***WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 1 2006 – The Order of Valor HQ, South Pasadena***
It had taken Aimes Carmichael a long time to find this, the secret headquarters of The Order of Valor's infamous 'Five'. Aimes had to hand it to them, as he stood in the generic looking kitchen of the suburban bungalow, it was the last place he had thought to look for the motley crew of demons.
In fact he chuckled to himself, feeling a slight flutter of excitement shudder through his body at the thought of what was about to come. Alaric was a wily demon, it took such character traits to survive as long as he had.
Alaric tossed the last of several different changes of clothes in a suitcase before shutting it and moving it out to the hall. Disappearing for a few weeks or months seemed like a prudent move to him. Even though the chances of them finding his headquarters were unlikely, it was not a chance to be taken at this juncture. There were just too many variables, people looking for revenge - such random displays of emotion were difficult to predict.
He moved through the house collecting various weapons, and stopped when he thought that he heard something. Reaching behind his back he pulled out a six inch dagger with which to defend himself if anyone was present. When he saw the man - or rather, demon in glamour - he relaxed a bit and put the weapon away. "Carmichael, you devious scoundrel. I was wondering when you would try to get in touch with me ever since I heard the Ministry was in LA."
Aimes smiled widely. *Trust Alaric to see through such facades,* he thought without worry. "I’ve been a bad host I know, I should have called on you sooner but I got the impression you were busy. I, as always, am in no hurry.”
He eyed the demon's suitcase with speculation. "Going somewhere, Alaric?" Carmichael took several steps towards his demonic acquaintance; several centuries of bad blood ran between them. More specifically it ran between their opposing organisations but all that was beside the point. "I should really congratulate you on your latest coup. Brilliant work old man, simply brilliant."
"Thank you, Carmichael. I can't tell you how much your approval pleases me." The sarcasm was quite evident in Alaric's voice, since both knew that they had a simple arrangement. The Order and the Ministry stayed out of each other's way, and they got along fine after that. "If you will pardon me, however, I have something of a trip to make. These things are always a mess when we have to become directly involved."
"Don't tell me you're afraid of those mortals!" laughed Aimes, unable to control his mirth. "My, how the mighty have fallen when the great Alaric is driven out of town by a rag-tag bunch of vampire hunters."
Carmichael pulled out a chair and offered it to the orange demon before sitting down in a chair himself. "I have a proposition for you my friend something I think you might be interested in. I'm afraid your trip might have to wait, though."
Alaric preferred to remain standing, since he was not about to allow someone else to dictate when he would sit down in his own house. "You have not been watching this 'rag tag group of hunters' for the past two years. I have." He held out a finger as he ticked off accomplishments. "Thus far to my knowledge they have killed an Ancient Vampire, an Elder Vampire, prevented the return of a Dark Goddess, and successfully battled a splinter-group lead by an Elder of Sindell." He sighed. "At the very least, however, I can listen to your offer."
Carmichael smiled cordially as Alaric propped himself against the breakfast counter, deliberately ignoring the chair he had offered. "It would be a grave mistake on your part if you continued to believe that the Ministry's interest in this little situation you have here in Los Angeles is in any way less comprehensive than your own. The Ministry is always-"
"Always watching and always waiting, yes I know," said Alaric with a roll of his eyes, "After the past three centuries I think you should get yourselves a new motto!"
Carmichael decided not to rise to the bait set out by Alaric; the two demons had many differences but now was a time to unite for a common cause. "Patience is a virtue," he said simply in response, “I think you of all people would appreciate that. But I didn't come here to compare company philosophy, Alaric, but to offer you an opportunity. What if I said that a great battle was approaching? One that would be the ultimate fight against good and evil."
Alaric stopped at that. The Ministry was far from religious, but that did not mean the metaphors did not stick. And it was obvious to anyone who was long-lived that humans and demons would one day fight a last war for survival. That was the reason he called this time by the Norse name 'Ragnarok' - it was the time of a final battle, between the Gods and the Etins. "I would say that this battle has been approaching for a long time."
Aimes looked satisfied that his words had such an effect on the demon. It would all work to his advantage if he was going to ensure The Order of Valor's complete and unequivocal co-operation in the coming months.
"I believe that day to be fast approaching, the Ministry are certain of it. We would like your co-operation in assuring our mutual place in such a battle when it finally does occur. We need to stand together in this; there is no other way. Not if we are all to survive." The man straightened out his tie and held a hand out in front of himself, admiring the perfect manicure. "Humans are so fickle, their appearances, so vain. Not one will ever see this coming and they'll be powerless to stop it." He looked up, their eyes locking for a moment. "We have plans..."
Alaric was impressed, but not without some concern. He saw no reason to rush the end of the world, since it would come in time. But he could also smell the opportunity. "People always have plans," he said. "Suck the world into hell, burn it in fire, reassemble ancient artefacts. Someone is always seeing it coming.”
He held up a hand to cut off Carmichael's protest before it even started. "However, the Ministry does have enough resources that perhaps you might be able to pull it off when someone does try to stop you. Which raises the question: why do you need my help?"
Aimes could sense Alaric's reserve but it didn't concern him. All that mattered was that he co-operated, Aimes needed him on side rather than stoking the fires of the opposition. This latest situation with the Brotherhood had only made that fact all the more poignant.
"You have influence, contacts - you know the lay of the land, as it were. This is also something that concerns you. If you're really interested in Survival of the Fittest, what better way to find out just who that is?" Aimes cleared his throat, rising to get a glass of water from the kitchen sink. "For obvious reasons the Ministry's presence in Los Angeles cannot be known at this moment, therefore we require someone else to perform certain 'errands' for us in the meantime."
"And of course, you also get a front man if that 'rag tag group of hunters' discovers what is going on." Carmichael did not even flinch when this was said; though that was certainly part of the thought process. "I'm not stupid, you know. Perhaps you should tell me what sort of 'errands' we are talking about."
"I think you'll find them simple enough," he laughed briefly, "and don't worry about this so-called resistance. I can promise you they'll have more pressing matters to attend to; I doubt they will even notice what's going on right under their noses."
He took another sip from his glass of water. "Why Alaric, I think you might even have fun in all of this, give you a chance to get out of your Ivory Tower and back to grass roots. I can tell you, these last few months have been an inspiration for me, London is such a drab little city this time of year." Aimes could tell Alaric was growing impatient though, time to reel in the subterfuge. "If you're interested I think we can arrange some sort of recompense for your time and effort... why don't you unpack and we can discuss this further?"
The demon thought about the offer carefully, his final consideration that Carmichael felt he needed the demon's help bad enough to track him down at his own headquarters. Still, there would be precautions to be taken. "Very well, Carmichael,” he said finally. “Let's do that."
With much thanks to Adam for writing the part of Alaric
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The House That Jack Built - Part Two
THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT – PART TWO
Saturday, 20 January 2007 - 10:45pm
The Eldridge House on Birch Street
Jack watched with silent approbation as Galen helped Kate sit down before going into the kitchen to get her a cup of tea. She was English after all; sometimes it seemed as though her answer to curing all the world’s ills could be found in a cup of tea.
Once Galen had gone he sat down next to his daughter, “So now, tell me what happened?” he asked nervously. He’d only had a few sketchy details as they’d come home from the restaurant and found himself anxious to know exactly what had transpired that evening.
Kate sighed tiredly, she was feeling a bit drained from the battle with… well whatever those beasts had been. “To be honest Jack I don’t know, it all happened so quickly and ended the same way… One minute Galen and I were having a nice dinner with Nikolai and Alicia and the next these beasts just sort of appeared and started ransacking the place. You know what Los Angeles is like, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised…”
Jack watched Kate’s face tightly, searching for anything that might tell him more. It wasn’t just that he was suspicious by nature but… well he’d heard little from The Ministry since his last report on the White Hats back in December; before that it had been the night Carmichael had come for the sample of Kate’s blood he had taken for them. Strange as it seemed he was always more wary when they didn’t contact him than when they were… it usually meant they were up to no good and this occurance at the restaurant had their mark all over it. Just like the incident back in November.
***Flashback – 15 November 2006 – 1:30am – The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge***
Kate had already fallen asleep as Jack sat by her side, waiting. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, betraying his loved ones and possibly putting them in the path of untold danger and all for an organisation he had resigned from almost twenty years ago. ‘Doing the right thing’ had never seemed so wrong.
Jack carefully took Kate’s hand; she’d been woozy for a while before quickly slipping into her drug-induced slumber. Since then she hadn’t stirred once, if he was going to complete his ‘task’ then now was the time. He removed the small pen device from his jacket and turned Kate’s hand over so as to find a softer area of flesh from which to extract the sample.
He quickly pushed the tapered end of the device against the ball of her thumb and pressed the button firmly. He held his breath and Kate’s thumb twitched involuntarily as a tiny needle penetrated her skin and then disappeared back into the device, taking a sample of her blood with it.
Jack removed himself from the couch, replacing the device in his jacket pocket as he watched Kate slumber. She murmured something incomprehensible, moving more comfortably in her sleep before settling. He lifted her legs up on to the couch and covered her with a throw, brushing her hair away from her face gently. Jack gazed down at her, a forlorn look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry Kate…” he whispered softly.
“Pretty girl, isn’t she?”
Jack spun around; his eyes wide with anger at the familiar voice.
“I have to admit,” said Aimes, with a smug grin, “she gives me a warm feeling deep in my… heart.”
In one quick motion, Jack grabbed a hold of Carmichael’s shirt and shoved him backward until his hide hit the wall. There he held him with firm determination. “I don’t want you in this house EVER! Do you understand me?”
Aimes smiled down at his adversary, laughing at his uncontrollable anger. “You do amuse me Jack, how long have we known each other and still we play the same games? I come to you, you threaten me and I put you back in your place. Time and time again. When are you going to learn to just shut up and do your job?”
Jack’s eyes glowed with rage. This man had just made him betray his own daughter, solicited him to spy on her friends. If only he could kill him now, if only he had the power…
“You want to kill me, don’t you Jack?” asked Aimes with curiosity, staring deeply into his eyes. “You tried that earlier and it didn’t exactly work out then did it?”
Slowly, Jack released his hold on Aimes. “Get out. If you need me from now on you contact me some other way. Like I said, I don’t want you to even step foot inside this house.”
Aimes straightened out his shirt and grinned, “Just give me what I came for Jack, the sample…” He held out his hand, casting a triumphant eye at the red-haired woman laying fast asleep on the couch. “I trust everything went according to plan?”
Jack pushed the man out of the living room; just the way he looked at Kate, his eyes raking over her frail mortal body, made his own flesh crawl in disgust. He handed him the device then pointed at the door. “You have what you want, now leave.”
“You don’t want to introduce me to your family? I’m quite intrigued to see just whom you sold your soul to protect…”
Jack’s face contorted into one of pure rage and vehemence. “Get… out.”
Aimes took the device and placed it in his inside pocket with an air of finality. It was all he wanted, annoying Jack was just an interesting bonus. “All you had to do was ask… I’ll call you… let you know what we find out. I think you’ll be interested.”
***End of Flashback***
11:36pm – A Derelict Apartment Block, East Los Angeles
Jack glowered as he stepped out of the cab and paid the driver. The cabbie must have sensed his violent mood as he drove off with such force that he nearly ripped the passenger door from its hinges as he passed an oncoming pickup. He’d left Kate and Galen at home, feigning some excuse about needing to check in with a client before heading to this desolate part of Los Angeles with revenge on his mind.
The tall grey building towered above him as he looked up, his fearsome, steely eyes casting a malevolent gaze upon its structure before he headed inside.
Carmichael stood in the stairwell, emerging from its protective darkness before Jack had so much as got his first foot on the bottom stair. “You found us Jack? I’m impressed.”
Jack shot daggers at the man, turning slowly on the spot to face him. “You know me Aimes… I’m an expert at my job especially with the right motivation.”
“And what might that be?”
“You know what it is…” said Jack, maintaining his austere exterior as Aimes took several steps closer, placing a large threatening hand on the iron banister. “We had a deal. I watch the White Hats, you leave my daughter and her family out of whatever your plans are.”
“Did we not abide by that deal?” Carmichael asked sweetly, his innocent smile betrayed by the roguish gleam of malice in his eyes.
The demon’s words ignited the spark of anger that had been festering inside Jack for the past few hours since his daughter had returned home from her disastrous night out. He lunged at Aimes, using his own demonic strength to shove the other across the hallway into the opposite wall.
“You said you wouldn’t harm her!” he growled angrily, grabbing hold of Carmichael’s jacket and screwing it up in his fists as he held him firmly against the wall.
Aimes laughed fleetingly, he was used to the man’s sudden bursts of impassioned anger. If anything they only served to amuse him further. Violence was such a primitive urge; it reminded him of where Jack’s ancestry lay, firmly with the beast. “Please, Jack!” he laughed jovially, “You need to learn how to control that temper of yours. It’ll get you into some serious trouble one of these days…”
“SHUT UP!” Jack barked, throwing the man across the narrow room and watching him scramble on the floor. He walked towards him menacingly, “I warned you what would happen if you hurt her…”
“Yeah well the rules have changed Jack,” Carmichael spat as he pulled himself up from the floor. “You served your usefulness now all bets are off!”
Jack halted his advancement, eyeing the man warily, “Just what do you mean by that?”
“What did you think would happen, Jack? That we would continue to have these little moments? As much as I enjoy you kicking my arse on a monthly basis I think I’ll live without it.” At Jack’s blank look he continued, “I’m cutting you out Jack, you’re no longer on the inside in this. Be thankful you can have that clear conscience you’ve always wanted.”
Jack could feel himself falling. Inside it was like he’d stepped off a whirl-a-gig, he was suddenly all at sixes and sevens without a clue as to which way to turn. “Just leave my family alone,” was all he could manage to say.
Aimes laughed again, straightening out his tie and jacket. “Why don’t you just leave? You’re pitiful. Have been ever since I can remember. Sure, you were all muscle and moxie once, but still… You’re too polluted by your humanity. Plagued by conscience. As for your family… well, you might want to keep a closer eye on them in the future.” He leaned in suddenly, his voice quiet but menacing, “I know I will be…”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
7 Feb
Nikolai found himself walking down a familiar street in the city, as snow fell from the air. He remembered the time and the day quite well. That day was etched in his mind forever, the day that changed his life. School was out, and he walked towards home going down the streets of Leningrad. The town had undergone a number of name changes, and would go over another one later.
He stopped outside the small townhouse where he grew up, walking the same path he had years ago. This day… it had effectively changed his life. Walking up the stairs, his legs felt heavy as he walked through the dream. Things seemed more real this time than they ever had before, as he opened the door… “Ma, I’m home,” he heard himself say in the darkened house. Probably yet another problem the state was having.
Nikolai tried to stop himself, but couldn’t. “Mom?” he said quietly, hearing the sound of sobbing. On impulse, he reached up to flick on the light switch… and felt the same horror that he felt so long ago when he first saw his mother on the floor, crying, the bruises from a fresh – and terrible – beating apparent.
Sitting up in bed and breathing heavily, Nikolai took a minute or two to compose himself. *Thank god,* he thought. It was just a dream, admittedly not one he had happen in a long time. Reaching over next to the bed he picked up a glass of water to drink, unaware of the figure standing silently behind him.
Mid-drink, he stopped at the sound of a voice behind him. “Not a pleasant memory, is it?” Elim Garak once again stood near the bed, telling Nikolai that he was continuing to dream – or at least in that same dream-like state as before.
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed as he focused on the man, alien, whatever, standing before him. “What are you doing here? And who are you really?”
“Oh, we’ve been over all of that before, haven’t we?” Garak seemed a bit too sure of himself, and Nikolai realised that this would be the only answer he got. “It’s just an observation, mind you, about your home life. Alexander was never the ideal father, was he?”
The memories returned of drunken stupors and beatings. A level of alcoholism that should not be allowed to exist, and wondering how his mother could have ever loved that drunk. Especially to have loved him enough to voluntarily go to Siberia with him when the Secret Police came. “That’s an understatement.”
“It’s too bad about Ludmilla, but then, you couldn’t have known she would leave with Alexander.” Garak’s smile was the same devious one that said he knew more about what was going on than he was letting on. Nikolai still felt the guilt rise up inside him again, the anger. He never would have done it if he knew that ultimately it would not have prevented Alexander from harming his mother again.
“I, I didn’t have the strength to do it myself,” he said simply. “But the Committee… I knew they would.”
“So you arranged his denunciation to the KGB.” Garak’s face was unreadable, but it did seem to suggest a strange mixture of both curiosity and pride. “That did show a good bit of ingenuity for which you are to be commended. But really, you could kill the man who denounced but not your father?”
Nikolai stopped in the dream, sitting down on the bed. He knew that he shouldn’t have done it, the killing. That he was changing his life. That was when the Committee came for him as well, when he first met Lavrenti Sabarov. “There was no other way.”
“Oh, there were other things you could have done, Kolya,” pointed out Garak, moving around the bed to sit next to him. Suddenly the scene shifted, and both were sitting in chairs, facing each other.
“No, I couldn’t,” he shook his head, as the possibilities occurred to him, and realised exactly why he’d done it then. He had hated that man, wanted to see him dead. Guilt that he shouldn’t have, came up. “She wouldn’t have left him, never.”
“And that’s what really bothers you, isn’t it? Knowing that not even a trip to the gulags and the all but certain guarantee of death was enough to keep her away from him.” Nikolai could not take it any more, breaking down and beginning to weep. The most disturbing thing was that Garak, whatever he was, was right.
“I never would have done it if I’d known,” he choked out. When he stopped long enough, he looked up at the face of the man sitting across from him. “Why?”
Garak did not answer directly. He only gave one of those smiles of his. “Do you really think you’re the same man as you were so long ago, Kolya? Think about that.”
Again Nikolai sat up in bed, breathing heavily. This time he made it a point to look around. Mr. Garak was gone, and he was alone again. He shook his head slowly, remembering that difficult time about his past. The incident stayed on his mind for the rest of the day.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***December 13 2006 11:30 pm***
**Mondrian Hotel, penthouse suite**
Introducing Kelly Brook as Vanessa Best
“So what do you want me to do?” the young lady's body language was very flirtatious towards the hooded man.
“My dear Vanessa, your female charm is wasted on me. I have no interest in you at all.” The man was looking around the hotel room, “I must say you have very expensive taste.”
“I like to live well, if that’s what you mean.” Vanessa was obviously disgruntled at her unusual lack of success with the gentleman. “Well, what do you need me to do?”
“I need you to get something for me, a trinket if you will.” The man pulled out a photograph from his jacket, “The amulet around his neck, that’s what I want you to get for me.”
“Sounds easy enough,” She took the photograph and went to turn away.
“Not so fast my dear, this man is different. You won’t be able to use your…” the man eyed her up and down with a smile “…skills, he is not like most men. you will have to take this by force. I chose you because you seem to be able to get co-operation from the most unlikely of sources.” he looked at the two large vampires standing by the door.
“Yes they are dears, aren’t they?” Vanessa walked over and circled one of the vampires, stroking his face, “They do whatever I ask.”
“Here’s the address. Watch him, follow him, and when the time is right kill him and bring me the amulet.” The man's voice had now became venomous and bitter, “DO NOT fail me my dear, it is in both our interests that you bring that amulet safely to me.”
The man's tone shook Vanessa but she managed not to show it as she made her way back over to him. “If force is all that’s needed why don’t you get the amulet yourself?” she said somewhat mockingly. “You have enough resources at your disposal.”
“My organisation can not be seen to have any part of this,” the man was clearly losing patience, “Just do as I have asked and you will be rewarded. Goodnight, my dear.” The man's cloak swung around his body as he left the hotel room.
“Well boys, looks like we got a little work to do.” A smile filled her face as she fell sideways into a chair and took a sip of champagne. She held up the photo. “Poor boy, he won't know what’s hit him.”
**Jeet’s apartment**
Jeet had spent the last two weeks working with Toni and Evie, learning to harness the amulet's powers. He had now mastered all five of the symbols though the centre symbol was still a mystery to him. Although he was still left drained after using the amulet he was now able to utilise its powers for longer periods and he recovered a little quicker.
The three of them had bonded very quickly over the last couple of weeks and were rarely separated. Toni spend most of his spare time at Jeet’s apartment, Jeet helped Toni teach at the dojo, and Evie and Jeet were almost never apart. He had even started to teach her self defence.
Jeet had almost forgotten about Whistler's visit. There had been no sign of danger of any sort, but every time he started to relax it was always there at the back of his mind, that something, anything could happen.
Jeet and Evie returned from Toni’s dojo; as Jeet opened the door he noticed a note on the floor and for a second his heart sank. He picked up the note and let out a breath of relief.
“Who’s it from?” asked Evie as she tried to look over Jeet’s shoulder at the note.
“It’s from Tash, you know, the woman who gave me this apartment. She’s having a ’get together’ with a few friends soon, she wants me to come.” Jeet didn’t want to worry Evie, but he guessed it was about forming the group Tash had referred to as the White Hats. He knew Evie, and Toni for that matter, would think he had enough going on without adding anything else to his life.
“That’ll be nice, well I’m shattered so I’m off to bed. See you in the morning.” Evie stretched up and kissed Jeet’s cheek.
Jeet slumped onto the sofa and smiled to himself as he touched his cheek where he had just been kissed. He read through Tash’s note again, *Maybe someone will be able to help.* He laid the note on the table and settled down into the sofa. Within minutes he was asleep, his hand still resting on his cheek.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***Saturday 20 January 2007, 10:15 pm**
**A car park, West Alhambra**
Jeet and Evie were making their usual walk back from Toni’s dojo to Jeet’s apartment. It had been a rather uneventful evening; most of Toni’s students were away at a training camp so the few that remained weren’t really that focused and had been sent home by Toni with a few stern words about commitment and concentration.
The pair had been walking in silence since they left the dojo, until eventually Evie stopped. “What’s the matter, Jeet? You haven’t been yourself all evening,” she said, the concern evident on her face.
*How do you know I haven’t been myself, you hardly know me?* Jeet resisted saying it out loud, he knew she was just worried about him. “It’s nothing, honestly.”
“You’re not a very convincing liar.” Evie sat on a nearby bench and gestured Jeet to join her, “Come on, tell me. What’s the matter?”
Jeet joined her on the bench and sat silently for a moment or two. “It’s silly really, it’s just the waiting.”
“The waiting? Waiting for what?” Evie looked at Jeet perplexed.
“The waiting for something to happen. It’s been almost a month since meeting you and Whistler and nothing’s happened. I know I shouldn’t but I wish something would happen, it can’t be any worse than the things I’m imagining day in day out.” He looked towards Evie for some reassurance but was surprised to see signs of anger.
“Don’t be so stupid and selfish, maybe nothing's going to happen. Maybe I was wrong, maybe Whistler was wrong.” She was visibly upset, “Don’t ever wish something would happen just because you’re worried something might.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound like that, it’s just that i'm tired of looking over my shoulder all the time, and I worry about you and Toni.” He took one of Evie’s hands in his own. “I won't think about it like that any more, I promise.”
The smile returned to Evie’s face, “Well make sure you don’t.” She squeezed Jeet’s hand as she rose from the seat. “Come on, let’s get back. It’s getting cold.”
As they crossed the end of the car park two figures stepped out from the shadows.
“I think it’s time.” The moonlight lit up Vanessa’s face.
“Now?” the gruff voice of the vampire next to her replied.
“No my dear, tomorrow will be fine, we can wait till then.” She turned and went back into the shadows. “Come on, it’s not safe out here.” The pair’s laughter faded as they disappeared against the background of the night.
**Jeet’s apartment 11:00pm**
Jeet dropped his keys onto the sideboard and went into the kitchen. “Listen, I’m sorry about before, it’s just… it’s hard not knowing.”
“I understand, but you can’t let it worry you.” Evie walked into the kitchen, “You're not alone, you have me and Toni. It will be fine, I promise.”
“I know, I was just being silly.” Jeet returned to the living room and sat down. “Are you staying up, or are you off to bed?”
“I’m going head to bed if that’s ok.”
“Of course, I’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.” Jeet raised his hand and waved her to bed. “Go on, you look shattered.”
Jeet pondered whether to watch television for a while but decided to try and get to sleep. After a few minutes he was fast asleep.
Jeet found himself back on the outskirts of the village again, the children playing just as they had been before. As he walked into the village a small girl ran up to him, and Jeet lowered himself down on one knee.
“Hello again,” beamed the child, “It’s nice that you’ve come to visit again.”
“You’re mina aren’t you?” Jeet enquired.
“Yes I am, I’m glad you remembered me,” the little girl giggled, but then her smile disappeared.
“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” The worried look on the girl's face made him feel uneasy.
“They’re coming for it, they’re coming for it tomorrow.” The girl's face was a mixture of worry and anger but her voice still carried its childlike naivety.
“Who’s coming? Coming for what?” Jeet prayed that the girl wouldn’t disappear again as she had in their previous meeting before he had found out what she meant.
“The bad people, the ones ‘she’ saw, they want your necklace.” The girl went to turn and run away.
“Don’t go, what can I do? I don’t know what to do.”
The girl's face was full of smiles again as she began to skip away. “Ask the necklace, it will tell you what to do.” The girl skipped off down the path singing, but she stopped and turned around once more. “Come and see me again soon.”
Jeet woke up sweating. He sat up, took a deep breath and closed his eyes. *Here goes...* He concentrated as hard as he could, *Show me what I have to do, show me.* Jeet’s back arched and his pupils misted over as the amulet showed him what he had asked.
After a few minutes Jeet’s body relaxed, and after his strength had returned he went over to the telephone.
“Toni, yes it’s me. Listen, it’s time, I know what I have to do.” His voice was firm and resolute. “No, not now. Tomorrow. I need to prepare. Evie and I will meet you at your dojo tomorrow night, I’ll explain it all then. Toni… It’s ok… listen… Toni just listen, it will be fine, don’t worry, it’s time to finish this once and for all!”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***Sunday, 21 January 2007 - 9:10pm***
**A car park in West Alhambra**
“Are you sure about this, Jeet? There must be another way.” The concern was evident in Toni’s voice and Evie looked like she was about to burst into tears.
“It’s the only way, this has to end tonight.” Jeet was determined to get his own way and he wasn’t going to be swayed by anybody. “There isn’t much time, they’ll be coming for it soon. I don’t know how much time I’m going to need so just try and keep them away from me.” Jeet looked over at Evie; her head was slumped. “Toni… make sure she stays safe.”
Although he wasn’t at all happy about what was about to happen Toni nodded in agreement. Jeet made his way into the centre of the car park. *Here goes.*
Jeet closed his eyes and cleared his mind of everything. For a few minutes it appeared that nothing was happening, but as Toni and Evie stood watching Jeet’s amulet began to rise around his neck until it was floating in mid air. The concentration on Jeet’s face was all to evident as the amulet began to shake, slowly at first, but then more intensely. Evie moved forwards towards Jeet but was pulled back by Toni.
“Leave him Evie, he needs to do this.” His voice was firm but kind.
The amulet stopped shaking and for a few seconds there was nothing; no movement, no sound, nothing. Suddenly a grey mist shot out from the amulet and floated in the air about twenty feet above Jeet’s head. His eyes were still closed, his arms out by his sides stretched tense. Toni stared at the mist it was taking some sort of form, it was a dragon. It circled the air above Jeet slowly and steadily, then another jet of mist appeared and another dragon began cycling Jeet’s head.
Before Toni had chance to comprehend what was happening something caught his attention in the distance; there were two figures walking nearby. Toni braced himself for a fight but as he strained his eyes he recognised one of the figures, it was a woman from Jeet’s apartment building – Tash.
“He’s come along so much in the last few weeks, really it’s quite amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it…” Kate smiled through the darkness of the night as she and Tash walked along the dimly lit streets of Alhambra. Tash had called her two nights ago arranging to head out to a nice little coffee house on Alhambra’s west side which was where they were walking to now.
Though they had talked about other things it was obvious that Tash’s concern had been directed mostly at Nikolai and her tutelage in his new empathic abilities. Kate was actually relieved for it to be out in the open, she’d not felt right mentioning it at any of the White Hat meetings. It just felt too personal to be in the public domain until Nikolai himself wanted it so, but she’d also hated keeping it a secret from Tash; she was a close friend of Nikolai’s after all. Although she didn’t know their entire relationship (much of it had been revealed during that initial merging process) she got the feeling that they were particularly close.
“There’s a lot more work to do, mostly practising I guess but I think he’ll be okay with it… actually I think what L’Than did has helped him, she’s probably saved his soul after all.”
Tash gave a wry smile. “We used to talk a lot – before G’rnatha – about the morality of taking life, both human and demonic. I have to say, his tune has certainly changed now. So far she seems to have been good for him, but I worry. We’ve both seen cases where these sorts of ‘possessions’ get out of hand. I want to be sure that he remains essentially himself, and this isn’t some first step in a psychic subjugation.”
She scuffed the pavement with the heel of her boot, pausing for a moment. “I’ll be interested to see what the others make of him at Thursday’s meeting. I’ll be introducing him to the group then.”
Any answer Kate might have been about to make were abruptly cut off when Tash held up a hand and hissed, “Shhh!” The hairs on the back of her neck had risen and a cold shiver ran down her back. The feeling was all too familiar to her. Casting around, she was aware that they’d wandered into a quiet side-street, away from the main thoroughfare. It seemed a group of bloodsuckers thought two women out alone might be easy prey.
Kate apparently felt something, too. “Vampires?” she mouthed silently at Tash, who nodded. The pair turned to get their backs to a wall as three shapes approached from the shadows. Tash could sense there were more behind them, though. How many, she couldn’t say for sure.
The two women waited, their bodies tense and poised waiting for the creatures to show themselves. Silently they emerged, three, then four... five... six... seven. They congregated in the shadows like an unruly gang of teens, their eyes trained on their prey with evil malevolence.
Kate unconsciously took a further step back, feeling the wall much closer than she’d remembered. She knew Tash was an expert vampire hunter though she’d not really seen her in action much except at the Hyperion. Her own experience in fighting vampires was much more lacking, limited to a few controlled tests in the Coven of Sindell and the odd one-on-one battle since living in Los Angeles. Nevertheless she wasn’t about to let Tash deal with seven vampires on her own and mentally prepared herself to attack with as much power as she could muster.
“Well, well, fellas, lookie what we have here,” sneered the lead vampire, the one with dreadlocks shadowing most of his face.
A female vampire behind him, dressed in leather pants and a t-shirt with holes cut into it bared her teeth. “Looks like a coupla rich girls out slumming it. Worried they’ve run into a street gang. Tell ya what, girlies,” she changed into game face, “You don’t know the half of it.”
The vampiress seemed disappointed when neither Tash nor Kate screamed, as most of their prey did when they saw the true faces of their attackers. Instead, her last expression was one of stunned surprise when she looked down to see a crossbow bolt protruding from her chest, a look which soon disappeared when she dissolved into dust.
“Where the fuck did she get that?” another vampire exclaimed, realising that the black woman of the pair now had a crossbow. He didn’t wait for her to pull any more weapons out, but charged, dragging along his fellow gang members.
Toni saw what was happening and was about to aid the women when he looked over at Jeet; there were now five dragons circling over his head. Toni’s head whipped back and forth between the women, Jeet and Evie. *I have to stay here, god please let them be ok,* he thought, but before Toni had chance to think again on his decision he spotted another two figures approaching from the other side of the car park. As they drew closer he saw their faces. *Vampires!*
“Evie, stay here with Jeet,” he ordered as he ran to meet the vampires half way.
Tash loosed her second bolt, but it flew wide of its mark, embedding itself merely in the shoulder of one of the charging vampires. “Crap,” she muttered as she took up a fighting stance, a stake in each hand. From the corner of her eye she kept watch on Kate, knowing that although the wicca could hold her own she didn’t have nearly as much experience at hand to hand fighting. Tash was determined not to let any of the vamps get an upper hand over her friend.
The six remaining attackers closed, and Tash dove between the legs of the first, flipping over to kick him in the back and hopefully pushing him off-balance into the wall. She didn’t wait to see if he had, though, as she was too busy brawling with the second and third vampires, blocking punches and kicks as they ganged up on her. Behind her she could hear Kate moving about, and risked a quick glance over her shoulder to see how she was doing.
Evie didn’t know what to do, trying to watch the three scenes unfolding in front of her. Her main concern was Jeet, his body was so tense she thought he was going to burst, but the dragon mists were doing nothing but cycling above. Toni had managed to deal with the one vampire easily enough but he seemed to be having trouble with the other, considerably larger one. She wanted to help but didn’t know what to do. She looked towards the two women in the distance for help, but they had enough to deal with.
Kate watched as Tash removed the crossbow from under her jacket, wondering if she ever went anywhere without it and being quietly thankful that seemed not to be the case. Tash rushed headlong into the crowd of vamps, delivering punches and kicks with swiftness and accuracy. As the crowd descended upon Tash, Kate held her hands aloft, wishing that she’d had the time to finish the sunlight spell. Kate focused her energies, transferring them through her body down to the tips of her fingers.
Her eyes blazed with absolute darkness, void of humanity as the destructive magics gathered full force. “Fulgur Sagitta!” she cried loudly, directing the powerful energies at one particular vampire that was about to lunge at Tash from behind.
Strands of blue light crackled across her fingers, shooting forth like a bolt of lightning in the night and striking the vampire with such deadly force he was flung across the street to hit the far wall with a sickening thud. Kate staggered back a little from the force, breathing harshly as she struggled to regain her strength and summon the powers for another attack.
Tash grinned to herself as she saw the lead vampire sail overhead, his dreadlocks flying in all directions. One of her stake thrusts found a home in a vampire chest, leaving only four to deal with. *Good,* she thought, *the odds are getting better, and I’m not even hurt ye-* “Ooof!”
One of the vampires was carrying a knife, it seemed, as he opened up a long gash down Tash’s side. She grimaced in pain, but managed to smash a vial of holy water against the offending bloodsucker’s chest, which left him staggering backwards clawing at his shirt, out of the fight for the moment at least. That left three active vampires, but two were likely to come back into the fray at any moment, so Tash made the most of it. She spun, flipped, dodged and fought, her second stake pounding with deadly accuracy into the heart of another attacker. She could hear Kate gearing up for another spell, but ‘holy water’ and ‘dreadlocks’ had recovered enough to advance on her once more.
‘Dreadlocks’ called to his fellow vamps, “C’mon, we don’t have time for this. We got a job to do.”
Evie was frozen to the spot but as she watched Jeet she saw his arm come back in to his side. Eyes still closed he slowly lifted the amulet above his head and dropped it on the ground. Equally as slowly he pulled his sword from its sheath on his back. It was as if he was struggling against a mighty weight pushing against him. As he raised the sword above his head, Evie looked over towards Toni only to see him drop to the ground; the vampire was making his way towards her.
“Jeet!” she cried out in the vain hope he could do something. At the same instant Jeet brought his sword down with as much strength as he could muster, hitting the amulet directly over its centre symbol. A brilliant, white ray of light burst out from the amulet into the air, lighting up everything around. Evie shielded her eyes and tried to focus on Jeet who was now floating a good six feet above the ground.
The white light flashed up from behind Tash and Kate, illuminating the vampires’ faces in stark relief, and they both blinked in shock as the four vampires – who until a moment ago had still seemed confident – suddenly turned tail and ran. Tash glanced behind her but the light was too bright to see anything. She raised an eyebrow at Kate.
“Care to go for a run?” she asked, tilting her head towards the retreating vampires. “There are only four left now. And I don’t like the sound of this ‘job’ of theirs. Usually nothing’s more important than a fight to a vamp.”
Kate’s gaze followed Tash’s, her eyes gradually returning to their normal colour as she released her hold on the magics that had been building around her. Four vampires were certainly better odds than seven and they hadn’t been doing so badly. She could sense Tash’s desperation to continue the ‘hunt’, a feeling that completely baffled Kate – she was just glad that they were alive.
Before she had time to reply Tash had already made the decision to go after them, heading off into the darkness in the direction of the retreating footsteps. Kate hurried to keep up with the huntress, her own inappropriate choice of footwear clacking loudly on the concrete despite her best attempts to keep quiet.
Evie stood watching, helpless. Jeet’s body was suspended in the air, his arms out, body taut. His face was emotionless and his eyes were misted over. The five dragons slowly circled the light before slowly moving away, as Evie looked on they merged and mingled together until she could no longer make out the shape of five separate dragons, just one big dragon. The mist stopped parallel with Jeet's chest, about fifteen feet away before it suddenly shot toward him. Slowly moving forward Evie tried to reach his side but the light was too bright. She could only watch as Jeet’s body began to spasm as the dragon-like mist entered his chest, and he was thrown over fifty feet onto a small grassy area, to one side of the car park.
The light had disappeared as fast as it had arrived, the mist was gone. Jeet lay motionless on the grass, Toni’s body was heaped in the middle of the car park, only Evie remained. She slowly got to her feet, shaking with emotion, looking around at the scene before her.
In the distance a shape stepped out from behind a tree. The figure surveyed the area. *Fools, he is going to kill me for this.* The figure stepped into a car parked next to her. “Get me out of here! Now!”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***Sunday, 21 January 2007 - 9:35pm***
**A car park in West Alhambra**
Jeet lay motionless on the ground, his body limp, his face pale. The same amulet that had given him so much power now left him lifeless. Evie ran over to him.
“Jeet! Jeet!” she sobbed as she tried to wake him. She felt his wrist and then lowered her head to his mouth. He wasn’t breathing. “Somebody help me!” She started to breath into Jeet’s mouth, frantically trying to revive him. “Breathe damn you, I won't let you go! Not like this!”
Nothing. Jeet just lay there in the grass, his hair slowly blowing in the wind.
Evie caught sight of the amulet lying next to Jeet, its gold colouring and markings gone. Only a dent from Jeet’s sword remained; it was now nothing more than a piece of tin.
“You did this to him,” she yelled as she tossed the amulet as far as she could. Her anger gently faded as she turned back to Jeet in his helpless state. She brushed his hair away from his face and cradled his head in her arms as she quietly wept.
After a few minutes Evie’s tears ceased. Her eyes, red from crying, were now fixed on Jeet’s chest; she slowly lowered her head towards his mouth, not wanting to take her gaze off him. Her tears started to flow again but this time there was happiness and relief in her eyes, not sorrow.
“You’re alive, you didn’t leave me.” She could hardly speak for the emotion inside her. Evie reached into her pocket and pulled out her mobile phone, careful not to drop Jeet’s head as she called for an ambulance. She could have easily laid him back down on the ground but she didn’t want to let him go, not yet.
Evie sat by Jeet’s side for the entire ambulance ride, and didn’t take her eyes off him for a second. It had been quite hard explaining what happened to the ambulance driver, in the end she found it easier to say that ‘he just collapsed’. The journey seemed to take only seconds, but as they arrived at the hospital she caught sight of the other stretcher.
*Poor Toni, he loved Jeet so much.* She was staring at the black body bag opposite her; she had forgotten about Toni when she called the ambulance but they had found him as they pulled up. *What am I going to tell him?* A tear gently rolled down her cheek and she stretched out her arm towards the motionless shape, but she was suddenly disturbed by the paramedic.
“Miss? Miss! You’ll have to let go off his hand for a second, we have to get him inside.”
“What? Oh yes, I’m sorry,” she said apologetically as she climbed down from the ambulance.
“It’s ok, you can hold his hand again now if you want, just be careful of the doors.” He tried to force a smile but Evie knew he was more concerned about Jeet’s condition than he was prepared to tell her. As soon as they went through the first set of doors a doctor ran over to them. The paramedic started reeling off facts and figures as they hurried along the corridor but Evie didn’t understand any of it.
“Take him to exam room three NOW! You’ll have to wait here I'm afraid. A nurse will be along to take you to the relatives' room.” And before she had a chance to reply the doctor had spun around and was heading back after Jeet.
“This way,” a calming voice from behind her said.
As she turned Evie saw a young nurse standing by a door to a small room, gesturing for Evie to enter.
“If you wait here someone will let you know what’s happening as soon as they can. Would you like a drink?” The nurse smiled but it did nothing to reassure Evie. She shook her head at the nurse’s offer.
Evie waited for what seemed like an age before a doctor came to see her.
“Miss?” the doctor enquired.
“Williams, Evie Williams, what is it? Do you have any news?” She quickly got to her feet and stood directly in front of the doctor. “Tell me, what is it?”
“Perhaps you should sit down, Miss Williams.” The man politely gestured towards the seats.
“I’m fine standing thank you, please just tell me what’s happening to Jeet.” Her voice was firm yet nervous at the same time.
“I’m afraid your friend is in a coma, there are no signs of any physical injuries and he is breathing just fine on his own, but…” the doctor trailed off.
“But what? He’s going to be all right isn’t he?” The firmness had disappeared from her voice.
“There is very little sign of brain activity, in fact I’m amazed he is breathing unaided. We have no way of knowing when or even if he will wake up.” The doctor paused for a moment, “And I’m afraid if he does wake up there is a chance of permanent damage.”
“What kind of ‘damage’?” Evie was struggling to hold back her tears.
“It’s impossible to say I’m afraid, but rest assured he is in the best possible hands and we’ll be monitoring him closely.” The man tried to force a smile but he knew he wasn’t convincing anyone.
“Can I see him?” Evie looked pleadingly into the man’s eyes, “Please?”
The doctor gave a genuine smile this time. “Of course, this way.”
He led her out the room and down the corridor. Jeet was in a room all by himself at the end of a small ward. “Don’t worry about all the machines, like I said we’re monitoring him closely. You can stay as long as you want to.”
“Thank you,” Evie smiled half heartily as the doctor left. She stood staring at Jeet lying in the bed. He seemed so peaceful as if he had just fallen asleep for a little while. She made her way around to the side of the bed and pulled a chair up next to it. She paused for a moment to look at the machines before taking Jeet’s hand.
“You better wake up soon you hear, I need you.” A single tear fell to the bed. “Please wake up soon.”
Maybe Baby - Part Two: If at first you don't succeed...
Maybe Baby – Part Two: If at First you don't Succeed, Try, Try Again!
Sunday, 4 February 2007 – 8:37am
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
The day was early, the morning sun streamed gaily in through the open windows sending an angular shaft of light across the dark wooden floorboards and the thin voiles rippled occasionally in unison with a light breeze. In the bedroom, the breathless sounds of two lovers reaching their ecstasy filled the air, while the bed creaked and groaned in protest to the energetic actions of the two occupants.
Galen grunted with the effort of their activity as he frantically thrust around in the bed. Kate gasped and panted too with equal zealousness and enthusiasm, her legs wrapped tightly around Galen, holding on to him with all her strength, squeezing his buttocks beneath her ankles.
“OH, by the Gods!!!” she moaned breathlessly, feeling light-headed from their frenzied lovemaking.
Galen smiled, chuckling a little. He was also out of breath, desperate to reach his climax as he continued his relentless strokes. “Almost… there…” he choked out, hearing a welcome sigh of relief from his wife only moments before he collapsed upon her in ecstasy.
“UGHHH!” he moaned, laying against Kate’s warm breast and feeling her loving hands comb through his hair. “Who would ever have thought that getting pregnant was such hard work?” he said with an exhausted sigh, “The last time it happened so easily…”
“Hmmm, I know…” Kate mused, enjoying the tingling sensations of a post-coital afterglow. It had been almost two months now since she had agreed to their trying for another baby and despite all their best efforts Kate remained quite frustratingly NOT pregnant.
Suddenly the sound of Emma’s distressed tears broke the temporary silence. Kate sighed, laughing a little, “Well looks like we should attend to our firstborn before we get back to making the second.” She was about to get up when Galen held her back down.
“I’ll go, you should… you know, lay still for a while… Relax.”
Kate rolled her eyes as Galen grabbed his robe and left the room heading towards the nursery. She lay, her eyes fixed on the ceiling for a while before she rolled her head to one side, glancing at the bedside clock. She yawned languidly, flicking a long red curl from her eyes. They were using all the old wives' tales and hints and tips they could think of to get her pregnant, but it didn’t matter, none of them had worked so far. Sometimes it left her with a feeling of wretched despondency. Galen was right, last time she’d become pregnant so easily they hadn’t even been trying and although she hadn’t been exactly desperate to have another child, the thought that she couldn’t had begun to take over her life.
She wrapped the crumpled sheets more tightly around her body, feeling the early morning air turn decidedly cold, intruding into the room through the open window. Still she lay on her back, not moving more than to roll her head tiredly from one side of the pillow to the other. It was supposed to help, they’d read in some book, to lay still after intercourse and Kate was desperate enough to try anything from eating only dairy to sleeping with a sprig of bistort root under her pillow.
Galen returned a few moments later as Emma’s anxious cries died down. “She’s sleeping again,” he said, a wide smile spread across his face as he crawled back up the bed, leaning low to reach Kate’s lips. “How are you feeling?”
“Hmmm,” Kate murmured as Galen continued to kiss her, his warm lips exploring hers tenderly.
Galen slipped beneath the sheets again; easing his robe off and tossing it out the bed while his arms snaked their way around Kate’s waist. It felt undeniably strange to him, that suddenly their lovemaking had a purpose… an added purpose. That thought often made him a little apprehensive, especially considering their recent bad luck. Still, the doctors said not to worry, it could take months to get the exact right moment – it was all a matter of chance after all.
And in the meantime… well there wasn’t much of a down side to spending all your spare time legitimately making love to your wife…
He gazed down at her, tracing with his index finger the delicate lace of her camisole that framed her décolleté. He slowly pushed the lace further down until his finger grazed the very top of her breast, following the gentle cleave back and forth with mindful contemplation.
All the while Kate watched him intently. Her dark blue eyes mesmerised by his intense focus and gentle touch. As he lowered his head, his lips following the path of his fingers she closed her eyes, her head rolling back on the pillow, her arms stretching out, reaching for elysium once more.
Maybe this time…
Maybe…
Maybe baby…
Now You See Me, Now You Don't!
I Only Have Eyes For You - Part One: Now You See Me, Now You Don't!
Friday, 16 February 2007 - 5:45pm
The Eldridge Residence – 64 Birch Street
Reintroducing Peter Woodward as Orin Trask
Orin Trask silently walked the residential streets of Alhambra, his long black cloak swishing around his ankles, the deep hood pulled low over his bald head. Two glittering eyes peered out from the darkness like a bat awakening from its daily slumber. Inside his pocket glowed the data orb, swirling with cabalistic energies.
It had been months since his arrival in LA and his testing of the Eldridge subject, and he still had much work left ahead of him. Zentara had been insistent that he pace the various tests so as not to arouse the witch’s suspicion. The data he already had was pretty impressive; she had an amazing capacity for healing and a keen telepathic ability. Her combat skills were clearly her weak area though her ability to adapt and improvise was an impressive compensation. But this, the final test that he was about to put into action, would be the greatest test of the witch’s powers.
He stopped suddenly, looking up at the white washed manor house that towered above him. It really was a beautiful structure, he thought to himself. Such wonderful architecture reminded him of his days in rural England, the style was very much in the Victorian era. Orin calmly traversed the grounds until he stood in the backyard. A light on the porch had attracted a few lazy moths that proceeded to butt their heads against the glass before flying away and repeating the action once more. Orin spun the lamp gently as he ascended the few porch steps that led to the open back door, scattering the moths like pollen on the wind.
“Tut, tut, careless,” he said to nobody in particular as he walked through the door and into the large kitchen. Orin’s hands were firmly clasped together as he walked, his head merely tilted from side to side as he inspected his surroundings. *Typical witch,* he thought as he casually perused the shelves of mugwort and wolfsbane, not to mention the stack of ancient, dusty spell books that sat amongst the other instruments of The Craft.
Suddenly there was a scuffle of shoe leather out in the corridor. Orin quickly tapped his staff on the ground twice and pulled his cloak around his body, completely covering himself as the crystal in his staff glowed brightly and he vanished from sight.
Kate sauntered into the kitchen carrying a grizzly Emma in her arms. She jiggled the child rhythmically in her arms in an attempt to placate her tears without much success. “It’s okay honey,” she soothed, stroking the baby’s soft red curls with her free hand before opening the refrigerator and removing a cup of juice. “Here we go.”
She deftly fed the spout of the cup into Emma’s waiting mouth while manoeuvring her body into a more comfortable position. Slowly, Kate’s head looked up and she scanned the room, feeling an unfamiliar presence within. As the juice cup became dislocated, removing the flow of orangey goodness, Emma began to cry again.
Kate held her more securely in her arms, ignoring her wailing this time as she tried to concentrate on the foreign presence in the room. “I know you’re here,” she called out hesitantly as she retreated into a corner of the kitchen, her back securely meeting the edge of the countertop. “Whoever you are… Show yourself!”
Orin stood a safe distance away from the witch and her child, knowing that, although he was invisible it in no way guaranteed his safety.
Kate grabbed Emma’s highchair and fastened her in safely, ready for any attack. Suddenly a light dawned in Kate’s mind and she remembered where she had sensed this presence before. Several weeks ago at the restaurant with Nikolai and Alicia, he had been the mysterious cloaked figure that she’d chased into the alley. “I know who you are,” she announced triumphantly, exuding more confidence than she felt, “so there’s no need for you to hide, not unless you want to get hurt.”
*I think it is you who will get hurt,* thought Orin, loud enough and clear enough for her to be able to pick up.
Kate spun around wildly, sensing the man to her right. Her heart was racing with fear as she tried to sense where the man was but Emma’s distressed wailing made it too difficult to concentrate. But it wasn’t just that, all of a sudden she felt an oppressive wave of tiredness wash over her, sapping her of her strength.
She closed her eyes tight, feeling a rush of pain fill her head like an invasive force and held her head as her entire body shuddered in an attempt to fight whatever it was that was happening to her. Kate cried out, gasping in pain as she staggered over to the kitchen table, leaning against the hard, polished wood, gripping it tightly in her fingers, feeling the smooth grain against her hands. The ache in her head tightened, stretching down the back of her neck. Kate’s eyes screwed up against the agony just before she slumped to the floor.
Orin pushed back his cloak to reveal himself standing above Kate’s motionless body, the glow of his staff fading gently. He picked her up carefully in his arms and carried her into the living room, laying her down on the couch and brushing her long red hair from her face.
“Let’s see what you’ve got huh?” he mumbled quietly to himself as he rose to his feet, his fingers tapping a staccato over the engravings on his staff. The crystal glowed again, this time a bright blue colour, Orin held it above Kate’s face, the blue glow making her appear almost corpse like.
“Eyes of sight turn in on thee, only darkness shall you see. When the days have passed by three, only then shall you be free.”
The blue glow intensified, seeming to travel from the crystal and into Kate’s body. Orin smiled, laying his fingers against her eyes. Things were about to get interesting.
I Only Have Eyes For You - Part Two: See What I Mean?
I Only Have Eyes For You - Part Two: See What I Mean?
Friday, 16 February 2007 - 6:33pm
The Eldridge Residence – 64 Birch Street
Galen was looking forward to a relaxing weekend at home after such a heavy day at the station. He and Anderson always had a stack of crimes to investigate but recently with vampire activity on the increase there had been a significant backlog of unsolved murders.
The sound of Emma’s crying could be heard even before he got out of the car. He ran up the porch steps two at a time. The lights inside the house were blazing away and the front door opened easily. “Kate?” he called out as he entered the house, dropping his keys on the side table and hanging up his coat.
He followed the sound of the crying to find Emma alone in the kitchen sitting in her highchair. He unlocked the front and picked her up into his arms. “Hey,” he said soothingly, stroking back her soft red hair and wiping at the child’s frustrated tears, “what’s going on here then?” He spoke softly in an attempt to placate the baby, yet inside he felt increasingly anxious.
Jack saw Galen arrive just as his taxi pulled up outside the house. He paid the driver, also hearing Emma’s impatient wailing, and hurried up to the front door. He arrived in the kitchen just as Galen was attending to Emma.
“Galen, I heard all the noise, what’s going on? Where’s Kate?”
Suddenly there was a loud CRASH as the sound of something smashing to the ground could be heard from the living room. Galen’s head quickly turned in that direction, his face becoming distressed as he handed Emma over to Jack and hurried to investigate.
“Kate!” said Galen in alarm, seeing her kneeling on the floor beside an overturned side table and a broken lamp.
“Galen?” called out Kate, looking around and seeing nothing. She’d woken up just a few minutes ago and things were still fuzzy, dreamlike. She rubbed her eyes again, holding her head in pain. Everything was so dark, she didn’t realise she’d been asleep so long. “Galen? Where are you?”
Galen knelt by her side and lifted up her face to look at her. She’d cut herself badly on the forehead and a thin crimson ribbon of blood rolled down the side of her face. “What’s going on?” he said gently, holding her trembling hand while the other searched in his jacket pocket for a handkerchief.
Kate squeezed Galen’s hand, rubbing her fingers gently against his warm flesh. “I, I don’t know,” she stammered uncertainly, reaching out with her free hand until she reached Galen’s shoulder. She ran her fingers up to his face, feeling the familiar planes of his chin and jaw.
“Hold still,” said Galen, carefully dabbing at her wound, “you’re bleeding.” He looked up at her, watching her face closely. He was confused, the way she was looking straight through him, unfocused, uncertain, almost like…
“Can you turn a light on or something?” she asked as Galen helped her to sit on the couch. “I can barely see anything.”
Galen frowned; the room was ablaze with light. Warily he waved his hand in front of Kate’s face, eliciting no reaction from her at all. “Kate…” he said warily, “can you see anything?”
“Well… no,” she said uneasily, “it’s… too dark…” Kate’s eyes moved all about the room, looking bewildered and frightened. She blinked a few times, expecting things to clear but they didn’t, everything remained clouded in never ending darkness. “I can’t see… can I?” she admitted after a moment. “I’m blind.”
Galen looked up as Jack joined them, his face set into an expression of concern as he knelt down beside them. He and Galen exchanged worried glances before returning their focus to Kate.
Jack observed his daughter carefully, he could see tears brimming her eyes and he took her by the arms gently. “It’s going to be okay-”
“Jack?” said Kate suddenly, surprised to hear his voice so close. “I can’t see! How is this going to be okay? I can’t see anything! How, how could this happen?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” he held her hands tightly, “but we’re going to find out.” He rose to his feet, turning to Galen. “We should probably take her down to the ER, get her checked out.”
“No wait!” Kate called out, “There was someone here… that man… Galen!” Kate shouted anxiously although Galen was only a few feet away from her. “Where’s Emma? Is she okay, please tell me she’s all right.”
“She’s fine, honey,” said Galen, reaching out and taking her hand so she knew where he was. “Jack has her, now just tell me what happened.”
Kate exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm herself. “That man from the restaurant, remember? When we were attacked by those creatures… the man I followed, I, I know it was him, he was here, in the kitchen. I couldn’t see him but I know it was.”
Galen frowned. “You couldn’t see him? But I thought that…”
“No, I could see then but he, he was invisible or something, I could sense him, I don’t know how to explain it but I know it was him. He, he must have done this to me.”
Galen shook his head dismissively, “Kate honey, why would someone want to make you blind? It doesn’t make sense. Are you sure you didn’t have a fall? Your head looks pretty bad.”
“No, Galen!” Kate cried in frustration. She pulled her hand free from him and rose to her feet quickly, “I know what I’m talking about. Just because I can’t see doesn’t mean that I’m stupid!”
“I know, I’m not saying that,” said Galen calmly, taking her hand again and leading her to a chair. “But you’re obviously, understandably upset… and you’re hurt, you could have just hallucinated-” Kate began to protest but he rested his hands on her shoulders. “Look, we’ll take you to the hospital just to be on the safe side… there has to be a reasonable explanation for all this…”
Kate sighed in annoyance. “Galen, I’m telling you it’s some kind of spell or, or a hex! I can’t believe YOU of all people are trying to Scully me!”
“Kate, I agree with Galen,” began Jack. “Wait, before you say anything just let me speak,” he said quickly sensing Kate’s frustration. “You go to the hospital and see what they say, like Galen said. It’s better to be safe than sorry, and then if it turns out this… whoever this man is turns out to be responsible we’ll deal with it from there.”
He glanced over at Galen, sharing a worried glance with him. *Why would anyone want to cast a blind spell and then do nothing?* he thought anxiously. He just hoped that if it was a hex it was nothing to do with The Ministry. They’d been disconcertingly quiet for the past month and that was never a good sign. Inside he sighed, Carmichael and Gemmel couldn’t be relied upon to honour their word, of that he was certain, and they had some interest in Kate despite all their protests. It would be a risk in meeting them again but it might help. Something certainly had to be done, too many strange occurrences had happened in the last few months to be mere coincidence, even for Los Angeles.
“I’ll take care of Emma,” he said as Galen led a reluctant Kate into the hallway and helped her into her coat. “You don’t need to worry,” he said again, holding the now mollified child in both his arms. “You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
11:19pm - Los Angeles County Hospital, Optometry Department
The hospital was particularly busy that night. Kate and Galen had already sat in the ER for the past three hours just waiting to be seen and then shunted from one consultant to another in a bid to find out what was wrong.
The current doctor was quite old with a thick crop of greying hair and spectacles, behind which peered a friendly, though confused face. Dr Peterson clipped a set of x-rays to a light box and flicked it on. “Well your x-ray results are back Ms. Eldridge…” he studied the film for a few moments before returning to where the young woman and her husband waited.
He leaned over to where Kate sat and shone a light in her eyes. It was almost a redundant gesture, it had been done so many times. She’d already undergone numerous tests from glaucoma to conjunctivitis.
“And you say you haven’t been in any accidents? Not hit your head or anything?”
Kate sighed; it was probably the twentieth time she’d been asked that question, “No, nothing like that.” It wouldn’t help to mention what had happened with the invisible stranger, that would just lead to more problems than she could deal with right now. “It’s like I told you, I felt a pain in my neck-”
“What kind of pain? A stabbing pain? An aching pain?”
*Why do doctors always ask that?* she thought with annoyance, like it’s so easy to categorise such a thing. She sighed again. “A stabbing pain.”
Dr Peterson shone the torch in her other eye. He looked thoughtfully, making short annotations in his notes. “And..?” his voice was slow and drawling, showing remnants of what must at one time have been a strong Texas accent. Kate imagined he had a head of floppy sand coloured hair and rough, weathered skin like a cowboy in a John Wayne movie. It was strange how you made such things up when you couldn’t actually see the person you were talking to.
“And then that’s all I remember.” Kate’s hand tiredly searched for Galen’s hand, everything felt so strange, disorientating, she’d never realised how much she relied on her sight to do almost everything.
Galen noticed her hand reach out slightly and he moved his chair closer, taking her hand in his and rubbing her cold fingers comfortingly. Kate’s head turned in his direction and she smiled half-heartedly, thankful to have him near her.
She turned back to where she imagined the doctor sat or stood and continued, “I must have passed out because the next thing I remember was waking up and everything was dark.”
The doctor tapped his pen on the edge of his notebook. “And that cut on your head?”
Kate looked up again as the tapping continued. *What was he doing? Sounded like he was tapping something, his foot? Fingers? A pen probably.* She took comfort in being able to recognise the sound. “When I woke up I was pretty disorientated so I tried to turn on a light, I knocked over a table and broke a lamp. I couldn’t see… I guess I must have cut myself.”
“That’s right, that’s how I found her.” Galen had been nervously biting his thumb during all this. He couldn’t stand it, seeing Kate so helpless, so frustrated with herself. Moreover he couldn’t stand this constant stream of ineffectual doctors all asking the same questions and each of them with nothing new to say. He was beginning to think Kate was right, maybe this was a hex. “So what do you think Doc?” he said, anxious to stop the incessant questioning.
Dr Peterson straightened up, replacing his pen in his jacket pocket. “Well, her responses seem normal. There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong as far as I can tell…”
Galen felt angry, so angry he could barely keep it in check. His hand slipped out of Kate’s as he punctuated his words with an angry jab in the air with his fist. “Nothing wrong? She can’t see! She’s completely blind! How is that not wrong?”
“Well, yes, what I meant to say is...” the doctor sighed in frustration. If the truth be told he was at a loss. There were no signs to show any kind of swelling around the inside of the eye and Kate’s responses to light and other stimuli were all normal. “It’s good that there’s no actual damage to the eye itself. This could just be a temporary occurrence, perhaps a reaction to stress. It’s not entirely uncommon.”
Kate managed to find Galen’s hand again and pressed it into hers in an effort to calm him down. She turned to the doctor, “What does that mean? If it’s stress?”
“Well you mentioned the pain in your head and since there don’t seem to be any other symptoms it’s possible that you experienced a sort of intense migraine. It’s not unknown for migraines or bad headaches to cause temporary blindness in some people.”
Galen’s hand squeezed and relaxed repetitively around Kate’s as he listened to the doctor’s words. The more he heard and the more tests came back negative, the more he was leaning towards Kate’s own theory of a magical intervention. “If that’s the case then how long could this last for?”
The doctor scratched his chin contemplatively for a moment, “Well, there’s not exactly a written rule for this sort of thing but… anything from a few hours to several days.”
Galen glanced at his wife and tightened his hold on her hand. “So what do we do in the meantime?”
Doctor Peterson looked grim, leaning across the desk. “You go home and try to relax. The rest of Kate’s test results should come through in the next few days. In the meantime if you experience any change in your vision,” he focused on Kate now, “colours, lights, shapes, anything, I want you to contact my office immediately.”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
*****28th December 2006- Apartment in Bombay, Mumbai, India*****
The sultry air stirred restlessly causing the colorful ribbons tied to the balcony to flutter lazily overhead. Basanta Panchami, Sarasvati Puja had come and passed and already the street sweepers prepared to clear away faded streamers and thousands of crushed and muddied rose petals from the roads.
The altitude of Simryn’s apartment building provided a clear view over the lonely rooftops of what seemed like hundreds of small brown buildings, discolored by time and shadowed in the fading light. The only bits of colour on the sea of brick and mortar, hung over laundry lines strung across with multi-hued, jewel-toned saaris and kurtas swaying imperceptibly in the light wind. Beyond that, fiery sunbeams glittered and deliquesced over the white surf stirring on the Arabian Sea.
Pushing back a limp lock of hair that even the slight breeze couldn’t stir Simryn looked out over the city, ignoring the steady rasping sound of festival’s vestiges being brushed away. Few revelers remained on the streets; most, having finished their obeisance to the Goddess Sarasvati earlier in the day, were probably breaking fast at home with their families about now. And not for the first time in the past weeks, Simryn let her consciousness settle within, to the dark loneliness that seemed to have sunk its claws into her being.
Since her Awakening she had tried not to think of the exact details of what she would do. In that moment there had been a new language to learn, barriers of time and belief to overcome and she had pushed specific thoughts of her quest to a far corner of her mind, revealing it occasionally to remind herself what she was living for. But that had been months ago, and more than a week since she and Vivek a Bhim had left her Mothers’ temple at Kalinganagara. Since then they had traveled the breadth of India, using various modern and often uncomfortable modes of transport to come to the main port at Bombay.
After setting her up in a small, fully furbished apartment Vivek had disappeared on the pretext of handling official documents for their travel. But she knew that what remained of his mother’s family resided in the city and he would want to spend the holiday with them as was traditional. The Kshatrani would have worried about him except that he called on the telephone every day to check up on her, an annoying habit but it bolstered her to know he had not abandoned her. And he had not left her without anything to do. The table in the small living room of the apartment was covered in stacks of books, some instructive and some amusing but all to teach her about the new world she must come into.
Besides books, Vivek had provided her with the moving pictures that she could access whenever she wanted. It was an amazing invention; to be sure, she could never have imagined that man could create such fabulous things and that first week she had gone through many of the cassettes piled next to the television. Despite the glimpses into this exotic new world he had provided, Vivek had also forbid her from leaving her comfortable prison and the confinement for one such as she had been stifling. More than that it chafed her pride to be so reliant upon a mere mortal boy.
Simryn smiled sadly to herself, for all of Vivek’s modern cleverness he was still so innocent in so many ways. His family’s curse wasn’t the worst fate that could be cast by those who had the power and in that regard she doubted much had changed in the realms of god and man while she’d slept. And if he remained by her side, there were many things that would seek to harm him despite what small protection her presence offered. The Kshatrani wondered if this descendent of Bhim was strong enough and could find no answer. If the worse came despite their precautions she would order him to leave her, she would manage alone if she had to… somehow.
“Yah! Khudah!” Weary of her own disheartening thoughts, Simryn threw her hands up in frustration, the glass bangles encircling her slender wrists chiming at the jarring movement. She needed to get out of the confining space of the little apartment. Ignoring the little voice that reminded her of Vivek’s orders to “stay put” she grabbed a long shawl embroidered with little bits of glass and threw it over her head and shoulders. She would face the consequences of Vivek discovering her disobedience, just as long as she could get out, even if it were only for a few moments.
Sticking her head outside the doorway, Simryn peered down the hallway to make sure no one would see her small defiance and grinned at the thrilling feeling that quickened her heartbeat. It wasn’t just anticipation of freedom but the little threat of discovery that had her being more careful than she needed to as locked the door behind her and crept down the stairs. The only sound in the evening stillness was the tiny jingling of the bells around her ankles though the usually creaky stairs were silent as the Kshatrani traversed them on agile feet. And then there was only one more barrier between her and liberty; a guard dozed with his back up against the wall and Simryn easily bypassed him, slipping through the rusty gate and out into the twilight.
* * *
The smells of spices and home cooked meals permeated the alleyways where she walked and Simryn gladly breathed in the comforting scents. In her apartment the only thing she had to eat was what she made herself and she never had been a proficient cook though it hadn’t killed her yet. Arms swinging gaily, Simryn had no direction as she walked wherever her will took her and she reveled at that small choice, it seemed as if she’d had very few choices of late. *Stop feeling sorry for yourself!* she chided herself, intent on enjoying her outing.
Steady chanting reached her ears and Simryn stopped and put her hands together in greeting as a group of priests passed her on the road. They were on their way back to the temple from the river and on impulse the daughter of Goddesses decided to pay her own respects to Sarasvati-ji, who along with her own Mothers was one of the great deities of Hinduism’s vast pantheon. Following what few signs she could distinguish, Simryn soon found herself at the edge of the river. On the banks, various effigies of the Goddess had been cleansed and were scattered with roses and the oil-lamps of petitioners burned beneath them.
Leaving her shawl on a dry portion of the shore, Simryn waded into the water until it flowed with little eddies around her waist. Raising her beryline eyes up to the heavens she whispered her prayers, hoping that wherever her Mothers were they would hear her as well and guide her search and guard those who helped her. With the completion of her prayers the Kshatrani traced slender fingers over her lips and eyes and raised her palms to the sky. Then taking a deep breath she dunked her whole body into the water, letting the icy waters engulf her senses.
Time passed and the beating of her own heart in her ears seemed to meld with the primeval pulsing of the river. When she felt as if she couldn’t hold her breath a moment longer, Simryn rose from the shadowed depths, pushing scraggly locks of hair out of her face. Goosebumps rose on her skin and the Kshatrani rubbed her arms as she shivered. It had seemed much warmer underwater but it felt so good to simply be alive. A joyous smile played about her lips and with a final thanks to the gods, Simryn turned toward the shore… and froze.
* * *
Looking up at Vivek, the corners of Simryn’s lips tilted down solemnly as she saw the ire apparent there. “What do you think you’re doing?” he practically screeched as he walked right up to the river’s edge holding out her shawl. With a resigned sigh she waded the few feet separating them and took the cloth from his hand. “Are you insane? Do you know what could have happened to you?” He continued in the same strident voice pacing back and forth on the moist grass. Rubbing herself dry, more meticulously than the act warranted, Simryn pointedly ignored his questions; she wasn’t going to answer if he continued to be such a boor!
Realizing that he no longer had her attention, Vivek’s face flushed a red bordering on purple and Simryn could see the vein pulsing at his temple, and she wondered idly what would happen if it burst. At her continued silence, Vivek’s shouts died down to angry muttering, “Let’s go home before you catch pneumonia.”
He started off down the road. Unfamiliar with the word anyway, Simryn disregarded him and walked instead to one of the statues lining the riverbank to bow before it. “What now?” she heard Vivek growl before the muffled sound of his stomping approached her.
He came to crouch beside her with a long-suffering sigh and passed her a spare oil-lamp from the side. With a impertinent grin Simryn took it gratefully, lighting it near the figurine before closing her eyes to pray. Vivek contemplated her silhouette with enigmatic eyes; this would be a hard task and more so for her as foreign as she was. A breeze stirred suddenly and the small flame lighting her lamp flickered and died. Not knowing why he did it, only knowing that he could not bear to see her reaction to this sign of ill-omen, Vivek quickly reached out and relit the lamp.
When she opened her eyes, and smiled at him gladly, Vivek vowed to every god he knew that he would help this woman as best he could. Appearing unaffected he rose and dusted off his pant legs before helping her rise. “I’ve got our tickets and everything else is ready. Now the question is, are you?” he asked pointedly.
The Kshatrani’s deep, green eyes looked past him to the blood red sun sinking steadily beneath the shadowed horizon and she nodded curtly. After hundreds of years sleeping and dreaming, she was as ready as she was ever going to be.
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Three: Seeing In The Dark
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Three: Seeing In The Dark
Saturday, 17 February 2007 - 3:46am
The Eldridge Residence – 64 Birch Street
It was late when Jack was awoken by the sound. He climbed out of bed, pulling his robe around his pyjama-clad body and, slipping his feet into a pair of slippers, he made his way downstairs. The house was eerily quiet at that time in the morning making the muffled noise he could hear sound loud in the density of the night. He walked through the kitchen and unlocked the backdoor that led onto the porch.
Kate sat on the steps wrapped up in a thin wool shawl, her face buried in her hands as she wept. Jack watched her for a few moments, suffused with the sense of utter futility and morose self-pity that radiated from his daughter. He’d never felt such emotions from her, not even last year when they had faced The Brotherhood. She always took everything in her stride, making every crisis look a mere trifle. He stepped forward, placing a hand on her trembling shoulder. “Kate?”
She looked up suddenly, feeling apprehensive and ashamed to be caught indulging in such a practice. It was why she had come outside, hoping not to disturb anyone – that and to hopefully hide from Galen just how terribly afraid she was about this entire thing. “Jack?” she whispered softly into the darkness, she had never felt so utterly alone in her life.
Jack sat down on the steps next to her, wrapping a fatherly arm around her shoulders. It was a cold night and she felt frozen against his warm body. He wondered just how long she had been sitting like this. He stroked her forearm slowly in a rhythmic, comforting manner, just sitting and holding her for a long while before he even dared to speak. “I know it must be difficult Kate,” he said finally.
Kate nodded. It was, much more difficult than she had imagined. After returning from the hospital she’d just laid in bed wide awake, unable to close her eyes… what did it matter anyway? Her entire life might be just like that, dark… black… empty… like being in a permanent state of sleep. She heaved a sigh, why had this happened? Why to her? Well, part of that question she already knew; the man from the restaurant, he was the one who had done this to her but she had no answer as to the ‘why’ part of the question. Besides, all she could think about was what if she could never see again?
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Jack perceptively, feeling the multitude of unspoken worries and questions running through Kate’s mind. He sighed tiredly, holding his girl close; it was strange how he still often thought of her as his ‘little girl’, even though she was very clearly a woman. “And in the meantime you have me and Galen. We’ll help you as much as we can, you know that.”
Kate sniffled a bit, nodding her head at his words though they offered little comfort to her. She didn’t want help, she wanted her sight back! It was so… demeaning, having to rely on someone else to do everything for you, it made her feel like a child. “I just feel… what if I never get to see Emma grow up? What if I never see again? I don’t think I could cope with that, I can’t!”
She could feel the tears building up in her eyes again and she buried her face in her hands again self-consciously.
Jack watched her as she wept again, feeling suddenly angry. Someone, some snivelling mage working for that bastard Carmichael had done this to her – he was sure of it, though the purpose eluded him. So far the man had seemed to tap into varying aspects of Kate’s power base, healing… spell casting… combat… but to take her sight? What did that prove? What purpose did it serve except to render Kate an emotional wreck? He stood up slowly, walking down the remaining steps before turning back to Kate and taking hold of her by the shoulders.
“I won’t have a daughter of mine talking like this,” he said firmly, shaking her a little until she stopped crying and looked up at him. His heart softened for a moment as he observed the unshed tears in her eyes, he just wanted to hold her and comfort her but he knew it would do her no good. She needed to be strong, strong enough to fight whatever Aimes Carmichael and Michael Gemmel were no doubt planning for her. She couldn’t do that if she was crying and wallowing in self-pity.
“Kate, you’re stronger than that and you know it and I know it. I simply won’t tolerate this kind of pathetic, indulgent self-pity. You have a daughter, a husband… you have responsibilities that you cannot abandon just because this has happened to you.” At her protests he shook her again. “You hear me Kate? No more of this, you’re an adult so start behaving like one.”
He let go of her then, pacing for a moment before continuing. He felt like such a bastard for talking to her in such an unsympathetic manner but it had to be done. She had to come to terms with this now, he couldn’t allow her the luxury of time. Who knew when the Ministry might put their next plan into action?
“You’re a telepath Kate,” he said finally, “use your abilities to help guide you, they’re stronger and more reliable than your sight could ever be.”
“But… I can’t…” said Kate weakly. Sure, she allowed herself to pick up on the inherent emotions of other people but she hadn’t really relied upon her telepathic powers since she’d first started training with The Coven of Sindell.
“You can, you must!” urged Jack uncompromisingly, “Remember Kate, your powers are my powers, I’m not asking you to do anything that I’m not prepared to do myself.” He knelt by her side, stroking her hair back gently, “I know you’re scared… frightened… but you have to be strong, do it for your daughter Kate. I know you can do it.”
He took her hands gently, it was a method that they had used many times before when he had helped to strengthen her psychic powers last year before the battle with The Brotherhood. He allowed his telepathic senses to flow into her mind. “Release,” he said firmly, ordering her to do the same. Kate was reluctant, she still had terrible difficulty using her abilities in this way but she knew that Jack was right. Slowly she relinquished her control, allowing her barriers to come down as she channelled her powers into reading Jack’s mind.
Suddenly there was an overwhelming rush as Kate’s mind was flooded with a barrage of information. Her grip on Jack’s hands tightened so much that he winced in pain, opening his eyes to watch his daughter. She gasped in shock, desperate to pull back but she held on as the miniature picture show flashed images randomly through her mind…
Jack as a child learning to ride his bike… Eating grilled shrimp by an open fire… singing camp songs… …taking his summer midterms, surrounded by books… “Why did the Mayan civilisation fall?” … … Holding his daughter for the first time… so small… tiny… Foreign lands… Egypt… the pyramids, The Temple of Abu Simbel… snow capped mountains… fresh green fields… kissing Judy Marissa behind the library after study hall… sitting by a Christmas tree holding a brand new telescope…
Kate suddenly broke free with a sharp intake of breath. She held her head in pain as the rush of information ended abruptly. She leaned against the porch, still holding her aching head as she tried to catch her breath. Jack just sat watching her, feeling a twinge of guilt in his stomach. She was clearly tired and worn but it wasn’t enough to deter him from his course of action. She needed this, needed to be groomed for what might happen. He took her hands once more, holding them firmly, this time he wouldn’t let her pull away until it was time.
“That was good,” he said briskly, his voice devoid of emotion, “Now let’s do it again.”
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Four: Visions
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Four: Visions
Sunday, 18 February 2007 - 1:10pm
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Sundays had always been a time for rest and relaxation for as long as Kate could remember. A time to get together with friends and family and put the working week as far out of one's mind as possible. Today Galen had the day off work and Jack had also managed to wrangle some free time from his duties with The Alliance which meant the entire family was able to spend some long deserved quality time together.
Galen and Jack were out in the garden playing with the little one. It was too nice a day to be cooped up inside after all and Emma was a true child of the earth in that she was never happier than when she was crawling around in the grass, digging up flowers with her bare hands or trying to catch a butterfly or two. Kate sighed languidly as she entered the kitchen to get a drink. Her sight still hadn’t returned but after the stern lecture from Jack the previous night she felt much better about her lot. She was luckier than most, she had a supportive husband and a wonderful daughter not to mention being able to rely on her telepathic abilities in a way that was enabling her to become more independent every day.
She opened the refrigerator, feeling a cold blast on her face as she felt around inside, her fingers following the shapes of the various items until she came upon the familiar size of the pitcher of iced tea. She removed it from the shelf and set it down, all the while her hands scanning every surface marking out their dimensions and textures. Kate twitched her nose in irritation and the radio switched on, playing a funky tune by The Velvet Underground…
”Well I’m beginning to see the light… … …Well I’m beginning to see the light… … …Some people work very hard… but still they never get it right… Well I’m beginning to see the light…”
Kate chuckled to herself as she heard the lyrics, humming them unconsciously as she poured the cold liquid into a tall glass, holding her index finger at the rim and halting when she felt the two meet. She was about to return to the garden when she heard the doorbell ring.
Nikolai was arriving in the hopes of honing his abilities some more, and hoping that Kate could possibly shed some light on his own dilemma. The most recent dream-not dream from the night before still plagued his mind. But for the moment at least, he always enjoyed meeting with Kate to do this - and getting to see Emma again would be pleasant. The amount of joy the young girl brought to her family was simply amazing, and - *Woah!* Nikolai stopped dead in his thoughts when Kate opened the door.
Worry and confusion. Those were the two big emotions - he'd gotten better at picking up some of the nuances, and wished that he could figure out where they were actually directed, but in this case he could guess. In her eyes was a look which he had seen only a few times before: it was the look of a blind person. "Oh my god, Kate, what happened? Are you okay?"
“Nikolai? Is that you?” Kate said a little warily as she positioned the door at an angle between herself and her visitor. She recognised the man’s voice but it was still a bit disorientating not to be able to put a visual image to the sounds. Instead she pushed out with her mind, feeling that familiar essence and the man’s concern mingled together with a tinge of doubt that was unmistakably Nikolai. She smiled, stepping aside to let him in. “I’m sorry, I forgot we’d scheduled this time to meet…”
As the man stepped inside she turned in his general direction, she was definitely picking up something and she guessed that he’d most likely sensed she wasn’t entirely herself if he hadn’t suspected the truth almost immediately. She nodded her head a little self-consciously. “I can’t see.”
She could almost hear a rush of questions and enquiries mount in Nikolai’s head just waiting to spill forth so she held her hands up. “I don’t know what happened, I think it’s a spell or a hex… I’m hoping it will just wear off in a few days and before you ask I don’t know who did it but I’ll have more than a few stern words to say when I do.”
Nikolai took in the information, "I'm sorry to hear about that. Please let me know if I can do anything to help you." Exactly who would want to do something like that to her and why was beyond him; Kate wasn't the kind of woman who went around doing things like pissing off witches who had the ability to do this. And even then, he bet that she wouldn't associate with someone who would do something like this to her. He almost jokingly suggested that, if things did not improve, she could always get shades and learn the piano, then thought better of it. The world was better off with only one Ray Charles, and she did not seem in the mood for humour about this. All at once he felt a bit awkward for daring to think of the joke, and wondered just what exactly he was to do.
"Erm, if you want to try to meet later instead of now, I understand completely...." he stammered out.
“Nikolai, it’s all right,” said Kate, feeling his nervousness. It was so odd she thought, how she’d always relied on her sight to inform her about the world where now, using only a pinch of her innate telepathic abilities allowed her to pick up on almost every fluctuating emotion and thought that swam through her friend’s head. It felt a little invasive – reminding her why she had tried so hard to block them out in the first place, but at the same time it was terribly liberating. She was so used to holding back, to locking that part of herself away it felt wonderful to put it out in the open.
The one thing she wasn’t used to however, was the response to her blindness. Nikolai seemed to feel positively embarrassed. “I mean it, apart from the whole not seeing thing I’m fine. Please stay, I’ve hardly left the house since it happened, I’m starting to feel a little stir crazy.”
She led a reluctant Nikolai into the house, taking him to the kitchen so that Galen would be able to find her if he came back inside. She moved slower than usual but with less apprehension than on Friday, already she was beginning to get used to the lay of the house. She ran her hand across the surface of the kitchen table, feeling the soft grain under her fingers… this was where it had happened she was sure of it… the mysterious stranger, the man whom she had seen in the restaurant that night.
“That’s who I think is behind this,” she explained after telling Nikolai her suspicions about the strange cloaked man, “only I don’t know who he is or why he should want to do this to me…”
She sighed, feeling a twinge of fear inside despite her acting all cool and calm about the situation. Actually she was terrified, it didn’t matter that she could almost get by, that she didn’t have to ask Galen or Jack to do practically everything for her anymore she wanted to see! She wanted to see more than anything in the world right now!
Nikolai caught himself in mid nod at the story, seeing Kate smile some, probably in an attempt to get him to stop feeling so self-conscious. This cloaked man would, from what she said, sound like the most probable candidate. The only problem was that he didn't have any more of a clue than she did. But more than that, he could feel the frustration and desire to get out of the house. What she needed was something to get her mind off the present situation.
"With luck it won't be anything too bad - and we can do something about the stir crazy," he suggested. "I know that nobody walks in L.A. but we could try to go for one?" *By the Gods, don't let this be a really, really bad idea.*
Kate smiled again at the suggestion; as much as she had enjoyed this morning she could do with getting out of the confines of the house and grounds. Even talking with Nikolai was making her feel better, the sound of a different voice, his Russian accent coming and going in strange waves, it was wonderful. “Sure,” she said in reply, rising to her feet, about to go into the garden to tell the others when she suddenly stopped. “Galen?”
“I’m here,” the man said, going to her side as he entered the kitchen, “Hi Nikolai,” he said casually, a little surprised to see the Russian just sitting at their kitchen table. “What’s going on here then, hmm?”
Kate smiled warmly, using her hands to trace the contours of her husband’s face. She didn’t need to do it but it made her feel better, like when he held her, it was… comforting. “Nikolai just dropped by, I forgot we were supposed to have another practice session… we were just going to go for a walk.” She turned back to where Koyla sat, “There’s a nice park nearby, we could go there?”
Galen took Kate’s hand, squeezing it gently, “Do you think that’s a good idea? You haven’t been out of the house since…”
“I know,” said Kate quickly, “that’s why I need to get out. You don’t mind do you?”
Galen held on to his wife’s hand, reluctant to release it. He didn’t want to let her out of his sight if truth be told; it wasn’t that he didn’t trust Nikolai but that, well he just didn’t want Kate to get hurt. It took a great effort for him to let go. “Just make sure you take care of her,” he said firmly, looking at the other man.
Nikolai nodded, noting the unvoiced concern which Galen felt. Being able to pick up Galen's emotions only drove home the underlying concern even more. "You have nothing to worry about Galen. Kate will be perfectly fine with me," he offered the assurances. It helped alleviate his worry some, but not disappear, and he was at least now more willing to watch her go.
Galen kissed her lightly before they set out, walking towards the park. At first Nikolai did not say anything at all, trying to ensure that he could help her reach the place. The movement was slow, and he would point out things to her along the way to avoid. "So, how is Emma doing?" he finally asked when he was confident that it would not distract too much from walking.
Kate strolled steadily along the sidewalk; her arm looped through Nikolai’s as they walked. She felt a little apprehensive like this; the sound of traffic seemed much louder and closer than usual though she suspected that was just her imagination. Even so she appreciated the extra support Nikolai’s arm offered her, her hold becoming just ever so tighter as a noisy truck rolled past. At his question she glanced up at him, she wondered what expression he wore on his face… a smile… a frown… she could feel the warm afternoon sun and wondered if it was low enough to catch his eyes causing him to squint. Then there was a light breeze… maybe it billowed through his dark hair causing shadows to dance wildly over his face and shoulders.
“She’s wonderful, as always… I think she’s getting to that curious stage where she just want to get hold of everything-” Kate suddenly grabbed hold of Nikolai more tightly as she lost her footing on a loose piece of sidewalk. Nikolai held her firmly and a flood of guilt and anxiety hit Kate from him, no doubt blaming himself for her near fall.
“I’m okay!” she said as they continued on their way. The park would be in sight soon if she could judge the distance correctly. “How about you and Alicia? You seemed very friendly that night at the restaurant…”
Nikolai smiled at the mention of Alicia, while being amused by the story of Emma. Everyone went through the curious stage it seemed - so much so that we had to be encouraged not to ask 'why' all the time since we hit the point where the only answer soon becomes - 'because that's what happens'. "It's been pretty good, we're supposed to be going to the theatre later this week and we spent the better part of yesterday together."
He sighed a little in apprehension, some of Garak's remarks still sticking with him. So far he'd only mentioned the strange dreams in any detail at all to Alicia, and they'd spent some time together poring over old books trying to find the answer.
"That sounds nice," said Kate as they entered the park, the smooth pavement giving way to soft grass and the gravel of a footpath. She couldn’t help but pick up on the worry in his voice though she wasn't sure exactly where it was directed except that something had happened to upset him. "What's wrong?" she asked gently.
Nikolai smiled as they reached the park, he could tell that Kate enjoyed taking in the scent and feel of the place, and wished that there was a better escape from the life of the city than that. It was something that everyone needed, to return to nature from time to time.
"It's nothing..." he started, then stopped with the flat denial. He'd not spoken about it with anyone else, but now seemed as good a time as any. Taking a moment to compose himself, he found the question. "Have you ever had a dream that's a dream, but not really? Like it's some outside power sending it to you in order to talk?"
Kate pondered on Nikolai’s question silently. Of course she could still remember the vivid dreams that Mother Mariah had tormented her with over a year ago – well parts of them anyway. Then there was her ‘gift’ – infrequent visions sent by a divine power that she had little control of. Her last prophetic dream had been such a long time ago she hardly remembered it, a girl running from a vampire that needed her help. She didn’t know why it had come to her like that, but she was always powerless to ignore it when it did.
“I think I can imagine it…” said Kate finally, she couldn’t see Nikolai’s face to know but she guessed he might have been a little confused by her vague answer so she decided to elaborate. “I sometimes get visions, dreams really, of a prophetic nature. Sometimes they’re obvious but normally they’re quite cryptic like a puzzle that I have to solve.”
In the silence that followed she could feel Nikolai’s anxiety, it was obvious there was something bothering him. As they took a turn past some trees, the wind rustling through their sparse leaves, she squeezed his hand tightly in her own. “Is there something you want to tell me Nikolai?” she asked gently, “You know I’ll help you if I can.”
Nikolai rubbed his chin in thought, he had some ideas but what exactly were they? If these were prophetic in some sense, it made things even more confusing for him. The dreams certainly were confusing; in fact Garak had never given him a straight answer so far as he could recall.
Sighing again, he figured that he may as well say something. "It's just that since the start of the month, I've been having - I don't know. Dreams, visions." Now that he was trying to describe the experience, he sighed. How exactly were you supposed to tell someone about this without sounding like someone who just watched too much TV? "I appear to have a fictional character named Elim Garak showing up – and… I don't know what he's doing, but he said something about a `Finding’."
Thinking back on the various texts he had access to, that one small claim which went almost unnoticed the first night - This is the first time I've ever been cast as a Cardassian in all the findings I've done - made the thing seem significant. Only then there was the problem of the number of sources he had available, and that part of him wanted to avoid revealing any of the details to anyone. Talking with Alicia about it had been hard enough; it was just more difficult with Kate. "Amanda loaned me the diary of a watcher who stayed with the Xangyarj, and it seems to be something they all go through and regard as an important, transformative experience. But that's about all I've found so far, they don't really discuss it with outsiders."
Kate listened to Nikolai carefully, it wasn’t so much what he said but what he didn’t say that struck her as more important. His emotions on this subject were all over the place; he seemed traumatised and maybe slightly fearful of the subject as though he were making himself vulnerable just talking about it. She wondered what these dreams involved. Nikolai certainly had a colourful past, there was no doubt about that. After seeing some of the things he’d done as a hit man she wondered how he managed to sleep in the first place.
“I have to admit, I don’t know a great deal about the Xangyarj, though since meeting you I’ve looked into them much more. But like you said, on the whole they’re a very private, detached race, details on their rituals and rites don’t generally pass into the public forum. The only way to find out for certain what is happening would be to find another Xangyarj – though I don’t know how easy that would be.”
She thought for a moment, enjoying the feel of the breeze playing across her face and dancing through her hair. In the distance she could hear the sound of children playing, shouting… laughing… a dog barking far to the right. A sweet, honey like scent assailed her senses and she reached out, her hand trailing through the soft petals of a honeysuckle plant. She smiled before realising Nikolai was still waiting for her to finish.
“I could try talking to a few people I know, but most people haven’t really heard of the Xangyarj. Like I said, they’re quite secretive about their practices.”
"No, no, that's all right," he stammered out, trying to regain his composure. That nagging feeling in the back of his mind returned, that this is supposed to be a personal experience. Something to be discussed with only a few people at once. "That is, they probably wouldn't be able to help, it seems to need a lot of interpretation. Garak... it's strange. He never gives a straight answer to anything, and seems more interested in questioning than anything else."
His concern turned back to Kate and the mysterious man who could be behind her blindness. He was determined not to show it, but he was concerned for her, if something went terribly wrong. "But on a happier note, you've been helping me a good deal with my abilities. I'm starting to pick up on the subtle distinctions between emotions now - do you have any idea how many people secretly loathed Britney Spears?"
Kate laughed at Nikolai’s joke, even if it was a blatant attempt to change the subject. Still something niggled at her mind, something that had been said before, when she’d first met the Russian. “You don’t think…” Kate began then stopped suddenly, her voice falling short, “…well, I can’t help but remember what ‘L’Than’ said that one time, that she saved your body but not the soul?”
She paused again, feeling Nikolai tense up, despite him bringing up the subject it was painfully obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Still she pushed on. If there was one thing she’d learnt about Nikolai in the past few months it was that he had to be practically beaten into talking about his personal life, he built a wall around it and guarded that wall almost religiously.
“You don’t think that could be what’s happening now do you? The ‘transformative experience’… this Garak figure could be a sort of spirit guide figure…”
In fact, the more Kate thought of what Nikolai had just told her the more she became convinced. L’Than had already changed him immeasurably. She’d never known Nikolai beforehand but she had a fair idea of the sort of thing he’d been capable of from helping his ‘merging’. Now he couldn’t even eat steak, never mind deliberately hunt and murder his fellow man. Nikolai had changed so much already but she knew that was a result of his spirit being merged with that of L’Than. If the demoness was going to ‘heal’ his soul then she would have to confront Nikolai with his past actions – after all, no matter what religion you chose it was always the same. A sinner had to confess their transgressions in order to become clean again. And Nikolai was definitely more sinned than sinned against.
It seemed to make sense, Nikolai thought, which meant that he would now probably find a piece of Xangyarj philosophy somewhere that both affirmed and contradicted it. What was stranger was how he’d gotten used to thinking in contradictory terms. Mostly though what made it make sense was the content of their conversations. Always about some way in which Nikolai behaved, or some part of his past. Then there was something else that occurred to him. "It does make a sort of sense - they seem to believe rather strongly in spirit-body dualism to the point where damage to one is reflected on the other. Which is why they usually proscribe a number of non-physical treatments as well for the ill."
Kate stopped in a small bit of shock when he suddenly ceased walking, in the middle of thought. Nikolai tried to think back over the various things which he had read, trying to see if he could search through L’Than’s memories, resting beneath the surface. Was there anything at all about blindness there? Or perhaps just something to mend the spirit, to help Kate to remain at ease? At last he sighed.
“I don’t know if it will help you, but L’Than was big on incense and astrological music. Something about scent and sound being the things that act most directly on the spirit rather than the body. Unfortunately, I can’t recall anything else and would have to hunt through books.” He sighed in frustration at the turn of events, wishing that it were possible to do more for her.
Kate could feel Nikolai’s desperate desire to help her and felt a warmth inside that he should be so concerned after knowing her for such a short time. She held on to his hands, there was something about touch that reassured her more than any of her other senses. The warmth of his hands hid a strength of character that lay deep inside Nikolai, it radiated outwards like the sun and made her certain that whatever L’Than was doing to ‘heal his soul’ it was a job well done.
“I don’t know why what happened to me… happened,” she said softly, “It’s one of the more frustrating aspects of this whole affair. But I have the support I need in Galen… and Jack. You shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it Nikolai, I’m sure that’s why you let Tash convince you to join the White Hats in the first place… friendship isn’t as highly rated as it should be.”
Nikolai nodded, able to sympathise with the frustration. It had to be bad enough to be hexed to lose your sight, but to not know why the person who did it to you was even doing it had to be worse. At least when you knew the reason, you might understand why this sort of thing was happening. But she was right about friendship. “You don’t need to worry about me, Katya, though you are right.”
They continued walking again, and Nikolai suddenly stopped Kate in her tracks. He stood there wide-eyed, looking at a bird on the ground. Shock gave way quickly to amusement and laughter at the pigeon which finished wandering across. “I wish you could have seen this pigeon. It looks like it should be a ‘Godpidgeon’ with a silk suit, off to extort from the other birds.”
Kate laughed at his description, picturing the scene in her mind. “I can see it Nikolai…” she said smiling, “you just described it to me.” She squeezed his hand again in gratitude. It was true, she had ’seen’ what he’d seen, through his words she’d conjured a simulation of that reality in her imagination. She felt warm tears roll down her cheeks and she broke from him to wipe them away.
“Katya? What is it?” Nikolai asked with concern as Kate dried her eyes, “I didn’t mean to upset you…”
“No… no…” Kate insisted, laughing again lightly, “It isn’t that… I don’t know… I feel… happy. I think. I don’t know, these past few days I’ve felt so alone and isolated and scared even though I tried to hide it. I felt like my whole world had ended but, you made me see… you made me see again.” She reached up and traced the contours of Nikolai’s face with her fingers, lightly skimming his angular features. “Thank you Koyla.”
It wasn’t quite happiness that she felt, though he wouldn’t say this. It was a kind of… relief, an uplifting. Not exactly happy, but it made the pains and worries of losing your sight gone, and an underlying possibility that maybe if this was permanent, she could learn to still live well with it. “You are welcome.”
Nikolai closed his eyes for a bit, wondering what it was like to just feel instead of see, picking up the ambient background to it. Part of him wondered what sort of background noise Kate must be picking up as a telepath.
“Yes, the breeze does feel lovely,” he said to her unasked question. A rather surprised look came over Kate’s face as she turned towards him. “Well feeling calm and pleasure when a light breeze comes, you don’t need to be a telepath.”
Kate smiled brightly and they continued to walk through the park. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon after all, she might be a blind witch relying on her telepathy to get her through and Nikolai might be an ex-hitman now reformed and a newly experienced empath but they were still two human beings… friends enjoying a walk in the park nonetheless.
“What are your plans for the rest of the afternoon Nikolai?” she asked after a while. “Are you going to drop by on Alicia?” She smiled to herself at that, it still seemed strange to imagine her ex-employer dating someone like Koyla, she was so straight-laced.
“Unfortunately, Amanda has banned me from the shop when Alicia has to do inventory. Something about being a ‘distraction’,” he could not resist half-joking with her. Amanda really hadn’t done anything like that, but she would be busy doing things for work. “So I had planned to do some meditating finally… it just seems right to take that up.”
“Well of course… you could do that,” Kate said meaningfully as they seemed to turn a corner in the path and head back the way they came. “Or you could play hooky and spend the afternoon with us… there’s going to be barbecue… and I’d love you to stay for dinner.”
Nikolai laughed rather boisterously, feeling like she was just suggesting that they were high school students who should skip homeroom. "That’s a very tempting offer - I may just have to take you up on it."
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Five: Vistas of Destiny
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Five: Vistas of Destiny
Monday, 19 February 2007 – 5:00pm
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
“You have chosen Cookery for $200: Used in the baking of bread, this substance creates an anaerobic reaction when combined with sugar.”
“What is yeast?”
“What is yeast is correct!”
Galen grinned, wrapping an arm around Kate as they lay together on the couch watching the game show. He let his fingers comb through her long hair contentedly, twirling it around his hand and plaiting it before unravelling the tresses to start again. Kate relaxed in Galen’s embrace, listening to the television show with disinterest. She was actually thinking of the lovely time they’d had yesterday with Jack and Nikolai. It had been an almost perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon – hanging out with family and friends, drinking chilled white wine and eating the slightly burnt offerings from the barbecue. It had almost let her forget her previous malaise, making her realise that there life would still continue even without her sight.
“It’s for you,” said Kate suddenly, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth with a smile.
Galen sighed before walking over to the telephone only seconds before it began to ring. He shook his head, laughing quietly to himself. The first time Kate had done that it’d seriously wigged him out, yet now he barely noticed it.
“Hello?” Anderson’s voice sounded at the other end and Galen had to suppress another sigh, it could only mean one thing. Reluctantly he replaced the phone and slumped back down on the sofa.
“That was Anderson, they found another body, this time in Chinos State Park. I have to go check it out. Will you be okay on your own while I’m gone?”
Kate nodded, smiling a little to reassure him. It had only been three days since she had lost her sight and Galen was still incredibly over protective of her, understandably so; it had taken her the past two days to finally recognise the layout of the house but she still had problems if something was moved. Still, since Jack’s firm lecture she’d only moved from strength to strength. Relying on her telepathic abilities more not only helped her with not being able to see, but had made her psychic senses feel wonderfully alive for the first time in years.
“I’ll be fine, you go. Emma’s asleep and Jack should be home later. Besides, I can phone you if I need anything.”
Galen finished tying up his shoes and leaned in to give her a kiss. “Make sure you do, I’ll try not to be too late.”
Orin Trask watched from the shadows as the man quickly jogged down the porch steps and got into his car, just as Carmichael had told him he would. It was a horrible night; the wind and rain were both fierce, whipping up the length of his cloak into a frenzy. Orin waited a few minutes more until he was completely out of sight before stealing around to the back of the house, fighting against the harsh gales for every step.
He could see several lights on inside the house and had to stop himself from laughing. The woman inside was completely blind, it would make little difference to her being surrounded by so much light. *Though that won’t be a problem soon,* he thought to himself with a grin.
He found exactly what he was looking for as he located the electricity panel inside the storm cellar. He waved his hand over the lock and the door popped open. He smiled, looking at the coloured rows of wires before withdrawing a long knife from inside his sleeve and cutting a whole bunch of wires in two. He smiled to himself again as the lights went out and the sound of other electrical appliances suddenly fell silent.
“Okay for $800, your next question is on the country Brazil. Ready?”
“I’m ready, Alex.”
“Then here we go. The answer is… Francisco de Orellana said he ran into this race of warrior women while looking for El Dorado’s gold.”
Kate smiled, not needing to hear the list of options before stating her answer. “Who are the Amazons?”
“Who are the Harpies?”
“Oh no you idiot!” she cried out at the television set in frustration, “Where are you from… the land of eternally stupid people!?”
“I’m afraid that’s wrong Marie. The correct reply is, Who are the-”
Suddenly the power went off and the room was plunged not only into darkness but also silence. Kate picked up the remote control and pointed it towards the television, puzzled that she couldn’t hear anything.
“What the-?” she began, hitting the side of the remote in an attempt to get it to work. Finally she put it back on the coffee table and rose to her feet, doing the usual business of holding her hands low ahead of her in case she should walk into anything again.
She had almost made it to the kitchen when the sound of Emma’s crying made her head snap in that direction. She returned to the living room, feeling her way over to Emma’s crib and picked her up, swaying her back and forth in her arms.
“What happened baby? Did the power go off or something?” She rocked her steadily back and forth, gently rubbing her back as Emma continued to wail. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she soothed, “it’s just a little dark. When Daddy comes back we’ll light a few candles… that’ll be pretty won’t it?”
She carefully made her way into the hall and picked up the telephone. “Maybe I should just call Jack, what do you think? See if he’s anywhere near…” Her voice trailed off as the dial tone suddenly fell silent, she pressed the reset button a few times but nothing.
“Hmm…” she said quietly to herself, she didn’t like this one bit. No power, no phone line… “Maybe it’s the storm, hmm?” she said thoughtfully to Emma as she finally began to settle.
She carefully made her way up the stairs to the nursery. She couldn’t see but outside lightning flashed a few times, illuminating the dark room. Emma squealed a couple of times in response but settled quickly, coaxed by the sense of calm and safety radiating from her mother.
Kate lay Emma down in her cot and tucked her in carefully before feeling her way over to one of the drawers and removing a large green coloured crystal. She felt the ridges in the otherwise smooth surface and knew that she had picked the correct one. Malachite, a child’s talisman representing hope and inner peace and also thought to protect from bad dreams and danger. Kate held the stone in her hands for a while, infusing it with her own energies before placing it at the bottom of the crib. The stone glowed dully, diffusing a light green glow around the crib. Kate couldn’t see it but she knew it was there and that the light would help Emma sleep through the storm. It would also protect her.
Kate walked back down the stairs again; she had felt the presence in house almost immediately, the familiar fluctuating energies, dark power, un-humane presence that she’d felt almost three days ago. She stood at the bottom of the staircase and waited.
“You’ve returned,” she stated flatly, it didn’t matter this time that she couldn’t see him, it wasn’t disorientating, not like it had been the first time. She took a few steps forward and continued to scan the room with her psychic abilities, feeling the energy of the various objects. She ignored them all, instead focusing on the real source of power, the mysterious stranger. Suddenly she felt him by her side. She turned sharply to the left and held out her hands, feeling the soft material of… his cloak? It brushed past her hand.
“I know who you are,” she said confidently, “you were the man at the restaurant, the one who started all the chaos at the solstice, the one who was here three days ago.”
“You left one out,” said Orin with a barely registered smile, coming to a halt just in front of her. “I also created the illusion in the park last year, you remember? The boy who you tried to heal?”
Kate’s face fell blankly, “I see.”
“No you don’t,” grinned Orin again, circling her slowly, “but you will soon.”
Kate turned to keep track with the man; she could feel his essence, his energies surrounding her. He was trying to confuse her, make her lose her bearings. She stood still, concentrating on keeping her focus, maintaining her centre. “So what has all this been about? Some kind of test?”
“The answer to the question: the reason I have been watching you these past four months, congratulations! You’ve just made it through to final jeopardy!”
Kate glared in the direction she hoped he was standing, “And who are you?”
Orin tut-tuted, standing barely inches away from Kate’s face so that she could feel his breath. “You have such power and yet you persist in this charade! Read my mind witch! Or are you too afraid of what you’ll find?”
Kate leaned back from the force of the man’s vehemence and slowly allowed herself to enter his mind. “Orin Trask. Are you always this annoying or are you making a special effort just for me?”
“Enough of this talking!” declared Orin with a flourish. He held out his hand and the long, dark length of his staff suddenly appeared, growing to its full size. He thumped it hard on the floor, causing Kate to jump momentarily in surprise. “I’m going to do what I came here to do. This is your final test witch, so make it a good one.”
Kate stood, waiting, her heart was beating furiously with a mixture of fear and nerves. *A test? A test? What kind of test?* Her mind raced trying to recall everything he’d done so far… a ‘healing’ test, the test of her ‘combat’ in the restaurant, the battle of the elements at the solstice… was that it? If so, what could this test be now? One that required her to be blind?
Kate didn’t have any more time to think before she felt the blunt end of what felt like a long stick strike across her back, knocking her to the ground. She cried out in shock, her head hitting the hard wooden floor with a thud.
Orin stood above her, circling with an arrogant expression plastered across his face. “Get up, fight me witch.”
Kate pulled herself back to her feet only for Orin to knock her down again. She cried out in pain this time, the force of the blow feeling twice as hard as last time. She looked up but of course couldn’t see a thing, just darkness. She felt around for something to help her up, her hands sweeping over the floor until she found the banister of the staircase.
Orin smirked wickedly, this time he sent a ball of energy flying at her, aimed directly at her head.
Kate felt the ball of energy, could sense the impending attack and suddenly ducked. The glowing orb flew above her head, striking the wall with a small explosion.
“Good, good,” said Orin, “you’re getting the hang of this, perhaps we should step up a gear?”
He swung at her with his staff but she ducked and bobbed out of his range. He swung again, twirling the staff with grace and ease. He jabbed it forward and this time Kate was too slow to dodge his attack; the butt of the staff made contact with her stomach and she doubled over, the second blow knocking her to the ground again.
“Better, I can feel your determination. It’s one of your more admirable qualities I must admit,” said Orin, circling her slowly. “Though personally I always thought you were pretty substandard, that is until you’re pushed. But I’ve always believed we don’t know what we’re capable of until pushed. Do you want me to push you, Kate?”
Kate looked up, her head and body throbbing from the beating she was taking. *If only I could get that damn stick… staff… whatever it is, away from him,* she thought.
“Of course, the best way to test someone is to find out what they hold most dear. You have a very delightful daughter Kate, it would be a shame if you were not around to protect her, what might happen.”
Kate threw her hands out in the direction of Orin’s voice, and as she did a bright light shot forth, catching him off guard and striking him in the chest, sending him flying across the room and slamming against the back of the couch. Kate rose to her feet. “You so much as stand in her shadow and I’ll kill you,” she spat menacingly, feeling cabalistic energies burning through her hands.
The protective instincts she felt for her daughter were all the fuel she needed. She pushed out her telepathic senses, strongly feeling the sorcerer’s presence in the room not far from her. She stumbled a little in finding her bearings, but at the sound of Orin’s feet on the floorboards she swung to the right, aiming her hand in his direction and firing a blast of rippling kinetic energy through the room.
Orin felt the power of the blast as it disturbed the natural energy of the air; he leapt to the left in an attempt to dodge the blow though not quickly enough. Luckily for him, the witch’s shot fell a mite short, hitting him in the right shoulder. Even so the power of the blast thrust him back, hitting a table and knocking a lamp to the floor.
A frivolous concern passed though Kate’s mind as she dreaded the state of the house once this was all over. She stood in the room feeling suddenly vulnerable as all sense of Orin seemed to vanish. She stepped around a bit, hoping to get another reading when suddenly she felt a blast of energy hit her in the back. It seemed to pick her up until she met with an obstruction, slamming into a wall and falling awkwardly. The force of the blow loosened a couple of framed prints which fell noisily to the floor, the glass smashing to pieces.
Kate moaned dizzily, feeling disoriented. She knelt on the floor and swept her hands around her to get a sense of where she was. Her fingers met with the broken shards of glass and she winced in pain, feeling blood seeping to the surface. Orin just watched her from his safe distance; he’d had to use a lot of energy to avoid her sensing him and he was feeling the strain greatly. Still, he couldn’t help chuckling to himself seeing her stumbling around, feeling for her way like a helpless child.
*Time to end this,* Orin thought gloatingly, he’d never had the sort of faith in her powers that those Ministry fools seemed to have, and he would take great delight in proving himself right. Slowly he raised his staff, aiming the glowing crystal at her and sent a trio of energy balls flying in her direction.
Kate could feel the menace directed at her, it filled the entire room. As she stumbled over the broken mess on the floor, the sharp objects slicing at her bare feet, she sensed the dangerous energies sent out towards her. She didn’t have time to think, time to counteract whatever attack Orin had issued at her. As she felt the lethal conduits approach she held out her hands in front of her – a last desperate attempt to protect herself.
“Addenseo!” she cried loudly, screwing her eyes up and turning her face away from the source of energy.
Orin could barely believe his eyes as he saw the three balls of energy suddenly halt in their path at the witch’s gesture. They just seemed to hang in the air, undecided, benign, harmless. He looked on in wonder, quickly removing the data orb from his pocket – he had to get a recording of this!
Kate sensed that the impending danger had been halted. It was like everything had switched to slow motion. The rippling energies moved at a hundredth of their speed, seemingly frozen in time. She held her bloody hands out, feeling cabbalistic powers flow freely yet laced tightly together like the strings of a cat’s cradle.
As she slowly opened her eyes she gasped. She could see, for the first time in days she could see! It wasn’t her usual vision, not by any stretch of the imagination. Everything had taken on a strange appearance, kind of like waking from a dream. Everything appeared to glow with a bright living energy force. It was better than seeing, it was like the hand of the gods had suddenly tipped to one side and allowed her a brief glimpse at their world. Objects were no longer bound by their physical perimeters, instead they flowed easily like rippling water or sound waves, the only distinction was the pitch of energies, like a heat detecting camera lens, things glowed in alternating depths of brilliance. It was beautiful.
Kate moved her hands and she felt them part the waves of energy like she was swimming through viscous waters. Through her new vision she could see the three light orbs that still hung in the air awaiting her command. Kate dipped her hands slightly, turning them around until she could feel a hold take place. As her world slowly returned to darkness she pointed her hands out at Orin and the three balls of energy turned about and returned at an alarming pace towards their creator.
Orin’s eyes widened in horror. He quickly ducked, missing the first and grabbed his staff to bat away the second. The force from that blow imploded in on itself, taking a few small pieces of furniture and contracting their mass before spewing the raw timbers across the room. The final orb spun off before returning on track.
“Venificum Converso!” Kate cried, sending her will upon the ball of energy and redirecting it towards Orin.
The terrified mage held out his staff warily, mumbling a quick spell that swiftly disseminated the cabbalistic energies, reducing them to flotsam and jetsam. He heaved a sigh of relief; he hadn’t expected that. For the first time he began to think that maybe he had underestimated the witch.
As Kate’s world rapidly returned to darkness she resumed her concentration. She knew now, felt the mystic forces burning inside - she could beat him. She blocked out everything except her focus on Orin until she could feel his heart beat in time with her own. She breathed steadily, feeling the mage ready for another attack. As he approached, raising his staff in combat she aimed all her focus on him, sending another blast of telekinetic energy out towards him and knocking the staff clean from his hands.
Orin looked alarmed, his eyes following the fall of his staff as he leapt towards it. Kate remained steady, feeling his panic, his mad rush to retrieve his weapon. She couldn’t let that happen. She raised her arm, her hand open, willing the staff to return to her. The long, intricately carved staff twitched across the floor, rolling out of Orin’s desperate grasp before flying though the air into Kate’s outstretched hand.
Kate frowned. Holding the staff in her hands, she could feel the power vibrating through the artefact as focused energies wove their way through its length in tight strands like closely knitted muscular tissue – flexing and relaxing in fluctuating waves. It was obvious to Kate that this was an instrument of extreme mystical potency, not something your average practitioner of the dark arts could easily acquire. More importantly she knew better than to try and control another mage’s tools – though she wasn’t going to let Orin realise that.
Orin seemed to freeze in the room, feeling suddenly vulnerable, exposed without his weapon. “Give that to me!” he snarled viciously, leaping at her.
Kate raised the staff as he approached, using it to unbalance him in the same way he’d done to her. She couldn’t help feeling a flush of triumph as she heard his body crash to the ground. At his second attack she did much the same, twirling the stick in her hands like a quarterstaff, she swung it under his feet knocking them from underneath him. As he sprawled on the floor she jabbed with the length of wood, delivering a harsh blow to his gut and eliciting a guttural moan.
Kate tapped the end of the staff lightly on the floor, using it to determine exactly where he lay then held the butt of the staff at his throat, pressing ever so slightly until she could hear him choke a little, gasping for breath. She let up a bit in order to give him enough air to talk.
“Tell me who you’re working for,” she asked calmly with more authority than she actually felt inside. She was still terrified that Orin might try to attack her; despite her brief moment of clarity she was still blind and that made her feel vulnerable despite her present conquest. “Tell me and I’ll let you go.”
“Okay, okay,” said Orin, his breathing rapid and panicked. If the witch was bluffing with her attack he didn’t care anymore. The Ministry didn’t deserve his loyalty, it would be his pleasure to set this hellcat of a wicca on them. “It was the mi-”
Orin’s voice was suddenly cut short as the front door burst open and two men entered the room. Aimes Carmichael and Michael Gemmel both stood in the room, their eyes trained on Orin.
Kate looked up, feeling the presence of two others in the room, she quickly tried to penetrate their minds to find out who they were but they had strong psychic barriers in place that disallowed her entry.
“You keep your mouth shut, worm!” spat Gemmel. He’d never trusted Zentara’s little miscreant, his loyalty was never with their organisation but with The Order of Valor. Both he and Carmichael had intercepted several communications from Orin to Alaric, no doubt reporting back to his master like a good little doggy.
“Who’s there?” Kate called out, a hint of nervousness peppering her words. “Tell me or I hurt your friend.” She knew the threat was an empty one and if their greeting had been any indication Orin was no ‘friend’ of theirs.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Carmichael, a ruthless smile reaching from ear to ear. “Mr Trask is of little importance to us, though you are… Kate.”
Kate rolled her eyes, “How lovely, everyone knows who I am, how keen. Any chance of an introduction?”
Carmichael was about to say something when suddenly Orin made a move. He kicked out at Kate, sending her to the floor then quickly grabbed his staff and fired a blast at the two men before grabbing Kate from the floor and holding her tightly, his arm wrapped around her throat.
“I should have known you bastards would double-cross me!” he snarled, tightening his grip on Kate who gasped for air, feeling quite frightened. She might not be able to see anything but she could feel Orin’s anger and menace, almost as palpable as his grip around her throat. “You’ll let me go or I’ll kill her, don’t think I won’t, I know how important she is to you.”
Kate gasped for breath again, feeling the life being literally choked from her. Carmichael and Gemmel both glanced at one another. They hadn’t expected for Orin to act so irrationally, it was very un-gentlemanly.
“Don’t be a fool!” snapped Carmichael firmly, “Let her go and we can talk, just… let her go.”
Orin grinned, he might not know what these bastards wanted from the woman but her worth had just been proven. They would do anything to see that she wasn’t hurt. “Back away!” he warned, pointing his staff at them, “Get back, I said!”
It was obvious no one was going to save her and Kate realised quickly that she’d have to take matters into her own hands. While Orin’s attention was focused on the two men she made her move, delivering a sharp jab of her elbow into Orin’s stomach, making him howl in pain. She grabbed hold of the staff, but he wouldn’t let go this time, it was the only thing standing between his freedom and an imminent execution.
Carmichael and Gemmel watched on ineffectually, not knowing what to do as the crystal in the staff began to glow, activated by the raging desperation of the two mages battling over its possession. Suddenly it erupted, sending a blast of energy rippling from its length and knocking Orin and Kate to either sides of the room.
Carmichael acted fast, he grabbed the discarded staff from the floor, breaking it in two before turning his attention to Orin and yanking him from the ground. Meanwhile Gemmel ran to attend to Kate, who looked a little dazed from her fall but okay. He was about to pick her up when suddenly the sound of an applause cut through the room.
“Impressive, simply wonderful,” the voice suddenly seemed directed at Kate. “You have impressed us greatly so far, we shall be seeing much more of each other in the future, I am convinced of it.”
A man stepped forwards from the shadows. Carmichael and Gemmel immediately rose to their feet, bowing their heads and stepping to one side to allow the newcomer to be shown. The man stepped into the moonlight that filtered in through the bare windows. He was of an average height with unimpressive features. His eyes were small and the same mousy brown colour as his thin, receding hair. Yet there was something about the way he moved, confident, self-assured, it made him seem infinitely more powerful than the other three men combined.
The man stooped low and held his hand over Kate; a wave of invisible energy seemed to hold her down, pressing against her body. The man smiled. “How does that feel? Pressing, tight against your lungs, oppressive, crushing…” he smiled again and she moaned a little as he increased the strength of his hold on her. He sighed, “Allow me this small moment of domination. The time will soon come when my powers have no effect upon you, then I shall be completely at your mercy.”
He nodded knowingly, “I’ve placed a great deal of faith in you from the very beginning. You were my choice you see? My candidate.” He trailed his hand against her pale cheek, “There… breathtaking, simply breathtaking. That’s what I thought when I first took notice of you, strong, determined, resourceful… beautiful.”
Kate’s eyes searched through the gradually clearing fog that had been her blindness for the past three days. It was clearing now, as though someone had lifted a veil behind which the world had been hidden. Her other senses tingled with the residual energy from the fight with Orin, imprinting an image of this man upon her mind's eye.
Still, she was drained; coupling that with the force of this man’s spell she could hardly manage to breathe let alone talk, but she forced out the question that was tormenting her for an answer. “Who are you?”
“I am your mentor, Kate.” At her dismissive look he smiled, “Oh you won’t believe me now… but soon… I’m going to make you great.” The man looked down at her in wonder, like she was some sort of otherworldly spirit that he was trying to fathom out.
“And why would you do that?” Kate asked breathlessly.
“I don’t want to give the game away too soon,” he smiled back, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Let’s just say you more than repay the favour.” The man removed his hand from above her body and rose to his feet. Kate gasped for breath; it felt like a lead weight had been removed from her chest.
“Your mother was a powerful witch,” the man said wistfully, almost reminiscent, his eyes lowered in a melancholy fashion, “Not as powerful as you mind, but strong, wise, intelligent.” He turned back to look at Kate as she shuffled up the floor, propping herself against the wall. “You were born into darkness Kate, your exact birthday coincides with the Winter Solstice. I can’t help but find that more than a charming coincidence.”
Kate watched him carefully as her vision slowly returned, she still couldn’t see clearly, the assembled party appearing as little more than coloured blurs before her eyes. She hadn’t a clue what this man was talking about but his familiar tone unnerved her.
“I have nothing for you,” Kate laughed a little, a breathless, light-headed flood of laughter, “I’m no all powerful sorcerer, I’m nothing but a third-rate witch, and not a good one at that. I couldn’t even finish off your emissary,” Kate gestured towards the trio of men, one whom she assumed was Orin, standing silently in the corner, his previous verve subdued by the raging force of Carmichael.
“Are you still here?” the man said turning his gaze to the bald headed mage, “Take him out back will you?”
Carmichael nodded and dragged a frantic looking Orin towards the kitchen.
“NO! NO!!! We had a deal!” he began to scream in objection as Gemmel followed them.
“Make sure there’s no trace of him,” the man added as the three gentlemen left the room. A grin split his face as he turned back to Kate. “You weren’t supposed to defeat Mr Trask, that wasn’t the point of the exercise. If I thought you were capable of killing him you would not be of interest to me.” He gently brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. The attentive nature of his gesture made Kate want to retch.
“Dear girl,” he continued, “initiated into the Inner Circle of the Coven of Sindell at a mere twenty years of age? The youngest ever by all accounts. The last of your bloodline, do you even know how many centuries of Wiccham power surges through your veins? You haven’t even begun to tap into it, to realise your full potential. And your father… that demonic line makes you stronger than mere mortals, you are… undiscovered, a rare almost wasted jewel, content to be average when you could be supreme…”
“You’re good, I should hire you to run my official fan club.” Kate gasped aloud in pain as the man’s face darkened and he pressed down harder against her ribcage.
“I didn’t come here to be ridiculed by a child. Undisciplined, obstinate girl! But that will change, I have already seen the day when you would willingly bow to me in servitude. It is a sight to behold, I assure you. But we are not destined to be enemies, you and I.”
“I have a hard time believing that.”
“Believe it. It is your fate that will bring you to me Kate, and that is already ordained. You believe in fate don’t you?”
Kate’s eyes flickered for a moment, betraying her firm resolve, unmasking her uncertainty. The man smiled and turned away from her.
“I know what your fate holds for you,” the man continued, walking around the room, lifting various objects up for his inspection. “Have strength my young one. You will need it in the months to come for there are dark times ahead for you, more than you can imagine. Life at its most trying. Pain, unimaginable to you in this happy time. But you will survive it all, my people have foreseen it, and when you do you’ll be stronger, wiser and prepared for what lies ahead.”
Kate frowned; it wasn’t that she believed him, this man, whoever he was. But his assured tone, it was familiar… if only she could see him properly. “What lies ahead?”
“Destiny. Yours, mine,” he gestured to the others in the room, “theirs. Great power awaits you, and changes, big changes. I won’t be seeing you for some time but I am always here… waiting, watching, and I eagerly anticipate the moment when we shall meet once more.”
Carmichael and Gemmel returned to the room a few minutes later with no sign of Orin. The former nodded dutifully at his master, a glimmer of comprehension passing between them. The man took one more glance at Kate, fingering the red locks that framed her face with disturbing familiarity.
“Time to go, I’m afraid.” He turned to Gemmel and held out his hand. He returned a few moments later and knelt by her side, pushing back her hair and holding a small hypodermic in his hand.
Kate winced, trying to resist as the man injected the contents into the side of her neck, rubbing the flesh as he withdrew the needle. As her eyelids slowly began to close she could barely focus on the trio that stood above her though she strained to hear their voices before unconsciousness overtook her.
”Should I move her?” … “Think she’ll be okay?”
…
“Fine … her sight should be back soon … not long now …”
…
"This has been a success ... I'll alert HQ in the morning, we have much work to do ..."
…
“I’ll contact you later … you know what’s to come … make sure she’s kept safe …”
…
A hand gently brushed past her cheek - it was the last thing she felt.
…
“Goodnight Kate.”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
12 February 2007
Bibliophile
Early Afternoon
Daye stood inside the big display window of The Bibliophile, arranging the books she was showcasing from an up and coming author due in for a signing later that week. She was setting up hardcovers and paperbacks around a centerpiece that consisted of mardi gras masks, beads, and a curved dagger stained with what was supposed to look like blood.
The author's latest book was a thriller involving a rash of murders taking place in New Orleans during Mardi Gras week. Daye had found the story terrifying and engrossing. She'd finished it in a day and a half. As Daye worked she sang softly to herself, an Irish love song from her youth.
She glanced up periodically as a customer entered the door. She stopped working altogether when she caught sight of a man entering the shop. He was older than most of her clients, and dressed more conservatively. He wore slacks and a blazer in dark colors. He had black hair and wore sunglasses to ward off the afternoon glare. Daye stepped away from the window when he entered. There was something about him that niggled at the back of her mind, though she was sure they had never met.
Nikolai surveyed the inside of Bibliophile, wondering precisely where Alicia was likely to be. Aside from having had fun at the Opera the other night (he was able to admit that they were now a 'couple') and wanting to see her again, Nikolai now found himself having another of the odd dreams. He was determined to try to get to the bottom of this, though he was reluctant to bring it up with her. Even so, he – Nikolai stopped, noticing someone heading his way. She was dressed in a more casual manner like himself, not looking like a customer, and he could feel her curious, if somewhat laid back, attitude. It was the first thing to stand out about her.
He turned to the woman when he reached him, trying to look as congenial as possible. "Good afternoon," he beat her to the punch. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone who works here, would you?"
Daye laughed softly at the man's sudden question. "Well, I just might," she replied. "I'm Amanda Blaise and this is my shop, so I do know a few of the people who work here. Who might you be looking for?"
Nikolai stopped for a moment in surprise, he'd heard the name mentioned but never had a face to put with it until now. "A pleasure to meet you. I was just looking for Alicia Wyldling."
Daye nodded slowly. So, this was the man Alicia had been seeing the last couple of weeks. As usual, Alicia was pretty quiet about the relationship, but she had mentioned in passing meeting a new "friend" and Daye knew the two had been out together a few times. It had stuck with her, because in all the years since the death of her husband, Alicia Wyldling had never before spent any time with another man.
"I'm sorry to tell you that Alicia isn't here right now," Daye said. "She's actually gone to the docks to pick up a shipment. She won't be back for quite a while. Is there maybe something I can do for you, or is this personal business?"
From the bit of clarity that he was able to pick up on, Nikolai gathered that Alicia had said something about him. Still he was a little disappointed and he wasn't sure exactly how much Amanda was in the know about certain odd things. Still, it was possible that she could know something. It was just a question of exactly how discreat he needed to be.
"A bit of both," he was unable to hide his disappointment. "I hope you will tell her I stopped by, but as for the rest... how much do you know about the works of the Xangyarj school?" Of course, it wasn't a formal school of philosophy but the collection of demons, but she didn't need to know that.
Daye's eyebrows rose in surprise at the man's question. Whether he realized it or not, he'd just asked about a species of demons, not a school of philosophy. Daye found that to be very interesting. Did he know, or was he mistaken about what the Xangyarj was?
"Uh... the Xangyarj, you say," Daye glanced around the shop. It was entirely too crowded for this conversation to take place. "Perhaps if you'd come into my office, I might be able to help."
Nikolai nodded, making a small motion with hand to lead on. Amanda led him to the office in a relative amount of silence, and he could now find himself enjoying the ambient background emotion of the shop. He wondered what people would say if they knew that everything they did left an imprint in the place. *Ok, maybe she does know about them,* he thought when they came into the office.
"There isn't a problem, is there?" Nikolai asked lightly.
Daye shook her head, leading the man through the shop and into her office. Once inside, she shut the door and gestured for him to take a seat. Once they were seated Daye leaned forward at her desk, studying the man for a moment.
"First off, would you mind telling me your name?" Daye asked. "I know you've been seeing Alicia, or at least that's what I've surmised, but I don't know who you are really. Alicia Wyldling trusts you, and I trust her, especially her instincts, but still..."
"Of course." He was touched by Amanda's concern for her friend, something that would have shown through even without his abilities. Though this did only reconfirm what he already knew, that Alicia was a rather private woman. "My name is Nikolai, though if you really prefer you can just call me Kolya."
Daye was visibly taken aback by his response. Could it be that this man, Alicia's new "friend" was the same Nikolai she'd heard so much about from Tash? Could he be the same person Tash had mourned the loss of after her return from G'rnatha? How was such a thing possible? What game did the Powers play with all of them?
"Kolya?" Daye repeated softly. "Nikolai? Your name is Nikolai?"
Confusion and more curiosity mingled together in her, making his smile disappear from his face. Relaxing back in the chair, Nikolai removed his shades to put them away. "Yes..." he trailed off. "Is something wrong?"
Daye hesitated, staring into Nikolai's deep brown eyes. He seemed completely unaware of why she was upset and she guessed that was probably close to the truth. He had no idea who she was or on how many levels they were already connected.
"I think you and I have more mutual friends than just Alicia," Daye began. "You see, I didn't know when you came in, but I attended a memorial service in which you were mentioned not that long ago. Of course, I later found out news of your death had been greatly exaggerated."
Nikolai was more than a little surprised to hear that. The only person he could think of who would have been speaking of him at a memorial service was his friend Tasha. If that was the case, it certainly would have explained some of her distress, especially had Tasha not told her friends about his talent for survival. Somehow he managed to keep his composure. "Well, you know the way that rumours are. A little misunderstanding between two people can go a long way to cause problems." *Like happened with Reah.*
He could feel that she was a bit bemused by that, and still also a bit cautious. Not that he blamed her that much when he thought about it, but there were some things that you just didn't talk about. "I would prefer not to say more. I'm sorry."
Daye was surprised by his reticence. She realized that if she didn't speak plainly then there was no way they would ever get anywhere here.
"Nikolai, I believe you are tied to Tash as well as to Alicia, and I appreciate that you want to keep your own counsel. There's nothing wrong with being cautious, but I can assure you that I am completely trustworthy and I would like to help you. What is it that you want to know about the Xangyarj demons? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
Nikolai smiled, almost laughing but just catching himself before he did. At least that got him out of telling her that story. Still, that she was in the know about the occult was hardly surprising. "None at all," he replied. "It's just something I've become curious about lately."
Daye nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I have a few books on the subject, but I'm not an expert by any means," Daye said. "I know what most Watchers know, that being the basics. We study many demon races, but none in depth, unless the need arises."
Daye rose and moved over to a locked case in the office, opening it as she spoke. She withdrew two books, considered a third for a moment, and then finally brought that one over as well.
"These are a couple of treatises on the demons and their 'philosophies', for want of a better word." She place the first two books on the table. The final one she held onto, regarding Nikolai carefully.
Nikolai raised an eyebrow, reaching slowly for the first of the two books that Amanda had put down. He could tell that she was trying to come to a decision regarding the third, probably a book that could be potentially dangerous in the wrong hands. Caution in such things was admirable. He rolled his eyes as he thumbed through the first one. "Interesting thing about some of these works is how they always seem to miss the point, " he began. The knowledge was coming to him as though half-remembered.
"For instance, when one of them focuses just on the practices and not the beliefs behind it. Just glancing through this, the author doesn't understand the connection that Xangyarj medicine makes between soul and body - that to be in health, both must be in balance." Nikolai shut the book, putting it back on the desk. *I'm never going to be fully used to this, am I?* "You don't happen to have any of the original texts aside from the Meditations?"
Daye hesitated. She wasn't sure if they had any of them, but she thought he might be able to use this book. It was a journal, a field journal to be exact. It had been written by a Watcher who had spent a lot of time with the Xangyarj. Daye only hesitated because it was highly unusual to turn such a thing over to someone who was not affiliated with the Council. Still, she felt Nikolai could be trusted and perhaps it could help him.
"I'm not sure, really," she said. "I think I could get my hands on one or two though. I also think this might help you. I don't know how much you know about Watchers, but we keep good records on the demons we've studied. This might be useful to you."
Nikolai raised an eyebrow at that. The woman was a Watcher. Alicia had not told him that little detail about her employer, though it was not exactly the most pressing of details to come up in mealtime conversation. "Thank you, again," he replied, as he accepted the book.
He did not doubt one bit that they would keep as detailed records as they possibly could. But there was still a bit of worry and curiosity there. "You may as well ask whatever it is that you want to. I promise not to be offended."
Daye smiled in a disarming manner. "I'm not sure what to ask. You're very mysterious, but I don't think you have anything untoward planned. I don't think I'll press you right now, but I can't promise to be so circumspect in the future. Just as long as you promise one thing."
Nikolai's smile grew more amused. Everyone always wanted to put everyone else at ease. "Yes?"
"Take care with Alicia," Daye said seriously. "She's not let people in for such a long time. I don't think it would be good for her to get hurt now. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
And the disadvantages of being an empath were once again made manifest. If Alicia had not even mentioned his name, he doubted that she would have mentioned his abilities; and that he knew this far better than she thought. *No wonder she doesn't talk about her boss much. Who talks about their mother on a date?* "You don't have to worry. My intentions are strictly honourable."
Daye laughed softly. "Ok, fair enough. I'm not her mom and I know that I sound like I am. Forgive me, I'm sort of a mother hen. You get used to it, or at least, I assume you do. Just wait until I decide I like you. Then you really are in trouble."
Daye stood. "And I think I've kept you long enough. I promise to let Alicia know you were here, but now I should get back to my shop. Unless there's something else you need from me."
Nikolai stood from the chair, taking the journal in hand. "Nothing that I can think of. Just tell Alicia that I stopped by."
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***January 1st, 2007- Lautari household, Rumanian Woods, Romania- 3:16 pm***
Adriana sat on the couch in the living room and sighed, a large trash bag in hand. The family had made a mess of the house from New Year’s, and now they were spending the day cleaning it up. Drea had cleaned up a good amount of the confetti and beer bottles, but there still was more to go. She groaned at the idea of more work and lay down on the couch.
As she closed her eyes, a familiar voice called to her, “T’e sooner you get back to vork, t’e sooner you finish.”
Adriana opened her eyes to see her Uncle Enzo there, smoking his pipe. She smiled and sat up. Immediately, Drea groaned.
“Just a quickie break, uncle? Surely even you wouldn’t mind,” Adriana said to him, giving him a wink.
Enzo chuckled a bit and sat beside her. “Five minutes. T’en, I can spare you no more,” he replied.
The two sat in silence until Enzo spoke, “How is Los Angeles? I have yet to hear from you about it.”
Adriana sighed. So much had happened, and half of it she wasn’t ready to tell him. “Nothing big. I have a crappy job and I’m trying to get a new apartment. That’s about it,” she lied to him.
All he did was nod his head. Adriana looked at her uncle, who seemed to be observing something within the bookshelves. He moved from his seat on the couch to the bottom shelf. Enzo’s teeth tightened their grip on his pipe as he used both hands to pull out a large, aging book. He rose to his feet and returned to Adriana, slowly. He gave a smile as he looked upon the book. After closer inspection, Drea realized it was a photo album. Enzo ran his hand down the dark brown leather covering, before he finally opened it.
The yellow tinted paper showed four pictures on the first page. Adriana scooted closer to her uncle as he turned the pages and told her about the people in the pictures. Around the middle of the book, there was a sepia picture of three figures that caught Drea’s attention. In the picture, there were three figures. One of which was Alessa, who stood to the right. In the middle there stood a teenaged boy, which Adriana came to recognize as Enzo himself at sixteen. On the left, there stood a fairly young man.
“Who’s that?” Drea asked Enzo, pointing to the man. Enzo studied the picture and a wide smile appeared on his face. He chuckled a bit, clearly lost in a train of thought.
“T’at… t’at is Morris Giles. Good Lord, I have not t’ought about him in a good… tventy years? Yes, it has to be around t’ere,” Enzo said, reveling in memories.
Adriana restrained herself from twitching at his name. But it became more difficult as Enzo detailed to Drea his memories, “Morris vas a good man. A good man, indeed. Vy, he vas t’e von ‘hoo convinced me to move out of Rumania to England and pursue a career as a musician! He did so much for t’e clan. He taught us English, told us about t’e outside vorld, and officially introduced us to t’e Beatles.”
Adriana lowered her head. She really didn’t want to tell him that Morris was now a vampire, the same who attacked Dominika. Drea sighed and looked at Alessa's photo. It was as if she was frozen in time. She looked the same forty years ago as she did now. This part confused Adriana.
Suddenly, an idea came to her head. Drea looked upon her uncle. “I think you should come visit me and Dom in LA for a few days,” Adriana proposed.
Enzo sat in confusion and shock before his niece. After a few minutes of thinking, he finally answered, “I… I don’t t’ink so. Your aunt… you know how she is. I vouldn’t vant to vorry her…”
Drea placed her hand on her uncle’s and gave a small smile. “Aunt Lorraine won’t mind, uncle. You know that. Just call her up and tell her you won’t be home for a few more days,” she encouraged him.
Enzo gave a heavy sigh, taking in his pipe as well. He sat there, thinking. “I’ll be right back. I need to call your aunt…” he said.
A wide smile spread across Adriana’s face. “I knew you couldn’t resist,” she remarked to him.
The elder Lautari rolled his eyes and left the room, heading towards the phone which sat in the hallway. Adriana kept beaming and looked back of the picture with him, Alessa, and Morris in it. She was going to have to call Alessa later and tell her about her little surprise for her uncle.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
February 12, 2007
Nikolai’s Apartment
Evening
Nikolai sat in his apartment with Tolstoy curled up on his lap and a cup of tea by his side as he looked through the Watcher’s journal. It was proving to be fascinating reading. As Amanda had assured him, it was written by a Watcher who spent time living with the Xangyarj. As he looked through the book, he was determined to find information on the ‘Finding’. So far all he had gotten were very little details.
On occasion as he read, Nikolai found himself raising an eyebrow at something that was written. It was just something that seemed to be intuitively wrong. It was always a little thing, a detail of a ceremony, an interpretation. Confusing parts of the religion, which seemed easy enough to do given how baffling the works of their philosophers could be at times.
He stopped for a moment, rubbing the sides of his head. There was a small amount of fear at going to sleep. Whatever this strange figure who haunted his dreams was, it was related to this ‘finding’ thing that it mentioned.
Knocking at his door got Nikolai out of his reading the journal. Putting a bookmark in it before closing it, he got up to open the door. Smiling, he opened the door to greet Alicia Wyldling, who was standing outside. He was glad to see that she had decided to stop by after he had missed her earlier that day. “Good evening,” he said, opening his arms to greet her.
Alicia smiled, embracing him momentarily on the way in. “You seem in a good mood tonight,” she said, waiting for him to shut the door before continuing. “Amanda told me that you stopped by. I’m sorry I missed you.”
“It’s quite all right. A little disappointed that my timing was off, but your boss was still able to help me find something.”
“So she mentioned,” Alicia replied, the pair walking towards the living room. He stopped when she gently squeezed his arm, feeling some of the concern coming from her. “Kolya, is something wrong?”
“Yes, no… I don’t know…” he started. Slowly he pulled away from her, going to get her a glass of water. The tiredness from the day at work was showing, and he was betting that she could use something. When he returned and sat down, he noticed her looking through the journal some. “Since the first, I’ve been having some odd dreams,” Nikolai explained, sitting down in the chair.
He could feel a small twinge of alarm rise up in Alicia, but mostly curiosity. Strange dreams, he knew, could be a portent of something more and wondered if there were demons who fed on or sent these as a form of attack. “I think they’re part of something called a Finding.”
“A Finding?” Alicia asked, taking a drink. There was now certainly more curiosity than anything else. She had eventually heard the story from him of how he came about becoming an empath: a Xangyarj mind merged with his. So she looked into the race some on her own, and found a few pieces of information, to try to understand him better. “How can you be sure? The Xangyarj are a rather private species, and they’re especially private about that.”
“It just seems right. That’s what Garak called it, at any rate.”
“Garak? I think you’ve just been watching too much television,” she teased, though knowing that Nikolai really didn’t watch much TV. Nikolai shook his head some at the bad joke. “That demon you had merge with you… it’s her knowledge, isn’t it?”
“Probably. All that’s really happened so far is that Garak has tried to talk to me, about various things.” He shuddered in remembrance of the long buried memory of his father. Garak seemed to come when he wanted to, usually when Nikolai was at rest. “We talk about either my past or what’s going on now, he’s never straight about anything.”
“He certainly sound like a Xangyarj. They can be so obscure when they want to that Heraclitus is easy to understand.” Nikolai sat down next to Alicia, taking her hand in his. She smiled at him, realising that he didn’t have a clue who she was talking about. “They called him ‘The Riddler’ for always making remarks like how we can’t step in the same river twice.”
Nikolai nodded. It made sense, and he did sound like one of them. “Trying to work out their philosophy is like a riddle many days.” He sighed. “But I think I’ve beat my head on the table doing enough research for one day. Do you want to stay for dinner?”
Alicia’s smile widened. “I would love to.”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 5th
5:00 pm
Alessa’s place
“Vhere are ve going, Adriana? You know I hate surprises…” Enzo groaned, walking down the streets of Alhambra with Adriana by his side, smiling. He was spending a few days in LA before he had to head home to Mount Vernon. Drea claimed that she wanted to show him around the city.
“That’s too bad, uncle. You’re gonna be surprised whether you like it or not,” Adriana replied, giving him a wink. Enzo just grumbled and rolled his eyes. The two then stopped at a nice apartment complex, Spanish styled, with a two story row of apartments and a swimming pool in the center of the patio.
“Here we are,” Drea said, looking over the place.
“They are here,” Alessa said to herself as she peeked out of the window, She had been anxiously checking the patio every few minutes, and she had to collect herself now that her guests had arrived. She was nervous, she hadn’t seen Enzo in more than forty years and she wasn’t as certain as Adriana that the man would be happy about the reunion.
She watched the man with Adriana closely. He didn’t look like the Enzo she had met, but of course that had been almost forty years ago. He must be around fifty at the moment. But his eyes were the same sparkling dark brown and his smile seemed as ready.
She wondered why Dom had implied he was a tight man. She just hoped he wasn’t shocked by her looks, she knew she looked almost the same than then.
She straightened her hair, dusted her non dusty dress and opened the door the moment that the gypsies arrived, not noticing until too late that she had given away her being on guard for them.
Enzo looked towards the now opened and stop dead in his tracks. There stood Alessa, unaltered after nearly forty years. She was perfectly preserved, while Enzo himself had already aged greatly. Hell, he even had lost his tan complexion! Alessa, though, looked as old as Enzo’s daughter, Rosaline, and she was only nineteen years old!
“Alessa?” He asked weakly, approaching her slowly. A small smile emerged from his face as he confirmed that it was her. Adriana looked on with a wide smile beaming.
"Hello Enzo,” she said, beaming at the man. Dios, it was so good to meet old friends again. And he had really recognized her, she had been afraid he wouldn’t remember her, it had been so long ago. “It’s good to see you again.”
Then she noticed she was standing like a statue and quickly added, while moving out of the way, “Please come in. Welcome to my home.”
But as soon as she said that, the two continued to just stand there. Finally, they walked up and gave each other a large hug. The embrace lasted a good minute, before they broke it and smiled at each other.
Adriana looked at the two and smiled proudly. “It looks like you two have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll come back in a few hours, all right?” she said to them.
Enzo turned his head to his niece and replied, “Just be careful. Don’t go in any allies t’at look sleazy, and vatch out-”
Alessa chuckled at this and cut Enzo off, “I’m sure she can’t get into too much trouble getting home,” she gave a wink to him.
The elder Lautari sighed and continued, “Pick me up in t’ree hours, all right?”
Drea nodded her head and repeated, “Three ours. Got it.” She then left the building, with Enzo and Alessa in the hallway.
Alessa watched Adriana leave and turned to look at Enzo again. She couldn’t stop from smiling, and she gestured him to enter the apartment. The man gave her a firm squeeze on her arm and followed her inside.
“Small world we live in,” she said, to fill the silence that prolonged. Enzo still looked at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, she grinned again. It had been a surprise indeed.
“How are you, Alessa? It has been nearly forty years since ve last spoke. Do you know vat became of Morris? Surely, he cannot be alive. He vould be in his seventies now, yes?” Enzo asked curiously.
A shadow of pain crossed Alessa’s eyes, and she lowered her eyes. It was no surprise that Enzo would ask for Morris, he had known both of them together. “Morris didn’t die, but… he was turned, twenty years ago.” She bit her lip and looked at him levelly. “He’s around LA too, unfortunately.”
Enzo’s heart sunk. Morris, a Watcher himself… now a vampire? He couldn’t believe it, but somewhere, he knew she was right. “T’is… t’is cannot be. Morris… he vas… he vas too careful. It cannot be…” the aging gypsy murmured aloud.
Alessa sighed and placed her hand on his shoulder. “It has. I’ve seen him for myself. He was not himself, Enzo. The demon took over. You know better,” she said to him.
Enzo inhaled deeply and dug into his pocket. He pulled out his pipe and placed a new batch of tobacco in it. The pipe was stuck between his lips and Enzo lit it quickly with a match.
“Excuse me, but t’is helps me calm down. It’s addicting,” the elder Lautari said, apologetically.
Alessa nodded, she too needed to calm down. She hated telling Enzo about Morris, she could understand his disbelief, she couldn’t almost believe it herself! Enzo and Morris had linked in a strange way for two so apart in age, and she remembered the boy teaching him how to play the violin and Morris trying to play some rock with it… she shook her head, and then smiled at a less sad memory.
“Remember how you wanted to get me to smoke? I got so sick that I almost threw up!”
“Yes, and he vas so mad at me. He told me you couldn’t take tobacco… I was so afraid t’at I’d killed you t’at I almost died of guilt.” He didn’t need to tell her who he was talking about.
“Only to tell you then that it was a joke, that tobacco wasn’t poisonous for my kind.”
Enzo laughed again, puffing smoke through his pipe. It was hard to think of those days without thinking about Morris. The three had made a nice group, with his little sister Violaine always in tow.
“T’ose vere good days,” he said, and they sat in silence a minute, thinking about the past.
Violaine. Enzo didn’t like thinking about her, mainly since she was just a child when she died. But she always did manage to bring a smile to everyone’s face.
“T’ere is somet’ing I need to tell you about Violaine…” he began.
Alessa listened intently and replied, “Oh, yes! How is she? She would be… forty-three by now.”
Enzo inhaled deeply. Alessa’s smile faded.
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
Enzo moved his eyes to the floor. “A few veeks after you and Morris left, ve vere raided by t’e Council. You knew of how ve had been refusing t’eir offers. Vell, ve vere attacked… and Violaine vas… an arrow… vent straight t’rough her heart…”
The aging gypsy cut himself off. He inhaled his pipe deeply and quickly, restraining himself from breaking down into tears.
Alessa had to fight back her own tears. It seemed both of them had suffered loss after that year. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it firmly. Then she got up to prepare them some coffee.
While she was busy in the kitchen they continued to talk about the good times, carefully avoiding the topics that brought them so much heartache. Finally, when she place the tray with coffee cups on the table and handed him his, she decided to talk about Morris again.
“Enzo, I know you won't like this, but… remember I told you Morris is in LA?”
He nodded and she went on. “Well, he is the vampire that attacked your niece, and he’s been stalking me too.” She paused a minute before going on. “I’m telling you this because I offered your nieces a place to live in a friend’s building. My friend is a vampire hunter and they would be safe there. But Morris is powerful, and any help you or your clan could give us would be welcomed.”
Enzo was shocked by this. He thought about Adriana, and how she seemed so normal. How could he not have realized that she was bitten? Then, he thought of Dominika, and quietly sighed. Figured. His shock was quickly diminished.
“Vell… I vill talk vit my mot’er about I it. She vill be very sad from t’e news of Morris’s siring, you know. But I believe t’at all of t’e Kalderash vould be villing to help you and your friends,” he told her reassuringly. Just then, Enzo remembered something vital.
“My mot’er recently received a vision, terrible vision. Not like she receives anyt’ing else, but still. She saw terrible t’ings happening in Los Angeles in t’e upcoming mont’s. She said, t’at ‘factions ‘hoo vere vonce trustful, have now fallen to t’e hands of evil’. Do not ask me vat t’at means, but be careful,” the elder Lautari explained. After a moment, he added, “Adriana, Dominika, and basically t’e ‘hole clan do not know of my mother’s vision. Dmitri doesn’t even know, and our mot’er lives vit him!”
Alessa just stared at him; she was shocked at Enzo’s words. She remembered the visionary, the woman had been scary as a young woman, mostly because her visions usually were right.
Yolanda had been the principal reason they had gone to the gypsies, Morris had wanted to learn “Gypsy magic” from her. She guessed that her power had only grown since those days, she must be a very old woman by now.
“Yolanda’s visions usually proved right,” she said slowly, and Enzo seriously nodded.
“Just ve careful, ok? And take care of my nieces, I know I can trust you.” Enzo took Alessa’s hand and gripped it strongly, she returned the grip and smiled at him.
“I’ll do everything in my power to keep them safe,” she answered.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 16th
Los Angeles General Hospital
1:30 am
It was night. The hospital’s subdued lighting lent a slightly eerie aspect to the silent corridors. The walls were a pale green color; probably there was a psychological explanation for that, a soothing effect, he thought. It must work in the day, but at night it merely made the place look emptier. Not that Morris was worried by the dark, he was a creature of the night and so was Roxana. He looked at the vampiress next to him; she looked most fetching in her white nurse’s uniform, more so if one disregarded the bloodstains on her lapels.
Roxana noticed him watching and put her little tongue out, licking the original nurse’s blood off her fingers. One, two, three fingers entered her teasing mouth, her eyes daring him to do something. He chuckled and reserved the thought for later, he had more important things to do at the moment.
His informants had reported that the ex-Watcher had regained consciousness not long ago, but he had been biding his time. He intended to turn the old ex-Watcher, but he wanted him in his prime, not prostrated in a bed. It wasn’t the best moment, but after Alessa’s raid on his nest, he didn’t want to wait more.
However, his informers had told him that the old man was recovering quite well, so it was finally the moment to pay a visit to his once best friend. He looked ahead again - there it was, room 317. There was an orderly on the door, the fool dozing off in his post. Morris sneered. He hated inefficiency, not that it would have served the man to be awake, he thought. He signaled the sleeping man to Roxana who licked her lips again in anticipation, before attacking him.
The door opened quietly, but audibly; the man on the bed turned quickly towards the sound, and then winced momentarily in pain. Morris snapped on the light and paused, framed in the doorway, well aware of the effect he made and playing it for maximum effort.
“I was waiting for you,” said the man in the bed.
Ernie looked steadily at the ex-Watcher; although he indeed had been waiting for Morris nothing had prepared him for the pang of sorrow that almost choked him. Morris had been his friend, more like a brother, actually, and he looked exactly as he had seen him for the last time more than twenty years ago. He tried to straighten but he was still weak. Although all the days in rehab had helped him he couldn’t walk yet, but he had prepared Morris a surprise or two.
Morris surveyed the prostrated man too. He was calm, a little too calm if you thought about it, but Ernie had never been a sissy. Morris didn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. He knew the training you got from the Council.
“Oh yes? And how come you are alone then?”
“I was waiting for you. I didn’t want anybody in the way.” He signaled the vampiress with his head, “You can send your whore away too. She won’t be singing today.”
Roxana started to protest but Morris raised a hand to silence her.
“You were always the best when it came to knowing what was going on, weren’t you?”
Ernie just bowed his head. “You know me. You always have.”
“Yes, indeed I have,” the vampire answered with a glint of respect in his hazel eyes. He then turned to Roxana and spoke in quick Italian. “Wait for me outside, cara. I won't need you here.” With a pout the ex-opera singer left the room, closing the door behind her, but not before sending his lover a killing glance.
Morris then turned to Ernie again, and walked towards him, sitting comfortably in the chair next to the bed. He leaned back and crossed his legs, joining his hands in front of him.
“What else do you know, Ernie?” he asked.
“I know what you’ve been doing to Alessa.”
“You always had a soft spot for her, didn’t you?” he joked, eyeing Ernie close. “Maybe you should have tried something when you were younger, old man. I don’t think she’d have you, though, even then.”
Ernie didn’t let himself be affected, and went on. “I also know what you have planned for her. And that you won't succeed.” He paused and added, “We won’t allow you.”
The vampire raised an eyebrow at this. “We? And who would that we be? You and who else? I don’t see anybody else here,” he chuckled. “I don’t think so, old friend.”
“Alessa has friends now, Morris.“
“Oh, yes. She has,” he drawled. “Such good friends that put you in hospital and killed that uppity wife of yours.” He smiled at the shadow of pain that went through the old man’s face.
“I’m well informed too, old man.” Morris’ eyes hardened. “Neither will be of much help that little group of do-gooders she’s gotten into. They all will pay.”
“They killed poor Morris’ daddy, they have to pay,” mocked Ernie, in a whining voice, and was satisfied to see his ex-friend vamp out in anger. It was easier this way, not having to look at his loved face. “What are you going to do now? Kill me too?”
Furious, Morris stood up and glared at Ernie. ”I’m going to turn you. You’ll be invaluable at my side, like in the past.”
Ernie looked calmly up. He had planned this for weeks, and now that the moment was here, he felt kind of peaceful.
“No, you won't, I’ll die first,” he said and grabbed Morris’ arm strongly, surprising the vampire.
From under the covers he took a silver lighter, and easily lit it. The vampire’s face was a mask of terror. He had guessed right, Morris’ human’s death, surrounded by fire, had left him with pyrophobia. He recovered quickly enough, though, and with a wave of his hand the lighter flew, hitting a curtain and setting it aflame. Morris turned then to the bigger fire and hissed… In his fury and fear, not noticing that Ernie had taken yet another item from below the covers. A syringe.
Ernie held the syringe with his right hand and quickly turned Morris’ hand to expose the arteries in the underside of his wrist. As the water from the fire sprinklers showered over them, he injected the needle into Morris’ wrist. The vampire howled, and backhanded Ernie, who fell limply off the bed.
“What is this?” he growled, taking the needle off his arm. He cursed when the syringe broke, its contents burning his skin. “Damn you, Ernie. This hurts,” he said and raised his hand to one of the sprinklers to wash away the holy water.
“Did you really think you could pull a stunt like that?” he purred as he approached the old man. Ernie had somehow retreated but was cornered against the wall.
“I had to try,” he said calmly, and looked at the vampire who was advancing towards him, his game face on. *So, this is it,* he thought. He had known that the injection thing was a gamble, but he had had to try it anyway.
He had known Morris would come, and he had wanted to face him alone. That’s why he hadn’t told Alessa about his plan, he knew she wouldn’t hear of it. In fact, he had dreaded she realized that Morris was prone to pay him a visit sooner or later. He wasn’t afraid to die, he didn’t have much to live for anyway, and if he could take Morris with him, it would be a good thing.
He grimaced when he felt the vampire’s teeth sink into his neck; the pain was excruciating, but at the same time elating. He closed his eyes as loss of blood started to make him dizzy, and Morris was so enthralled drinking that he didn’t notice Ernie struggling one last time. A couple of seconds later he jerked his head off the dying man, the taste of morphine sharply bitter in his mouth. He looked down to see Ernie smiling weakly, another syringe buried deep in his thigh.
It was worth dying, he thought detachedly, only to see the look of utter disbelief in his friend’s face. As his surroundings slowly blurred to nothing the face of his wife got clearer...
“Bugger!” Morris swore, as he watched death slowly glaze his old friend’s eyes.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 8th, 2007
Darian's Apartment.
Click
Click
Click
*Is there anything ever good on TV?* the fae wondered as he continued skillfully channel surfing through the myriad of bad programs.
“Would you just pick one already!” Cole called out from the kitchen table, half annoyed half amused. “Oh stop there,” he continued, seeing the recognizable WB frog mascot pop up on the screen. “I think Smallville is about to start.”
Darian couldn’t help but rolling his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me. The show is so lame, and I don’t know what it is, but the guy who plays Superman really bugs me.”
“It’s funny you say that, ’cause I always thought you looked like him.”
Darian picked up the remote and proceeded to switch channels yet again. “I really don’t see a resemblance.”
The room fell silent again, as the fae fell back into the stupor of television and Cole went back to his readings, Les Magies du Royaume de Nixa et d’autres Esprits Elementales - English Translation. Even though he had sworn off magic, the kid had continued researching into the occult, hoping he could be of some help to the White Hats that way.
“Hmmmm.”
Darian’s eyes shifted from Smallville (which he had finally decided to watch) to his friend. “What’s all the ‘hmming’ about, find something interesting?”
Cole seemed engrossed in the present passage for a moment longer, until finally addressing Darian. “Actually I have. Listen to this: Faeries, Pixies, Dryads and various other elemental spirits are often capable of altering their forms to take on those of animals. In most cases, it is often the Elemental’s soul that governs which animal they can mimic. Bad spirits often take on the forms of ravens, crows, black bears or wolverines, while good spirits more commonly transform into hawks, brown bears, wolves or deer.
“I guess that explains why you can turn into a wolf, while Evexus had you changing into a raven,” Cole said, proud that he had found something useful.
“Oh yeah,” Darian said intrigued, as he got up from the couch and took a seat next to Cole at the table. “Your book say anything else that could help me understand a little bit more of my new powers?”
“Not really, just the stuff we already knew. Of course, I’m not done with the book, so who knows what else there is,” he added quickly when he saw the brief look of disappointment in Darian’s eyes. “Anyways, how’s Adrianna? You got home pretty late last night,” Cole said with a wide smile.
“We went for coffee after the movie,” he replied putting an abrupt halt to Cole’s teasing.
The boy’s face seemed let down when he realized Darian wasn’t going to trade sarcastic remarks with him, so instead, he turned more serious. “So I guess it’s going well between you two. I mean you’ve seen each other almost every night since she got back.”
“Yeah, things are going well between us,” he replied, smiling fondly when he pictured her dropping her coke all over the kid at the concession stand the night before. “Hey Cole, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Darian said unexpectedly changing the topic of conversation.
“I swear I was planning on doing the dishes later tonight,” Cole said, sparing a quick look at the mound of plates in the sink.
The fae chuckled slightly. “It’s not that, although yeah you better clean your mess later,” he joked. “I was just thinking, you should go back to school. The Christmas break is almost done, and you really haven’t missed that much. You’re smart enough to catch up.”
“School?” Definitely not what Cole had been expecting. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about that place since he had left his apartment and moved out on the streets. “I don’t know Darian, after everything that’s happened, and everything I’ve seen in the last few months, it just doesn’t seem worth it.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“We’re constantly surrounded by vampires, demons, apocalypses, I mean we could just die at any second,” Cole said. “People with our kinds of lives don’t need calculus to survive.”
“Correction, my kind of life,” Darian said firmly. “I, being over 200 years old and not quite human, don’t really have a choice. What else am I going to do other than fighting demons and monsters? You, on the other hand, have your whole future ahead of you. You have the option to go to school and do something normal, something safe.”
“Well who said I want to do something normal, or safe? What if I want to fight demons like you do?” Cole said defensively. “I think it’s a pretty noble profession.”
“Cole, demon hunters generally have a short expiration date, especially those with no magical abilities. Now that you don’t do magic, you wouldn’t really stand a chance in a fight.”
Cole was about to protest, when Darian cut him off. “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but just hear me out. Go back to school, get an education, and then when you are older, if you still want, fight the forces of darkness. At least that way you’ll have the choice to do something else with your life.”
Cole stood there contemplating for a moment, until finally coming to a quick conclusion. “Ok, I’ll go back to school on one condition.”
“What’s that?” Darian replied relieved.
“You don’t keep me out of the loop on any of the White Hat info,” Cole said decisively.
“Fine.”
“And I want you to let me come hunting with you someti-”
“No way,” Darian interrupted, not even letting Cole finish that sentence.
“Come o-”
“Nope.”
Cole began to laugh. “Fine fine, I’ll just rot away with my books then. I’ll probably die of boredom way before a vampire could kill me.”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Darian replied as he walked back to the couch, and returned his attention back to Smallville. “You know, I really don’t see the resemblance."
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Saturday, 6th January 2007 – 1:15pm
Adriana and Dominika walked down the street to see the aging building that was known as 1318 Poplar Avenue. Drea looked down at the paper that Alessa had given her with Tash’s address on it. Dom looked up at the building.
“It looks like a very charming place…” she commented in her thick Rumanian accent. Adriana smiled. The girls then waited patiently for Alessa to arrive.
As soon as Alessa turned the corner she saw the two girls standing at Poplar’s door. She waved and hastened her pace.
“Hi,” she said, a little breathless. She smiled and looked up, herself. “An imposing place, right? I’m sure you’ll love it. Did you ring already?”
At their denial, she approached the door and rang Tash’s apartment bell. Soon it was clear that nobody was home. Alessa frowned, and then remembered her friend had told her she might be in her office. Saying so to the girls, she proceeded to ring again.
Tash closed the account books with a sigh. It really wasn’t her forte, but she simply hadn’t had the time to find anyone to look after the Foundation’s books. It wasn’t exactly the sort of thing you could take down to your local accountant. And Victor had had a lot of contacts amongst the artefact collectors, contacts she was having to re-establish painstakingly. Still, it looked like she was getting a good price for those 4th century Chinese pottery pieces, and she was happy enough. Glancing at the clock she gasped; she hadn’t realised how much time had passed. Alessa would be here any minute now with the two women she’d spoken about.
Almost as though in response to her thought, the buzzer in the office sounded. Tash smiled and picked up the receiver. The camera mounted on the front steps showed Alessa with two young women who looked remarkably similar. “Come on in,” Tash said as she pressed the door release.
She met them at the second floor landing, greeting Alessa with a warm smile. “I really should just give you the front door code, I suppose, you’re here so often these days,” she remarked before turning to the other two. “Hi, I’m Tash. Which one’s Adriana and which one’s Dominika?”
Adriana smiled shyly and spoke up, “I’m Adriana, and this is my sister, Dominika. Um… don’t be confused by the accents. Just take my word that we are related, unfortunately.” She gave a wink to Dom, who was ready to give her a dirty look.
Tash smiled at the women and gestured for them to follow. “Come on upstairs. We’ll talk in my apartment,” she said to them and headed up the stairs. Alessa followed closely behind, while the Lautari girls kept in the back. Finally they reached Tash’s apartment. She opened the door, revealing her luxurious, large penthouse. Adriana stood in shock while Dominika looked about the room, studying it.
“Peter has von just like t’is in Moscow. But it’s not as nice, mainly, because it's in Russia, I guess,” she commented.
Adriana turned to Tash and smiled again. “All right, let’s talk apartment wise, I guess,” Drea told her.
“Well, Alessa said you were looking for a safe haven, particularly from Morris.” Tash shared a significant look with Alessa, “It’s a problem we’ll be dealing with very soon, I hope. But I do have an apartment that’s empty, if you’d like it. It’s not so large as this one, I’m afraid, but the rent’s very reasonable.”
Tash had to smile. Most of her ‘tenants’ weren’t paying rent at all - she was more than happy to have her fellow White Hats close at hand. Alessa herself had admitted she didn’t really know either of the girls very well, so Tash wasn’t quite ready to extend full membership to them yet. But from what Alessa had said they obviously knew about the denizens of the night, at least.
Remembering her duties as hostess, Tash moved towards the kitchen. “Would anyone like a drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?”
Alessa smiled at her friend. She had so much to tell her too, about the meeting she had had with Enzo and all they had talked about, but this was not the moment. She could wait until the next meeting. “I think the girls are too anxious to see their apartment, Tash, to want a drink.” She caught Dom’s wink and laughed. “We can always have something afterwards.”
Tash turned to the sisters and raised an eyebrow. “Up to you. Something to drink, or see the apartment now?”
Before Adriana could say a word, Dominika quickly said, “Let us see t’e apartment. I vant to know vat changes I need to make.”
Drea gave her a dirty look and replied, “Thanks for asking my opinion, Dom.”
The younger Lautari rolled her eyes and turned towards the door, where Adriana saw, tucked in Dominika’s arms, the dog Sashenka. Drea groaned and commented, “You brought the rat? And he’s asleep? What wonders seem to amaze me…” Adriana looked at Tash again and asked, “Are pets allowed in the building?”
Tash cast a speculative eye over the small animal. “He should be fine, so long as I don’t find any messes in the hallway.”
She led the way back downstairs to the first floor, and apartment 103. As Tash unlocked the door and let the sisters in to check it out, she commented, “You’ve got a couple of neighbours down here.” Alessa entered the flat and Tash followed in last, “There’s Darian right next door, in 109, and Jeet is across the hall from him in 106. The front office is the door opposite this. We don’t really use that any more.”
Adriana’s face glowed a bright pink. She had been in the building once before, and that was on her date with Darian. *I guess I should spill the beans…* She turned to Tash and explained shyly, “I was here once before… on a date… with Darian.”
Tash’s mouth hung open for a moment, then she chuckled, “Of course, everyone seems to know everyone else in this town. Well, I hope the date went well, ‘cause you’re neighbours now.” Suddenly the sense of familiarity that had been nagging at Tash resolved itself. “Oh, of course!” she exclaimed.
At Adriana’s surprised expression, Tash clarified, “I kept having this feeling I’ve seen you before. You don’t work at Bob’s Bar, by any chance?”
Drea lowered her head a little and nervously replied, “Actually… yes, I do. But it’s only temporary, until I graduate from University.” She figured the sooner she got out of that bar, the better. The stories she’d heard about it were not good, and she didn’t want to be there when one of those became a reality.
Tash nodded, “I thought I recognised you. I was in there, oh, a couple of months ago now when I spotted you.” Her expression darkened and she addressed Alessa, “That was the night I first found out James was out for my blood, the little shit.”
Alessa quickly averted her eyes, hoping that Tash believed it was because of her former sympathy for James. She felt bad keeping things from her friend, but James’ story with Adriana wasn’t hers to tell. Besides, the girl seemed pretty determined to keep the vampire out of her life. She noticed Tash fingering a recent scar at her throat, a reminder of that fateful night with James, and she gritted her teeth.
“Well, Bob’s bar seems to be the place in town,” she joked, trying to change the topic. “Everybody meets everybody there. I must get to know the place.”
Tash could tell there was something unspoken going on there, but put it down to Alessa’s admissions at the meeting a couple of weeks ago. She knew Alessa felt some sort of gratitude to James for his help with Cole, but there was one thing Tash had learned over the years – vampires were vampires. *Hell, even Jade showed her true colours in the end,* she thought bitterly, thinking of her best friend’s defection to Valerian’s side.
Trying to smooth the frown lines from her face, Tash went along with Alessa’s attempt at humour. After all, she didn’t want to scare off Adriana and Dominika with talk of more vampires – Morris was enough for them to worry about.
“Well, the dècor at Bob’s is certainly unique,” Tash agreed, “And the guest list is exclusive. Only the best scum are allowed in.”
She turned back to the sisters, who had been checking out the other rooms as they talked. “Well, what do you think of the flat? I’m afraid the view isn’t great, unless you like ‘drab alleyway’, but I guarantee if anyone comes calling for you they’ll have a building full of demon hunters on their tail.”
Adriana gave a little smile at Tash’s comment. “I think we can handle it,” she said, giving a wink.
Dominika’s face lit up when she heard this. “You are meaning to tell me t’at t’ere are actual demon hunters living in t’e building?” she asked, excitedly. The girls had heard many stories about them, but they rarely ever met some.
Tash glanced sideways at Alessa. She had no idea how much Alessa had told the pair about herself or the rest of the White Hats, but presumably she had to have reassured the sisters that the group could help with their vampire problem. “Well, yes. I’ve been hunting vampires myself for... Gods, nearly fifteen years now.” Tash shook her head in amazement. There were times even she didn’t believe she’d survived so long in such a tough vocation. Mind you, having had Matthias around for the first eleven had helped her longevity enormously.
Vampires. Of course, the first thing, or more correctly, person, that popped in her head was James. She tried to push him out of her thoughts, but to no avail. Drea leaned on the wall and sighed as she let Dom continue to talk of Russia’s boringness. The topic of James around here, from what Adriana could tell, was a touchy one.
Tash listened to Dominika’s ramblings with half an ear, but her attention was sharply focused on the other girl, Adriana. Her thoughts were of vampires, but not in general - Tash was certain she was thinking of James. Tash caught Adriana’s eye and her questioning look had the young gypsy blushing. “You’ve met more than one vampire, haven’t you?” Tash asked boldly.
Dominika looked at Adriana intently, confused. Adriana fidgeted nervously. She quietly answered back, “A… a few. Mostly during work. But that’s about it.” Drea didn’t know why this woman asked her that, but she kept herself on guard. Tash didn’t need to know about her tryst with James, especially after what he had done to Tash.
Tash wasn’t mollified, but she subsided, making a mental note to talk to Adriana later on perhaps, when there weren’t other people around. It was apparent that there were things she’d hidden from her sister, at least.
“Well, I’m sure,” she said, going along with Adriana’s coverup - for now. “There are plenty of vampires who hang out at Bob’s. So,” she made her voice brighter, changing the subject, “what brought you two to LA in the first place, anyway?”
Adriana froze. She had forgotten all about her job: Watching over Angelus. Dominika looked over her nails and blankly replied, “LA is much more fun. Besides, my boyfriend lives in Russia, and you vouldn’t vant to live anyvhere t’at Peter is.” Suddenly Sashenka squirmed in her arms. “Oh, I t’ink he needs go... you know...” And Dom hurriedly left with the dog to take him outside.
Drea watched her sister leave, shaking her head at Dom’s devotion to the rat-like dog, then she looked at Tash and simply said, “University.” She figured Tash didn’t need to know her original intent of being in Los Angeles.
Adriana’s aura flared brightly for a second, betraying the lie she’d just uttered. Tash cocked her head at Alessa questioningly, but her friend just looked between the pair of them and shrugged. For all Alessa knew, Adriana may well have come here for University, though she sensed that Tash thought otherwise.
Tash glanced out the door, but the gypsy’s sister had disappeared, presumably to take the dog for its constitutional. “University, huh?” Tash knew she was pushing, but she didn’t want people staying here who already had connections to a nasty vampire like Morris - and probably James as well - to hold back any other surprises. She was just surprised that her seemingly innocuous question had caused such defensiveness in Adriana.
“So, what sort of University? You don’t strike me so much as the lawyer type. Look, I’m sorry if I seem inquisitive, but if you’re under my roof I think I deserve to know if there’s anything potentially dangerous you’re here for.”
“I want to be a teacher, just like my aunt,” she said, beginning to smile. “She teaches for 7th graders out on the east coast. Watching her do something she loved for all those years got me thinking that maybe teaching would be a good idea,” Adriana continued. Drea revelled in the prospect of graduating in early June, and finally was able to find a much safer working environment than Bob’s.
Tash was confused. For one thing, Adriana seemed totally unaffected by the harsh questions Tash was putting to her, and for another her new statement felt like the truth. She couldn’t reconcile the current truth with the original lie. She was sure it was a lie... “Hmm,” she pondered for a moment.
Alessa, meantime, brightened up, casting a look at Tash that clearly conveyed that she thought she was being too hard on the young woman. “A teacher!” she exclaimed. “I am... well, was a teacher myself.” The two smiled broadly at each other, until Tash cut in again.
She’d realised her fundamental error as she’d thought back over the questions she’d asked. Adriana apparently did indeed go to University here, but that wasn’t the reason she’d come to LA, Tash was convinced.
“Oh, good, well you’ll have something to talk about later,” Tash suggested, “But for now I’m still curious. You’re studying to be a teacher, but that’s not why you came to LA, is it? As I said, I’m sorry to seem harsh but if you’re under my roof I feel I should know if you’re mixed up in anything dangerous.”
Adriana quickly shook her head. “No! No, nothing like that… But I am…” she trailed off. *Well, she’s offering you an apartment, the least you can do is tell her about “the family” and your job!* Drea sighed and continued, “I’m a gypsy. My clan, the Kalderash, cursed a vampire by the name of Angelus over 200 years ago with a soul. My job is to look after him until my grandmother, the Head Elder and the clan visionary, appoints someone else.”
Tash relaxed, relieved that it was nothing too sinister. “Oh, ok.” She smiled, “Sorry for the third degree, but... well, you can’t be too careful these days. Angelus, you say? Seems I’ve heard of him. I heard he was meant to be in LA somewhere, supposedly crazy. But I thought that was just a myth. Are you saying he’s really here? And he really does have a soul?”
Tash could hardly credit it; the idea of a vampire with a human soul seemed unthinkable – but then, the idea of a human/vampire half breed had seemed unthinkable until she’d met Jade.
Adriana smiled at Tash and Alessa. “He’s as real as the three of us. I just haven’t been able to find him, though. He’s damn near impossible to locate,” she commented. A burden on her shoulders had been lifted, and Drea had to admit, it felt good.
Changing the subject, Adriana looked around apartment 103. After a moment of silence, she asked, “The place looks big enough. How much is rent again?” She flashed a smile towards Tash.
Dom returned with the – presumably relieved – dog, and the women quickly settled on a fair price. Far cheaper than Tash could have let it go for, but Poplar Avenue wasn’t there to make money. That was the job of the Foundation, and thinking of that she knew the accounts still beckoned her upstairs.
She took her leave with a sigh, saying, “If there’s anything at all you need, or you have any problems of any sort, don’t hesitate to call me, day or night. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Adriana, Dominika.”
Tash smiled at the pair and left, bidding farewell to Alessa on the way out, to go back upstairs to those dread accounts.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Sunday, January 7th
afternoon
Nikolai paused by the meats for a moment, trying to pick the best kind of meat to try to give himself a heart attack. At the moment the choice was between a couple different kinds of steaks. Finally he made the decision easy, chucked both back, and just decided to press on instead. The large amount of worry radiating from the man nearby helped make that decision much easier, of course.
Everything blended together in this place, though there was a background feeling of desire to get out of there. Most people seemed to be living their lives on fast-forward, no longer taking time to enjoy the pleasures of the simple things in life. *Ah yes, fruit. That’s what I forgot,* he thought, heading off to that area of the store. When he finally got there, Nikolai started to get to work on selecting a group or oranges.
The fruits looked delicious, luscious actually, thought Alessa as she carefully went through the fruit baskets, but she knew for experience that they lacked in flavor and aroma. *Nothing like a banana right from the tree,* she said to herself. Suddenly a wave of nostalgia went through her with such force that she had to lean on the apples’ basket to control herself, the apple forgotten in her hand. Memories of the rain forest flashed in her mind, and she longed for her home. LA had never seemed more inhospitable. She looked at the people around her; they went by on their business without looking left or right, never a nice word, or a smile. She shook her head and looked at the apple in her hand, watching its red perfection but also the puncture that marred its bottom.
“It’s rotten inside,” she said, and she didn’t know if she was talking about the apple or the city.
Nikolai stopped in his tracks at the sudden feelings of anxiety and worry. This much above the normal. What was it with his luck today, and finding everyone like that? The distraction was enough to make him drop the bag on the ground, jumping in surprise as several of the oranges went rolling across the floor.
*Oh great, just great,* he thought, scrambling about on the ground to collect them all. It was with some amount of surprise when he turned to collect some that he found someone else was actually helping him. “Th-thank you,” he said to the woman, realizing that she was the one radiating that anxiety. Nikolai ran his mind though one of the techniques that Kate gave him to try to block out the feelings. “I seem to be something of a klutz today.”
Alessa laughed as she tried to grab the last orange, and almost lost her balance instead. “Klutz? That one is new.”
She finally palmed the fruit and handed it to the man. She hadn't noticed an accent, but she always found it amusing when people used words in other languages, like she did all the time. *Maybe the language teacher in me,* she thought and another wave of sorrow went through her. She missed her job too. She missed the children. She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts, and looked at him again. She smiled. “What is that? German?”
Missing, regret. Nikolai forced a little laugh, figuring that if nothing else he could give this woman a laugh to carry home. He wanted to do something to help, but if he did that for everyone he met, he would never have reached the store. “I think my German teacher would have insisted it was invent by a little old lady from Leningrad.”
Alessa laughed and looked at his brown eyes. “Russian then. You don’t look Russian to me,” and immediately regretted saying so. She laughed again. “I’m sorry. Look at me. I hate stereotypes and I find myself saying something as silly as that. I’m torpe myself,” she said and winked at him.
Nikolai blinked, tying off the bag of oranges before putting it back in his cart. It was either an ethnic group he had never heard of or agreeing with him about being a klutz. From the bit of playfulness that came through, he guessed the latter. “I’m sure you’re not that bad,” he started, feeling some of the anxiety return. “Thanks for the help with the oranges,” he said, refocusing to block the emotions out.
Alessa frowned. The man sounded strained, and his eyes held something… strange. “I’m sorry, I was only joking,” she said, and leaned to touch his hand. But he moved away brusquely, and there was a look of fear in his face. She retreated her hand. She knew that her Latin effusiveness sometimes startled or annoyed people, but it had never scared them. She looked at him more intently. The man’s face was tense, it looked almost haunted.
“Is there something wrong? Can I help you?” she asked, leaning closer but trying not to look as if she would touch him. She smiled, trying to convey the idea that she wasn’t some supermarket wacko.
“My name is Alessandra, and I’m from South America.” She smiled at his intrigued expression. “Now you are wondering where did that came from, right? It’s just that all us foreigners should unite in this country of quiet Americans.” She gave a merry laugh.
Nikolai gave a small chuckle at that last, a bit embarrassed at the fact that now he was becoming another source of worry. “In Russia, we have a saying: ‘You needn't be afraid of a barking dog, but you should be afraid of a silent dog.’”
He gave her that half smile of his that people tended to remember him for later on. “My name is Nikolai. Sorry if I seem a bit put off, there’s just a lot on my mind at the moment.”
She liked his smile, and the light in his brown eyes when he joked. He looked younger.
“See? We have another thing in common! There’s the same saying in Paraguay. Perro que ladra no muerde. A barking dog doesn’t bite.” She simulated a frown, “But I never quite understood it. What if the dog stopped barking and bit you anyway?”
Nikolai laughed at her bad joke. She started to walk with him towards the cash registers. She had everything she needed anyway, and the man looked as if he could use the company. “So, Nicolás, what else do we have in common?” *Apart from a lot on our minds, that is,* she said to herself.
He shrugged his shoulders at the question momentarily, unable to answer. Or at least unable to answer directly. "Haven't got the slightest clue, except we're both from a ways off." In his mind, he remembered what 'home' would have been like this time of year and was glad to be in Los Angeles instead. The cold was so bad it froze the snot in your nose. A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Try not to worry so much. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”
Alessa looked at him again, puzzlement in her face. *Worry so much?* She wondered if something in her attitude could have given herself away. She looked at Nikolai again, intently. His brown eyes looked at her as if he knew her. She had had that feeling with people she didn’t know before, the last time it had happened had been not too long ago, with Tash. *Telepathy?* she wondered, but she hadn't felt her mind being invaded, and she usually could tell when it happened. She dismissed that notion; no, it was something different.
“How did you know?” she asked, but her eyes held interest rather than fear or aversion at his knowing.
“See enough masks, you pick up on them,” he lied, which was true in a way. She was very good at appearing to be at ease, almost a natural at it. At the very least that went better than he thought, not sending Alessandra away in fear. “We all wear them every day, putting on appearances for the sake of others.”
He could not help but be amused by a thought. “Perhaps I should change my name to Dr. Phil?”
That made her uneasy, his reference to masks was too accurate, taking into consideration her shapeshifter’s nature. “Masks?” she couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean with masks? What have you seen in me?”
The unease at that caught his attention. Perhaps ‘masks’ was poorly chosen, but why would that make someone uneasy? *Maybe she had a bad experience with a clown.*
“Just a woman caught up in the anxieties of life, trying to go on but unsure of where to go.” There, that was broad enough to cover a lot. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Alessa smiled again, albeit a little forced. The man should have been a diplomat, that answer was worthy of the best of them! She assessed him with her eyes; they were changing color, but she didn’t realize it. They had now a stormy quality.
“No,” she said slowly. “It’s more than that, and I guess you know it. And you haven’t upset me, only intrigued me. It seems to me we have more in common than what we first thought.”
Nikolai noticed her eyes change color, and somehow remained fairly impassive. *Trick of the light or something more?* Still, if he was supposed to have picked up more, she could have been hinting (broadly) at something. His mind raced with a way to march around the issue.
“Perhaps,” he allowed, “the ball comes in a direction the goal keeper does not expect.”
She smiled. Another thing in common, soccer. But he was avoiding her question. Maybe she was wrong and he hadn't seen through her, but still she was intrigued.
She gave a nervous look around, they were still standing in the line of cash registers, and many people were sending them strange looks. *My eyes!* she thought, as she saw a woman look at her intently. She quickly put on her sunglasses, cursing her inability to control that aspect of her nature. "Inés never has this kind of problem," she muttered, and then a little voice in her added, *Maybe because she doesn’t mind.* Dismissing the thought, she looked again at Nikolai.
“Maybe we should talk in some other place?” she asked, hoping the man agreed with her.
Nikolai was more than a little curious at finding out what the cause of that changing eye color was and had a feeling that such a conversation would lead to it. Perhaps she had picked up on the admittedly cryptic hint.
“There is a Starbucks down the street,” he suggested.
Alessa agreed, and they made more idle talk while moving through the line, getting groceries packed away. When they finally reached the place, it looked like any other Starbucks: a yuppie joint that you just expected someone in there to be wearing a beret and typing haikus on a computer. Fortunately it was a quiet place.
“You know, I think this place is part of the secret American plot to take over the world,” he joked.
“Well, they haven’t gone too far overseas to do so… MacDonald’s, maybe. In fact it is the first time I’m in one of these.” She looked around a little confused, there weren’t any waiters, and then looked at him for guidance. Nikolai smiled at her confused looks, and led the way towards the bar.
“We just ask what we want,” he explained, and started to make his order. Alessa imitated him.
A few minutes later they were sitting in a little table in a corner, facing a window. But now that they were alone and could talk she didn’t know how to start, maybe she had been silly and Nikolai was only assuming she was making a move on him. She bit her lip and stirred her cappuccino. She didn’t know what to say.
Nikolai felt the anxiety returned, unsure of what to say himself as he sipped at a Chai tea. She thought it was more than her emotions he had picked up on, he remembered, then there were the eyes that remained hidden behind shades.
“So,” he finally broke the silence. “It seems the silence speaks loudly.”
Alessa raised her eyes, taking off her glasses. She only hoped they were back to their normal green, she was calmer now. She smiled at Nikolai, now that they have come so far it was better to stop beating around the bush.
“Sí…, we were talking about masks…” she gave a nervous chuckle, “but I have the feeling I got your meaning wrong.” She cocked her head and looked at him in the eye.
“What have you seen in me?” she asked again. ”Because you can see through people, right? That much is clear to me. What are you… a telepath?”
Nikolai almost snorted at that. It would have been funny except that he could pick up something, a feeling of genuine curiosity of the kind that comes with true belief. A brief coughing fit later he regained his composure. *Damn. I was not expecting that.*
“Not exactly. Life is hard enough as it is without hearing everyone’s thoughts.”
He stopped for a moment, thinking before going on. “Still, it could be worse. I could have to subsist on a warm protein diet.” Which would do, he thought, for a creative way of saying he could be a vampire until a better one came along.
Alessa smiled. “Nah!” she said. “The last time I saw a vampire he wasn’t enjoying Chai tea in the middle of a sunny afternoon… what is that Chai tea stuff anyway?” she asked, casting an overly suspicious look at his steaming cup. She was happy to see that she hadn't been mistaken. He wasn’t as normal as he seemed.
Nikolai felt a small bit of triumph at having interpreted things right. At least this meant that he could avoid beating around the bush in talking to her. “I’m not entirely certain what it is, but it tastes quite odd,” he admitted. “It appears we do have more in common than we thought – we know about vampires.”
“And telepaths,” she agreed, “So what is it? You pick auras? See the true nature of people? Because that mask remark really gave you away.” She was still intrigued with that comment, and wouldn’t be happy until she got to the bottom of it. At least they were now talking more openly.
Confusion came up in Nikolai. What was it with this woman and masks? He really hadn’t meant it to mean anything except the kind of metaphorical remark that might make you go, ‘oooh, psychologist.’
“Let’s just say I’m a very emotional person and leave it at that.” From the amused snort he figured that she had worked out what he was hinting at. “I should have said something about actors playing parts.”
“You would have gotten the same response,” Alessa chuckled and shook her head. “So you really didn’t mean anything especial with the remark. That’s funny, so it was me that gave myself away, after all.”
“So much for being cryptic. How is masks so appropriate? I can only assume you meant something more.”
“You really don’t know, do you?” At his weak smile she chuckled again. “I thought you were like a friend of mine. She can read auras, you see, and she’s quite good at it. But even she couldn’t see my true nature at first, thankfully. And here I am, exposing myself to a total stranger.” Then she shook her head again. “And a stranger who is cautious enough not to ask me directly what I am.”
Nikolai nodded at that. He had learned long ago that one had to be cautious, in a life where the only solid thing was ‘word on the street’ and life was judged by a dollar amount. “Funny, I know an aura reader as well.” For a moment he had the thought that it must be Tasha then shook his head at it in amusement. “But you have to admit that even if we can’t help that the world is a very strange place, most people don’t see it that way.”
“True. Sometimes I wish I lived like that, in an ignorance bliss.” She gave a little laugh, “So much with wishful thinking!”
“I had that luxury for a long time,” Nikolai replied steadily, his mind drifting back to everything that had happened over the past few months. “Unfortunately it is very difficult to rationalize away an interdimensional expedition.”
She looked at him with rounded eyes. “So you weren't born like this? Dios, it must be hard.” She couldn't but feel grateful herself. “At least I belonged to this world from the beginning.”
“Hard is not the word for it, when you one day…” he trailed off, shaking his head again slowly. How to explain it? “Turning on light after sitting in darkness.” That he realized worked in more ways than one.
She smiled. “I never thought of it like that, but you are right. One must never wish for ignorance, darkness is not welcoming.”
Part of him wondered if she knew how many different layers there were to that statement. Another part of him wondered at where that came from. *Well, at least you aren’t hallucinating anymore.* A distant look came over his face for a moment, trying to sort everything out. “Unfortunately, I have to get home to feed my cat before Tolstoy decides to go nuts. It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Alessa smiled at him again. “One never should leave a cat unattended. The little creepers never forgive you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you too.” Impulsively she took his hand in a strong shake. Too late she remembered his rejection to contact of a little earlier, and let go of the grip. “I’m sorry,” she said when she saw pain in his eyes.
"Don't be, I'm just of two minds about the matter," he joked with some degree of truth before the pair parted company.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Reah’s Apartment
Saturday the 30th, December, 2006
15:29
*What exactly did she mean by ‘I’m so sad’?* Reah frowned as she stared after the front door Quin had recently departed through. *Mopey? She actually called me mopey and depressing! Get on with my life?* Sure! Reah could admit that she may have been a little quiet of late. And why shouldn’t she be? She didn’t have an aim in life anymore! As far as Reah was concerned, she was perfectly justified in her actions. *Well at least I don’t cry in the middle of the night and shred my sheets to a thousand pieces. WHAT THE HELL’S UP WITH THAT? That’s two nights she’s done it now. Manchester is not cheap!*
…
Oh, who was she kidding. Quin was right! She was a pathetic mess.
“Stupid instinctive Quin,” Reah moaned to herself, slumping down on the couch with her head buried in her hands. It was one thing to be depressed, another to have someone bluntly point it out.
Changes needed to be made. She couldn’t keep living in the past like this. That was over, but she wasn’t! She still had a way to walk before her path ended. She just needed to get out! She just needed to move on!
Reah sighed, the moment’s inspiration reverting back to a hopeless oblivion… “I need Dre’an…”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Poplar Avenue
Saturday the 30th, December, 2006
19:45
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
Damen sat stiffly behind the wheel of his car, the motor idly running, pulled up on the kerb opposite 1318 Poplar Avenue. “This is fucking ridiculous. I’m going to get my fucking head ripped off, but no! That’s not a good enough reason, is it?” he muttered grudgingly around the cigarette jutting out the corner of his mouth, a steady tendril of smoke curling from its burning end, wisping out the open window onto the street. “Fucking conscious… And fucking Nikolai! What is up with that man! The woman’s tried to kill him twice!”
“Fuck it!” Damen slammed the wheel with his fist, switched off the ignition and crushed the cigarette butt into the overflowing ash tray before flinging the car door wide open with a piercing screech.
Heavy foot falls clicked across the asphalt road towards the apartment entrance as he forced himself onwards, practicing multiple openings over and over again, cursing on occasion and subconsciously pulling out another cigarette he eagerly lit up and sucked right through before entering the building.
“Hey Reah, how are ya? You know that whole thing with kidnapping you and beating you shitless, sorry about that...”
“So, I was thinking about you the other day and how we really fucked around with you...”
“Want coffee?” *Want coffee? What the fuck?*
“How’s your head schnookums?” *Fuck no!*
“Hey! Wanna help me slit my wrists this afternoon? Sure beats trying to fucking apologise!!!”
Damen sighed as he reached Reah’s door, staring blankly at the numbers drilled into its sanded face. He had to stop himself from lighting up as he reached inside his coat for another cigarette.
His last thoughts, as he knocked on the smooth surface, were that of what his tombstone would say…
‘knock-knock-knock’
After a moment’s wait with no answer, Damen, eager to leave as quickly as he could without having to see her, let alone talk to the bloody woman - he knew his guts were as good as sold to the local Chinese store as soon as she set eyes on him - turned his back for a swift exit when there was a sudden ‘click’ from the door.
“Damen?”
His heart sank. *Fuck!* That voice!
“Reah!” he boomed with false enthusiasm, turning smoothly on his heel to face her and suddenly noticed the drawn features of her face, his tone softening as he felt a sharp pang of guilt spear him through the chest, “Fuck! You look like shit!” he paused, frowning, “Are you okay?”
“What do you want, Trigger? Why the bloody hell are you here?”
That’s it! He couldn’t stand it any more. “What? Have I missed another fucking meeting or something? A guy can’t fucking apologise! Fucking women, you’re all the same. Only you, you’re the worst! I swear! Do you have 24/7 PMS or something? Seriously, you’ve got major issues!” He was so dead! He knew it. But strangely, he couldn’t give a flying f- “Do us all a favour and GET OVER YOURSELF!”
“OW, FUCK!” There wouldn’t be a soul in the whole building who couldn’t hear that, if they were home, as Reah slammed Damen into the door opposite her open apartment, gripping his throat tightly in one hand, his feet clear off the ground.
“Me get over myself?” Pulling him off the wall she hurled him as hard as she could through her still open door, “What gives you the right to come over to my house and abuse me like that, huh?” Reah yelled furiously, storming into her apartment and slamming the door behind her with a loud ‘bang’.
“Shit, Reah! I think you broke my back!” Damen coughed, but Reah just ignored it and stood right over his sprawling body.
“I’m sick of being told I have problems okay?”
“Maybe it’s because you do. You’re fucking ins-”
“SHUT UP! There’s nothing wrong with me. You’re the one who came here with the problem.”
“WHAT!” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She looked… “Reah are you okay? I really think you need some help! What… what are you doing?” She’d lowered herself, straddling him with her knees, pinning him to the ground.
“How about you get over me.”
*Ow! Back! Ah… Wha…? Lips?* Damen pulled away from the sudden contact, “Hey! Hold up! I’ve heard stories about how this goes with you.”
She almost seemed to be as surprised as he was for a moment, until a cunning grin suddenly cut across her face. “And?” she punctuated her point with a sure thrust of her groin against his.
Damen was ready to argue, then paused thoughtfully…
“Good point!”
“Whoa! Haha!” Reah screamed in surprised as he swiftly managed to turn the tables, rolling out from beneath and sweeping her up in the process…
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 17th
Poplar’s training room.
4:20 pm
Chance walked into Poplar’s training room to find Alessa there, practicing with her sword. The sword he had given her. She wore only a tank top and pants, too big to belong to her. Her own dress and jacket lay on the floor, like a pool of dark cloth. Alessa worked though the movements of her routine with vigor. It was artful, quite beautiful in fact, Chance thought. The blade was an extension of her own body as she moved fluidly, swinging the sword at an imaginary opponent. Chance chucked humorlessly, he didn’t doubt who that might be. He leaned on the door to observe her a little longer. Alessa’s fighting style was imaginative. She had been trained by a Watcher after all. She had been out of form when they had started training some time ago, but her learning was there, and after a few sessions with him and Tash, she was becoming good once again. She had taken the White Hats’ offer to train at heart.
Chance wasn’t sure how long Alessa had been there, but he guessed from the sheen of sweat that covered her that it had been a while. She had asked him to leave her alone after the funeral and he had complied. But as hours went by, he had been about to return to the cemetery to look for her when he got a call from Tash telling him she was in the building’s training room. He had hurried to Poplar after that.
Alessa spun around towards his direction, swinging the sword downward, and stopped when she saw him. She stood still for a moment, breathing heavily but otherwise remaining silent. Chance spoke first.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she replied, and after a moment she continued her routine, launching into a complicated attack. Swinging the sword around she twirled and lunged with it at the same time.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Chance asked.
“What’s there to talk about? He’s dead,” she said simply, not stopping her movements.
“Alessa, I’m sorry.”
“What’s there to be sorry about? We just have to kill him.” Her voice strained with grief and anger. There was a fighting dummy in the corner. She focused on it, and moved towards with her sword swinging, taking the dummy’s head clean off. “So, no sense getting upset about it, right?”
“That’s just half of it. I wasn’t talking about Morris, I was talking about Ernie,” Chance said calmly.
“But it’s the half we have to deal with. We can't solve the other half. Why dwell on it?” Her voice was becoming increasingly angry. She looked up at Chance, but at his silence she became frustrated and threw her sword into the practice mat on the floor. It plunged in a few inches and stayed there. “Why?”
“What?”
“I want to know why. Why is he doing this to me? Why can't we find him? Why didn’t I think of protecting Ernie?” she cried at last, the only question she really wanted an answer for.
“I don’t know,” Chance answered softly. He blamed himself for not thinking of Ernie’s safety too. After all, a hospital was a public place and the ex-Watcher hadn't been safe in there. Not from Morris, at least.
“Why not! I thought you knew everything, it certainly seems like it! All those centuries’ knowledge you harbor.”
“I don’t have those answers Alessa, for all my experience.” Chance sighed, “I wish I could tell you that it will get easier.”
“Yeah, well it sure looks easy for you!” she spat.
“You think this is any easier for me? Ernie wasn’t my friend, but I respected him. And it was me that put him in that position, don’t forget about that! I’ve been around a long time Alessa, and I’ve seen a lot of people die. A lot of people that I cared about. I just didn’t want it to happen to you too.”
Alessa growled with anger and frustration as she kicked the fighting dummy. Then she broke into tears. Chance walked to her, pulling her into his arms. She fought him at first, so full of anger, none of it focused anywhere. But after a moment she just fell into him, and cried.
“Oh, Dios! I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“He’ll never be gone Alessa, as long as you remember him, he’ll always live on.”
Alessa nodded, recalling the similar words that the priest had used at Ernie’s funeral. But she just didn’t feel it. All she felt was the pain, and the guilt.
“I’m sorry Chance, for the horrible things I told you.”
“It’s okay,” Chance said as he held her tightly. She wasn’t the only one feeling guilty, what he had told her was true. He had put the old man in the hospital, after all.
She cried some more, and Chance found himself teary-eyed too. Not for his own pain. No, he had gotten used to pain a long time ago, but for her pain. Her pain would always be his, and there wasn’t anything he could do to make it better.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***** 07th January 2007- Los Angeles Airport *****
Introducing Vivek Oberoi as Vivek a Bhim
The lights buzzed. Not the pleasant sound of bees or hummingbirds in spring but an annoying metallic noise that droned and mingled with the shrill whine of machines and a woman’s voice on the overhead speaker to create a cacophony that threatened to deafen Simryn. She refrained from clapping her hands over her ears to shut out the grating noise and pushed her way through milling bodies to grab her luggage off the strange, revolving metal contraption that Vivek had indicated earlier and placed it on the cart that he had also acquired for them. Then she waited, moving away from the worst of the crowd to lean against the wall and sent her gaze upward to where stars illuminated the deep purple sky displayed through the glass casement.
A plane flew by, its blue and red lights flashing unnaturally in the indigo, star strewn sky and the Kshatrani shuddered. She would never sit on one of those things ever again if she could help it. Just remembering the queasy feeling of rising into the air as enough to make her sick all over again. Closed inside the too-small metal box and tied into place by the restraining belts, her life depending on a man-made contraption she had very nearly given into panic on numerous occasions. She was convinced that if man were meant to fly he would have been born with wings, though she herself had flown before… Simryn’s thoughts traveled back to the day she had been sent down to the earth upon a winged steed and razed the armies of her enemies. That was the way to fly, and she closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth turning up at the memory of her hair flying open in the breeze as she wove through the clouds.
Vivek approached; having spoken between minds often enough Simryn was familiar with the impression of his psyche, and sensed him before she saw him. Tracing his way through the crowd with practiced steps he held out a set of keys that he jingled in her face with a smug grin that had her rolling her eyes.
“Let’s go,” he said and commandeered the cart with their baggage, Simryn narrowed her eyes at his demanding tone but he had already turned away and didn’t catch the gleam in her fathomless, green eyes. A gaunt, pasty woman shrieked beside her ear and wincing the Kshatrani pushed away from the wall to follow Vivek; her need to get out of there was much greater than her need to ignore his order.
Once they had gone through customs, with Vivek doing most of the talking, they stepped out into the chill night air, so different from the temperate humid nights of her Bahrut and Simryn rubbed her bare arms, thinking dark thoughts about Vivek who hadn’t warned her about the weather.
“Come on,” he motioned to her with a flick of his hand, not bothering to even look back and her back stiffened, her hands fisted as she wondered whether she would be able to survive in this foreign place without him. She wasn’t completely useless, raising her hand as she’d seen others do, she beamed with satisfaction when a yellow taxi stopped in front of her and the driver exited his vehicle to open the trunk.
“What are you doing?” Vivek demanded his voice a mixture of confusion and incredulity, he came to her side and caught a hold of her forearm, “I’ve already arranged for transport.”
Disbelieving that he had actually put his hand on her, Simryn easily broke from his hold in a fluid motion and gave a slight push to his chest so that he had to catch himself awkwardly against the cart or risk a painful fall. Catching his eyes she spoke into his mind, “I do not need you here, whatever your father might think. Especially if you persist in ordering me around as if I were a child!” She watched as he winced, though that might have been from the volume of her psychic voice rather than her words.
When he had steadied himself on his feet, Simryn reached out to lay her hand softly upon his shoulder, and spoke aloud, “Go home, Vivek a Bhim. I release you from your duty and from the curse that has been the bane of your family for generations.” At his shocked look her eyes softened, “The aura of the curse no longer surrounds you… you are free. Go. Live. Be happy.” With those words she turned away feeling a moment of sadness, he was the last link to her homeland and to leave him would seem as if she were severing that tie forever.
Watching the interplay from the corner of his eye, the driver continued stowing their bags in the back of his car. “Wait,” Simryn addressed the man, the exotic yet unfamiliar accented cadence of her speech catching his immediate attention. “Only these, please,” she pointed to the bags that she knew held her own possessions and thanked him when he shut the trunk with a resounding ‘thunk’. Opening the bright yellow door, the Kshatrani slid into the clammy interior and shut the door firmly, still new to this form of transportation to be nervous. Vivek still hadn’t moved as the car started up and go forward, and with a sigh Simryn sent a little prayer up to the Gods; hopefully he would heed her words. As the driver picked up speed she resolutely faced forward refusing to look back as Vivek’s accusing dark eyes followed her flight.
* * *
The alley was dark and empty, and garbage littered the paved streets emanating a foul scent that Simryn shied away from with a tired grimace. She was tired, she was hungry and most important of all… she was lost. Berating herself again for giving into the compulsion to send Vivek away, she gazed down the street wondering what would happen if she asked one of the figures huddled in the darkened doorways to guide her. They didn’t seem all that reliable, and neither was the taxi driver who had dropped her off here in the middle of nowhere after discovering her lack of funds. That was another foolish thing she had done today added on to the growing list of her injudicious decisions.
At least the driver had not driven off with her things and with a sigh Simryn picked up her bags, and began walking down the badly lit street with the resolve that if she kept on walking she was sure to meet someone eventually.
Footsteps, numerous ones began trailing her halfway down the street and Simryn’s ears perked as she tried to distinguish the hushed words passing behind her. Words like ‘cash’ and ‘fuck’ reached her ears but she did not understand, however the sense she got from her stalkers was not a friendly one and the Kshatrani who never fled from battle picked up her pace. Unfortunately, her mysterious stalkers did the same and Simryn knew fight might be inevitable after all, and her first day in the country too, she thought with disgust.
“Get her!” a grating male voice cried from behind her Simryn found herself bound in vise-like embrace, her attacker’s arms going around her body to still her struggles. Regrettably for him, she was prepared for the attack and more importantly she was not a mere simpering female to be threatened by them. Dropping her bags, Simryn jerked her head backward so that it cracked loudly against her assailant’s nose. With a shocked cry of pain and surprise, his hold around her loosened and the Kshatrani twirled around, slipping her hand through the skillfully sewn pocket of her loose skirt to unsheathe the Kattar strapped around her thigh.
The blade glinted as Simryn faced the two men, her green eyes blazing with the same fire as when she had gone into battle hundreds of years ago. Silently she congratulated herself for not listening to Vivek’s insistence to leave her weapons packed away; the man had no sense of the dangers that threatened the world. Her two assailants blanched as they caught sight of her knife and simultaneously backed away, and with a sniff of disdain Simryn realized that they were boys, barely men with their smooth, beardless faces and panicked blue eyes.
“Hey lady, we were only kidding ya know,” one said glancing anxiously over his shoulder to his companion then back at the Kattar in her hand. “Yeah,” the other boy smiled weakly and held his hands out in a placating gesture.
The sudden glare from a headlight rent the alley’s gloom and Simryn threw her hands up as her eyes dilated madly causing them to sting. The two ruffians, taking the opportunity of her distraction quickly fled, their footsteps soon swallowed up by the night. A car door slammed, Simryn quickly resheathed her blade but obviously not soon enough and a familiarly strident voice slashed through the silence, “I told you to leave your weapons in your suitcase! What if someone caught you with that, do you know what problems that would have caused? What were you thinking? Obviously you weren’t, to go running off like that, what if something had happened to you? Do you know what I had to go through to find you? Get in the car before you cause any more trouble!”
Vivek’s red-faced fury continued, but Simryn refused to apologize though she knew she had not exactly been in the right. Retrieving her bags, she strode in tight-lipped silence to the car and practically threw her things in the back seat before settling in the front with her arms crossed belligerently over her chest. Throwing his hands into the air, Vivek slid into the driver’s seat slamming his door with more force than was warranted. “Put your seatbelt on before you get us into any more trouble!” he barked and Simryn silently struggled with the flimsy strap before it finally stuck.
Refusing to help, Vivek stared straight ahead until she was done before projecting into her mind, “I’ve already arranged for lodging near the place where you said you sensed your Sacha Pyaar.” He infused the two words with mocking derision and her eyes darkened in fury, but he didn’t seem to notice and continued, “Don’t try to run away again and don’t think that we’re done here. You and I are going to have a serious discussion about the rules!”
Simryn pointedly ignored him and he didn’t expect any form of consent from her. Revving the engine with a sharp twist, Vivek reversed and drove in angry silence, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. Probably imagining that it was her neck, Simryn thought and stubbornly turned to look out the window on their long drive to their new home.
* * *
*Sacha Pyaar*= True Love
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***January 20th, 2007- Bob’s Bar- 11:15 pm***
The bitter cold of the night nipped at the faces of Bob’s patrons. As the door was opened, the figure was urged to close the door by the look of everyone in the bar. Their faces quickly changed to one of fear as the all seemed suddenly interested in their drinks.
James walked over to an empty table near the back, took off his coat, hung it over the chair and sat down he scanned the bar for some familiar faces then he saw Adriana. A smile spread across his face and he shouted her over, “Hey Drea, long time no see.”
Adriana looked over to see James there, with the same smile he always gave her. The color in her cheeks drained as soon as she remembered what he did. The horrible things he did to Tash. Drea pretended not to have heard him, and continued working. If she was lucky, he would give up on her, have a few drinks, and leave.
James' heart sank. *She saw you and ignored you man,* he thought. He spoke even louder this time. “Drea, how’s it going?” He watched as she twitched her head a bit. *She is definitely ignoring you.*
James walked up to Drea and tapped her on her shoulder. Drea turned around and looked at him with fear. James, still smiling, spoke to her again. “Why you ignoring me?”
Adriana moved her now enlarged eyes away from him and said to him quietly, a coldness in her voice that replaced her welcoming warmth, “Hi, James. Kill any vampire hunters lately? It would make up for what you didn’t do back in December.” Drea quickly walked away, serving drinks to a couple of demons across the room.
The smile on James’ face dropped like a stone. Suddenly he couldn’t look at her in the eyes. *She knows…* That was all he could think. James’ head suddenly perked up and he quickly moved over to Drea. As he reached her he tapped her on the back and told her, “I... we… Can we talk please?”
Drea simply turned her back on him and continued to talk to the customers. James stared at the back of her head.
“Please, I need to explain to you… why-”
Drea turned around and walked up to him and stared into his eyes. “Explain why you tortured some innocent woman half to death!”
She gave a heavy sigh and looked over to Bob. “I’m taking my break, Bob,” she called to him.
He gave her a puzzled look and replied, “You just took your break.”
Drea groaned and shouted to him, “I’m taking my break, Bob!” She then grabbed James’ hand and pulled him outside. As the door to Bob’s closed, Adriana looked James in the eyes, her eyes oozing with a cruelty to them.
“Explain,” was all she said.
James leaned against the wall and looked at Adriana in the eyes. “My excuse is… I have no excuse for what I done.” He broke eye contact with Drea and looked at his boots. “I am a vampire… I am an evil monster without a soul.”
James looked back at Adriana. His eyes were filling with tears. “ I was cursed long ago… and now I am having to repay it with this feeling.”
Drea looked at him with disgust. “Are you trying to say you have a soul now?”
James shook his head. “No… just remember it.”
Adriana looked at James with confusion. “What do you mean you remember?”
James took a second to think about it and started to explain. “When I was embraced as a vampire, I wasn’t just cursed as a demon, I was cursed by my sire Lucian. He set the demon free to do what it wants.”
Drea looked at him even more confused this time. “And that makes you different from other vampires how?”
James decided he had to tell her. “You wanted to know why I have so many scars on my body… Why I have that massive tattoo around my bicep…” James began to explain his origins, and the meaning of the scars and tattoos.
Adriana gave a heavy sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. “You’re avoiding my real question, James. You told me that you have no excuse. And then you went on and explained on why you’re different from other vampires. You even went into detail about your past. But that doesn’t answer my question. Why did you torture Tash? There’s a reason. I know you well enough to know that you don’t like attacking good people. I mean, I know she’s a vampire hunter and all, but my family, gypsies none the less, hates, curses, and once in awhile, kills vampires, too, but you don’t come after me, torture me and threaten to sire me! What did Tash do to you to drive you to nearly kill her?” she said, pouring her heart out.
Drea could feel hot tears run down her face. Her fingers touched near her eyes, and she quickly glanced at the wet mascara that stained them. Adriana’s large eyes returned to James, waiting for an answer.
James eyes swelled with tears. “Because the monster that was inside of me fell in love with a vampire called Ebony... and Tash killed her.”
Adriana went completely silent. Her body just froze. It didn’t even bother to drop her jaw. Finally, after a minute of silence, she finally managed to ask him, “You… you did all that horrible stuff… just because she did her job?” Drea took her eyes off James and onto the ground. She then moved past him, to the door to Bob’s.
James didn’t even try to stop her, because he knew he couldn’t. “Just promise me one thing before you leave.”
Drea turned and looked at him. “Sure. What’s that?” James took a card from out of his pocket and placed it in Adriana’s hand. “If you are ever in trouble... call me...”
Adriana looked down at the card and back at him, her large eyes full of tears. She placed the card in her pocket, and then slowly walked back into the bar, her eyes never leaving James.
James walked off down the street. He tried not to look back at the bar but he couldn’t help it. Before he finally turned the corner, he took one last look at Bob’s Bar. He knew he could never go back there...
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***January 31st, 2007- Bob’s Bar- 1:15 am***
Adriana eyed the clock on her cell phone carefully. Fifteen minutes. She was tired and desperately needed some sleep before she had to face a class full of six year olds in the morning, as a part of her courses. A voice then called out, “Adriana! Table in the back!” Bob placed a few drinks on the tray near her. Drea sighed and put her phone away. She picked up the tray and walked towards the customers.
She reached a trio of demons and gave each one their requested drink. An elder demon smiled at Adriana and commented, “That pretty little face of yours isn’t gonna cause any fights tonight, I hope.” The demons at the table chuckled at the wisecrack. Drea smiled, although she was embarrassed. There had been a few fights in the bar because of her. Bob figured that so many pedestrians were fighting over her since decent looking girls aren’t a common thing there.
As Adriana arrived back at the bar, someone burst into the room, causing all heads to turn to the entrance. There stood Nispami, the demon hustler himself, who had been missing since the beginning of December. Just about every customer groaned and returned to their original business. Drea fidgeted uncomfortably and Bob gave a heavy sigh as he leaned on the bar and placed his face in his hand.
Nispami rushed over to where Bob was, gasping for air. Bob shook his head and murmured to him, “What do ya want, Nispami? Why did I ask that? My year was turning out so well, too…”
Nispami’s heavy breaths continued. Even at that, he let a few words slip, “Island… demons… danger…”
Bob sighed and grabbed a shot glass from under the bar and dropped it on the counter top under a common beer dispenser. He quickly filled it up and then slid it to Nispami. “It’s on the house,” Bob said miserably.
Nispami quickly drunk it and replied in his thick Cockney accent, “Well, it should be! Tha’s th’ shittiest lique’ I eva ‘ad ‘n me enti’e life!”
Bob groaned and dug his face deeper into his palm. “What was that you were talking about before you insulted my products?” he asked sorrowfully.
Nispami stood up straight and held his head high, as he always did before he made a deal or proposal. “I wen’ down t’ me ‘erb fields down in Pan’ma back ‘n December, when I heard things ‘bout this crazy island off th’ coast o’ Col’mbia. Weird shit ‘as been goin’ on fo’ ‘bout a month.”
Nispami then leaned closer to Bob, whose face was now removed from his hand and listening intently, as was Adriana, “The’e ‘ave been experiments of s’m sort bein’ performed on demons. B’zzare shit, too. I knew this nice ol’ Loas demon there who would neva hurt a fly who, from what th’ local townspeople say, disappeared ‘bout a few weeks befo’e. I tell ya, Bob. S'mthin's th' fuck up down there," Nispami explained in a low whisper.
Both Bob and Adriana remained silent. Finally, Bob spoke, “Nispami, that has to be… the most retarded thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life!”
The demon’s jaw dropped, revealing his razor sharp yellow teeth. “Fuck you, Bob! Fuck you! I give ya good, solid information, ‘nd ya call it bullshit! Screw you, asshole!” he angrily shouted and left the bar in a huff.
Adriana continued to stand in silence. She turned to Bob and softly asked, “Do you believe him?”
Bob began cleaning a glass as he replied, “Nah. Nispami is a bullshit artist. He does this all the time.” He put down the glass and looked up to the whole room. “Hey, do you all remember when Nispami came in last February and said zombies were overrunning the cemeteries?” Bob shouted to the customers. From one side of the room, a roar of laughter erupted.
A zelthic demon raised its voice, “Yeah, and it turned out to be just some dying heroin junkies!” The whole bar began laughing hysterically. Adriana stood there, horrified that they all thought dying humans was funny.
Another customer replied, “Remember when Nispami claimed to have found a portal to another dimension which really was the entrance to a brothel when he was drugged up on E?” By now, some were laughing so hard they were falling off their chairs.
From the corner of the counter, a vampire with a lisp spoke up, “Yeah, but you all theem to be forgetting thomthing. For as many timeth ath Nithpami’th been wrong, he’th been right,” The bar went silent. All eyes focused on the lone vampire.
“Back in June, he came in and thaid, and I quote, ‘The Brotherhood hath reunited, and until the day of all thingth hallow, they shall rule the thity.’ He wath right; Up until Halloween, the Brotherhood had almotht complete control over LA.” The room was so silent, one could hear a pin drop.
The vampire reached into his pocket and slapped a $20 on the table. “Keep the change,” was all he said and he left the bar.
Adriana just stood there, shocked before she decided to brush off the whole incident.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Saturday the 30th, December, 2006
18:36
A crisp breeze picked at the heavy edges of Quin’s cloak as she briskly made her way back to Poplar Avenue. She had been caught by the darkness of night after an afternoon scouring the city in search of quaint odds and ends she so fondly collected.
Safe under the keeps of her cloak, Quin clutched a paper bag protectively against her chest, questioning why such an ‘advanced’ country could not provide handles with purchases of something as simple - and as heavy - as a book! Though, despite her mental grumbling, she’d fallen in love the moment she’d discovered the nameless, old, leather-bound book, worn down from countless years past, in the old bookstore that had become something of a ritual browsing point for her whenever she left the apartment now.
She didn’t even understand the text within it, but at least it would give her something to concentrate on and keep her from falling asleep. She couldn’t bear the thought of finding herself reliving that horrible nightmare again!
Those claws… She could feel the skull as though it were her own hand!
Shuddering at unpleasant thoughts, Quin toyed with the tarnished silver chain wrapped around the fingers of her left hand. A silver choker with a black tear-drop pendant dangling from its centre point that she’d also found, tapped rhythmically against her little finger in time with her hurried steps.
She needed to be home. Despite the epic depression mode cousin that awaited her at the apartment, Quin felt a terrible prickling sensation on the back of her neck…
Faster!
No!
Quin stopped dead, staring distantly ahead with a look of panic spread across her face.
She peered back over her shoulder at the alley she’d just past, as though she’d forgotten something, then quickly turned about on her heel and skipped off towards it, her cloak flaring out behind as she darted into its mouth and sunk back into the shadows.
… wait…
Quin slowly crouched lower into the cover provided by the towering building, her eyes sharply scanning the street she was formerly occupying. Where are they?
…
Close. It’s coming.
This way.
On the surface, there was nothing but the silent exchange of the chill night air. Quin, however, rose swiftly from her position on the ground and strode deeper into the alley without looking back twice as she listened closely to the warnings and guidance that others could not.
Hurry!
She could hear the hisses of dozens, now, rising as she scurried through the debris of rubbish, knowing what was after her and driven by fear as her imagination ran wild with countless possibilities of what might happen should she be caught.
Up here!
Head darting upwards, Quin’s eyes locked on the tiny, furry head poking over the edge of a metal grate landing. She reached out to grip that ladder, but fumbled. She still had her book. Quin began to sweat, hesitant at the idea of abandoning the possessions still clutched tightly against her chest. She didn’t want to lose it! She’d only just got it!
Hurry, now! Up!
No. This way: quick, quick.
Quin let out a small sigh of relief as she quickly darted off down her new path of directions, grateful that her burden had been considered and accounted for.
It’ll catch you. Just a bit further, now. Quick, quick!
Perspiring with fear and anxiety, Quin’s heart pounded hard against her rib cage as she burnt every last energy reserve into her pumping legs, a desperate scramble for her life. Adrenaline was all she had going for her now - she was no athlete, not like her cousin.
It wasn’t long before she was gasping for breath, rounding another corner of the lonely backstreets with only the assistance of her silent life guardians keeping her from being caught any sooner than any other person would have been. Unfortunately, those guardians didn’t always notice and point out hidden obstacles as she suddenly tripped over a tumbled crate, stumbling gracelessly onto the harsh, broken ground and losing her hold on the book as her arms braced themselves for impact.
“AHH!” Quin screamed, legs kicking as she was suddenly swept up mid-fall. She struggled desperately against the unmoving arms that wrapped solidly around her tiny frame, keeping her clear from the ground.
Then something changed: she turned…
Spitting a venomous hiss, Quin struggled fearfully for her life. A low, menacing growl rolled deep within her throat as hundreds of others echoed her distress from nearby shadows of the depraved street. Her captor’s unseen eye, however, didn’t even blink as he chuckled sadistically, tightening his grip and forcing the air from her small and helpless body.
Hope comes…
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
February 14th, 2007
Valentine's Day
San Diego - 9:32 PM
Adriana and Darian walked through the carnival in San Diego. The city was always having carnivals and fairs for different reasons, and Darian figured it would be a good way to spend the day with Drea, especially considering the fact that it was Valentine’s Day.
The two leaned against the fence which held the baby animals. Adriana held a rather large, brown bear with an equally large, red ribbon around its neck in her arms. Darian had won it before in a classic “test your strength” game, and the person working the intentionally rigged prize attraction was shocked to see the fae win.
“Thanks for bringing me here. I’m having a really good time, Darian,” she said to him sweetly. Adriana had forgotten the last time she had such a good time. She was away from her job, her university, her sister, LA… Drea needed a night of good, pure, clean fun.
“Well I figured after everything that’s been happening in LA, it would be good to get away, even if it’s just for a day,” he replied, as he petted a tiny goat that had come up and was sniffing his hand. “So have you finally mustered the courage to come with me on the ‘Salt and Pepper Shakers’?”
Adriana looked back in horror at the large metallic contraption then back to Darian. His handsome face was pleading silently with her. “Come on, nothing will go wrong. I’ll be right there with you.”
Drea melted a little as he gave her a small smile. She stroked the goat’s head and smiled. Finally, Adriana gave in, “All right. As long as you don’t mind having your circulation being cut off from your arm because of me holding on to it so tightly.” She then gave him a wink. Drea was deathly afraid of traveling carnival rides, but she figured that going on one with a faery wasn’t so bad.
The two made their way from the animal pen, to the line of the “Salt and Pepper Shaker” and within minutes were being seated and strapped in.
“Just take a deep breath and relax,” Darian comforted, seeing the look of ‘why did I let him talk me into this’ in Adriana’s eyes. “You work in Bob’s Bar; this should be a piece of cake for a girl like you.”
She smiled briefly, but then closed her eyes in horror as the machine powered up and sent the two spinning dizzyingly into the air. “Isn’t this great?!” Darian called out over the noise of the ride.
“Oh yeah, real amazing,” Drea answered back sarcastically as she closed her eyes even tighter and leaned closer onto Darian.
Finally, it began to slow down. Darian was the first to get off, helping Adriana out. She definitely did not look well, as a paleness came over her face. The fae held her in his arms, chuckling a bit as he commented, “You weren't kidding when you said you hated rides like that.”
The two began walking away, Adriana leaning practically the whole top of her body on him. Darian smiled at her and stroked the tips of her hair lightly.
From behind them, he heard a scream of laughter. The fae turned to see a teenaged girl laughing, while a boy about her age, who had wrapped his arms around her waist, was playfully kissing her. Darian frowned. He could smell a vampire among the two. The fae walked closer towards them, Drea still resting in his arms.
“Darian, what are you doing?” she asked him nauseously. As he got closer, he smelled the teenagers’ scents again. The boy. Figured. “Vampire’s about to leave the carnival with a little snack,” he told her.
The vampire whispered something in the girl’s ear, and the two went off into a dark, secluded part of the carnival. Darian groaned. He leaned Adriana against a game booth. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere,” the fae said quickly and ran off. Adriana sighed right before resisting the urge to throw up.
The fae followed the pair behind the game booths, away from the watching eyes of the passing crowds.
“What… What’s wrong with your face!?” He heard the girl scream as the vampire changed into his true guise.
“Shh, be quiet sweetie, this won’t hurt a bit,” the vampire hushed as he grabbed her viciously and pulled the girl closer to his overly grown canines. Just as they were about to puncture the soft skin of the girl, the vampire felt a powerful hand grab him by the shoulder, and pull backwards, ripping him from his would be prey.
“You know it’s a little late to be having supper,” Darian lectured as he punched the vampire square in the nose, sending it reeling back. “I would take this opportunity to run now,” he added turning his attention to the frightened girl. The distraction was costly however. The vampire had rushed forward, and tackled Darian onto the ground.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” it hissed as it wrapped its hands around the fae’s throat and started squeezing. “You’ll regret coming back here!”
Darian struggled to grab onto his opponent's wrists, and with his superior strength, pried the monster's hands from his throat. “God, do you vampires have like some sort of script you all follow? It’s always with the 'I’ll kill you' this, and 'you’ll regret' that.”
With a shift of his weight, Darian twisted his body allowing him to roll on top of the vampire. Before the bloodsucker could react, he grabbed its head, and jerked with all his might.
Poof
“Ah jeez, now I'm all dusty,” he moaned as he made his way back to where Adriana was waiting patiently.
Adriana smiled as she saw Darian make is way back. He smiled reassuringly, as to say that he got ‘em. The fae was happy to see Drea looking healthy again, but his mood quickly changed when he suspected her of throwing up.
“You’re looking better. Did you, uh?...” he began when Adriana laughed and quickly cut in.
“No, no! I just needed to sit down for a little bit. There was no ‘throwing up’ of any sort.” The two linked hands and began walking through the rides again.
“Oh, a Ferris wheel!” Darian said happily.
Adriana’s face fell. Just what she needed. Heights. “Let’s not and say we did,” she told him and moved to walk away.
“Aw, come on Drea, if you could handle the “Salt and Pepper Shaker” I'm sure you can handle a Ferris wheel.”
Adriana sighed and looked back at the large ride. “Well… I suppose it can’t be too bad…” she began. Darian’s face lit up as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the ride.
“Great! Let’s hurry; I hate lines,” he said quickly as they beat out other in the line to the Ferris wheel.
In a matter of minutes, the fae and the gypsy were on the ride. As they lifted to the top, David Bowie’s “As the World Falls Down” began to play.
Adriana’s face brightened as she turned to Darian and excitedly told him, “Oh my God, I love this song! Labyrinth is my favorite movie!” The fae smiled at Drea, and gazed at her as she mouthed the words.
As such a sad love
Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel
Open and closed within your eyes
I’ll place the sky within your eyes
Just then, the Ferris wheel clicked to a stop. Darian and Adriana now sat at the top. A gentle wind blowed, allowing the fae to rest his arm around the gypsy.
There’s such a fooled heart
Beating so fast in search of new dreams
A love that will last within your heart
I’ll place the moon within your heart
“I’m having a really good time, Darian,” Drea said to him, smiling.
The fae smiled back and replied, “Glad to hear it.”
As the pain sweeps through
Makes no sense for you
Every thrill has gonst
Wasn’t too much fun at all
But I’ll be there for you-oo-oo
As the world falls down
Falling
(as the world) falling down
Falling in love
As that part of the song played quietly in the background, a gentle breeze caressed their faces, playfully blowing Adriana’s hair out of her beautiful face.
“I'm having a great time also,” Darian whispered softly as he stared into her rich dark brown eyes. Slowly, they both drifted closer, until finally their tender lips locked in a sweet embrace.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 21th
London, England
10:30 am
“He left me the house!” Alessa was so astounded that she could only stare at the lawyer. Ernie had left her his house in LA.! It was incredible.
When she had received the call from Ernie’s lawyers in London telling her that she was needed for the opening of Mr. Longwood’s will she had thought that his friend had just left her some particular item or maybe something regarding his interests.
She had mostly welcomed the opportunity to leave LA. After Cole’s kidnapping and Ernie’s murder she hadn’t wanted to be in LA any longer. Her friends were suffering because of her, she wouldn’t be the motive of further anguish. And she needed the time alone. Chance hadn’t understood it, and they had had a bitter discussion the night before she left for England. She still pained at the memory.
Besides, she had wanted to put as much distance between her and Morris as she could. Even with Kate’s protection charm always hanging from her chest she had still experienced the unsettling “memories”. She couldn’t understand what happened, Kate had been certain that the charm would work against the vampire’s magic. And what upset her the most was the possibility that he didn’t have anything to do with them anyway.
So she had left. Chance had reluctantly driven her to the airport, silent and angry. But he must have known he wouldn’t change her mind because he hadn’t tried to talk her out of it again. However, in the last moment he had kissed her fiercely, as if he wouldn’t see her again. Which was silly since she would be back in a couple of weeks, or so the lawyers had said. But she had welcomed the kiss and the warm feeling had accompanied her the whole trip.
And she had left. The flight had been uneventful but too long and tiring and she had been grateful it had ended. A big limousine had been waiting for her in the airport and the chauffeur had driven her to the Hilton Park Lane Hotel, just in front of the beautiful Hyde Park.
A day later she was sitting in the elegant lawyer’s office, listening to him reading an unending document listing all of Ernie’s properties, deeds and funds and how they were to be distributed. She had listened to all of it dumbfounded; she had known her friend was rich, but not how rich.
Almost all his wealth went to his only son, but there were big pieces to what seemed to be old servants and some charity funds. She was wondering what she was doing sitting in that big office when her name was mentioned. Then the lawyer stated her inheritance, and she just couldn’t believe her ears.
Ernie had left her his LA house, and not only that but also all the furniture, works of art and books that filled it. There was even a clause stating that Longwood Inc. would take care of the property’s taxes and maintenance for as long as the house stood.
Speechless, she looked at Ellis Longwood. He was sitting beside her, and he was smiling. Obviously this wasn’t a surprise to him, neither did he object to it.
Ellis Longwood had been most pleasant to her since the moment she had arrived to his city. He had taken her to dinner the night before and showed her Mayfair, the neighbourhood where her hotel stood. Although she was still feeling bad about her argument with Chance, she couldn’t but enjoy herself.
The man was so different from his father that it was hard to believe he was his son at all, unless you knew his mother. The boy, *man*, looked exactly like Andrea had. He had dark blue eyes and light brown hair, with high cheekbones and a wide brow. His face was aristocratic and most handsome. In that he did resemble his father.
However, he was a mystery to her. She didn’t know much about Ellis Longwood. Ernie had rarely talked about his son, although the times he mentioned him he had done so with pride and love in his voice. She knew the boy - *man* she corrected herself again, he was no boy any longer - was in charge of his big Import-Export business, and that he travelled a lot around the world. But apart from that, she had no clue about him.
Now she turned to him in her surprise, catching a look of amusement in his blue eyes.
“He left me the house?” she repeated, incredulous.
Ellis smiled. “He did, Ms. Hunt. He had this change in his will arranged when I was in LA last month.” A shadow of pain crossed the man’s eyes and Alessa had to avert hers to hide her embarrassment.
Ernie’s death was still heavy on her. She blamed herself for not noticing what had been going through her friend’s mind. This last moment modification of his will was a new proof of his knowing he was going to die; she still couldn’t believe she had been so blind!
She felt Ellis’ hand fleetingly on hers, and she looked at him, surprised.
“My father held you in great affection, Ms. Hunt. Please accept his last will.”
Alessa didn’t pay attention to the lawyer’s grumph; she was sure the man thought she had been Ernie’s mistress or something equally distasteful. But she didn’t pay him any attention.
“And what would I do with a house like that?” she asked softly, more to herself than him. But he answered anyway.
“You can do whatever you want,” he said. “It’s yours now. And mind me, I think it can be of use to you. All my father’s tomes and research are there, and I believe they have served you in the past?”
Alessa looked at him surprised, was he talking about her finding clues about Dray’chen and Matthew? She looked at him in the eye and Ellis smiled, his eyes understanding. She was sure he was.
Ellis Longwood continued, “My father told me you have associated with others like you. He wanted to help you in your effort. His library is his contribution to it. His house is his contribution to you.”
Alessa was astonished again. *Others like me?* Obviously this man knew much more than what she had thought. She was still looking at him when, turning to the layer, Ellis urged him to keep reading his father’s will.
Introducing Guy Pearce as Ellis Longwood.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Saturday the 30th, December, 2006
18:48
“That’s quite a touching fight you’re putting up, there…” the vampire rumbled harshly in her ear, “Something about that final… desperate struggle for freedom by a lost, frightened little lamb… knowing and realising the inevitability of its fate… its real purpose and reason for existing.” She could feel his smile against her prickling skin, see his fangs glinting mere inches from her neck out the corner of her eye as she tried struggling helplessly once again. Her attempts were futile against his will. “I love it…”
Quin thrashed wildly against her attacker’s strength, but it was too late. His fangs had already punctured deep into the soft, tender skin of her neck.
Quin’s struggles intensified. Her nails hardened, sharpening as she scratched frantically at her own skirts for freedom while her arms remained pinned at her side. Though she didn‘t know it, her eyes had fully dilated as she threw back her head in a final, silent scream for help as the blood slowly drained from her body…
… Her cry was answered…
Quin’s scream vocalised from beyond the underworld, carrying out through the ragged streets as an army suddenly swarmed in from countless directions, engulfing the narrow way in a frenzied mass of vermin intent on one thing.
Fangs tore painfully from Quin’s flesh, the vampire struggling against the surging mass of feral black fur and claws, a sudden ambush from countless directions, tearing into his flesh and dragging him down as they weight continued to accumulate. Hundreds of tiny bodies clawed over both bodies; though their target was known and set, the sheer frenzy of the attack had thrown the rats' bearings as Quin underwent the same suffering and torment as her captor.
The rats locked onto and felt Quin’s pain, causing the attack to increase beyond all suffering. Quin’s screams rang drily through the streets alongside the vampire's bellowing wails as the two fell heavily to the ground, the vampire's grip around Quin still remaining as he attempted to crush the rabid vermin.
‘BANG’
Screaming painfully, the vampire spasmed wildly on the ground as a bullet pierced straight into his central nervous system.
Rats scattered after the loud noise, leaving the two bloodied bodies laying vulnerable on the ground before the boots of a stranger.
There was a soft sigh of relief.
The vampire gradually mustered enough strength to control his unpredictable body, but still refused to let go of the girl as he shakily tried rising to his feet to face the newcomer. “Who… who are you?”
A sharp kick was delivered to the struggling vampire's temple, knocking him flat back to the ground, crushing Quin with his fall.
“I’ll ask the questions here, buddy.”
Quin tried moving her head under the demon's weight. Though pained and weary, she needed to see what was there.
A tall, firm lean man with a closely shaved head and goatee tracing his mouth stood firmly on his ground, heavy trench coat hanging undisturbed from his shoulders. His right arm steadily aimed his freshly fired pistol while his other proffered an officer's badge, unveiling his cover. “Let the girl go.”
Quin’s body gave way, exhausted from the sheer effort she’d put into her struggle against the demon’s overpowering strength, and now, severe mass.
The vampire hissed. Events had grown to be too much for his liking. He rolled heavily off Quin, shoving her violently off to the side while he rose warily to his feet - this time with more success. “Have her! She’s more trouble than she’s worth.” He sneered vengefully at Quin, a small moan escaping her body, then warned with a shallow hiss as he turned his back, “This isn’t over girl.”
“Oh, I believe it is…” Unheard by the demon, the officer muttered his promise and pulled a whittled stake from his coat, hurling it straight and true.
The man didn’t wait for the dust to settle before he rushed over to Quin’s limp body, rolling her onto her side. “Hello? Hello, can you hear me? What’s your name?”
Oooh, she was going to be sick… Quin struggled to cough around the invisible pressure against her chest. She could hear the voice, and she needed to answer, she knew it. Her name… She needed her name…
“Quina…la,” she spluttered, coughing violently as a large portion of her stomach rolled up her throat and spewed from her mouth.
The ground felt so cold and hard against her body… her head pounded…
“Quinala, eh? That’s a nice name. Do you have any relatives nearby, Quinala? Anyone I can call? Where do you live?” The officer continued to speak, asking questions, keeping her conscious and finding out as much as he could in order to help her.
He found out more than he cared to…
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 25th
1:30 am
Lone Peak Psychiatric Clinic
Morris was furious. He paced back and forth in the clinic’s common room, the vampire who had brought him the news of Alessa’s disappearance trying very hard to become invisible, but he wasn’t succeeding. A dozen more vampires watched the scene, worry and fear in their eyes.
The clinic was once again his hiding place. After Alessa’s attack on the building, he had managed to repair the huge crystal dome and replace doors and fences to the place, and added new security systems, both regular and magical. It wasn’t probable that the do-gooders would think of him returning to that place, and that was exactly why he had done so.
But now he had more urgent matters in his head. Furious, he shot out a hand and grabbed the young vampire from the neck, effortlessly lifting him from the floor.
“What do you mean she disappeared?” he screamed, his fingers sinking painfully in the vampire’s neck.
“I don’t think he will be able to say much if you kill him, caro,” said Roxana in a slow purr, but her eyes watched intently the scene.
Morris growled again, but eased his grip on his underling a little, letting him stand on his tiptoes.
“Tell me everything that’s happened, and it better be good,” he threatened.
The young vampire’s voice creaked as he told his master about Alessa’s last whereabouts before he lost her. The demoness’ actions had been quite normal, until she had just disappeared. She had got home one night and never left again.
“So, you didn’t see her leave her home since then?” Morris asked, his voice rising in anger again.
“No, she didn’t,” the vampire hurried to answer, “She could still be ins-”
Morris went on as if his underling hadn’t spoken at all, his voice tired, as if speaking to a simple-minded person who needed guidance to tie his shoes. “Now please, Mr. Jones, tell me what has happened ‘after’ she entered her house never to get out again.”
His overly sweet smile sent shivers down the vampire’s back. “I’m sure you saw ‘somebody’ leaving the house. What about her lover boy?”
Jones swallowed hard before answering. “The guy has been going on his business as usual, he hunts and g-”
“All alone?” Morris interrupted the vampire.
“What do you mean?” he asked but he lowered his eyes as his master raised an eyebrow. “Yes, all alone… except for the time he took this woman to the airport…”
“A woman?” Morris’ voice was warm oil. “What woman?”
“He took this elderly woman to the airport. We followed him until it was clear where he was going.” He caught his master’s look and protested, “But it was an old woman, we saw her clearly enough!”
Morris was too quick for him to notice and less than a second later he had him hanging in mid-air and the vampire was struggling to gasp.
“What part of the ‘shapeshifting’ part did you miss, my dear?” he asked coldly as he gradually tightened the magical grip on the other’s neck, but he stopped the pressure until he saw understanding creep into the dim-witted vampire’s eyes. Then the neck just snapped and his head was separated from his body, exploding in dust a moment later.
Morris dusted his shoulders and turned to the rest of the vampires who had been appointed to follow all Alessa’s actions.
“Now. Who of you, inepts, can tell me where did that plane go?”
Roxana’s merry laugh filled the room as ten sets of eyes looked down, and ten sets of feet shifted the earth floor. It would be funny to see what he would do when he learned that nobody knew, she thought. Killing always made her horny.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Poplar Avenue
Sunday the 31st, December, 2006
13:24
He didn’t want to do this. Not really. He didn’t ask for it. His conscience, however, didn’t allow any leeway in the matter.
Glancing towards the girl seated to his right in the passenger seat, he cracked an assuring smile when she returned a sheepish glance in reply. It was hard, though, pretending there was nothing out of the ordinary here. There was more to this girl than what met the eye; it was plain to see in the fading scabs that trailed her skin, where only the previous night they were the worst gashes of multiple others that had since diminished completely! Even where there should be a grotesque wound on her neck - sure to become a permanent nasty scar for anyone else - only two slight dotted marks remained where the vampire had sunk its teeth. It was now indistinguishable to a nasty, week old spider bite.
And then there was the rats! He’d never seen such a sight before, in his life.
It wasn’t hard to tell she was uncomfortable. He could see it in the way she sat, the way she kept her head lowered as though ashamed of who she was, because she knew he knew. He’d have to be blind not to see it. She was different!
He half had to wonder if this sort of thing ran in the family.
Stifling a sniff at the thought of her family, he quickly looked for something else to occupy his mind. Neither of them seemed quite ready to evacuate the car just yet. Her family was the reason she hadn’t been dropped off there the other night, why he’d left it till today. Had she been more coherent the other night, she’d have probably insisted she was dropped off home to keep him from discovering her oddities. But as it happened, he did what seemed the only right thing he could have done: took her home to his house where his sister helped tend her and his niece “helped” tend her.
So now, not only did he know there was something questionable about her; his sister and niece were speculative of her, too!
He should’ve just taken her home in the first place. Now he was just stuck in an even more awkward situation, all because he just had to put off something he very well knew he’d have to eventually do, anyway!
Finally, he turned to the girl once again. “Are we ready, Quinala?”
She returned a slight nod after a moment in reply and the two then proceeded to open their respective doors and stepped out onto the street.
Cameron steadily locked the door behind him.
Reintroducing Edward Norton as Cameron Laiko and Susan May Pratt as Quin
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 28th
4:30 pm
Longwood Inc.
London quarters
Alessa hung up the phone and just looked out of the window. It was the third time she had called Chance in three days in a row and didn’t find him, so she had called Cole instead, thinking that the boy could have some news about her boyfriend. She hadn’t found Cole either, but Darian. The fae’s voice, telling her that Chance had just left the apartment, had sounded flat and emotionless, and she wondered what was the man was not telling.
She just hoped Chance wasn’t still mad at her. Enough days had passed for him to cool off, but she hadn’t talked to him since the first night, when she had called to tell him she had arrived safe and sound. She hadn’t had opportunity to tell him about the house yet!
She bit her lip, her eyes lost in the impressive view of London. She was in Ellis Longwood's office, in the top floor of a twenty-story building in the middle of London. The whole building belonged to Longwood Inc. and she was visiting the place. It was impressive, as impressive as all the Longwood properties she had visited so far.
But as well as she had been treated, she was longing to get home. She missed Chance painfully and needed to see him again. However there were still details to be taken care of, the lawyers were writing the house deeds and settlements, and all that red tape took time. She would probably have to stay in London for at least a week more.
“Is there a problem, Alessa?”
Ellis' words startled her; the man had discreetly left her alone when she was talking on the phone and he had come back without her noticing it. She looked at him and saw concern in his eyes.
“I couldn’t talk to Chance again,” she explained, and she was so engrossed in her worries that she didn’t see the hardness go by Ellis’ eyes. “I called a friend and he told me he had just left, but-”
“Indeed,” was the curt response, and Alessa finally looked up, seeing the expression on his handsome face. So he also knew of Chance’s part on his parents’ deaths? Alessa wasn’t surprised, in the week she had spent with him she had realized that there was little of her life that he wasn’t aware of. At least all those things that had happened since she had arrived in LA last year. Another similarity to his father, his information was complete and trustful. And still she knew almost nothing about him.
“I think it is most unfair,” she said, looking at him intently. It was her time to startle him. Ellis looked at her with puzzlement in his blue eyes.
“What?” he asked, obviously not understanding her.
“That you know so much about my life, and yet I know nothing about yours.”
He let a little laugh. “Indeed,” he repeated. “Well, I guess you are right; I’m being unfair.”
Alessa waited for a second, but when it became clear that he wouldn’t go on she sighed, frustrated.
“And still you won’t tell me?” she asked, not very hopeful of getting a response.
Ellis looked at her for a minute and finally said, as if reaching a decision. “I think this would be better discussed in another place.” He checked his watch, “It’s almost time for tea, anyway. I know an excellent Tea Room not far from here. Shall we go?” he asked and Alessa promptly accepted. Ellis Longwood intrigued her.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
January 28th
Mayfair Tea Room, London
5:15 pm
“So what did you know about my mother, Alessa?”
The question startled her; she hadn’t expected to be talking about Andrea Longwood. Alessa pictured the woman in her mind; a fair-haired woman with blue eyes and a rather languid figure. In fact all about her had been languid, her figure, her looks, her voice; although there had been no languidness in Andrea’s eyes when she looked at her. However she had to admit the woman had been truly beautiful… if you liked languid beauty, of course. She had always wondered what a man like Ernie, so full of life, could have seen in her.
Cautiously, she answered, “She was a very fine lady, beautiful and elegant, and… she didn’t like me at all.”
“Did you know why that was?”
Alessa made herself busy looking at the bottom of her cup of tea. She had a theory about that, but she didn’t want to tell Ellis too much about herself. Although he seemed to know a lot about her life, he hadn’t actually told her he knew she was a demon. Finally she decided to talk.
“I guess because she knew… things… about me?”
Ellis laughed at that. “Things? Indeed. My mother knew you were a demon, Alessa, the same as I do.” He raised a hand to stop her from talking. “And, no. I didn’t know from my father. In fact I didn’t know you were a demon until I met you a week ago.”
“Then how?”
“Allow me to explain. My mother had an innate… shall we say… ability? to know when somebody wasn’t quite… human. She could detect demons, vampires, faeries, werewolves… you name it. If it wasn’t human, or entirely human - like in your case - she would spot it.”
“And she just hated anything that wasn’t human.” He let go a humourless laughter. “So you see? It wasn’t nothing personal, you could have been the Mother Theresa of Calcutta, but if you had a single drop of demon’s blood in you, she would have hated you.”
Alessa wasn’t surprised by this, she had guessed something like that. Andrea’s attitude towards her had always been barely civil, and she knew she had been tolerated because of her friendship with Ernie. She remembered the look she had given to Chance and her when they had visited their house; she must have spotted the demon in Chance then. Too bad she hadn’t told her husband about it, a lot of chaos could have been prevented.
She looked at Ellis again, putting two and two together. “Are you telling me you have the same… ability?”
“I have. Although seeing you as young as I remember you from my childhood would have enlightened the most thick, don’t you think?” He raised an eyebrow and looked pleased that she blushed, she had thought he hadn’t recognized her. “But unlike my mother I don’t resent non-human creatures. In fact I work with them.”
“Are you a Watcher too?” Alessa couldn’t prevent her feelings about the Council come across in her tone, but Ellis laughed at her question.
“God Almighty, no! I hate the buggers. Do you really think I would be a Watcher, having Ernie as my father?” He shook his head as if amused. “If one thing Ernie taught me, it was not to trust the Council.”
Alessa had to agree with him, Ernie had never been fond of the Council after it had dismissed Morris because of her. He had resigned the organization soon after that incident, actually.
“Then what do you mean when you say you work with demons?” she asked, intrigued, as she sipped her tea.
Ellis drabbled his mouth with a napkin and leaned back. He looked the perfect English gentleman, it was strange to be talking about these topics with an English gentleman, she thought, amused.
The man looked at her and asked in turn, “Now, what do you know of demon hunters’ associations?”
Alessa grimaced, fortunately she hadn’t come across many of those in her life; the Council had been enough.
“Not much. I try to stay away from them.” She looked at him with rounded eyes. “Don’t tell me you are a demon hunter!”
Ellis chuckled. “No, I’m not. And I’m not surprised you avoid them, they usually are nasty bastards, murderers in their majority.” Alessa just cocked her head, and Ellis hurried to explain.
“In the human world there are rules, laws, protecting people. A psycho starts killing people and he gets caught – most of the time, at least. A lunatic decides one race is better than the rest and makes a genocide and he’s stopped… again, most of the time.” He chuckled.
“However, there are no rules to protect non humans; a psycho decides to start hunting demons and who would stop him? There is no human law to prevent it.” He stopped, and looked down to his now empty cup. “There are records of entire demon races wiped out of the face of the earth just because some crazed psycho decided to do some cleansing. Even some governments have sections dealing with these ‘subnormals’, as they call them.
“Mind you, I know there are demons and demons, and there’s always the vampires, but most of these hunters don’t care if the demons they hunt are peaceful or not, harmless or not. They just don’t mind. They get in the killing spree mode and don't stop until they spill all the green blood they can.
“I try to put a little leverage to that.”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Los Angeles, America
The Alexander Hotel
Evening
February 17th
Chance picked his way through the empty, almost haunting, hallways of The Alexander Hotel. Even after all these months, it was still closed; the lingering reek of death and evil still filling the building.
He had not been here since…
Since he had slaughtered every man, woman and child inside.
He didn’t shudder.
That was why he was here.
There were no bodies, of course. They were long removed; either decomposing six feet under or ashes to ashes… And for the most part the Hotel had been repaired; the blood mopped up, the carpets replaced, redecorated, limbs collected…
Still, he did not shudder.
Here, at the place of his last massacre, remembering how he had stalked these halls, ripped children apart, butchered women, beheaded men, remembering the sounds of their death cries, remembering a death with each step, even with these memories running through his brain like they were happening anew, even with being at the Hotel itself, Chance could still not shudder. He could not feel the regret he felt shortly after being returned to his body. Could not feel the anger, the desperation, the hopelessness of his existence and his curse, for that was what it was.
He could not feel.
He could not love Alessa the way he used to, the way he wanted to. He wanted to believe he still loved her, but he didn’t trust himself. Not when he could no longer feel remorse for the deaths he had caused. He hadn’t seen her in days, weeks… was it really weeks already? Yes, it was. Almost an entire month had passed since she had left and he hadn’t noticed and yet... that and their argument didn’t seem to matter.
And Cole… Chance had let a vampire, a known enemy aid them in their rescue. And though he had chastised James repeatedly, and also repeatedly questioned the wisdom of letting him help them, it failed to bother him as strongly as it should.
Perhaps bother, perhaps care, perhaps feel was not the right word. But he was damned if he knew any other.
Something, then, had changed. And only here, alone, did Chance believe he could find what.
Alone, that is, but for the sword he clenched in his left hand. Dray’chen’s sword.
Chance knew what it was doing to him. He knew it was trying to corrupt him, to turn him away from the people he cared for, to distance himself from them as the first step on the path to darkness.
What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t trying. It had already succeeded.
It was no coincidence that the Alexander Hotel was also the first place Chance had held the sword whilst in control.
The dreams had been getting worse.
Chance would lay awake for hours, his head filled with thoughts of his incapability to feel until he fell asleep, only to receive the vivid nightmares of death and destruction on an apocolyptic scale and awake, unable to sleep again.
But he believed there was more to the dreams than horror-filled visions of a nightmarish future. They were trying to tell him something… What? That he could prevent it?
*Yes. I can.*
Was that him, thinking that? *It was almost as if another voice whispered it to me…*
Chance shrugged it off. Another voice or no, he knew it was true.
He could save the world.
That was why he could not feel; he was not achieving his destiny, not meeting his fate. And once it was saved he would be free to feel again, to love. He would be freed of his debt to the world; the one he had earned at the cost of Dray’chen. He could repay it.
What did he have to do, where did he have to go?
The image of the desert with the building, no the temple, on the hill flashed into his mind.
Almost immediately, his thoughts began to race. He had to go to the temple in the desert. But what would he do once there…?
*That doesn’t matter. There I will know what to do, what I must do.*
It would all be so clear once he got…
Where? Where exactly? A temple in a desert was not much of a clear indication. If only he knew where he had to go-
Chance’s train of thought was cut off as the sword, with a life of its own, jerked upwards. His grip tightened, but the sword flew from it; cutting through the air with a keen whistle before embedding itself in a wall. He stalked over to wrench it free when he noticed what the decoration on the wall was, and paused in mid-stride.
It was a map of the world.
And the sword, quivering slightly from the force of its impact, was stabbed directly into Israel.
Chance grabbed the sword and made for the exit. He had a plane to catch.
***
Rome, Italy.
That same time.
On the other side of the planet, Pandora sat bolt upright, her bedsheets falling down around her; the moonlight shining in through the open window, making her pale face even paler than usual.
Even without the moonlight, she would have been paler than usual.
Her breathing was deep and heavy; her heart rate quick. Her mis-matched eyes were filled with tears of pain.
In her long life, Pandora had come to know that certain dreams, like the one that had woken her, were not dreams at all, but visions of reality.
If that was so, it was grave news for the world at whole.
Not waiting for her heart or breathing to slow, Pandora tossed off the last of the sheets and darted gracefully out of bed, wiping her eyes and heading immediately to her clothes cupboard.
She had to be quick. She had a plane to catch.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Jerusalem Airport, Israel
Midday, local time.
Feburary 18th
Chance stepped off the plane into the blistering heat of the ‘holy city’. But it did not bother him. His face pale, his hand twitching, his eyes bloodshot, he looked like an addict wanting his next hit.
He was addicted, yes. Addicted to saving the world, he believed.
But he was addicted to the sword.
All reasonable thought had fled him; overrun by the subconscious urging to do this, to come here. To save the world.
That was what he was going to do. To save the world. He knew he could do it, knew it was what he had to do. Arriving in Jerusalem was the first step. Soon it would become clear to him what he had to do here exactly...
First, though, he had to find the sword.
Using the contacts he had gained over the years, Chance had managed to have the sword flown in, despite new laws and policies on armed weapons onboard aircraft. Unfortunately, it was not on the same flight as his own, but an earlier one. A man he knew, an old and wizened rabbi, had collected the sword already.
Now all Chance had to do was leave the airport.
Not an easy task by any measure. He did not know how he found it in himself to pass peacefully through immigration and security check after security check, all the while wanting to do no more than feel the sword in his hands again, to trace those deceitfully shifting lines… But somehow he did.
With a sense of great relief, Chance stepped out of the airport and into the sunshine, taking a deep breath and feeling the sun upon his face.
After a few moments to collect himself, he set off to the meeting point with the rabbi. It was easier to find his way around than an outside observer would first thought, but Chance had been to Jerusalem before. Several times, in fact, tracing back to his time with the Knights Templar in the twelfth century. He knew the city like the back of his hand.
His meeting point, a side alley off from a local bustling market, was stereotypical, but it wasn’t of Chance’s arrangements. He had let the rabbi organise it.
Focused entirely on the satisfaction that would come with holding the sword in his hands soon, Chance crossed through the body of people and into the alley.
***
Los Angeles, America
Cole’s apartment.
That same time. (2am Feb 18th)
Cole jumped at the sound of his door knocking. He looked to Darian who raised his eyebrow, but the half-fae was just as curious as him.
Getting up, Cole crossed quickly to the door and opened. Who he found shocked him deeply.
“Hello again, Mr. Matthews. It’s a shame that we only meet under dire circumstance, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Cole nodded, worry and fear creeping through him. He held the door open and stood back, not only allowing the visitor access into the apartment but for Darian to see who it was. “You had better come in, Pandora.”
morning after meeting at bibliophile
***Friday, December 23, 2007 around 7:30 am***
*** The Bibliophile***
Daye served a latte to a cute, sort of nerdy guy seated at one of the crowded tables in the bookshop. The room was filled with the happy buzz of conversations, and the sweet, cinnamon smell of Josh's pecan rolls, this morning’s breakfast special. Daye went back to the counter, set down her tray and stood back, sipping her tea as she observed the usual Friday morning crowd for the Bibliophile. She glanced at her watch, taking a bite of her favorite pastry and checking the door. Alessa and Alice were due in sometime soon. They were going to give identifying the demon that’d killed Jimmy a shot. Daye was more than a little nervous, which was evidenced by the fact that she had been picking at her breakfast for almost and hour, and Josh was shooting her dirty looks every time he came out of the kitchen.
Finally, at a little past eight, the bell over the door jingled as Alessa and Alice came in. Daye quickly moved to intercept them.
Alessa had met Alice at the door and they had only had time to exchange greetings before Inés came rushing down the street. Her cousin was wearing white, as usual, and looked a little flustered; Alessa wondered what she could have been doing before turning to introduce her to Alice.
The two women had looked each other up and down before entering Bibliophile. Alessa looked around the nice library, looking for Daye. She smiled when she saw her rushing to their side.
“Daye, this is my cousin, Inés. Inés, this is Daye,” she said, aware of the woman’s eyes on her cousin. “She’s the Verbati I talked to you about.”
Daye smiled a bit distractedly. She really wanted to get this over with, and hopefully move on with the investigation.
"It's nice to meet you, Inés," Daye said, offering the demoness her hand. "I'm glad you could come. If you'll all follow me, I'll take you to the back room and we can get started."
Without waiting for an answer, Daye led the trio to the store/break room, where the murder had occurred. She pulled out a key and unlocked the padlock she'd put on the door. No one else had been allowed inside since the attack. She led the other women inside.
The two Verbatis entered the room slowly, looking intently around. The little room’s atmosphere evidenced Daye’s words, the air was stuffed and old. Alessa looked around, it was obviously what the Watcher had said. There were metal shelves and boxes filled with books and other kinds of stock, but there were also some items to make people comfortable, a TV, a sofa, and a table, a microwave, and even a small refrigerator.
She walked further into the room, Inés following her. They seemed to be just standing there, but Daye and Alice could notice how their nostrils flared, trying to detect and classify the different scents in the room.
"Do you... smell anything?" Daye whispered to Alice, wondering just how strong the scent was in the room.
Alice sniffed the air. *Blood, dust, musty odors. Normal stuff here.* "Mostly normal smells, except the blood. There is a musty sent here, like Alessa, but it’s not her."
Concentrating, Alessa turned to Alice. “Yes, it is faint, but I think it’s definitely a Verbati. What do you think, Inés?” she said but stopped when she saw the expression on her cousin’s face. “What is it, Inés? What’s happening?”
Inés face was an emotionless mask. Her dark eyes were a striking contrast to her pallor, and they looked haunted. Alessa hadn’t seen that expression in years.
“Did you recognize the scent?” Alessa walked up to where her cousin stood, completely immobile. “Is it… him?” She had to shake Inés gently to get her attention. “Inés! Is it Raúl?”
Daye watched the two Verbati closely, becoming very concerned when Inés seemed to recognize the scent, and have a very emotional reaction to it. "Alessa?" Daye moved forward, stopping beside the two women. "What's wrong? Who is Raúl? What's happened to your cousin?"
Alessa lifted her eyes from her cousin with an effort. Inés hadn’t yet answered but there was only one thing that made her lose her composure like that and that was Raúl Montero, as he was known among humans. There was more to it, but she couldn’t explain.
“Raúl Montero. Her brother.” At their inquiring gaze she explained, “He was shunned from the tribe before I went to live with them, I don’t really know him. That's why I didn’t recognize his scent. But she did, it's the only explanation to her state."
Daye turned towards Alice. "Can you help me get her out of here?" Daye asked. The demoness was obviously in some kind of shock, and Daye could only assume her past dealings with her brother were far from pleasant. "We can take her into my office and lay her down."
Alice placed her hands behind the girl's back and behind her legs and with one quick movement lifted her from the ground. "Lead on, hun."
Daye led the women out of the back room, stopping to lock it up once again, and into her office. She had Alice set Inés down on the plush sofa in there, and stuck her head out to ask Alicia to bring in some tea.
"Is she going to be all right?" Daye asked Alessa, hovering over the two of them, worried and guilty.
“She’s tough,” Alessa answered, but her eyes betrayed her worry.
Fifteen minutes later, Inés was somewhat more composed. She was holding a cup of tea in her hands, but she still refused to talk. Alessa was sitting next to her, still trying to get any response from her. Finally she looked at the other women, remembering
“Well, at least we could give you the shapeshifter’s name. Raúl Montero.” She chuckled humorlessly, “A real bastard that one.”
Daye nodded, smiling weakly. "I appreciate that, but I'm sorry your cousin was so upset," she sighed. "I've been too focused on finding this killer lately, and I've forgotten to take into consideration those who might be affected. I'm really sorry for this. It's not my usual style. I guess I just wasn't prepared for what happened to Jimmy. I feel..."
Daye's voice broke and tears filled her eyes. She'd made a mistake with Alice, and now she'd allowed Inés to be hurt, all so that she could deal with something she should already have been dealing with in a very different way. This was no good. She needed to say goodbye to Jimmy and let go. Otherwise, she'd end up hurting herself even more than his death could.
"I'm just sorry," Daye whispered through her tears.
“You didn’t know.” Everybody was startled by Inés emotionless, flat tone. “You couldn’t know.” She got up quickly and handed Daye the cup.
“Don’t blame yourself for this, it’s not your fault. Raúl is a real bastard, and I have just been lucky so far to not tramp into his mess. I hope this information is of use to you.”
Her face and body changed form in a moment, showing a man, a good twenty centimeters taller than Inés, with black hair and eyes. He was handsome but his face looked ruthless. Then Inés was again looking at her.
"So this is your brother? I hope you don’t mind me making you an only child." Alice’s fist clenched as she studied the shapshifter's form.
"Not at all." Inés gave Alice a tight lipped smile before turning to the others. “I’m sorry, but I have to go now.” She nodded to Alessa and walked towards the door. Alessa excused herself and followed her cousin out.
christmas at the langleys
*** Monday, December 25, 2006 around 4 pm ***
***The Langley House***
Maia raced around the yard, shrieking with delight as she nearly careened into Uncle Sam. She veered off at the last possible moment, quickly glancing over her shoulder to make sure her Mama was still chasing her. She laughed as she spun away and headed for the fence at the rear of the property. Sam laughed too, taking off in her direction. Daye fell to the ground, panting, and watched the two of them run and wrestle in the perfectly manicured grass.
Drew stood on the patio, watching the antics in the yard with a satisfied smile on his face.
“It’s been a lovely holiday,” his mother’s voice came from just behind him, where she’d stopped just inside the French doors. “I’m so glad you came to spend it with us.”
“I am too,” Drew replied, turning slightly to look over his shoulder. His usually perfectly coiffed mother was drying her hands on a stained apron she wore around her waist. There was a dusting of flour on her cheek, and her hair was coming free from the loose bun she’d put together this morning. There were sticky chocolate fingerprints on her sleeve that Drew suspected came from the pudgy bundle screaming joyfully just a few feet away. “Thanks for inviting us, Mother,” Drew said.
Charis Langley smiled, approaching her son. “I really think I should thank you,” she said. “I can’t remember ever having such a wonderful time. Maia is a joy. So is Amanda. I’m so very happy for you.”
Drew stared at his mother for a moment, shocked by her candid statement. She was usually so cool, so… proper. He had been surprised again and again by her in the last few weeks. She’d been so accepting of Daye, of Sam, and of Maia, especially of Maia. She knew the little girl wasn’t his child, but she didn’t seem to care. She treated Maia like a granddaughter, one she’d been apparently waiting for. Drew was so proud of her, and of his father. They’d made room for his family without a moment’s hesitation.
Drew turned back to the scene in the yard, where Daye and Maia now sat cross legged in the yard, playing some sort of peek-a-boo type game. He was so happy that it almost scared him. There’d been no sign of trouble for Daye or her friends in weeks. That is if you discounted Jimmy’s murder and the strange occurrence the night of the Solstice. But in the long run, both of those seemed like small potatoes compared to what Daye and her friends usually had to deal with.
Now that Tash had organized the group of heroes into some sort of actual committed team, Drew expected there to be even more trouble on the supernatural front. He was just glad for this little respite.
“She’s lovely too, Drew,” Charis Langley moved into the room and put her hand on her son’s shoulder. “So, what is it that’s troubling you, son?”
Drew looked down at his mother, not expecting her perceptiveness. “How did you know?” he couldn’t help asking.
Charis laughed softly. “I am your mother,” she reminded him. “How could I not know when something is causing you distress? So, do you want to talk to me about it?”
Drew turned back towards the yard, watching the antics of his “family”. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately about the future,” he replied. “I’m wondering if it isn’t time to take a step forward. I have a fantastic, fulfilling family out there,” he gestured towards the trio on the lawn. “I think maybe sometimes that I want to do something to make sure they don’t end up disappearing on me.”
Charis didn’t comment. She wanted to let her son work this out on his own. She had a feeling from the moment he’d finally introduced Amanda that there was something special going on there, and when he’d introduced Maia, she’d known so. Even though that little girl wasn’t Andrew’s by blood, she was the daughter of his heart. Charis knew what he really wanted was to marry Amanda, but something was holding him back. She just didn’t know what.
“I love Amanda and Maia so much,” he continued. “I just… there are things about them… They’re not what I thought I was looking for.”
Drew paused, turning to look at his mother once more. She was frightened by the fear and confusion she saw in his eyes. Maybe Charis had misread things here. Maybe there was more to this than simple jitters.
“Oh, son, what could possibly be that horrible?” she asked, moving forward to cup his face in her hands. “What are you afraid of? Men ask women to marry them every day. Why should it be any different for you?”
Drew was touched by his mother’s insight once again. Perhaps he’d misjudged her more than he realized in the past. She’d been so understanding of all this. Maybe his mother could help him to figure out what to do next.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Drew put his hands over his mother’s. “You and Dad, actually.”
“All right, do you want me to go get your father or…?”
“No, let’s go inside.” Drew led his mother back into the house. They found his father sitting in front of the television watching a football game with his stockinged feet up on the ottoman in front of him. He sat up as soon as they came in, switching off the television.
“This looks serious.” Peter Langley was a handsome gentleman in his early 60’s, who looked years younger. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. “Go on and sit, Drew.”
Drew nodded to his father, sitting on the sofa across from Peter’s chair. His mother went to stand beside Peter. “Thanks, Dad.”
Drew just watched them both for a moment. They were really a very attractive couple still, and he wondered often about their relationship. Despite the fact that his mother sometimes was a bit reserved, and his father was anything but, they had been a solid unit for his whole life. They were content, and more than content with each other. Drew believed that they were truly happy and very much in love. That was the ideal he had always looked up to. That was what he wanted for himself.
“Mom, Dad, I have to tell you something about Amanda,” he began. “This may come as something of a shock, but I think you really need to know, because,” he turned to his mother, “you were right, Mom, I do want to ask her to marry me.”
Peter Langley laughed out loud. “I guess I owe you dinner, dear,” he said to his wife, who was looking very smug.
Drew shook his head. “You bet on me?” he asked incredulously.
“It was a sure thing,” Charis replied, beaming at him. “So, what’s the problem? Is it that she’s a witch?”
Drew’s jaw dropped to the floor. He was shocked. “You… How..? You…” he sputtered.
Charis laughed herself then. “Oh, sweetie, did you really think I wouldn’t check her out when I found out you were involved?”
Drew’s face flushed at her words and he was about to reply angrily, but his father cut him off. “Now, now, that’s just your mother’s way,” he warned. “Don’t go flying off the handle. She worries. We are wealthy men, after all, even if we’d rather forget it.”
“There are people out there who would take advantage of you both,” Charis added. “Whether you realize that or not, it’s still true, and you both are way too trusting. So I take care of these things, and I had Amanda investigated.”
Drew stared at his mother in amazement. She was sitting before him, her chin lifted and a mulish expression on her face. It bothered him very much that she was checking in on his girlfriends, but he couldn’t manage to stay angry with her. She was just being his mother, and he couldn’t fault her for that, as much as he might want to sometimes. Sighing, he shrugged.
“Okay, Mom, fair enough,” he relented. “But I want to go on record saying I don’t like what you did. Still, at least this isn’t going to come as a total shock to you. Although, I must say I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep it a secret. Considering how you feel about my work, I figured Amanda’s ‘unusual talents’ would make her ‘unacceptable’.”
Charis and Peter exchanged a look filled with meaning. “I’ve always said he would have to know someday,” Peter told his wife.
“And as usual, you were right,” Charis replied with a sigh.
Drew watched his parents, completely lost. “Know what?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”
“The thing is, son,” his father began, “your mother had a very good reason for wanting to keep you away from the ‘paranormal’ and it wasn’t that she thought it was a bunch of mumbo-jumbo.”
“But you always said…” Drew’s voice trailed off. Apparently his parents had a secret and he was about to find out what it was.
“I was always afraid that it was in your blood,” Charis explained. “You’re my son, after all, and it was in mine.”
Charis rose from the chair and began to pace the room. Every now and then, she would stop and look at Drew before beginning again. As she paced, she told her story.
“You see, Andrew, I do know about witches, and vampires, and demons, and all sorts of other things that go bump in the night. My family has always known. They’ve served the Powers That Be for generations; as far back as we keep records. We are witches, a long, unbroken line of them… Until me, that is.”
“Your mother made a choice, Drew,” Peter interjected.
“Yes, I did,” she continued. “My parents, your grandparents, and my oldest sister were killed long before you were born. They were hunted down by some demon working for this law firm here in Los Angeles. The murder was brutal, and I was devastated by it. Partly because I felt guilty, like I should have been there.”
“She was living on The Farm with me and the others at that point,” Peter broke in. “She used to sit out in the field for hours, communing with spirits or some such thing.”
Charis smiled fondly at her husband. “Yes, I did that, as well as concocting spells and potions, and the like. I was a witch, fully fledged, back then. I did it all, and when my family was killed I grew very, very angry. I wanted revenge, and I didn’t care what I had to do to get it. I, well…”
Charis broke off, blushing.
“Your mother began to dabble in some… dangerous things,” Peter filled in. “She started down a path… One she was very unfamiliar with. She could very well have been lost, but…”
“Then I found out very suddenly that I was pregnant,” Charis continued. “I discovered I was carrying you. The things I had been doing, they were endangering you. I realized I would have to make a choice. I could go on as I was, but then very likely you would not have survived. Or, I could stop altogether. You see, there were two things that made it necessary for me to not only stop practicing dark magic, but to stop practicing all magic. The first was that the dark magic was like a drug, it was addictive. Every time I used it, it was like a rush of power, adrenaline, and it felt really… good. I wanted to do it more and more. There’s a rush to white magic as well, but it’s not as strong, not as seductive. And one can lead to the other, obviously.”
Drew nodded. He’d read about similar cases, but most of them didn’t manage to gain control, and they were often consumed by the dark forces. He was amazed, but very glad, that his mother had proved to be so strong.
“There was also the fact that my whole family had been killed because of our involvement with magic,” Charis continued. “I thought long and hard about what choice I should make, but in the end it was no contest. I loved you from the moment you were conceived; even when I was so angry that I couldn’t see the love inside of me. You were my son, the son created by my love for Peter. I couldn’t risk you, not with black magic, nor with white. So, I gave it all up, the family legacy, the duty, and the power.”
Drew was shocked by his mother’s story. How could she have done it? Didn’t she regret her choice every day?
“I know what you’re thinking, but the answer is no,” Charis said. “I’ve never regretted that choice, not once. I just wanted to keep you safe, which is why I discouraged your interests. I made a rift between us because I couldn’t support what you wanted to do, even though I always understood it. You were drawn to your field because it’s in your blood, just as you were drawn to Amanda.”
Peter rose and went to Charis, drawing her into his arms. He cradled her. “You’ve always thought we were disappointed with you, with your choices in life, Andrew,” he said, “but we never were. We couldn’t be prouder of you. You’re a fine, fine man, and that woman out there is a good woman. We would be honored to welcome her into this family. And we’re overjoyed about Maia and Sam as well.”
Drew felt tears moisten his eyes. He’d come today expecting to fight his parents, to make them accept his choice, but in the end they’d surprised him.
“Thanks, Mom and Dad,” he said simply, moving forward to embrace them. The three held on for a moment, and then Drew stepped back, drawing a deep breath to compose himself.
“Well, then,” Peter said gruffly, reaching into his pocket. “I think you might want this.”
Peter handed his son a wood carved ring box. Drew raised a questioning eyebrow at his parents.
“It was my mother’s,” Charis said softly, as Drew flipped open the box, revealing a beautiful platinum band, etched with the Celtic eternity knot. The center of the band was a Celtic knot with a translucent, red stone in the center. The stone was shot through with fiery veins of gold and orange. “It’s a fire opal,” Charis explained. “The ring was designed by one of our ancestors for his bride. It is very powerful and symbolizes an eternal love joined with the energies of our world. Many of the women in my family wore this ring on their left hand. I think it would look just fine on Amanda’s.”
“Oh, Mom,” Drew felt like crying again. “It’s so beautiful. It’s… perfect. Thank you.”
“Now, go and propose to the girl,” Peter said gruffly. His eyes were moist as well. “And hope she says yes.”
Drew nodded, rushing out of the room. He was getting married!
ambrose hires danny lassiter
*** Thursday, January 18, 2007 ***
*** Watchers’ Council London offices - office of First Elder Delancre ***
Danny Lassiter sat in the plush chair in the luxurious office of the upscale London building. In his scuffed cowboy boots and battered Stetson, he looked completely out of place. He was totally relaxed however. He never let himself get nervous, or feel out of sorts. That was simply too dangerous in his line of work. To hunt down demons and other supernatural creatures, the only successful option was to be totally calm and level headed. It was more a thinking game than anything else. Danny knew that all too well and he was an expert player, which was why he was here in the first place.
Danny had done his homework, not that he hadn’t already had a clue when he’d been invited to this particular building. Since it housed the London offices of the Watchers’ Council, Lassiter had had a pretty good idea of who it was that was seeking to hire him. He’d actually done work in various parts of the world for this particular organization. Although he thought the Watchers were a bit stiff for his taste, Danny still believed that they were on the right side, so he certainly didn’t mind taking their money. He had standards after all.
Danny turned at the sound of the door opening behind him. In strode a tall, brown haired Englishman, dressed in a suit and tie. The man was well groomed and looked, to Danny at least, like money. Probably old, titled English money at that. Danny didn’t get up.
Ambrose Delancre came into his office and found the “bounty hunter” sitting before his desk, his long legs crossed in front of him encased in faded blue jeans. The man wore a battered, white Stetson on his head, and beat up brown boots on his feet. He certainly didn’t look the part of a master demon hunter.
“Mr. Lassiter?” Ambrose came around the desk and faced the man.
“Mr. Delancre, I presume,” Danny said, standing to offer the other man his hand in greeting. Ambrose took the offered hand and shook it once, firmly, but there was a look of momentary disgust on his face.
“Actually, it’s ‘Lord Delancre’,” Ambrose pointed out.
Danny nodded but didn’t reply. He wasn’t about to call any man “lord”.
“I know who you are,” Danny said, sitting back down and stretching out. “What I don’t know, is what you want with me.”
“I want you to ‘apprehend’ someone for me, Mr. Lassiter,” Delancre replied. “Surely that should be obvious. Why else would I hire you?”
Danny frowned. This bastard was condescending on top of being a stiff. Great!
“Listen, you haven’t hired me, Mister,” Danny replied. “I decide which jobs I take and until I do, I don’t work for you.”
Ambrose swallowed the hot retort that sprang to his lips. With a great effort, he controlled his notorious temper. “Of course, Mister Lassiter, I’m sorry to have been so presumptuous. Please accept my apology.”
Danny grunted. He sat back and waited expectantly. This was Delancre’s show, after all.
Ambrose controlled his irritation. This upstart American was supposedly very good at his job, and Ambrose wanted to hire the best man available. He was eager to get his hands on the little Verbati and start “training” her as soon as possible. The trick was to find the perfect coercion for this man, as he was reputed to be very selective about the jobs he took. Apparently this particular bounty hunter had strict rules about right and wrong, and refused to be caught up in anything he disapproved of. Fortunately for Delancre, though, Lassiter had a really big blind spot when it came to demons. His dad had been killed by a vampire, and Danny had a hate on for all subhumans, which suited Ambrose’s plans just fine.
“I’ve heard from a few reliable sources that you are the very best,” Delancre smiled benignly. He settled in his chair behind the desk, pulling a manila folder out of his drawer. “If that is the case, then you should be the perfect man for this job.”
Delancre opened the file to a pair of pictures of Alessa Hunt, one in her human guise and one in her true form. “This is the creature I’m looking for, Mr. Lassiter,” Delancre continued. “She’s a shapeshifter, very canny and dangerous. As you can see, her natural form is strong and wild, and her chosen human form has its own… dangers.”
Danny stared at the photographs, surprised. The creature in the pictures was a Verbati demon, and although he disliked demons in general, he knew that particular breed to be quiet and peaceful, as a rule.
“Why, exactly, do you want this Verbati picked up?” Danny asked. He had no real problem with capturing any demon, but it rubbed him wrong going after a peaceful one for no real reason.
“Because she’s responsible for this,” Ambrose replied smoothly, pulling out grainy, but graphic pictures of Jimmy Han’s mutilated corpse. He was pleased to see the color drain from Lassiter’s face. While it was true that a Verbati was responsible for what happened to Jimmy, it wasn’t necessarily the Verbati he was after. Danny didn’t need to know that part, though.
“Dear Lord,” Danny bent forward, studying the black and white photos of the disemboweled man. He felt his anger rising. “She did that?”
Ambrose nodded coolly. “Indeed. A Verbati, a rogue one, is responsible for this man’s death, and he is… was one of my best field agents. The Council has suffered a great loss with his death. I, personally, want to see justice is served in this matter.”
Danny nodded, clearly in agreement. He didn’t actually like the First Elder, but he respected him. The man had every right to his feelings, and Danny wouldn’t mind being the instrument of his “justice”. “Right, I get what you’re saying,” Danny said. “So, you want me to pick this… thing up, and then what? ’Cause I noticed you require that she be brought in alive.”
Ambrose nodded grimly. “The Council wishes to deal with her… punishment personally,” he said. “We feel it is within our right to decide how exactly to deal with the creature.”
Again Danny nodded. That too made sense. It would make his job a bit harder, but he appreciated it. “Fair enough,” he said. He took the file, stuffing the pictures back into it. “So, you want me to get started immediately?”
“Miss Hunt, as she is known in human circles, will be making a trip to London shortly,” Ambrose explained. “Once she is here, away from the people she works with, she should be much easier to capture. I suggest you go about it that way. As for the timeframe, as soon as is possible is preferable, of course. Once you’ve grabbed the demon, you will deliver her to this office. I will take it from there.”
“Ok, Mr. Delancre,” Lassiter stood up slowly, tipping back his hat. He held the manila folder in his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”
Ambrose nodded. Whatever the man charged, if he managed to bring Alessa in then he was well worth the trouble, despite his attitude. Ambrose escorted Danny Lassiter out of this office and then settled back in the big leather chair behind his desk. From within the drawer, he drew out a copy of Alessa’s picture. Ambrose studied the demoness, as he had been doing for weeks, feeling that familiar stirring in his loins. Here she was, his perfect match, a truly inhuman in the guise of a perfectly normal woman. Ambrose could barely wait to make her his own.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
18th February 2007 - 2:03am
Los Angeles, America
Cole’s Apartment.
Pandora held out her hand and Cole took it, trembling slightly at the sheer power radiating off her, remembering what she had felt like when they had re-bound Dray’chen. Once Pandora had entered, Cole indicated Darian. “Darian, meet Pandora. Pandora, this is-”
“Darian Gray, yes I know,” she cut in. “I’ve heard of you.” Again, she held out her hand. But Darian did not take it.
“And I’ve heard of you, too. I’ve heard how you show up just after things have gone bad, sort them out to your own liking, and then flee overnight,” he replied, sourly. “I’ve yet to see just exactly whose side you are on.”
“I can assure you, I am on yours. And fortunately, this time, I believe I have arrived just before things ‘go bad’,” Pandora warned.
Jerusalem, Israel
That same time. (18th Feb, 12:03pm)
Chance entered the alleyway, ignoring the fact that, wherever in the world you went, they was always a stereotypical alleyway for shady meetings. His thoughts were bent only on the sword.
Even though the sun was high and it was close to midday here, parts, indeed a great deal, of the alley was concealed in shadow. One such shadow detached itself from the others and made its way towards Chance.
It carried a large sword in a sheath.
The sword.
Chance’s pupils dilated and he licked his lips. Soon.
“Chance?” the shadow called out, still walking.
“I am here, rabbi. It is I.”
“Excellent,” the shadow replied. Still walking, saying no more. Chance stopped. Something was wrong here… something was definitely wrong.
His suspicions were confirmed when the shadow drew his sword. Chance could see it wasn’t Dray’chen’s, but it was just as deadly. And swinging straight for him.
He ducked under the sword, punched the shadow in the gut, heard an ‘oomph’ and it toppled backwards. It fell into a spot of sunshine and the hood it was wearing fell back. The face was not that of Chance’s old rabbi friend. But it had tattooed onto its forehead a green, open eye.
“We have been waiting for you,” the man, whoever, said as Chance approached. “Your time is coming.”
“Where… is… the… sword?” Chance gasped.
The man just smiled. Chance stopped advancing and looked around him. From the shadows, over two dozen similarly robed, decorated and armed men and women stepped forward. They brandished a variety of modern weapons and ancient, and quickly surrounded Chance.
He glanced around, taking it all in, searching for escape routes, but he already knew it. There were none.
He had walked straight into a trap. And he knew it.
“Is it about Chance?” Cole asked. “Do you know where he’s gone? Please, sit,” he waved to a chair.
“Thank you.” She sat, smoothing out her long, blue silk dress. “I would have gone to Alessandra, but her apartment is empty so I came here instead. And to answer your question, yes, I do know where Chance has gone. He’s been lured away by Dray’chen. To Israel.”
“But… but we rebound Dray’chen,” Cole stammered. “How could he…?”
“Dray’chen had a sword. Some of you may have seen it…”
Darian in particular nodded, remembering the weapon from their battle with Proserpexa.
“This is no ordinary sword. It’s possessed by a demon Dray’chen fought and defeated and bound. The binding created a special link between the two, even, it appears, when Dray’chen is dormant. I believe the two colluded and Dray’chen, through the demon, was able to warp Chance to his own ends, corrupting him. Probably through the use of visions on the apocalyptic scale; mass slaughters, etc, making him feel helpless, then offering him a way to stop it all. By which point Chance would have been unable to refuse.”
“Okay,” Darian nodded. “Makes sense, I guess. It was like that thing went everywhere with him. I know hated it…” he trailed off, his thoughts lost in the horror he had felt radiating from the weapon. “So the sword was able to corrupt Chance, to go to Israel. Why there?”
“Have you ever heard of Solomon?” Pandora asked.
“Of course. He ruled an empire in the middle-east, right? About 1st century BCE or something?” Darian asked.
“Correct,” she replied, then took a deep breath. “It can be a lengthy tale, but I’ll try to be as brief as possible. During his reign, Solomon built a magnificent temple, but beneath it was a secret one constructed for a darker purpose. He founded a cult dedicated to the purpose of the temple. All under the order of Dray’chen.”
Chance, bloody, battered and beaten, was dragged into the main chamber. It was large, with a row of columns on each of the left and right walls. He didn’t look at the pillars, though, or the walls. The decorations on them made his eyes hurt. The roof of the chamber was well above him; so far that it was lost in the shadows cast by flickering torch light and he could not see it.
At the far end of the chamber sat a bronze throne. Before that, daubed, undoubtedly in blood, was a pentagram. A taller man, cloaked and hooded, oversaw two cultists applying finishing touches. With their own blood.
Chance was dragged across the floor towards the man. His back was turned, but Chance was half-unconscious anyway.
And moving quickly towards complete unconsciousness. He was looking forward to it. He deserved it.
Dumping their load behind the robed figure, the cultists took two steps back. Chance remained on the floor, vomiting blood once, and trying to focus on something. But all the while the stupidity of himself reigned. To be fooled so…
“Ah, Chance,” the robed figure said, turning around. The voice was deep, but clipped with a sophisticated style. Through blurry eyes Chance tried to make his face out. He couldn’t; it was masked in shadow. “A pleasure for you to join us. Do you know where you are, or why you are here? Of course you don’t. I shall tell you. You are beneath the Temple of Solomon. This is the true Temple, for which the other was but a front.
“And you are here to end the world.”
The half-fae held his hand up. “Wait, you telling me Dray’chen had possessed Solomon?”
“Not exactly, although the demon was working on it.” Pandora conceded. “The site of the temple was special. Countless millennia ago, as legend has it, an ancient race of gods, the Titans, ruled the world. They were beings of near infinite power, but when the world began to become unstable their power diminished. Horrified, they sought ways to preserve themselves. A spirit, it’s exact nature and name lost to the annals of time, suggested they retreat to the centre of the Earth, where the burning fires would surely sustain them. Seeing the wisdom in this, the Titans immediately agreed and fled. There they slept, awaiting the time when the world would settle down and they could reign once more. But the spirit was an emissary of the Powers That Be who tricked the Titans into sleeping for eternity so that the world could become one of man.
“Dray’chen found, perhaps from the demon that inhabits his sword, that a specific sacrifice could summon the Titans from their slumber early on a sacred site. No ordinary mortal, for it had to be mortal, would work; only the results of hundreds of years of preparation. He spent generations using selective breeding techniques, formed countless cults to aid him. Once, he killed a woman’s seven husbands until she went with the one he had selected. Eventually, Dray’chen succeeded.
“Using Solomon’s resources, he was able to construct the Temple above the sacred site; in none other than Jerusalem. It had taken the demon centuries, but finally he was ready.
“But something, nobody knows what, went wrong. The sacrifice's - again his name lost - blood ran until he was dry, and yet no Titan was awakened. Infuriated, Dray’chen gave up, believing the opportunity to have passed and never to come again. The humans being born in later days were weaker, for the most part,” she added with a nod towards Cole, “in the magical sense; there was less of it in them. The supernatural was being eclipsed by the natural. Attempting to breed a new sacrifice could possibly take millennia. Of course Dray’chen has time on his side, but that doesn’t mean he would squander it like so when it can be out killing. And after all, what where the odds that something so rare like that would be created randomly?
“Then, by fluke or luck or chance or fate, whatever you wish to call it, a boy was born with the same to a village in the south of England, in the early eleven-hundreds.”
“Matthew,” Cole whispered, remembering his story from the White Hat meeting. His voice was so light, yet broke the spell of wonder that had settled over the two. Both of them sat with mouths half-agape, entranced.
Beneath the site of the Temple of Solomon
Chance’s head reeled at the full consequences of what he was being told. Sacrifice… Titan… Dray’chen. End of the world. Lying half-dead upon the marble floor, he realised the full truth.
The dreams had lied to him. He wasn’t here to prevent an apocalypse. He wasn’t the one who had been brought here to save the world.
He had been led here to end it.
And there was nothing he could do.
Nothing.
“Yes, Matthew. A boy on whom, if he fell into the wrong hands, could allow a god to walk the Earth. But again, fluke or chance or fate came into play. Only one person saw the signs. Unfortunately for us, that someone was Nicholas.”
“Nicholas as in, Elder Nicholas?” Cole asked, shivering when his thoughts returned to the dark times when the Brotherhood had been in LA.
“The one and the same,” Pandora answered.
Darian snorted, “Small world.”
“If only you knew...” Pandora replied, cryptically. She quickly gathered herself. “Only Nicholas saw the signs, and it took him nearly sixteen years to decode them and track the boy down. There have been various schools of thought on this. Some believe he sought to kill Matthew, lest Dray’chen discover him. If that happened, if Dray’chen joined with the Titan, it would create a hell on earth. All humans would eventually be killed, and vampires would starve to death. Some say Nicholas wanted to join with a Titan himself.
“Either way, the vampire failed and killed Matthew’s sister, mistaking her for him. And so Matthew went through the rest of his life without knowing his fate. Even when Dray’chen possessed him he did not discover the truth. Neither did. We are not exactly sure how this little detail got past the First, but it did. Maybe it wanted to test Dray’chen, in which cast the demon failed. Maybe it did not want one of its generals gaining so much power.” Pandora paused in thought.
“Excuse me,” Cole asked, “but what’s a first?”
“The First, Cole. The First. With capitals,” Darian answered.
Cole’s brows, already furrowed, deepened further. “The First of what?”
“The First Evil,” Pandora said before Darian could. “The First Evil on this plane, perhaps on any.”
Cole still looked confused. “Satan?”
“I am a living example that names are ambiguous, my dear,” Pandora replied with a tight smile. “They may not apply to their holders. But they may.”
Darian snorted again. “A clever way of saying yes and no.”
But Cole shot him a look. This was the woman who helped save Chance, yet Darian was treating her so badly. Perhaps it was because her involvement was required because of him? And that she was here was a constant reminder of what he did? He broke off his thoughts. “We’re getting off topic here. This First Evil had Matthew possessed by Dray’chen in the first place?”
“Of course, it gave us all quite a shock to hear that the man who The First Himself, Horror be His Name, had possessed by His favourite, Dray’chen, was he who could awake the Titans,” the robe was saying. “Anybody would have thought He would have told him. But… His ways are chaotic. It is chaos that He lives by.” He bent down close to Chance, but still his faced was shadowed.
Then Chance realised that his face was shadow. There was nothing in there.
“And with His favourite joined with a Titan, much chaos will be had. At the expense of countless millions of innocents.”
The First Himself. The First Evil. So that’s who had had him possessed all those centuries ago. Who had started him on the path that was leading to this moment; to the end of the world. It made so much sense.
“Yes, after using vampires to separate him from his fellow Knights and then capture him,” she confirmed. “And you’re right. We are getting off topic. Over a year ago now, one day in Russia, in a confrontation between Nicholas and Matthew, they both discovered his fate. I do not know how this happened-”
That’s what it was. The great secret that he had hidden from himself and the world, was that he was going to end it. His mind slipped back to the memory of almost two years ago for the first time since then…
(Legends of the Fated Templar Part 6, Signs and Portents)
Outside of Omsk, Russia
Late Night
Febuary 5th, 2005
Vampires exploded all around Matthew. His sword flashed like lightning, carving through them as they fought to stand against him. They tried. Then they joined the other almost two dozen he had similarly dispatched since storming the mansion.
The mansion where an Elder lived.
Nicholas.
Man and demon were in perfect harmony; the demon’s strength, a man’s control. Against him, none of these vampires could stand.
After several more minutes of fighting, Matthew burst into a banquet hall. At the far end, in parody of the Czars of old, Nicholas sat at the end of a long table, dabbing at the corner of his lips with a handkerchief. A fire crackled off to one side. The room was decorated as if it came from a century ago; with bookcases, ornamental weapons, and large portraits. It was a direct comparison to the massacre that had been Matthew’s entrance. Almost… peaceful. Barring the monster sat at the table.
The Elder looked up at Matthew’s entrance.
“Ah, Matthew, Matthew. Please, come. Sit. I have heard so much about you.” He waved at the only other empty chair, at the other end of the table.
The ex-Knight Templar shook his head, his sweaty hair pasted against his forehead. “You have a reputation of your own, Nicholas. A reputation that means I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
“Of course, of course.” The vampire nodded in understanding, rising. “Such a pleasure to meet one of your types with a sense of… etiquette. Disregarding the fact you entered without an invitation and slaughtered almost... three dozen of my minions, was it?”
“More like four,” Matthew corrected, taking a few steps forward. “Well, call it four and half.”
“Four and a half, then. At least you know how to decline an invitation correctly. Most vampire-hunters these days run in screaming their battle cries, frothing mad at the mouth. And the Slayers…” Nicholas shook his head in disgust. “They make me cringe.” He walked over the fire place, picking up a glass on the way. Matthew could see a red liquid inside, and doubted it was red wince. “Drink?”
“I’ll pass, thank you. I already ate.”
The vampire gave a wide grin. “Me, too.”
The two faced each other down for a matter of moments, then leapt into action. Matthew spun towards Nicholas as the vampire leapt over and above him, dumping the contents of his drink on his back. Some landed in his mouth and he was able to confirm his suspicions; blood.
He turned around to find the vampire doing the same, armed with a sword of his own, taken from the display above the fireplace.
“In case you’re wondering, this is not for display purposes only,” Nicholas pointed out. “It came as a gift from the Lord Dathan, and it’s looking forward to tasting your blood. As am I.”
Matthew brought up his own sword. “You’re both welcome to try.”
“You don’t know a lot, do you?” quipped Darian.
“No, admittedly I do not,” Pandora conceded, her face mournful.
Outside of Omsk, Russia
Early Morning
February 6th, 2005
The fight lasted most of what was left of the night. When dawn broke in, which Matthew was able to glimpse through breaks in the heavy curtains, the room had been ruined from their combat. Now, the two duelled atop the table, trading attack for parry. Matthew was able to throw Nicholas off balance, and he stumbled, his face catching the dying firelight. Although he tried to take advantage and sneak to the vampire’s left, Nicholas recovered almost immediately and his head snapped round to focus on the ex-Templar-
Matthew took a breath of shock and stumbled backwards. He knew that look. The look from which he could not tear his eyes away. The look which had haunted him for nine-hundred years, which had pierced his soul.
He had seen it only once before, and it was a long time ago, but he recognised it.
It was the look the leader of the group of vampires that attacked his village had given him as he searched for Matthew in the woods.
“You… you…” he muttered, stepping away.
Nicholas cocked his head. “Something the matter?”
Matthew gathered himself. “You destroyed my village.”
“You’ll have to narrow it down a bit more.”
“In 1117CE. South of England.” He spat his words through clenched teeth.
But now the vampire took a turn for the worse. His eyes widened. “You were there? Not possible. I killed everyone in that village.”
“Except me.” Matthew watched as the vampire considered this. “Why did you do it? It was more than simple slaughter. It was systematic. Why?”
Nicholas drew his conclusion and smiled. “Because, my dear Matthew, you are going to end the world.”
Back in the Temple, Chance remembered how the vampire had told him everything he had been told now, how they had fought again until Dathan arrived. He had almost died that night, if it wasn’t for the timely arrival of The Vagabond who had helped him escape.
Who had cast the spell that had changed him that night, and had taken effect by the time he had crossed the road from his hotel to the tavern, living the lie he had made to protect the world.
Who had then died for him.
Who he had killed.
Chance could still hear Nicholas promising to keep his eye on Matthew. And his eye he had kept on him. Chance now realised the vampire gang sent to kill him had been under orders from Nicholas. He also remembered his own promise to track down Nicholas and destroy him, before the knowledge he possessed became wide-spread. That’s why he had sent himself on the quest to track down his parents' killers, an Elder Vampire; to remove the evidence. It was all coming together…
“But I know enough to know Matthew knew he could not keep the knowledge from Dray’chen for long,” she went on. “His mental barriers were only so strong. Once the demon found out, it would be disastrous. And so, with The Vagabond’s help, he wiped his memory, created Chance, and locked the secret deep away. It was buried deep, so deep that even when Chance remembered everything else, even when Dray’chen was unleashed, it was still kept secret.”
“Until now,” said Darian, grimly.
Pandora nodded, equally grim. “Until now. Somehow, Chance found out.”
The cloak nodded. “Yes… what a spot of luck that was. There was His favourite, doing His work in the City of Angels, how appropriate. And along came the old Count of St. Germain. How they fought, but how Dray’chen eventually over came him. And what knowledge Dray’chen gained, when he sucked the old Count’s memory dry. Very convenient indeed.” It paused, “Of course, then your filthy friends re-bound him before he could do anything but send off a quick message to our brethren in the Americas. Of course, a quick message was all we needed, and doomed you and this world even further…”
“His mental barriers were nowhere near as strong as Matthew’s, and the demon probably found out almost instantly. It lured Chance to the site of the temple. For even though the demon gave up, the Cult he formed, the Cult of Solomon, had not. They had kept a readiness for centuries, even after their namesake had long died and passed into legend himself, prepared for the return of their founder, teaching their offspring in their ways. The misguided fools, humans mostly, believe they will have a special place in Dray’chen’s new world. They are wrong. With the power of a Titan, the demon will be able to rule the Earth as he sees fit.”
Silence descended, heavy and grim. Darian eventually broke it. “So, what do we do?”
“First we must attempt to stop the ritual before it happens. If we fail, then we must halt it whilst it is underway. No easy task at all. Darian must distract the cultists and keep them at bay, whilst Mr. Matthews and I will attempt to bind Dray’chen back into Chance’s body. That should heal the wounds and stop the blood running, ending the ritual. Unfortunately, we will also have to deal with a half-formed Titan.”
“Not good,” Cole summarised.
“No, not good at all,” Pandora agreed. “Despite its power, the Titan would be vulnerable, and can be banished from the mortal realms.” She stopped.
Darian half held his hand up. “Okay, everybody’s wondering this, and the tension’s killing me, so I’ll ask. How?”
“Striking him with a sword in the same way as a mortal will wound the creature. Its grip on the mortal plane will weaken enough to be banished. But not just any sword, this blade needs to be a superior weapon, magical in some way-”
Darian was already nodding. “Dray’chen’s.”
Pandora smiled. “Yes, yes, that would work nicely. Do you know where it is?”
He shook her head. “No. But I’d say it was a safe bet he took it with him. Which means it’s now in the hands of the cult.”
“Ah, yes. Dray’chen’s old sword,” the empty cloak said, following Chance’s gaze to the blade he wore in the sheath on his hilt. “It has served an excellent purpose, and I am sure that, once he is back in Dray’chen’s hands, he will be well rewarded.”
“Wait, that’s not a problem. Darian could go after it,” Cole suggested.
“But that would leave us undefended, Mr. Matthews,” Pandora reminded.
“No problem. I think Tash is out right now, but we’re part of this group. I can make a few phone calls and-”
Pandora waved her hand, cutting him off. “No, there is not enough time. Already we have tarried here too long. We must go, and quickly.”
Cole thought about this. “Okay, then, I’ll come along and get the sword.”
Darian turned abruptly and gave him a stern look. “You aren’t coming. Were you even listening to how dangerous its going to be? I’ll go with Pandora and we’ll get Chance back.”
The kid returned Darian’s gaze with an equally unfaltering stare. “I appreciate your concern Darian, but if Chance is in that much trouble, there is nothing you can do to stop me from coming.”
“Cole, it's too-”
“Nothing,” he reiterated. “Look, I don’t think I’ll be that much help in the spell anyway. I mean, I’m nowhere near as strong as you are, Pandora. But if you can do it with Darian guarding you, I could probably sneak away.”
Darian finally conceded, knowing that this time Cole wouldn’t give in.
Pandora stopped them with a raised hand. “Before you are committed to this, remember that you will have to search through the Temple for the sword, a temple filled with cultists. And I, focused on ending the ritual, won’t be able to help you.”
Cole chewed his lip. “I’ll do it.”
“Fine by me,” the half-fae replied. “Just let them try and get past me.”
Pandora held her finger up. “One last thing. Only he who woke the Titan can banish it back again.”
Both spoke at the same time. “Chance.”
“Indeed. Mr. Matthews, you’ll have to fight you way through the temple, collect the sword and fight your way back, into the main chamber, and then try to fight your way to Chance and give him the sword. Darian, you’ll have to go against dozen to one, at least, odds. Odds that will be mounting by the minute. I will be attempting to prevent the awakening of a being so old it defies time, so powerful it can knock mountains flat with but a single thought.” Pandora paused, giving them each a steady but grim stare. “Are you sure you’re willing to do this? It is likely it will cost us our lives.”
Darian held his chin up. “If we fail, that won’t matter. We’ll die anyway. But I’m not willing to not try.”
“He risked his life to save mine. I gave up magic, but for him I’ll return just this once,” Cole said, licking his lips. “It’s only fair.”
Pandora nodded. “Then we are agreed.”
Slapping his hands on his knees, Darian made to get up. “I’d better go book some flight tickets then.”
“No need,” Pandora said, her smile returning. “I know a quicker way.”
Chance was dragged again into a cell several floors below the main chamber. The cultists threw him in onto the cold, wet floor where he landed with a slap. He rolled over in pain again, then doubled up when one cultist dealt him a savage kick.
“Now, now,” he heard the cloak say from somewhere behind him. “Be careful with him. We can’t damage him too much… That is, until the ritual starts.” The cloak leaned in again, closer this time. In his groggy state, Chance could swear he still felt breath on his face. “Then, at the appointed time, a few deep cuts, well, many to be honest, and your blood will awaken the Titan, and Dray’chen shall be torn from your fragile, mortal corpse, and he shall become a God himself. And all the Earth will bow in fear.”
The cloak straightened, turned, and walked out. “And just think, dear Chance. This is all your fault. If you weren’t here, the peril you have put the world in would not exist.”
The cloak’s laughter mixed with Chance’s own crying.
Starring a Ringwraith as the being in the cloak.
Part Six: No Waiting ‘Till Tomorrow
I Only Have Eyes For You – Part Six: No Waiting ‘Till Tomorrow
Monday, 19 February 2007 – 7:00pm
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Galen muttered a string of obscenities under his breath as he drove back home. Not only had it taken him almost an hour to cross the city to Chinos State Park but once there he found the site deserted. A quick call to Anderson’s cell phone confirmed his suspicions – the ‘emergency’ had been a prank. He hadn’t thought much about it at first, guessing the ‘perp’ to be some punk rookie at the station with nothing better to do than harass senior officials. As soon as he pulled up on the driveway however, he began to think differently.
The house was in complete and utter darkness. An eerie silence bathed the manor as he warily climbed the porch steps. The front door hung on its hinges, broken from the outside. Galen swiftly withdrew his pistol, keeping his back to the wall as he made his way inside. Every fibre in his body wanted to simply race inside just to find Kate and Emma and make sure they were all right. His sense, however, and his years as an agent with the FBI prevailed and he took his time, clearing the rooms before he proceeded, wary that the intruder might still be inside the house.
The sight that greeted his eyes as he walked through into the living room forced a stunned gasp from his lips. He followed the path of destruction where broken furniture and black scorch marks on the walls only furthered Galen’s distress. He noted broken glass by the foot of he stairs and some dark stains on the floorboards. Carefully kneeling down he touched the dark, liquid pools and lifted them to his eyes… blood.
His heartbeat quickened as he rose to his feet suddenly as he saw his wife over in the corner near the entrance to the kitchen.
“Kate…” he mumbled her name low in his throat, a stab of fear hitting his heart as she saw her laying in a heap on the floor. He moved swiftly to her side, his shoes crunching on the broken glass. “Kate…?” he said again softly, rolling her over and checking her breathing. He heaved a sigh of relief as she began to cough and come to her senses. He helped her sit up, holding her close in his arms.
“Galen…” Kate sighed the name, forcing her eyes open as light and colours all flooded her senses and she could see him for the first time in days.
“Oh my god,” said Galen in relief, one hand cradling her face while the other still wrapped around her body, holding her closely. “…I should never have left you… What happened?”
Kate held her aching head as she began to take in more of her surroundings; the broken furniture, smashed prints laying on the floor, the big black marks dotted across the walls.
“Orin Trask…” she managed to say after a moment, “he, he was here and others, I don’t know…” She rubbed at the side of her neck as she pulled herself out of her drowsy state. She shook her head tiredly, “He seemed so familiar…”
“Who? What?” Galen urged impatiently, she wasn’t making any sense and he didn’t know what to do to help her. *What the hell has gone off here?* he thought wildly as his eyes continued to register the level of destruction. “Kate, who’s Orin Trask?” He paused for a moment, watching her steadily. There was something about her concerned glances that made him think that maybe… “Can you see again?”
Kate nodded her head then groaned when the motion made her feel a little sick. She rubbed tiredly at her eyes, feeling like she’d just awoken from a long sleep. “Orin Trask was the man who attacked us at the restaurant and the same man who was here three days ago…”
Galen frowned, still holding Kate as he helped her up and over to the sofa. He turned it back upright and sat her down. She was definitely tired and looked pretty badly beaten. Then there was Emma, he knew she must be safe because Kate hadn’t asked for her yet, but still… Perhaps the ‘interrogation’ could wait. “You should rest, we can talk about this in the morning.”
“No,” said Kate suddenly. She couldn’t describe the feeling but it was like if she didn’t say what she had to right now the memories might somehow vanish. “I NEED to tell you what happened here tonight, and it won’t wait until tomorrow.”
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
*** December 15th 9pm ***
Oz tossed his coat over the easy chair and collapsed into it with a long sigh. He was exhausted. He'd been spending his days working at the Salvation Army recruiting the people he knew he'd need to confront Reginald.
He was unused to such intervention. As an Angel it was his job to observe, obey and not interfere. *But I am not an Angel any more, am I?*
A knock on the door made Oz groan and rise to see who it might be. He opened the door to see the familiar tiny woman he knew as... "Brinks! Come in, I have been trying to reach you!"
The dark haired woman stepped into the small apartment with a look somewhere between inconvenience and distain. "I know, Ra gave me no less than thirteen messages you left on the answering machine at Sony Records asking for him to contact me. He doesn't even work for Sony Records, Oz... What are you thinking!"
Oz blurted, "Brinkley, I need your help on Christmas Eve, do you have plans?" before she could complete her punch.
She paused, mid-swing, and considered it for a moment, "What did you have in mind?"
Oz figured she was already mad, he had nothing to lose. "I want you to come to midnight Mass with me."
Brinkley's face was a mixture of pain and disgust. She actually stuck out her tongue, "Blech. No way. I hate church; it smells like a cat box that needs to be changed. It's all the false hope and desperate praying. Frankly, I'd rather not."
Oz started to say something and she smacked him soundly on the head, "And you left fifteen messages at Sony records for me because you wanted a date for Christmas?"
Oz retreated out of range, "It was only about ten messages and I wouldn't have done it unless it was important, Brinks. Trust me. I need an Archangel on hand on Christmas Eve."
Brinkley sighed. She liked Oz, but she was beginning to regret intervening in his life. He was missing the point. He wanted to feel involved, but he had gotten himself involved in a mess of pain. *I should give him some excuse, but I don't want to leave him hanging. If he says he needs my help, I should respect that he knows what I am capable of and I am fairly certain that he wouldn't ask unless it was important.*
Brinkley sighed in resignation, "I'll go with you, Oz, but after this, you'd better be careful what you ask for."
Oz seemed to breathe easier, "I appreciate it, Brinkley, it's very important. Really."
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
*** Sunday, December 17th 10am***
Oz sat in the back pew with the twelve people he had brought with him to church. They smelled to high heavens. Even though most of them had showered, they had no clean clothes to wear. Most of the congregation looked right past them. Oz was amazed at how people actively weren't talking to them or even greeting them. He felt as if he was sitting in a void of avoidance.
This was exactly what he wanted. He didn't want to be noticed by the congregation, he wanted to be noticed by Reginald. Reginald had been acting stranger and stranger the last few weeks. He had made even less sense than usual. His personal appearance had deteriorated. It looked as if he had stopped shaving and his robes hung off his frame loosely as if they weren't held up by anything beneath them.
He was preaching to the congregation with all of his concentration. Oz was deliberately not focusing on his words but he was focusing on the congregation. He and his companions watched as the congregation began to fray at the edges. They unfocused and began to blur slightly. Oz was focused on Reginald, and each of his companions had chosen a member of the church to focus upon. Together they all were holding the congregation together as Reginald was trying to pull them into the Logos with him.
James Anderson was seated in the front pew and he was at rapt attention. He had been coming here for years and suddenly the Spirit was in him. He could feel his soul straining to break free and fly forth in rapture. He only felt it on Sundays. By Friday the scum he had to deal with on a daily basis had dragged his soul back to Earth. But on Sundays, it could soar.
In the back of his mind James could feel the eyes of the homeless folks that that new guy, *What was his name?* had brought with him. They bored into the back of his head making him both uncomfortable and causing him to lose track of what he was doing. They caused him to lose the feeling of bliss that Father Reginald was giving him with his words.
Hate rolled off James Anderson along with contempt and foul thoughts. Reginald stopped his sermon in mid-sentence. He seemed confused. He had lost his momentum, and Oz felt it in the back of the church as people yawned, blinked and fidgeted in their seats. Reginald had lost this round, but next Sunday it would start again. And Oz knew it.
After the service, James pulled Oz aside roughly. "Listen here buster, I don't know what sort of 'ministry' you are trying to pull here by bringing these huddled masses into our church, but I am going to tell you to do it at another parish."
Oz smiled. James' words were proof that his plan was going to work at least in the short term. Oz held out his hands peacefully, "This is the house of the Lord, and all are welcome. He has said, 'so as you do to the least of my brothers so do you unto me'. Would you turn Jesus away from this house, Mr. Anderson?"
James shook in silent rage and several of the other parishioners came and guided him away. Their pats on James' back showed Oz that the congregation shared James' attitude. This would become a fight… and soon.
Oz was about to return to his vagrant friends when Reginald was suddenly in front of him. "Oh, Mr. DeAngelo, I'd like a word with you if you don't mind. And that word is heretic!"
Reginald aimed a kick at Oz that took the angel completely by surprise. The blow landed soundly on the back of his thigh and sent him pinwheeling through the air to land hard on his back on the lawn of the church. Some of the parishioners gasped and turned away from the sight in embarrassment.
"You have made this righteous man fill with furious anger because I carried this watch up my ass for all those years and you left it on the kangaroo!" Reginald was screaming non-sequiturs at Oz as he stomped across the lawn, leaving inch-deep boot prints in the soil.
Oz rolled and stood. He took a defensive stance and Reginald came at him with a red face. When it was clear that Reginald wasn't going to stop, Oz tried to punch at him. Oz saw his swing pass through Reginald like a ghost, as if in slow motion.
Reginald smiled, "Can't touch this. It's hammer time."
Oz saw stars as Reginald slammed his fist into Oz's astonished look.
When Oz came around he realized that his homeless followers had surrounded him and Reginald was standing there breathing heavily and scowling at them. His voice rumbled, "You will be scattered before the Might of the Lord as leaves before the storm. You will blow away like chaff from the wheat. My faithful will stand in my right hand as I grind the faithless into the dust beneath my boot. I have to go eat lunch now because Mrs. Wiggins of the altar guild had made scones. You are not welcome in my house because you didn't take off your shoes. Bad gardening, you scamps."
He shook his head as if to clear it. His eyes wandered and he sort of ambled away muttering about cream cheese and peanut butter.
"What an eccentric performance," said one of the men that was supporting Oz, "Are you okay? He thrashed you pretty good."
Several of the other men of the congregation were running towards the cluster of them. Even though dressed in their Sunday suits they were obviously angry and were muttering about the unprovoked attack on Father Reginald. Oz and the other men all stood and scrambled away.
Oz was feeling the strain; he had spent more than week teaching these barely focused people of the street about the Idea and how it worked. He had taught them to pray and to meditate, to focus their chi and center their chakras until they were anchored spiritually and mentally.
In most cases they had not believed him. They had been as unfocused as humans could be. But Oz was patient and somehow they had found, in him, a purpose to latch onto. And he had found a purpose in leading them.
He had been in homeless shelters and on the street and was building an army. This was his first time facing Reginald with his 'troops'. He saw how Reginald was preparing the congregation of Lilies-of-the-Field United Baptist Church for what Oz could only see as a showdown of Divine forces.
He hoped that Brinkley would keep her promise and be there next Sunday.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
***Sunday, December 24th, 2006 *** Christmas Eve ***
Oz sat in the mini-bus he had rented and wished it wasn't so cool tonight. He had the window down but even so the smell was really overwhelming. Brinkley was dressed in a nice blue dress that showed off her petite figure and she had fixed her dark hair in an elaborate style that made Oz sorry he had not been able to tell her what he had planned to do.
She was pretty sullen about being forced to sit in this van with these smelly people. She had not spoken to Oz for the last twenty minutes as they sat here and waited for the Christmas carols to stop being sung and for Reginald to catch the 'spirit' again and begin to preach.
Oz had been watching and he felt he knew what Reginald was planning. At first he had been hypnotic. Then he seemed to take over the hearts and minds of the parish. Then, last week, the parishioners had begun to run and blend together like wet paint and Reginald held the brush. If Oz did not intervene then Reginald would use their faith in him to touch the Logos and merge with it.
Then, he would draw the entire world in with him like flushing turds down a toilet. It would be the Rapture with a madman as the judge. Oz could not allow it to happen. It was unfortunate that Reginald was untouchable. He seemed to be an Idea himself; the leftovers of a man. It meant that Oz could not rely on his arms and sword to fight this threat. This time, he had to use his mind and faith to stand against it.
To this end, Oz had called these homeless who had been happy to help. Once Reginald began to merge with the congregation, he would have to lower himself to their level. He would have to be able to touch them. Then he would be vulnerable. Oz hoped that Brinkley would be able to drain him and remove him as a threat.
That was the plan at any rate. Oz listened to the songs and wondered what was happening inside.
James Anderson was inside and listening to the carols being sung. He never sung along because he felt stupid and thought that his voice sounded more like a car horn than singing. He was looking around at all of the people in the church for Christmas Eve services and wondered how anyone could only go to church once a year.
James was thinking as he mouthed the words to keep up the appearance of singing that church was larger than the prayers, songs, banners, organs, flowers, and even the church itself. It was about being part of something larger than him.
James liked to be a part. Like he was a part of the LAPD, James felt as if the Church was a vast network of connections between people of different cultures, lives, and beliefs all radiating out from a central idea. An idea that…
He spotted a van parked out on the street that was full of people. James got angry and the thought that he had been destined to have at that precise time and place fizzled away as he realized that it was that troublemaker Ozimandius DeAngelo.
Over the past week, he had dug up as much information as he could about Mr. DeAngelo. Which is to say, not a lot. It seemed that this strange person suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a driver's license, an apartment, a car that had belonged to an elderly mechanic and a habit of 'helping' the homeless.
A complaint of harassment had been filed by Sony Records but was still being investigated. There was not a lot to be said about Mr. DeAngelo. And that meant he had secrets. Detective Anderson hated secrets; mostly because they made his job a lot harder. James stood up and walked towards the back of the church as the last verses of Silent Night quietly came to a close.
Had James been facing the front of the church he would have known why there was a collective sigh from the congregation. He would have completed his thoughts about the Idea and would have known that what was about to happen was wrong and that if he did one small thing it would all have ended right then and there.
But when one is aware of the Idea, it makes things get very, very complicated. Ozimandius knew that, but right at that moment he wasn't thinking about it. He was focused on intervening.
He and his cohorts jumped out of the minibus and began to stride purposefully towards the church. Anderson exited the church and held up a badge and announced with an authoritative voice, "You are under arrest for Trespassing, Mr. DeAngelo. I suggest your friends go back to their van or I will charge them as well."
Oz stopped in front of Anderson and looked him in the eye, "I'm sorry, James. I wish we could have had different circumstances to meet under. We might have been different kinds of friends. Merry Christmas."
Oz sucker punched James hard in the stomach and then kneed him in the face. James blacked out as Oz stepped over him and into the church.
Inside, it was chaos. The congregation was a multicolored blur of light streaming towards a levitating Reginald. The altar, vestments, candles and even the acolytes and banners all looked like melted wax running towards Reginald.
Reginald himself was a pillar of light topped by his bizarre grin and wild hair. His arms were beams of light the stretched farther and farther apart. Oz shouted at his 'troops' to anchor the congregation. The thirty or so people ran to the front of the colorful flow and knelt with their backs to the light and formed a dam of sorts, shored by faith and personal strength to hold back the tide of reality.
Oz stepped forward to confront Reginald. He looked back to see if Brinkley was following and saw she was standing at the back of the church. Her mascara was running down her face and she was crying. Oz was stunned. This wasn't what he had expected.
She threw her matching clutch down on the floor, shoved a blob of dark blue color aside and slumped into a pew. Oz glanced at Reginald who was lost in the moment. "Brinkley, what is the matter? There isn't time for this." Oz tried to sound concerned but he was mostly a little annoyed that she wasn't going to fight.
She slapped Oz hard and grabbed a handful of his dark hair and yanked his face down to hers. Through gritted teeth and sniffles she explained it to him.
"You pompous shit-head. You have really fucked this up. If you thought that this was going to happen why did you take it upon yourself to try to fix it? What exactly did you think was going to happen? Did you think that you would cross dicks with Mr. I-Fucking-Am-The-Idea over there and then I'd swoop in and brain fuck him and then it would be all over? Yes, I can see that you did."
Oz did not know what to say. He knew that was what had to be done. It was the only way. Brinkley knew he would think that. She knew what she had to do and would do it. Now, there truly was no other way. But Oz and she would both pay for it. If she had anything to say about it, Oz would pay a lot more than she would.
Reginald was slowly winning as the tide of colors crashed like waves upon the jetty of homeless people at the front of the church. Brinkly waded through them to the front and called up to Reginald, "Hey lighty-pants! Your shoelaces are an unsupported argument and so can't hold your shoes on!"
Reginald had been thinking that he had a choice. He could be the messenger for the world, bringing the Logos to save the world. But in the few moments that he had had to reflect on the consequences of this action that the living dam had provided he was beginning to realize that he could actually supplant the Idea. He could become the Logos. In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was …
Reginald looked down at the sound at his feet. For a second the world was in his focus. He became a conduit between Reality and the Idea. And the Idea heard the world. Every day there are hundreds of millions of entreaties to a higher power. They cry out for mercy, and need. They seek wisdom, riches, answers, proof, and most of all attention. For a moment…just a moment…they got it.
*** 10:42 pm ***
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
*** December 24th 10:24 pm *** Christmas Eve ***
Scattered all over the table and most of the floor surrounding Thule’s writing table were books upon books, most of which seemed to be older then him, themselves showing their age through the much worn out leather and paper. Some had writing, which was on the verge of fading away. Thule sat on his table feverishly taking notes on anything he could grasp, and then turning the pages of the book in front of him almost violently if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. At times he would look through a book and with a frustrated glance cast it aside almost immediately, taking another book in its place.
His current book was entitled “Prophecies and Their Value Throughout Time”, which Thule was much engrossed in, taking into account the way different prophecies worked and what their result were, those that had already been accomplished. He found this somewhat of use on the issue of prophecy itself, but of little use on the issue of the prophecy of The Two. So far he had not come up with anything that had remotely sounded like the prophecy telling him about The Two, but he was sure the search wouldn’t be easy.
First of all finding anything on the Koolangs at all was difficult itself, them being so scarce and almost extinct. But there was a bit of information on the Kumacs and the Macabres, which Thule had already exhausted, and of which he had told Tarix almost all.
He felt quite tired and looked up at his watch and found out he’d been sitting at his place for the last six hours straight. He looked around his familiar study room, which had now been made festive with a few decorations. Thule thought it would be best for the twins to have something of a pleasant environment among all the unpleasant encounters. He had told them where the decorations were and helped them to put up some of the initial ones. He then let the girls continue with it, as he sat down to put his research into effect. From time to time he’d look up to see how the girls were coming along, and finally he saw them put up a tree, that should have been place there days ago, and sit down to take a break.
The twins had then come and helped him with his search looking through some books, but they weren’t that successful and had a tendency to get bored quickly and started to overlook information. At that time Thule decided to give them a break, a long one, and told them they could go up and watch TV, as if sending two small girls to keep out of trouble. But Jessy had said that she would do no such thing on Christmas eve, where the rest of the population was opening gifts probably and they were making it seem like an ordinary day. She then announced that she was going out and that the isolation was killing her, and that having a look at some of the other Christmas spirit and listening to some carols would do her good. Tarix, still feeling uncomfortable around Thule, agreed with Jessy and quietly added that it would be safe if they both went together.
So they left Thule all alone in his work. So far he’d only come up with a bit of information on the codex of Kh’Kum, in which words like “Catalyst” or “The Switch” were often used to describe it in other languages.
Thule heard a sound of the front door opening and then closing and grew cautious for a minute. After hearing familiar voices he lowered his guard. The twins were talking among themselves and went towards the kitchen. *Probably to grab something to eat,* Thule thought. He looked down and decided it was time to take some rest. He gathered the books he’d read through and put them in a pile. *I’ll take them back to the Order, and perhaps make a list of other books that I might need.* Even though Thule had quite a library of books himself, out of which he had given Tarix only a fraction for reading, there was a far greater variety of books at the Order, which Thule had found very useful in his work before.
After he had gathered the books in a pile he took a bit of breath of air and turned around and opened his window. He closed his eyes and relaxed as he breathed in the crispy cool air that seemed to calm and soothe his skin, making him fresh. He sensed someone behind him and turned around.
“Hey Thule, sorry. We didn’t want to disturb you but we went and got some groceries.” It was Tarix and she was holding a packet of crisps and peanut brittle in her hand. “Or you could say shopping for junk food,” she smiled slightly, “And I was wondering if you’d like anything to eat?”
After he refused Tarix took a packet from behind her and held it out for Thule. It was a neatly gift wrapped small box with ribbons all over. “Jessy and I thought of bringing you something for Christmas. Well, Merry Christmas!” There, as if on cue Jessy strolled in with a chocolate milkshake in one hand and cookies in the other.
“Hope you like it Thule, we weren’t much sure of your style but decided on this one,” she said, munching on her cookies.
Thule nodded politely and smiled as he took the gift. He felt bit guilty for not buying the twins anything, as the prospect had totally flown from his mind. But he hoped he’d give the twins a late Christmas present as soon as he solved the prophecy. He unwrapped it and saw a green and yellow polka dotted tie, lying innocently in its box.
“Yes, it's, um, very nice.” He put the lid back on the box and thought of where he’d hide it away from his sight. “Thank you very much. I was hoping to give you more answers to the prophecy as my gift, but it doesn’t look like I’ve gotten far.” He then began to discuss a bit about what he had found, which wasn’t much, just information on the Codex of Kh’Kum and it origins, more about the Kumacs. He didn’t mention the Macabres, as he didn’t want to strike a nerve in Tarix. The twins listened silently, from time to time inquiring further or popping crisps in their mouths.
Thule finished his discussion and turned back to the window to close his eyes and feel the wind again. He heard the twins talking among themselves, giving each other small gifts they had purchased at the last minute and then growing silent again to munch on more food. He thought over and over about the prophecy, trying to figure out if he had missed anything, trying to put pieces together. He still found he didn’t know a great deal.
He sighed, “I only wish if there was just some way the prophecy could be clear or some sign of the taking place of the ritual, it would make this a bit more easy.” He whispered it to himself and then in his mind thought of the names of other books he’d seen in the inventory and how they might help.
*** 10:43 pm ***
Suddenly there was a cry behind him and he turned around and saw Tarix had cried out in pain. She was holding her head and seemed to be twitching as if spasms were hitting her. Thule came running to aid Tarix but Jessy didn’t seem to notice and popped another crisp into her mouth, Thule looked up at her as if glaring at her unhelpfulness.
“Oh please, chill Thule. She’s probably having another one of those memory flashbacks, that I have gotten, oh, so used to.” She sipped her milkshake. “I mean she should get used to the pain now, it's getting kind of b-”
At that Jessy broke off and cried in pain herself and grabbed her head. She tried to stand up but fell hard on the floor at Tarix’s feet, twitching with spasms as her sister was.
Thule helplessly looked from one girl to the other not knowing what to do. The visions ended as quickly as they had begun and both the girls lay on the floor gasping for breath, feeling as if they had ran a thousand metre race. Thule felt relieved to see them come out of the fit. “You both really shouldn’t eat that much,” he finally said.
He made them both lie down but the twins were too restless to relax, finally Thule asked them to tell him what happened.
“It was just like it was when my memories were returning…”
“…lots of white flashy lights, gave me a double headache…”
“…coming into view, it was weird, like I was there…”
“But not so there…”
Thule gestured them both to stop. “Now look, take it one at a time. Tarix, what did you see?”
Tarix took a deep breath and began again. “I found myself in a room. I don’t know what kind of a room; it seemed spacious but in a way I felt claustrophobic. I couldn’t feel myself and then I looked down and saw something sticking out of my stomach or something. And before I could observe any more I felt a great pain go through all of me, and it felt as if I was dying but…”
“...the pain seem to mean something, it gave you pleasure…” Jessy continued.
“...and excited you further…” Tarix responded.
Thule went thoughtful. “Well it seems you both might have seen the same thing. We just have to figure out what it means.” He paused and then began again. “Did you both see what was in your stomach?”
Both the twins shook their heads grimly. “But in a way it felt as if someone had stabbed me, and somewhat as if it belonged there,” Jessy added, then her eyes went wide in shock, and she looked at Tarix who seemed to reply back with a shocked expression of her own.
“It feels like it’s still there,” they both said in unison and quickly lifted their shirts slightly and saw nothing in their bellies. Tarix’s belly button still had the “x” marking she had noticed before, but she saw Jessy’s had a marking too, but it was more of a circle. But rather than relax they both touched their belly buttons and to their horrors their fingers came back bloody.
Be careful what you wish for...
Be Careful What You Wish For...
24th December 2006 – 10:44pm
‘Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse…
*What a load of crock,* Tash thought as she stared unseeing at the mound of papers before her. She was still not really fit enough to go hunting yet, although she had been doing some gentle training this afternoon. But some things didn’t wait for convalescence; the end of the financial year was rapidly approaching and Tash found herself up late on Christmas Eve facing down a pile of paperwork so large you could light a bonfire with it.
*Not a bad idea, really.* With a sigh, she dismissed the idea as rapidly as it had formed. The computer screen glowed blue against her cheek as it displayed the incomings and outgoings of the Foundation, and Tash tried to reconcile the titles on the totals with the headings of the boxes on the blank forms before her.
Once more her mind wandered and she found her eye resting on the letterhead of one of Victor’s printed invoices. *I wonder why he put an ampersand between the W and the H of White Hats?* Sighing again, she shuffled the piece of paper to the bottom of the pile and leant back in the chair.
She was tired. It may not have been late by her usual standards, but since her run in with James a few days ago she’d been sleeping rather a lot. And she didn’t really need to be looking at these accounts yet, with the end of the financial year still a week away and her books not yet finalised. No, she knew what was really keeping her up. Her problem was, it was at night when she was alone in her bed that she missed Victor the most. It was then that all the regrets became overwhelming; regrets for things done and for things not done.
“I just wish I could see him one more time, hold him one more time,” she breathed to herself.
Closing the folder of papers, Tash resigned herself to another lonely night, and shut the office door behind her. On the opposite side of the hall, the door to apartment 205 stared balefully back at her. So many memories hid in that apartment; she didn’t dare go in for fear she’d never emerge again. So she trudged up the stairs to her new home, resisting the temptation to relive some of her old memories.
Something tugged at her senses as she entered her flat, and she instantly went on the alert. Someone was in here. She stalked through the rooms searching carefully, until she reached her bedroom. The knife she’d raised to defend herself against her unknown intruder fell to the floor as she recognised the face that greeted her.
“Hello, Tash,” said Victor.
Tash merely stood, mouth agape, emotions whirling, as she stared at Victor’s face. Not Victor the G’rnathan Battle Fiend, but Victor the handsome black man. She backpedalled as he moved towards her, and his brow furrowed in that way she knew only too well.
“What’s the matter? Have I got a booger hanging out my nose or something?” he asked.
“But, but, you’re on G’rnatha,” Tash finally stammered. “You can’t be Victor.”
Victor looked abashed. “Well, no, not really. But close… Sit down, and I’ll explain. Really,” he said at Tash’s obvious reluctance, “I’m not here to harm you or anything. I’m as close to Victor as Z’thrukaht could get.”
Tash’s face drew down in a scowl. “Dammit, I told him I didn’t want a replacement Victor. And if Z’thrukaht sent you, why now? We’ve been back for nearly three months.” She eyed ‘Victor’ with distrust, though she took the proffered seat on the edge of the bed almost without thinking. He really was so like her own Victor in looks and mannerisms. It was uncanny.
“He had to make sure I was accurate in every detail. It took Z’thrukaht considerable time to ensure I was perfect for you, before he sent me here. Nanites were taken from the original Vrithetek – Victor, if you prefer – to create me, and his personality and memories were embedded in my programming. To all intents and purposes I am Victor. I… Tash, I missed you so much while I was being formed. It took so long to be sure I was right in every detail, but I felt his love for you. My love for you.” He moved to join her on the bed, but Tash stood quickly.
She shook her head, “No, no, please don’t do this. Victor’s gone. I can’t just have a replacement and live on as though nothing happened, when really he’s back there on G’rnatha. Please, I asked Z’thrukaht not to do this…”
It broke her heart to see how his face fell at her rejection, and tears welled unbidden to her eyes. “I miss him so much…”
“But I’m here. You don’t have to miss me any more,” Victor soothed. “I’m here and I love you, Tash.”
As he put his arms around her and she breathed in his familiar scent, Tash could almost forget that the real Victor wasn’t here. This one was so like him. She held on as though she were a drowning woman holding onto a piece of flotsam. Victor soothed back her hair. “Shh, it’s all right. I’m here now, Tash.”
For a long time they stayed that way, just holding each other, until Tash eventually pulled back, her eyes no longer wet. She knew what she had to do. “I’m sorry, but you’re not Victor. You’re separate from him, and deserve to develop your own personality rather than mimicking his. You have a soul, and it’s not Victor’s. Go home. Please, just leave me alone and go home.”
“But, Tash-”
“Shh.” Tash held her fingers to Victor’s lips. “Please, don’t make this harder for me. You have no idea how much I want to throw myself into your arms and stay there forever. But I can’t. This isn’t your life – it’s his. But he’s not here to have it any more. You have to go back. Go home to G’rnatha. Please, for me.”
Victor’s face fell, but he couldn’t refuse her. And his master had warned him that Natasha might not be receptive, and what he should do if she rejected his presence. “If you insist,” he said sadly, “but please take this.” He held out a small organic looking device. “If you change your mind, this will contact me on G’rnatha. I can be here in just a few hours.”
He bent his head, catching her chin in his hand, and they shared a long, lingering kiss. Tash had to close her eyes in a futile attempt to stop the flood of tears that washed over her face. Then the kiss stopped, and Victor whispered, “Remember, if you want me for anything, just think my name into that device and I’ll be here. I love you, Tash.”
She watched silently as he left through the door, to make his way back through the portal he’d used to get here.
“I love you too, Victor,” she said into the dark as she slowly crushed the device underfoot.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
December 23rd
Laughing Dogs Restaurant
8:00 am
Alessa raced out of Bibliophile in search of Inés, but she didn’t have to run much. Her cousin was leaning on a wall, not two blocks from the library. She was breathing heavily and a hand fluttered in her hair. Alessa sighed and walked towards her, noticing that Inés was crying; big, silent tears fell down her cheeks.
“Come on, querida. We can't stay here, let’s go to the ‘Dogs’ there,” she said, signalling the Laughing Dogs Restaurant with her head. “Another cup of tea won't do you no harm.”
Inés just nodded and followed her to the restaurant. When they were sitting and served, Alessa talked.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“What did you say he did?” asked Inés at the same time. Her tone was cold, she didn’t even seem interested.
Alessa sighed but answered. “He killed Daye’s friend, a Watcher. Daye’s a Watcher too, by the way. I think I didn’t tell you.”
Inés chuckled. “You meeting Watchers again, Al? I thought you had learnt your lesson.”
Alessa grimaced but she was relieved to listen to her wisecrack comments once again. She must be feeling better.
“Sí, I know… but I don’t think Daye is your usual Watcher.” She winked at her, “Otherwise I wouldn’t like her. Remember I only like rogue Watchers.”
“Ya sé,” Inés gave a grim chuckle. “What were the odds of the killer being Raúl, Alessa? I haven’t heard of him in more than fifty years and now…” her voice broke and she had to fight back the tears again.
“I know. They weren’t high, but you know how it is with Fate, one can never know when it will turn your way,” Alessa said slowly.
She would have killed Raúl with her own hands if she could, but she had never had the opportunity. The demon had been banished long before she went to live with her tribe, and had never come back until that time fifty years ago, when he had attacked his own sister. Alessa hadn’t even been in the jungle when it happened, but she had been called back by her grandfather, to care for her. She was the only one Inés had wanted by her side, and Alessa had been there for her. Inés had never been the same again, something in her had died that night.
“My way?” Inés raised her beautiful eyes from her cup and Alessa was surprised to see them red, the demoness never lost control of her changing. “What do you mean, my way?”
Alessa just stared into Inés eyes and gripped her hand strongly.
“That demoness back there, Alice? Well, she’s dangerous, more than you can imagine. And Daye, she’s dangerous too, she’s a powerful witch. And they are set on Raúl’s trail now.” Alessa inhaled deeply and added. “And if they fail to get him, I’m here as well, and I’m dangerous too.”
“He will pay for what he did to you, one way or another,” she said, her own eyes flashing red as well.
Featuring Eduardo Noriega as Raúl Montero.
Mid-Season Three: Nov 1, 2006 - Feb 28, 2007
Jerusalem, Israel.
Underneath the site of the Temple of Solomon
Feburary 18th,
Mid-afternoon.
Bound and bloodied, Chance cried out in agony again as the cultist descended with the torture instruments once more. The torture was designed, he knew, to break his will; the first step to break the bindings around Dray’chen.
Knowing this, it still bloody hurt.
More so, because he had brought it upon himself.
They would only finish to move on to the other preparation work for the ritual. Which, in itself, would be so painful he would die.
But that didn’t much matter. Because the rest of the world would be joining him soon after.
And it was his fault. Nothing could be done about it.
Chance screamed again.
That same time
On the other side of the city.
Within a mechanic’s shop an unearthly wind picked up, blowing loose sheets around in a miniture whirl-wind. It increased to rattle tools.
Electricity began arcing between cars in the process of repairs.
Within the centre of the maelstrom, time and space exploded outwards; reality distorting and stretching. When it constrained and returned to normal again, three figures were standing. The wind immediately died down and the lightning flickered out.
By then, the staff and customers were long gone.
Standing between heavily armed Darian and Cole, Pandora slumped and nearly fainted. Cole just managed to catch her, and was surprised at how light and fragile she felt.
“A… room…” Pandora managed to utter. “Must… find… somewhere to… rest. Then… we can… do what… we… came for.”
The two men looked to each other and nodded. Easily able to carry Pandora, Cole followed Darian out, looking for the nearest hotel.
My Big Fat Final Post for Midseason!!
Sunday, 25 February 2007 – 8:00am
Chino Hills State Park – Los Angeles
Kate glanced at Jack as they walked steadily through the park. She pushed Emma’s stroller slowly, allowing the little girl to take in all of her surroundings. It was a beautiful day for the end of February, sunny and comfortably warm. It was amazing what a difference a few months made, Kate thought as they continued on their walk. This time last November everything had been in a state of hibernation, a collection of muted dull colours. Now, however, things were very much changed. Kate had always taken great pleasure from observing the turn of the seasons but more so this year since she had learnt just how precious her sight actually was. In the last few days she’d often caught herself gazing at some small, insignificant detail like the colour of the bedspread or the shape of the clouds in the sky.
As they walked Kate found her eyes were again drawn to the most tenuous details, there was much enjoyment to be had in watching the earth awaken from its long slumber. Green shoots and buds had already begun to sprout, even a few early flowers had managed to thrust their way to the surface divulging their much-missed brilliance. Spring was most definitely on the way.
Much had happened in Kate’s life since that similar morning over three months ago yet here she was again, pushing Emma along in her stroller, Jack walking at her side. It was strange how some things could change while others remained the same.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Jack warily, eyeing a particularly nasty graze to the side of Kate’s head that was just starting to heal. The night’s events involving Orin Trask were still in the forefront of all their memories, especially Jack’s for obvious reasons. He’d suspected that Kate’s blindness was the ultimate design of Aimes Carmichael and his lackey Gemmel even though he had nothing to prove as such except coincidence, gut instinct and several incriminating verbal threats.
”As for your family… well, you might want to keep a closer eye on them in the future… I know I will be…”
Aimes’ words still haunted Jack, The Ministry were infamous for their patience, well practised in observing their targets – sometimes even for years before they made their final play. The latest test they’d inflicted upon Kate wasn’t the end. He knew it, felt it deep inside. If anything it was just the beginning. Whatever information they’d needed on Kate they undoubtedly now had, it was just a matter of their making a final move.
“I’m fine,” said Kate in answer to her father’s question, she stole a glance at his face, he looked so tired and weary, as though he held a most terrible burden.
“I wanted to talk to you about that night,” he admitted finally, bringing their slow walk to a stop. “This man… the one who spoke to you… tell me about him.”
Kate shook her head frustratedly, it was something that she’d tried desperately to piece together over the past few days with little success, the plain truth of the matter was that she hadn’t seen anything, just a few blurry images, colours… nothing of any substance. “I only know what I heard… what I felt…” she sighed, “I don’t know how to describe it, the way he spoke to me… it was like he knew me, like we’d met before or something.”
At Jack’s insistent nodding she continued, “I got the sense that he was strong, powerful… very powerful. I could feel his energy surrounding me… The others, they were afraid too.”
Jack’s eyes locked with Kate’s, he’d already put two and two together to work out that the first two men who had interrupted the fight with this Orin Trask character had been Carmichael and Gemmel but the identity of this third eluded him. It frightened him also, a man with that kind of power – especially one that took a direct interest in his daughter, there was undoubtedly a hidden agenda there.
“It was more what he said,” Kate carried on, “that he’d been watching me for a long time, and he… he seemed to know things, things in the future, he talked about destiny. Yours… …mine… theirs…” she shuddered, hearing the man’s words clearly in her head. “Destiny is what lies ahead. Life at its most trying… pain, unimaginable…”
Jack suddenly took hold of her by the shoulders holding on to her tightly. He didn’t like the sound of any of this, his short experience of working with The Ministry only added to his anxiety. He knew what sort of people they were, ruthless… calculating… They truly would stop at nothing to achieve their objectives and if one agent died in the process, another simply took his place. They had virtually unlimited resources, countless connections, over hundreds of places from which to conduct their affairs. He physically shuddered at the thought of it, he knew his next plea would be a futile one but he had to at least try. If he was unable to warn her outright he had to at least try to get her out of the firing line.
“Kate please,” he said intensely, holding her firmly so that she looked directly at him, “I want you to leave Los Angeles immediately. You, Galen, Emma… at least for a short while, go far away… Anywhere, so long as it isn’t here.”
Kate recoiled, taken aback by Jack’s sudden and unexpected request. “What’s going on Jack?” she asked in confusion, her eyes searching those of her father. His attempt to avoid her gaze only confirmed what she’d begun to suspect. “You know who’s behind this don’t you?” she asked with suspicion. “What…? Jack? Tell me what’s going on!”
“I- I can’t!” said Jack pitifully, hanging his head in despair. Try as he might he still was unable to divulge anything about The Ministry. The pain was horrendous, he wanted to just cut his own throat in an attempt to release the spell that bound his tongue.
Kate’s expression faltered, becoming sympathetic again as she went to Jack’s side, sitting him down on a park bench. He still held his head in pain, feeling impotent and useless.
“You’ve been so quiet these past few days, so distant, blocking me out of your thoughts… I should have known something was wrong.” Kate’s eyes searched Jack’s covered face as she pieced the puzzle together finally. “That’s why you were so strict with me that night? …You were trying to prepare me? You knew something like this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
Jack looked up tiredly, his eyes appearing worn and flushed with anxiety. He nodded steadily, confirming her conjecture. “I had to,” he added wearily, his eyes searching Kate’s. Why was it that she could be so understanding, even in the face of his own deception? And he HAD deceived her, whether intentionally or not – he just hoped she would continue to be so understanding when she found out just how much he really knew about Aimes and Gemmel.
“I can’t leave Los Angeles,” said Kate finally, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had stretched between them. Jack’s head snapped in her direction but Kate wouldn’t allow him to protest at her decision. “I know what you’re going to say but it won’t make any difference. I’ve tried running away in the past and it doesn’t work. The last time I left my home, my friends, fled halfway across the world and it didn’t make one iota of difference. At least here in LA I have my friends, if something is coming that might threaten myself or my family then the White Hats will be here to help protect us, help us defeat it, like they’ve done in the past.”
Kate couldn’t help but remember what it had been like when she’d first arrived in this city, she’d been so alone and afraid. Then she’d met Natasha, Victor, Jade, Sorrow… people that had become such good friends to her, people who had saved her from Serapis and his crazed band of acolytes. Without their bravery, their courage in the face of evil… she shuddered to think of what her fate might have been. Besides, Kate had already mentioned the entire event with Orin Trask at the last White Hat meeting – rousing more than a few concerned glances, especially from Tash and Daye. But despite that she knew that they would rise to her defence no matter what or who challenged her in the future.
“Los Angeles is my home,” she added defensively, trying to convince Jack of her decision, “I won’t let my family be driven from it by anyone.” At the desperate expression on his face she pressed his hands into her own. “Don’t you see? Running away might be exactly what… whoever this is, wants me to do, separating me from my friends will make me an easier target. Besides,” she gestured towards the stroller where Emma had fallen asleep, “how can I go on the run with her? She’s just a child.”
Jack closed his eyes in desperation. It was a hopeless situation, that fact was undoubtedly one that The Ministry was working to their advantage – they always knew what was going to happen, well as far in advance as any Seer or Mage in their employment could interpret. He hoped that Kate was right, that her friends would be there to stop any conceived attack though he seriously doubted it. He had observed the group carefully over the past two months, they were for the most part an incredibly talented and diverse collection of individuals. But they all seemed to have their own problems, things that diverted their attention away from the common goal. When The Ministry made their move they would never see it coming.
Kate searched Jack’s silent expression, he looked unconvinced despite her assurances. She sighed deeply, “I shall just have to be ready then, won’t I?” she said boldly, feeling an inner strength rise up through her, so powerful that she could almost believe in the validity of her conviction. In fact she was angry, angry at Jack that he knew something he wouldn’t - couldn’t - speak about, angry at this… whoever it was who was once again threatening everything that she had fought to build up. Threatening herself, her family… it was more than she could suffer a second time. If it meant that she had to fight again to protect it then so be it.
She rose to her feet and resumed their walking, pushing Emma along in the stroller. Jack joined her, taking her hand in his as they walked. He nodded at her, a look of pride washing over his face. He knew she couldn’t truly comprehend what sort of force she would be standing up to or she would never appear so confident. Still, he had to admire her courage and strength, she had already faced many foes, fought many battles and here she was, readying herself for yet another. That took real nerve.
“I’ll be here Kate,” he said finally, giving her hand a squeeze, “no matter what happens.”