocalypse diary. Oh, and by the way Victor's dead, thanks for asking."
She started to slam the door in his face, but his hand shot out and stopped it from closing.
"Yeah well, we're all hurting Tash and sure I'm sorry for your loss but I don't have time to grieve and neither do you. If you want to stick your head in the sand feel free, but don't blame me when the world crashes down around your ears." Cold and merciless, the words scythed from Sorrow's lips. As much as he wanted to feel Victor's loss, to empathise with the broken shell of the woman before him he couldn't. That way led to his own pain; to a soul-swallowing abyss of despair that would condemn the world to darkness and he wouldn't let it happen.
"I need you, Tash. I can't do this alone..."
"The world's always crashing down around our ears, Sorrow. So this time it's the Brotherhood. Yeah, I've heard of them. Valerian is the pansy of the group compared to vampires like Dathan. But frankly I don't care if..." Tash stopped, hearing the rising hysteria in her voice. She could see Sorrow's pain, both physical and spiritual, and knew it matched her own.
"Fuck you," she said with feeling, and held the door wide. "You'd better come in, then."
Sorrow let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding and walked in, closing the door behind him. Leaning against it he let his body sag a little then recounted a few basic facts.
"The Slayer was called in LA a few months ago, Tash. And it seems the Brotherhood knew. They kidnapped her around the beginning of August and turned her by the middle of the month. And I mean turned her. Tash, she's not a demon inhabiting a human body – she’s a demon inhabiting a Slayer's body with all the confluence of powers that suggests. We're not sure of the details but five Slayers have died since then and there's been a power rush through the Brotherhood's progeny every time it happens."
Sorrow took a deep breath and then coughed. Wincing as his ribs tormented him yet again he wiped his mouth and fixed an angry stare upon Tash. "Is that apocalyptic enough for you? That's the big picture. On the smaller scale the Brotherhood started wiping out every vampire they could find in the city. I killed a Huntmaster Knight and was declared anathema though not in that order and Valerian has put a price on my head then declared me off limits to all comers."
Tash's head whirled in an effort to absorb all that Sorrow related to her. "How do you know so much about the Slayer power? Oh..."
Progeny. He'd said the progeny of the Brotherhood all got it. "Jade." Tash gathered her scattered wits. Sorrow was right - there never seemed to be time to grieve. Maybe later. Maybe they'd all be dead soon so it wouldn't matter.
He nodded to confirm her conclusion about Jade, and Tash continued. "So they're going to kill Slayers the minute they're called and get that rush each time. Geez, and they've already done five? Ok, so I'm guessing they need the Slayer they turned to channel it. Gods, I remember that party last year at Bibliophile. I met... what was her name? Jess? She said she was training a Slayer potential. Was it her?"
"Yes, the young girl in Jess’ care. Anyway, the Brotherhood are still in the city and we need to kill the girl before..." No further explanation was really necessary.
"Sure, yeah. We'll just waltz in among four umpteen-thousand year old vampires and kill another vampire who possesses Slayer abilities." She eyed Sorrow up and down. "But that's not where you got those injuries from. What's all that you said about Ulle? And why has Valerian put a price on your head? Or more to the point, why now particularly?"
"There were enough rumours about Xavier to force the U.S. Knight’s hand. He investigated and a petty young telepath with more power than sense forced my shields and reamed me. That was all the proof they needed. In the ensuing melee I got shot twice and I decapitated the Knight. The last time a Knight was killed Turaka and Ulle went to war..."
Sorrow exhaled, "As for the price on my head, that was an added incentive for the demon population to come after me once they worked out why all these Hunters had suddenly descended on L.A." He smiled bitterly, "Not even D'Nethk'Quan can keep up with the whirlwind I've been in the middle of."
Tash slumped back on the couch, noting distantly that her undrunk coffee was now stone cold. She put the mug back down and shook her head. "Well, on my summer holidays a bunch of us landed on G'rnatha where we trekked across thousands of miles, we got to fight dozens of Battle Fiends and then Victor became the messiah for a whole new race of souled critters, sparking a massive civil war."
She eyed Sorrow, "But I think you win. Hard to top an impending apocalypse." Tash's words might have conveyed humour, but her voice was brittle and close to cracking.
A hug's a difficult thing to give with broken ribs, yet Sorrow tried anyway. "I'm sorry Tash. I can't grieve for him. Not yet. If I do then..." Sorrow swallowed back the urge to break down there and then "I can't. It'll all fall apart."
Tash returned the hug gingerly, not wanting to inflict further pain on her friend. "I know, Sorrow," she murmured. "I..." She stopped, not willing to admit her own weakness, not to Sorrow who always forced her to be strong. But she had to say it.
"I didn't want to leave there, Sorrow. I was going to stay with him, even though I'd die there. I didn't care. I just gave up completely. But Alice..." Tash put her hand to her temple, where the fading bruise of Alice's blow was her last physical reminder of her time on G'rnatha.
She could sense Sorrow's nearness to a total breakdown, and part of her wanted to push him - to make him howl out his grief and anger at all that had transpired over the past months. And she wanted to howl with him. But as ever, he was right - they couldn't afford that. Not yet. She disengaged and tried not to let her voice quaver as she said, "But we can talk about all that after we've dealt with the rest of this mess."
She took a deep breath and just launched into it. It was the best way, she reasoned, "So how do you propose to stop the Brotherhood? Does the Society even care about that? What about the others? Kate? Daye? Jess? Do we have a plan of action yet?"
"We're working on something – an invocation. It practically fell into our laps. There are certain ingredients we need to get it to work but once we have everything then hopefully we can stop this. As for the Society... have you ever hit a hornet’s nest? They're blind to anything but their own anger."
He pulled away a little as his various wounds reminded him of just how badly he was hurt. "Daye's been helping me stay ahead of the Society. A glamour here, an illusion there. Kate too, though she has her own problems."
Sorrow stood again. "I've stayed here too long. I'm sorry to dump all this on you and run but I need to keep moving and this is place is well known. Get to Bibliophile. Daye can fill you in on the rest, and be careful Tash. The Society are angry enough to attack my allies."
He brushed his lips across her forehead. "We'll get through this and when it's over there'll be time to remember everything that was lost..."
"Well, where are you staying? No, don't tell me. Daye must have a way of contacting you, I guess. Oh, Tris." Tash shook her head sadly, "How are we meant to take on the Brotherhood and the Society at once? Unless... have you thought about...? No. No, it's too nasty." Tash couldn't believe she'd even thought of it, let alone almost voiced it.
"What's too nasty?"
Tash looked down, ashamed at having thought of such a thing. "I meant... the Society hunters. If they got in the way of some big, nasty vampires they'd be too busy to worry about hunting you down... It's a horrible way to use people, and some would be killed, I know. You know how I feel about killing humans. But... But it might help keep you safe, especially if you've got a way of taking out the Brotherhood. The greater good and all that." Tash closed her mouth, knowing she was starting to babble.
After a moment she looked up to meet Sorrow's sad gaze, "I just don't want to see you in harm's way. And it might give us a breather."
*Did she just suggest that? Did Tash, Miss Girl Scout vampire hunter herself, seriously suggest feeding a few Ulle hunters to Valerian and co?* "What happened to you?" came Sorrow's shocked whisper.
Tash's hollow eyes spoke of the darkest despair. "I told you what happened," she replied simply. "I don't like the idea, but we have to give you room to manoeuvre. You can't do that with the Society on your back."
He looked at her for a long moment, just stared at her. "I may have killed a fellow hunter in cold blood... driven a praentath in his guts and watched him scream. I've killed more defending my life. I may have gone so far past the line that the whole world thinks me hypocritical but I can't... won't deliver a hunter to those monsters." He fixed Tash with a hard gaze, "And once you couldn't have either, no matter what the situation."
"If we're to fight the Brotherhood, why shouldn't they?" Tash turned her face away. "So, we’ll use this 'invocation' of yours for the Brotherhood, and what for the Society? Just try to stay out of their way?" Her eyes flicked up to meet Sorrow's once more. "You're a good hunter, Sorrow, but how are you at being prey?"
"Maybe they should fight, but when have we ever forced someone into that? Biggest problem first... The Brotherhood could destroy the world as we know it. The Society is a mere irritant in comparison." He walked to the door, then looked back over his shoulder. "I can't do it... I won't."
Tash nodded, "Then don't. I should never have even thought it, much less mentioned it.” She smiled wanly, “Be careful out there, Sorrow."
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, 9th October 2006
The Bibliophile
11:45am
Tash leaned her bike on its stand just outside the familiar shop front of Bibliophile. Nearly three months of inactivity had not been too good for the machine, and she silently promised it a full service and a proper run on the open highway soon. It was only a short hop to Bibliophile from Poplar Avenue, but Tash hadn’t ridden in so long she welcomed the excuse. And it was good to get out. The past few days - ever since she’d got back - she’d spent more or less locked inside her flat, but Sorrow’s news had gone some way to jolting her out of her funk.
Drawing her jacket close around her body to ward off the light rain that was misting out of the LA sky, Tash crossed the pavement to push open the cheery door that led to Bibliophile’s interior. A handful of people browsed the shelves or sat in the cafe section sipping coffee and chatting quietly amongst themselves. Tash, however, wasn't interested in the coffee or the books. She was looking for the proprietor. Seeing only a stranger behind the cafe counter, she made her way deeper into the shop, towards the bookshop section.
Kate was busy studying various books and tomes relating to the findings of Morris' diary. It wasn't her day to work and Alicia often glanced over at the table where she sat, in a far corner of the shop surrounded by some of Bibliophile's most ancient and rare texts. Alicia was suspicious; of that fact Kate was convinced. She knew that Daye and herself had been up to something over the past few weeks while deliberately misleading the Council as to what that 'something' was.
Kate wasn't about to cave in now though. As much as she liked Alicia the woman was still a member of the Watchers' Council and might feel obligated to inform the Council or something. They would never approve of their misuse of Watcher resources. Kate turned another page and continued to scribble down notes and diagrams into a notebook. It seemed like a futile task when Slayers were being murdered all around the world and an ancient brood of vampires were gathering strength with every passing day.
Kate was about to give up and go home for the afternoon – she’d originally planned to meet Daye and go over their combined research but Daye had been called away on urgent business. Suddenly though, as she was gathering her things Kate sensed someone enter the shop; a rich, resonating presence that Kate had begun to imagine she'd never feel again. Kate spun around in surprise, "TASH!"
Tash did her best to smile warmly back. It really was good to see all her friends again, despite the drama going on in the city. But a pall hung over everything.
"Hello, Kate," she managed. "Apparently you guys tried to start the apocalypse party without me." As with Sorrow, her attempt at humour felt flat and lifeless.
The elated smile on Kate's face at having seen her friend for the first time in three months dropped slightly as she felt a wave of exhausted misery wash over her. "Oh Tash..." she said before she even knew why.
Kate forced herself to smile again though it lacked the same joy as before. She walked over to her friend and embraced her warmly. "It's so good to have you back."
Tash lost herself in the comforting hug, letting Kate's touch help to ground her in her new reality. "It's... weird to be back. So much time has passed here. God, Emma must be getting really big now. I..." Tash drew back, a single tear marking its track down her cheek.
She breathed deeply. "Sorrow told me I should find you and Daye, that we have a problem." She wiped deliberately at the tear. "That we don't have time to worry about anything else."
"No... I guess not," Kate's voice sounded sad and regretful as though she didn't entirely agree with that statement. "But our lives don't end just because we're facing yet another disaster," she added gently. "When the fighting is over we still have to pick up the pieces."
Kate was about to say something further but she felt the scrutinising glare of Alicia Wilding from across the room. She glanced at the woman just in time to see her quickly turn away, and Kate returned her attention to Tash. "Maybe we should talk about this in private.”
Tash glanced over her shoulder and spotted the woman Kate was referring to. She'd never really met Alicia Wyldling, but had heard Daye talk about her often enough. Mostly ok, but a bit nosy and definitely a 'by the book' Watcher.
"Sure," Tash said. "There's my place... but it's a bit messy." *And dreadfully empty.* Tash felt the tears begin to threaten once more. She sniffed them back and said, "But so long as you don't mind a little mess...?"
Kate smiled as she began to clear away her research and gather her things together. "Tash, I have a five-month old baby, you do not know what messy is until you've experienced that."
Tash led the way out to her bike and handed Kate the spare helmet. After a couple of tries she got it started, and once more vowed to have it serviced soon. The ride took only a few minutes, and soon Tash was leading Kate up the stairs and unlocking her apartment door. At least with someone else inside, maybe it wouldn't feel so desolate in there.
As the door swung open, Tash surveyed her flat with a critical eye. Since her return she'd paid little attention to anything at all and had been spending most of her time just staring into space, lost in her own thoughts. Now for the first time she noticed the dirty plates and cups, the clothes strewn about the floor, and the general smell. It was a mixture of months of emptiness combined with days of unwashed human. At least she'd had a shower this morning, before going to visit Bibliophile. But, Tash realised with a sense of shame, it was about all she'd done since she'd got back.
"Uh, come on in," she mumbled to Kate, embarrassed. She was sure the woman's nose would be wrinkling.
The apartment was more or less how Kate had remembered it on her last visit when Tash and Victor had first gone missing. Kate walked inside and cleared a space on the sofa so that she could sit down. "It must feel strange, all this. I mean, you've been gone so long and I can only imagine where you've been or what you've faced..."
Kate's eyes followed Tash as she moved through the apartment in almost a robotic manner. "Where's Victor?" she asked in an attempt to lighten the severity of the moment.
Tash dropped the jeans she'd picked up in an attempt to tidy a little space in the living room. "Victor is..." she began, but her voice caught so she tried again.
"Victor..." She closed her eyes. "I think the easiest way to explain is to start at the beginning," she said. Quickly pouring two glasses of water she settled down on the couch next to Kate.
"Last July - it feels like only a week ago - we wound up on G'rnatha. The Stone," Tash gestured to the blank wall where the Stone of Ghortab once sat, "called to Victor somehow. A bunch of people were here at the time. It was the day we'd found out about the second Elder."
Tash took a sip of water and pressed on, "The short version is that six of us wound up on G'rnatha and trekked over a couple of thousand miles to the temple where Victor had got the Stone originally, where he essentially became the template for a whole new version of souled G'rnathans. He... the process absorbed his soul. Absorbed Victor. It left behind the Battle Fiend shell, and once the factory started churning out soul-enabling slime it developed a soul again - but it wasn't Victor. He's..."
Tash looked down to where Kate had gripped her hand and smiled through the tears that swam in her eyes, "He's not quite what you'd call dead, Kate, but he might as well be."
Kate couldn't believe what she was hearing; not the story of G'rnatha or the part where Victor became essentially a 'god' for a new race of G'rnathans, but the fact that he was gone. "Oh... my..." the words escaped her lips in shock. She knew they didn't even begin to convey the gravity of what Tash had just told her, but then what could?
Kate knew that the connection Tash and Victor shared was strong, two souls finding each other despite a world of differences. Kate knew that her friend must be going through hell right now, even though she was doing her best not to show it. Tash was always so brave in the face of adversity and here she was once more, putting the fate of others before her own need to grieve.
She placed her hand over Tash's and squeezed it tightly; she knew how it felt to lose a part of yourself in another person and was determined to help Tash in any way she could.
After a few minutes of silent communion with Kate, Tash lifted her head and offered a watery smile. "So, he won't be joining us for cocktails with The Brotherhood. But I'm here now and I guess it'll give me something to think about - keep me busy.”
She drew a shuddering breath and became all business. “Sorrow's told me what's going on with the Slayers dying and the power boosts. And that there's some sort of spell you're all working on. And he's told me about his troubles with Ulle, too." Tash shook her head, "Can't leave you guys alone for a minute, can we?”
Kate grinned slightly at Tash's joke, "Well, you know us. Not happy unless we're facing the unstoppable forces of darkness." Her expression turned grim, "Though we hope, thanks to Alessa, The Brotherhood aren't as unstoppable as we'd thought."
Tash frowned. "Ok, my brain may be a little addled, but who the hell is Alessa?"
"She's the one who brought us the diary. I don't really know that much about her but she seems genuine enough." At Tash's look, Kate smiled. "Ok, let me tell you what happened..."
****FLASHBACK****
Wednesday, 23rd August 2006
Kate's Home at Birch Street
Late Evening
The protective circle cast, Kate and Daye were already in a deep meditative state by the time the sun had finally disappeared behind the horizon. The attic room of Kate's house served as their sacred space, full of years of ritualistic power and energy. Kate and Daye sat opposite each other, both with their eyes closed and hands joined while Morris' diary lay between them. The room itself was lit only by the presence of five black candles - one for each point of the invisible pentagram within which they sat. Meditative incense filled the vast, empty space with rich scents of sandalwood and sage, aiding the two witches in their craft.
Alessa had warned them that part of the diary was unreadable, protected by an evil curse that would harm any who tried to break the decoding spell. Daye and Kate had thus spent the past few hours erecting a complex and ancient protection spell that would counteract any such curse. As the candle flames burned higher the voices of the two women spoke in unison, their grip on each other's hands tightening.
"We are protected by your might,
O Powerful Hecate, Day and Night.
Thrice around the circle's bound,
Let evil sink into the ground!"
As the two women worked together to unravel the delicate threads of magic protecting the diary's contents, they focused solely on the task before them. Daye and Kate were in tune with one another's magic and essence. They were like sisters in power and energy, their life forces mixing and touching as they worked the intricate magic. Slowly, with painstaking effort, they began to break the bonds laid down by another's energy on the text. They worked on as the night moved forward, until finally they had undone the knots and the diary lay totally open before them.
For the first time in hours Kate opened her eyes, squinting against the almost solid darkness that met her. Warily she picked up the diary, flicking through the pages until she reached the very last few pages.
"Hmmm," said Kate thoughtfully as she deciphered the ancient Latin text, turning over the pages as she read, "Interesting..." Kate could see her friend frowning impatiently to hear if the spell had worked or not.
"Well, did it work?" Daye finally asked, straining to see the book.
This time Kate frowned, and turned over the last few pages, then turned them back. "Um... I can't read this. It's certainly not written in Latin like the rest. What do you think?" Kate passed the diary over to Daye and awaited her opinion.
Daye eagerly took the diary from Kate and tried to read it. She squinted in the faint light from the candles, staring intently at the foreign text on the open page. Frustrated, she flipped back a few pages, finally coming to something she could read. This portion of the diary was written in Latin, and Daye recognized it easily. She scanned the lines, frowning as two things immediately became clear.
"Well, you're right about that," she replied. “This part is not in Latin. I don't know what language this is. And did you read any of this Latin part?" Daye asked. "I think maybe we have a problem there too."
Kate nodded, "Some of those ritual components look, well, rare to say the least. I was hoping it was my translation that was wrong." Kate looked thoughtful, "It kinda looks South American, Spanish or something like that. I wonder if our friend Alessa Hunt might be able to help. She seemed very knowledgeable about what we're up against."
Daye nodded, but she was obviously still preoccupied. She read and reread the Latin portion, finally sighing as she looked up. "Uh, yeah, and did you also notice this was written a real long time ago? So long ago that the priests or whatever were exclusively male?" Daye said, “Translation being neither you nor I has any hope of performing this ritual even if we do find the components. This is a patriarchal magic, sister. We need a guy for this one."
Kate scoffed, "Figures, fifty years of feminist emancipation and we still have to deal with this sort of Y chromosome bias. So, I guess we need to pay our friendly Huntmaster a visit." Kate rose to her feet, the diary in her hands. "But first I think I'd better contact Alessa, see if she can translate the rest of this."
Daye nodded, rising too. "I'll just wait while you do that," she said. "Do you have a fax machine? ‘Cause you could maybe fax her the pages or something."
Opening the door to descend the stairs Kate turned and smiled. "This is the 21st Century sister, we do everything by e-mail!"
***
Forty minutes later Kate returned to the sitting room where Daye was waiting; upon entering the room Daye quickly switched the television set off and looked up at her friend anxiously. Kate smiled. She'd scanned the pages into the computer and e-mailed them to Alessa. "Yes Alessa, the spell was successful but we need your help...".
The Latino woman had quickly identified the language as her native Guaraní, translating the remaining pages swiftly and easily. It appeared at first glance to be virtually identical to the Latin version, although without the Christian symbolism attached. The tone of the translation came across as considerably older... and darker.
Kate reread the Latin parts more carefully. "I think," she began, handing over the text to Daye with a satisfied grin, "that we may already have found the loop hole we need to defeat the Brotherhood."
Daye grinned. "Well, we can take one of them down, at the very least," she said, scanning the diary and comparing it to the translation. "So, now we try and find this stuff, like this flower, for example. And we give Sorrow a call. This is a huge relief. If what Sorrow and Jade have worked out is accurate, then the world as a whole is in a mess of trouble here, not just Los Angeles."
Daye paused, looking thoughtful. "I've been thinking that I should call the Council, Kate," she said. "This may be more than we can handle. We could use help."
Kate looked uncomfortable; she'd been thinking the same about contacting Sindell too. Though unlike herself, Daye didn't have a reason to distrust her employers. "I guess that's your decision," said Kate finally, "I guess we could use all the help we can get right now."
"I can keep the involvement of people like Sorrow and the others on the down low," Daye said. "I would just feel better if I tried to get some help. This is awful big. And it really does involve the Council too."
Kate nodded solemnly. "Just take care, Daye. I don't have any personal gripe with the Watchers’ Council. They've always been very reasonable in my experience, even if they aren't exactly pro-active." Kate blushed slightly, "No offence, call me paranoid, but since my own problems with Sindell, I've become pretty disillusioned with these kinds of organisations altogether."
Daye laughed. "As if I'm not a bit paranoid in general these days?" she asked. "Remember, it was the Council, or Ambrose Delancre at the very least, who led me to believe Ryan was dead all those years. Sometimes I wonder how much they had to do with what happened to him, you know?"
"I do," said Kate, remembering with a shudder the events of last year, almost at this exact same time too. Collecting all the stray sheets of translations together Kate smiled. "So much for the quiet life huh?"
Daye rose. "Really," she said, "I should be going, I guess. You want to contact Sorrow and then set something up – I’ll wait to hear from you, okay?"
****END FLASHBACK****
Kate let loose a nervous sigh. "I only hope it's all enough. I've heard enough about The Brotherhood to know that they won't go quietly into the night. This ritual may be our only chance."
"And this diary - the one with the spell? Sorrow said that ingredients were still being gathered for it."
"Yes, as we speak. Morris Giles used to be a Watcher. Daye tells me he was a pretty influential one but there was some sort of dispute about a Slayer potential and he resigned. But he was obsessed with the vampire Dathan; it was he who unearthed the ritual. The central ingredient is a rare flower that grows in Paraguay. Alessa and her companion arrived back in L.A. a couple of weeks ago with the flower."
Tash thought for a moment. "Right, so if we have the main ingredient, how soon before we can do this spell? Is there anything else we need to do for it?"
Kate grimaced, "It's going to be a little longer I'm afraid. Apparently the flower has to be soaked in the water of some Paraguayan river for about," Kate bit her lip tensely, "...a month."
"So, about another two or three weeks to wait, hmm? Ok, what else do we do in the meantime? Try to keep Sorrow alive, obviously. Anything else? I can go out hunting, maybe take out some of their minions at least." Tash sipped at her water, wondering if there'd be any of the city left in three weeks' time. It all depended on how much of a boost the Elders received each time a Slayer died.
Kate shrugged, "I don't know that there's anything we can do except wait, keep our own alive and prepare ourselves for what lies ahead."
Tash sighed heavily. She'd really hoped for something to do right now - something that would stop her from thinking about how quiet and empty the flat had become. "I hate waiting," she murmured softly. "Still, maybe I can thin the herd a little before we go face them... by the way, do we know where the bloodsuckers are hanging out?"
"I'm afraid not," Kate screwed up her face again in embarrassment at their apparent lack of information. "We're still working on a locator spell. I guess it's not exactly relevant until we're ready to perform the ritual anyway." Kate eyed Tash suspiciously. She'd have to keep an eye on her just in case she decided a suicide mission was a good idea and tried to take on the Brotherhood by herself.
"Hmm, well, better make finding the Brotherhood a priority. It's no good having the means to destroy them with no idea of where to utilise it." Tash bit her lip thoughtfully, "If you and Daye - and Sorrow, if he's able - can work on that locator spell, I'll see if I can't find anything out by more traditional means. Speaking of Sorrow," Tash deftly changed the subject, "do you have any way of getting in touch with him, or does he just pop in from time to time?"
Kate looked wary. "He's got to lay low at the moment. I guess he believes it's for our own safety that we don't know where that is if the Society come knocking."
She studied Tash thoughtfully, "You're not..." Suddenly Kate's eyes widened. "Tash no! You're not going after Valerian and his mob on your own! How could you even think about it? It'd be suicide!"
Tash sat up straight. "No, no of course not. I just think it'd be a good idea to find out where they are. I could ask around, maybe find some of their minions." She gave a hollow laugh, "I couldn't take on Valerian – even by himself - before. I couldn't possibly take him on now that he's grown stronger and has friends."
Once more Tash changed the subject. "But Sorrow talked of Jade. He didn't exactly say, but it seemed to me there was something not right there. Is Jade ok?"
Kate frowned; she wasn't fooled by Tash's assurances one bit. "Jade'll be okay, I guess, once this is over."
Kate squeezed Tash's hand tighter. "Tash, you've just been through what I can only imagine was a terrible time. You lost your soul mate - I know what that feels like. You don't have to pretend with me. I don't want to rake this up again for you but there are gonna be times when killing vampires and saving the world just doesn't distract you from that loss." Kate fidgeted awkwardly. "You have to try and let other people help you, do you get what I'm saying here?"
Closing her eyes against the pain, Tash held onto the solidity of Kate's hand. "I can't believe he's really gone. I keep thinking I'll go into the next room and see him there. It doesn't help that we were gone less than a week, and came back three months later. Everything is so surreal now."
She let her eyes open, and looked across at the water-blurred shape sitting next to her. "But really, I plan to be there to support this spell thing. Don't worry; I'm not about to rush headlong on a suicide mission. But yeah, I find killing vampires is a good way to forget, at least for a little while.”
"Okay," said Kate softly, "okay. There's plenty to keep yourself occupied with. Just say the word – I’m here for you if you need someone to talk to."
"Thanks, Kate." Tash looked around the derelict living room and sighed. "I've got plenty to keep me occupied today, at least," she observed.
“It's funny, you know - for a couple of years after Matthias first disappeared, I lived alone and got used to it. Didn't mind it. Now this place just echoes." Tash gazed down at the gloved hand that Kate held. "I've resisted the temptation to touch things so far, but I'm thinking I might make it easier on myself and move up to the penthouse. What do you think?"
"I think you do whatever feels right, whatever is going to get you through the day. And if you ever need company you're always welcome to stay at our place. If there's one thing that house is, it's busy."
Tash felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards in a smile. "Thanks, but I daresay you've got your hands full with Galen and the baby. But if it gets too bad... well, I might be knocking at your door to bask in the warmth for a few hours. Thanks."
She gazed off into the middle distance for a moment. "We got married, you know. On the thirteenth. July, that is. G'rnatha turned out to be our honeymoon." She turned back to Kate and shrugged ruefully, "Not quite what I imagined a honeymoon to be like, I must say."
"No," agreed Kate wistfully, absently rubbing at the finger on her left hand that held her own wedding ring and symbol of her union to Galen. She'd imagined being overjoyed at telling Tash her happy news, instead she felt slightly embarrassed and anxious. It didn't feel right for her to feel happy when Tash was so devastated.
"Life isn't something you can plan," she said simply.
Tash's gaze was drawn to Kate's movement and her eyes widened. The first feeling that carried any colour whatsoever - albeit faint - washed over Tash, and some of the hurt faded from her eyes. "Oh, you and Galen...? When?"
Kate shoved her hands in her pockets self-consciously, "The 17th... " she felt bad talking about the subject when Victor was... Kate didn't know what she'd do if she ever lost Galen, it would be like having her heart yanked out and drop-kicked against a wall. "We-we just went to Vegas, it was no big deal," she mumbled quietly in the hope of sparing Tash any further pain.
Tash leaned forward, feeling Kate's discomfort. "Please, don't hide it. I think it's great. I know you'll be... happy... Oh God..."
It suddenly became too much to hold in any more, and Tash found herself being rocked by Kate as she bawled helplessly on the woman's shoulder. Absently she noted it was the first really good cry she'd had since the temple door had slammed shut, cutting her off forever from whatever was left of Victor.
Kate held Tash tightly and rubbed her back in a soothing motion. She could feel the great sobs shake Tash's body as the poor woman released her grief. “Hey, it's okay. You're gonna be okay Tash."
Eventually the torrent of grief eased, and Tash found herself able to sit up once more. Wiping away the wetness on her face, she said, "I might come out more or less ok. But I'll never be the same." Tash managed a faint smile and patted Kate's hand. "I will be ok. I'm not about to head out and do anything stupid. But keeping busy will help me get through this, I know. Thank God for apocalypses, eh?"
Kate smiled sympathetically at Tash, glad that she felt able to confide in her about Victor. She pushed her hair back behind her ear, and it was then that she caught a glimpse of her watch. Kate gasped slightly, not realising how much time had passed since she'd first arrived at Bibliophile that morning. At Tash's curious glance Kate grimaced, feeling terribly insensitive.
"I, um, I'm sorry. I didn't realise what time it was – not that I'm in a hurry or anything, just that it's um," Kate clasped her forehead, sighing and rolling her eyes at her own awkwardness. "I have to feed Emma, sometimes I feel like a walking... baby... feeding unit."
Tash smiled slightly, "You like it, though." The phrase wasn't a question but a statement.
Kate grinned shyly, "I love it."
"Go on, I'm fine. Really." Tash gestured at the mess that surrounded them. "I've got plenty to keep me busy today, especially if I move my stuff upstairs."
Tash stood as Kate did, and they embraced quickly. "Thanks for letting me howl on you. I..." Tash gave a half-laugh of embarrassment. "Just thanks."
Kate nodded warmly as she walked towards the door, her bags of ancient texts loaded on her shoulders. Just before she opened the door she turned back. "Why don't you come with me? Emma hasn't seen her Auntie Natasha for a long time and your move can wait a few hours, surely?"
Tash looked around at the devastation, then back at Kate. "Actually, that'd be nice," she said with a smile. "She'll have grown so much since I was gone - it'll be good to see her again."
Tash fetched her bike from the second bedroom then grabbed her jacket from its hook, checked that the stakes were still in place, and joined Kate at the door. "Let's ride. I promised this baby a good run."
Ambrose takes over
*** Wednesday, September 23, 2006 ***
***Flashback***
Watcher’s Council Headquarters, London England.
Featuring Colin Firth as Director Ambrose Delancre, Ian Mckellan as First Elder
Ambrose Delancre sat at the opposite end of the long table from David Weston. The older man was First Elder of the Watcher’s Council, the head of the Elders' Circle and the highest ranking man in the hierarchy of the Council as a whole. At this moment he looked like a terrified boy. Weston watched without speaking as all around the table the other Elders ranted and shouted and sometimes cried. The Council had lost six Slayers in rapid succession, and the hierarchy was in an uproar. The Elders and their respective factions were divided over the possible meaning of the rash of killings and the ramifications of what might be happening in L.A. David had called Ambrose in because he was so highly respected, and frankly, David himself was at a loss.
Ambrose listened to the panicked babble around him and felt a strange sense of calm. Things were going exactly according to plan. The Council was in utter chaos, and in a matter of hours they would be offering him David’s chair. Now was the perfect time to take it.
“Please, ladies and gentlemen, please,” David had risen to his feet and was struggling to be heard over the din, “If you’ll all quiet down, we can discuss this rationally.”
The roar died down to a murmur after a few minutes. The Elders' Circle all turned their attention to David Weston, but they continued to shoot uneasy glances at Director Delancre.
“I am sure you are all aware of the string of events which have transpired over the last four weeks,” David began. “And I’m sure everyone here is equally concerned. We’ve lost six Slayers in only four weeks. That’s unprecedented. It’s without question some sort of deliberate hunt. These girls never really had a chance.”
The Elders around the table all began to speak again at once. David looked exasperated. He turned a beseeching gaze on Ambrose.
Ambrose nodded at the older man and rose to his feet. He raised a hand and deliberately brought it down on the tabletop with a loud smack. The others turned to him, shocked into silence. “I realize, my friends, that you are all emotional over this turn of events,” he said. “But you must calm down so that we can talk this out.”
The other Elders remained silent. “Sir Ambrose is correct,” David said wearily. “We must maintain level heads if we are to salvage something here.”
“First off,” David continued, “we do not know as of yet who is behind these attacks, but we suspect this may have something to do with The Brotherhood. They are in Los Angeles, and they were the ones who killed Ellie, setting off this string of murders.”
“As to why...” David paused.
“There is a rumor that Ellie was not killed,” Ambrose broke in. “It has been said that she was in fact, turned. That appears to be the truth. For some reason, The Brotherhood has turned Ellie, and there may be even more to that. We just can’t be sure. What we do know is that they may be behind this rash of Slayer slayings, and we need to make sure that whatever they have planned, they are stopped.”
Ambrose paused to let his words sink in, and then continued. “To make sure that the new Slayer is safe, I’ve taken her into my protection personally. Please, bring Anna in.”
A guard by the door left and came back a moment later followed by a beautiful Italian girl dressed in army fatigues. She was surrounded by four gigantic demons dressed similarly. The Elders gasped when they entered.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Elder Kline demanded.
Ambrose gestured for the irate man to be seated. “This is Annabella Graziani, the new Vampire Slayer,” Ambrose explained. Anna bowed her head in deference to the men and women seated at the table. “These ‘creatures’ are her guards. They are an elite team trained in my facility in Colombia. They are the first active members of the newly formed WC Corps.”
“WC Corps?” Kline looked quite confused.
“Like an army?” Elder Celeste asked.
“Exactly,” Ambrose agreed. “The Corps shall be our army, an army of demons and genetically enhanced humans that I have been training for these past few years. They have combat readiness and psychological imperatives that make them utterly loyal to us. After what happened in 2003, I vowed I would find a way to protect this organization from future assaults. This is that way.”
Ambrose let his words sink in. The Elders were all nodding slowly, relieved by his proposal. Now was the perfect time.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I believe you can see the importance of my work,” he said, “and therefore, you will not be surprised to hear that I will be returning to Colombia tonight. Rest assured, the Slayer will be safe there with me.”
“But, Director Delancre,” David Weston’s tone was panicked, “what about us? You must mean to leave us guarded as well.”
“First Elder,” Ambrose replied, “the Corps is only answerable to me, and to some extent to Anna. I can’t leave any of them here, and I can’t stay myself. You are our leader. You should not need to feel threatened by my presence or the presence of my men.”
“Indeed not,” David said. “I would feel safer if you were here.”
Ambrose nodded sadly. “I would not have free rein here,” he frowned. “I simply can’t stay.”
“But you must!” Elder Kline sprang to his feet. “We must convince you!”
“You must not only stay,” Weston agreed, “you must lead us. You should be First Elder. You’re the only one here with a plan.”
Ambrose shook his head. “No, you don’t want that, David.”
“But I do,” Weston said.
“As do I,” Kline agreed. Many others also murmured assent. They began to urge him, and finally Ambrose agreed.
Ambrose Delancre discussed the events in Los Angeles with the Circle for some time after that, but the most important thing had been settled at that moment. He was the new head of the Watcher’s Council, and he’d been given free rein by the others to handle things as he saw fit.
***End Flashback***
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 1st
Ernie’s house
afternoon
Since Chance wouldn’t come back in until night Alessa decided to pay Ernie a visit to tell him in person what had happened in Paraguay. She knew he would be very interested by the events that had happened there, especially those related to Morris. So after having lunch she drove the long way to his house, delighting in the warm breeze in her hair.
After arriving back to the States Chance had convinced her of buying some means of transportation since, he had said, nobody walked in LA. He had been surprised by her choice of vehicle, though. He had probably thought that she would buy a motor bike like his own or a modern car. But when she got home in her tiny 1983 Volkswagen convertible he had burst into laughter.
“Why, it’s a perfect car!” she had argued, “Small, fast and easy to park!”
“Sure,” he had laughed, “if you get to turn it on.”
But the car had proved to be reliable and under a new coat of scarlet paint it looked perfect. Finally Chance had had to agree with her that it had been a good buy. Now, as she got to Ernie’s in half the time it would have taken her using the LA public transportation system, it was her time to agree with him that she had needed it.
***
Ernie had been very interested about Alessa’s trip indeed, all the time asking questions and taking notes in his own diary. He had been especially interested in what the Shaman had had to say about Dathan’s time in the falls area and the power of the flower over him.
*** Flashback ***
September 21st.
Iguazú Falls
morning
Alessa had decided that to show Chance the best panoramic view of the falls they would have to enter Brazilian territory, although to get to the place where the priests had written the flower would be found they would have to get into Argentina. To go the falls they had taken the tourist circuit and were now surrounded by two dozen people who spoke excitedly in many different languages, all of them armed with photo or video cameras. The Indian guide signaled the dissimilar group to follow him as he started towards the falls. Most of these people had already seen the falls, because the hotels in the Brazilian city of Foz de Iguazú faced the impressive view, but Chance hadn't and she wanted his first image of her beloved falls to be as imposing as it could be.
Although they weren't still at falls themselves the thunderous roaring of the water could be heard from miles away. Alessa smiled at Chance when he commented on the sound.
“Somebody once said that it’s like white noise on a million televisions with the volume turned all the way up!” she shouted over the roaring sound as they took a turn and all the magnificence of the Iguazú falls struck them.
In front of them, across a huge void, opened a crescent-shaped cliff about 2.5 miles long from where hundreds of individual cascades fell. Some of them plummeted straight down for hundreds of feet into the gorge below. Others were interrupted by ledges and sent up clouds of mist and spray, creating a dazzling display of rainbows.
Alessa leaned on the wooden fence that separated the awed tourists from the abyss below and closed her eyes inspiring deeply the humid air of the place. Not far from there in a cliff facing the falls, away from the tourist circuits, she had shared a cabin with Morris. The best years of her life she had spent there. If she closed her eyes she could still see him as he had been then. She thanked the opportunity to return to this place, because although she had been in Paraguay many times since Morris' death this was the first time she visited the falls again.
Chance’s exclamation brought her to the present. Morris wasn’t around any more, but Chance was. She had mourned him too long, it was time to continue with her life. *Goodbye Morris,* she said to herself and leaned on Chance, who was standing behind her. Since last night, she had felt relaxed and cheerful with him again. They had danced till midnight and then returned to their respective rooms, still inhibited with their repressed emotions.
“Did you know that “Iguazú” means agua grande, big water, in Guaraní?” she asked when she felt his arms close around her.
***
The jungle really was alive, thought Alessa as she guided Chance out of the tourist pathway into the green gallery of the forest and towards the bottom of the falls. She signaled and named the native flowers and trees that surrounded them. Begonias, orchids, ferns and palms blended together with pitangas and talas and they could see toucans, parrots and myriads of butterflies of all colors. As they entered the jungle, the bush grew thicker and Alessa took out the machete she had brought with her and started to cut their path inside.
She wanted to get to the “Garganta del Diablo”, the “Devil´s Gorge”. If her interpretations of the priest’s writings weren’t wrong that would be the place where they would find the flower they needed. Although the “Flor de la Pasión”, or mburucuyá, was common enough in all South America tropical regions, the kind they were looking for only grew in the mists of the “Devil´s Gorge”. She had seen only one such flower, since only the very courageous got to them. Usually fathers who wanted to protect their newborn babies, because the “Flor de la Virgen” was said to protect children from the Devil. If Morris had been right, the devil the Indians feared had been, in fact, Dathan, and the flower may really have some effect over him.
The way was hard and tiring, and Alessa and Chance took turns using the machete for what seemed like hours. However, when they finally got to the bottom of the gorge the view was so impressive that they didn’t even sit down to rest. In front of them plunging off from all sides, the river thundered down like an ocean pouring into an abyss. They felt small and puny against the grandeur of nature.
This is the "Garganta del Diablo":
“Do we really have to enter there?” asked Chance, and Alessa could understand his worries. The violence of the falling water seemed too much for mere creatures like themselves. They would have to cross the falling curtain to get to the place where the flower grew. It didn’t help that they were ending the raining season, thought Alessa. The river was at its full force and thousands and thousands of liters of water would fall over them if they tried to cross it. From where they stood, the gorge seemed impenetrable.
Tired and feeling defeated, Alessa stumped down. “We will have to,” she answered, “Although I don´t know how.” Shaking her defeat off she told him, “You know, according to legend the great waterfall was created in an outburst of rage by the Devil of the Iguazú River. This devil lived here, in the Garganta del Diablo.”
“He may have... ” answered Chance. Noticing his strange tone, Alessa looked at him, but Chance was looking towards the jungle’s border. He was very tense; rigid, in fact. Following his stare she looked towards the jungle too. Her face broke into a big smile when she saw what had him so worried. Standing silently against the bushes, half a dozen Verbatii were looking at them.
***
“He looks like Chewbacca,” whispered Chance to Alessa as the Verbati led them into the forest again.
“Shh!” she hushed, and added with merriment in her eyes, “She can understand you... You wouldn’t want to anger her, would you?”
Shaking his head, Chance watched the big demon that was leading them. The demoness was an 8ft tall humanoid, covered in brown fur. She had big claws in feet and hands, and despite her big size she moved silently in front of them opening their path with only her arms. Remembering how tiring that same task had felt to them he wondered about the strength of the silent creature.
In front of Chance, Alessa was talking softly to the Verbati in her own tongue. Although Verbatii could understand many languages they never spoke them, and in the same manner even if they were shapeshifters they rarely wore other form than their own. The Verbatii had shunned themselves from the world - few knew of them. Alessa´s mother had been an exception. She had always wanted to live in the world of men and had finally succeeded in doing so, although for only a little time. The hunting group had only approached Chance and Alessa because they had recognized her scent even though she didn’t recognize any of them. However, after she had told them about their problem they had decided to help them. Alessa supposed the demoness was taking them towards a shortcut through the gorge or something like that.
Some time later the Verbati came to a stop next to what seemed an endlessly high stone wall. Beside them, the water fell in all its violence towards the river. Speaking quickly in what sounded like growls and hisses, the demoness indicated a big vine that covered part of the stone wall. Alessa approached the thick vines and moved them aside, discovering a dark hole into the stone.
Without turning she said to Chance, “She says that this tunnel goes under the fall to the other side... the Verbatii use it when they go hunting.”
***
Alessa felt tired; they had been walking along the tunnel for two hours by then. If they didn’t get to the other side soon the batteries in her flashlight would run out. Chance walked silently in front of her, sometimes lending her a hand to descend some roughly cut steps. In fact silence surrounded them. They had stopped talking after the first kilometers, too tired to spend their energies thusly, and the sounds of the falling water had diminished to nothing as they descended through the tunnel. She couldn´t believe that they were actually traveling under the falls.
Her spirits rose when she started hearing the rumor of water again. The soft and dry walls of the tunnel gave way to wetness as they got to the end of the tunnel.
“I think we are getting there,” said Chance without looking at her. “I can see light ahead.”
Suddenly the tunnel ended, so abruptly that Chance almost fell. “Wow!” he said as he balanced precariously on the rim of a small ledge. Frightened, Alessa took his belt and pulled him towards her.
“You don´t need to do that to hold me, you know?” he joked as he looked at her frightened face.
“Don´t be silly!” she said impatiently, “You almost fell.”
The ledge they were in was small indeed, but a winding path descended from it towards the river beneath. Alessa looked down with curiosity. She had never been in this particular part of the waterfalls before, but when she looked up she couldn´t believe her eyes.
They were like in the middle of the water. Far below, the river flew, but above them, it seemed to flow too... Alessa was intrigued, how could this be? The water above them didn’t fall into the gorge itself, but seemed to cross high through it. Everything in between had a magical quality, like a land from a fantasy realm.
The light that came through the waters above was tinted in blue and green and gold, the mingled mist of the up and down water created hundreds of small rainbows. The flowers and plants seemed more exuberant and lush than on the other side of the tunnel and colorful birds and butterflies flew around them, too boldly to have known men before. All in all Alessa had never seen a more enchanting place.
Chance´s jaw hung wide open. Nothing he had ever seen was like this. It seemed in the last couple of days he had been hit by dozens of spectacular views; the waterfall from the other side, Alessa in her dress. And yet, what he was looking at now took that, combined it, and then multiplied it a thousand fold. He didn’t know how the water didn’t fall on them. It might be magic, it might be something else, he just didn’t know.
Chance turned to Alessa, and saw she was standing mouth agape too. He put his arms around her and she returned in kind. Suddenly, the moment went beyond perfect.
“C´mon,” Chance said at length. “We´d better go set up camp.”
They detached from each other and made their way down to the riverbank. Night was steadily approaching on them.
***
September 21st.
Hidden Gorge
night
“If this place looked magical at day, this is... awesome.” Alessa couldn´t find the words to describe the scene around them. Looking up, they couldn´t see the starry sky, but the curtain of water that covered them let the stars shine through and the moon’s pale light refracted and poured over them. The final effect was that of a tremulous crystal that moved and changed as they watched.
They had finished setting the tents for the night and Chance had started a small fire in the sandy beach by the river. Alessa felt languid and drowsy but couldn´t stop staring around. The temperature had descended and she couldn´t suppress a shiver. She braced herself and moved closer to the fire.
Noticing her shudder, Chance asked, “Cold? Here, put this on.” He placed his beloved jacket on her shoulders. Then he sat down besides her, and hugged her to give her warmth. “Strange, I thought tropical nights were warm...”
“They usually are,” she answered. “But this place is... different.” Straightening she signaled, “There! Saw that? There are hundreds of bichitos de luz, lightning bugs... ” And sighing again she leaned on his chest, contented. “It´s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”
“Why, I have... ” he said in a husky voice. Alessa looked at him and smiled as his lips pressed hers.
*I am ready for this?* she thought, and responded Chance´s kiss.
As the passion of the kiss increased, he slowly bent over her and they sank to the ground. Alessa felt the sand on her back and at the same time she ignored it. They were both concerned with the moment, a moment that was perfect in a magical place, a moment which was the beginning of something new and wonderful for the both of them, and in that moment nothing else mattered.
***
September 22nd.
Hidden Gorge
morning
"Wake up, lazybones!” she called Chance as she kissed him awake. She had woken up more than an hour ago but remained still, happily resting in the crook of his arm, listening to the steady beating of his heart and watching the water curtain change colors as dawn tinted the sky above it.
"Mmmmm... why the rush?” he said and, smiling, bent over her.
***
After having breakfast, Alessa and Chance set to explore the hidden gorge. They didn't have much time to find the flower. The astronomical calendar they had consulted set the solar eclipse on September 23rd. Noon, the same day of the equinox. That only gave them a day and a half, although they had gotten to the gorge far faster than Alessa had thought.
"Why don't we follow the river?” suggested Chance, "The jungle seems thicker there.”
Alessa nodded, following Chance's stare. The high walls of the gorge got closer together on the southern end, and vegetation grew wilder there.
"Fair enough,” she said, but before she could say anything else something attacked her, sending her hard on her face into the river's water.
"Chance!” she screamed when she got out of the water, sputtering and half blind with the sandy water. But he was being attacked as well, from the sounds of it. She didn't have more time to think when she felt strong hands on her throat. Training and experience took over and Alessa started fighting back.
*What is this?* she thought, still blinded by the sand on her eyes. She kicked the creature in the chest and sent it flying against a tree. Still in the water, Alessa washed her eyes clean, *I need some kind of weapon,* she thought as she saw the creature charge again.
Her eyes better she watched the charging creature, that looked too much like a ... vampire! Smiling, she waited for him. Vampires she could handle, and she never was without her wooden stake. Watching him the moment she dusted it, she realized that the vampire had the mark of the demon in his features... that's why she hadn't recognize it as one at first. That and the fact that it was day...
Frowning, she turned to Chance who had just finished dispatching his attacker. Panting, he approached her.
"You all right?” he asked, "how come there are... vampires here?”
"And at full sun's light... and they seemed very old too.”
"Strange... they weren't difficult to kill, either, for ancient vampires, I mean." shrugging he added, "this place gets weirder and weirder by the minute. *Not that I'm complaining, of course. At least I got to kill something*
They had not walked far, watching for more light resistant vampires all the time, when Alessa shouted and run towards a palm tree. "Look, there are flowers here!” In fact, climbing up the palm tree, there were the white and violet flowers they were looking for. Alessa picked one and showed it to Chance. It had delicate white petals around a corolla of violet streaked filaments.
"Strange flower... ” he said.
"Yes, its Guaraní name is "mburucuyá", although the Spanish priests called it "Flor de la Pasión", passion flower, because it symbolized the Passion of Jesus Christ. This kind in particular is called "Flor de la Virgen”, Virgin flower, because of its white petals, that symbolize purity, the other kinds have them red, like Jesus’ blood.”
She pointed the spikes crown, "See this corolla? Well, it represents Jesus Christ's crown of thorns. There are five stamens that stand for the five holy wounds, and this pistil divided in three... well, those are the three nails of the cross. There is more, the number of petals relate to the number of apostles too...”
Chance whistled at her words, "No wonder the priests considered it holy.”
Alessa chuckled, "Well, Christianity took a lot of things from other cultures and saw signs of God everywhere, but this flower is holy for both Christians and Guaranís alike, so there must be some truth in it. “She looked around, "And I've never seen so many flores de la virgen together before, they are very difficult to find.” In fact the big white and violet flowers were everywhere around them, intoxicating them with their sweet smell.
"C'mon, let's continue. I'm curious about that hill over there.” Chance said and pointed towards a low hill covered in green bush.
As they got closer Alessa said, "I don't think that's a hill, Chance.” He nodded, the hill was too symmetrical, too conical to be natural. Soon, they discovered a path leading towards the strange hill. The jungle had invaded it but it was still visible. Every hundred feet a massive stone column guarded the path, vines of mburucuyá or virgin flowers, climbing over them.
Curious Alessa approached one of the columns that still showed the stone beneath the leaves. "This doesn't look Guaraní,” she said as she discovered a carving on the stone. But when she saw it she stepped back as if burnt.
Chance looked at her pale face worried. "What is it? What did you see?” he asked and shoved the vines away himself. Beneath the leaves a carving of a big bat with a long tail was clearly distinguishable.
"Dathan!” he breathed, looking as shaken as she had.
Alessa and Chance shared a look. This was much more than they had expected to find...
“Do you think... I mean, I suppose it’s the only explanation, but...” Alessa couldn´t find the words, her mouth felt dry and pasted.
“Alessa! Don´t worry, dear... this is ancient, and we already knew that Dathan had lived in the area. This only confirms it.” he held her and kissed her softly. “Let´s continue, we must know what that hill really is.”
Alessa nodded, feeling a little ashamed of herself, but the sight of Dathan’s symbol had shaken her to the chore. She breathed in deep pants, and smiled to Chance who was looking at her with a concerned expression. *silly me,* she thought, *if I react like this to his symbol I will never be able to face him.*
“Let´s go.” she said and disentangling from his embrace started through the path again.
As they had suspected, the hill wasn’t really a hill, but a big pyramid like building, so covered with mburucuyá vines that its stone walls were completely hidden from view. The white flowers bright between the green leaves. In front of them opened a high square entrance, like a dark gaping mouth.
“That looks Mayan... like a Mayan temple.” said Chance, and Alessa had to agree with him.
Awed, she watched the big construction. She had never seen anything like that in that part of the continent. It reminded her of the Mesoamerican ruins she had visited with Morris.
“It isn´t Guaraní, that’s for sure. They never achieved this level of civilization.”
A sound startled them. They had been so fascinated by the building that they hadn’t noticed the creatures around them. About a dozen vampires were closing about them.
“Damn!” exclaimed Chance as he stepped in front of Alessa, guarding her with his body. Behind him, Alessa silently took her stake firmly in her hand and prepared to fight, turning around to face the vampires on the other side.
Back to back they watched the vampires. Like the ones who had attacked them before, they had the mark of the beast on them...
"PYTA!!!”
A shout sounded behind them. Surprised they looked back. A very old Indian stood in the building’s entrance. His dark skin was like wrinkled parchment and his body frail and bended, however irradiating a feeling of great power. His brow and cheeks were deeply tattooed, marking him as a Shaman.
Looking again to the vampires, Alessa saw that they retreated, afraid, going silently back to the jungle from where they had come. After they were gone, the Shaman spoke again.
"Tape§uahe porâite!” he said. At first Alessa didn’t understand him, but then the words sounded right in her ears.
“He speaks an old form of Guaraní.” she told Chance, “He´s welcoming us.” when the old man continued talking she frowned “I think he wants us to follow him inside.” Her words contained a question for Chance to answer.
“So we go,” he said, still watching the jungle. “staying here is not a good option, either.”
She nodded and hurried behind the Shaman who had already disappeared through the temple’s entrance.
The inside of the temple was like a labyrinth of columns. Light poured from small skylights hidden among the carvings of the high ceiling. The Shaman guided them along that column forest towards its center, where a great square was opened to the sky above. In its center stood a lonely massive block of stone, clearly an altar. Dathan’s bat symbol was carved in all its sides. Around and above it, more mburucuyá vines grew, the flowers but white buds still.
The Shaman faced them and started talking. Alessa listened intently and sometimes interrupted him with a question. Chance watched the exchange with interest, not wanting to interrupt them, but intrigued about the situation.
“He says that he had been waiting for us” translated Alessa, “that the great white shaman...” she looked at Chance, excited, “Morris -I suppose- told him that somebody would come to pick the flowers on and finally destroy the "Ñaña", the Devil.”
The Shaman spoke a little more and when he finished Alessa continued translating.
“The "Ñaña” lived here because the "ysyry-yvága", the sky-river, protected him from the sun and he could walk in broad daylight. He built this temple and demanded sacrifices and slaves. The "Ñe´êndy", the Guaranís, served him for many years until they discovered how to destroy him...”
Alessa asked something and the old man continued.
“The flower, the flowers were the key... they diminish vampire’s strength and powers, that’s why his ancestors planted them all over the gorge, so the Devil couldn´t come back...”
The Shaman pointed to the buds on the altar and started talking again.
“Those can destroy him... if picked in the right time. They only bloom at the time when the sun turns off on the day that light lasts as long as darkness...”
“The eclipse on the equinox day... Tomorrow.” whispered Chance and Alessa nodded.
The Shaman continued.
“They tried to kill him before, but couldn´t. The earth shook and the abyss opened, thus the "Iguazú Ytororô", the falls, were created.”
Alessa looked at Chance, her eyes alight with understanding. “Remember the legend?” He nodded.
“The Devil wasn’t destroyed but left the area, the Shamans put the flower on the altar where he had drunk the "tuguy", blood, of so many of their people, and it took roots on the stone itself, waiting for the day when it would bloom again.” She watched the white buds, they seemed to grow right from the stone indeed.
“Ask him about the vampires outside.” said Chance and Alessa did so.
“They are what remains of the Devil’s slaves, they got trapped in the gorge after the cataclysm... and they have lived here since then.”
“And when was that?” he asked.
“He says that hundreds of generations ago... I don´t think he can really tell, but I suppose that those astronomical events cannot coincide very often.”
“But, then those vampires may be hundreds, even thousands of years old... they should be more powerful!”
“Remember that the flowers weaken them, and if they can´t leave the gorge they probably haven’t drunk human’s blood in centuries.”
“That could be it.” He granted. “Is he going to help us?” he asked signaling the Shaman with his head.
“He will, he says that we can stay the night in the temple, to be here when the flower opens tomorrow.”
“Good.” he said, watching around, the place didn’t seem very comfortable but they would have to make do. They couldn´t risk not being there at the right time.
*** end of Flashback ***
Alessa had told him all that happened in Paraguay, but what concerned her relationship with Chance, Ernie noticed. Not that he didn’t suspect, of course. Alessa glowed every time she mentioned his name, love written in her eyes. Ernie smiled to himself, it was time that she got over his late friend and allowed herself to love again.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 7th
The Laughing Dog
lunch time
“He’s late,” Chance said, checking his watch for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. “Do you think he’s ok? I hope he’s ok.”
Alessa smiled, hugging him closely and kissing him on the cheek. They were standing outside the Laughing Dog waiting to speak to Cole on their success in Paraguay. Once he arrived they were going to have lunch together.
“I’m sure he’s fine. People are allowed to be late, you know. And he sounded fine on the phone,” she winked at him.
“Yeah I guess. Still-”
“Hey, guys!” Cole called to them, cutting Chance off. He was approaching on foot and waving. “Did you miss me?”
“Hello Cole!” Alessa waved back, hugging the kid. “Chance was killing me with his anxiety, thank God you showed up or I would have had to gag him,” she laughed.
Cole smiled as he reciprocated her warm hug.
“Hey, you guys look like you had a good time,” he chuckled as the three entered the tacky restaurant. He was happy they had finally hooked up, he had known it had only been a matter of time. “So any new developments with the big bad vamp?” he asked quietly so no one else could hear. Deep down, he hoped they were no closer. He didn’t want them going against something so powerful and evil. He worried that if they did, he might lose them both.
“Well, we did get the flower if that’s what you are asking,” Alessa answered when they sat down. “It’s secure at home, bathing in the Iguazú water. We have to change the water every night, though, or it won't survive until the ritual.”
“Sure, I knew you’d find it. Was it as difficult to get it as you thought?” asked Cole.
“That, kid, is a long story,” interrupted Chance.
*** flashback ***
September 23rd, equinox day.
Hidden Gorge
Alessa and Chance spent the night on the cold floor of the temple, next to Dathan’s altar. Nightmares plagued Alessa’s dreams and she woke before dawn to find Chance awake too.
“Bad dreams?” he asked, holding her close. At her nod, he said, “I didn’t sleep well, either. It must be this place. Bad vibes, you know.”
She smiled weakly but couldn’t agree more. The place was full of yesterday’s suffering and sorrow; Dathan’s cruelty seemed to pour from the stones, even after so many years.
“C’mon, let’s try to sleep a little more,” said Chance, “This is going to be a long day.”
He wrapped her strongly in his arms. Sighing, Alessa closed her eyes again, comforted by the feeling of his arms around her. When they next woke up, the sun had already risen and the Shaman was in front of them telling them to get ready for the picking of the flower.
Alessa had brought an acrylic box to put the flower in. It was hermetic because she had to put some of the Iguazú river water in it too. The Shaman had explained to her that she must change the water daily or the flower wouldn’t survive until the day of the ritual, so Alessa sent Chance to the river to fill two big tanks with the holy river’s water. When he came back the time of the eclipse was almost upon them.
They watched the altar slowly sink into shadows as the sun was gradually covered by the moon and the sunlight diminished. Soon the obscurity was complete, like a moonless night. The three of them maintained an awed silence as other sources of light started to brighten. The white buds of the Flores de la Virgen were finally blooming and they illuminated everything with an inner light.
With wonder and awe in her eyes, Alessa saw how light from the delicate flowers bathed them in all their glory. She breathed in, as she felt the power and goodness of the flowers rake through her. She felt more than saw how Chance straightened and closed his eyes in marvel at what was happening too. The Shaman sank to his knees and bowed deeply before the altar. Later, neither Alessa nor Chance could determine how much time they had spent like that, just watching, only that the feeling of goodness that had filled them took days to fade.
“Ytá!” said the Shaman finally.
He had stood up and was pointing towards the flowers, breaking the spell that had kept them immobile. Remembering why she was there, Alessa quickly approached the flowers and cut one of them with the silver knife the old man had given her. As she cut the stem, brilliant drops poured from it, like liquid light, staining her hands and bare feet. Trembling, she placed the alight flower inside the box that already contained water. The moment she closed it she noticed that the rest of the flowers' light began to die away at the same time that the darkness receded. The eclipse was over.
***
The Shaman accompanied them to the entrance of the tunnel all the while talking quietly to Alessa, giving counsel on how to keep the flower glowing, because although the rest of the flowers had faded and died, the one inside the box was still alight in all its splendor.
When they got to their destination Chance and Alessa bowed and thanked him for all his help. The Shaman put a hand on each of their brows and prayed softly, blessing them. Alessa, never very religious, felt deeply touched by the gesture. If they were to face Dathan, they would need all the prayers they could get, she thought.
*** end of Flashback***
“But enough about that,” Chance said jovially, “What have you been up to?”
Cole smiled as if pleased with himself. He had managed to make some real great progress in the last few weeks in terms of his occult abilities. He was so happy to be able to tell someone, and even happier that there were people actually interested enough in his life to want to listen.
“Well, ever since I tried to break spell on the diary, I realized I needed to work a lot on my magic, you know. So, anyway, I’ve been practicing tons, and something really cool happened.” He paused for effect, leaning on them, “Before, I used to get feelings every now and then; like I knew something was going to happen. Well now, I can control that feeling to actually actively ‘read’ people.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Alessa asked, not quite understanding where Cole was going with this.
“Well watch this. See that guy over there?” he said pointing to a man in his early thirties. “He’s cheating on his wife with the baby-sitter. And the girl at the cash register, she’s about to drop her drink.” Sure enough, a second later coke splashed all over the counter top.
“That’s pretty impressive Cole, can you do us?” Chance asked excitedly.
“It’s actually a lot harder with people I know. It seems like my personal feelings get in the way.”
Chance was about to say something when he noticed Cole’s attention had been drawn to the door. The young teen’s eyes were fixed on the man who had just entered. He was young, probably 22, 23 max. He wondered why it was Cole was so interested in him. Maybe he was some actor from a cheesy teen television show; he certainly had the look down.
“Cole, is there anything wrong?" Alessa asked.
“He’s…” he stopped squinting his eyes as if concentrating harder. “There is something really odd about him. It's weird, its like there’s a strong feeling of good coming from him, but also a wave a real darkness, and then on top of that, another feeling of good…” Cole said more to himself than to them.
“That’s pretty odd,” Chance said taking greater interest in the man. He too felt something weird, as if he knew this guy from somewhere.
“And I can't shake the feeling that something really bad is going to happen to him soon,” Cole said, saddened.
After paying for his order and taking the two bags Darian had turned to leave, but something caught his eye. Over at a table, sitting with a women and a teen was someone who looked strangely familiar. He stopped a second trying to place the man, but he never could. Shrugging, he walked out of the Laughing Dog and back towards his apartment.
Although Darian didn’t know who he was, deep inside his soul, the spirit of Evexus was rumbling with a mixture of joy and rage. There he was, the same knight that had helped imprison him so long ago, the bastard Templar.
He would have his revenge.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday, October 3, 2006 around 3:30pm
*There is no reason for me to cry today,* Zoë thought as she looked in her mailbox. She felt like her eyes were always red and her nose was always running from one disaster or another. *Who did I piss off in the cosmos to deserve all the pain I have in my life?*
She closed the mailbox door and looked into the face of a dreamy muscular man with shoulder-length dark hair. He smiled at her and she started to fall into his arms quite innocently lost in his eyes but he gripped her shoulders and caught her handbag and mail as it tumbled from her suddenly nerveless fingers.
He laughed nervously as he gently righted her, "Hello… Zoë," he said looking at her mail, "My name is Ozimandus - Ozzy for short - I have seen you around but I didn't expect you to fall for me so quickly."
She giggled nervously *Get a grip woman. You didn't act like this even when Hugh Jackman grabbed your ass at the premier of X-men Three.*
"I'm kidding," he said, "just in case you didn't catch that."
Zoë began to blush. She could feel it and hated herself for doing it. "I got it. I'm Zoë by the way - Zoë for short."
The handsome man nodded politely. "I've only been in this building a month or so, so I am glad to have a friend I can call on. Where do you live?"
Zoë indicated with her free hand hoping to distract him from her face that refused to hide her embarrassment in any way. He looked and nodded, "I'm on the lower floor, down there. I like keeping my feet on the ground as much as possible. Do you live near Lou… Lewis I think it was?"
Zoë nodded, struck suddenly dumb at Ozzy's attention. Ozzy continued, "He gave me his card in the parking lot the other day."
Zoë swallowed and tried to sound as if she knew more than hand symbols and blatant body language, "You drive that nice green Carmen Ghia, don't you?"
Ozzy laughed, "Yes, it was one of the few things I kept after my wife…"
"Left you?" Zoë said softly at his unfinished thought.
"She died," he said plainly.
Zoë fought the urge to start to weep on this stranger and sniffed once instead. "Nice to meet you, Ozzy. Take care and who knows maybe we will bump into each other again."
Wednesday, October 4, 2006 around 8:30am
The next day Zoë had to remind herself to not look around for Ozzy as she was leaving for work. She had a three table buffet to set up for an album launch at Sony Music at 1pm and she was damned if she was going to let her worry for Kolya and her fascination with the hunky neighbor make her late.
A few hours later, when Stephen Tyler was asking for a second helping of 'those little hot wings' she couldn't seem to make herself care much. All she could see was her daydream of Kolya disappearing and coming back as a tall dark-haired warrior-savage dressed in denim and walking her way…
"Ozzy?" she gasped.
"Yes, I used a little charm to convince them I had something important to give you. Not a complete lie, but you did leave your electric bill in the hallway. I thought I'd return it in person." He looked back over his shoulder, " But I think I may have to be in a music video on Saturday."
She laughed. "I'm seeing someone," she blurted out.
Stephen Tyler took the opportunity to break the awkward silence, "Um, miss? The wings?"
Wednesday, October 4, 2006 around 4:30pm
Ozzy sat in the second-hand recliner he had gotten for the apartment. He had almost felt like normal, like had had found someone; that he could love again. Easy as that. But like all illusions of the normalcy he had sought it wasn't normal. It was complicated.
He stood up and grabbed an armload of clothes from the dryer and threw them onto the floor in the 'clean pile' and picked up a load from the 'dirty pile' to toss into the washer. As he cranked the knobs and started the washer he had a sudden urge to get out of the house. He really wanted to get out of the rut but he could not seem to figure out which way to go.
So he went up... up the stairs to Zoë's apartment. He knocked on the door. A boy answered the door. He opened it a crack and peered out with one eye and challenged the visitor, "Who goes there?"
Ozzy bent down and said, "Friend of your mother. Ozzy."
"Mom!" the cry sounded as the door slammed shut only to open a moment later. Zoë stood there in the doorway in an old sweat shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with 80's style leggings and ratty tennis shoes. Her hair was up in a topknot. She looked hideous.
"Oh. You aren’t Lewis!" The door slammed shut once more.
When the door opened a few seconds later it was the boy again, "Mom said to let you in and to make you stay in the living room."
Ozimandius held out a hand, "Thanks, soldier. I'm Ozzy. What's your name?"
Ben was thrilled he had been called a soldier, nobody every called him that before. Once one of his mommy's clients had called him 'cowboy' but he liked 'soldier' better. "I'm Ben. Wanna see my guns?"
He led Ozzy into the living room and soon had arrayed a collection of plastic ray-guns, pistols, rifles, and things all over the floor so he could demonstrate his deadly accuracy with them. Ozzy was enjoying the war-play and wasn't really prepared when Ben dove onto him with a rubber bayonet and began jabbing him.
"Benjamin Thomas Taylor, stop that this instant!" the unmistakable tone of motherhood resounded through the living room.
Ben and Ozzy stood sheepishly and Ben ran to his mother's side, suddenly coy in her presence. She had changed into a cute pink T-shirt and clean blue jeans and had brushed her long blonde hair into some semblance of order. "Sorry to make you wait, Oz."
"Oz?"
"Yes, Oz," she said, "You don't look like an 'Ozzy' to me. That is the name of a 60-year old auto mechanic. Its so… 50's. 'Oz' is hip, it’s cool. It suits you."
"Oz it is then. Listen, I wanted to talk. Just talk… nothing in it. I need to talk to someone. It's been a while."
Zoë needed to talk too but she would listen to his sob-story first before she got to her own. She pointed to the balcony, "Want some tea?" she asked.
"Just water, thanks," said Oz.
Ben busied himself straightening up his toys at his mother's directive. Zoë carried two classes of water with ice outside.
The day was warm for October with the sun making her put on a pair of sunglasses by habit. Oz sat in one of the comfortable chairs and began to talk about his wife. Zoë cried softly for him and he cried in the telling of it. But twenty minutes later they were sitting comfortably in silence and sipping the melting ice of their drinks.
Ben watched TV in the living room and so Oz signaled her to start dumping on him by asking about Ben's father. The story flowed, she had told that one many times. Kolya had heard it too, in the beginning. But as she talked about Kolya and his mysterious disappearance, she could tell that Oz was not asking her to repeat anything in disbelief… nor was he looking baffled.
"You know about them don't you?" she asked.
"Who?" Oz asked innocently.
Zoë began to get angry. All her frustrations and pain and worry ignited like a fire in her stomach and she shrieked at Oz, "Them! The boogie men, the demons, the hateful fucking aliens that stole him!" She pounded Oz's chest as he tried to grab her hands in defense.
Zoë began to cry and Ben, hearing his mommy in distress, grabbed his best weapon ever. The Lightsaber. He ran to the balcony and jumped onto the table and launched himself at Oz just like Anakin Skywalker.
Oz reacted with a warrior's instinct to deflect the blow and Ben sailed past him and over the side. Zoë nearly dove over herself if Oz had not shoved her back from the edge. He vaulted the low rail and fiery wings erupted from his back. He soared out over the ground and caught Ben before his trajectory had fallen even a few feet. He flapped the massive blazing wings once and looped back and landed square footed on the balcony.
Ben had one word to say about his near death plummet: "Cool!"
Zoë's reaction was equally awed. She hugged Ben, looked at Oz, said, "You bastard!" then fainted.
*****
When Zoë awoke she found Oz and Ben playing video games on the floor. She was lying on the couch and Ben was asking a million questions, and Oz had apparently been answering them all the same way, "Ask you mother a little later about that."
Oz stood when he noticed her. Ben just ran and hugged her, "Oz is an Angel, but he says he isn't an Angel any more but he still has those cool wings and he said if you let me he might be able to let me fly with him sometime unless you don't, then…"
Zoe 'hushed' the child who waited patiently for her to say 'yes' or 'no'. She looked at Oz with clear loathing in her eyes. "You are one of them aren't you. Well you can't have him. Get the hell out of my house and don't come back. Ben won't go with you, ever. He's mine, see? He won't go anywhere. He stays here!"
Her voice was a hysterical shriek as she shoved Oz from the apartment and slammed the door.
Oz stood in the doorway and stared a long time at the silent door. He walked back downstairs to his small apartment and started yet another load of complicated laundry.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, 9th October 2006 – 9:15pm
*This really is the best thing to do. It is.* Tash pulled drawers full of clothes from her dresser and stacked them on the floor. For such a short move there wasn't a need to pack carefully. And since the penthouse was already furnished, all she needed were clothes, weapons and personal items. While she worked she kept a constant litany going in her head. *It's best this way. Not so many reminders up there. And better security, of course. Yes, it makes perfect sense.*
Once all her stuff was arrayed on the bedroom floor, Tash began the process of transporting everything to her new home. She hefted the first few drawers of clothes in her arms and made her way to the foot of the stairs to the third floor. At the bottom, she rested them with a loud 'thunk' on the railing to settle the weight a little more comfortably before she began the climb.
After having slept through the whole of an afternoon, moving on into the night, Reah’d woken with a start and flopped off the living room couch onto polished wooden floorboards. Since the return from G’rnatha, Reah had spent most of her time inspecting her apartment for signs of broken entry, stolen assets, bugs, anything! She found it bad enough that she’d lost so much time, let alone have her home unguarded. The remainder of her time was spent reorganising her living area to something a little less like a battlefield, and a little more like a habitable space she could shove her guests without worry. Plans to even visit a furniture store had been made!
But for now, she had other appointments she had to attend to. Rushing about her bedroom she scavenged and ploughed through the mess littering her floors. It took a moment for her to register, when she stopped briefly to slink into one of her loose tops, a competing racket emanating from the outer hallway.
“Tash?” Reah poked her head curiously around her front door at the woman awkwardly lugging a drawer full of clothes out of the apartment next to her.
The sound of Reah's voice startled Tash for a moment, then she looked up, abashed. "Yeah. Sorry about the noise, Reah. Check it out - I can kill vampires with my bare hands, but can't lug a couple of drawers up the stairs without waking all the neighbours."
She left her burden resting on the rail a moment longer as she appraised the young woman before her. Reah's eyes held a slightly wild look in them and Tash sighed sadly at the inadvertent trauma her friends had been put through on G'rnatha. "So, how are you adjusting? It's a bit weird, being back," she observed.
“Que sera,” Reah smiled pleasantly back at her friend, then frowned at herself, “Or however you say it. Either way… these things seem to have a way of happening to me. I think I’ll be able to deal.”
She gestured with her hands, offering to help with Tash’s burden. “How ‘bout you?” she said with a softer, comforting tone to offer more support, “You know you can drop in any time you want. I’ve even made the effort to make the apartment presentable.” Grinning, she added, “Going furniture shopping and all tomorrow.”
"What, actual real furniture?" Tash started to laugh, but sobered quickly. "And I'm doing ok, I guess. Thanks for the offer; I daresay I'll be taking you up on it. I just spent the afternoon with Kate, actually. I had to tell her about... you know... Victor."
Tash swallowed and glanced down at the drawers she was balancing on the handrail. "But she told me some stuff, too. If you don't mind lending a hand here, I can tell you as we go."
Reah nodded solemnly, replying in acquiescence as she eased the load off Tash’s arms. It was strange when someone was gone and you knew, despite all efforts at disbelief, that they weren’t coming back. She remembered the feeling just after she’d lost her parents, but of course, that was slightly closer to home for her. Just like Victor to Tash.
“So… what’s the new triple ‘O’?”
"You mean 911, now that you're in America, right?" Tash winked.
The two of them reached the top of the stairs and laid the drawers down on the bed. "We'll get the rest of these drawers, then the dresser. The rest of my furniture is staying downstairs, though." At Reah's raised eyebrow Tash flushed slightly.
"It's just that it's too tempting with all that stuff there. Things that Victor had touched and used. I could get lost in memories if I let myself," Tash explained, looking down at her hands encased in their black leather prisons. "It's better that I'm up here, where there are fewer... distractions. Especially with the new threat. Which," Tash noted, aware she was beginning to babble again, "you're waiting to hear about."
Reah smirked with a twinge of amusement, "Don't worry. I thank you for giving me a break from being the babbling one. I've had way too much practise." Smiling, she allowed way for Tash to continue, "Take your time; I understand."
Taking a deep breath, Tash simply launched into it. "Ok, well, remember that second Elder we knew about just before we got dragged off to G'rnatha?"
Reah nodded.
“Well, it seems all four of them are in LA now. I don't know if you've ever heard of them, but together they call themselves The Brotherhood and they're all in the vicinity of a couple of thousand years old or so. Except Dathan, he's around four or five thousand."
Reah blinked, opened her mouth, then blinked again, "O…kay then! This could prove interesting."
"Very." Tash led the way back down the stairs and while they gathered up more drawers and some loose clothing, she continued.
”It seems they've been busy in the three months while we were having a week's all-expenses paid holiday in sunny G'rnatha. In short, the Slayer's dead. Turned by the Brotherhood, but that's not all. They used some sort of ritual to gain power from each subsequent Slayer death, of which there have been five more to date. Sorrow, Kate and Daye have hold of some diary or other which apparently contains a spell to take out the Elders. They have the ingredients, which will be ready by about the end of the month."
Tash paused for breath, looking to see if all that had sunk in. More slowly she added, "But they don't know where The Brotherhood are. Kate said they were trying locator spells, but no joy. So tomorrow I'm going to start using more mundane methods."
*Hmm! Already have all the ingredients for a spell to take out the Elders!* Reah mused thoughtfully to herself as she followed behind Tash, transporting the drawers as she continued to talk. “Any plan of attack? For finding them I mean.”
Dumping one final armful of clothes onto Reah's outstretched arms, Tash answered, "Well, nothing sophisticated. Just head out, see if I can find any of their minions and smash a few heads until one talks. You know, the usual," Tash grinned. The smile faded, though, when she noticed that over Reah's shoulder she could see into the open closet to where Victor's clothes hung. She reached past Reah and gently closed the door, then scooped up her assigned bundle of shirts and a drawer of undies and silently led the way back out to the front door.
Reah slowly followed behind, deep in thought and half muttering to herself with her head facing downward into Tash’s shirts and knickers, *There’s got to be some trail.* “No such thing as an absolute…”
"Hmm?" Tash turned around, her hand on the doorknob that led to the hallway, having been jolted from her thoughts of Victor by Reah's muttered rambling. "An absolute what?"
“Hmm?” Reah practically mirrored Tash as her attention snapped back up from her deeply set pondering, “I was just thinking… um….” Frowning, she focused on the possible alternatives that could be floating around, ones that could save time if they existed, “You said that they couldn’t be found with locator spells?”
Tash nodded.
“Well… no one can just disappear without a trace, and we can’t rely on the reliability of minions, even ones that have appointments with eagerly awaiting sledgehammers. What do they have to gain from telling us, anyway?”
Reah raised her eyebrows seriously over the bundle of clothes, then continued to her point. “There’s got to be reports, physical trails, something! Video surveillance even!” She shrugged, “It’d be much quicker besides.”
"Well, maybe. But really, who has time to sift through tons of newspaper articles? And we don't really have access to police files or security camera tapes." Tash eyed Reah quizzically, noting the woman's strange expression, "Unless there's something you're not telling me?"
Reah’s show of teeth was incorrigible as they near split her face in two. Her features suddenly softened again in remembrance of why Tash probably wasn’t aware, but quickly replaced them, adorning a subtly smug smile, “I forgot you didn’t know: I’ve got a new toy.” She blinked as if to show it off… not that she expected Tash would actually notice the significance of the slight movement.
"New...? Oh yes." The events in Z'thrukaht's cavern were a vague, hazy blur to Tash, but she was able to dredge up bits of it. "Darian got Sebastian back, Kolya had his new car. I don't know what Alice got... And I seem to remember you asked for something to do with communication?"
Tash shuddered when she recollected the Creator's offer to her - for a 'replacement' Victor. As if anything could take the place of that wondrous, bright soul. Lost in reverie once more, it took Tash a moment to realise that Reah was still looking at her. Sympathy etched lines in Reah's features, yet there was an underlying excitement as though she had an idea she was bursting to impart.
“Yeah,” Reah replied lightly with mixed emotions, “I suppose you’d call it an interface unit. To explain it generally: it basically links to me physically. It retrieves just about anything I need and reports it to me no matter where I am.” Reah sniffed, “And that’s definitely the very general explanation.”
Her hand still on the doorknob, Tash's eyes lit up. "You mean you could, like, hack into any computer system you want and retrieve files? What about security - passwords and whatnot? Yeah, that would make finding them a lot easier. If you could get reports of deaths and missing persons - there are so few vampires left in this city that any abnormal activity would just about pinpoint the Brotherhood for us."
Tash grabbed Reah's arm eagerly, not minding the cascade of shirts that fell to the floor as a result. "Can you do it now? Do you need to plug into anything for it to work?"
“Whoa!” Reah jumped in surprise, thankful for her reflexes that saved her toes from an untimely crushing. “Um… yes? I mean….” she shook her head, recovering, “Yes. Anywhere, anytime. It can’t hack into whatever the hell I want, at least not without extra help to do the more complex hackings. And I can assure you right now, that there’s not a single bug, camera, surveillance team or anyone spying on Poplar Avenue.” She smirked deviously, “At least none working properly.”
Tash blinked. "Well, apart from the ones Ian set up for us, I trust." She bent and collected her dropped clothes before straightening again. "Ok, so can you get into enough stuff to get some locations of murders, missing persons, etc? Cause of death would be most helpful. Maybe the coroner's office would be easier than the police?"
Reah nodded, assuring Tash that she was aware of Ian’s system and that it had been left untouched. “I’ll definitely look into it.” She shrugged, “I haven’t really had it all that long to learn its limitations yet. So far I’ve only been fiddling around with it casually, you know: surfing the web, watching Futurama while food shopping, taking and making calls… I’m going to buy a computer. I want to see if I can download songs to it.” Reah rambled on as her focus and concentration altered slightly.
Mechanically, she followed in Tash’s example and picked up the items she’d let drop. Her eyes, however, somehow seemed unfocused. It was almost like she was gazing into an alternate plane: one not of the physical realm.
Tash watched her friend, thinking that maybe she should sit Reah down, but she seemed perfectly able to move and function, albeit somewhat distractedly. Still, the move could wait a little while, so Tash gently prised the bundles of clothes from Reah's arms and set them down before steering the woman to the sofa. She perched on the edge of the coffee table and watched Reah's eyes flickering back and forth, as though she were reading something hovering in the air before her.
“Hmm…” Reah smiled pleasantly, reflecting on her good fortune. She loved her latest enhancement, even if it did involve slug like thingies. Files and reports filtered across her vision like a heavily subtitled movie. She sorted through the multiple documents systematically, briefly scanning over each and every one, shuffling back, double-checking things that caught her attention. It seemed never-ending! “Well… that’s interesting! Someone’s been working hard.” Reah mused aloud.
"Yeah? What have you found?”
“It’s nearly more like what haven’t I found,” she sniffed thoughtfully, “It’s almost like someone’s strapped 600 kilogram army packs to all the vamps in town. There’s been a massive decline in mysterious deaths and missing persons throughout all LA! Well… nearly.”
Reah paused momentarily while she thought over what she was finding, doubling back and checking suspicions. “Either someone’s been doing some serious city cleaning, dusting the streets… or they’ve just opened up a Maccas for vamps around West Hollywood…”
"Hmm. Yeah, Sorrow said that the Brotherhood had been taking out the local vamps, so we’d expect a decline overall. Well, I think we have a starting place then. West Hollywood, here I come!" Tash's smile was more than a little feral.
She looked down at the mess still strewn around her apartment. "Though first I should finish moving, I guess," she sighed.
Reah quickly snatched her hand back into her lap when she realised she'd been fingering the tiny lump behind her ear again, then chuckled. "Yeah... I think I might help you with that.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday, 10th October 2006 – 10:03am
Darian stared at the door of apartment 205 with reluctance. What could he say to make her feel any better? Although he had no idea what he could tell Tash, he knew he had to try something. Finally, bringing his hand up he knocked gently three times. "Tash, it’s Darian," he said softly.
Tash was upside down, her head buried deep in the bowels of the bathtub in her old flat. She had spent most of the morning cleaning up the place, not willing to leave it as a total shambles before she settled into her new apartment. A dim knocking came to her ears, and she lifted her head from the tub to listen properly. She heard nothing more, but curiosity got the better of her and she decided to check anyway, just in case someone was there.
She opened the door a crack, then widened it when she saw Darian in the hallway. "Hello Darian," she smiled faintly. "Come on in, I'm just doing some tidying up."
Darian walked in awkwardly, at first avoiding eye contact with Tash. He wanted so much to comfort his friend, but he was never good in situations like these.
"Tash," he said quietly, finally allowing his gaze to meet her eyes. He could tell they hid such sorrow, such pain. "I want you to know that I wanted to come by sooner, but with Seb and everything…" he cut himself off, not wanting to bring up his happiness when she was in such misery.
"Tash, I wanted you to know how sorry I am. I am not going to pretend to know what you are going through, but I want you to know that I’m here for you," he said, his face full of compassion and caring.
Tash clasped Darian's hand. "I know, and thanks," she said. "It's been tough, but it's supportive friends like you that make it somehow a little bearable."
She gestured around the flat, still furnished but now lacking what few knick-knacks she'd ever had. "I've started to move upstairs - there are too many memories in this place." Her gaze fell on the empty space against the living room wall where once the Stone of Ghortab had rested. "It's too empty now," she whispered.
Sensing Darian's awkwardness she smiled, trying to put him at ease. "But I'll be ok, I think. I've got things to keep me busy now. There's..." Tash paused. She wasn't sure Darian would want to hear about the troubles with the Brotherhood, but with the upcoming confrontation they could really use all the help they could get.
"Sit down, I've got some news to tell you," she said, gesturing to the couch. "I'm sorry I can't offer you a drink, but I've already taken my glasses upstairs."
"Thats ok," he said making his way to the sofa. Darian wasn’t sure what was going on. He hadn’t expected Tash to react this way. In his experience people who had gone through what she did would be a weeping mess, but instead Tash seemed to keep herself composed.
"Why do I have a feeling what you're going to tell me is not something I want to hear?" The fae quickly realized that something really important must be happening to keep the woman's mind off the death of her husband.
"None of us wanted to hear it, trust me. But it's happening," Tash replied. And to herself she thought, *And just as well, too. I'd hate to have nothing to do... I'd be a mess.* She felt wetness gathering in the corners of her eyes just thinking about Victor, and quickly moved on to the task at hand.
"There are some Elder vampires in the city. One has been here for some time, and we learned of a second on the day we," she took a deep breath, "went to G'rnatha." Tash plunged on, "But now there are four. Well, technically one of them is an Ancient - he's anything up to 5,000 years old. They're powerful, and they've turned the Slayer. They used her for some sort of ritual to increase their power even more, apparently. But my friends have been busy finding a way to stop them, and we think they have it."
Tash was about to explain the ritual, but Darian cut her off. "That’s really, really mind blowing Tash, and I you know you can count on me when it comes time to deal with them, but right now I’m more interested in knowing that you're going to make it. And I don’t mean make it through this vampire apocalypse, I mean make it through what happened."
He stopped a moment to consider exactly what he was going to say. "When Seb was put in the amethyst and I got turned into a faery way back when, I didn’t think I could go on. It felt like I had lost everything, like I had lost all my love for life," he continued looking Tash in the eyes. "But eventually, time goes on, and you realize that you have to keep going. Especially you Tash, you do so much good here in LA, you can’t stop that. Victor wouldn’t want you to stop that. You're stronger than I was... than I am Tash, and look – I managed to make it through."
Tash dropped her eyes, no longer able to keep Darian's gaze. His words echoed exactly how she felt. She felt like she'd lost everything, had no reason to go on. It was only the thought that there was work to do that kept her going at all. And even then... Kate had been right, partly, last night. The wicca had felt something in Tash that Tash herself hadn't recognised yet, maybe because she was so wrapped up in it. Self-destructive tendencies? Maybe.
Her voice was subdued when she finally spoke. "I feel like he's just going to appear. He's just in the office or something, and any minute now he's going to walk in that door and take me in his arms. But he doesn't. He never will."
"He may not be here, but we are," the fae replied, enveloping Tash in a strong hug.
Tash let herself sink into that comforting hold. The tears were never very far away, and now they flowed - silently at first, but growing into wracking sobs. "I'm sorry," she sniffled between bouts of howling, "I thought I had all this out yesterday with Kate."
Words degenerated into more desolate weeping, and Darian patted her back soothingly. "It's ok. It's all right," he spoke in a calming tone, "Just let it all out, Tash."
She had no idea how long they sat like that, but it wasn't until Darian was long gone, with promises to keep an eye on her, that Tash realised she'd never got around to telling him the rest of the information they had about the Brotherhood. *I'm sure I'll see him again soon,* she thought.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Tuesday, 10th October 2006 – 10:15pm
Dathan strode down the street, his huge frame like the prow of a ship causing ripples in the sea of humanity that broke and swirled behind him. He sniffed the air, his senses sharper than ever before and he gloried in the abundance of new energy that suffused him. Krispin had been right, all those years, to plot and plan. Such intricate plots were never Dathan’s way, but he nevertheless appreciated the benefits that Krispin’s meticulous planning had yielded.
Tonight, though, he was looking for something of a simpler nature. One of his brood had spotted the potential in a young man a couple of nights ago and had alerted Dathan to the possibility of a new minion. Dathan had since watched the young man and had sensed some power in him that called to Dathan’s nature. For all Dathan’s directness, he did appreciate something rare and fine.
The pair of figures expanded in his field of view as Dathan drew closer to them, so Dathan slowed his pace to await their mistake, for surely, sooner or later they would stray from the populated main streets, and that was the time to strike. For all their new power, the Elders were not yet ready to operate under the full scrutiny of the general public. Though, Dathan grinned, it would almost be worth hearing Valerian’s venomous, icy tones to simply destroy the life of every human being on this city block. But he stayed his hand – he had a prize in sight and even he was not so impatient as to spoil a fine wine by mixing it with the dregs.
“Who would have thought that men could make buildings that reached up so high?” Sebastian said angling his neck back so he could better look at the high rise. “It’s all so different from what I remember; it’s a bit overwhelming actually.”
Darian smiled slightly as they made their way across the street back in the direction of his apartment block. In the past it had always been Darian who marveled at the world’s wonders, and somehow it just seemed humorous to him to watch Sebastian express that same amazement. “Well a lot can happen in 200 years, Seb. If you think these are high, you should see the CN tower in Toronto, you’ll really strain your neck looking for the top of that.”
“Toronto?” Seb muttered to himself, confused. Despite his best efforts, he was finding it hard absorbing all the new sights and sounds of the modern world. But the novel surroundings were not the main concern on the young man’s mind. What really worried him was the condition of his friend.
“So are you ready to tell me exactly what’s inside of you?” Sebastian said, hoping that Darian was ready to open up.
“You don’t want to know. Don’t waste your energy thinking about it, ok? Just accept that this is the way things turned out,” Darian replied coldly. He hadn’t wished to be so abrupt, but he was not comfortable with Seb knowing the darkness inside him. “It’s not a big deal though. I mean, do I seem any different to you?” he continued, consciously trying to sound in a better mood.
The two continued their trek home, the conversation slower then it was before. As they turned in the dark alley to take a short cut, they were unaware of the devil out on the hunt.
Dathan’s interest was piqued. His sharp hearing had picked up the conversation and he wondered what the boy meant by ‘what’s inside’. But his opportunity presented itself and without hesitation Dathan swept into the alley behind the pair and sped past so fast that the two young men saw nothing more than a sudden flurry of wind that picked up the rubbish in the alley in a small tornado. The Ancient vampire stopped before the two and grinned, allowing his sharp fangs to glint in the moonlight.
“A vampire,” Darian hissed as he halted dead in his tracks. Usually a lone bloodsucker wouldn’t worry the fae, but he could sense that this one was far from ordinary. A sense of pure, dark power radiated off his massive frame. *One of the Elders Tash was talking about.*
“Sebastian, run the other way, back where people are out in the open,” Darian said, never taking his eyes off the vampire.
“I’m not going anywhere,” his friend replied instantly. Even if Darian was a super powered fae, Seb would never change his over-protective manners, and Darian knew arguing would not get him anywhere.
“Get out of here now, before you end up a pile of dust,” the fae warned, his muscles clenching in anticipation of a fight.
Dathan’s grin grew broader. “That’s right, little one. You should listen to your friend.” He exerted his new-found power and sought out the blood in the body of the one called Sebastian, but was frustrated to find nothing he could call to.
“What?!” Dathan roared in fury. He’d been so pleased to learn of this new talent, and wasn’t prepared to find it thwarted. He leapt forward, grabbing Sebastian by the throat before the man could so much as blink, and sank his fangs into that luscious, sweet flesh...
Only to roar once more in anger as he spat out the foul yellow-green fluid that issued from the man’s throat. Snarling now, Dathan twisted the neck with such force that it tore from its moorings with a revolting wet sound, and hurled the head as far from him as he could, letting the body drop to the ground.
“Now,” he growled, rounding on the other one, the one he’d been following, “Now it’s your turn.”
“SEBASTIAN!!!”
It was as if the world around Darian froze. He hadn’t even had time to react to Dathan’s movements before the monster utterly destroyed Sebastian. What Darian had been striving towards for over 200 years, the vampire had taken in the matter of milliseconds. Had Darian had time to think he probably would have collapsed and wept, but instead his body filled with murderous rage.
“MONSTER!” he screamed as he leapt towards the towering behemoth.
Dathan thrust a hand out and held the man up by his throat, his feet dangling a couple of feet above the ground as his limbs flailed uselessly. The vampire chuckled, a rumbling noise deep in his throat as he said, “So some call me. Soon you will call me ‘master’. I’ve been watching you, young Darian.”
Now that he was touching the young man, Dathan could feel the pent up power within him. Darian himself possessed some abilities that would be useful to him as Dathan’s newest vampire, but there was something else…
Dathan suddenly turned the full force of his millennia-old gaze onto Darian. “Tell me, whelp. What is that inside you? I can sense its power. And yet you do not use it against me.”
Darian's eyes burned with hatred as the indigo colour shifted darker. "You killed him!" he repeated over and over deliriously, ignoring Dathan's questions. Mystical energy flowed from Darian's hands as it had done once before in G’rnatha, but this time it proved useless. The vampire was too powerful, and the magic seemed to bounce harmlessly off.
Dathan’s rumbling chuckle turned to a roar of laughter. “You think you can harm me?”
He squeezed his hand tighter, intrigued by this display of power from the trapped thing within Darian. His thoughts flitted to Krispin’s new addition to his brood – the twin persona who currently styled himself as Ripper. Why should Krispin be the one to have all the fun toys? Unsure what the creature inside Darian was capable of, Dathan thought he’d let it loose – see how it performed before turning the host body. He remembered all the spells he’d once used to bind and unbind spirits, and thought he recognised similar magic within Darian.
“Let’s see…” Dathan mused, and gazed deeply into the eyes of the man he held. Their faces were level, though Darian’s feet came only to Dathan’s knees. Dathan’s strangely luminous whitish-green eyes locked onto Darian’s darkening ones until…
“There!” Dathan cried in triumph. He set down the body he held and relaxed his grip slowly.
Darian's body seemed limp at first, but within a second sweat started to ooze from all his pores, as if something was burning him up from inside out. The fae scrambled to remove his shirt in search of a way to cool down, but even the crisp October air had no effect on the mounting heat. Finally, at the pinnacle of the inferno, a strange rune emblazed itself on his chest. The pain was unbearable and Darian could no longer hold back from screaming. Within a few seconds however, the cry of pain died down, being replaced instead with a sinister cackle.
A large smile plastered itself across Darian’s face. "A vampire... Old... Powerful," the voice now behind Darian's mouth was strange and serpentine.
“I have freed you, but I can destroy you just as easily. You will serve me.”
Evexus inspected Dathan from head to toe. Although he was powerful, Evexus knew that he would be no match for the Elder. "We thank you for freeing us vampire, and in our gratitude we will serve you for now." The creature bowed before his dark saviour. "Let us introduce ourself, we are Evexus Drett, one of nine princes of the dark fae kingdom."
“Welcome, Evexus Drett. I am Dathan, your god.” Dathan eyed his new servant up and down, pleased with what he saw. “You will make a fine addition to my household.”
He didn’t bother to mention that Evexus would be a relatively free agent for only a few days while he was assessed. Dathan fully intended to rebind the fae before turning the host body, to create a minion who he could command to be ordinary or a sorcerer at will. Assuming, of course, that Evexus proved worth the bother.
Evexus' mind raced back to the man he had seen behind Darian's eyes in the restaurant. *The Templar.* Now the dark fae’s smile became even greater. "Lord Dathan, allow us to repay you for your kindness. We will bring to you a knight, powerful and brave. He will be our gift to you, homage to your dark magnificence." The faery took a few steps back from the large vampire and looked to the sky.
“A gift,” Dathan said grinning, “I do so enjoy those.”
"We will return to you once we have our offering," Evexus said before his form began to shrink and alter. What were once Darian's arms now turned into small black wings. A second later, a large black raven swooped into the night sky.
The raven soared across the sky, the wind ruffling the feathers on its wings. Some distance behind it, flying silently, a giant bat also glided through the dusky night air, watching carefully.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Wednesday, 11th October 2006
11:37pm
Chance stepped out of the flower shop. It almost amazed him a flower shop would be open this late, but, hey, it WAS LA after all. In his left hand he clutched a bouquet of roses. Before taking another step he raised them to his nose and took a sniff. She would love them, and it might go a bit of the way in making up for his lateness coming home.
And the purple demon blood splattered all over him.
He started making his way to his bike, smiling. Suddenly, in just a bare few months, his life was so much better. The threat of the Elders seemed so distant; they hadn’t heard anything about them in a long while. The vampire population was on the downfall. It was looking increasingly likely that it was only the demons you had to watch out for. Especially when you were patrolling, as Alessa called it.
The street was empty as Chance crossed it, as were the sidewalks. Not odd, not even in a slightly more up-market area of LA than the one he had been living in when he first got here. That made him chuckle to himself. *When I first got here… man, how things have changed since then. For the better.*
Gathering the flowers in one arm, Chance began searching in his pockets for his keys. After a few moments without success he was starting to worry and cast glances around. Sure, it was upmarket. Didn’t mean the nasties didn’t come here.
After a while he sighed heavily and spun around, ready to head back to the shop. Maybe he'd left them there…
“Hello, Templar.”
Chance jumped in surprise; he had never heard the man come up behind him. At first he had know idea who this stranger was, but after a second his memory kicked in: *The man from the Laughing Dog.*
“We are dreadfully sorry if we startled you,” the man’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s just, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity of saying ‘hello’ to the brave hero who banished us from this plane centuries ago.” He took a step forward, closing in the distance between himself and Chance. "You look confused Templar, don’t recognise an old friend?"
Chance’s face was one of utter confusion. He had very rarely been so confused in his life. Maybe school maths, back when he use to go to school, came close. As did the English classes. But algebra and symbolism never really got the same blank look and fuzzy brain.
“Huh? What? Huh?” was all he managed to splutter. “You’ve completely and utterly lost me here. In fact, I doubt even Alice was this lost. I’m so lost, I’m starting to babble.” He paused. “Are you ok? I mean, have you been drinking, or something?”
Darian’s body began to shake as the spirit inside rumbled with laughter. “Silly us, how could you recognise us while we are wearing this horrible human skin?” The man twisted his head sideways as his torso began to sway back and forth, almost as if he were a snake waiting to lash out at its prey. “Now how is that you, brave knight, have survived as long as we? You are human, and not an immortal, yet here you stand before us the same as you were centuries before, unravaged by the hand of time.”
“Dude, that is some seriously strong shit you’ve been smoking. You gotta tell me who’s your dealer,” Chance said by way of answer. And yet, as he said it, something stirred up inside his head. He got a faint tingling, as if he knew this man from somewhere else. From somewhere other than the Laughing Dog. Whilst he desperately tried to search for it, he hid again behind his bravado. “And what’s with the whole second person thing anyway?”
“It does not matter to us how or why you still exist, simply that you do,” Evexus hissed, ignoring Chance’s questions. “Do you know what we have planned for you, Templar? We think we will make you watch as we rip the limbs of the woman you love. Oh yes, we saw her in restaurant from behind this body’s eyes. And then,” he continued, taking another menacing step forward, “then we think we’ll burn the skin from the young boy. Oh yes, we saw him too.”
Whether this man was a druggy, alcoholic or just plain mad didn’t bother Chance any more. He was pissed. “Look pal, I don’t know what your problem is, but you stay away from them, ” he growled, not mentioning them by name in an effort to provide some safety. “I’m warning you, try to hurt them and I’ll personally beat you to death with your own shoes." Menacingly, he began advancing too until their faces were almost touching.
Evexus continued smiling. “Why, you do care for them, don’t you? Maybe we’ll have a little fun with them first. Yes, I imagine the woman’s form could be quite… pleasing-”
Chance hit the man as hard as he could, almost before he could finish speaking. Whilst Evexus staggered back, he followed up by planting his foot in his gut. “I’m not going to wait for you to go near them, I’ll beat you to death now!” he shouted.
“That we would like to see,” came the reply as, lightning quick, he leapt up at Chance and forced him onto the ground. He cackled insanely whilst pinning him to the dirty pavement. “Well, it appears age as caught up with you, Templar, whereas we are still in peak fitness.”
Chance didn’t bother with a reply. Instead he thrust the roses into his agressor’s face and pushed him off with both hands. Rolling to his feet, he reached behind his belt and yanked out a stake.
Evexus merely laughed as he slowly stood up. He looked not in the least put out by the weapon. Instead, he waggled his fingers and spoke words of power as Chance approached, lunging with the stake. His arm bounced away at the last minute, as if it had hit an invisible wall, and with the shock he dropped Mr. Pointy. Before he could make a grab for it, Evexus hit him squarely in the nose, and kicked him lightning quick in the side of the leg.
With a gasp, Chance fell onto his knees. “There, that’s better,” the being in Darian’s body said, smiling. He placed a hand on his forehead and began chanting again.
*Magic,* Chance snarled to himself. He brought both hands up hard, battering the man’s arm away, then rolled forward and came up right in his face. After a savage knee to the groin, Chance headbutted his opponent viciously. Evexus laughed even as blood from his noise went flying. In retribution he lashed out at Chance with his fingers, jabbing him in the eyes. Chance roared, blocking out the sound of Evexus waving his glowing fingers and singing a jolly chorus.
When he opened his eyes, sore but still working fine, Chance had barely enough time to dodge a punch. After dodging several more, he managed to duck under the outstretched arm and get in a punch of his own. Once, twice, three times, four.
It was only on the sixth he realised each one had gone right through the man’s body, and he had not so much ducked under the arm as passed through it.
Then something blasted into the back of his head, and all Chance knew was darkness.
Evexus watched as the Templar sagged to the ground among the roses, the after effects of his spell still lingering in the air like the scent of lilies. He approached the unconscious man, then lifted him up with the ease a man would a child’s doll. His nose had already healed, as had the other minor damage he sustained in short skirmish, and his double image had begun to evaporate.
With his nemesis slouched over his shoulder, Evexus set off to enact his revenge. The fallen flowers crunched under his foot as he crushed them.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Legends of the Fated Templar Part 4
Captive Angel
February 12th, 1128
Somewhere beneath Vienna, Austria.
Darkness. And pain. That was all Matthew knew. He was the darkness. He was the pain. It was one with him. He could see nothing but the darkness, and knew nothing but the pain.
Matthew dwelt in such a state for what was like an eternity. Time had no meaning there. It was not part of the darkness, nor the pain, and was so discarded. There were moments when the pain subsided slightly, and he could hear faint and muffled sounds, then it returned and everything else was forgotten. He didn’t know how he got this way, for all he knew this was the way it always had been.
Then there was something else. Besides the pain, besides the darkness. It was… light. Matthew had never seen it before, and yet knew what it was. He began moving towards this phenomenon, curious as to how he knew it. The light grew brighter and brighter, and brought with it a new sensation; warmth. Again, he was surprised he knew the name of something he had never known. The closer he drew to the light, the quicker he went.
Matthew came round with a groan. His head pounded and his limbs were heavy. Groggily he opened his eyes, then shut them quickly again. It was so bright. He spent the next few minutes opening them slowly till he could adjust. Having had his eyes closed for so long, even the light of a few scattered and blazing torches was like looking into the sun.
He had a strange sensation of hanging, and looked to either side. His arms were chained to a rock face. For a moment, Matthew wondered whether he was on a cliff, but no. There was rock-faces everywhere, including above and below. Underground, then, in a cave.
Matthew looked down at himself. He was stripped to the waist, and his trousers were in tatters. His chest was a mess of cuts and bruises. He started wondering how he had got here, and why he was in such a state. Then it came back to him, the flight and the fight. The disorientation he had felt for the Lord knows who long fled instantly, and the memories returned to make his head throb a thousand times worse.
He groaned again. His mouth was dry and his stomach rumbled with hunger. The cave he was in looked to be some sort of chamber; vaguely circular with a passage leading off directly ahead of him. For the most part it was empty and bare, but here and there were scattered tables and chairs. On the table closest to him laid an array of oddly shaped blades and devices. Matthew eyed them suspiciously, in no doubt as to what their purposes were.
"Wake up, Templar.”
He did so, but with a start. *Must have fallen unconscious again…* He kept his eyes closed, not wanting to let his captor know he was awake just yet.
“Oh, you might as well open your eyes. I know you’re awake.”
Without registering it, Matthew had opened his eyes. The vampire that had the poisoned sword stood in front of him, now stripped of his armour and smiling cruelly.
“That’s better.”
There were other vampires in the cave now, and Matthew recognised some of them from the fight. “W-where am I?” he stumbled over the words.
“Oh, now that would be telling.” The vampire leaned in close, so his mouth was right in his ear. “But I’ll tell you this. You’re in a place that’s going to make you wish you died before you took my arm.” It waved its stump in emphasis on that last point as its fangs extended, then it leaned in closer. Matthew didn’t flinch. Death would be welcome. It was the only way he would see his family again.
“Now, now, Cassius. You’ll get to drink, when the time comes. But not before.”
Matthew didn’t know who the speaker was; it was out of his line of sight, but it obviously had an affect on Cassius for he withdrew, turned and knelt off to Matthew’s left. He had to admit the voice was certainly powerful and commanding. There could have been a slight accent to it, but Matthew didn’t fully trust his senses yet.
“Yes, my Lord. As you wish. I was merely taunting him,” Cassius said, head bowed and eyes cast downwards.
“That will not work.” Finally, the speaker moved into view. It was tall and male and clad in elegant, white robes. There was no hair on his head, but a crown of leaves.
“Arise, my faithful servant.” Cassius stood up, but kept his eyes averted. “He does not fear death. Death will bring him closer to his family once more.” The speaker turned now to Matthew. “Is that not true?”
In reply, he managed a groan.
The speaker smiled, then looked back at Cassius. “Leave us.”
Cassius gave a curt nod before gathering his soldiers and leaving. Taking a step closer to Matthew, the speaker said, “Do you know who I am?”
“You… are… the… Devil,” he managed.
The speaker let loose a laugh. It was long and uncontrolled, making his body shake and the sound echoed around the cave. Even more than the vampire’s laugh, it sent a shiver up Matthew’s spine. “Close, but not quite. I am surprise you do not know me. My name was once known across the world, and will be so again. In more ways than one. For now, though, you may call me Julius.”
The name meant nothing to Matthew. “Evil…”
“Evil? Evil. Evil!” Julius rolled the word in his mouth, as if trying a new dish. “Evil. Yes, I suppose that’s right. But that’s not what we’re here to talk about. You, my dear Knight, are to be my servant.”
“Never! I am the servant of the Lord God, hallowed be His name…”
“Spare me!” Julius spat. “There is only one Lord. And that is I.”
“Blasphemy!”
“Indeed. But it is the truth.”
“I will not listen to your lies. You are the Father of Lies. You seek to corrupt my soul.”
Julius smiled. “Exactly. Well, now you understand. There are two ways we can do this. The easy way-”
“Go back to Hell,” Matthew snarled.
“Why do I need to go to Hell, when I can bring Hell here? Now, as I was saying; the easy way, or the hard way…” He gestured to the instruments as he trailed off.
“I will never-“
“Follow me, yes I know. I can read your mind, you see.”
“If you can do as you say, then you’ll know I’ll never give in freely.”
“No, I suppose not. Not that it bothers me. I’m looking forward to hearing you scream.” Julius turned to look over his shoulder. “Cassius!” he called.
The vampire was already entering before Julius had finished calling his name. “Yes, my Lord?”
“Now, dear Matthew. I believe you have already met Cassius here? Or Magog, as he is calling himself these days…” The vampire looked up nastily. Matthew returned the look. “Excellent!” Julius said, clapping his hands together. “Now, Magog is rather annoyed because you took his arm. And I assure you, he is desperate to repay you. I’ll ask one more time, swear allegiance to me and-“
“Never.” It was more than a statement. Rather, it was his commitment to whatever tortures faced him or whatever fate awaited him.
Julius cocked his head. “Well, aren’t we feisty for someone who has spent the last week unconscious? Very well. Cassius, I expect you’ll please me.”
Raising himself, Cassius - or the creature Cassius had become, calling itself Magog - kept the evil smile. “As ever, my Lord.”
“Good. I’ve been waiting for this.”
The vampire reached over to the table, paused for a moment deciding what to use, then picked up an object that made Matthew’s blood cold even though he did not know exactly what it did. He did not want to find out, either. Contrary to Julius, he was not looking forward to this.
Magog smiled as he advanced…
***
11th October,
11:52 pm,
LA
He slowly came around to the sound of two people talking. Not only did he not know who they were, he did not know who he was or how he got to wherever he was. All he knew was that is was pitch black, something hurt a lot, and there was a conversation going on.
“You are pleased?” Asked the first voice, in a playful tone.
The second voice gave a booming laugh. “Oh yes, yes. Your tribute is actually something special. I have been following this curious individual for some time now. I know what he is capable of. Even if you hadn’t brought him to me, I would have undoubtedly sought him out eventually anyway.” It paused, as if in thought. “The witch is powerful and he is buried deep, deeper than you. But the spell was cast a long time ago and has weakened significantly. Besides, I’m much more powerful now.”
Now the second voice giggled. “Get your rest, Templar. You’ll need it.”
“He’s starting to come round. We’d better get ready…”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Somewhere beneath Vienna, Austria,
1128
“Why, my dear Matthew. You do impress me.”
He struggled to raise his head to face Julius, but couldn’t. His mouth was filled with blood, and his eyes threatened to roll back into his head if he tried to move them.
“Not many can go so long at the hands of Magog. I’m curious as to just how long you can go… But enough for now.”
Magog nodded and took a step back, placing a wickedly curved blade on the table. It joined the others, all of which were covered in a coat of blood. Matthew’s blood.
Stubbornly, he waited the next blade to plunge into his skin or the next hammer to pummel his ribs. Julius’ words didn’t fool him in the slightest. In the last few days more than once the vampire had said stop, only for seconds later to have more pain sliced through his body.
What happened instead he could never have guessed.
“Matthew? Matthew are you awake?” A voice called to him. Matthew struggled to remember it. He knew this voice… it was familiar to him. More so, dear to him. But who…? “Matthew, it’s me. Miriam. Oh do wake up!” Miriam… oh yes, he knew that name. Miriam was…
Miriam was his sister.
His eyes flickered open, even though he didn’t realise they were closed, and there she was standing in front of him, as real as Julius or Magog had been. “Miriam," he croaked out in a weak voice.
“Shhhh!” she cooed at him, showing concern and happiness at the same time. And, despite the pain, he smiled too. And yet a voice whispered in the back of his mind that something was wrong. “Shh…you’re hurt.”
“Miriam, what-?" He coughed up blood. “What are you doing here? We have to get out! They’ll be back!”
“Shhhhh… it’s all right, it’s all right my brother.” She showed no sign of making to leave.
Then, as Matthew looked at her friendly face filled with love and concern, he realised what was wrong. His eyes widened. He almost didn’t want to say the words, for fear they would reverse whatever miracle had happened, but he had to say them. “You… you’re dead.”
“And it’s your fault,” she whispered. “Why did you have to make me remember?” His heart fractured and tore asunder as he saw the pain on Miriam’s face. He wept, for now his fears were confirmed. The Lord had sent him a gift in a time of crises, and he had spurned it. Her hair became matted with sweat and blood began pouring from her pores.
But then his sister’s features turned into a grin, then a smile, a cruel one, that eventually culminated in a vicious, bloodthirsty cackle. Her whole body racked with the laughter that showed no signs of ending. Matthew reconsidered everything. Maybe he was in a dream, or having a vision, maybe…
Then, abruptly, she stopped. And before his eyes she moulded into something else. Her long, straight, brown hair receded. Her face reshaped itself as she grew taller and put on more weight. Her clothes, a simple dress she had worn the last time he had seen her, flowed into long, white robes.
Before Matthew knew what was going on, Julius was standing before him where moments ago had been his sister. The being, creature, Matthew wasn’t sure of a term for him, smiled at his confusion.
Julius leaned forward. “My dear Matthew. We are going to have such an interesting time. Why, I do wonder how your lovely mother would think of you in such a state…”
In the same fashion as Miriam became Julius, he now became Matthew’s mother. Matthew, still more confused than he had ever been in his entire life, could do nothing but stare. She looked terrible, like she had been when the vampires had dragged her out of their home.
“Oh, my boy, look at what you did to me. You left me to die, oh how could you?”
***
Thursday, 12th October,
12:15am
LA
Chance was hanging in the centre of a bare room. His arms had been chained to the ceiling and his legs sagged limply beneath him. Bare-chested, he was instead covered by a series of cuts and blood, his own, in a series of arcane runes.
Dathan stood before him, gripping a wickedly bladed knife. “It is good you fought him before you brought me to him,” the vampire said as he carved a pentagram into Chance’s chest. Thick, red blood swelled up, then began running freely. Some trickled down to his waist, where it dripped into a silver chalice. “His physical strength must be worn down before this can truly work. But still,” he paused and turned to the room’s other occupant, “you couldn’t have beaten him up a little more?”
Evexus smiled. “We did not want to damage him too much. We did not know what you would need to do for our revenge.”
“It matters not,” Dathan replied, shrugging and turning back to his gruesome work. “The inscribing will surely do that anyway.”
“Everything is going well, yes?” the dark fae asked, leaning forward eagerly.
“Yes, yes. I have nearly finished here. Once we have finished with the physical it will be on to the mental before finally the magical…”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday 12th October,
12:43am
Still strung up, the blood now dry and the wounds beginning to heal over, Chance remained unconscious with eyes rolled back into his head. His hair was damp with sweat and blood.
Evexus stood before him, arm outstretched and the palm of his hand on Chance’s forehead. Smiling, he began to chant. Then he closed his eyes and opened his mouth. A dark violet mist flowed out and began to gather over his own forehead. Images could be glimpsed in its murky depths; images of countless years of death and slaughter.
The mist reached out to touch Evexus’ hand, still on Chance’s head.
The Dark Fae moaned in delight as Chance began to scream.
*****
Vienna, Germany
June 1st 1128 CE
Matthew had been dragged out of the cave. He was in a church, or at least what looked like a church. But there were subtle differences. The window paintings were of demons slaughtering children, of rivers of blood and skies of fire, of men and women embracing all manner of creatures from hell. Before the altar a pentagram was painted on the floor in fresh blood. Flickering candles cast shadows across the horrific. Runes were carved into the walls and alter that, should you try to read them, made your eyes hurt and head ache.
Vampires, dressed up in armour with fangs out, filled half the benches. The rest were taken up by demons. Around the room men in black cloaks with their heads bowed sang blasphemous songs that made Matthew’s ears bleed. He could not see their faces, but he knew that if they looked up he would see that they had been blinded, and yet could find their way around perfectly. Even fight well.
He was lying now in the middle of the pentagram. Two of the cloaked men had hauled him up the aisle and dumped him there before chaining him to the altar. Upon which, as he came in, his sister sat swinging her legs back and forth like a child.
Over the past few months Matthew had seen her, his mother and father and many others from the village. Each one had blamed him for their deaths, because he had run and not fought like any man should. They ignored his excuses and pleas for forgiveness.
Now Matthew too blamed himself for it. It was his fault, all his fault. If he hadn’t left the village in the first place, if he hadn’t run away they would still be alive. He knew this, he accepted it. It was his fault…
It was too late for that now. But, there was redemption. Miriam had told him, and he trusted her with all his heart. If she said it would work, it would work. All he had to do was go through this ritual for Julius and Magog, just do that and then they would forgive him and everything would be all right again.
Julius was now standing in the pulpit, watching with a smile. Miriam was gone. Before Matthew a man stood with long, brown robes and a heavy tome in his hand. His hood covered his face, so that only darkness could be seen in it. Darkness, and two faint glowing red eyes. Two of the cloaked men came forward with sinister, curved blades. They cut deep into his flesh, gouging arcane symbols. His blood began running down his body.
The sorcerer read from the book, his voice rising as he went on and his eyes glowing more and more brightly. Matthew would not have been able to understand the words even if he tried; it was a long dead language.
As the speaker went on, the vampires and demons began chanting too. The pentagram began to glow with power as the droplets of blood hit it.
Suddenly, pain flared through Matthew’s body. He screamed and his body arched. With the pain came energy too, running through his limbs. It was a burst of strength he had not felt in months. He leapt up, still crying out, pulling at the chains. The man continued the spell he was performing, the crowd continued chanting.
The pain increased as did the volume of the chanting and Matthew’s screaming. All three rose and rose to a peak. He pulled at his chains, ignorant of the damage he was doing to his arms. Around him the floor began to burn as the pentagram cast up red light around him and the blood bubbled and ran.
Then it all stopped. All the candles in the building flickered and went out, plunging everything into shadow. The figure in the robes slammed the book shut and slumped to the floor. Men in black cloaks rushed and carried him off. Similarly, Matthew collapsed exhausted. Two more ran towards him.
Julius was leaning over his pulpit now, eyes wide and smiling, waiting for something.
Nobody else dared move. Once the caster had been dragged out, everything was still. The air was thick with tension and anticipation.
Then Matthew stirred. He stood; eyes closed, and with one motion yanked both chains out of the stone altar. They whipped around him and collided with the two black-cloaked men. One smacked into one’s face and sent him straight to the floor; the other wrapped itself around the other’s neck. A hard, sharp tug on the chain and the head came off, falling to the floor with a wet flop. Blood spurted everywhere, soaking Matthew, and the body soon followed suit.
Now he opened his eyes. They blazed sickly green. Matthew breathed deeply and looked round the building, licking the blood that had fallen on his face. Raising one hand up, he licked the blood off that too as he continued taking everything in, despite the darkness. Then his vision fell on Julius.
Matthew fell to his knees and bowed his head. “My Lord,” he said.
“Arise, my servant, and welcome back to the mortal plane,” Julius said, smiling widely. “Arise, for I wish to watch your chaos and destruction run rife again. Arise and please me, Dray’chen.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
12th October,
1:18am,
LA
Around the bare room candles flickered, casting long, threatening shadows up the walls. On the ceiling it looked as if dark spirits were waving from side to side in a breeze.
Dathan stood before Chance, who held up by one of his underlings in the centre of a pentagram. With the increased power, the vampire was able to keep the dazed man upright with barely any effort at all. Two more vampires, disciples of his, stood to one side. One held the chalice, another a candle.
In one hand, the Elder held a stone. He held it to his lips and began chanting. Not even Evexus could understand the words.
After a short time, Dathan beckoned for the chalice and the candle. He lighted the blood with the flame and a word of power and dipped the stone into it until it was fully submerged, then withdrew it and tossed the burning liquid over Chance. The man gave no reaction at all, though the vampire behind him shifted uncomfortably.
Dathan spoke one word, then crushed the stone in his hand.
Chance gasped. He felt as if he had just been hit in the gut with a sledgehammer. All the breath fled him. But that wasn’t the worst of it. His body was wracked with convulsions as something from inside him tried to tear its way free. He felt unclean somehow, and his skin crawled with disgust. With a scream and a sudden burst of strength, he sent the vampire behind him flying.
The two others made to move, but the Elder halted them with an upturned palm.
Chance’s legs buckled and he fell to his knees, then down on his arms retching. For a while nothing came up, then he began to cough blood on the floor. He tried to fight it down but couldn’t, it was rising like a tide from deep below; heralding the rebirth of something terrible. His back arched with pain that ran up and down his body as even more blood forced its way up. He was far too terrified to dwell on what was happening to him to even begin to worry about how much blood he was losing.
Still the whatever it was inside fought to get free, and Chance believed his entire body would crack apart like an egg.
Then his head arched back. Spasms ran up and down his back. His mouth and eyes were filled with a sickly green fire that blazed forth and he screamed, screamed like he never thought possible. Mixed in with the cry of pain and terror was one of joy and triumph.
The green fire ceased suddenly and Chance hit the floor, unconscious.
As he lay there, all the injuries he had just sustained began to miraculously heal. When it was done, his eyes snapped open and flashed green for a moment. Calmly he rolled onto his back and sat up. His head travelled from left to right slowly, seeing everything, missing nothing. Then he smiled, but it was more of a sneer; the top lip curled up on the left. He stood up, flowing easily to a standing position and looked down at himself.
“This is going to be interesting,” Chance said. He looked round at the waiting Dathan and Evexus and approached the two. Three feet away he paused and smiled again, one head cocked to the side. Dathan smiled back, then pulled a struggling girl out the shadows. Bound at the wrists and gagged, her blue eyes were wide and tearful. Her brown hair was a mess.
Chance reached out and caressed her cheek, brushing aside a lock of stray hair. Staring back with petrified eyes, the girl was paralysed by his stare. She stood motionless, even stopping in her whimpering. Still smiling, Chance’s hand moved down until it was over her throat. With a casual motion, he wrenched her neck so hard the head came off. The corpse fell to the floor and he looked at the head in his hand. “Very interesting.”
Dathan, still smiling, reached out and placed his own hand on Chance’s shoulder. “Welcome back, Dray’chen.”
*****
Legends of the Fated Templar, Part 5
Mark of the Beast
Southern Italy,
October 6th, 1202 CE
Dray’chen watched and laughed as the vampires died. They fought with a savagery that befitted their kind, but even with the numbers so in their favour, they were outmatched. Their opponent was faster, stronger, tougher, better trained.
Not that the demon cared how many vampires died. They were replaceable and their deaths were fulfilling a vital role: weakening the warrior and wearing her down.
That warrior being the Slayer, of course.
She cut through the attacking horde with deceptive ease, sword flickering from side to side in her right hand; parrying and decapitating and severing, stake in the left. What attacks the armoured vampires managed to get through were mostly blocked by her armour, but some had scored cuts on her forehead. The Slayer was bleeding in a number of places, and her hair was mattered with sweat, swinging backwards and forth around her head.
From the memories of his host body, Dray’chen was reminded of the time when the host was captured by Magog and his minions. Yes, he imagined the link was fitting.
The demon watched the carnage unfold from several metres away, standing by the church doors. Inside lay the remains of almost two dozen people; the oldest 43, the youngest a mere babe-in-arms. Dray’chen had slaughtered them all personally, with his own bare hands. His ears still echoed with the sounds of their cries and screams and shouts of anger. Dried blood stained his clothes and covered his face, as it did nearly the entire interior and run freely across the floor. He had saved a young boy till last, revelling in his fear. Then he had taken his head in his hands and snapped his neck. The carnage in the church had brought up another memory, when his host had tracked a Dark Fae and bound it in a similar building.
It had been simple enough to lure the Slayer away from her village with the vampires at his disposal. But she had realised her mistake quicker than Dray’chen had expected, and returned before he had a chance to get properly ready. No worry. She had seen enough to know everybody she had ever known and loved was dead.
The last vampire fell to her sword, blowing away in a cloud of dust that joined the rest covering the cobbles of the village square. The Slayer turned to Dray’chen, fixing him with an icy glare. She began to approach, picking her way carefully with a slight limp in the left leg. *Ah, so they did manage to do some good after all. Pity they couldn’t kill her.* No, he didn’t mean that. He wanted to kill her himself.
Smiling, Dray’chen walked over to meet her. He was unarmoured, but his own sword hung from a sheath at his side. It was a demonic weapon, possessed by a minor creature and it had served him well. He could feel it screaming out for the blood of a Slayer, and the demon had no reason to deny it any longer. It liked that more than anything. Fiercely, he drew the weapon. It was tinged green, and had an exquisite handle that could not have been carved by any sane man.
The two faced each other off, neither talking. Dray’chen certainly didn’t have anything to say to her, banter and taunting inevitably led to mistakes and carelessness and failure in situations like these. There was a time for mind-games, and a time not for mind-games. This was the definately second option. Likewise she was in no mood for conversation.
They leapt at each other simultaneously, as if some secret signal had been given. With a wide swing Dray’chen swept his blade forth with a snarl. It sliced through the air with a faint keening that was the demon inside letting out its own warcry. The Slayer brought up her own weapon, and the two clattered against each other with sparks flying. Both combatants took a step backwards and disengaged.
*So,* he thought, *Her blade is enchanted. Or blessed, possibly.* Interesting. Normally his sword with had cut through a lesser weapon. Only a blessed or enchanted one could stand up to it.
Now it was the Slayer’s turn to test the waters. She launched her attack, which Dray’chen easily side-stepped, then sought to hit him in the return strike. The demon blocked this, blocked the next, then went suddenly on the offensive. It caught her off guard and slipped through her defences; slicing her cheek. Blood began running.
Again they withdrew. Now Dray’chen smiled. He knew he would win this. Despite her weapon the Slayer was wounded, tired, and emotionally drained. Even in her top form he knew he was faster, stronger and tougher.
When they next fought it was for real. No quarter was given and none was shown. With a fury that showed up even that of the vampires earlier, their blades collided again and again. Sparks flew as sword met sword or armour. Dray’chen scored another dozen minor wounds on the Slayer. Each time the demon in his weapon let out a shiver of ecstasy at the taste. In return she managed to press her attack hard enough that once or twice she scored cuts on him. Once on his side, another on the upper arm. A sickly green fluid came out, matching in colour his blazing eyes. But, unlike her, his wounds quickly sealed. Hers didn’t, and hers hurt more.
Dray’chen smashed his fist into her cheekbone, bringing up an ugly bruise that to him was a thing of beauty. Another punch cracked her nose. Completely eschewing her own defence she went for a desperate offensive. It did her more harm than good, as the demon was easily able to strike her again and again, battering her down.
The Slayer twirled and swept her sword round. The demon caught it on his own and twirled it round. In a flash he had disarmed her, and it left her stunned. Her sword clattered to the floor and with a swipe of his arm Dray’chen used magic to send it spinning away, far out of reach. In desperation she raised her stake, but he simply grabbed the arm in his spare hand and snapped it. Crying out in pain, she dropped the weapon and clutched the arm, backing slowly away.
Advancing menacingly, Dray’chen raised the demonic sword. He felt it throbbing at what must surely come, and this reflected the expression on the Slayer's face. She fell to her knees as he drew ever nearer. When he was but a foot or two away, he could her hear her whispering, whispering her last goodbyes and prayers. Smiling broadly at the sight of this noble warrior crying on her knees, the demon revelled one more time in her tears and running blood.
Then Dray’chen brought the sword down.
The Slayer’s head toppled from her body and rolled away. His sword shrieked louder than ever as her lifeless body toppled to the floor. Reaching down, Dray’chen picked the head up by the hair. He held it above his head and opened his mouth. Her still warm blood flew freely out of her neck and onto his tongue and down his throat. It was a rush that he never grew tired of. The sheer power of it… the energy…
Once again, Dray’chen saw why his sword liked the taste so much.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday, 5 October 2006
Early morning
He was home.
Nikolai still had a hard time believing it, in a way. After everything that happened, he was back, and after a week on the alien world. Zoë must be worried. He hoped that she had taken care of Tolstoy for him while he was gone. Walking up the stairs to his apartment, he hoped that nobody saw him.
He looked like he’d been through hell, clothes ripped and dirty. Then there were the physical changes which he wished would just go away. Six three-inch spikes were coming out of his back, curved with points upward. Another spike came from each elbow, and the glowing blue eyes gave him the impression of being a demon.
The first two floors went without anyone seeing him. To say that he was tired was an understatement. Keys slipped out of his pocket as he mechanically moved to a door he thought that he would never see again. Standing there for a moment, he slowly walked down the hallway to his door.
As he put the key in the lock and turned it, he heard the door shut down the hall. Nikolai froze in place, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t notice him and would just go on. Only he was not to have quite so much luck.
“Excuse me, what are you-?” a familiar voice began before cutting off. “Kolya?” Zoë asked questioningly.
Nikolai turned, keeping his head down, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the spikes. Or the eyes. Especially the eyes. He was torn at hearing her voice, partly wanting to run, partly wanting to stay. “Da,” was all he could find to say.
For a long moment Zoë said nothing, as though going through the whole range of emotions. Then suddenly she was upon him, throwing her arms around him, pulling him close to her. “Oh god Kolya, I thought I lost you,” she said hurriedly. Instinctively his arms went around her, trying to reassure her that he really was there.
“It’s only been a week,” he said quietly, still glad to have her back. He’d never realised just how much he missed her until seeing her again, knowing that she was there.
Zoë pulled away in confusion for a minute. “Week? What are you talking about? Kolya, it’s been more than two months!”
He looked up in surprise. What? Had time somehow managed to move slower on the alien world? What if they had been forced to hike it across the world by foot?
Zoë gasped and held her hand to her mouth. “My god… your eyes… your elbow… what happened to you?” He could see the fear and lack of understanding on her face, and sympathised with it a great deal.
“I don’t know,” he said, sighing heavily. Nikolai looked to his apartment, finishing unlocking it. “We should probably talk inside.”
She nodded somberly, hesitating slightly when the pair entered his apartment. “Tolstoy… he’s back at my place,” she said on the way in. Nikolai paused in thought before nodding.
“Thank you,” he said. “That was nice of you.”
The pair silently walked into the living room, not much out of place from the last time he’d seen it. Except that it was cleaned – Zoë, he wondered? She hadn’t stopped him, so it was unlikely that his apartment had been rented to someone else during the interim.
When they got inside he had to stop and just look around for a few minutes, taking in all of the sights. Not much had moved; only the telltale signs of cat and a person keeping the place up were visible. Nobody who saw the apartment would figure that a human spent much, if any, time there and probably only used it as a place to sleep. If that.
“Kolya…” Zoë started again, swallowing hard. She must have noticed those spikes on his back now, he thought. “What happened to you?” Again she asked the same question, though she almost sounded afraid that he would answer.
“I really don’t know, and what I do know, I don’t think you would believe,” Nikolai replied, lost in thought. It was something that he had considered but now that the moment was upon him… how? How was he supposed to do it? “I… you remember those reports, of the strange unmovable circle of stones?”
Zoë looked up at him with a confused expression. Why would he be talking about that of all things? Then she nodded once, before letting him continue. “I was there,” he said simply. “When it began… you won’t believe it, but I found myself on an alien world. A dimensional portal.”
Zoë laughed. “Kolya, please,” she said. “It’d be more believable that you were on a two month bender!”
Nikolai brought one of his arms up, pointing the spike out to the side. “You don’t believe your own eyes?”
She stood up again, a bit of fear. He was serious, he was being serious. “Kolya, you’re scaring me,” she said. “People don’t, they don’t just grow spikes for god’s sake! Or shift dimensions.”
Nikolai began to move forward, to try to comfort her when she stopped him. “No, don’t,” she said. “Please. I… I need time, Kolya.”
“Zoë, please,” he said. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“No?” she asked firmly, raising an eyebrow. “Why would someone want to kill you, then?”
Nikolai blinked in confusion. A good half dozen people and some associated situations came to mind. Though he had not been completely honest with Zoë about his past, she knew enough to know that she didn’t really want the details. Or so he thought. As it was, he would need to know more. “What are you talking about?”
“What I’m talking about is that someone came by here looking for you, Kolya,” she said. “He… he knew you. Said that I, that we should get out of town. Because someone was after you.”
His legs feeling heavy, Nikolai stumbled over towards the chair before finally collapsing back down into it. Trigger must have tracked him down; only two or three people total could find him from his old life right away. Even then, they would not do so without good reason. “Did he say who?” Nikolai asked.
Zoë nodded her head no, but approached some again. She was confused. First he came back looking like, well like a demon, and now… now he seemed to know the man, Trigger. “Who is Trigger?” she asked simply. “Kolya, tell me, please. Who is Trigger?”
He folded his hands together, looking down at them. He really didn’t want to have this conversation but couldn’t avoid it. “A hitman.”
“A HITMAN?” she hissed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “You said… you said you worked in the First Chief Directorate, that was responsible for intelligence.”
“The First Chief Directorate ran foreign operations,” he pointed out gently, agreeing with her. “I met him in Sicily, it was an assassination.”
Zoë stopped cold, her mouth forming small Os in shock. He told stories of the way politics worked in the Communist Party and the KGB, but she had never dreamed that Nikolai could have been responsible for ordering, planning, or carrying out a death. The Russian had always seemed too nice to her, a man incapable of such things.
“Oh my god,” she said, taking a step back. “You’re serious… about everything. The KGB, this dimensional crap, everything.”
Nikolai nodded. “I know it’s a lot to take in,” he said. “But I certainly was being serious. I don’t know if vampires and the like are real like some people claim, in fact I hope to hell that was just a complex practical joke, but… well, the world is a very strange place and I can’t help it.”
“I think I was happier not knowing,” Zoë said, referring at the same time to the thought that the supernatural was real and to the idea that Nikolai had been a killer of some sort. And at once, a decision was made. “Kolya, I’m sorry but… I don’t think I can see you any more, not in that way…”
Nikolai looked up in surprise, his glowing eyes looking as caring and confused as glowing eyes could. “What?”
“It’s just,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, but when I think of a ‘normal life’ I don’t think of my lover going off for months through portals of stones, or getting visits from a hitman he knows.”
“You’re breaking up with me,” he said simply, having been afraid – almost expecting this would happen.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, moving towards the apartment door before disappearing, leaving the former assassin alone. Alone to wonder what his old friend was doing looking for him.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
The Longwood Residence
October 12th,
3:53am
The servant rushed to answer the door amidst the banging and ringing. He was slightly confused as to why somebody would be calling the Longwood household such a late hour, and in that manner rather annoyed too. He had been rudely awakened, and if the noise went on any longer the same would happen to the other occupants of the house. The master was in his study and would not want to be disturbed, and the lady was sleeping. He would tell whoever it was to come back later in the morning.
Entering the main hall, he shouted that he was coming but to no avail; the banging continued. Muttering curses under his breath the servant finally got to the large doors and placed his hand on the knob.
A hand punched through the wood as large splinters blew out like shrapnel. Several hit the servant and cut into his skin, one even landing in his eye. But he didn’t have time to scream or worry about it. The hand gripped his throat so hard it knocked his head back and raised him a foot off the floor. With a sickening snap it broke his neck. The servant’s lifeless body fell to the floor amongst the debris and the hand withdrew back through the hole it had made.
Then the door was blown off its hinges. The frame was shattered and it flipped over, crashing to the ground next to the body.
Dray’chen walked calmly into the house, picking his way carefully around the debris. “Knock, knock,” he said with a snide grin.
Ernie was in his study when he heard the commotion. He had been in the midst of late night researching, piles of books opened and closed were scattered around him. *Very late night,* he thought, glancing at his watch. Looking up from his reading, he dropped the book that had been open in front of him. When he heard the second bang he reached into his top draw and, with shaking hands, removed a stake, crucifix and a revolver.
Making sure the gun was loaded, Ernie flicked off the safety and headed for the main hall stuffing the other two into his trousers.
The demon was waiting for them when he arrived. His arms were behind his back and he stood framed against the night sky through the ruined doorway.
“How rude,” Dray’chen accused as Ernie stepped out of a side-door, “to leave a guest waiting with the… remains of the servant.” He motioned to the body at his feet.
“Malcolm,” Andrea breathed, stepping lightly down the stairs and white as a sheet. Dray’chen merely smiled sinisterly.
“Nobody who kills our servant and friend is a guest here, close friend of Alessa’s or not,” Ernie warned, raising his gun. This looked like the man Alessandra had brought to their home, and yet something about him was different. Evil. He had no idea how it happened.
Dray’chen’s face lit up with delight and his eyes sparkled. “Oh! That would be a gun… To think, they didn’t even have those the last time I was killing. I bet they can be very amusing,” he said, cocking his head.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re not really Chance at all,” Ernie said, taking a step so he was in front of his wife at the base of the staircase, shielding her with his own body.
“Correct,” Dray’chen answered, remaining where he stood. “Chance has… well, let’s say he’s taken a holiday. Permanently. I’m running the show now. You may address me as Dray’chen.”
Ernie paused in thought for a moment. That explained things then. Poor Chance, to be chosen as a host for this monster. Poor Alessa, too. “I’ve heard of you. A demon-"
“A strong one,” his wife cut in, voice shaky.
“Yes. Very powerful. But nobody has heard of you in almost a thousand years.”
“Has it been that long? My, I have work to do it seems. And you might as well stop trying to present yourself as a target over your wife.” The demon smiled. “I’m going to kill both of you anyway. It doesn’t matter which one goes first.” He began advancing on them, menacingly.
Ernie pushed his wife back, moved back a step himself, then aimed and fired. The gunshot was like a roar of thunder in the room, forcing his wife to cover her ears with her hands and the Watcher’s arm was thrown up with the force of the blast.
But his aim had been true and Dray’chen fell to the floor.
After checking on his wife, Ernie walked over to the demon, keeping his gun pointed at him. He got within a foot’s distance before Dray’chen kicked out with one of his legs. Ernie’s arm snapped under the assault and his gun fell to the floor. Andrea screamed, although she couldn’t bring herself to run out and help him, instead staying near the stairs. Crying out in pain, Ernie clutched the arm and scrambled for the weapon. However, Dray’chen grabbed it before he could and was up on his feet in a flash. With the gun in hand, he backhanded the Watcher and sent him tumbling to the ground.
“Ernie, Ernie, Ernie,” the demon repeated, standing over him with the gun pointed at his head. “Don’t look so shocked, of course I know your name. You are supposed to be a Watcher, are you not?”
Ernie was in too much pain to answer.
“How can you be so stupid to think I can be stopped by a mere bullet? Evidently the Council’s standards have slackened recently.”
“What do you want?” Ernie gasped around the pain.
“That’s so considerate of you to ask, Ernie,” Dray’chen said, squatting next to him. “And I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m going to kill both of you, and then I’m going to kill Alessa.”
“I’ll never let you-" the Watcher began.
“Oh, what you’ll let or not let me do doesn’t matter,” Dray’chen cut him off, rising. “You’ll be dead.”
The demon pointed the gun again and cocked it.
“Ernie!” Andrea shrieked.
Without hesitation Dray’chen spun, re-aimed, and fired. With a bull's-eye shot right between the eyes, Andrea’s brains exploded out the back of her head and she slumped to the floor against the stairs. Blood quickly began running out her wound, seeping down between her glazed expression that held both shock and horror.
“Andrea!” Ernie cried, tears streaking down his cheeks.
“Well, that was impressive,” Dray’chen said, holding the weapon up to his face. “I can see now why you humans love your guns.” He looked down at Ernie’s cowering form. “Come now, be a man. You’re a Watcher. Stiff upper lip and all. Stand up.”
Without waiting for him to move, the demon bent down and yanked Ernie into a standing position with one hand. “There, that’s better. Now, I have a message for Alessa. Listen very carefully, okay? I want you to tell her it when you see her-”
“Kill me you bastard,” Ernie muttered.
Dray’chen broke his nose with one punch that also threatened to knock him unconscious. “That wasn’t very polite, was it? Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking. Now, tell Alessa that she’s next, you got that? Answer me, or I’ll be forced to hurt you again.”
The Watcher nodded his head.
“Good.” Hefting Ernie in one hand above his head, Dray’chen threw him across the hall. He landed at the top of the stairs with such force the floorboard broke and sent him tumbling down them. Eventually he came to a stop in a crumpled heap next to the body of his wife, face down in her blood, unmoving.
“Thanks for the gun, Ernie!” Dray’chen called to no one who could hear. He turned and strode over to the servant’s corpse. “No, don’t get up, I’ll let myself out.”
His insane laughter followed him out into the still-dark early morning.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Some LA Nightclub
Tuesday the 10th October, 2006
22:33
Nikolai still could not believe he agreed to do this.
He still wanted to tell himself that the trip to the alien world was all but a horrible, horrible dream. Alas, the glowing eyes and spikes did not make this an option. They were part of the reason he wasn’t sure he should be there.
It took a quite baggy trench-coat and shades to hide both features successfully. But it would be better if the place wasn’t so… crowded.
A sea of people pressed up against each other, couples and others grinding against each other. Loud metal made it almost impossible to think. It was a group that it would be very, very easy to get lost in even if you knew where you were going - which was probably why he’d been told to go to one of the booths on the wall, which would (hopefully) allow them to find each other.
Which was the other reason for his nerves: he was meeting Reah. She had surprised him when, several days after their return, she had suddenly called him up and invited him out. At first he thought it was a ‘business’ proposition until she mentioned the cave. His jaw ached in remembering the solid punch she’d given him after Tash walked in.
And now she said she needed to talk to him about it, wanted to make it up, how they’d both been not thinking properly. A rather mild way to put it, considering they’d almost had sex on an alien world in the middle of combat.
“Hey, Nik!” he thought he heard someone who sounded like Reah calling. It was difficult to hear over the sheer volume of people and music. He spent several minutes wandering around, trying to find the source of the voice.
“There you are! What kept you?” she said as he finally found her.
“The crowd. You could lose an elephant in here,” he shot back, drawing a smile from her. She offered him a drink which looked rather strong. “I think I’m going to go deaf now! How have you been since we got back?”
Best to start with some relatively non-controversial greetings, he decided.
Reah shrugged, "Well, you know... Readjusting mainly, but it's not too bad. At least it's easier than the last time."
"Last time?"
"Never mind," Reah wavered him off, then continued, "How about you?"
Nikolai glanced around, unsure of exactly how to answer that. “Still adjusting - I look like a freak. Zoë… she can’t even look at me any more without being worried.” He threw caution to the wind and took a long gulp of the drink, which immediately hit him. “Fuck! What is this, pure alcohol only slightly watered down?”
*Slightly watered down,* Reah mused, wickedly. If it wasn’t for her act she’d have had a devious, cunning grin splitting her face in two, rather than a compassionate, warming one.
“I can understand how you must feel. Being an outcast of society myself,” she sighed, lowering her gaze to the floor, reflecting on her past, “It’s no easy task. Especially when you’re on your own.”
She watched Nikolai carefully; his eyes, his body language. Both tasks considerably difficult when he was swathed in a trench coat and sunglasses. *Thank you thermo and low-light vision!* Smiling softly, Reah offered him another drink as, mentally, she praised future technology.
Nikolai’s head was swimming a touch from what he assumed was the throng of people. The throbbing was just the loud music echoing off the inside of his skull, as they tried to find somewhere to sit. “Yeah. The worst part is when you realize that you just might never return to anything approaching normal.”
Alcohol coursed through his system. “But enough about that, and don’t bring up caves! They’re all too depressing.”
Reah couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow quizzically at that, *Depressing, huh? Nice. He sure does know how to make a girl feel good about herself.* She suddenly felt the weight of her task lighten at the remark.
Placing a light, supportive hand on his back, she rubbed gently in an attempt to calm the tension he’d built up, “Don’t worry, mate. I’m here for you.”
Nikolai tensed a bit at the touch, remembering the fact that his spine still had several three inch spikes growing out of it - they had stopped growing, but not started to recede any that he had noticed. He turned and took hold of her hand, staring at the palm. “Remember what happened last time?”
He shook his head, in a daze of memory. “Reah… what happened between us… I mean, you’re a great person and all, but I don’t usually try to sleep with a woman right after meeting her….” *It’s fast approaching time for another drink,* he thought.
*Ok… he is making this all too easy for me,* Reah thought, her remaining eyebrow joining its partner, *Which means, I could actually end up enjoying this!*
She smiled genuinely again, sharing the glance at her now mended glove that concealed six deep gashes. “I remember,” she said. *Even though I’m apparently daft enough to forget such a thing. Bloody men.*
She sniffed, “How could I forget?” *Oh look at me! I’m a stupid blonde damsel who was in stupid blonde distress! Lucky I have this man to look out for me.*
“I need a drink,” she announced, and led Nikolai towards the bar.
Nikolai decided that was a very good idea. Someone bumped into him along the way and gave him an odd look, probably having brushed up against an elbow spike. Something seemed a little off with everything that was going on with him.
A good part of him wanted to apologize and call the whole thing off.
They reached the bar after several minutes of fighting through the large crowd of people and Nikolai got one of the stronger drinks on the menu. Probably much stronger than the first one he had, from Reah’s chuckle.
“I have to ask. What made you pick this place?” *Please don’t’ say the music, I might have to kill you.*
Reah sighed and ordered two more rounds before they moved off to weave through the crushing crowd again, “Because I used to come here a lot before, well… you know what happened.” She passed one of the two drinks in her hand to Nikolai as she continued, “I am still human. When I locked the world out of my own, the desire to be around others just intensified. It was unbearable. Coming here was the perfect solution for me! Like you said earlier: you could hide an elephant in here."
“We share something similar, you and I: we’re different! But look around,” Reah grinned satisfactorily as she gazed about the crowded club, “Do you think anyone here notices, let alone cares? We can still enjoy ourselves in public, without worry of being singled out.” She nodded to a punk in the corner, and trailing a finger over one of Nikolai’s concealed elbow spikes, chiming, “Chances are you could take off your coat and glasses, and people would just accept it as something you chose to wear.”
Suddenly, Reah pulled away chuckling, and smirked playfully, “Not to mention the fact that we both share backgrounds of heavy drinkers.”
Nikolai felt at ease around the young… red haired woman? He finally consciously registered the wig that she was wearing. Confusion aside, he was glad to have someone who could sympathize with what happened, could know the truth without thinking he’s some kind of monster.
“We can drink the Irish under the table.”
“That sounds like a bloody challenge!” said Reah with a wink.
Some time later, both downed a Vodka shooter. Nikolai completely lost track of time as they became slowly more inebriated, trying to prove to one another who had the greatest tolerance for alcohol.
Something which soon resulted in a mishmash of what little Russian Reah had mixing with Nikolai’s Russian, and the swapping of drinking songs.
“I have to thank you, Reah,” Nikolai said sincerely, the accent showing up. “You are vun of the best friends I could haf hoped for. Spaseba.”
Reah’s grin was incorrigible. Slumping herself over the table they’d found, she watched Nikolai’s genuinely intoxicated state in congratulations of herself, *All too easy… Why do all guys go all babyish when they’re pissed?* She shook her head inwardly, *Well, at least he isn’t doing that stupid pouty face. I hate that face!*
Rocking her head gently to the side she reached out with her hand, clasping it over Nikolai’s. “Like I said, Nik: I’m here for you,” she cooed with a soft smile, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb supportively.
Nikolai nodded and rubbed his eyes, taking one final shot of the Vodka. “Thank you again,” he said, stopping to think for a minute. “I think I should probably get going.”
Reah nodded in agreement and slid out of the booth, still keeping a gentle hold of Nikolai’s hand, “You are looking a little sloshed there, hun.” *Man… I have been spending way too much time around Buns!* she thought, shaking her head, *But now to put the final icing on the cake…*
Chuckling lightly, she smoothly pulling Nikolai to his feet and purposely overbalanced him in the process. When he stumbled directly into her, Reah jumped, surprised as he suddenly landed uncouthly into her arms, causing her to break out in chuckles again, “Whoa! hey…” the heavy music that belted at the walls suddenly dulled to a mere hum as Reah’s breath caught and she found herself gazing dazedly into Nikolai’s masked eyes. A wisp of breath finally escaped through slightly parted lips, her mouth twitching in a crook smile, “…easy there, mister.”
"That was definitely strong stuff, usually not that bad," he said in his defence, looking down into Reah's eyes. The cave replayed before his mind, though he didn't care to think on that too heavily at the moment. Or think on anything too heavily, as the pair began to make their way towards the door.
It wasn't long before Reah had managed to hail a cab for the two of them. Supporting Nikolai as they slipped into the rear passenger seats together, Reah lent forward to pass an address to the driver. Her other hand left to rest on Nikolai's knee as she did so.
Nikolai leaned over towards Reah to speak with her as the cab drove on. He’d started by asking what she was doing, and Reah had acted all coy and innocent. When he caught on that she was hinting (broadly) at wanting to sleep with him, he’d immediately starting raising objections. “What about Zoë?” had been the first one.
She had a deft answer to each and every one, so that by the time the cab was pulling up to the motel, it actually seemed like a relationship with her was the smart move. With someone who could accept him for who he was, someone who wouldn’t be freaked out.
She had managed to wear down his resistance, and the events became a certainty at the point when she leaned over to plant a kiss on him.
He didn’t move away, instead responding tentatively to her, as if to ask she was sure she wanted that. She had nodded slightly, holding him until the cab reached its destination. Only the fact that they were going to be walking out in public was holding them back.
With one hand behind, leading Nikolai, Reah briskly made their way towards a specific motel room, key already in hand.
Without a moment's hesitation she inserted the key and flung the door open as soon as the audible ‘click’ snap released the lock. She grinned earnestly, giving Nikolai a firm tug that lurched him into a stumble, landing next to her.
Taking one final swift scan of the night outside, Reah turned about, pressing her back hard up against the door and slamming it shut. There was another audible ‘click’.
Biting her lip lasciviously, Reah purposefully directed her body towards Nikolai, then proceeded to dangle the key just in front of her well rounded, emphasised chest. “If you want it,” she teased, peering up at him through devious eyes; the briefest, odd glint flashing dangerously across them, “you’ll have to come and get it!”
“If that is a challenge…” he started, smiling at her and walking towards Reah. He put his arms around her before pulling her close to him, kissing her. It was a softer, more exploring kiss than they had shared on G'rnatha, as demonstrated by the fact that her return did not threaten to sprain his neck this time.
“I accept,” he completed the thought.
Reah closed her hand around the key, slipping it into a pocket of her jeans. She moved with Nikolai towards the bed, feeling his hands move softly over her body. Pushing his trench-coat off, she let it fall to the floor before they moved closer to the bed.
It was almost time, she knew.
Nikolai continued to kiss her, letting his hands trail under her shirt while Reah explored him. He felt Reah deftly locate and lift his pistol from its hiding place, dropping it on the floor.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nikolai asked, kissing her throat while they moved towards the bed.
Reah nodded once, with a hint of sadness that he recognized far too late. His mind flashed to the beginning in the cave, the claws barely missing his head. They had been intended to kill him, and it wasn’t just the heat of the moment. A flash of blades, and he moved aside with dulled reflexes. Maybe, if he was really lucky, he could get out of it…
Her hand was aiming right at his throat, swerving at the last moment. Nikolai cried out in pain as her claws ripped into his shoulder, giving him a very nasty and painful gash. He stumbled onto the floor in pain, rolling onto his back, looking up at her with questioning eyes, able to only say one word. “Why?”
Reah couldn’t look at him, she’d blown it completely now: her cover, the job, everything! She had to finish the job. Regardless.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, still averting her eyes from locking on his. Reluctantly, she strolled over to his writhing form and stomped her foot down hard on his good arm, despite all protests, securing it in place as she steeled herself, “Please forgive me.”
In one swift motion, her leg pivoted with a kneeling drive, slamming hard into his chest. The air rushed out of him like a burst vent, as her thumb dug painfully into his wounded shoulder. And in the split second his head threw back in a silenced, breathless scream, Reah’s fist was already drawn back ready to strike. Though this time, it didn’t miss.
Darkness enveloped Nikolai’s world…
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday, 12 October 2006
6:23am
Damen paced in what passed for a clinic used by a demon named L’Than. A permanent scent of incense clung to the room from the sheer volume she used in treatment, while instrumental music played, appropriate to a particular deity whose identity Damen neither remembered nor cared about. A shelf sitting above the sink held a combination of herbs and some more modern treatments. Light could clearly be provided by either a number of candles or electrical lights.
L’Than herself worked over the body of the man laying on the table, using modern surgical tools to close his wound. She wore a simple black robe, her hair loose and straight, a golden circlet with a ruby around her head. Green mosaic scales covered her body as soft yellow eyes intently looked down at her patient.
“Please, there is no smoking in my clinic,” said L’Than, sensing Damen’s desire for a cigarette and speaking as he reached for a pack. Her eyes never left her patient as skilled hands worked slowly on the patient. “I’ve only found tobacco smoke to aid in speeding the journey to the other side, though your friend will not require those services.”
“That’s good to hear,” Damen replied, feeling a bit of mild annoyance at not being able to smoke. He had forgotten the Xangyarj were empaths, which made those that practiced medicine quite good at what they did. They were also one of the few races not universally hunted, and got along quite well with humans, though most regarded them as a myth – longer life spans did result in lower birth rates, and it was a wonder they were not extinct.
L’Than finished closing the wound, wiping the closed section with a washcloth, before reexamining the wound. “Your friend should awaken in half an hour from the herbs I gave him.” She made a few motions with her hands – more signs of divine protection, Damen thought – before turning back to him.
Damen looked at Nikolai Makarov resting peacefully on the table. He was still amazed at his timing in actually locating his friend, hearing about the sighting at the club with the woman hired to kill him – then getting in a cab with her, finally finding the motel. “Thank you,” he said to L’Than. “How much do I owe you?”
“As much or as little as your conscience dictates,” L’Than replied. “I have enough funds to operate for quite some time.” Besides which, she did not add or feel she should have to, healing him was the right thing to do. Still there was concern she felt for the man now lying there on the bed. There was a darkness about him, a wound in his soul that had been present for a long time. She could tell, having an instinct for such things.
L’Than disappeared off in the back for a while, leaving Damen to stand vigil over his friend. He waited for around half an hour before at last Nikolai began to regain consciousness, groaning and beginning to move.
“Hey, take it easy, man,” Damen said to him.
Nikolai slowly blinked, opening his eyes to take in his surroundings. He was obviously in a hospital of sorts, though not exactly regular. Focusing on the source of the voice, he noted the familiar blonde haired and shaded figure of the man he had met long ago in Sicily, and now knew had been searching for him. “Trigger?” he said.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Damen replied. “Good thing for you I came along when I did. Any more blood loss and L’Than wouldn’t have been able to help you.”
“L’Than?” he asked in confusion.
Damen motioned to a figure in the corner, and he focused on the grey-skinned being who nodded once to him. “Yeah, she’s a demon. Which reminds me, why do you have horns and blue eyes? When did you join those of us in the know about the occult?”
“Long story,” Nikolai said, trying to sit up. He groaned again and lay back down, L’Than moving swiftly near the bed again and telling him to rest. “Reah,” he said simply.
"Who’s Reah, that chick in your apartment?” Damen asked. He sighed, looking down at Nikolai. “I have to warn you man, someone’s here trying to kill you.”
“I know,” Nikolai said. “Reah… Reah is the one who just tried.”
“I think you’d better fill me in on what happened,” Damen said.
Nikolai started at the beginning, explaining his change in appearance, how he knew Reah. He told Damen of the trip to Gr’Natha, the various battles and challenges.
When he got to the cave, Damen could not contain himself and began on one of his famous Trigger rants. “What?” he said when Nikolai described them making out. “Did I miss a fucking meeting or something? When did you become an interdimensional James Bond, and go around screwing the girl who’s hired to kill you? You blew it if you tried, she’s supposed to fall for you and spill the plot, not literally stick her claws in you.”
“Calm down, Trigger,” Nikolai said midway through the rant, and continued to tell the story. The return home, the breakup with Zoë, meeting with Reah at the club, “And that’s the point where you found me,” he said, honestly unable to remember anything after her plea for forgiveness.
“Shit,” Damen said. “Well, I’ve got worse news for you. Lavrenti Sabarov is the one who hired her.”
Nikolai’s eyes opened wide at that. Sabarov! “Of all the… how the hell did that no-good slippery bastard survive the fall of the Soviet Union?”
“I don’t know, just that he’s here, and I still owe you for Sicily and a couple other places,” Damen said, clasping his hands together. “So, boss, what now?”
Nikolai thought long and hard for several minutes, about what he knew. A plan began to form in his mind. It was all so clear as it formed. “First, let’s see to it that word on the street is I’m dead. Your temper is famous, just kick the shit out of someone and when they ask what’s wrong, say it’s because I’m dead.”
“Sounds fun so far,” Damen replied, smiling. He really would find it fun, Nikolai thought. Damen was the kind of man who would get plastered, then go out to literally paint the town as his idea of a good time. “You want to do the honours on Reah or should I? I know you want Lavrenti…”
“Patience,” Nikolai said, smiling. Despite his forceful introduction to the world of demons and magic, he was almost glad to be back in the familiar territory of the underworld, in which dead bodies were used as messages. This was his world. “Find out where she lives first. And watch out for Tasha – she’s a telepath.”
“Got that covered already,” Damen said. “Teeps hate me. Can never tell when I’m bullshitting them. It’s fun to watch them get all paranoid.”
For the first time since returning from the alien world, Nikolai enjoyed a good laugh.
“Get close to Reah,” Nikolai said at last, tightly controlled rage evident in his voice. “Befriend her, let her think I’m dead. These spikes are supposed to go away in a month, so I should be better able to move without attracting attention then. I need to go check on Zoë – how long was I out for this time?”
“L’Than kept you under for a day and half to work on you,” Damen said. He had a soft spot for women, considering the love he bore his sister and her untimely demise. Even without owing Nikolai his life, Damen would want to see Sabarov done in for the stories Nikolai told about him. “What happens then, boss? Once I’m close to Reah,” he asked, returning to the more immediate matter.
“Then?” Nikolai said. “I want her alive. Reah is going to tell us everything she knows about Sabarov. Then both of them will die.”
Damen smiled at that, while L’Than merely sighed in resignation at her inability to change fate. She could feel the determination from the two men. It was a depressing if familiar feeling to her.
“You may hide here,” she said to the man called Nikolai. She was dedicated to saving life, and knew that there was time. Perhaps she could convince him to change his course, once his anger had at last subsided.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
10th October, 2006,
8:20pm
The caretaker opened the door to the apartment and Jessy stepped in. She looked around but it was too dark, however she could smell a musty smell as if it hadn’t been opened for ages. The caretaker also stepped in and switched the lights on, so that now Jessy could fully make out the apartment. At the entrance there was a somewhat large lounge area, on one side of which stood a long kitchen, and the other side of which were doors to two rooms. There was also a window, however unlike her sister’s this one didn’t have a terrace.
Apart from the film of dust and the occasional spider webs that Jessy came across as she walked about exploring it further, there was nothing wrong with it. She sighed, “Fine, I’ll take it for about two weeks.”
The caretaker didn’t seem to be much enthused whether she took it or not but nodded and replied “Sorry, this ain’t no motel, the minimum stay should be for two months, with one month's rent in advance.”
“What? Fine, whatever, I’ll give you the payment tommorow.”
He nodded again and Jessy had a feeling as if his head was on a hinge. “Come and sign the contract downstairs and I’ll give you the key.” After which he locked the door as soon as Jessy had come out and started to walk towards the stairs but stopped in front of the next apartment.
“Wait a mintute, I remember you,” he said turning around. “Didn’t you already take an apartment here?” he pointed.
Jessy gritted her teeth and tried to smile sweety, “No, I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else.” And with that continued to walk down the stairs to avoid any more questions, and the caretaker followed her.
* * *
At first when Jessy had brought Tarix over she just lay on her bed not moving. Partly because movement seem to require too much strength and partly because she just wanted to lay there. From time to time she would hear her door open and close and someone come in and go out. She knew it was either Thule or Jessy, but pretended to be asleep.
That was until Jessy came and stood there, and Tarix knew she hadn’t gone as she felt her eyes on her back. Finally Tarix spoke up “Please, leave me alone.”
“It’s not like I’m enjoying this Jazz, and if it weren’t for Thule I wouldn’t be here. Man, does he have some persuasive power, mostly in the way he looks at you. Anyway, are you going to get up and swallow something or do I have to shove a spoon down your throat?”
Tarix rolled so that she was facing Jessy now. “Why the hell do you care? Why won’t you let me die and rot in peace, that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Jessy threw up her hands. “Oh for the love of… Look sister dear, if you think that you are going to just lay there and cry yourself to sleep every night and feel really sorry for yourself that the world would start having some sympathy for you then you are wrong. What you did, there is no forgiveness, and there shouldn’t be any, but if you continue to lay there like a piece of rubbish for someone to come, pick you up and dump you in the bin it won’t happen.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “The pain, it’s not going to go away, not like this. What has happened has damn well happened, and no matter how much you wet your pillow by your tears it will stay that way. The only way you can make the pain go away is stop being such a prat and not kill anyone.”
Tarix didn’t move, but just looked down towards her pillow. Jessy gave up and went towards the door. “I bought you some food and put it in the fridge, I also live next door for the time being so try not to bang things around as I like the peace and quiet,” she said behind her and closed to door as she went towards her own apartment.
The Bearer of Bad Tidings
Thursday, 12th October 2006 – 4:30pm
Trigger stopped partly up the stairs just long enough to check that his gun and shades were in place. Reah was supposed to be a friend of Tash's, and if the girl was there he had no intention of joining Nikolai in recovering from an attack. Taking the steps two at a time, he began to knock on the door of Tash's apartment - 205, he had been told. Trigger waited a few minutes before knocking again, this time louder. And louder. He grew more annoyed as he considered the possibility of breaking in to see if she was even home. Then he started to relax.
*Damn, damn, damn. Probably not home.* Turning to look down the hall, he noted an attractive blond woman opening up the door. *Oops.* "Um, hi," he said.
*Bloody hell! Can’t a person get some bloody peace and quiet around here?!* Reah grumbled to herself, though she wasn’t particularly in a very bad mood. It just irritated her when people continuously made noise without any respect for the surrounding inhabitants. She fumbled with the buttons on her jeans after rising from the toilet seat; she spared a hand and reached back to flush before hurriedly washing her hands and strolling curiously to her front door.
Reah smiled, her eyebrows raised in amusement as she watched the dark stranger. She supposed he looked a tad dodgy dressed in all black and wearing sunglasses indoors, but then again, she herself wasn’t your regular everyday chick.
“I heard the glare was a bitch in the corridor.” she said, remarking sarcastically.
*Fuck you,* Trigger thought, though resisted the urge to say this out loud. "Yeah, it really is. Sorry about the noise, I was trying to find someone who lives here. Tash. You know her?"
“I do,” she said with a sly smirk on her face. *Someone’s in a bit of a mood, now, aren‘t they? Lucky for him, I’m not!* she thought.
“She moved upstairs recently. C’mon, I’ll take you to her.”
A map of Los Angeles lay spread out on the table before Tash. More exactly, it was a map of West Hollywood. On it, Tash had marked the streets she'd been down in yellow highlighter. After two nights of searching so far she'd found squat. But there were still plenty of nooks and crannies left to discover, she was sure. A tapping at her door disturbed her train of thought, and she made a wry face as she capped the highlighter and laid it on the table before folding the map over. Not many people knew she was here yet, apart from friends, but she wasn't about to take chances.
Padding across the thick carpet to the front door, she wondered why she and Victor had never moved up here together. Now, however, she was grateful they hadn't. This apartment, at least, held few temptations to be lost in memory. She opened the door and a smile appeared on her face when she saw Reah. It faded only slightly when she realised there was a stranger with her.
"Hi, Reah. Who's your friend?" Tash stayed in the doorway, not quite willing to open the door to this man just yet. Not until she knew a little more.
Trigger blinked behind his shades. Reah? Well, that solved the problem of tracking her down. All he would have to do now is watch her carefully, in case she tried anything. "My name is Damen," he said. "We have a mutual friend, Nikolai Aleksandrovich." Best to get right to the point, he decided.
*Kolya?* Feeling a strange sense of foreboding, Tash opened the door silently. She felt guilty for not having checked up on her friend since he'd come back from G'rnatha. The transformation he'd undergone had been traumatic, and she really should have seen that he was ok, see if the effects were starting to fade at all. With a worried look on her face she gestured to the couches. "Sit down, please. Would you like something to drink?"
He walked into the room with Reah trailing behind him, being careful to at least keep track of the blonde girl's movements. *Damn, Nik. You did not tell me she was cute!*
"No, thank you," he said sitting down on the couch, clasping his hands together. "But, um... you might. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you."
Tash glanced at Reah, noting the look of surprise on the other woman's face. "So it's news to you too, Reah?"
Reah nodded slowly back to Tash. She'd hoped he'd be all right. Sure that he'd survive! *Oh god, please don't let him be dead!*
Tash gathered up three glasses and poured a measure of brandy in each. She sat one before Damen, figuring that if he didn't want it she'd drink it later.
"You knew him too?" Trigger hoped some level of surprise was in his voice as he looked to Reah, watching her reaction. "God, I hate having to do this... I found him the other day. Someone had clawed out his shoulder, left him to bleed to death. I'm sorry... he lasted just long enough to ask me to get in touch with you...”
Tash sat heavily, clutching her glass in her hand. "What? Dead? Are you sure?" She picked up no sense of a lie from the man, but something about his aura made her slightly uneasy. She just couldn't say what. She looked over at Reah, who had gone ashen.
"No, he can't be dead,” Tash muttered, “Not him as well..."
Reah shook her head defiantly, echoing Tash’s mutters under her breath. She started to feel light-headed and sick, fear and worry mercilessly twisted her gut into tightly stretched knots, *He can’t!* “No!” *Shit!*
Slightly shaken by the news, Reah slowly reached out to collect her drink, quelling the rising lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. She was careful with how much eye contact she made with the man, Damen. She couldn’t be too sure just how much Nikolai did manage to say before passing away.
Clasping drink in hand, Reah had her eyes closed, progressively shaking her head as she tried to deny the doubts that streamed through her mind. Who was this guy? And how did he just happen to find Nikolai before he died? Sabarov’s words started to emerge, echoing louder and louder in her mind: “I know Kolya. If he survives, he will come after you… And someone has already been coming after you.”
*He… he can’t be! I don’t believe him.* Reah glanced at Tash, sadness and worry marring her forehead, then turned accusing eyes on Damen, *Who is this guy? If I could just get a last name…* Her mouth parted slightly to ask, then closed it again as if lost for words.
Tash barely registered the changing expressions on Reah's face, and only dimly hearing her 'No' of protest. Instead, she stared into her drink for a moment before dragging her gaze back up to Damen. "You were there when he died... what killed him?" she said with quiet determination.
That would be no simple answer to give, since in a sense he was dead just from the fact of living. People died a series of little deaths on the way to the final death. "Well, that's the million dollar question. Word on the street is that Lavrenti Sabarov ordered the hit, but nobody is saying jack about who took the contract."
Tash blinked. "You mean a hum... er, his old boss killed him?" She could barely credit it. In her line it was so rare for someone to die from human causes that it seemed unreal. "But you said his shoulder was clawed open," she countered.
The news was so fresh, so raw, that her grief was overwhelmed by the desire to hunt down and destroy whatever had done this. She'd had nothing to blame Victor's death upon but circumstance. Nobody on which to exact vengeance. For Kolya, though, there was something. It had to be a demon. *Please, let it be a demon,* she begged silently.
Damen sighed. She knew about the occult if she was a telepath, and he hated the guessing games people in the know loved to play. "Yes, a human ordered the hit - and before you say anything, unless you're Nik you don't work the streets without learning about the weird stuff out there." He stopped to take a big gulp of the drink before reaching for a cigarette.
"Clawed, yes. Not a clue by what though. As I said, if anyone knows who did the job, they aren't talking. Yet."
"Well there've got to be some clues!" Reah pressed the situation, trying to find out as much as she could, watching his reactions carefully, "Surely you know something! Whoever did this needs to be brought to justice."
"Justice, hell," Tash growled. "If the thing that did the 'hit', as you so quaintly put it, wasn't human, I'll see its entrails strewn across half of LA." Tash's hand was shaking, and she put down her glass before she sloshed brandy over her carpet.
The famous Trigger temper snapped. He could understand the outrage, but mostly he was pissed at Reah. The woman doing it wanting to bring the person to justice...
"It doesn't matter if it was human or not, ok?" he snapped. "The streets don't care if you're human or not. This is the way we do things in our world. First, we find out where the fuck Sabarov is. I'm gonna find that bastard, and you know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna take my baseball bat, and hit a fucking home run with his head, then when nobody can recognise the bastard anymore, I'm going to put enough lead in him that you could smuggle a fucking tank through the x-ray machine. That's street justice, ok?”
*That feels better,* he thought after getting that off his chest. "Sorry," he added sheepishly, "I'm just a little pissed off at the moment; finding your friend clawed will do that to you."
Ironically, at Damen's tirade Tash felt her own thirst for retribution fading somewhat. His vehemence outweighed even her own and she found herself blanching at his casual regard for human life. She sighed mentally, *Just like Kolya. What else should I expect from his friend?* Still, she could understand the sentiment.
“Trust me, Damen," she said, "I'm keen to find out who did this just as much as you are. Kolya deserved better than to die like that." She dropped her eyes to her lap and spoke softly, with a catch in her voice. "Did he say anything else before he died?"
"Yeah," he said, trying to watch Reah's reaction more. "Supposed to find Zoë, pass on the bad news, but I can handle that. Listen, Tash... you were his friend. You may want to disappear. Something bad went down between those two, and whoever did the job... well, who knows who else is on the list?"
Reah’s eyes squared on him, slightly offended and questioning, but inside she knew she had him. She exchanged quizzical glances with Tash, then turned back to watch the bastard, curious to see what else he had to say. *Who are you, mister Damen? And why am I suddenly not worth protecting?* she thought, wondering if Tash’d pick up on it at all.
Tash's mind was in such turmoil that nothing much made sense, but Reah's unease was almost palpable. There was something going on that Tash wasn't aware of, she was sure. Some undercurrent that she wasn't privy to. She faced Damen and asked the only question she could think of, though she was sure it wasn't what Reah wished to know.
"So why would this Sabarov be after me, all of a sudden? I thought his vendetta with Kolya was personal?" Something else jogged at Tash's brain. She found herself adding, "And why me and not Reah?"
"Reah?" he said in mock shock, looking over at the young blonde woman. She had definitely done it, and looked worried that he was on to her. But there was something else. *Oh come on, don't tell me you regret it.*
"He mentioned two names, Zoë Taylor and Tasha Brookes, in that order. And you don't know Lavrenti; I've heard the stories. They say he once deported an entire family because a woman didn't want to sleep with him."
“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Reah started, eyeing him carefully with a look of confusion and accusation still painting her features, “but we don’t know you that well, and you’ve come in here, to our homes, telling us that Nik has suddenly turned up dead and now Tash’s life is possibly in danger, too. Who are you?”
"Who am I?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm guy who's trying to do an old, dead friend a favour, ok? Far as I'm concerned, mission accomplished. If you were chummy with him, I'd avoid Sabarov too." He was amazed at how hard it was to keep his temper in check. She had tried to murder his friend, a man who saved his life before. Only that loyalty to his friend kept him from plugging her on the spot.
The rising tension in the room was almost suffocating. "Ok, guys," Tash said placatingly, "we're all upset. Our friend had just died." A single tear rolled down her cheek as she thought of that. First Victor, now Kolya. It was almost too much to bear. "Let's lower the testosterone levels a bit, eh? And yes, I mean yours too Reah."
Tash picked up her glass again and took a sip of the brandy, feeling its warmth penetrate to her gullet. "Frankly, right now I don't care if you're Satan himself. Or," she laughed hollowly, "the entire Brotherhood come to take us out. You've let us know about Kolya, and you were there for him at the end." Tash raised her glass to Damen in salute. "For that, I thank you."
"I'm sorry," Reah resigned, fighting against her urges to cry openly in front of the man. Seeing Tash's falling tear didn't help much at all either. It just reminded her of Victor too, now. "I suppose I was getting a tad aggressive there. It's just..." her breath caught, *He's dead...* "We…"
Reah gritted her teeth, unable to bear the news she was hearing. It just wasn't fair! It wasn't right... "FUCK!” Reah slammed her fist hard into the chair’s arm, “I'm going to kill the one who did this."
The pain was too much at last for Tash. "Oh, Reah. I thought, on G'rnatha, that it was just... I'm sorry, I didn't realise," she stammered. It was almost as though she'd heard the rest of the sentence Reah had started. We were lovers. Tash reached out and grasped Reah's hand, squeezing tightly. "I'll miss him too, Reah."
*Oh for the love of...* Trigger shook his head again slowly, downing his drink completely in one long draught. Which made the situation much, much better. He stood up, finally lighting his cigarette.
"You really mean that?" he asked Reah in wonder. *It would be a nice trick to see.* "Good. You can come with me when I find that Russian."
Glancing from Damen to Reah and back again, Tash shook her head in confusion. There was definitely something going on there. Absently she pushed across a spare coaster for Damen to use as an ashtray and watched distractedly at the curl of smoke that rose from the glowing tip of his cigarette.
"Sabarov. He ordered Kolya killed. Damn," Tash muttered. She looked at Reah who was frowning at Damen still. "Reah, I know you want to kill the one responsible for this, but humans... They aren't part of my job description, you know?"
She'd managed to get this far without ever killing a human, though once or twice she'd come close. "Kolya and I had many discussions about just this issue. I believe he respected my position even if he didn't hold to it himself. I don't think I can compromise my principles, even for him.” Tash looked down to hide the tears that fell faster now. "Damn," she muttered again.
Reah returned the sympathy that Tash had offered her earlier. Softening her gaze, she stretched out her arm to rub the other woman’s back comfortingly. “I’m sorry Tash. I’ve been through too much, I can barely describe. I hope you understand,” she said softly. “If you want, I’ll leave you out of this one loop. But if I find anything else...”
Tash merely shook her head. "I don't know, Reah. I really don't. I can't think..." She looked up at Damen again. "Got another one of those?" she asked, gesturing to his cigarette.
Tash took the offered cigarette and allowed Damen to light it for her. She inhaled, then coughed heartily for several moments. "Sorry," she gasped, stubbing the cigarette out again on the coaster. "I don't know what came over me. I don't smoke..."
She swallowed a larger gulp of her brandy, trying to soothe the raw patch the smoke had made in her throat. Her brain just wanted to shut down. In the space of a week she'd lost her husband and now one of her best friends. Add to that the upcoming battle with the Brotherhood and it was just too much. She couldn't deal with murder as well.
"I'm sorry, Reah. I can't. I just can't. But if the thing that did the deed wasn't human, I'd like to track it down."
*I'm gonna puke,* Trigger thought at the apparent wussing out of Tash at the thought of actually taking retribution. What kind of American was she?
"Oh, don't worry,” Reah answered Tash, “I'll let you know."
The Beginning Of The End
Friday, 13th October 2006 - 6.30pm
The orange rays of sunset gradually faded as day became twilight and twilight turned into night. It was strangely quiet; the street leading up to the Hyperion was empty and almost ominous in its silence. Not even a breeze rustled the browning leaves on the trees.
The third floor of the hotel was pitch black. Heavy drapes obscured the windows, blocking out even the garish illumination of the street lamps below.
She did not mind the dark. Not any more. A wry smile tugged at her lips as she thought back to how terrified she'd once been. *Has it already been a year?* She stretched luxuriously, revelling in the feel of black silk sheets against her naked body. *My, my... How time does fly...* She slid off the bed and sauntered over to push back the velvet curtains. She had shown no adverse reaction to sunlight, but Valerian had insisted that every nook and cranny of the Hyperion be 'protected', her dwellings included. Which explained why all her room windows were coated. *And why I have to put up with these ghastly, tacky, 'slabs' of velvet hanging on my walls.*
She sniffed contemptuously and turned her back on the offending pieces of fabric to slip into a red silk kimono. She wanted to speak to Valerian before he busied himself with whatever activity he had planned for the night. *And before ol' Sammie girl starts lurking around, begging for handouts.* She rolled her eyes heavenward. The fledgling and her were definitely not going to be as close as sisters, as Valerian had originally hoped. Sam loathed the very air she breathed. *Probably because she can't draw breath herself.* Smirking at her own cattiness, she left her room.
*****
Valerian arched an elegant eyebrow, his dark eyes boring into hers as he debated her request. One did not need vampiric night vision to see that the Elder questioned the wisdom of letting his daughter venture out on her own. He had not turned her, preferring for the moment that she remain immune to the usual weaknesses endured by their kind. He had, of course, monitored her carefully, aiding her dark embrace with dosages of his own blood. As expected, her vampire nature seemed to thrive in spite of the fact that she was still human. The power she contained was tangible to everyone around her and Valerian knew that his precious child would be a formidable force once that power was harnessed and controlled.
*However,* Valerian frowned thoughtfully, *she's still human. Even with her increased speed and strength, she's still fragile. Mortal. Humane.* The possibility that his child still had the remnants of a conscience was a very real one. *Humanity in a vampire is a death wish. I've not waited all this time to risk losing her...* Valerian's thoughts were interrupted as Jade crossed the room to where he sat, dropped to the floor next to his feet and rested her head on his thigh.
"Please daddy," she purred, her eyes soft as she looked up at her father and pouted. "I promise I'll be careful."
*****
He shouldn't be here. He knew that but he couldn't stay away. Sorrow stood in the darkness of a shadowed alcove in the heart of downtown Los Angeles. The Society's attacks had eased up over the last week or so. Probably taking stock of the situation, wondering if they really wanted to risk an Elder's wrath to kill him. Not that Sorrow had any doubts on that score. The Society had risked self-destruction once before over the death of a Knight. They'd do it again, even in this independent age.
The demons of L.A. had backed off completely. The Brotherhood were the rulers of this city's underside now, and having seen what had happened to the vampires, none of L.A.'s denizens wished to face Valerian. So Sorrow had had a chance to heal a little, to rest his weary body and let his magical reserves recover a little, and now with his ribs no longer brutalising his torso and his various bruises fading, he'd returned to the night darkened streets.
They had another two weeks before they could attack and Sorrow knew he shouldn't be tempting fate by actually hunting, especially considering how scarce the prey was nowadays, but he needed to know. Was she out here? Did she feed? Would he one day have to face her down the length of his glowing blade?
So he walked through L.A. listening for Jade's unique song. The music that even Valerian's manipulations couldn't totally destroy.
*****
She wore black. A simple slim-fitting column of black that whispered against her thighs and left her shoulders bare. Her hair had been left to curl naturally down her back, and small silver hoops adorned her ears.
Jade dismissed the thought of calling for a cab, choosing instead to walk a little down the quiet street. She felt oddly liberated. The tension between her fellow residents had been palpable when she had first arrived and seemed to grow more stifling with each passing day. The fact that Samantha seemed to take great joy in taunting and belittling her whenever possible just made things that much worse. Jade sighed softly, the tightness around her shoulders easing with every step she took away from the Hyperion. A cool breeze toyed with her hair, reminding her that she should have thought of bringing a jacket. Autumn in L.A. had its chilly moments.
Looking down at her outfit, Jade smiled ruefully. She had dressed with infinite care, all the while listing the reasons why her appearance merited the extra attention. It was her 'first night out alone'. A girl didn't need a reason to dress up. Look good, feel good. Wherever she decided on going might have a certain dress code.
*Liar!*
Now that she was finally out and alone, Jade allowed herself to face up to the real reason she wanted to look her best, the real reason behind her wanting to head out on her own.
Sorrow.
Valerian had assured her that Sorrow would come to no harm. She had begged him for the power of his name to pit against the Society of Ulle and Valerian had granted it, his tone brimming with scorn and arrogance, "Those fools will not risk another bloodbath, daughter. Ulle has experienced firsthand the wrath of an Elder. Tristan is safe as long as I say he is one of mine."
Jade did not think her father would lie to her but she wanted, no, needed to see Sorrow for herself. The conflicting emotional demands she had battled since the day she had left him were not going to subside, not until she knew for a fact that her decision had been the right one, one that would keep Sorrow alive. Clenching her teeth, Jade pulled out her mobile to call for a cab.
*****
Jade ignored the toothy leer (and the foul breath!) of the desk clerk, a balding, pot-bellied beanpole of a man, and waited impatiently for him to recall when exactly Sorrow had left. She'd known that the chances of finding Sorrow at the motel she'd last seen him were slim but she figured that she had to start somewhere. In this case, 'somewhere' was listening to an incoherent idiot. Jade's gaze narrowed as the clerk continued to stare stupidly at her breasts, mumbling inaudibly under his breath. When she caught sight of his hand wriggling obscenely in his trouser pocket, her control finally snapped.
In the blink of an eye Jade had the man's skinny throat in a vise, slamming him back against the grubby wall. Her eyes gleamed for a split second, enjoying the growing look of horror on the clerk's face as he watched her canines sharpen into lethal points.
"Don't worry honey," she spat, "I wouldn't bite you if you'd been preserved in disinfectant!" Jade dropped him as his whimpers and the sharp smell of amonia filled the air. Disgusted, she kicked him aside as she left.
*Well, that was a waste of time. Now what?*
*Sense him, you silly child.* Jade gasped as Valerian's voice filled her head. So he knew what she was trying to do. She should have expected that. Sometimes she felt like an open book when it came to her father; he seemed to read her so easily.
*Sense him? Can I? Tell me how daddy...* Jade closed her eyes and concentrated on Valerian's words, her face turned upwards as she attempted to lower her shields and seek to find the only man she'd ever loved.
*****
Sorrow sighed. Nothing. Not one single solitary note. Around him, the rush of humanity continued its various entertainments. In the background, the occasional demon. But Sorrow hadn't heard a single vampire, never mind his erstwhile lover. Sorrow rested against a wall and squeezed the bridge of his nose. A dull throb had taken up residence behind his eyes, a sure sign that he'd overdone his magic, used up whatever reserves he'd garnered in the past few days.
*A fools errand... And you knew it when you started. What would you have done?* With another sigh and groan at the pain, Sorrow moved to a low wall and sat down. Oblivious to the world around him, Sorrow let his despair wash over him.
"Tris..." His name was hardly more than a breath on Jade's lips as she stepped out from where she had been standing in the shadows.
His head whipped round to gaze at the petite woman. "Jade?" He stood and stumbled back slightly even as his shields lowered a little. Despite the pain, despite what he knew he would find, despite everything, Sorrow's senses swept outwards and enveloped her... and then the stumble became a flinch. Darkness, dissonance, evil. It clung to her like watered silk. And yet, something in Sorrow responded to that darkness, even as the rest of him responded to what lay beneath it. Love.
*Be careful what you wish for.* His glances darted up and down the street. It was early, but still there were more than enough people around to make any action difficult. The warring urges - to embrace her, to rip Hizashi from its sheath and attack - calmed and Sorrow regained his balance, pushed down love, despair and anger, leaving behind a frozen void in his heart and ice in his voice.
"Hello, Jade."
Jade wasn't too sure why she had revealed herself to him. All she had originally planned to do upon determining Sorrow's whereabouts was observe him from afar and then leave. But the sight of him suffering and slumped over with despair had been too much for her to bear. Every instinct Jade had warned that letting Sorrow see her would do more harm than good, and still she allowed herself to step forward.
Steeling herself against Sorrow's cold tone, Jade met his piercing gaze. She'd seen the raw pain in Sorrow's emerald green eyes before he clamped down, and knew that under his frigid exterior was a pool of overwhelming, heartwrenching emotions. Even as the darker side of her scorned those feelings, another part rejoiced at the realization that he still cared.
Almost against her will, Jade found herself whispering, "I've missed you."
Sorrow tried to ignore the way those whispered words tugged at him. He wasn't sure what to do. Would a little care and small expression of love draw her to him or just leave him vulnerable? Should he attack verbally, if nothing else to drive away the monster his lover had become, or risk everything for her salvation? The silence stretched on and finally Sorrow spoke.
"I've missed you, too."
He closed his eyes, fought back a tear, then looked at her, "Come home with me..." Shuddering as pain swept through him, "Tash is back, she's hurt though. Victor's gone. She needs us... Her friends." His cheeks were wet by the time his halting speech lapsed into silence.
"Come home, please." This time it was a plea.
"I can't." The vehemence contained within the two words betrayed all the turmoil Jade felt inside. She drew a shaky breath. Why couldn't he understand? If she went back to him, he would die. Her father would leave Sorrow, and only Sorrow, wide open for Ulle to crucify. She knew now that the Society would never touch her.
On top of Sorrow's safety, there was another, more sinister reason she was unable to do what her lover wanted of her. For years, she'd fought the darker side of her nature. The last few weeks, however, had continually driven home the fact that her vampire heritage made up a large part of who she was. Jade had had little choice but to accept that she could never go back to what, where and who she used to be.
Jade didn't think any pain could surpass the agony she'd felt the night she'd left to join her father but this was far worse. Standing next to Sorrow now, hearing him speak of Tash and of 'going home'... Every word tore at her because she knew that it would never happen. Could never happen. They could never happen. Unless...
Jade closed her eyes. Her next words were barely audible, her tone pleading and hesistant at the same time. "Come back with me Tris. Stay with me. Please."
*Oh god...* He'd taken a half step before he even realised he'd moved. "No." And that iron will, the source of over a decade of struggle and striving was written in the lines of his face.
Jade watched as Sorrow mastered love, cast off pain and held himself in check. The ice returned to Sorrow's voice, though perhaps not as strongly. "I asked you who your father was once. Do you remember? You said he was a wonderful, kind, loving man called Simon. That man was murdered by the thing you now call a father. That monster killed my entire family. Stay with you?" The facade cracked again. He wanted to, he ached to forget everything but her, to fall into everything her eyes promised but he couldn't.
"I can't."
Temper flashed hot in Jade's dark eyes and then died. When she spoke, her voice sounded oddly choked. "I recall everything I said Tris. Every last word. My father was indeed a kind, loving man called Simon. He was indeed murdered by the vampire I now acknowledge as my father. And if you're wondering how I can live with myself, it's because I know that Valerian is the one thing standing between the Society of Ulle and the man I love more than life itself!"
Jade swallowed hard. "I have him in me, Tris. It's no use me trying to deny it any more. So many years of running and it's still come to this... I am Valerian's daughter, his blood runs through my veins."
After a pregnant pause, she continued, "I am also the woman you love... Please Tris... Please... I..." Her voice broke, and she turned away so that Sorrow wouldn't bear witness to the naked pain in her eyes.
"Will you feed, Jade? Do you hunt? When he shows you that side of your heritage will you kill? Will you put to 'good' use all the things I taught you about hunting? How many innocent lives am I worth, Jade?"
There was pain in her bearing but it was suddenly easier for Sorrow. No longer tormeted by her eyes, and on far more solid ground. "I'm not worth an innocnet life, Jade... not one." Sorrow stepped closer to her and reached out to touch a shaking shoulder but he stopped just short, his hand closing into a fist. "There's Rose's blood in your veins too. Would she want you to do this?"
The hand he'd raised dropped back to his side. "You're more than just a vampire's spawn. Don't let him tell you any different." And now it was Sorrow who turned away.
The brutality of Sorrow's words hit Jade with the force of a body blow. She felt him reach out for her, felt him pull back and fought the impulse to throw herself into his arms. His mention of her birth mother caused what little colour she had left in her cheeks to drain, making her look like a stricken, waxen doll. She dug her fingernails into the wall next to her, trying desperately to find the support to stop herself from keeling over in pain. For the longest time, there was no sound other than the the harsh rasps of both their breathing.
When she finally spoke, however, Jade's voice was flat and steady. "I have not hunted, nor have I fed from anyone except my father."
Yet.
The word remained unspoken but both Sorrow and Jade knew it was there between them, like a poisonous gas in the air.
"As for you not being worth an innocent life..." Jade's smile was small and humourless, "Well... We've always differed on that topic, haven't we? I might have agonised more about it because of the person I was before, but my decision would be the same as the one I'd make if forced to do so now. So really, accepting my vampiric nature simply just enhanced what I already was."
Jade was no longer sure whether she was being coherent. It was almost all she could do to stop herself from making the biggest mistake of her life and succumbing to the urge to leave with Sorrow, forfeiting Valerian's protection. She had to leave before she did something she regretted.
Slowly, Jade straightened. Her fingernails dug into her palms, drawing blood. She made herself focus on the stinging pain, terrified she would break down and beg him once again. She couldn't allow that to happen. She'd begged. He'd refused. There was nothing left to be said. She couldn't leave with him and go back to being the Jade he wanted. He couldn't follow her to the shadows she'd travelled to.
"I love you, Tris." Without another glance at the dark-haired man before her, Jade walked away.
He felt her start to walk away and his heart shattered, but through the pain he spoke and no trace of the tears that rolled down his cheeks showed. "You are not Jade. You may wear her face and form, but you are not the woman I loved. Should we meet again, I'll bare my blade and cleanse the world of your presence."
"Goodbye."
His heartbroken whisper floated on the air and Sorrow walked away before he gave in and followed her down into the abyss.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Sunday, 15th October 2006 – 10:36pm
Valerian stood beside the open window of his suite in the Hyperion and smelled the sweet scent of jasmine that rose from the walled garden below. It had been almost a month since the last Slayer surge, and he was finding he missed them. His control over his new powers was now almost perfect, and he hungered for more. He was looking forward to the time when the Brotherhood would split again and they’d each track down Slayers to give all of them the power of gods.
Still, the current situation had its compensations. Ellie’s training was progressing well, and Valerian felt that soon they’d be able to unleash the Slayer vampire on the world. And then there was his other daughter. The only one he considered his true daughter. Even as he thought of her, she joined him at the window and placed her pretty head on his shoulder. Valerian smiled and stroked her silken black tresses.
“Dathan’s got another new toy,” she said softly.
“Yes, I know, my flower.”
“You know, maybe you should add to your entourage, too. Find powerful individuals and turn them. You could borrow the creature from Dathan.”
Valerian smiled indulgently, “And what then, my child? Who would you have me join our little family? Aren’t Samantha and I enough for you?”
Her full red lips pouted, “Sam detests me, and you’re busy so often, daddy. I miss my friends…” Her voice grew sly, “You liked Tash, you tried to turn her once. Don’t you want her still? She could keep me company.”
Valerian sighed as he looked into the pleading eyes of his daughter. “Very well. I shall see what I can do to convince Dathan to loan me his new pet.” He bestowed a fatherly kiss on her forehead. “You shall have Natasha as your companion, Jadyn.”
*****
“Remind me again why I should allow you use of my servant?” Dathan grumbled, his face stained with distrust.
“We all benefit from this, Dathan,” Valerian answered, his voice calm and charming. “If your faery can bring to me the girl, we’ll have another powerful ally. If he fails, however, it will prove he was not worthy of being your servant.”
The massive vampire seemed to ponder Valerian’s offer for a minute before finally conceding. He couldn’t argue with Valerian’s rationale, yet still he was apprehensive of the whole idea. “Fine. He will have one night to retrieve this woman,” Dathan said before calling out for his servant.
A moment passed, with nothing, but then the form of a large black raven flew down from the upper balcony and altered into the form of Darian.
“You summoned me, lord Dathan?” The fae bowed. Despite his cravings for freedom, he had no choice but to serve his vampiric master, lest he be banished back into the pits of the human’s body.
“Tonight you will do a favor for Valerian. Is that understood?”
“Of course, master.”
Valerian turned to Evexus and eyed him from top to bottom. He certainly was an interesting acquisition. “So, I understand that the human you share the body with knows the woman Natasha Brookes. I want you to bring her to me, alive,” he said, emphasizing the last word.
Evexus smiled. Even if he hated being a servant, these vampires did provide him with interesting tasks. “Your wish is my command, Valerian.” Evexus once again shrank down into his raven form and flew off through an open window.
Valerian watched the fae leave with a smirk on his face, a smirk which faltered only slightly when Dathan laid a large, meaty paw on his shoulder.
“I’m watching you, Valerian,” he growled. “You’ d better not be up to anything with my minion. He’s mine to turn, not yours.”
“Fear not,” Valerian soothed, “I have no interest in Evexus for myself. I merely wish a companion for my daughter. She requested her friend, Natasha. I think it’s a perfectly fine example of how much like her father Jadyn really is.” Valerian smiled broadly and swept back up the grand staircase.
*****
Tash was prowling the streets of West Hollywood, mere blocks away from the Hyperion, following leads Reah had been able to provide through her new device. Tash wasn’t sure she’d fancy wearing a slug behind her ear, but Reah seemed to have come to terms with it, at least. She had to admit, the information Reah had got from it was damned handy. Detailed coroner’s reports, police files on missing persons – there was always plenty of such activity in Los Angeles, but in the past couple of months the incidents with vampire-like signs had dwindled somewhat in concentrations, except for around this area.
Thinking about Reah, though, led Tash to thinking about Nikolai, and the news she’d received only days ago. She still couldn’t believe it. It felt as though she were walking through a dream sometimes. At night when she finally fell into bed, worn out, she found it hard to sleep. It felt so cold and empty without Victor. Instead she cradled her pillow and cried until exhaustion claimed her. But she had a job to do, and it helped keep her mind off her losses, at least for a while.
So this was where Tash was spending her nights now. So far she’d turned up little of interest, but she had a feeling in her gut that soon she would get some sort of a break. Some hint that might show her where to really concentrate her search for the Brotherhood’s lair.
“Excuse me pretty lady, could you spare a few coins for an old man?” a gruff voice called out from the dark alley. Turning to see who spoke, Tash noticed a dirty old vagrant holding a whiskey bottle. “You wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to help an old friend would you?”
Just as it had with Matthias, Tash's senses noted something not quite right about this old tramp. The aura was too bright - all wrong. But unlike Matthias, she didn’t recognise this particular aura. Her eyes narrowing suspiciously, she held her wrists so she could grab her knives from their sheathes in a moment and asked, “Who are you?”
The old man's face twisted into a toothless grin. "Maybe you would recognize me better if I looked like this," he said, shimmering for a second.
In the place of the old man stood the form of Tash's vampire brother, Deon. "But you know what, Tashy-Pooh, this form is SO last year."
A second later the kid shimmered once again, and this time changed into a young man with curly blonde hair and dashing good looks. But Tash could see beyond physical aesthetics, and she could sense the malevolence behind his angelic exterior.
"I think its time I properly introduce myself: I am the one and only... LOKI!" he said with an extravagant bow.
Now in a full ready fighting stance, Tash remarked, “Loki, eh? You’re well named, certainly. At least now we’ve been formally introduced. Darian has told me so much about you. Shall I just kill you now, or do you want to fuck with my brain first?”
"Oh calm down ya eager beaver. I’m not here to fight you or fuck with your head. Of course I may not be opposed to fuc -" he stopped himself, letting Tash finish the sentence for herself. "The truth is I’m here because I think we can help each other."
Tash tilted her head to one side. "Right. And this would be from the goodness of your heart? Oh, wait, I forgot - you're the evil son of a bitch who tried to make me and Darian kill each other in January."
"Come on, stop living in the past. That’s ancient history, honey." Loki continued to smile his wide mischievous smile, something that really annoyed Tash. "Well, aren’t you even going to bother asking WHAT it is we can help each other with?"
Tash rolled her eyes, but refused to let her guard down for a second. "Ok then, what's the deal with the mutual protection society?"
"See, was that so hard? Now here’s the big bad news in a nutshell: Our boy Darian isn’t really himself any more, and this is bad for everyone. What do I mean 'isn’t himself'?" Loki continued, cutting off Tash before she could ask.
"Well, it seems that somehow the nasty faery inside him got free, and is out and about able to cause chaos and havoc. Now I’m all about the doom and gloom, but my bosses don’t want him free to run around. So I was sent here to put him back in. Now where do you come in?" he said again as if taking the words from her mouth, "Well Darian, or should I say ‘Bizarro Darian’, will no doubt go after the people he was close to when he was normal, i.e. you."
"Oh, lovely," Tash murmured when she was sure Loki had really ground to a stop. "So you're hoping to follow me around and wait for Evexus..." She chuckled lightly at Loki's wide-eyed expression at that. "Yes, I know his name, and a little about him," she said.
Picking up where she'd left off, Tash continued, "You'll wait for Evexus to show up to bump me off or whatever he wants to do and then what? Leap in to rescue me and finish the job for your bosses? I'm more inclined to think you'll wait until I'm faery chowder and then deal with him."
Loki opened his mouth but Tash held up a hand, stalling him. "No," she said. "What we'll do is we'll go find Darian for ourselves and see if we can't rebind Evexus. I know someone who was able to help with that before. She might be able to do it again..."
At first Loki seemed upset to be shushed, but upon consideration, he enjoyed the woman's spunk. "No need to bring in the cavalry baby, I’ve got it all covered. Alls I need from you little lady," he said imitating a thick southern accent, "is to keep the D-man busy while I perform the spell. Then poof, big bad faery gets placed back where he belongs. And don’t worry," he continued, "Once everything is right again in the world, I’m not sticking around. There’s a lot of shi-at going around in this neck of the woods, and I’m not going to stay long enough to watch my sexy ass get vamped by some old cronies.”
Tash put her hands on her hips and surveyed Loki for a moment. She had no sense from him of deception. Apparently he'd been told by his 'bosses' - whoever they might be - to toe the line this time. "Ok," she nodded finally. "So all we have to do is find..." Her words were cut off sharply as a raven swooped out of the sky right over her head. Tash ducked to avoid being raked by its talons.
“What the hell?” she exclaimed.
Guest Starring Ryan Phillippe as Loki
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Sunday, 15th October 2006 – 11:02pm
"Well, well, well... Look who we have stumbled across," Evexus laughed as he once again returned to Darian's form. “We must say, we were never expecting to see you here," he continued, turning his cold glare over to Loki. "Does your Order deem you capable of dealing with me?"
Loki was visibly shaken. He knew what it was he had to do, but he was not prepared for it quite at this instant. "Natasha, sweetie, now is a good time for the distracting I told you about a second ago."
Tash folded her arms and eyed Loki disdainfully. “What, you want me to wave my arms about and say ‘bad raven’? Some protector you turned out to be.”
She turned to Evexus, who looked disarmingly like her friend Darian but for the vicious cast to his features. “Loki here was just telling me you might be paying me a visit,” she said, then her expression saddened. “Oh Darian, I knew we should have had Alice redo those runes on you after we’d come home – but I was a bit distracted. I’m so sorry.”
‘Bizarro-Darian’, as Loki had called him, began to giggle. "You think her magic could hold me in? Our master's power is vast and he would have freed us regardless. Now girl, we are generous and will give you the option: Come with us calmly, or else we shall have to take you by force."
"Hmm, tough choice," Tash mused. "Let's see. You want me to go with you to God knows where..." She paused and changed tack with a frown, "Good question, that. You don't just want to kill me? How novel."
As Tash and Evexus exchanged words, Loki had retrieved a small onyx stone with a tiny rune carved on it from his pocket. All he needed was a minute max to perform the spell; he just hoped Tash could hold Evexus off long enough.
"Oh, as much as we would like to dismember you human, our master's ally wishes to have you alive, and so we must comply. Now we are growing bored with this chatter." Evexus just focused his gaze on Tash, and walked forward, his strides wide and confident.
“Just hold him off for like a few seconds... well maybe a minute, tops," Loki called as he began to concentrate on the stone.
“Sure thing,” Tash muttered as her knives appeared in her hands. She had her gun, but this was Darian’s body – she didn’t want to kill him. Luckily, it seemed that Evexus was under orders from whoever had sent him not to kill her either. She leapt forward, slashing both left and right with her blades, but Evexus moved so fast she could barely keep pace with her eyes, let alone her hands, as he suddenly grabbed her left wrist and twisted the knife free from her grasp.
The blade clattered to the ground and Tash backed up warily. *Shit! I was expecting him to fight like Darian. But now he’s so fast!*
“Ok,” she said, desperately trying to buy time, “maybe force isn’t such a good idea. What was that other option again? Who did you say wanted to see me?”
"Idiot fool," Evexus roared as his attention turned to Loki. Using his immense strength, he tossed Tash to the side and rushed towards the trickster.
Loki didn’t have time to react; his mind and body were too far gone into the spell. Evexus brought his foot up sharply, kicking Loki square in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked him hard into the wall of the closest building, but what was worse was that Loki had dropped the rune-inscribed onyx.
"So, you think you would bind us once again, back into this disgusting human?"
"He is pretty gross, isn’t he?" Loki replied as he pushed off the wall, jumping towards Evexus. But even with his abnormal speed the half fae was no match for the real thing. Evexus parried and countered every attack before finally lifting a single finger and uttering an ancient word of power. A brilliant flash of purple light exploded from the fae's finger and sizzled towards Loki, causing his body to spasm and shake upon contact.
"We may actually bring you back as well. I’m sure Lord Dathan would be pleased."
Tash blanched. “Dathan? Your master is Dathan?” She was immediately sorry she’d spoken, as Evexus’ attention focused once more on her. She glanced in horror at Loki whose tremors were barely beginning to ease, then back into the dark eyes of Evexus, so unlike Darian’s own.
She drew herself up and forced herself to look into those orbs. “Dathan did this to you? And you want to take me to him… All right,” she said with a worried glance at Loki. “Take me to your master.”
Right now it didn’t look like she had much option anyway, and at least now she’d discover where the vampires were staying, perhaps. The only trick would be how to let the others know what she was about to learn. Maybe she’d find some way of escaping. *Yeah, there are only four Elder vampires and an ex-Slayer vampire, plus God knows how many minions. No worries,* she mentally rolled her eyes.
Evexus twiddled his finger, and the fallen onyx flew from the ground straight into his waiting palm. "It will be rather difficult to perform your spell without this," he laughed as he crushed the stone in his hand, letting the dust fly off in the wind. "Now where were we? Ah yes," he turned once again to face Tash. “Are you quite ready to come with me?"
Tash steeled herself, ready to follow this evil fae right to the lion’s den, but Loki had recovered somewhat and barrelled into her, carrying her with him away from Evexus. He grabbed her hand and dragged her along, shouting, “Don’t be foolish. That onyx was the only way I had of defeating him.”
Surprise mingled with fury mingled with relief at being swept away from her purpose. She ran behind Loki, hearing Evexus’ footsteps start up behind them. “What?” she hissed, “Are you trying to tell me you put everything you had into that fragile gem? Oh, brilliant.”
All thoughts of going quietly with Evexus fled Tash’s mind when she heard him hissing and growling behind them. "HAHAHA," Evexus’ laughter rang out behind the fleeing couple. "Run as fast as your pathetic human legs can carry you, it won’t matter."
“He’s right, we can’t outrun him.” Tash wrenched her hand free of Loki’s grasp and planted her feet, sliding to a halt even as she drew her gun from its holster. Evexus almost overran her, not expecting this sudden reversal. Time seemed to move in slow motion for Tash. She heard Loki yelling at her, calling her a fool. She heard her own blood pounding in her ears as she aimed the gun.
“I’m sorry Darian,” she whispered and pulled the trigger.
The gun boomed loudly in her ears and she saw the blood blossom from Evexus, exactly where she’d aimed, and the look of surprise on his face. She turned and ran after Loki, glad that her shot had been true. “Come on!” she yelled, “My bike is just around the corner. We don’t have much time.”
Evexus howled in pain as he fell to the ground. The bullet had hit its mark in his kneecap, successfully halting his motions, if only for now.
"Wow. You realize, in a way, you just shot Darian?" Loki smirked as he kept running. "I think I like you more already." The two finally arrived at Tash's waiting bike, and within moments were peeling off in search of sanctuary.
"So, do you think the bullet will stop him for long?" Loki questioned as he cast a nervous look back.
“I doubt it. Just shut up and hold tight,” Tash muttered. She wanted to hit Loki for his remark about Darian, but he was right. She had just shot her friend. It was the only reason she hadn’t aimed for Evexus’ heart. She glanced over her shoulder. *And I may live to regret that.*
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Sunday, 15th October 2006 – 11:54pm
A dog barked insistently at the sound of the bike squealing to a halt before the apartment building. Ignoring the animal, Tash leapt from the bike moments after Loki and the pair raced up the stairwell to Darian's apartment. Neither had a key, of course, but Loki muttered and gestured at the door and soon it sprang open. Loki moved swiftly inside, checking out the flat while Tash merely closed the door and leaned her back against it, catching her breath.
"Ok, we've bought a little time, but Evexus sounded pretty keen to take me home with him, Loki. So have you got any more tricks up your sleeve to deal with him? He's too strong and fast to fight," she panted.
"To be perfectly honest sweet-cheeks, I’m plumb out of ideas," Loki replied frantically opening all the drawers he could find. "You know, I’m beginning to think that that we're not going to find anything here that can help us. Darian was never the sharpest tool in the shed, so I doubt he took precautions in case this happened."
The half fae continued looking for a little longer, until finally just giving up. "There's nothing here. The best we can hope for now is that he doesn’t find us until we can think of something." Loki paused for a second to rub his chin. "You know, since my rune was broken, I doubt the bosses would be mad if I just left now. I’m sure you'd be just fine if I left town now," Loki said, pleased with his idea.
Tash rolled her eyes. "Well, what else should I expect from a craven coward who has to resort to trickery and disguises? Ok, off you go. I'll make sure to give Evexus your regards when he gets here." She smiled evilly, "Of course, since I was the means for your getaway just now, you might just decide to stay out of a sense of obligation."
Loki's face dropped in disappointment - Tash made a good point. "Fine, fine, fine, I’ll stay and play pretend hero with you. Not like I have much of a choice," he mumbled to himself.
Loki walked over to the kitchen counter and propped himself up, allowing his legs to dangle rather child like. "So Tashy-kins, may I call you Tashy-kins?" He continued, ignoring his own question, "What do you plan to do about the big bad vampires if and when we get out of this predicament?"
Tash eyed Loki suspiciously. Despite his assistance tonight, she wasn't about to forget his past misdeeds. And ‘Tashy-kins’ was nigh unforgivable. "There are plans in place," was all she said before changing the subject. "What I'm more interested in is how we're going to survive Evexus. You know, maybe your idea to run off has some merit after all. His orders were to take me alive, so he won't dare hurt me much."
She pushed off from the wall and headed to the phone. "If I can contact the cavalry, maybe I should just go quietly with him after all," she mused.
She reached for the phone, but before she'd so much as heard the dial tone, a raven flew onto the balcony and transformed into Darian. *No, not Darian. Evexus,* Tash corrected herself. The fae's dark eyes glittered as he thrust open the balcony doors and strode into the room.
"How clever you must feel, human," Evexus hissed menacingly. "You think your modern weapons will work against us?!"
"UHHHHHGGGGGG," Loki cut in, "And I thought you were annoying when Darian was in charge of the body, but Jesus, you're even worse now. All you do is yap, yap, yap. Do you EVER shut up?"
Tash eyed Loki balefully, "Oh, I dunno. Seems he's in good company at the moment."
"Silence you dirty half-breed!" Evexus roared at Loki as he raised his hand. "Ryaaasssnaaa" he uttered in his ancient and mystic language. His invisible spell slammed into Loki, the force knocking him off the counter and into the kitchen.
"And as for you, woman…" The dark spirit twiddled his fingers, weaving magical strands around Tash. With a sudden jerk of his wrist, Tash went flying forwards, landing right into Evexus' waiting arms. "It’s a shame our master wants you," he purred, as he brought his face close to hers and smelt her hair. "We could have so much fun with you."
Tash recoiled from Evexus' touch. "You think so? I don't think you're man enough for me..."
During this time, Loki had managed to pick himself up and sneak up behind the fae. "Eww, what a perv!" he said as he kicked up, aiming for the back of his enemy’s head.
Evexus was too quick however. Releasing Tash, he ducked and spun backwards simultaneously, avoiding Loki's attack. In retaliation, Evexus pushed forwards with both palms. Although he barely made contact his hands were filled with elemental magic, and the second they reached Loki's stomach he released the electric spell. Loki cried in pain as tiny streams of blue lightening crawled over his body forming tiny spider web designs.
Knowing it was futile, nevertheless Tash leapt towards Evexus while he was distracted with Loki, slashing with her remaining knife. The other was still on the ground back where they'd first encountered the fae. For a moment Tash thought she'd connected, but Evexus merely slipped aside sinuously, letting the knife pass by his ribs, barely ruffling his shirt.
"Damn you, stay still!" Tash growled.
She spun around to try again, but Evexus was already waiting for her and grabbed her by her waist and hair and lifted her. She kicked wildly, trying to hurt him somehow, in any way she could. But he flung her away from him to crash into the kitchen wall and land heavily with a grunt on the floor. Tash clutched her ribs where she'd felt a sudden sharp pain. *Crap.*
"We grow weary of this game, and shall waste no more time with you whelps." Loki was still clutching at his stomach when Evexus turned his attention back on him. "You are expendable," he continued, hurtling more bolts of lightning.
Ignoring Loki's screams, he turned back to Tash. "Tiiiime toooo sllleeeep huuummmaaannnnn," his voice was melodious and angelic. Tash could feel her eyelids growing heavy, but as much as she fought, she knew she could not resist the spell for much longer.
Even as she succumbed to the spell's effects, Tash struggled to stay awake. Talking might help, maybe. "Just one question – what the hell is it with all this 'we' stuff anyway?"
Before the fae could answer a new voice cut through the room. "Evexus Drett! Desist this at once!"
Tash found herself able to think clearly once more, no longer wishing to sleep as Evexus whirled to face this newcomer. Tash's eyes widened when she recognised him.
Matthias stood in the balcony door, looking just as she remembered him the last time she'd seen him, so briefly, when he'd explained his exile in the Sidhe realms. She could hardly credit that he was here, now, in front of her. She glanced around to see Loki in case it was one of his tricks, but Loki still lay where Evexus had left him, twitches still afflicting his body.
"Evexus Drett, you know why I am here. I am Sidhe, and you have been deemed fit only for destruction," Matthias declaimed, sounding far more alien than Tash had ever heard him.
Evexus’ eyes flashed with hatred. "Sidhe!" he spat. "You fair born think that you can stop me? I’ll rip you to pieces like I will these cretins."
Matthias barely spared a glance at the two in the room with Evexus. One was Loki, the misfit who'd failed so miserably in his task and the other was... "Tash?" Matthias' eyes widened. But he couldn't allow himself to be distracted from Evexus. Give the dark fae the slightest quarter and he'd be gone, Matthias knew that. So he drew himself up, letting his faery nature shine through his human glamour.
Evexus launched a stream of magic towards him but Matthias countered it, diverting it to blast a hole in Darian's wall. Matthias announced again, "Evexus Drett, you are marked for destruction. No longer will you be merely bound, you shall cease to exist!"
"No!" Tash cried, leaping to her feet. "Matthias, you can't."
A frown marred the Sidhe's features as he stared at the girl who he'd raised as a daughter. "But Tash, you must sense his evil. I can do naught else. I have been charged with this task and I cannot - I dare not - fail in this."
Tash could feel there was much left unspoken there, but now was not the time. "But the host... he's a friend of mine. He's a good man. I know - he should have died of natural causes decades ago, and it's only Evexus' energy that keeps him alive. But Matthias, he's my friend. Please."
While Tash spoke, Evexus brought his hands close together as if cupping an invisible ball. Soft blue light began to swivel between his palms forming a tiny crystal. Evexus spoke another word of power and the diamond soared mercilessly towards Matthias. Before hitting its target, the mystical gem exploded into waves of icy energy, threatening to freeze all in the room. However, Matthias had expected such an attack and easily countered the spell with one of his own.
"Disgusting light fae,” Evexus hissed, “You are lucky we are not at our full strength while shackled in this human body, else you would no longer be breathing!"
Matthias let Evexus' threats and insults slide off him. He sought out the trees and plants nearby and rode their connection to Gaia, tapping into that massive source of his power. He grasped the glow from the stars and the moon and wove tendrils of light around the dark fae, holding him rooted to the spot and unable to move his arms. "There," Matthias smiled, "That will keep you out of harm's way for a while."
Tash gaped in amazement. She'd never really seen Matthias exert all his power before, since he'd hidden his true nature from her for all those years. Somehow just seeing him again made all the hurts of the past couple of weeks fade a little, though the biggest of those remained large and ugly in her psyche.
"You're here," she breathed, "But I thought you'd been forbidden to ever come back?"
Matthias' expression was sad. "I'm only here because they had a job for me, and once it's done I must go again. I'm sorry; I never expected to see you here. And neither did they, I'm sure."
Tash sighed, "And your 'job' is to kill my friend. Can't you just rebind him, Matthias?"
Matthias took that last step towards her and held out his arms. Tash rested her head on his shoulder, as she had whenever life had become too much for her as a frightened teen. Matthias' face was twisted in pain as he held his one-time student, his daughter, his friend once more. "For you, Tash, I will." *Let them damn me,* he thought, *I don't care.*
"Wow, now that was really heart warming ladies and gents," Loki commented finally, staggering to his feet. "But as much I’d love to watch you continue your Full House moment, I think it’s better that you get to doing whatever you've got planned for him, ‘cause it looks like he's working on a way to break free."
Tash sighed. "That's Loki," she said, "But I got the feeling you already know who he is. I'm sorry I ever met him, I'm sure." Though she had to admit, at least he'd saved her from being dragged off to the Brotherhood's lair. Then again, considering that was the information she was after, she wasn't sure it was such a service after all.
Matthias contemplated the struggling form of Evexus and had to agree with Loki’s assessment. "This will only take a few moments."
He stood before Evexus and laid his hands gently on either side of the fae's face. Tash saw the familiar warm glow begin to illuminate Matthias' hands, and it enveloped Evexus' head in a golden light. The dark fae hissed and cursed, but soon his body grew limp and Matthias held Darian gently in his arms as the young man's eyes fluttered.
Tash was relieved to note they were now their usual violet colour. She joined Matthias and rested her gloved hand on Darian's shoulder. "Darian?" she asked quietly, "Are you ok?"
Darian's head lifted slightly, just enough so Tash could make out the expression of utter depression on his face. "Why... why didn’t you let him kill me?"
Guest starring James Spader as Matthias
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, 16th October 2006 – 12:28am
Tash glanced up at Matthias' face, noting the exhaustion that showed now that his task was completed, as Darian's words echoed through her heart. "Darian, please don't say that," she pleaded, as much for her own sake as Darian's. If he could give up, in some way it would be permission for her to just curl up and die, too. She stroked his face gently as Matthias continued to hold him. "Darian, what did Evexus do?"
Darian did not even bother looking up in response. His body had no more energy, and his heart and soul were doing little to help. "Sebastian... he's dead," he said, barely above a whisper.
Although Tash expected Darian to break down in tears, not a single drop fell from his eyes. He was so distant from the world now, that he could feel nothing but utter emptiness. Over two centuries of hoping and striving had been snatched away by Dathan, and with that his will to live as well.
The feelings of despair that washed over her from Darian mirrored Tash's own feelings, and she found it hard not to be dragged down with them. Some light, some hope held her anchored to sanity, to reality, and it wasn't until she glanced down at her own arm that she realised Matthias had grasped her with his free hand. That warm, healing glow surged from him, into her and over her, mending her battered body and soothing away some of the pain and heartache. Some of her wounds ran deep, but it was just enough to bring her back from the edge of the abyss. Now, if only she could do the same for Darian.
“Darian, remember what you told me? That when you first lost Seb you felt as though you'd lost everything, but you found a way to go on? You said that to me to keep me strong in the face of my loss. Now I'm telling you - there's always a reason to stay."
Matthias knelt by Darian's listless body on one side, and gestured for Tash to do the same on the other side. They each clasped one of Darian's hands, and joined their own across his body. Matthias closed his eyes and used the dregs of his spent resources to bolster Darian’s flagging sprit.
"Please, Darian," Tash begged, "If you go, what does that mean for me? I've already lost a husband, and then a friend. Now do you want me to lose another?" She hoped that if sanity wouldn't prevail, maybe guilt would.
"Yeahhhhhhh, ok I think its best I get out of here," Loki interrupted as he made his way to the window Evexus had first come through. "Seems kinda like a mushy moment to me, and I don’t do well with all the touchy feely stuff. Catch you three on the flip." And with that, Loki jumped over the balcony.
Darian paid no notice to Loki, his mind so overwhelmed with other things. *Go on...* his brain hazily replayed Tash's words. "Why should I go on? Look what I am capable of, look at what I can become." His body shuddered under the touch of Matthias and Tash. "I had hope before, now I have nothing... Just the darkness inside me."
Tash squeezed the hand she held. "I'm so sorry you lost Seb, but remember it wasn't really your hand that did it. It was Evexus. And he's deep down, now. I know Matthias; his magic is strong. If you remember being Evexus, you'll know that." Tash remembered all too well her feelings of disgust and desolation when she'd killed Edwina White - a relative stranger - while under Vrithetek's control, and could only imagine that it must be ten times worse for Darian, who'd had to watch Evexus kill his best friend.
"Evexus? No, it wasn’t the fae." Now feeling began to trickle into the man's words. "It was one of the Elders, Dathan."
Darian's body became rigid as purpose once again began to flow through his veins. His soft violet eyes gleamed a darker purple. They did not signal the return of Evexus; his eyes shone from his own rage, his own hatred and darkness.
"I’m going back to Dathan," he said, breaking free from Matthias and Tash, "and I’m going to turn that son of a bitch into a pile of dust.”
"Dathan?" Tash breathed. Her mind whirled as she stood to stand before Darian. Maybe all wasn't lost after all. "No, don't go now. Remember I was telling you we had a plan for the Elders? It's coming soon. Two more weeks, Darian. It's virtually guaranteed to work," Tash exaggerated wildly, "but only if we know where they are. Can you remember where Evexus was? Do you know where the Brotherhood are? That's the best way to avenge Sebastian. We can kill them all for you. For him."
Matthias looked on mutely, recovering his strength, knowing that his time was short and wanting so much to use it with Tash, but content to simply watch her and feel the edges of her compassion for her friend. Her talk of going up against the Brotherhood worried him, though. He knew their capabilities and hoped that the rest of Tash's friends were more organised than they had been during the Cloch Cosan incident.
Tash had grasped Darian’s hand again and was gazing deep into his eyes. She felt the same sense of fear she was sure Kate must have felt when she guessed Tash might try to go it alone. “Please, Darian,” she exhorted. “If you go after them now it’s tantamount to suicide. And you know you won’t be able to defeat him alone. Let your actions count. Join the rest of us; help us defeat them all. Alone you’ll achieve nothing but a lonely grave. If you wait, you can see Dathan scattering in the wind.”
Darian's hands clenched into tight fists as he bit his lip, trying to hold back the torrent of emotions which threatened to pour forth. On one hand, everything in his heart and soul told him to rush off back to the Hyperion Hotel, but on the other, he knew Tash was right. Dathan had managed to kill Seb and transformed Darian into Evexus in less than ten seconds. He really had no chance alone. "So, what exactly do you have planned?"
Tash spoke carefully, knowing that Darian was on a delicate knife-edge right now and not wanting to tip him over. She decided it was safest to leave out all but the broadest details. “We’ve unearthed an old ritual, which apparently was developed as a response to Dathan’s ravages through South America. A friend of mine is a powerful sorcerer and will be able to perform the spell. The ingredients are being prepared and will be ready in a couple of weeks. But we don’t have the location of the vampires. That’s why I was out there.”
Tash leaned forward, sorrow and desperation mixing to make her voice hoarse. “I know you hurt, and you want revenge right now. But if you can tell me where they had Evexus – where they’re staying – then we can maybe defeat all of them. Please, Darian. You know if you go alone Dathan will simply repeat what he did to you. But with a group of us we can really make a difference.”
She stopped speaking, aware that if she kept going she’d fall into the old ‘rid the world of this evil’ rhetoric. For her part, she had been hoping to annihilate Valerian and bury at least one of her ghosts. But the others were no longer just abstract concepts to her now. One of them – Dathan – had hurt her friend.
Tash's words floated in Darian's cloudy mind as he tried to fully grasp the situation. Finally, his fists untightened slightly and his shoulders slouched in defeat. Despite all his anger and hatred, he had no choice but to listen to his friend. "I'll wait for you and your friends to be ready, Tash, but I swear when the time comes, Dathan is mine. And as for their location, I can remember everything I did when I was Evexus," he said shuddering. "The four Elders are based in the Hyperion Hotel."
After he finished speaking it finally occurred to him that they were not alone. The third one, the one who had actually trapped Evexus again, was standing next to him silently. "You, you're a fae. A real one," he commented, feeling the good rolling off the man.
Matthias turned his eyes away from Tash and regarded the young man before him. “I am Sidhe,” Matthias told him, “though my mother was human. But I am beholden to them, not the humans.”
He turned sad eyes back towards Tash, “Although it was not always so.”
His strength seemed to be replenishing after his ordeal with Evexus, and his eyes glittered as he regarded Darian once more. “As for you, you were an experiment that should never have occurred. The Sidhe are not best pleased with the continued existence of Evexus and they won’t be happy with what I’ve done here.”
“So what is to happen to me?" Darian replied coldly. He wasn't sure whether or not he wanted the Sidhe to come after him or not. "Am I to be hunted down by another of your kind?"
Tash looked at Matthias with wide eyes. “No, you can’t…” she whispered.
Matthias held up a hand, hushing her protests, and he smiled reassuringly at Darian. “Fear not. They won’t come after you. As I said, they don’t like to concern themselves – ourselves – with the affairs of humans. While Evexus was free he was a threat to us as much as to you, but now that he’s contained there will not be another sent for him. Not unless he is loosed again.”
"If ever he is set free, next time you can finish what you were sent here to do in the first place," Darian said. Although he knew that he should have nothing against this man, he couldn’t help but feel that Matthias had brought him back from the brink of sweet oblivion, brought him back to this world of infinite hurt.
Tash felt herself spiralling back down, Darian’s feelings of emptiness mirroring her own in a kind of feedback. But Matthias was there. He could help. She turned to him, to her friend and mentor, and grasped his hand fervently. “Matthias, so much has happened since you left. Victor’s… Victor’s dead. And the Brotherhood are all here, and…”
“Hush, Tash,” Matthias said sadly, “I can’t stay. I wish I could – I want to. You have so many hurts to heal. But they were watching me. They know what I’ve done here and they’re pulling me back to answer for it.” His form began to waver as though Tash were seeing him through a heat haze. His face grew panicked. “I don’t have much time, Tash. I lov-“
And he vanished.
Tash stood silently, staring at the space where for a few brief minutes her second father had been. All animation had gone from her features, all her energy expended on keeping Darian anchored in the here and now. She turned to him and saw her own grief echoed in his face. But then Darian’s face set in hardness and he said, “I need to be alone for a while. I’m sorry, but please…”
“Are you sure? Maybe you shouldn’t really be alone?” she asked.
“Please, Tash,” Darian’s voice almost cracked. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but please leave me alone right now.”
Tash nodded silently, hardly registering anything beyond loss compounded on loss. Shoulders slumped, she walked out of the building and straddled her bike, sitting quietly for a moment before revving the engine and riding away. To where, she neither knew nor cared.
From his balcony, the half fae watched as Tash drove off into the distance. He was happy he had a friend like her, someone who actually knew what he was going through, someone who would understand what he had to do. *I’m sorry, Tash. I know I told you I would wait, but I can’t.*
Without a sound, Darian leapt from his balcony to the deserted street below and headed off to the Hyperion Hotel.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, 16th October 2006 – 7:25am
Morning crowds jostled Tash as she approached Bibliophile. Despite the seedy location, it now attracted a number of office workers and college students who stopped in for coffee and breakfast before they left for work or school. Across the street on one corner stood Bob’s Bar, looking subdued in the early light of day. On the opposite corner was XY, Jade’s shop. Tash stared at the shuttered shop frontage for some time, wondering how all this was affecting Jade. Sorrow had closed right down when he’d mentioned her last week and Tash added it as one more worry to her growing pile of concerns.
Sorrow. That was why she was here. She berated herself for her lapse into reverie, though a night of no sleep hadn’t done much for her concentration, especially after last night’s traumatic events. She inhaled deeply as if preparing for a deep dive and pushed her own way through the morass of humanity that filled Bibliophile’s interior, trying to catch a glimpse of Daye.
Daye stood beside a table full of boisterous jock types from the nearby college. They were regulars who came in at least four mornings a week for coffee and usually something sweet to go along with it. They were loud and somewhat obnoxious, but fairly harmless as customers went. One of the boys, a burly football type with mischievous green eyes was constantly asking her to go out with him. Even having told him she was involved and had recently become a mother did little to discourage his amorous intentions.
Daye tried to smile despite her annoyance, when the doorbell chimed and one of the other boys snickered and elbowed Daye's ‘paramour’. "Look at her," the other boy said. "I'd like a dip in that chocolate."
Daye frowned in disgust and turned her head to look at the door, only to find that she knew ‘that chocolate’ very well. Daye turned completely around and began to walk away from the table, ignoring the boys’ groans of protest.
"They can go load carbs and trade grunts somewhere else," she snapped at Joan, one of her waitresses, as she passed her on the way to the door. Joan nodded, proud of Ms. Blaise for finally standing up to the Neanderthals.
Daye approached Tash with a warm smile on her face. The other woman looked the worse for wear. She looked tired, bone deep, soul weary. Daye's heart went out to her. When Kate had told her about Victor, Daye had known Tash was probably a wreck. It was amazing the other woman was coping this well.
"Tash," Daye said when she got to her friend, "Come on, we'll go to my office."
The smile Tash returned to Daye was brittle. “Thanks, I’d appreciate the quiet,” she said.
She followed Daye into the back office where she sank gratefully into a chair while Daye closed the door behind them. Moments later, it seemed, Daye was pressing a warm mug of coffee into her hands and she sipped at it while letting the aromatic steam waft over her face.
Without preamble Tash spilled her news, her tone dull and flat. “I know where the Brotherhood are.”
Daye's eyes widened in shock and then immediately narrowed in angry suspicion. "Don't tell me you've been out looking for them on your own." There was an unstated "young lady!" in her tone.
“No! Well, yes… but I didn’t walk in on them or anything. Well, I almost… I didn’t go with him, but I would have, but I didn’t have to…” Tash faltered to a stop, aware that her garbled explanation wasn’t really helping matters.
She drew a deep breath, took a gulp of hot coffee and began again. “I was laying low, checking out West Hollywood – an area I had reason to believe is the only major concentration of vampire activity left in Los Angeles. I was being careful, really. I know what Kate thought, and I wasn’t… well, ok I may have considered going it alone, but not for long. Not really. And I wasn’t.”
Daye’s face reminded Tash of her mother when, as a child, she’d been caught doing something she knew she shouldn’t have been. “Really, Daye. I was being careful. So damn careful I’d not really learned anything useful yet. But then it kind of fell into my lap.”
Daye's face was thunderous. "Tash, you must realize how dangerous even going out there alone was," she said. "The entire Brotherhood is here, in Los Angeles, and Valerian at the very least knows who and what you are. Not to mention that they've all gained a tremendous amount of power lately. You could have been hurt or... killed."
Daye stopped dead, suddenly reminded of all that Tash was going through. She remembered the last time Tash had come close to losing Victor. Daye remembered all too clearly finding Tash battered and bruised on the steps of the brownstone. Back then, Tash had been reckless and out of control, and Victor had only gone into hiding. How was the other woman going to hold up knowing that the man she loved was gone forever?
"I'm sorry," Daye said softly. "I didn't... I don't... I'm so sorry."
Tash concentrated on the warm liquid in the cup before her. She heard Daye’s voice change, and knew that if she looked into those sympathetic eyes she’d just start crying again. And she didn’t have time. Not now.
“I know, they’re all bigger and badder than ever. And it wasn’t Valerian…” Tash paused. Something last night caught at her memory. ”…our master’s ally wishes to have you alive…” Speaking slower, she said, “Well, maybe it was. The creature was Dathan’s but he may have been working under Valerian’s orders.”
Finally glancing up, Tash saw the puzzlement in Daye’s eyes. “I know, I’m not making much sense, am I? Ok, a creature,” Tash figured the full details of who it had been last night didn’t need to be revealed just yet, “came to get me for his ‘master’s ally’. Then he let slip that his master was Dathan. There was someone else there who helped me,” Tash started to tear up again at the memory of Matthias’ soothing presence, torn from her once more by the Sidhe, but she pushed on, “and we managed to defeat the creature, but not before I learned that Dathan is staying at the Hyperion Hotel. You know, that old run-down place on Wilshire?”
Tash had left a great deal out of that tale, but she was still sorting through most of the previous night’s events herself, and didn’t have time to sift through it with her friends. The Brotherhood’s location was far more important. “What I really need is to make sure Sorrow gets this information. You do have a way to contact him, don’t you?”
Daye nodded. She reached into her desk and pulled out a slip of paper. It was the address that Sorrow had given her to use as a drop point for information in case they needed to contact him. All things considered, it was about time she used it. "This is supposed to be a safe place to leave him a message," Daye replied. "He'll get in touch with you once he gets it."
Tash took the paper and checked the address on it. "Good. Had anyone seen or heard from him lately? Maybe instead of leaving the information, I should try to meet with him - make sure he's ok." She looked up at Daye. "And let Kate know, of course. We may have one or two extra people there when the time comes. A friend of mine has good cause to hate Dathan, and I promised him he could be there for the end. Besides, we'll need all the muscle we can get, right?"
Daye's countenance grew stormy. The mention of aid reminded her of what the Council had said. They were on their own here, facing The Brotherhood and a turned Slayer, and worse than that, Delancre and his cronies had expected she and Jessica and Alicia to turn tail and run. Fat chance of that happening!
“I don't know when Sorrow actually last saw any of us, so maybe you should try and meet with him," Daye replied. "As for the rest, as many people as we can muster would be appreciated. We are up against a lot here."
Daye paused. She'd been thinking a lot about what was coming, and particularly about something that would probably have to be done. "You realize, although I don't know if Jessie does at this point, that we are going to have to slay Ellie?" Daye said. "I don't know if that has really sunk in for her yet. Hell, I have a big problem with it myself, and I only met the poor girl a few times. It's hard for a Watcher to consider such a thing."
She muttered under her breath, "Not that I much feel like a Watcher these days."
Tash's face remained impassive. "Yeah, I did see Sorrow just over a week ago, and he said the same thing." She herself had no problem with staking any vampire, no matter who they’d been before they were killed. The body was dead, simply a host for a demon.
Then she blinked. Even through her mind-numbing fatigue - of both body and soul - she wondered why Daye's expression had grown so dark. At first she’d thought maybe Daye didn't like the idea of Darian's help, but that obviously wasn't it. Was it to do with her last, half-heard comment?
"What's wrong, Daye?" Tash reached across the desk to clasp the woman’s hand. "Is there a problem with the Watchers?"
Daye laughed bitterly. "A problem?" she repeated. "Well, I suppose that depends on your point of view. I can promise you they won't be interfering in this, at least."
"Ah, I see," Tash replied. "No Watcher buddies to help us out of our impending doom, then. Well, who needs them?" Tash sat upright and spoke with unfelt bravado. "We're tough, we've got powerful witches on our side. How can we fail?"
"Actually, it's worse than that," Daye replied, thinking of what she'd been ordered to do last month. "They want us to leave Los Angeles. They ordered Jessie, Alicia, and myself to return to England. All the Watchers have been evacuated from the area." Daye was obviously infuriated by what she'd just said.
Tash leaned forward, determination showing through the tiredness in her eyes. "Daye," she said slowly, "repeat after me. Fuck. Them."
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, 16th October 2006 – 1:50pm
Giant demonic forms chased her across a crazy streetscape, where burnt-out cars sat next to G’rnathan Monitors along Santa Monica Boulevard. The demon’s glowing red eyes turned black as it laid a hand on her and hissed menacingly, “We want to take you back to our master, little girl.”
Tash looked behind Darian to see who his master was. “Victor?” she mumbled at the sight of her lover and husband advancing behind the dark fae. She smiled – he’d come to save her from Evexus. But Victor’s face twisted in pain and he fell. Behind him stood Matthias, a bloody sword in his hand.
Tash screamed and turned away, only to come face to face with her mother. Blood ran in rivulets down her mother’s body from her torn throat and she whispered huskily, “Why did you kill me, Tash? Why did you kill us?” Her mother gestured to Patrick, who stood by her side with a hole in his heart.
Her mother’s voice gradually changed, grew deeper. “Why did you kill us? Why, lady? Lady? Sorry, miss, you can’t sleep here…”
Tash dragged herself from her nightmare, chagrined to find she’d dozed off while sitting at a booth in the El Pollo Loco. She absently wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and smiled apologetically at the bussboy who’d woken her.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I think I’ll get a refill on my coffee.”
Tash sat up and glanced at the clock. Nearly 2pm – at least she’d not slept long. Maybe fifteen minutes at most. Her body cried out for rest, but she couldn’t sleep. Not yet. And she knew what horrors awaited her when she did finally succumb.
She hoped that Sorrow had got her note this morning. She’d tried to make it cryptic, in case eyes other than his read the message. Out the window she could see the church where she’d inadvertently led Jade last year when Sorrow had been sinking into darkness, and trusted that he would remember all too well.
*Uncle's new address?* Sorrow scanned the rest of Tash's note and when the location she wished to 'pray' at made its way into his consciousness he grimaced. The memories rose up unbidden in his mind. The pain, the anger, the horror of his demon rising up to take his body... the aching pleasure of Jade's fangs in his throat. Sorrow's hand closed into a fist, crushing the note between his fingers.
*Not the most auspicious of places to meet, Tash. Well, we can move on I suppose.* He walked away from the drop and hailed a cab. His new car was still parked behind Poplar Avenue where it would probably remain till this whole mess was over.
Hot coffee scalded its way into Tash's gullet, invigorating her somewhat. She concentrated on the view out the window, keeping her mind focused on the here and now. As Sorrow had told her last week, she didn't have time to grieve. Not until all this was over. Movement caught her eye - a flash of black. But it was simply a young executive walking briskly up the road with his coat floating behind. She turned her attention back to her coffee for a moment and when she looked out the window once more she felt a jolt of recognition.
The figure emerging from the cab was unmistakeably Sorrow, even though she couldn't see his face. The black clothing, complete with long coat. The bearing. If she squinted her eyes she could almost make out the slight bulge that was Hizashi in its sheath on his back. She watched as the figure gazed at the church for a long, long moment before moving towards it. Her heart ached to see him like this, but she pushed it down with all her other hurts and concentrated on the task at hand; pass on the news, and make sure he was still up to the approaching battle.
She gulped down her remaining coffee and left a generous tip on the table. Steadily she made her way out of the El Pollo Loco and waited on the corner for the light to change so she could cross the busy road. Soon she found herself entering the church's cool, peaceful interior. Although she couldn't see him at first, while her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she could sense his presence.
“How are you?" she spoke softly into the gloom.
Sorrow lit a votive candle and placed it in its holder. "I've been better. You?" It was a voice that had been hollowed out, left empty, bereft. He turned bloodshot eyes to her as he reached up and ran a hand over the two days’ growth of his beard.
The light from the candle flickered over Sorrow's face, almost making it seem demonic. If he'd looked like he'd been in a war when she'd seen him at her apartment, now he looked like he'd been in hell. Though she suspected she looked little better. She answered in a voice that held no more life than Sorrow's. "Yeah, I've had better times too."
She'd been watching this church since early morning, just after she'd dropped off the note, and had seen nobody enter. But to be safe she cast out her senses, testing for any other presence. Satisfied they were alone, she turned to Sorrow and stated baldly, "Last night I learned where they're staying. The Hyperion on Wilshire."
He nodded distractedly while his eyes wandered around the shadowed interior before finally returning to look at Tash. "Could we find another church?"
Sadness filled Tash's face. She also remembered the last time they'd been in this church, and the memories weren't pleasant. "Sure," she smiled wanly. "I've got my bike. Anywhere you want."
He started to move to the door and she placed her hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "Sorrow," she began, and he looked at her, waiting for her to continue. But the words refused to rise and she just shook her head and turned silently to lead the way out of the church.
They stood in the car park of El Pollo Loco, Tash settled onto the bike just as Sorrow touched her shoulder. "Is there really anything else?"
Tash shook her head, "There's nothing." Then she looked over her shoulder at the shattered man behind her, "And there's everything. You're the key to our plan, Sorrow. I need to know you're ok for what's coming. And..." Tash sighed, unable to keep it all businesslike despite her best efforts, "and I care about you, so yes, I want to know you're ok for that reason, too.
"Ok, have you eaten?" He was ready for what was to come, but his appearance probably didn't inspire confidence right now. "I'm not mad about chicken and fast food was never really my thing either but..."
Tash thought about the chicken platter she'd ordered and then left to grow cold on the table, unable to stomach the thought of eating it. "Depends," she answered, "Does coffee count as food?"
"Only negative water." Sorrow closed his eyes and the faintest of smiles crossed his lips. "We're a pair aren't we?"
He sat on Tash's bike and spoke quietly, "Food first, and while we're at it I can convince you that I'm your sorcerer."
Tash ordered a quesadilla from the drive through window, while Sorrow asked for a burrito. "So, where do you want to take these?" she asked him. "You suggested another church - any in particular? Or should we just drive down to Venice Beach?"
"Venice sounds good. Lots of sunlight is probably as good as a church and..." *It's not like much really needs to be said.* Half an hour later found Tash parking the bike and Sorrow looking less than forlornly at a cold burrito.
They found a picnic table on the grassy verge away from most of the vendor's stalls that lined the beachfront and claimed it for their own. Tash laid out her quesadilla and stared at it impassively, not knowing where to begin. Dimly she was aware of Sorrow sitting opposite her, ignoring his own lunch.
She lifted her eyes to meet his. "I had so many questions I wanted to ask you when I saw you, Sorrow," she began, "But now I can't find the words any more. Have you... Have you been all right? I worry about you out here alone. It's just like when Xavier was after Victor and he..." she dipped her eyes, "he went off alone then, too."
Before Sorrow could reply she answered herself, "I know, I know. It's safest this way. I understand. I just... I worry, is all."
Sorrow started picking at his food, not even attempting to eat. She'd asked, but really how could he share his own burdens? She'd lost her soul mate. The man who had made her whole. Victor was gone from her forever and Sorrow had an inkling of how that felt, yet Jade wasn't gone from him. No. He could have her back – all it would take was a slide into darkness, all he had to do was damn the whole world and he could have her back.
"It's not been easy, and I wasn't totally alone..." There, an opening. She'd follow it, of course. Despite all the pain she'd follow it and despite himself he'd let her. All his good intentions drowned in pain. Just like the rest of him.
Tash frowned. Some instinct told her that she was treading on dangerous ground. But the ground beneath Sorrow had always been treacherous. And now, more than ever, it was vital that he have a solid foundation, even if it meant she had to dig under him first.
"Not alone?" She let the phrase hang.
*Ah, nothing is ever easy. You used to better at this, Tash. Pain dulls the finest of us, I guess.* "Seen Jade recently?"
Sorrow lapsed back into silence. He'd grabbed that chink and ripped it open and any second now he'd be a wreck sobbing on the ground. And something vindictive rose in his breast, something that wanted to scream 'See! I hurt too! You're not the only one in pain! I've lost!' He buried it, quenched that anger like he'd quenched love two nights before and let silence hang between them.
Tash flinched as though she'd been struck a solid blow. Despite the dullness brought on by physical and emotional exhaustion and despite Sorrow's usually impeccable shields, she felt the pain and the anger - some of it directed at her, but mostly directed at himself. And finally it clicked. The hints Sorrow had dropped in her flat. She felt the blood drain from her face and she reached out to grasp Sorrow's hand.
"No... They took Jade? Valerian... he got what he wanted, you said. And Evexus... that's why he..." Pain crumpled Tash's face. Some of it was for herself, at losing Jade in this way, but most of it was for Sorrow. "Oh, God. Tell me I'm wrong. Please."
"Took her?" *That's it, another straw... another stone. Can't you leave her that hope? No, instead you'll heap all the pain on her.*
"No, she went willingly. For me." There it was, the heart of the matter. The core of his pain. Oh, it was a dark love twisted by evil but it was love. It may have matched her own dark needs but Jade truly believed what she was doing was for the best.
Tash kept her hold on Sorrow's hand but bowed her head, unable to look into his pain-filled eyes any longer. "And that's why Valerian is protecting you," she murmured. "Oh, Sorrow..."
As had happened with Daye earlier that morning, Tash knew that the sympathy and pain in her own voice would only propel Sorrow over the edge of his own abyss. But unlike this morning when she'd been able to hold herself together, now she no longer cared. She'd held it all in for too long.
Victor. Kolya. Darian. Matthias. Now Jade. She moved across to sit next to Sorrow, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. She wanted to offer words of hope, that Jade might come back. But they both knew she wouldn't. And in two weeks Sorrow would go to the Hyperion to destroy them all, including the woman he loved. The one who had sacrificed her soul, albeit willingly, to save his life. There were no words that could make any of it go away. Nothing could make it better.
A tear splashed onto Sorrow's shoulder and Tash watched it darken the black material even further. "Oh, Sorrow," she repeated, unable to find anything else to say.
And he sobbed, he sobbed like a child who only knows they hurt but can't understand why and through the pain he tried to speak. "Sh-She still w-wants me, Tash..." He couldn't go on. The pain welled up from the depths of his soul; endless, it inundated him.
She held him then, rocked him gently back and forth, adding her own heart wrenching sobs to his. "Sshhh," she soothed inanely, barely able to make the sound through the tightness in her throat.
Slowly his sobs eased, not because the pain was any less but because in the end you can only cry so much. "I still love her... Even Friday night I loved her. There was evil clinging to her like tar and I wanted her. I wanted to just fall into her arms to go with her...To go home... Wherever she is, Tash, that's home and I don't care what she's become. I asked if she fed and she said no but she will, she’ll kill and she'll feed and I said I'd kill her if we met again but I won't, I can't. A smile, that's all it'd take. There's nothing left, what do I do?"
He clung to Tash. Though the tears had passed, the pain had not gone and he took what comfort in her presence that he could.
Tash had to take a moment to quell the fresh tears that rose at the words that tumbled from Sorrow. "I know, I know," she whispered. "I don't know if I'd have had the strength to do what you did. To turn her down like that. But you know that right now the world's resting on your shoulders. It's an unfair burden and I wish it wasn't on you, especially now. I'm so sorry." She stroked his hair, soothing him as you would a hurt child. "I wish I could make it better. I wish a lot of things were back the way they once were. But we can't do that."
She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle yet another sob that rose unbidden from her throat, then she placed her hands either side of Sorrow's face, cradling it and forcing him to look at her. "You were tough with me last week. All I wanted was to cry for Victor, but you wouldn't let me. Now it's my turn. You've cried for Jade and now you have to move on. Too much rides on you. We need your strength and your commitment to this. If you falter at the end because of her, we're all doomed. I wish it could be any other way."
She hated to let go of Jade so easily, though. She couldn't. Jade was her friend, and Tash couldn't just abandon her. "Maybe we can get her out. Before the end. Maybe if Valerian is gone, she'll return to something like she was before?"
"You’re right, I can't afford to do this..." Sorrow dashed the tears from his eyes and pulled away from her. *Sorrow I call myself, Sorrow I will become.*
"I don't think there's a way back from this. It's not just Valerian. Every time a Slayer died her vampire side became stronger. Even if we do get her away from him, what then? Even as vampire I never killed. She might not have fed yet but in two weeks’ time, after I rejected her? After I spoke to her as a demon inhabiting Jade's corpse? No false hopes. She has chosen darkness and it was a choice. She's gone... time to move on." Sorrow wondered how convincing that speech really was. Not that it mattered; he had to believe it. He could mourn later.
Tash's heart broke once more, as it had so many times already these past couple of weeks. "Oh, Sorrow," was all she could say.
She rested her head on his shoulder and together they watched the ocean lapping at the sandy beach. Silence stretched out between them for a long time until Tash said quietly, "I miss him."
Sorrow wrapped his arms around her. "I know."
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, October 16th, 2:13 am
The Hyperion Hotel - the headquarters of the Elders in LA, the place where Darian would find the monster he was looking for. He walked with purpose towards its ominous doors, knowing full well that his mission was pretty much suicide. He stood little chance of defeating Dathan, but he had to try, there was no alternative. Without hesitating he pushed open the heavy gateway and marched into the main lobby. A variety of vampires adorned the room, some barely over 50, while others were probably as old as Darian. Most of the heads in the room turned to eye the fae suspiciously, but not a single one made a move towards him. Being the servant of Dathan inspired enough fear and respect to allow him to move about the grounds unbothered. Pausing a moment, he debated whether he should go through with his plan or just start attacking every bloodsucker he could get his hands on until Dathan showed himself. As much as he craved for the second option, he knew that he would most likely be outnumbered long before the Elder would even interfere. *Best to stick with the plan.*
Lingering a moment in the grand entrance Darian steadied himself, trying to contain his anger. *He won't believe you if you look the least bit suspicious,* he thought to himself as he tried his best to mimic the characteristics of Evexus. Once he was satisfied with the state of his being, Darian called out to his former master.
“Lord Dathan, your servant has returned to you!”
The only reaction he got was an assortment of murmurs from the vamps in the room. He waited, wondering if the massive Ancient had heard him.
“Lord Dath-”
“I am in my chambers, faery,” Dathan’s booming voice interrupted, coming somewhere from his left.
Darian turned to see the fresh corpse of a middle aged man standing awkwardly in the threshold of another corridor, his decaying body kept upright by dark magic.
Johnson, Dathan’s mouthpiece, spoke once more. “Come to me servant, I am awaiting your report.”
*Perfect,* Darian thought as he ascended the winding staircase, distancing himself from the monsters in the lobby. Soon he would be alone with Dathan, and there would be no one to interfere when Darian exacted his revenge.
“You return empty handed?” Dathan commented as Darian entered his luxurious personal suite. The vampire was disappointed that his servant had failed, but could not help being somewhat pleased; the thought of Valerian’s face when he found out he would not be getting what he wanted was delicious.
“We were attacked by another fae who attempted to imprison us once more in the disgusting human shell,” Darian began, faking Evexus’ strange speaking pattern. “Luckily we managed to escape before he could take away your loyal servant my lord.”
The enormous brute eyed Darian up and down, as his lips tightened into a slight frown. “Why is it I sense almost no magic coming from you, slave? There is something different.”
At first Darian was taken off guard, but luckily his mind formulated a plausible excuse. “We expended much of our magics trying to defeat our enemies.” He kept it short and simple, not wanting to get into details. His knowledge of the arcane was limited, and he knew that staying on the subject would surely reveal his ruse.
Dathan’s doubtful look did not inspire confidence in the fae. *He is on to me.*
To his relief, Dathan seemed to finally accept the excuse and moved on to other things. “Valerian will not be happy with your failure, you realize.”
“I… we,” he quickly corrected himself, “are not concerned with the desires of your ally, we exist only to serve you, my lord.”
Darian swore he could see Dathan smile for a second. *For a brotherhood, they sure aren’t a close knit pack.*
“That is right; you serve me and me alone. We have no more to discuss this evening, fae,” the Ancient said, turning his back on Darian. “I will call on you when I have need of you again.”
This was it, the moment he had waited for. Silently retrieving a stake from his coat pocket, he lifted it slowly with one hand. *This is where you die, you son of a bitch.*
The wooden spike flew through the air, directly in line with the monster's back. For a fleeting moment, Darian thought the weapon would actually lodge itself into Dathan’s heart. But sure enough, at the last second, the vampire spun around, batting the stake harmless away.
“HOW DARE YOU?” he boomed, “You arrogant gnat!”
Darian’s eyes glowed softly as he began to reach out to the air in the room. Having Evexus take over his body was definitely horrible, but it did have one benefit: He now had a rough idea how to work the faery’s elemental magic, and right now what he lacked in skill he made up for in determination.
“You fucking monster!” Darian screamed as he commanded the air to whirl about the suite. “You think that I would let you get away with killing him? I swear to God, I’m going to watch you become dust in the wind.”
Now the air spun viciously causing the furniture to dislodge and fly about the room. Dathan, however, stood like an unmoving goliath, unaffected by the small hurricane.
“Don’t swear to God, boy. He will not be able to help you now,” Dathan replied as he strode forward.
Darian met the vampire head on, unleashing a barrage of blows with lightning speed, but each one the vampire countered with ease.
“And so the human is back in the driver’s seat, and come to me on a quest of vengeance, how noble. But I’m afraid, whelp,” he roared as his massive hand shot out and wrapped itself around Darian’s neck, “that you will never have the opportunity to get revenge. I will bring back your better half, and once again you will bow at my feet.”
Dathan extended his magic into Darian’s being, hoping to fish out Evexus, but this time, things weren’t so easy.
“Why can’t I release him?” the ancient hissed, increasing his vice-like grip.
“Because he was put away for good!”
Concentrating with all his might, the fae charged his body with electrical energy and released it mercilessly on the vampire. For once, something finally affected him. Dathan’s grip fell away as the sheer energy forced him several feet back.
“So the insect is capable of stinging,” Dathan mocked.
“I’m capable of a whole hell of a lot more!” Darian snarled as he released his magic once more. A bolt of lightening arced from every outlet in the room, and jetted towards Dathan. This time, however, the demon was prepared and with a wave of his hand the energy dissipated, and the bolts fizzled into nothingness.
Using all this new found power was taking its toll on Darian. He did not know how to properly wield the fae’s magic, and even if he did, he was using far more energy than one should. But he didn’t care, even if he died of exhaustion, he needed to know that he had done everything he could.
“So someone has managed to lock away your darkness from me!” Dathan raised his hand, and pointed his index finger at his enemy. As the Elder released his spell, Darian’s body began to stiffen, as his muscles and joints locked into place. “I could turn you into one of my vampiric minions right now you pathetic upstart. Or,” he continued, walking up so he was right in front of the helpless man, “I could rip your limbs slowly from your body. But fear not," he said bending down so his face was level with Darian’s, “I plan on keeping you alive long enough to break the spell that binds your other side."
“Go fuck yourself!” Darian spat in his face.
“You will learn not to defy your master,” Dathan laughed as he slowly called to the human blood flowing through Darian’s veins. Gently, the crimson liquid began to leak from his eyes, nose, mouth and ears, and floated eerily towards Dathan’s awaiting tongue.
“I'll rot in hell before I ever bow down to you again,” Darian managed to cough out, choking on the blood in his throat.
“Dear boy, you are in hell.”
The Change (Part 1)
Monday, 16th October 2006 - 1am
"Slowly, my dear," Valerian used his free hand and traced the delicate line of his daughter's face. "This is not a process to be hurried. Savour it..." The vampire's words trailed off to a hiss as Jade sank her fangs even deeper into his left wrist, drawing deeply of the nectar that had become her sustenance since she returned to his side. Long moments passed before anything further was said.
When Valerian finally judged her replete, he withdrew his arm. "That is enough for tonight, my flower. There is much else to discuss before the night is over."
Cheeks and eyes aglow with the rush her nightly feedings provided, Jade nodded but said nothing. She had become familiar with her father's theatrical way of playing out a conversation to its climax and knew that keeping silent was usually the fastest way to get Valerian to reveal what was it he wished to say.
Truth be known, the last thing Jade wished to do was lounge around talking. Power pulsed in every fibre of her being, just waiting for an outlet. The frustration she felt at Valerian's refusal to let her act on it had grown as quickly as her power had multiplied. She was not ready. These things could not be hurried. Everything comes to she who waits. Night after night, Jade asked him to enlighten her further on what role she was to play in the future, and night after night Valerian placated her with murmured promises before ignoring her requests.
*Let's hope tonight's agenda compromises of something different.* Mentally crossing her fingers, Jade rested her head on the Elder vampire's broad shoulder and waited. She was not disappointed.
"You've made great progress these past two weeks, daughter." Valerian tilted his head down to bestow a satisfied smile at Jade. "The Slayers' deaths strengthened the foundation for your power, as have our nightly tete-a-tetes..."
*Let's not forget the endless hours of physical and mental training.* Jade sighed, thinking about all the time and effort she had dedicated to perfecting her body and mind. The rewards were self-evident but there were times when she'd felt like screaming from the continuous strain of it all. Hour after hour... Fencing, magical research, weaponry training... The list had been endless and her taskmasters harsh. *And Ellie thought she had it bad,* Jade sniffed contemptuously; her training had been very similar to that of the Slayer. *At least she had more time to absorb everything. I ended up signing on for the 'Express Course'.*
"In which you have performed brilliantly, exceeding even my high expectations." Easily reading Jade's thoughts, the vampire's smile turned slightly mocking. "But of course, you are of my flesh and blood. I would have expected nothing less than perfection."
Valerian's expression turned serious and he gently pushed Jade back. "I have spoken to you before of our plans."
Jade nodded, hiding her amusement at the slight sneer on Valerian's face when he said "our". The time she had spent with her father and 'uncles' had shed little light on the relationship Valerian shared with his fellow Elders. There seemed to be a very strong bond, one that was a labryinth of complications but a bond nonetheless. Yet, each of them appeared to detest the others, hence the mounting tension within the Hyperion.
"Your returning to my side was unexpected. But the timing has proven to be perfect for what we are doing." The Elder vampire withdrew a small, slender box from a nearby chest of drawers and handed it to Jade. She ran a hand over the cover before glancing at Valerian. At his nod, Jade opened the box and studied the stone nestled within a piece of silk. It was fashioned in the silhouette of a woman, with tiny symbols etched at the curve of her breast and seemed to glow from within with an unholy light.
Mesmerized by its beauty, Jade carefully extricated the stone from its bed of silk. She held the stone up, so that it was further illumiated by the dim lights of the room, trying to read the carvings that decorated its side.
Greek. Jade had seen enough ancient scrolls and magical texts to identify the language. Her abilities, however, did not stretch to being able to read it.
"Beautiful, is it not?" Valerian raised a hand just as Jade opened her mouth to begin a tirade of questions, signalling for her to wait. "It was worn as a pendant, although you may desire to carry it on you differently. How you wear it is of no consequence. What matters is that you have it on your person..." Valerian reached out to stroke his daughter's hair. "Its power will aid you in attaining your fullest potential as we move on to the next step of your training."
Jade turned her head and pressed her lips to Valerian's palm before placing the stone back into its box. "Thank you daddy. I've always adored jewellery that does more than accessorize." She fingered the delicate charm bracelet on her wrist. "But you still haven't told me what exactly am I in training for?"
"Such impatience my flower... Such ire... Although I guess your emotions are warranted." The vampire smiled indulgently. "Very well. The purpose of these last few weeks was to groom you for the day that you stand at the pinnacle of the world we are creating," Valerian ran a manicured finger over the statue's word carvings, "the day that you become what the ancient Greeks called Brykolakas Basilissa."
Brykolakas Basilissa... Jade closed her eyes, trying to recall. She had come across it before... *Just can't remember what it stands f..." Jade gasped as the implications of the name hit her.
Brykolakas Basilissa.
Queen of Nightwalkers.
The Change (Part 2)
Monday, 16th October 2006 - 1.50am
Jade lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply as she gazed unseeingly out her room window. Valerian had left a few minutes before which meant that she was alone, something she was grateful for. She desperately needed some peace and quiet to absorb everything her father had just told her.
Brykolakas Basilissa. Queen of Nightwalkers. Jade sank down onto a threadbare chaise lounge and stared at the slender grecian statue on the table before it as she pondered over Valerian's words.
"The ancient one who wore this was affectionately known as Mana, or Mother. She was a young queen while human and upon her embrace became one of the most powerful nightwalkers ever to walk this earth. It is said that she turned thousands in a matter of days, creating what became known as the 'vampyre kingdom', thus explaining her title despite the fact that our kind has never had an actual monachy."
Jade had already known this from her own studies. It was almost laughable to think about it. Many books on vampire lore included information on Mana but every thing Jade had read had passed the story off as nothing more than fiction.
"An adept practiser of dark magic, Mana created a statue in her likeness, infusing it with the core of her abilities. This she gave to her mate, as a symbol of her affection and to merge her powers with his. He later betrayed and killed her before mysteriously disappearing with the statue, which has not been seen since."
*Not till now at least.* Jade frowned. Valerian had been obstinately vague about how the Brotherhood had obtained the statue. Instead, he had directed the conversation towards her.
"Do you understand what this means, daughter? With the statue in your possession, you will soon command the power of Mana. You will become the next Brykolakas Basilissa, with all of our kind and the world at your feet."
"But... But why?" Jade had not been able to understand why her father, Nicholas, Krispin and Dathan would want to relinquish the position after all the effort they had put into their joint 'venture'.
"Because you and you alone, my flower, share all of our strengths and none of our weaknesses. Once your powers are combined with that from statue of Mana, you will also be one of the most powerful beings on this earth... Do not look so apprehensive, Jadyn. I do not mean for you to do this on your own. The Brotherhood will guide you along the way, of course."
The meaning behind what was being said was not lost on Jade. She would be powerful, but not as powerful as Valerian and his brethren. She would rule, but only as they would have her rule. She would be known to all as 'Queen', but she would not be the driving force behind her 'throne'. In a nutshell, the Brotherhood wanted to be at the top rung of the ladder without the accompanying hassles of notoriety.
Shaking her head ruefully, Jade wondered how she would cope with being the 'puppet ruler'. There was no doubt that she would accept her father's plans for her future. Jade had come to realise that her ties to Valerian went further than that of flesh and blood. Perhaps it stemmed from his feeding her night after night... Whatever the reason, Jade felt as if her very soul belonged to him, she could refuse him nothing.
Furthermore, the statue glowing before her allowed no room for dissonance. Jade felt it whisper to her... Sweet, secret promises of power. Power she felt compelled to accept. *No, there's definitely no room for objection on my part. Daddy planned this one perfectly.* Jade stubbed out her cigarette and had just resumed her sightless gaze out of the window when there was a knock on the door.
"Jade? It's Ellie."
Jade quickly placed the statue back in its box and tucked it under her bed covers before replying, "Come on in!"
At the invitation, the Slayer walked in and threw herself into the nearest chair announcing, "I'm bored out of my skull! There's hardly anything to bloody do around here... Thought I'd drop by and see if you wanted to fence."
"I'm sorry Ellie, I'm tired." The only thing Jade wanted to do was brood further on what Valerian had told her. "Maybe later?"
"What the hell's the matter with you these past few days?" Ellie demanded. "You've been acting weird since you came back on Friday night. Where did you go? What did you do? Did something happen?" She paused, frowning as she whined, "It's not fucking fair that you get to go out and I don't... I've been training a lot longer than you have!"
Friday. The night she had seen Sorrow. Fighting to keep her face expressionless, Jade shrugged. Though she spoke softly, her tone was icy. "Since when is where I go and what I do any of your business? I really am tired Ellie... Which is why I'd appreciate it if you'd leave now so I could rest." In dismissal, Jade turned her attention back to window.
After Ellie had flounced off in a temper Jade closed her eyes, going back to the night she had walked away, forever, from the man she loved. Surprisingly, even as she braced for it, thinking about Sorrow the 2164th time didn't hurt as much as it as it did on the 2163rd time, which hadn't hurt as much as the 2162nd... Even the recollection of his parting words - "You are not Jade. You may wear her face and form, but you are not the woman I loved. Should we meet again, I'll bare my blade and cleanse the world of your presence." - didn't sear her heart as badly as it previously had.
Was it her survival instincts kicking in? Was her love for him dying? Jade doubted even the love she and Sorrow had shared could survive everything the two of them now faced. *Maybe I'm making it die...* Jade sighed tiredly. *Maybe I have to kill it before the pain of it kills me.* There was also the possibility that her vampiric instincts were ridding her of the remaining aspects of her humanity. Vampires were, after all, soulless creatures incapable of sustaining love.
For the millionth time, Jade wondered if Sorrow would make good on his threat to kill her when their paths next crossed. She knew him well enough to realise that it hadn't been an empty threat. She also knew that with the plans the Brotherhood were putting into action, it was a matter of time before she and Sorrow met again, on opposite ends of the 'battlefield'.
*What about me? Will I be able to raise a hand against him, Tash or Victor in a fight? Will I be able to kill him if my life is on the line?* Jade breath made misty patches on the glass as she let out a choked sob. When push came to shove, she knew she wouldn't have much of a choice.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 12th
Centennial High School, Alhambra
Morning
Dray’chen walked the halls of the school calmly, ignoring the odd look he got from passing staff or pupil. The scowl he had contorted this host’s face into served its purpose of dissuading anybody from attempting to engage in any form of conversation with him. Even if they had, he would still ignore them. After all, he was here to do something in particular. Rather, his attention was diverted to the moment ahead. He had been looking forward to this, rolling the anticipation round in his head like you would savor a particular exquisite food type. Pausing just before what would be to anybody else just another door, the demon gathered himself, stretching his neck and arms before assuming a less threatening posture and stepping in front of it.
This would most definitely be interesting.
“No Stephan, you don’t say “el luna”. Moon is feminine, so the article is la, ‘la luna’…” When Alessa noticed that her student wasn’t paying her any attention but looking at the door, she stopped talking and followed the kid’s stare. There, leaning against the threshold with his arms crossed, stood Chance. A wide grin spread in Alessa’s face. Turning to her students she excused herself and controlled herself not to run to him, leaving the door open behind her.
She was beyond relief, she hadn’t heard of Chance since last night, when she had been all dressed up waiting for him. The next day was her birthday and Chance had promised to take her out for dinner to celebrate the moment it started. However, he hadn’t showed up and she had waited for hours until sleep had overcome her. She woke up at dawn, stiff and still alone. With all that had been happening in the city lately her mind had been filled with terrible images as she changed for school. But now he was there and all was all right again, although he bore a serious expression.
“Chance? What’s wrong?” Alessa asked.
“Alessa, love, I… I just had to talk to you. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer.” He looked away.
“What is it?” she pressed.
Chance looked back and stared deep into her eyes. “Alessa, I love you. More than I’ve loved anything I my life. I… I just wanted you to know.”
In reply, her heart melted and tears swelled in her eyes. “Oh, Chance,” she breathed, and took a step towards him, arms outstretched.
But he took a step back and began laughing. “Oh man, oh man, you make me crack up sometimes. You should have seen your face!” After gathering breath for a moment, Chance went on. “Now what did I come for? Oh, yeah. I thought I should tell you I won’t be home tonight. Or tomorrow, either. I’m heading to New York.”
Alessa felt like a stab of stone had pressed her heart; she couldn’t breath. “New York?” she asked. “What are you talking about?” She couldn’t believe the mockery in his words, the sense of betrayal… She raised a hand to him but stopped mid-air looking intently into his eyes. Those weren’t her lover’s eyes…
“Well, you’re great and all,” Chance went on, seemingly oblivious to Alessa’s reaction. “But you’re getting a bit too… what’s the word?” He stared off into space for a moment before looking back at her and clicking his fingers. “Clingy. A guy just needs his space, y’know?”
Alessa took a step forward, still staring deeply into Chance’s eyes. She watched him and reached to feel him… *Something is off with him*, she thought. Chance’s musk scent tingled her senses, and still there was something else there… something that wasn’t him.
His well-loved eyes bore an unfamiliar sneer, even his stance was slightly different. Reaching up she tried to touch him; her gaze still locked to his. At his slight movement of rejection she dropped her hand and her pensive expression hardened to something more feral.
*No*, she thought, *this is not Chance.*
Alessa could barely speak and she whispered, “Who are you?”
Dray’chen knew his masquerade was up. He had done this plenty of times before to know when to reveal the truth, and do so in a big way. The demon let out a bark of sinister laughter. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, hot stuff,” he said, mock seductively, before shoving Alessa hard.
She fell back into the classroom, and Dray’chen marched in menacingly after her, laughing again. “The name’s Dray’chen, murderer at large. And you, my pretties,” he swept his arm up and around to take in all the pupils, “are now my hostages. How nice of you mortals to gather all these, young, innocent, children in one place. You’re virtually giving me a written invitation to slaughter you all.”
Alessa lithely got up and took a quick look at her terrified students; some of them had stood up and were running to help her. Others were immobile and yet others had started to scream. She extended her arms, palms up, to them to be quiet, Chance *no, Dray’chen* she corrected herself, was laughing insanely.
She stood in front of the kids and faced him again. She had to protect the children, she thought, while covertly looking for escape ways. But there weren’t any, she would have to make him get out of the classroom.
“What do you want?” she asked, trying to take his attention away from the children.
“Surely you’ve been able to guess that by now,” the demon answered in a patronizing tone. “I’m going to kill you all. But no, not yet,” he added in answer to the screams. “Not yet.” Dray’chen kicked the door behind him closed with his foot without turning. “You know, that’s the exact thing old Ernie asked me before…”
“Before what?” Alessa asked when he didn’t go on, pale and almost not wanting to know what the answer was.
“Well, it was after I killed the servant.” Dray’chen lowered his head. “But before I killed his wife. With this.” He reached behind his back, and from the belt on his trousers drew Ernie’s pistol and aimed it at her. “A marvelous weapon, one that I thank the old Watcher for… lending… to me. It certainly has its advantages over the sword-"
Dray’chen was cut off when the door behind him banged open, and the school’s principal barged in. “Alessa? Is everything all right? There’s been reports of a stranger on campus. I’ve phones the police, they’re on their way, I was just making sure-" He never finished the sentence, never even saw his end coming.
Without hesitating the demon swung round, brought up the pistol, and blew out the principal’s left eye. His body, carried on a bit by his forward momentum, took another step before it toppled over backwards.
“How rude,” Dray’chen commented whilst looking down at the corpse and somehow managing to be heard over the renewed screams and crying. “Interrupting me whilst I’m talking.”
He turned back to Alessa. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Dear Ernie. Well, he lent me the gun after it became apparent he wasn’t going to be using it any more. Or doing anything else, for that matter, if you catch my drift,” he winked. “And to think, if you hadn’t taken Chance there, then I’d never have known about him. They all might still be alive. But thanks to you, I got some warm-up practice after my long incarceration, and the gun. I just wanted to come down here and thank you. Oh, and, of course, do some killing.”
Alessa denied with her head as she watched Mr. Port stare at her with his only fixed eye, and didn’t turn to watch the children behind her. She looked at Chance again and noticed a greenish glow in his blue eyes. She refused to follow the line of his words, there were more urgent matters to solve… like having all those kids removed from the classroom.
“How did you do it?” she asked, trying to have him boasting so he wouldn’t notice her moving slowly towards the door. She wanted him to follow her to the hall. A fire alarm was sounding outside and she hoped the rest of the children had been taken out of the school already.
“Oh, that’s not important any more. What matters is I’m here. And, love, take another step and you’re dead,” he added, waving the pistol for emphasis. “Or one of them are.” Alessa stopped dead in her tracks when she realized he meant the children. “Now close the door and step back into the room, there’s a good girl.”
Alessa did as the demon asked, but when she turned back they could all hear the sound of a siren from outside. Some of the children whispered their thanks that the police were here at last.
“Oh, goody,” Dray’chen exclaimed. “This would be the local law enforcement, correct? I do hope we get into a hostage situation. Or maybe a gunfight. I’ve never been in one of them before.”
“I’m not going to let you shoot anybody else,” Alessa said, stubbornly.
The demon looked at her oddly for a moment, head cocked to one side. “Very well, then. Have it your way,” he said at length before handing her the gun, butt first. She snatched it out of his hand quickly and flicked on the safety.
Dray’chen gave her a lop-sided grin, then turned and faced the door with his arms crossed and simply… waited. His back was facing Alessa, and all she had to do was raise the pistol and flick the safety off again and pull the trigger and it would save many lives. But even as she thought it she knew she couldn’t do it. There might be hope of bringing Chance back, and whilst that hope remained she couldn’t bring herself to kill him.
After a few minutes of silence they heard hurried footsteps from outside. The door was kicked in and two policemen entered, their own guns raised. Dray’chen let them take two steps into the room before he leapt into action.
He sidestepped the first cop so quickly even Alessa almost missed it, broke his wrist so that his gun clattered to the floor and threw him across the room. The policeman hit the blackboard, breaking it under his weight and sank to the floor. Even before he impacted, Dray’chen had moved onto the second one; swinging in under his guard so the demon’s back was to his chest and pulled his arm down and around. All this took place in the time between the cop starting to pull the trigger and the bullet leaving the gun. Rather than shooting at Dray’chen, or the empty space he had occupied, it was now aimed at his partner, who slumped forward; the pain of his wrist now omitted by the fact that he was dead.
Dray’chen spun so he was now behind the second cop and with a flick of his wrist snapped his neck. He dumped the body with the other two.
“You know, they were so much more entertaining when they had swords. But I have to admit, it’s always entertaining when somebody else makes the rules.”
Alessa watched the fight with open eyes, the gun forgotten in her hand. It all had ended so soon that she was awed at the demons’ strength and skills. Chance was very strong but this was… Shaking her head she looked at the children behind her, now silent and scared to death. They watched from her to Chance with horror in their eyes. Alessa’s thoughts whirled in her mind, *I have to get him out of here,* she repeated for the hundredth time.
Then it occurred to her, if she moved fast enough she could get to the hall before he could stop her. He was there to get her, after all, the children were only a way of getting to her. *Oh, God, make this work,* she prayed and without more thought she run to the door with all her might. In two powerful leaps she crossed before him and was out of the classroom.
“I have a trick or two of my own, Dray’chen!” she shouted from there, “Come get me!”
Dray’chen growled at leapt out the door behind her. That was foolish of him, to let her be able to do that. The children he had already forgotten. They had served his purpose. Now all he was focused on was her.
In the hall, he saw her running as fast as he could. With a feral grin on his lips he took off in pursuit, catching up with her quickly and easily. A demon she may be, but a minor one bound to this plane. He was faster than her and could leap the five foot distance between them easily, he knew that, but mere physical prowess was not the only power he had at hand.
As Alessa burst through a pair of double doors, Dray’chen raised both arms palms up. With a flash of green from his eyes, two bolts of lightning of a similar colour flickered out from each of his hands and arced into the lockers lining the hall. Then the lightning leapt to the other side, each bolt dragging a section of locker across the hall. This was repeated again and again until a wall of scorched metal blocked Alessa’s path.
The lightning dissipated and she turned back to face Dray’chen. “I think that when it comes to tricks, I take the metaphorical biscuit, love,” he said.
Alessa turned with fear in her eyes; this demon in Chance was much more powerful than what she had thought. She gulped and watched him walk slowly to her with an ironic smile in his face. Now that it was only the two of them, she had to think how to get away from there. She didn’t think that she stood a chance if she were to fight him, but it seemed that she wouldn’t have other choice.
She breathed in and straightened, resolve in her eyes. She wouldn’t quiver in front of him like some simpering woman. She looked straight into his resplendent eyes, and smiled too.
He strode over to her slowly but purposefully, reaching out with his left arm to cup her face in his hand. “Aww… poor kitten. Nowhere left to run. Hush, kitten.” Dray’chen wiped away a tear, then began stroking stray locks of hair out of Alessa’s face. “It will be over soon.” His hand trailed down to her neck. She slapped his hand away and took a step back.
“I don’t need to run,” she said, furious now at the smug expression on his face. “What, afraid of kittens, are you?” she taunted. He seemed to be enjoying this immensely.
That did the trick. Dray’chen snarled and sprang for her, and Alessa gasped as he pinned her against the wall. Alessa grimaced, struggling futilely against the superior strength of the demon. “That’s the way I like you... hot and scared.” he said, pressing his body to hers and leaning in for an ugly kiss. In response her teeth sharpened unconsciously and she bit the demon’s lip, drawing blood. Caught by surprise, Dray’chen howled and backhanded her, who rolled with the punch and came up with her hands raised on a fighting stance. Wiping the blood from his mouth, the demon smiled and leapt for her again.
Alessa vaulted over him and landed at his back. She pummeled Dray’chen powerfully but he turned, blocking her punch and slamming a blow to her jaw, off-balancing her. She stepped back and launched forward with a high kick to his chest, but it was like knocking on a wall. The demon laughed and clasped her foot, knocking it back and making her twist in the air like a spinning top.
Crying, Alessa landed hard against a locker. Trying to get out of it, her hand fell on a baseball bat. She gripped it strongly, and leapt against him once more with a howl. However, Dray’chen just laughed and deflected her bat; she ducked low to twirl it to his legs, trying to trip him to the ground. Again, she felt like she was hitting a rock.
“Please stop that,” he said after the third blow failed to do anything useful. “It really is not getting you anywhere.” To emphasize, Dray’chen clasped the bat on the fourth swing. With seemingly little effort he crushed it into splinters. Alessa dropped the now useless handle and stepped away from him. “Anything else? Really, I have nothing better to do today.”
Panting furiously Alessa looked at the face she loved so much, contorted now in an ironic smile. There was nothing she could do against him, and he knew it. She knew he was toying with her and that angered her even more. But she wasn’t going to die today, not at his hands.
“Tired, love?” she asked and lunged against him once again, changing even before she hit him. She saw surprise in her opponent’s eyes as she smashed him with her now almost 300 pounds of weight. The transition into her Verbati form was instantaneous and effortless; she could do it in a second, although that was a talent that she rarely used.
Dray’chen, having been facing a slip of a girl was caught by surprise and lost his balance, hitting hard on the floor. Alessa leapt and sat on top of him, baring her now powerful teeth and raising a huge paw, her retractile claws ready to slash. She stopped herself in the last second, though, remembering through the red mist of her fury that this was Chance beneath her.
Just one second was all the demon needed, however. In her one instant of weakness, Dray’chen took advantage of Alessa’s hesitation. With superhuman-strength, magic, and a great deal of effort even from him, he was able to throw her off him and a few feet away.
“Oh, yes. Demon. I completely forgot in all the excitement. Silly me,” he said, picking himself up off the floor. “I guess it’s fortunate for me there’s till a trace of human left in you. Well, I’ll soon take care of that by making sure not a trace of you exists.” Once more, Dray’chen advanced towards her.
Their attention was diverted when Dray’chen’s barrier of lockers exploded. Metal sliced through the air, cutting them both in a number of places.
A small object was thrown through the hole. It bounced once, rolled, and came to a stop when it hit Dray’chen’s feet. He bent down and picked the object up, holding it close to his face and looking at it closely to try and work out what it was. Then, a flash of memory came from his host’s body.
“Oh, fu-" he began, before the flash grenade exploded right in his face. The demon cried in frustration more than anger and toppled over.
Alessa had recognised the grenade and had the wisdom to look away and cover her ears before it went off. Despite her precautions, the roar of the detonation threatened to deafen her.
Turning back, she watched as a dozen men ran through the remains of the barrier, armed with automatic weapons and dressed in combat gear. Their faces were obscured by helmets. The letters ‘S.W.A.T.’ were stencilled across their chests. A dozen more burst in through the other end of the corridor.
Whilst the smoke cleared, she quickly changed back into her human form before they noticed her. Two of the policemen approached Alessa, and one of them mouthed something at her but she couldn’t hear what they said. Still, his urgent waving conveyed the idea, and she quickly followed them out.
They had taken only five steps before Alessa could hear faint cries of screaming and gunshots, growing louder as her hearing returned.
Dray’chen had waited until both hearing and sight had returned to him fully, far quicker than it would have for any human. By then, soldiers stood above him with weapons at the ready.
The demon took them by surprise, kicking two across the hall whilst still on the ground. Then he leapt up and planted his fist into the face of two others, sending them spinning away, screaming. Several others turned in his direction and began firing; pop, pop, pop, but Dray’chen ignored the stings of bullets hitting his body. He turned to look for Alessa, and saw her being escorted quickly away, saw her turn and look at him in fear.
He smiled, raising Ernie’s pistol again. Pointing it at her, he mouthed bang before turning the other way and leaving, killing another three of the S.W.A.T on the way. There would be another time, a more ‘private’ time when they wouldn’t have to worry about being rudely interrupted. Although he had loved the irony of killing her on her birthday.
Even though she was at the other end of the hall, even though her hearing hadn’t quite returned and even though guns were firing and men shouting, Alessa could clearly hear his insane laughter following her out of the school.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 12th
Cole’s place
3:00 pm
Alessa looked around, clenching her hands. She didn’t think Chance had followed her, but she couldn’t be sure. She had to talk to Cole, had to warn him, she thought as she knocked on the door of his apartment.
She just hoped she wasn't too late. The police had kept her for hours, interrogating her about the man who had attacked the school and who had seemed to know her. She had pretended to be in shock and hadn’t answered any of their questions. They had finally let her go, warning her not to leave the city.
The door opened, much too quickly, as if he had been waiting for her, and Cole looked at her with a look of concern.
"Its Chance isn’t it?" Cole said anxiously as he quickly invited her inside. Normally, the kid would have been dreadfully embarrassed of his living conditions, but he had no time to think about that now.
"I felt it. Something happened to him. Oh God, is he ok, Alessa?"
Alessa just shook her head, relieved to see that the kid was safe and sound... still. The lump that had grown in her throat since she left the police station wouldn’t let her talk. She didn’t wonder how the kid had known what had happened, nor did she care. All she could think of was the expression on Chance’s face when he had left the school, mimicking firing a pistol at her and laughing like a madman.
“I don’t know, Cole,” she said at last, “No, no, he’s not ok… he…” and she gulped looking for words. She still couldn’t understand what had happened.
Tears began to well in Cole's eyes, as he listened to Alessa speak. There were only two people he had come to care for since he moved to LA and now both of their lives were being turned upside down.
He didn’t need to ask her to explain more in detail, his newly improved psychic abilities allowed him to pick up most of the memories she had horribly replayed in her mind.
"We... we have to help him, Alessa."
She nodded, her face still stricken by what had happened, but at the kid’s words she straightened and looked into his tearful eyes. Alessa’s eyes were as dry as her words when she spoke, “We have to cast the demon from him; no way I’m standing still watching him destroy Chance.”
Cole's face grew wide in surprise. He knew something terrible had happened to Chance, but he never expected this.
"A demon... inside," Cole gulped. Taking a deep breath, Cole tried to put on a brave front. "You know I’ll do anything to help Chance."
Alessa smiled tenderly at the teen. He put a brave face but she could see that he was scared. “I know Cole, that’s why I came to you… that, and to tell you that you have to leave this place.” her eyes shone red as she added. “Chance…” Alessa shook her head. *No, not Chance, the demon,* she thought. “He… he may come here too.”
"I can’t leave here. If what you're saying is true, and Chance does come, he may stumble on my roommate. We're not friends or anything, but I can’t leave her here unprotected." Cole ran into his room, coming back a second later with a strange powder. "I’ll cast a banishing spell on the apartment to prevent Chance from coming here. If I'm lucky, it will be strong enough to keep him at bay."
Alessa looked doubtful, but she could understand him. She still remembered her shock when Chance had told her about attacking Ernie. She had called to his house before getting to Cole’s and a police officer had answered. She knew now that Ernie’s wife, Andrea, was dead and that her friend had been taken to a hospital, gravely wounded. If Cole lived with somebody it was only natural that he didn’t want to leave him or her unprotected. She just hoped the spell was strong enough to keep the demon outside.
“Are you sure you can keep him out?”
Cole’s body was trembling. Although he was certainly powerful, for his age, he was still just a kid. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly. Cole allowed his body to plop on the dirty couch, his body slouching in despair. “Even if he does manage to get in, do you think – do you think he’d hurt me?”
*He is so young,* thought Alessa. She just hoped she could tell him what he wanted to hear, but after what had happened today at the school and Ernie’s attack, she couldn’t lie to him. Chance would hurt him, and enjoy doing it.
“I’d feel better if you just left the place, Cole. You could tell your friend to go somewhere else too, but of course that’s your choice.” She was moving out this same evening. Apart from her own safety, Chance knew about the flower and she couldn’t risk him destroying it.
“Actually,” Cole continued, changing his mind, “I’ll come with you now to make sure you get to wherever it is you are hiding safely, and then I'll cast a protection spell there. Once I know you’re safe – or safer at least, I’m going to have to come back here.”
As the two gathered the needed components for his spell and prepared to leave, Cole looked up at Alessa, tears once again struggling to appear.
“Chance is going to be ok, right?”
“Of course he will,” answered Alessa with a conviction she was far from feeling. She didn’t know how she would go on living if he didn’t. She had lost the man she loved once, she couldn’t even think of it happening again. She wouldn’t let it happen again.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Monday, 16 October 2006 - 2.30am
A succession of loud crashes snapped Jade out of her reverie. It was then that she felt the waves of magical energy rolling through her room. She had been so engrossed in her own thoughts that she had failed to notice the warning tingling along her spine from the outset.
Rushing from her room towards the source of the magic, Jade almost collided with Samantha as her rival flew up the spiral staircase leading from the Hyperion's lobby.
"Watch it, bitch!" Sam spat before sailing past her in the direction of Dathan's suites.
Jade was saved from making a nasty retort when the door leading to Dathan's chambers burst open and the Elder came out dragging the bloodied body of a tall, young man.
Jade watched, slightly bewildered as Dathan stalked past the lot of them - her, Samantha, Valerian, who had also been attracted by the noise and the group of vampires skulking around the lobby - and made his way towards the Hyperion's basement. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at her father but Valerian merely gave an elegant shrug and said, "The faery was in better health the last time I saw him. It doesn't look like he managed to get your little job done, my dear."
*The faery? That was Evexus?* Jade's eyes narrowed briefly before she mirrored Dathan's footsteps towards the basement.
*****
Tuesday, 17th October 2006, 12:24 am
A slight groan broke the eerie silence of the Hyperion's cellar. A succession of other moans followed in turn as Darian finally managed to regain conciousness. *Wha..? Where..?* Managing to finally muster the strength to open his eyelids, Darian was greeted by a most cheerful environment; the cold, unwelcoming basement of the Elders' abode.
For a second, the absence of others in the room gave him hopes of escaping, but his plans were quickly cut short when his mind became clear enough to take in everything around him. He was not upright from his own strength, but rather semi-dangling from the ceiling chains which were bound around his wrists. His exposed chest sported a variety of cuts and bruises, along with several bite marks. Dathan had allowed his brood to feed from Darian, only enough to get an 'upper' from his mystical blood, while leaving the helpless man alive.
Upon seeing these battle wounds, Darian finally realized the pain he was in. His body had been beaten to the point of death, and was lacking blood. Had it not been for the dark faery's power inside, he surely would not have survived the night.
*I have to find a way out...* His thoughts were interrupted however, as a beautiful young Asian woman walked gracefully into the room he was being imprisoned in. Was she another of the Elder's family, coming to taste the treat of faery blood? Darian half-wished if she was, she would drink him dry, and thus release him from his agony.
"You're awake. It took you long enough," Jade spoke softly as she took in the battered body before her. Using the washcloth she had brought with her, she dabbed gently at one of the many deep gashes on Darian's chest, smiling at the puzzled look on his face.
The flunkies - as she liked to term the multitudes of vampires her father and his brethren employed - had told her everything about the prisoner last night. Jade had to admit that she was curious; her experiences with the fae had been limited to the short time with Matthias. Besides that, she was also...
*Pissed off.* Evexus had been tasked to bring Tash back with him, something he had obviously not accomplished. Since that had been her last hope at getting a part of her old life to crossover to the new one, Jade was determined to know why the faery had failed. She would either coax or beat it out of him and then... Then she would decide on the punishment he deserved.
Darian flinched at the woman's touch. He didn't understand why she was tending to him, but he knew it had to be some form of trick. "You want to clean me before you take a bite? I didn't think vampires had to be afraid of germs."
Jade's eyes narrowed and her smile turned sharp as she dug her nails into the torn flesh of Darian's chest. She had no qualms about being nasty, since the Florence Nightingale approach had failed to work. Dathan had given her leave to do whatever she thought was necessary to get the faery to talk, with the provision that she kept him alive till he provided the answers.
"I'm not a vampire... Well, not exactly." Jade wiped the blood off her fingertips. "In fact, you and I have a lot in common. I'm a halfling too... Half nightwalker, of course, not fae. Now..." Her voice took one a conspirital tone and she leaned towards him. "I don't share Dathan's thirst for senseless violence. So... Seeing that we're practically on our way to becoming best friends, why don't you spare yourself any further agony at my hands and just tell me what I want to know?"
Darian bit his lip to hold back from screaming out in pain; he wouldn't give the girl the satisfaction. "I dont know what the hell it is you think I know, but you can be damn sure, that even if I do, I'm not telling you shit." A look of stoney defiance etched itself on Darian's blood soaked face. "So if you wanna save yourself some time, then kill me already." He had nothing to lose now, the fear of death held no power over him.
"Natasha." The name came out like a whiplash. Jade's hand teasingly circled Darian's throat, the smell of the blood on his body wafting around her like a seductive perfume. "You... Or Evexus... had instructions to bring her back with you. Did you even see her?"
So this was the reason he was to kidnap Tash, to bring her back to this woman. But what interest did this half-breed vamp have with Natasha? It didn't matter really, Darian wasn't going to bother trying to find out.
"I swear, if you do anything to her..." Darian could not finish his threat, the rattle of his chains had reminded him that he would be hard pressed to follow through on it.
Jade's eyes raked over Darian's face. It was evident from his expression that the faery had gone after Tash. Which meant that whoever had bound his evil side had done so after Evexus had made his intentions known but before he could overpower her friend and bring her back. The coppery scent was proving to be distracting. Jade took a step back, her mind working rapidly. *There was a high chance that the person responsible for the binding was someone that Tash knew. Why else would he or she save Tash from being kidnapped? Now, who, among the people that Tash knows, has the kind of power needed?*
*Sorrow.* The name came unbidden. Jade jerked her chin up, mentally slamming the door on the pain that always followed after. *Or Kate. Or that woman from Biblophile, Amanda...* She wondered briefly if she should tell Dathan about the people who had the potential to be responsible for his prisoner's new bindings. The Elder had mentioned that knowing who it was would prove beneficial in breaking the binds and releasing the evil within the faery again.
Jade shrugged. Whether the being in front of her was evil or not was of no concern to her. She turned her attention back to Darian, the look in her eyes slightly feral. The lure of the blood was proving too much to bear. When she spoke, Jade's voice was slightly husky. "I don't respond well to failure. I also don't respond well to smart alecks with more brawn then brain. Perhaps you need a little incentive to tell me exactly what I want to know."
The dim light of the basement illuminated her face as her fangs came into view. Pressing herself lightly against the faery, she tilted her head up to sink them deeply into his throat.
Darian felt a sharp pain as her canines punctured his soft flesh. He struggled to resist, but it was no use. He was too weak to break the shackles, and even if he could, he would be no match for the vampiress in his present condition. He could do nothing but succumb to her dark embrace. Moments after, Darian's eyes fluttered shut once more, as he gave up the fight to remain conscious. He just prayed that if and when he awoke, it would not be as a night walker.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 12th
Chance’s place
Night
“Are you all right, Alessa?” asked Cole, worried. “I could stay the night, you know, if you want me to.” But Alessa shook her head, giving him a thankful smile.
“Thank you, but no. I need to be alone,” she said and the despair in her eyes made Cole’s heart flinch. He just hoped he could do more for her and Chance. He remembered the afternoon when they had met not so long ago. they had seemed so happy then… and now this.
“Ok,” he said, “I’ll come check in the morning, then,” and watched around with a doubtful look in his eyes. Alessa had said that Chance wouldn’t look for her in his old place, but wished he could be so sure. However, nothing he had said would change her mind and after realizing it he had done everything in his power to make her secure.
After what had happened to Ernie and his wife, she hadn't wanted to lead Chance to any of the new acquaintances she had made while working on Dathan’s ritual. Nevertheless she had agreed on leaving her place and had taken the mburucuyá flower with her.
Cole blushed when she hugged him fiercely before letting him go. “You take care of yourself too, kid,” she said and he had to nod at this; he would not sleep safely tonight, either.
*Damn this life,* he thought as he left the apartment through the fire escape ladder. *When the rough get going, the going gets rough* he said to himself, turning the saying upside down to fit the situation.
After Cole went away, Alessa set the precious flower on a table and carefully changed its water, as she had been doing every night since she had gotten back from Paraguay. While she manipulated the glowing flower its power made her forget the events of the day; but the moment she closed the acrylic box, all the weight of what had happened hit her with renewed force and she finally let go of the despair she felt inside.
Only then did she allow the grief to surface. It welled up from deep within her, great pants of sorrow filling her throat so she could barely breathe, tears pouring uncontrollably from her eyes. Crying she let herself fall on the mattress that had been Chance’s bed, his scent still distinguishable to her well developed sense of smell.
Some time later, calmer, she fell asleep remembering Chance’s face, the passionate blue eyes, the wide, humorous mouth, as she had seen him in the hidden gorge, before real life caught them again.
*** Flashback ***
September 22nd
Hidden Gorge
afternoon
After being assured by the Shaman that the vampires wouldn’t bother them again, and with the pressure of finding the flower gone, Alessa and Chance had decided to make the most of the time they spent in that magical place. They had left the temple to explore the surrounding area and their roaming had taken them to this bewitching spot, where the water created a little bay against the jungle. Alessa nibbled on a papaya she had picked as she watched Chance bathe in the slow river water.
At his waving to join him in the water, Alessa stood up and went to him, wading slowly until he caught her in his arms and, losing foot, they tumbled into the water. They became children playing then, like that day in the California beach, but all the inhibitions they had felt then were melting away, a transition that seemed quite natural to them both.
When they tired of swimming and playing they got out of the water to the cool shadows where Alessa had sat. Chance dropped down besides her and selected some fruit for himself. The bright golden light pouring through the curtain above made his blond hair gleam and casted Alessa’s body in a deep bronze.
Chance fed her a slice of the fruit, and then cleaned the juice that dribbled down her chin. His wet hands glided softly over her slick flesh. He gazed at her as he had the night before, enchanted by the full sensuality of her mouth, her luminous green eyes. She seemed more an angel than a demon to him; stirring in him a fierce possessiveness and a need to protect her from the world. He had blunted his emotions for too long.
Alessa drew in a shaky breath as Chance’s hungry gaze raked her from head to toe, lingering in her mouth before kissing her. She could taste the sweet fruit on him, like a drug ravaging her body. Closing her eyes, she gave in to the pleasure of the kiss until she broke contact.
“Chance?”
His eyes opened and he stared into the green seriousness of her eyes. His face only inches from hers. “Yes?” he asked, worried by her expression. Was she having second thoughts?
“I love you,” she said, exposing her heart in her words.
Relieved, Chance smiled and kissed her again. Her mouth was moist and sweet against his own. He drew Alessa deeper into his arms, savoring her skin against his own. She hooked an arm around his nape, pressing him to her as if this might be the last kiss they would ever share. Their lips making promises they would gladly spend their lifetimes keeping.
They made love slowly this time, their bodies perfectly attuned, delighting in each other and fully responsive to the moment of ecstasy that finally came.
Afterwards, her eyelids grew heavy and Chance watched her fall asleep in his arms, curved trustingly against him. He kissed Alessa’s satiny skin as he watched her nap. Although his own body demanded rest he didn’t give in to sleep; for all the Shaman’s reassurances he wouldn’t sleep with vampires around. Slowly his gaze turned from the woman beside him to the river and then to the sky. Soon it would be night and their time there would be over. They had held back the world for some hours but it would come rushing in again.
*** End of Flashback ***
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Friday 13th October,
Late Night
Cole kept fidgeting nervously on the couch, as he desperately tried to find a comfortable position that he was satisfied with. Deep down however, he knew nothing was going to make him relax. He couldn’t help worrying if Alessa was all right. *I can’t believe everything that's happening,* he thought as he brought his knees closer to his chest.
Grabbing hold of the remote, Cole switched the channel, finally landing on a rerun of The Simpsons. After a few minutes, Cole had almost been successful in forgetting about the dreadful state of affairs, except he was slammed back to reality by a knock on the door.
Getting up tiredly, he walked over to the entrance of the apartment. “Did you forget your key again?” he said annoyed, thinking it was his prostitute roommate. “I swear, one day I won't be here to op-” His comment was cut short when he realised who stood on the other side of the entrance and a shiver ran down his side.
“Hello, Cole,” Dray’chen said with a broad smile. “Mind if I come in?”
His hand shot up, aimed straight for Cole’s neck. Involuntarily, the kid took a step back, only to see it pointless when the demon’s hand collided with an invisible brick wall. The air rippled and yellow sparks shot out. Dray'chen looked at his hand, keeping his smile. “Now that’s just no fun is it?”
“Chance!” the teen gasped in fright. At first he didn’t understand howcome the demon couldn’t get in, but he quickly remembered the spell he had worked before. *Well, at least now I know it works… but for how long?* He tried to push the question from his mind, hoping to take this opportunity to get through to his friend.
“Chance, it’s me - Cole. You’ve got to stop what you’re doing, this isn’t you. I know you are stronger than the demon, you’ve got to get a hold of yourself again.”
Dray’chen gave a face. “Don’t even bother. It’s not going to happen. Oh, Chance can hear you just fine. And see you too, that’s what makes this so amusing.” He added with a sick grin, “But there’s no way he can possibly resist me. Like this spell of yours.”
The demon punched at the doorway with such force it made Cole jump. The air rippled like before, and sparks began flying. But this time Dray’chen didn’t take his hand away. He kept it there, increasing the pressure on the barrier. Bigger sparks flew as sweat gathered on his forehead.
For a second, Cole was going to take the demon’s advice. Every fibre of his being was terrified, and told him to flee as fast as he could, but his logic luckily got the best of him. He knew that the second he left the safety of his spell, Dray’chen would catch up to him.
Raising his hand, Cole began to weave more magical threads into the barrier. “If you know anything about magic, then you’ll know it’s a lot easier to keep adding to the barrier than it is for you to take away from it,” Cole said, trying to sound confident. His efforts were undermined however, but the obvious quivering in his voice. “You know we’re going to find a way to stop you and get Chance back.”
The demon kept up the pressure a little longer, then gave up and straightened. He knew the kid was right, what he had said was true, but he had hoped Cole hadn’t known that. Evidently, he had been doing more experimentation whilst his host and that bitch of his had been in Paraguay than he had let on. Dray’chen could break it down, given time, but it would take far too much power than he was willing to lose right now, especially given the fact he never knew when they were going to show up.
Still, never mind. There was always tomorrow. He didn’t have to kill Cole today. This said, he was beginning to becoming increasingly annoyed. He hadn’t been able to kill any of Chance’s close friends yet.
“I wish you good guy types would stop with the ‘we’ll stop you and save Chance’ malarkey. It’s just not going to happen. Ever. So… somebody’s been playing with magic,” he taunted in a sing-song tone. “Ever thought of turning to dark magics? I’d imagine you’d be pretty powerful.” But Dray’chen held his hands up in defence before Cole could answer. “No, I know, I know. You’d never turn to the dark side. Damn white hats.”
“I’m not into the black arts,” Cole started, his voice growing angry now, “But I swear if you don’t leave right now, I’ll invoke the darkest deities on your demon ass that you won't know what hit you!” The teen knew that he didn’t have the abilities to call down anything really powerful, but he hoped his bluff would scare off Dray’chen.
Unfortunately, it didn’t. The demon only laughed. “Oh, now I would love to see that. Especially considering I have a pact with most of them. It would be great to see the old deities again, I wonder how they’re doing…But back to us.” Dray’chen leaned in close to Cole, his head touching the barrier and drawing a faint ripple.
“I’m going now, but only because letting you live in fear for the next few days is going to drive you slowly but surely insane. For I can kill you at any time, any moment. I’m not a vampire, bound by the darkness. I could walk up to you in the middle of the street and break your neck. Don’t view this as mercy. It isn’t and I have none. It’s merely another form of torture. One that I have seen prove effective time and time again. And on that note,” Dray’chen took a step back, “I bid you farewell. Until next time…” He tipped his head in mock salute, grinned once, turned and then was gone.
Cole slammed the door shut and fell to his knees. He had managed to keep himself composed in front of Dray’chen, but now that the demon was gone, he let it all out. Tears flowed freely from his large blue eyes. Kids his age were supposed to worry about things like finding dates and getting rid of pimples, not about big, evil demons trying to rip them to pieces. But he did not only weep for himself. He cried for Alessa, who had lost her lover. He cried for Chance, who was trapped, able to see the demon’s actions, but helpless to stop them. Finally, he cried for everyone who Dray’chen would come across. *Goddess save us all.*
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 13th
L.A. Community Hospital
10:30 am
Alessa walked casually to Ernie’s room. A policeman was sitting next to the door, as a security measure. However, the agent only bowed his head in acknowledgment and let her enter the room taking her for one of the nurses that had been going in and out his friend’s room. As she closed the door behind her she snorted, much good all this security would do to them is Dray’chen decided to pay the hospital a visit. She just hoped he didn’t, though, since she couldn’t take his friend to a safer place.
The ICU room was silent besides the steady beep of the heart monitor, the sound relaxing her. Ernie looked small and frail in the bed, and for the first time Alessa realized how old he was. However, his chest moved up and down regularly and the heart monitor displayed a systematically peaked green line. The doctor had told her that even though they had been able to repair his internal wounds Ernie had fallen into a deep coma and they didn’t know if he would wake up.
Silently she sat next to him and took one of his hands in hers. It felt cold to the touch and she felt as if the coldness invaded her own body as well.
“Oh, Ernie. I’m so sorry,” she breathed, leaning her head on their entangled hands.
Guilt pressed heavily on her heart. Although rationally she knew that she wasn’t responsible for Dray’chen’s actions, deep in her heart she kept repeating that if she hadn’t taken Chance to Ernie’s house none of this would have happened. Andrea would still be alive and her dearest friend would not be fighting for his life.
She stayed with Ernie as long as she dared. She didn’t want to make the agent outside suspicious or risk him seeing the real nurse around. With a last glance to Ernie she left the room, controlling the tears in her eyes.
Once outside the hospital Alessa kept the nurse’s form just in case, thinking about Chance’s situation. Never had she needed her friend’s advice more than now. If somebody could help her understand what had happened to her lover that would be Ernie. *But he can still help me,* she thought, and decided to pay Ernie’s library a visit.
***
Ernie’s place
1:30 pm
Fortunately the only maid left in the house knew her and allowed her to enter, all the time crying and sniffing about the fate of her beloved employers, not to mention poor Malcolm, who had been a dear friend. Alessa let the woman unleash her sorrow and finally headed towards the library.
She spent hours searching through his books, manuscripts and diaries, until she finally found a small reference to the demon Dray’chen. The book was beyond old and written in an old form of Latin, but she had experience in reading such after twenty years next to a Watcher. The old book stated that Dray’chen was a non-corporeal demon from hell that housed a human host and took control. The demon had been active for millennia until he disappeared almost a thousand years ago. He was stated responsible for the provocation of terrible wars leading to the deaths of thousands, the destruction of whole towns and the death of a number of Slayers.
There were mentions of the demon in the Book of Tobit and the Talmud, in relation to characters like King Solomon and Raquel’s daughter, Sarah. There was an obscure reference to his last host too, a Templar Knight named Matthew. Apparently in 1128 Dray’chen was summoned to possess the Knight Templar. For two hundred years this creature walked the Earth, creating mayhem and destruction. However, later the demon was bound within the Knight and a powerful soldier of good was born. *Matthew, that name rings a bell...* she thought, and she started searching for that name then.
The information on Matthew was more complete because he had worked for the Watchers' Council for some time. As she kept reading Alessa started suspecting that more than a new host, Chance could be this Matthew. *That could explain his strange dreams and blackouts,* she mused, although she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t remembered his past. Then a thought hit her, that would mean that he was more than eight hundred years old! She faintly smiled... and to think that she had worried about him growing old on her!!
At least this opened some possibilities. If Chance really was this Templar Knight then Dray’chen had been bound inside him for almost a thousand years, and that meant that he could be imprisoned again. For the first time since last morning she allowed herself to hope.
It was dark again when Alessa left Ernie’s house with his books in her backpack. She needed to find help if she wanted to attempt binding Dray’chen again. She had decided that she would go to her new acquaintances. She knew now that Kate and Daye were powerful witches, maybe they could help her... and Chance.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Saturday 14th October,
10:11pm
Daniel followed his last customer to the door of his antique weapons shop, Chainmail, said his goodbyes and turned the sign round to say ‘Closed’. Normally he closed much later; for some reason his sales peaked around midnight, which he assumed must be some bizarre effect of LA. But tonight he was closing early.
The sword was whispering to him again.
He walked back over to the counter and began checking the till. Daniel knew he was going crazy. There seemed to be no logical reason for it, and yet he was. It certainly wasn’t the sword. Swords didn’t talk to people. They didn’t make customers look like monsters. They didn’t fill his dreams with blood and death.
It began when he first came across the sword, he mused whilst counting today’s profits. Instantly he had been attracted to the hilt, that was so intricately crafted it must have taken years, if not decades to complete. After purchasing it, Daniel found he could not trace it, indeed could not place it in any time period. That was when the voices began.
But Daniel found his was unable to sell the weapon. Every time he came close he found that at the last minute he was forced to refuse to sell it. It had cost him many customers, and he couldn’t explain why he was attracted to it. Still the voices whispered to him.
Closing the till, he flicked off the lights, picked up his coat and turned back to the door again, ready to leave.
A shadow blocked his path. A shadow of a man. Subconsciously, Daniel took a step back.
“I’m looking for a weapon,” the shadow said.
“Read the sign. I’m sorry, but we’re closed.”
“You don’t understand. I’m here for the sword.”
*Ah, yes. The sword,* Daniel found himself thinking, and then he was turning round and walking into the back room to the cupboard he always kept locked, and unlocking it. There it was; the sword. He reached in to grab the hilt that had first caught his eye. After the first week of owning it, he had stopped looking at the hilt. It made his eyes hurt. Mouths emerged from its twisted surface, moaning in agony. Creatures too hideous to possibly exist writhed on its surface, twirling ever upwards. Two gems, of a type Daniel had been unable to determine, glared out balefully in a sickly green colour. Even as he held the weapon and took it back to the main area of his shop, he swore he could feel its features morph slightly into another horrifying visage.
Daniel knew how this would go. He would show the sword to the customer, who would hand over the money. But he would be unable to sell it, and be forced to hand the money back again. It had happened every time before, it would happen again.
However, when he returned the shadow held his hand open to take the sword and Daniel put it there without hesitation. He then watched on as the shadow held it triumphantly, as if being reunited with a long lost limb. Even as he did so, Daniel was certain the hilt fitted the shadow’s hand perfectly. The gems glowed in the darkness.
Somehow, he was able to babble out the price. The shadow looked at him.
“Oh, no. I’m not paying for what is rightfully mine.”
“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to have it back,” Daniel replied, not really listening to what the shadow had said. He wasn’t really sure he wanted it back, either. The sword had put up no protest at being handed over. Perhaps he should just let it go.
“Very well. Here,” said the shadow, shortly before he plunged the sword into the shopkeeper’s throat.
“I bet you’re so very hungry,” Daniel heard him whispering to the weapon before the world turned slowly to black. And then nothing.
Dray’chen hefted the sword with a wistful smile, then turned and headed out of Chainmail.
Ripper walked quickly down the street to where the store was located. He had only just received his orders to get some freaking sword, which he had no idea what it looked like. As he turned the corner he found himself looking at the guy James had met, called Chance. Ripper gave a wide cheeked toothy grin. *I haven’t killed James’ friends in a while,* he thought, bolting straight towards the figure he recognised as Chance.
Once within striking range he jumped into the air while bringing his knees up into his chest, then kicked Chance in the back, sending him headfirst through the shop window. It shattered under his weight and immediately triggered the alarm.
Dray’chen smashed into a weapons display. Shards of wood and glass exploded into the air, covering him. He slowly got to his feet in time to see his attacker step through the door.
“Now that,” Dray’chen said, brushing himself off, “wasn’t very nice now, was it?” He looked the man up and down. Ah, now this was interesting. Here was the poor dumbass in distress that Chance, the knight in shining armour, had saved from a group of vampires. James. But he had gone missing, right? Evidently not. Either that or James had returned from wherever he went to… and with a little extra too. Chance’s memories told him that the man had been strong, but not strong enough to put him through a window. If knowing Chance wasn’t enough for Dray’chen to kill him, that was. Maybe tonight he would at last be able to kill one of Chance’s friends.
“Well, you know what they say. What goes around,” the demon crossed the distance between the two in the blink of an eye and slammed his fist into James’ gut without braking stride, “comes around.”
The sheer force of the blow sent James flying back out the door he had just stepped in, smashing it out of its hinges. More glass soared through the air, cutting into the both of them. Dray’chen smiled as he turned to look for his sword, his wounds already healing.
As Ripper rolled along the street he realised something was different about this Chance guy. *Ok, so when the fuck did this human get so strong?* It was only when he looked into his eyes did he realise what it was. “Demon are we, Chance?“
Dray'chen gave a nod to him. “Not Chance anymore. It's Dray'chen now, James.”
Ripper’s eyes flared and vamped out. “My name is Ripper.” He moved with inhuman speed and elbowed Dray'chen in the jaw, sending him spinning in mid-air and slamming hard into the ground. Without missing a beat Ripper slammed the heal of his boot hard into Dray'chen’s nose. “Never compare me to that weak fool!”
The demon caught Ripper’s foot as it came down for the second time. Blood had begun to trickle out his nose, and though it didn’t cause any real injury it did serve to piss him off even more. He pushed up with both arms, launching James up and over him to crash into Chainmail. The vampire collided into a shelf next to that which he had hit earlier.
“Well, well, well,” Dray’chen mused, rising smoothly to his feet and wiping the blood from his face. “You’re a vampire… that does surprise me. I wonder how dear old Chance could have missed that? No worry, it’ll make killing you all the more exciting.”
He waited until James had got up until he moved. Before he could do anything Dray’chen had hit him left, right, then an uppercut to knock him backwards. The vampire staggered under the assault, which he followed up with a side-kick to Ripper's face that knocked him spinning.
“I’ll teach a vampire to mess with Dray’chen,” he said, bending down to pick up an axe from amongst the weapons on the floor. *No time to look for the sword… just get it over with and be on my way. There’s a killing to be done and a heads to be messing with,* the demon thought, cheerfully.
Ripper got to his feet. “This is gonna be fun.” He grabbed a dagger and ran at Dray'chen. As he reached him he began to swing and stab, aiming at his vital organs. Dray'chen swung a wide punch at Ripper’s head which he easily blocked with his left hand and with his right stabbed the blade into the demon’s chest. Almost immediately Dray'chen open palm striked Ripper in his chest, knocking him back a few feet.
Dray'chen gave ripper a wide smile and spoke: “You really think that would kill me, vampire?“
Ripper shook his head. “Nope. I wanted to see the level of your healing abilities."
Dray’chen grabbed the hilt protruding from his chest and yanked it without batting an eyelid. “You’re going to have to do better than that.” He began twirling the dagger in his hand. Quickly it began moving like a blur; faster than the eye could follow. Reflected light from outside flashed off the blade. With his other hand, he summoned a number of other similar knives and daggers from their positions around the shop to hover in front of him. Then he let go of the weapon. It sailed through the air, and the others sailed after it, making faint whistling sounds as they went.
Ripper managed to avoid most of them by twirling and ducking, plucking two of the longer bladed knives out of the air as he went, but he inadvertently dodged into the path of another. It sliced through the flesh of his left upper arm. He squinted at the wound, then looked back at the demon. “You’re going to pay for that,” the vampire said as his heightened healing powers went to work, already sealing the wound.
The demon smiled and winked at him with green eyes. “We’ll see,” he said as he raised the axe high and charged forward.
Dray’chen brought it down on Ripper with crushing force, but the vampire brought both blades together above him and blocked the axe, stopping its deadly downwards path even though his legs buckled. Pushing up and outward, he was able to send Dray’chen back a step or two by forcing the axe upwards. For a moment, the demon was off balance. Ripper saw his opening, and went for it.
Ripper stuck both blades deep into the kidneys of Dray’chen. Taking a step back from him, he said, “So you’re telekinetic. I know a kid who would school you with that shit."
Ripper raised his hand in front of his face. His fingers elongated to claws and he gave a wink to Dray’chen. “This is one of gifts from the Slayers." He moved towards him with almost the same speed as the demon had used earlier.
Before Dray’chen could react he felt the claws tear through his guts and work their way upwards to his chest. Dray’chen swung wildly for Ripper with the axe but, surprised by the vampire’s sudden burst of speed, never being able to connect. Ripper was upon Dray’chen again, this time tiger striking his eyes and dragging him to the ground by his face. James brought his knee up into the demon’s ribs sending him up into the air and landing with a hard thud on the pavement, knocking the axe well out of arm’s reach at the same time.
Confidently, Ripper swaggered outside to finish Dray’chen off. He paused above him and readied his claws for the last strike.
However, as the vampire brought his claws down Dray’chen spun off the floor and up onto his knee. His left hand held his demon sword, which he had conveniently rolled onto and now sliced through Ripper’s chest like a hot knife through butter. His right hand was palm up, and with a flash of green eyes in a face of blood a bolt of electricity with a greenish tint flared out and caught Ripper dead on. He went flying backwards across the street, smashing headfirst into a car window. The alarm blared as the glass shattered.
Dray’chen snarled as he advanced upon Ripper, who was pulling himself out of the window, blood gushing out of the wound on his chest even as it slowly closed up. The demon's wounds were already healing, and by the time he reached the car there were only a few patches of dried blood left on his face.
Grabbing the vampire, Dray’chen lifted him up in one arm and held him over his head for a moment, then smashed him down onto the car’s bonnet. It buckled under the impact and Ripper coughed up blood, then just managed to roll out of the way of Dray’chen’s plunging sword. He fell to the ground as the blade cut deep into the car. The demon yanked the sword out and lashed out at Ripper with his foot, sending him sprawling on the ground as he attempted to back away.
“Foolish vampire! You thought you could fight Dray’chen?” he cried. “Ha! Our little skirmish was no more than a warm-up. What temporary damage you thought you did to me was just that; temporary. And inflicted whilst you had me off guard.”
Ripper stubbornly pulled himself to his feet, only to receive Dray’chen’s bunched up fist in his face. The demon laughed to hear the vampire’s nose cracking under the impact. “You vampires have become so weak, almost as pitiful as the humans you hunt. I remember the days when the world trembled at just your name. And now look at you.” He stuck his sword into Ripper’s gut, then pulled it back out again slowly. “The only vampires worth a shred of respect these days are the Brotherhood.”
Ripper laughed, spitting out blood at the same time. “Well, you won’t get much respect from them if you kill one of their protégés!”
Dray’chen raised an eyebrow. “You? Ah, yes… it is beginning to make sense now. That explains why you aren’t dead. Yet.”
“Yet?” the vampire cried. “Listen, motherfucker. I’m gonna rip those damned glowing eyes out of your damned ugly face.” He raised his claws.
“Really? Are you now?” Dray’chen laughed. “I’m sure the Brotherhood won’t mind if I ‘accidentally’ decapitate one of their own.” He brought up his sword and took a step froward. “Particularly one with such a big mouth as you.”
Ripper snarled and leapt at the demon.
**1 hour later**
Dray’chen roared and brought his sword down so fast it blurred in the air. He roared again when he saw the vampire roll out the way and bring his claws up in a parry, parodying the same thing the demon had done earlier. Ripper lashed out, hitting Dray’chen squarely in the groin. It didn’t do much harm, but at least bought him a moment to roll onto his feet.
The demon and the vampire faced off against each over, both framed by the night sky. Their hour-long dual had taken them into the open, after Dray’chen hurled Ripper through the front doors and up a six-story building. Now they stood on the roof, and after a slight respite began fighting again.
It seemed both of them were evenly matched, which came as a surprise to Dray’chen. He was used to being older and stronger than anything he fought. And yet, despite the fact this vampire had been empowered significantly, he should still be more powerful. He should have been able to crush the vampire without this needless combat.
Dray’chen could only think of one explanation, and that was that he still had not recovered after eight-hundred years into one host. Maybe it was some side effect. But, with any luck, he would quickly recover. Just in time for those old ‘friends’ to pay a visit.
Despite considerable healing abilities on each side, both of them were bleeding, Dray’chen’s green against Ripper’s red.
Whilst getting up, the vampire decided to change tactics. He judged distances and checked the demon’s position. By the time he had got to his feet he had come up with a new plan. Ripper charged at Dray’chen; barrelling into him at waist height. The force pushed the demon back and over the nearby edge, but he grabbed onto Ripper and pulled him over as well. They both went tumbling down to the ground below.
David Parkins stretched his arms as he stepped out of his office onto the street. The bones creaked and popped. Another hard day’s work finished late, but now he was going home. Digging his keys out of his pocket, David thumbed the remote locking on his car.
It was with some shock that he looked on as the car shattered under the impact of two falling bodies. What was even more surprising was that, afterwards, they got back up. Admittedly, it was slowly, but they got up nonetheless.
David was still watching; mouth hanging open, as one of them sliced his head off with a sword.
Dray’chen sneered as he decapitated the rather unfortunate bystander. After losing his sword earlier, he had made sure he kept hold of it during their ‘fall’. He felt sore all over, but the feeling was passing.
When the head toppled from the body, the demon’s eyes widened. *Well, this is interesting,* he thought, turning back to the vampire. Now they would end this.
“Enough!” A new voice cried before the two could begin fighting again. A figure stepped out of the shadows.
Krispin.
“This is more than enough! You both have better people to kill than each other!” he shouted at them.
“I said I respected you. That doesn’t mean I take orders from a vampire,” Dray’chen said, still eyeing Ripper.
“Oh… I’ve got to kill this demon,” Ripper spat, returning Dray’chen’s stare.
Krispin walked straight over to the other vampire and backhanded him savagely. “This demon kills Slayers as easy as you would humans. Blood runs wherever this demon goes. Whole armies have been sent to vanquish him, and this demon has slaughtered them all! This demon is almost as powerful as your gods.”
Dray’chen coughed. Krispin pretended not to hear and continued, “Namely myself and my brothers, and you will give him the respect he deserves! The only reason he hasn’t ended your existence is that he is still suffering the side effects of an almost eight-hundred year incarceration!” The Elder waited until Ripper had got up. “Go back to the hotel. I’ll deal with you later.”
"You will deal with no one,” the younger vampire snapped. He gave Dray’chen a parting snarl, turned and soon had melted into the shadows.
Now Krispin whirled on Dray’chen, who was watching the previous exchange with a faint smile, arms crossed in front of him. “As for you, we freed you from your prison. The least we would expect is that you don’t destroy our offspring. Each and every one is important to us.”
“And for freeing me I am, of course, in your debt,” the demon said, “But, your ‘offspring’ or not, should any lesser creature treat me as he did I will make them suffer the consequences.”
“Do I have to warn you, Dray’chen? Ripper may be one thing, but I can assure you I am quite another. Especially as you are not at your peak performance.”
Dray’chen snorted. “Pah! After that little round of fisticuffs I feel much better.” He rolled his shoulders. “A proper fight would sort me out.”
“I imagine killing that man helped, too?” At Dray’chen’s look, Krispin went on, “Ah yes, I know of that little side effect as well. Dathan told me to tell you - whilst you are still getting the grip, so to speak, of being in control again you will be weak. But each death at your hands will increase your strength again and again until you are back to normal. I imagine you have not felt the same feeling before because you have not been in a similar situation.”
Dray’chen smiled. “Why, thank Dathan for me, for his kindness in letting me know. But now I am twice in your debt. What do you want of me?”
“I have been in conversation with my brothers. We have a… job for you-”
“There’s only one person I take orders from,” the demon interjected. He cocked his head. “And you’re not he.”
“Indeed,” Krispin agreed. “Think, then, of it as a business proposition. We have been allies before. Surely we can be so again?”
“Perhaps. Go on.”
“I am told Dathan has informed you of our plans in LA?” Dray’chen nodded. “Well, let me tell you of stage two…”
As he went on, Dray’chen smiled more and more.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
October 14th
Kate’s house
12:30 am
After taking care of the mburucuyá Alessa drove to Kate’s house. The redhead had given Alessa her address in case she needed help. She had meant help with the flower, but Alessa was going anyway. She just hoped Kate could actually do something for her.
It was very late when she parked in front of Kate’s; she looked at the silent big house and marveled in its beauty. The house windows were closed and dark, and Alessa looked at her watch, doubting. However, she got out of the stolen car she had been driving, walked to the door and rang the bell. At the last minute she realized that she hadn’t changed to her true self.
Kate awoke with a start as the sound of the doorbell rang through the silent household. In her tiredness she almost dismissed the noise as part of a dream until it sounded again. She moaned slightly as she realized someone was at the door and set a bare foot out of the warm bed and onto the icy cold floor.
Galen rolled over with a sleepy groan. “My God,” he moaned frustratedly as he hauled himself out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown, “Who could be calling at this time!?”
“It’s okay honey, I’ll get it,” mumbled Kate as she stumbled around the room looking for her robe.
“Are you kidding?” Galen caught the sleepy form of his wife and directed her back to the bed. “Some weirdo calls in the middle of the night and you want to answer dressed like some underwear model? Stay here, I’ll go.”
Galen hurried down the stairs as the doorbell rang again, and he muttered to himself in annoyance, “Yes… Yes… I’m coming! Gee, this had better be important.”
He flung the door open in irritation, seeing a middle aged blond woman standing on the doorstep. *This had better not be another one of those damn Episcopalians,* he thought tiredly, *I am so not in the market for a new religion.*
“Yes? Can I help you?” he asked briskly, barely hiding his annoyance at being disturbed so late on a night.
Alessa was a little surprised when a big disheveled man opened the door. He looked irritated and she couldn’t blame him. She gave him a shy smile before asking for Kate. The man arched an eyebrow and watched her from head to toe.
“And you are…?” he asked without moving aside, suppressing a yawn.
“Tell her Alessa Hunt wants to talk to her,” she said.
The man nodded, asked her to wait and closed the door again, shaking his head. Galen was about to head back upstairs when he noticed Kate standing at the top of the staircase waiting for him. “It’s some woman, called Alessa Hunt, she said she…”
Before he could get out the rest of the message, Kate had already begun running down the stairs and opened the door. “Sorry about my husband he’s a little-” Kate stopped suddenly at seeing the unfamiliar blond woman standing outside instead of the young Latino she knew as Alessa. She frowned in confusion, studying her carefully, “…Alessa?” she asked warily.
Alessa looked at herself and looked back at Kate, who was watching her with distrustful eyes. She smiled, a little embarrassed. “Don’t worry, Kate. It’s me. Can I go in?” she asked using her real voice; she didn’t want to go back to her true form in the porch.
Kate watched Alessa deep in her eyes; she recognized the voice with her slight Spanish accent, but not the woman. However, she nodded in agreement.
Alessa smiled brightly and stepped in, closing the door behind her. Once inside she quickly returned to her real self. The blond hair grew longer and darker, the eyes changed from blue to green and her limbs contracted to her true 1.60 m. The change was quick, because even if she needed time to get into deep concentration to change to other forms, when it came to getting her own back she did it easily and swiftly, just like getting into her Verbati form. It was only a matter of letting go. When she felt herself again, she looked at Kate, blushing. She had been able to hide her demons’ condition from the woman so far, and she didn’t know how Kate would react to the news.
Kate glanced at Galen who rubbed his eyes in surprise as the woman literally changed form before his very eyes. Kate turned back to Alessa, “That’s some impressive ability you have there.”
She had sensed upon that first meeting in Bibliophile that the woman wasn’t entirely human. *Perhaps a demonic hybrid,* she thought speculatively. What puzzled Kate more was why Alessa had felt the need to change her appearance. She gestured for her guest to follow her as she led the way into the living room and sat down. “Is something wrong? It’s not the Brotherhood is it?”
Relieved by the acceptance she saw in Kate’s eyes, Alessa followed the woman into the living room. “No, it’s not the Brotherhood,” she answered her as she sat in a plush sofa. “It’s… it’s my boyfriend, Chance. I think I mentioned him before.” She bit her lower lip, trying to find the words to express herself. “He… he’s…” she started but couldn’t go on, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
Alessa felt Kate’s hand on hers, reassuring her. And she weakly smiled to the woman. Breathing in, she continued. “Chance has been possessed by a demon,” she said at last, “A very powerful demon, Dray’chen. I need help,” she stated, looking to Kate, a question in her eyes.
Galen shook his head in despair as he listened to the woman’s story; it was always something, someone coming to their home, seeking out Kate for help. Suddenly, from upstairs the sound of a baby crying could be heard. Kate looked up but Galen placed a firm hand on her shoulder, anchoring her in place.
“It’s okay, I’ll see to it. You… need to help your friend.”
Kate smiled gratefully at Galen as he made his exit before returning her attention to Alessa. She didn’t know who this Dray’chen demon was, but it certainly didn’t sound good. She was suddenly reminded of Sorrow’s similar ’predicament’ last year. Binding a demonic possession was never a simple affair. Kate sighed, “How did this happen?”
At Kate’s question, Alessa took Ernie’s books from her backpack. “I don’t know how it happened exactly,” she said, “but he came to my school yesterday and tried to kill me. When I realized he wasn’t Chance, the demon showed himself and gave me his name. Dray’chen.”
She stopped, biting her lip again. “I could escape somehow, and I’ve been disguising myself ever since… he already attacked and almost killed a dear friend of mine. These books are from his library, they mention Dray’chen.”
She started opening the books in the little coffe table, telling Kate what she had learned about the demon, and about his last host, the Templar Knight Matthew. “I believe Chance is really Matthew, although he doesn’t know.”
Alessa told Kate about Chance’s lapses and memory blackouts. Finally she watched the witch with hope in her eyes, “If he really is Matthew, that means that the demon can be imprisoned inside him. This book says that he was bound by a witch before. That’s why I came to you.”
Kate listened quietly while Alessa told her everything about what had happened in the past few days and all that she had discovered not only about the demon Dray’chen but also her lover Chance. In truth, it all made her head spin, as though the current situation with The Brotherhood and Tash’s return from G'rnatha wasn’t bad enough, now they might be dealing with a potential ancient demon.
She could see that Alessa was at her wits' end, hoping that Kate had the answer to her problem. How could she tell her otherwise? Kate forced a weak, reassuring smile, “I’m glad you came to me Alessa,” she said simply, looking through the books that lay spread across the table.
“I have a little experience in binding demonic possession, and from what you’ve said, if this Dray’chen has been imprisoned once before then there’s a good chance we should be able to do it again.”
Alessa almost cried with relief. She didn’t know if Kate would be successful in her attempts but at least she was willing to try. She gave her brightest smile but couldn’t find the words to thank her. Maybe they would be able to help Chance after all.
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Sunday 15th October,
2:33pm,
Alessa's Apartment
The door to Alessa’s apartment burst off its hinges and splintered. Most of it blew several feet before colliding with the sofa.
Dray’chen crossed the threshold, bracing himself for a spell similar to the one he had encountered at Cole’s place. But there was none.
“Honey, I’m home!” he cried, only to hear his voice echo round the apartment. “Honey? Honey?” Dray’chen called, but there was no reply.
Carefully, the demon studied the apartment as he walked through it. There was certainly no sign of a ‘lived in’ feel. There was no new food in the kitchen. Dust was gathering on surfaces. He checked the bedroom, only to find several drawers had been roughly pulled open and clothes hurriedly snatched out.
After spending half an hour searching the whole place from top to bottom, Dray’chen concluded that not only had Alessa not stayed here for a few days, but wherever she had gone, she had taken the flower and all information relating to it with her. In rage, he hefted her coffee table in one arm and threw it at a wall. It smashed and debris fell across the floor.
He couldn’t quite be sure which angered him more, but in the end it came down to the former. Despite his ‘alliance’ with the Brotherhood, Dray’chen really didn’t give a damn about them or Dathan or Ellie or any of their plans. As long as there was something to kill he was happy. So what if Dathan died? Similarly, so what if he lived? They might go on to rule the world, and if they did they would remember how he had aided them, which would surely be worth something. Not that he cared if they didn’t, of course, but it always help to have friends in high places. On the reverse of it, if they didn’t rule the world it would be no skin off his back.
As far as Dray’chen was concerned, the deal they had was mutually exclusive. He got to kill and build up his power without anybody interfering from the over- and underworld, as it was the Brotherhood that effectively ruled the city now, and the vampires got the attention on them shifted away. Other than that, he wasn’t bound to help them in any way.
But it was the fact that Alessa was gone that infuriated him. He now had no idea where she might be, and to find her would require searching all over the city. She might even have left LA by now. Perhaps he should have just killed her, even with all the police there. It wasn’t like they would have been able to stop him after all. That was the last time he satisfied his aesthetics then. Next time, he would just put a bullet through her head and be done with it.
Not now, though. No, first Dray’chen would remind this city and its weak, pitiful human inhabitants that for them, death could come at any time, anywhere. Then he would kill Alessa.
Satisfied, Dray’chen left, going over in his head the campaign of blood and terror he would wreak.
Protective Instincts
Saturday, October 14th 2006
1:22am
Galen sat on the staircase cradling Emma close against his chest as he gently rocked her back to sleep. He had been listening quietly to the conversation between the woman Alessa Hunt and his wife with grave reservation. Once he’d heard the front door close signalling Alessa’s departure he rose from his place on the stair and returned to the living room.
Kate still sat on the sofa looking at some of the books that Alessa had brought from Morris’ library. Completely absorbed in her task, she didn’t notice Galen return until he stood directly in front of her; she looked up, seeing him gently rubbing Emma’s back as the baby snoozed lightly in his arms. Kate smiled and rubbed her tired eyes, gesturing at the scattered books on the coffee table.
“She needs my help.”
“They always do,” said Galen stiffly before sitting down next to her, still holding Emma carefully in his arms. He sighed wearily. It had grown late since their visitor had awaked them and he was desirous to return to bed. However, there were still certain things about Alessa’s plea for help that troubled him greatly.
“I thought her name sounded familiar,” he said, running a hand through his bed-ruffled hair. “She said this Dray’chen came to her school yesterday?”
At Kate’s puzzled look he continued. “I was listening, I heard it all. She works at Centennial High School doesn’t she? It isn’t far from here; I spent the best part of yesterday over there with the S.W.A.T. team. Some guy brought a gun into a schoolroom and threatened a bunch of kids; he killed two cops, shot one and broke the other’s neck. Not content with that he ended up killing another three of the guys from S.W.A.T. before he escaped. It was like a bloodbath over there.”
Galen sighed, “I can’t say that Ms. Hunt was particularly forthcoming with the investigation either. I guess now I know why, if this ‘Dray’chen’ is her boyfriend…”
“He isn’t her boyfriend,” corrected Kate hastily, “Chance is her boyfriend, Dray’chen is some evil demon that’s taken over his body.” Kate shook her head in dismay, “This is like Sorrow all over again.”
“And looked what happened there,” Galen took Kate’s hand in his, “I remember that night, Kate; he nearly killed Inanna, he attacked his friends, then expected your forgiveness six months later.”
Kate sighed tiredly, “What’s done is done. Why are you dragging this all up again?”
“Because,” Galen breathed in deeply, “because I don’t want you going up against this guy. He’s dangerous, a killer, and there’s no reason for you to, anyway. It’s not like you know him and feel obligated to help, not like with our other friends.”
Kate closed her eyes momentarily, letting Galen’s words wash over her. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation and Kate sensed it wouldn’t be the last. “It’s just a binding ritual Galen,” she explained tiredly, “if I don’t help then this Dray’chen could kill a lot of people; you said so yourself, he’s dangerous.”
Galen felt himself growing angry but he fought to hold it down, stroking Emma’s soft hair gently. “What if he hurts you before you have a chance to bind his demon? What if… what if something happens to you?”
“Nothing is going to happen to me!” insisted Kate, growing weary of Galen’s constant interrogations. “I’m careful, I know what I’m doing, I’ve done this sort of thing dozens of times when I was working with the coven.”
“But you aren’t any more,” persisted Galen, rising to his feet and laying Emma into her perambulator. “You don’t work for the Coven of Sindell anymore, you don’t have to keep putting yourself into these kinds of situations anymore. For godssake Kate!” Galen quickly hushed his voice remembering that their daughter was asleep. “You have a baby to look after, you have responsibilities now. I just don’t think that you should continue to rush headlong into these kinds of things any more.”
Kate let a deep sigh escape her lips. She was tired, she wanted to go back to bed, she didn’t want to have to deal with Galen’s insecurities, not again. “In two weeks' time, Galen, we’re going to have to face the entire Brotherhood - four Elders with infinite powers and Gaia only knows what number of followers to protect them. You are going to HAVE to get over this sudden obsession you have to protect me!”
“Obsession? You’re my wife, Kate!” said Galen, his anger erupting ever so slightly. He clenched his fist tightly in an effort to subdue himself. “As your husband it is my duty to protect you!”
“Oh I’m sorry!” said Kate, suddenly sounding flippant as she rose to her feet in annoyance. “I didn’t realise we’d suddenly gone back in time to 1928. Since when did I need someone to protect me? You are my husband Galen, your ‘duty’ is to support me, comfort me, ‘love, honour and cherish’ if you will. Never in any of those vows that we took did it say you suddenly had the right to tell me what I could and couldn’t do!”
Kate gave Galen an angry glare before gently lifting the warm sleepy bundle of baby into her arms and heading upstairs. Galen frowned before following her, waiting outside the nursery until Kate had put Emma back to bed. As she emerged from the room he caught her by the arm, closing the nursery door quietly.
“Look Kate, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But you grew up without your mother around, so you tell me. You want the same for our daughter?”
Kate looked hurt but she also felt angry that he was trying to emotionally blackmail her into doing what he wanted. “What makes my work any different from yours?” she asked firmly, not willing to back down. “I’ve lost count of the nights I haven’t been able to sleep because I’ve been afraid that you might not come home. You may think that it’s the vampires and werewolves and demons that are the only dangerous element out there but I can tell you, I’m more afraid of some psycho with a gun shooting my husband while he’s on one of his ‘routine investigations’ than any of that.”
Kate sighed wearily, taking Galen’s hands in her own. “I know that you love me and want me to be safe. I love you too, and this, this is the best my life has ever been. But you’re not being fair to me,” Kate squeezed his hands reassuringly.
“Maybe you can’t understand what it feels like for me. I’ve been given this gift, this amazing gift and I could just pretend it doesn’t exist. But I can’t, I’ve dedicated my entire life to it and it’s taken me a long time to accept that this is a part of me, it’s who I am.”
Galen frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “No, what you mean is that Luc would understand you because he was a witch, but me… I could never understand what it feels like…”
“Oh Galen!” Kate let go of his hands in exasperation and turned to head towards their bedroom. Once inside she turned back to him. “Do I go on about Cassandra like this? When are you going to stop being jealous of a dead man?”
“Maybe when you stop moaning his name while we’re having sex, yes, I think that might help!”
Kate groaned in annoyance, “I said his name once! Once when we were making love. Are you going to hold that against me forever?!”
Galen smiled shyly, “No. Not forever.” He pulled Kate into his arms before slowly pushing her thin cotton robe back from her shoulders so that it fell in a heap on the floor. “You know what the best part of arguing is?” he asked, bringing her in close to kiss her soft lips.
“Why don’t you tell me?” said Kate, her breath catching slightly as Galen’s firm grip around her waist tightened somewhat, drawing her in closer against his own body.
Galen smiled again, his eyes looking deeply into hers as he resigned himself to the fact that Kate would never change, she would always want to use her ‘gift’ to help people despite the danger and it was just one of the many things about her that made him love her like crazy.
He leaned in closer, wrapping his arms around her and pushing her down on to the bed. “The best part about arguing is… the making up.”
Season Three - July 1, 2006 to Oct 31, 2006
Thursday October 12, 2006
Nikolai's apartment building– 7:23pm
The Monte Carlo rolled into the parking area of the building slowly, trying to avoid the police cars and ambulances. There were few parking spaces visible in the flashing red and blue lighting but it managed to glide into one nonetheless. Outside, two men were talking to each other while enjoying a smoke. Their jackets read CORONER in big white letters.
"You ever see anything like that, Bob?"
"Sheesh, Jack, Why do you always ask me that? You've been doing this as long as I have."
Jack recoiled, "Sor-ry! I mean its not every day you..."
Bob punched Jack to silence his observations as the door to the building opened. A young woman who was old before her time stood there with a tall attractive man with long dark hair and broad shoulders. The attractive man shrugged, "For the third time, Det. Grey - No, I didn't break the door, it was unlocked. I don't know her that well, but I had a bad feeling. When I went inside I found her."
When Nikolai arrived back at the apartment building, he was more than a little curious to see the police cars outside. He felt a twinge of worry that Sabarov had decided to make a move already, then immediately tried to rationalize the fear away. It could really be anything, he told himself. Anything at all… yes, the coroners were there for someone else.
As the door to the Monte Carlo shut, Nikolai adjusted the shades before heading towards the building. He didn’t pay much attention to them, or the two people at the door when he began to deliberately walk over there. *Just try to look like you belong,* he thought to himself. It made you less likely to be stopped, as people were usually unwilling to risk stopping someone who definitely belonged there.
“Excuse me, sir,” the woman said, stopping him from entering. “I’m afraid that we can’t allow any outside visitors in at the moment.”
“I’m not a visitor,” he replied coldly. “I live here. Upstairs, third floor.” There was a flicker of thought in the eyes of the man there, while the woman continued to appear… professional? That was probably the best word for it.
Rachel Grey reached into her pocket and pulled out a list of names of the residents. "What's your name, sir?" she asked politely.
"Makarov," he said simply.
The detective nodded and turned back to the taller man to continue the questioning, but he was now facing the newcomer to the conversation.
"Are you Nikolai? Kolya?" he asked abruptly grabbing the man's arm roughly.
Nikolai pulled away from the man, looking between him and the woman. How did they know? Wait, police. It made sense. "It's possible," he said. *Why, oh why didn't you use Lewis' name?* "Look, I'm sorry. I'm really in quite a rush, so if you could make this as brief as possible..."
Oz grabbed Nik's hand and pumped it enthusiastically, "Nice to meet you, Nikolai, I'm Oz. I've heard so much about you. Listen, we have to get together and talk about... things. I am sure you just want to get home and watch TV though, so I won't keep you. I am downstairs in the last apartment on the left."
Det. Grey watched the exchange as if it was nothing special and Nikolai looked down at his own hand. There was a piece of paper that Oz had palmed to him. It was folded and held together by cat-hair covered cellophane tape.
“All right,” Nikolai said, considering the note. The conversation would, with luck, be short… and it would get him access. Besides, if worse came to worst, Oz could simply ‘disappear’ or suffer an ‘accident’, should he prove a threat. Already he was thinking of the most silent way, the most plausible self-defence story. *Note to self: acquire drop gun.*
He walked silently to the apartment building with him, past the watching detective who took it as one neighbour wanting to deliver bad news to another. “Thank you,” Nikolai said as soon as they got inside. “Now, if you don’t mind, I really have to go.” Turning to leave, he stopped when he felt’s Oz’s hand on his arm again.
Oz could not be open with Nik as long as the Detective was close. It had been Oz's experience that policemen could consider even a veiled clue suspicious. They didn't miss much of anything. "Nikolai, just go home. We will talk later, okay?" He hoped, for Nikolai's sake, he would take a stranger's advice.
Oz watched as Nikolai entered the hallway and did not look back until Detective Grey cleared her throat. "Mr. DeAngelo, let's go through this one more time..."
Nikolai nodded once in thanks, though having about as much intention of following that advice as the sun did of not being composed of gas. He took the steps two at a time as he reached the third floor, then stopped cold in his tracks. And for once in his life, could not keep his cool exterior.
It wasn’t the yellow tape around Zoë’s apartment, or the officer standing outside taking notes that triggered the scream of primal rage as much as it was the body bag. “Now sir, please, just calm down…” the officer was saying as Nikolai tried to push past him.
“No, NO!” he cried at the top of his lungs. “Damnit! What happened?”
“Now, sir, please… just calm down. I gather you knew the deceased?”
Rage began to subside for a moment, as Nikolai practiced old breathing techniques. It began to temper into a cold, hard determination. “I was her lover,” he said softly. “Is… is Ben ok?”
Oz heard as well as felt the anguished cry that echoed back to him outside. He glanced at the detective who gave a barely perceptible nod - permission for him to depart. He ran up the staircase and soon reached the doorway where the uniformed cop was holding Nikolai back as they wheeled the body out from the apartment.
He stepped to the cop's side and although the policeman didn't seem to want the help, he could hear Oz's comforting words repeated over and over, "Nikolai... look at me... don't look at her... eyes on me... look at me."
When after several minutes Nikolai turned to face Oz again, it was with a new sense of purpose. He would find out who was responsible for this, and then he would kill them. Especially if it was Sabarov. Then he turned back to the officer. "I. Want. To. See. Her."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't let you do that."
Nikolai did not wait for him to say anything else, instead spitting on the floor in front of him before heading purposefully down the hall. He failed to open the door to his apartment, and was sorely tempted to kick the thing down. When the lock was undone, he almost took the door off the hinges, letting loose a string of invectives in Russian that would have made even Trigger blush.
The cop shrugged and went back to his duties. He didn't care if the man was in a murderous rage or not as long as it didn't impact his job here and now.
Detective Grey came up behind Oz who was standing looking lost in the hallway. "I may have more questions for you so stick around. Right now, I have to ask someone else some questions."
She walked to the door Nikolai had exited the hallway through and knocked forcibly. "Detective Rachel Gray, Mr. Makarov, can you answer a few questions?"
Nikolai got as far as the bedroom and the briefcase, which he slammed shut, once again concealing the rifle inside. *Focus. You've been through worse before, let them think you're just upset.* When he finally remembered the note, he reopened the briefcase to set that inside, before returning it to its hiding place.
When he came out again and glanced at the still open door, he was surprised the detective did not just enter without being invited. That was something rare. "Da, come in detective." When Detective Grey was in, he offered her a place to sit. "What can I do for you, detective?"
Detective Grey declined to sit, but pulled out her notebook instead. She flipped through a few pages and let the silence settle for a moment before speaking in a clear businesslike voice. "One of the officers told me you were Ms. Taylor's lover. I am sorry you had to find out like this."
Her voice had all the right inflection, and all the right words, but there was not an ounce of caring in her tone. She continued, "The coroner says she was most likely strangled to unconsciousness, and then drowned in the bathtub. The murderer then cut her throat and pulled her tongue back through the hole. This was not an ordinary murder - it was an assassination. Do you know of anyone who might be motivated to kill Ms. Taylor in this manner?"
Nikolai shook his head stiffly, not meeting her gaze. She made a few notes in her pad and continued, "This sort of treatment is often used by gang members to send a message to someone. It's called a 'Russian Necktie'. You are Russian aren't you? Have any connections to the Russian mob?"
She didn't wait for an answer and continued, "Her son, Benjamin, wasn't found. We cannot seem to find any sign of him, but we have a crime scene team in there right now. I will have to ask that you keep my office informed of your whereabouts for the next few days." She dropped her card on his coffee table.
"Can you think of anything that you'd like to add?" she asked and waited patiently with pad and pen.
Nikolai looked at the detective, down at the card, then back to the detective again. An alibi would have to be arranged, that was certain. The longer they were 'informed' the more likely he would be next. "I have a question of my own," he said. Nikolai collapsed into a chair, cursing silently as he - again - punctured it. *I really have to remember these things.* "Will you let me know if you find out anything about Ben?"
Killing his girlfriend was one thing, Nikolai could understand that as a message... but if something happened to Ben, when he found Sabarov he would drag it out three weeks. Even give his old boss a blood transfusion if he had to.
Detective Grey made a note on her pad and looked into Nikolai's face. She softened somewhat - showed tenderness. She really did care but letting it show really hurt sometimes. For just a moment she smiled which lifted years off of her face and said, "Sure. I'll be sure to let you know. It's a good sign when there aren't any signs of struggle or violence. It means they most likely have kept the boy alive."
Slam. The shields came back down as she tucked an errant hair behind her ear and turned off the emotion once again, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Makarov. I'll leave you alone to grieve."
In the hallway, Oz was wandering back and forth aimlessly. The detective touched his shoulder and spoke privately to him, "He's all alone. Best go in now before he does something stupid. And if anything comes out in your time with him, you'll be doing him and all of us a favor by reporting it."
Rachel Grey then stuffed her card into Oz's breast pocket lingering just a nanosecond longer than was necessary. She exhaled slowly and nodded with a curt smile then left the building. The uniformed officer at the door stood guard on Zoë's apartment while the team inside continued measuring hairs and counting dust particles.
Oz knocked on Nik's door. Nikolai had stumbled back to his room long enough to at last take a look at the note that had been left. He read it over several times, only confirming his suspicions. The knocking barely registered, when he shoved the paper back into the pocket to head to the door.
*If that detective is back, I'm going to scream.* Instead, he opened to find Oz outside.
"What?" Screw politeness. The sooner he got out of there, the sooner he could get to revenge.
Oz pushed Nikolai back into the room and closed the door. *Screw politeness,* he thought, *I have to break through this man's grief to get his attention.*
"Nikolai, I have got to talk to you. First - I don't know where you've been, but this," he said, grabbing the spike at Nikolai's elbow, "is not going to be easy to explain to police. I can help you run interference. Next - I saw what they did to her. I have some experience with otherworldly terror and generally it's more straightforward. Only humans do this to their own kind. You are in danger, and so is Ben. Lastly - I have the cat down in my apartment. I'll keep an eye on him for the time being. The note I gave you was taped to him. It must be your cat because it was lying outside your apartment. I thought it was dead at first, but it was more likely drugged."
Oz stopped talking with a clomp of his mouth. He didn't mean to let it all run out like that but he could not think of any other way to say what he had to say. He briefly considered the thought that he might have overloaded the poor man's brain.
But then he really looked at him and could see the glow of his eyes behind the shades and the points of the spikes that protruded from his joints. *This is not the first shock this man has had recently,* Oz realized.
Nikolai blinked in surprise at how direct Oz was - and almost wished he'd brought Damen with him. Having some back-up would be nice if things got bad, though given the nature of his backup he was more likely to be the reason things went bad. "I need a drink," he said, turning towards the kitchen.
Something seemed wrong, almost too coincidental. Someone offering out of the blue to run interference - it stank to him. It was damn near like a routine he'd once tried to use in the early days on people who really didn't know any better. A moment later he was facing Oz again, his pistol out and aimed squarely at his head. "Two minutes. I'll either have a reason to trust you or your brains on the wall, and quite frankly, I don't care which at the moment."
Ozimandius lamented the loss of trust in this new world, but he could appreciate Nikolai's position. He wasn't sure how it would play but he figured he had nothing to lose. He opened his arms wide, dropped to his knees and closed his eyes. In Russian he said, "Nikolai Makarov, I trust you. My life is at your feet. You can trust me or kill me but I have no sin that would make me regret going to heaven this day."
Nikolai pulled back the hammer on the pistol, cocking it with an audible click. "Let's start with your offer. People don't just offer to 'run interference' with the police, not without an ulterior motive. Especially not for a total stranger. So, why?"
Oz spoke with passion, "The great rabbi taught, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,' but that's not what you want to hear. You want me to tell you I have something to gain by helping you, don't you? Well I don't. Plain and simple it beats hanging around the bars looking to pick a fight, and it sucks to be alone.
"From the moment I saw you I saw the most alone person I've seen since I looked in the mirror this morning. You love someone and they die. You get close to people and they pull away. You change whether you want to or not and all it does is make you more isolated. 'No man is an island,' Kolya. It means we help each other or we are doomed to sink beneath the waves. Now, where is that drink? I need one."
There were several possibilities, Nikolai decided as he lowered his weapon. Oz was sincere; he was certifiably mad; or he was simply the best actor Nikolai had ever run across in the business.
"I'm actually out," he said, removing the shades. Maybe the eyes were worth something for intimidation, but Oz didn't seem fazed by them in the least. "You look pathetic, get off the damn floor."
When Oz had finally - thankfully - shifted to a chair, Nikolai sat down across from him. "Tell me, did you read the note at all?"
Ozimandius replied carefully, "Yes, it was how I knew your name. It was clearly meant for you alone. I went into her apartment only after I found it and called the police from there."
There was a long silence while they sat awkwardly. "I have a bottle of Jack Daniels downstairs. Want to see your cat?" Oz asked.
Nikolai silently debated with himself whether or not trusting or just executing Oz would be the bigger risk in the long run. At last he started to move to put his sidearm away, Oz's lack of relief the final signal that perhaps he could trust him. Nikolai nodded silently, following Oz back downstairs to the first floor.
In the easy chair lay the familiar form of Tolstoy. Upon seeing Nikolai, the cat looked up at him, blinked, then bolted across the floor towards him before jumping into his arms. He held the cat close to him as he closed his eyes, finally letting tears go. Zoë and Ben both loved the cat dearly. Nikolai sat, silently crying as the cat continued to purr.
Oz poured drinks and set the glass on the small table next to the chair. Oz sat on the only other chair in the house, a stiff-backed dining chair. He regretted the spartan accommodations, but he had little use for furniture or comforts. He had spent a bit extra on the television, though. In the last forty years he had come to enjoy watching and learning from the miraculous device.
Nikolai was still wary, but it was clear that the cat's easy acceptance of the hospitality, spartan or not, had smoothed some of the edge off the tension. Oz took a risk and broke the silence, "So, now what?"
Nikolai thought carefully. Already a plan was forming. He hated having to trust a stranger, but there was something about Oz that inspired it in him. Tolstoy settled down on his lap, his friend's outburst coming back to him. *No, I'm not the interdimensional James Bond - just the villain.*
"Are you serious about wanting to help?" Nikolai held up his hand to cut off Oz before he answered. "Before you say yes, you have probably figured that I did not tell the Detective anything. Mario Puzo called it the omertà, the law of silence." That, he figured, should be enough to make it clear to Oz that he was about to enter into dangerous territory and that breaking the omertà could prove hazardous to his health.
Oz knew of the omertà from his days as an angel. He had seen the horrors as well as the good that came from secrets. He had a few secrets of his own. "Omertà it is. I did not tell the Detective everything either. I did not tell her about the note or that you had been missing for months. Although, knowing Zoë, she put out a missing persons' report on you. It's unfortunate you have chosen now to make your return."
Nikolai continued to think. "Now, two months from now... it would all be the same. I need to 'disappear' again, until I find someone. Word on the street should be that I'm dead soon." He sighed. "Unfortunately, Detective Grey could be a problem. I need an alibi if they decide to come looking for me at any time."
Ozimandius rubbed his breast pocket where Detective Grey had put the card. "I may be able to help there," he said.