*** March 1, 2007, around 2 am ***
*** Isla Nublada ***
Daye stood on the deck and gazed down at the dark blue waters below. She listened to the hushed conversation behind her between Inés and her boyfriend, Connor. Further back, near the rear of the boat, the mysterious man who’d contacted them and started them on this road stood, staring into the water as well. Daye wondered again just who exactly Ellis Longwood was, and why he had gotten involved in this. Daye thought about how hectic the last week had been after Inés contacted Alessa’s mind, and Ellis gave them the final link to the Council. That was what had brought them here in the first place, and with any luck this would be the last leg of their long journey.
Daye scanned the island that they were approaching, the boat enshrouded in mists. She shivered, quickly zipping up the light jacket she was wearing. It was cold and wet here on the water, and the island didn’t appear to be any more inviting.
“Alessa, if you’re out there,” Daye whispered into the wind, “just hold on. We’re coming for you.”
Inés was listening distractedly to Connor beside her; she wasn’t really paying attention to him. Her thoughts were recounting all that had happened in the last two days. From the moment Daye, Ellis and her had put two and two together and discovered where Alessa had been taken, everything had happened in a rush. Ellis had almost taken over the whole operation, hiring a plane and then this boat to take them to the island where she was sure Alessa was being held captive. He knew people in Colombia, he had said, and right now he was proving he did.
She leaned on Connor and wondered again at his reasons for helping too, but she was really grateful to him for offering his help as soon as he knew of Alessa’s kidnapping. His temper had clashed several times with Alessa’s friend, Ellis, but he was holding his own, and risking much. A jungle was no place for a vampire if day caught them ashore.
The sight in front of her was strangely familiar, although it felt as if she were seeing it from above, probably from a plane. She knew this image wasn’t hers, it was Alessa’s and it was so full of dread that Inés gritted her teeth. Since the moment she had first got in touch with her cousin the images she received kept becoming more blurry and distressful, a jungle and fear was all she could feel at the moment. The quality of her thoughts was deteriorating in a worrisome pace.
She shivered, not only from the cold, and she was grateful to feel Connor’s strong arm go around her shoulders. She gave another look at the misty island that was slowly getting nearer and nearer. She sighed; she just hoped they got to Alessa in time.
Ellis heard the demoness sigh and frowned. He was worried too. His associates in Colombia had sounded terribly scared at the sole mention of Isla Nublada. That was exactly the kind of stuff that enraged him, peaceful demons being terrified by humans. For some time he had received vague reports of experimentation linked to the Council; many demons had apparently been taken to a research facility of some kind in South America not to be seen again. But he hadn’t been able to discover where the facility was situated nor exactly what kind of ‘things’ were done in it.
However it wasn’t until he had talked to Danny and confirmed that Alessa had been taken by the Council and her cousin had called telling him that she knew Alessa was in Colombia, that he had made the link between Alessa and the research facility. His hand closed in a tight fist at the thought of her in that island.
Daye turned towards the others as the boat bumped against the shore. A small stretch of beach extended out from the edge of the jungle, and that was where their guide had brought them. From what Ellis had said, the man was very nervous about coming to Isla Nublada, but he couldn't resist the ridiculous amount of money Daye had offered.
Whatever had happened to Alessa, she knew that once again the Council was somehow involved and even though it didn't make any logical sense, she felt responsible. She just hoped that Alessa was going to be all right, and that whatever research was going on here was not as horrible as she was beginning to suspect.
“Well, we had better start looking," Daye said to Inés. "If we can find her before the sun comes up, that would probably be for the best. We don't know what kind of monitoring they have set up here. I'd rather get Alessa and just get out.”
“Yes, we'd better,” said Ellis and turned to look at Connor.
The vampire raised an eyebrow but understood the look quite well. This man knew about his nature, and for some reason hadn’t reacted to it. He turned to help Inés out of the boat, but smiled when he saw her jump lithely from the deck. Inés looked at home in this tropical setting.
The demoness walked a few steps towards the jungle and stood motionless for a moment, as if listening, but the rest knew she was trying to catch any hint of Alessa’s scent. She turned to them after a couple of minutes.
“I can't smell her, but Ellis said Alessa would be near a brook or stream, and I can smell water. Let’s follow that trail,” she said and started to walk towards the jungle line, the rest following right behind her.
Ellis nodded. He had received that inside information the night they were leaving for Colombia. He just hoped Alessa hadn’t done something stupid just when they were coming to get her. He turned to signal the guide to wait for them with the boat ready and then walked behind them.
James followed soon after Inés. He was carrying enough ammo to kill a hundred Watchers. He was angered because of what happened to Alessa and besides, he was warming towards Inés and he wanted to help her. It gave him a reason to function. As they got to the jungle, James hung his rifle from his side and took out a big machete to open a way through the thick bush, behind Inés. Somehow the demoness seemed to glide along the greenery, and did not need a path.
"Jungle imp," he said to himself but caught her smiling at him over her shoulder.
"You can’t imagine how much," she said, laughing, and changed before his eyes. The hairy, brown creature was much more secure and able in the tropical jungle.
Daye followed Inés and the others, feeling more than a little apprehensive. This island was shrouded in more than just natural mists. She could feel the prickle of strong magic on her skin, and she detected great suffering. Daye was not as sensitive as Kate, so she knew whatever was happening here was very, very bad. She shivered as they entered the dark, forbidding jungle, concentrating. She might need her magic at a moment's notice, and she wanted to make sure she wasn't slow on the uptake.
Daye walked with Ellis, her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. She desperately wanted to cast a spell to create some light, but knew that would be foolish. Instead, she stayed close to Ellis.
"Sorry if I seem a bit forward," Daye whispered, huddling near him, "but I'm a bit... well, to quote the Americans, freaked out. This place is really creepy."
Ellis turned his eyes from the demoness figure, and smiled at the Watcher.
“No problem,” he said, adjusting his pace to hers. “I agree with you. There’s something evil in this island, even I can feel it.” He looked around, he wasn’t carrying a rifle like Connor, but his gun was secure under his arm, unlocked and ready. “And we should be prepared…” he stopped at Daye’s stare, “for anything that may happen.”
Daye understood. She didn’t say anything more until they came to the river. Inés stopped there and bent low to the ground, apparently trying to scent out Alessa.
The Verbati squatted near a tree with large plank buttress roots. The mattress of dead leaves, insects and dust, so natural to all jungles, was unnaturally matted and trampled, as if somebody or something had slept there and she could smell Alessa’s scent. It was faint, very faint, but it was hers. Inés’ heart skipped a beat; finally, proof of Alessa being in the damn island.
Then she frowned. She sensed another smell as well, some kind of animal, probably a big mammal, mingled with Alessa’s scent. She stood up and moved towards the source of the smell, up in the trees. With a mighty jump she reached the lower branches of the giant tree, clawing her way securely up she got to the core of the tree. There the smell of Alessa was stronger, but so was the smell of the animal. She looked around trying to focus on the smells, her huge paws touching and feeling the tree’s branches, finally finding what she was looking for. In her hand was a tuft of hair, the cinnamon color of Alessa’s Verbati fur.
Inés jumped down then, resuming her human form before touching the ground with the grace of a big cat.
“She was here,” she said. “But so was a big mammal, probably some kind of cat. Follow me,” she said and started to move again.
As she walked she tried to reconstruct Alessa’s steps. Suddenly they walked into a small clearing among the trees. Inés walked surely following her cousin’s scent. A few feet away she found the spotted carcass of a jaguar; she squatted again next to it and touched it with a stick. It wasn’t stiff yet.
She looked up to the others and smiled broadly. “This explains the fight traces I found. She killed it.” Then she looked at the dead cat again. “Bien hecho, chica.”
“And it sm- looks fresh too,” added James, cursing from almost giving himself away; although the man already knew he was a vampire he didn’t want to alert the Watcher about it. “She can't be too far. Let’s go on.”
He watched their surroundings carefully; the full moonlight giving enough light to see around, but not enough to be too clear. The clearing finished a hundred feet away and the thick bush started again. Strange sounds and odors were coming from it.
James remembered his times in the Royal Army. He had been in jungles before, as a soldier, Africa, India… you name it, every major British Colony, and he could move in a jungle too. He looked at the back of Inés, already starting to cross the empty spot, and smiled… Well, not as well as she did, but he could manage himself quite expertly. He gripped the machete again and prepared to continue cutting their path into it.
Inés hurried her step, she felt the scent get stronger and stronger, and they were close. She was nearly running, gliding and moving with expertise through the undergrowth of the jungle. She was talking as she moved.
“She’s hurt, the cat… the cat hurt her. I can smell her blood; it’s a richer trail, her blood.”
Ellis gritted his teeth as he started to follow the pair in front of them, taking Daye’s elbow when the woman staggered with a raised root. More and more worried, as he heard Inés talking absently to herself. He couldn’t imagine the ordeal Alessa had had to go through in this forlorn island, hurt and alone, not knowing if she would ever make it. Wondering if… Chance… would get to her. He cursed, such timing!
They entered the jungle and were enveloped by its green darkness again. The humans could barely see the path Connor was making, but the swoosh of his machete cutting left and right was clear enough to follow.
“Wow!” came Inés’ startled cry from the front and he ran to join the two, almost collapsing into the vampire who extended an arm backwards to stop them. He steadied himself and looked down.
They were standing on a ledge, the trees growing just to the border, its roots protruding from it like dark hands off a tomb. There was a long drop down to yet another ledge and then, far below to a stream that glittered silver in the moonlight. Inés was looking down, her face the picture of dismay.
“She’s down there,” she whispered. “She must have fallen.”
James’ arms enveloped her. “Don’t lose hope, Alessa is a tough woman.” He turned to Daye and Ellis. “Care to do a little alpinism?”
“You go on, we’ll follow. This can't be worse than climbing Mount Blanc,” answered Ellis, eyeing the pronounced drop.
James smirked and started to follow Inés who had already started to half slide, half jump down the slope, using rocks and roots as help. When they finally got to the bottom, Inés looked around again and a small cry she run towards a dark figure crumpled on the ground. It was Alessa.
The demoness was in her natural form, and looked battered, but they couldn’t see how much until they got to her. Her cinnamon fur was tangled and dirty, dried blood matted the fur of her left leg and Daye saw with horror that it was terribly jagged, as if she had been bitten by a huge sharp-toothed mouth. She also bore several cuts and bites, probably the result of her fight with the big cat.
“Oh, Alessa, ¿qué te pasó prima? What happened to you?” whispered Inés, kneeling beside her and taking the demoness’ head gently in her hands. Inés felt her eyes fill with tears watching the sorrowful state of her cousin. She looked up to see Daye in a state of distress similar to her own. The Watcher was on her knees too, and was moving her hands over Alessa’s body, a look of concentration in her face.
“She’s alive,” she finally said, “Barely. I can help her, heal her, but not here. I don’t dare to do magic here.” Daye looked around, as if expecting fiends to materialize around them any minute. She was sure there were magical wards on the island; any magic she could perform would be surely spotted.
“Let’s go. The sooner we get her to the boat the sooner you can start the mending magic,” said Ellis, then he looked down at Alessa again, doubt in his eyes. The demoness looked too heavy to carry easily, they should try to make some kind of… he was surprised when Inés, changing again into her Verbati form, lifted the big creature with ease. He grinned. *Never underestimate a good demon.*
The party slowly climbed up the ledge again, but once they did the rest of the way was uneventful and easier than before. Following Inés’ sense of direction they moved steadily towards the shore where the boat was waiting for them. A couple of hours later they were sailing off the shore and leaving Isla Nublada behind; starkly delineated against the full-moon sky.
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Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
1318 Poplar Avenue
March 1st, 2007 - 5:30 PM
His knuckles hurt, but he did not stop. Over and over his fists would fly forward, banging painfully into the coarse punching bag. Would it take away his pain, his sadness, his regret? Probably not.
*I could have done more, I should have done more,* Darian thought as he punched his inanimate opponent even harder, causing dust to tumble from where the bag was attached to the roof. *Alessa, Cole, the White Hats… I let them all down; it shouldn’t have ended like that. He should still be here.* Sweat started to drip off of the man’s concentrated brow. Faster, faster, faster, his arms smashed into the bag with inhuman speed and force.
“Fuck!” As if the cry of frustration had sapped the strength from his body, Darian halted the workout and slouched, defeated, on the bag for support.
Reah leant against the doorway entrance of the training room, eyebrows raised at the fae’s ‘power’ show. She’d entered the training room some while ago to do some training herself, but instead, finding Darian as she had, she decided to hold back a minute and let him vent in peace.
He’d finally stopped, exhausted against that bag - of which Reah had to admire the job of whoever had fixed it to the roof! - but he had yet to notice her watchful presence.
“Well… thank god I can still use the bag,” Reah said in a heartening tone as she casually strolled into the room completely, leaving her bag by the door, “You had me worried there for a sec!”
Calmly, Reah approached the fae and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, his back still to her as she addressed him, “Don’t blame yourself, Darian.”
“What, uhh no, I…” he tried to pretend he didn’t understand, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. “I just wish I could go back, do things differently, who knows, maybe -”
“Look, shut up,” the bold Aussie interrupted. “Listen to me. You can’t go back, and you can’t do things differently: believe me, I know! Chance did what he had to do, and even if you did do something another way, he wouldn’t have let you stop him.”
Darian was going to say something in response, but Reah spoke first. “Spar with me!”
“Spar with you?” the fae reiterated taken aback by the sudden change of topic.
“Yes, spar. Unless of course you’re too scared I’ll kick your sorry ass,” she joked as she took a playful jab at his face.
“If you insist,” was all Darian said. He didn’t need to say anything more. This was Reah’s unique way of being comforting, and his eyes voiced the thanks his lips did not utter.
***
Tentatively, Quin knocked on Darian and Cole’s apartment door.
There was no answer.
Quin tried to focus, see if she could feel anything. Once again, however, there was nothing. Ever since Cole had stopped practicing, she hadn’t been able to sense him like she had when she first laid eyes on him.
Feeling defeated and helpless, she lowered her head and suddenly found herself staring blankly at the door knob. After a moment, she eventually decided to raise her hand to test it…
Gradually, the door opened inward to Quin’s gentle push, admitting her into the room. She felt kind of weird and intrusive; she wasn’t really much the type to just enter as they pleased. Even when she was back at home in Melbourne she’d been uncomfortable about entering Trent’s home without an invitation at the door, when she had been openly welcomed into their family by his parents!
Yet here she was.
“Cole?” Quin called out softly as she made her careful way in, directly towards his room. “A-are you there?” she was about to push inward on his closed bedroom door, then refrained, knocking softly instead.
“Come in,” said a weak voice from inside.
The image on the other side of the door matched the defeated voice that had called out. Cole sat on his bed, like he did so much recently, his knees brought up close to his chest, his once bright blue eyes now dully staring outside the window.
***
Reah ducked under Darien’s blow and skipped to the side without much effort. He wasn’t trying, and it was really beginning to piss her off: he was as sloppy as a kangaroo on Dramamine!
*That’s it.* Twirling to the side, Reah pivoted around Darian’s next attack and deftly slid under his guard, kicking his legs out beneath him and landing him hard on the ground with a heavy ‘thud’!
Standing over him, Reah tilted her head sympathetically, then sneered and offered him a hand. “C’mon, who do you think you’re going to hurt? Kick my ass! No wait. Sorry, I forgot. You live in a ‘fairy land’, don’t you? Where the good are righteous and live long happy lives, while the bad are condemned and burn in hell!” Reah sniffed with a cynical smirk, “You’re a good guy. You can’t hurt me!”
Some might have commented that her tone was harsh and uncalled for, but as far as she was concerned, letting him sit around and wallow in self pity was only going to land him up shit creek like she’d let herself not too long ago.
“Now fight!”
***
Quin waited for Cole to say something, but he never did. He barely even moved his eyes to acknowledge her presence. Normally, one would take offence by such a lack of manners, but she understood what he was going through. Chance had been the closest thing the boy had to family, and like everyone else he had in his young life, he managed to disappear.
“Cole I…” Quin stumbled with her words, standing awkwardly and stiffly just inside the doorway of his room. It was hard. Losing people. She doubted her words would be able to provide much comfort. She doubted she could provide anything at all. She wasn’t really good for much except running away when things got too hard. The only real reason Reah had taken her in was because she had to. She was blood.
“I’m sorry.”
***
The fae’s blood started pumping faster. Reah’s tactics were working; Darian’s mind was focusing on the ‘now’.
“I’m not going to give you that opportunity again,” he said, as he jumped to his feet, then immediately fell back into a crouch to avoid a vicious right hook. Her attack continued, but Darian was now in the game.
Reah faked another hook, and instead went for a jab, but to her utter surprise, Darian caught the punch in his powerful hand. “Never say can’t,” he smirked as he tugged her closer, and with the momentum, flipped the woman on her back.
Coughing as the wind was knocked clear out of her, Reah grinned deviously to herself, then smiled cunningly back at Darian. “Hm… Was it you who taught that one to Damen?”
“What?”
Reah took the distraction and flipped her legs around, kicking out and snapping Darian cleanly across the jaw as she followed through onto her feet. “Heh, you merely tripped me, mate. Gonna have to try harder than that!” she dared him to try again, poised at the ready as she awaited his next attack.
***
Finally, her words seem to hit their mark. Cole turned his gaze slowly from the window onto Quin’s soft features. A month ago, he probably would have smiled timidly; he always did when Quin had come over to hang out. But now, no smile. His young face was blank, seemingly devoid of emotion. Quin knew that face well; it was a mask she often donned.
“It’s not fair you know,” he said quietly. “Things like that aren’t supposed to happen to good people.”
“I know,” Quin sighed, averting her own sad eyes before lifting them back to his, offering a soft smile for comfort.
She picked her way slowly across the room and lowered herself gently onto his bed. Sitting a metre apart from him, she uneasily smoothed out her skirts. “But you know? Not… not all good people go away! Lots of them live long and happy lives, dying in their sleep next to their life partner at the age of 91.”
She sighed, the slightest hint of a smile pulling at her lips, “At least, that’s what I like to think.” She laughed nervously, her face blushing with embarrassment - she must sound so stupid. “Helps me sleep at night, sometimes.”
“Well why, why couldn’t he be one of them? After everything he did for this world, fate couldn’t have given him something better?” he trailed off, turning his stare to the floor.
***
“Bloody hell mate, you faeries sure move quickly,” Reah commented, rubbing her sore shoulder, as Darian tossed her a towel to wipe the sweat from her tired body.
“Yeah well, if I moved any slower, I’d probably be in a hospital now,” he commented back, as his hand subconsciously stroked his aching chin. *Note to self: don’t ever let Reah kick you in the face again.*
“Well Darian, I’m off to hit the shower, so I'll catch you around, ok?” Reah said, as she packed her towel and headed for the stairs.
“Yeah, a shower sounds really nice right about now,” he replied as he moved to let her pass. “You know, the two of us should go hunting together one day.”
“Woe be the vamps that we would stumble upon, eh? If ever you want to hit the town, you know where I live,” Reah said.
“And Reah! Thanks for everything.”
“Don’t mention it,” she winked before heading down the stairs.
***
The two sat in silence for several minutes, an uncomfortable feeling lingering anxiously in the air.
“Thanks Quin,” Cole finally whispered, dispelling the quiet. The girl looked over into her friend’s eyes. There was something in the blue orbs that called out to her. There was a longing there, a longing to be comforted, to be told everything would be ok.
Quin couldn’t help but feel sucked in by those glistening azure pools, and suddenly found herself drawing closer.
Or was he to her?
It didn’t matter, eventually. The air was stolen away from her and in the briefest of moments… all thought had stopped and all that remained was the moment. Calm…
They were one.
Suddenly Quin ripped away, eyes wide and lips parted in shock. What was she doing?
She didn’t even stay long enough to register the look on Cole’s face before she darted so quickly from the room and apartment that one had to wonder if she was ever even there in the first place.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 1 March 2007 - 7:13am
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Tiny fingers reached out, stretching, twisting. White as porcelain and cold too, like marble. There was great darkness in which only two piercing blue eyes could be seen. They searched the darkness, pupils wide and dilated, almost corpse-like. So much darkness with one single sound, it wasn’t laughter or tears or hushed talking – just a slow and steady breathing. The curve of a soft pink cheek cut against the black, an arc of light spinning upwards, upwards, upwards, spinning so fast it obliterated everything else and so bright, full of life, full of joy, twisting, stretching, reaching. Forever onward, forever upward, never looking back. Then, silence.
Kate opened her eyes tiredly, drawing back from her dream with an anxious moan. It wasn’t the dream that had disturbed her; as strange as it had seemed she was left with an almost serene feeling in the pit of her stomach. Like eating a bowl full of ice cream on a hot summer day. No, it was something else. A sense of shock and surprise, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important that she had to do and it was now too late.
The feeling soon faded as she came more to her senses, perceiving the brilliant sunshine which streamed in through the light curtains. She stretched out her arms languidly, yawning a little as she rolled over to where Galen lay, still sleeping soundly. She sighed contentedly as she moulded her body around his, luxuriating in his tired warmth and running her hands over his bare chest. They had been trying again, most of the night in fact after putting Emma to bed. She still felt bathed in the afterglow of their tireless lovemaking, lost in those feelings of supreme satisfaction and love.
She continued to stroke his bare skin, letting her hands trace the familiar contours and planes of his well-defined body. Sometimes she could just live here, wrapped up in their combined warmth… she rolled her hand further down Galen’s chest, her arms curving around his body to follow the path down to his stomach.
Galen moaned softly as he awoke to Kate’s intimate touch. He rolled over on to his back, smiling at her as she leaned down and began to trail warm, exploring kisses across his naked flesh.
“Ooohhh, honey…” he sighed, running his fingers through her long hair as she continued her skilled ministrations. “You sure know how to give a guy a wake up call…”
Kate laughed playfully as she carried on with her gentle caresses. Several minutes later Galen was putty in her hands and she worked her way, trailing kisses back up his body until she reached his lips.
“Hmmm,” he moaned in appreciation, his tongue and lips exploring those of his wife with equal enthusiasm.
He knew it was probably just a ploy, something to take her mind off the events of the past two weeks. Though Kate vehemently denied it, the encounter with Orin Trask and the other, as of yet unknown, individuals had really shaken her - not to mention hearing from Darian at the last White Hat meeting about Chance’s death. Kate had shown him the letter he’d given her, asking for her to kill him should Dray’chen ever become a threat again. Now that decision had been taken out of her hands and in a small way Kate couldn’t help but feel glad, glad that she didn’t have to witness the death of yet another of her friends.
For days she’d done little more than train, it didn’t matter what, combat, magic or study - she’d propelled herself into each with similar vigour. Galen had been worried at first, afraid that she was pushing herself too hard, but the last two days she had relaxed some, returning more to her ‘normal’ self.
He wrapped his arms around her, rolling her over in the bed so that she was beneath him. Kate giggled as Galen stretched against her, running his hands across her body, feeling the warm softness of her curves beneath the silky fabric of her slip. “I have an hour before I need to get ready for work…” he whispered softly against her mouth, ending his statement with several warm kisses. He stretched against her again, smiling when he heard her quietly gasp and moan as his body rubbed against her own.
“I love you,” she said suddenly, smiling at the surprised look on Galen’s face.
“Where did that come from?” he asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Not that I mind hearing it of course…”
“No reason,” Kate said with another light smile, “I just… don’t feel like I tell you enough… and I do… love you, so very much.”
Galen nodded knowingly, leaning in close again and kissing her mouth. “I know,” he whispered breathlessly, “I love you too…”
The couple held one another close as they resumed their lovemaking. It was such a perfect morning they could almost forget the outside world and all its problems. There would always be another dire emergency but right now being together made all the pain and fighting worthwhile.
Kate looked up suddenly as the anxious cries came over the baby monitor. As much as she was caught up in the moment with Galen a part of her was always alert to the needs of her daughter. Emma’s crying sounded louder as she continued to wail, and Galen also broke off his desirous kisses as the child’s cries became more needy. They both seemed to wait for a moment, hoping that she would just settle down again. However, when it was obvious that she wasn’t going to Kate sat up, kissing Galen with lustful promise.
“I’d better go see how she is…” she said regretfully, straightening out her slip and grabbing her robe as she headed towards the door.
Galen just sat on the bed, wrapped in a tangle of crisp white sheets while watching his wife with barely restrained desire. Emma had been a little grizzly of late, crying more often than usual and refusing to feed properly and he knew Kate was concerned despite their GP’s reassurances that it was just teething. He sighed, relaxing in the warm bed as Kate slipped from the room on her way to the nursery. The last couple of days had been wonderful together as the events of the previous month had faded a little from memory. It was always like that, had to be, because if they let every little thing prey on their minds they’d go mad. Somewhere in the past week they’d regained their stride, seeking the comfort and reassurance they needed in one another. Galen stretched again, glancing at the bedside clock; it was still early.
Kate entered the nursery, greeted by Emma’s cries which sounded louder than ever. She walked over to the crib and leaned inside to lift Emma into her arms. “Oh sweetie it’s okay, mommy’s here,” she said soothingly, rubbing the child’s back in comforting circles as she slowly paced the room in an effort to pacify her. Emma continued to cry, her face scrunched up as she wailed. Kate sat down in the chair, and held Emma gently in her arms, still rubbing her back.
“What is it, huh baby?” she asked softly. It wasn’t like her to cry for no reason. Normally when she was just lonesome she stopped as soon as Galen, Jack or herself picked her up. Still she hadn’t been herself the past few days; Kate had spent much more time than usual nursing the little girl and trying to tempt her to eat a little more. It was getting to the stage where she couldn’t help but worry. She didn’t care if she was over-protective. Emma was her world, if anything happened to her she’d never forgive herself for not acting sooner.
“You don’t need changing Em,” Kate said to the little one, rocking her gently against her shoulder in an effort to calm her down. Emma meanwhile continued to bawl, turning an even deeper shade of red as she screeched and wailed inconsolably.
“Oh please stop crying!” Kate pleaded gently, rising to her feet again and resuming her slow pacing. Suddenly Galen entered the room, looking suitably dishevelled if not a tad worried.
“What’s going on?” he asked, perhaps a little too harshly but he was also unused to hearing Emma crying so irritably after she was nursed for a while. “What’s the matter, huh?” he said gently, lifting the baby out of Kate’s arms and into his own, hoping it was just a case of the little girl needing her papa.
Kate watched with a certain amount of distress as Galen also failed to console their daughter. Galen walked up and down the room with her in much the same way Kate had, rubbing her back soothingly and talking to her, but with no success. “Maybe she’s just hungry,” suggested Galen as he handed her back to Kate uselessly. “Plus, you know what Dr Kingston said, she’s probably just teething.”
“Hmmm,” Kate murmured, uncertain and definitely not convinced by Galen’s assumptions. She held Emma out in her arms to get a better look at her. The little girl wailed uncontrollably, arching her back as though just being held was causing her more distress. Kate frowned in concern, running her hand over Emma’s forehead. “Oh god Galen, feel her, she’s burning up!”
Galen leaned in, his own hand replacing Kate’s against the baby’s forehead. His face screwed up in concern, “She certainly feels warm… perhaps…”
“I’m going to call Dr Kingston,” Kate announced with an air of finality, handing Emma over to Galen as she went to get the telephone.
“But Kate! It’s only 7:30… He won’t be at the surgery for at least another two hours…”
“I don’t care,” said Kate harshly as she returned and began dialling. “Emma’s ill and he’s going to see her,” as she punched in the numbers she could feel her own anger rising, “Just try and let him say it’s teething this time!”
Diagnosis Critical
Thursday, 1 March 2007 - 3:44pm
Los Angeles County Hospital – Intensive Care Paediatric Unit
“Dr Channing to ICU… Dr Channing to ICU.”
The hospital buzzed with activity. Phones rang almost constantly and people ran back and forth down the busy corridors. A young intern, hearing her name over the PA system, grabbed her pager and made a dash for the nearest set of elevators, narrowly avoiding a porter who was pushing an elderly lady in a wheelchair between the buildings on his way to Geriatrics.
In the midst of all this confusion Kate and Galen sat waiting.
Dr Kingston had made a house call earlier that morning and had been concerned enough about Emma’s condition to make arrangements for an ambulance to take them to Los Angeles County Hospital. That had been at 8:30am. At 10:12am Emma had been admitted to the Intensive Care Paediatric Unit and refereed to the care of resident consultant Dr Gregory Greenblatt. Several hours and many blood tests later they were still no nearer to finding out the cause of Emma’s sudden illness.
Kate had sat with her alone for the first few hours as the tests were being conducted while Galen informed his chief at the LAPD that he wouldn’t be in at work. Watching her daughter being passed from one person to the next, her blood being taken on an almost half-hourly basis not to mention all the other examinations that had been undertaken, it was the worst feeling in the world. Now they were both subjected to this insufferable waiting, always waiting…
Galen sat silently; watching Kate as she steadily paced the short area of corridor, the noise of her shoes on the hard tiled floor sounded loud but was almost drowned out in the vociferous chaos that surrounded them.
“How did you know?” he asked, trying to hold back the accusational tone of his question. At Kate’s confused glance he carried on, “Back home, I mean, you seemed to know it was more serious than… Well, you just seemed to know something was really wrong. How did you know?”
Kate bit the side of her thumb anxiously, shaking her head. “I didn’t,” she admitted, shaking her head. “My own daughter was sick and I didn’t know, I didn’t even notice!”
Galen turned away, looking, for what must have been the hundredth time in the past hour, at the clock positioned high on the wall. The minute hand jerked forward with painful slowness, punctuating every agonising moment. The same sense of guilt was eating him up inside that while they had been happy, making love and thinking about the future, Emma had been in pain. He held his head in his hands in an attempt to block those thoughts from his mind. At least Kate had made the call to Dr Kingston, had insisted that he come see them despite all his protests. What had he done?
“Mr and Mrs Eldridge?”
Galen looked up and Kate halted her pacing as the elderly physician approached them. He looked about forty years of age, with a mane of neatly trimmed silver hair and dull green eyes. His white coat hung smartly on his narrow shoulders, crisp and new looking.
“My name is Dr Greenblatt I’m the resident paediatric consultant I’ll be in charge of your daughter’s treatment here at County Hospital. If you’d like to follow me into my office?”
Doctor Greenblatt’s office was a haven of classically dark mahogany furniture and deep emerald paintwork. Shelves of old medical journals attractively bound in burgundy leather lined the walls, as did various antique anatomical charts – enclosed behind glass and hung in a fashion that made them appear more like works of art than reference material.
Kate and Galen stood on one side of the huge desk. Everything was neatly arranged from the pot of evenly sharpened pencils to the perpendicular stacks of paper. It was probably a comfort to relations as much as anything, to know that such an organised and disciplined man was in charge of treating their loved ones.
Dr Greenblatt lifted up his white coat as he reclined into his chair on the other side of the desk, gesturing for the couple to sit. “You’re both probably very anxious to know about Emma,” the man began, his focus moving from each parent intermittently. “I can tell you that her condition at the moment is stable, she’s been taken to the ICU where she’ll be monitored closely for the next 24 hours.”
Kate’s hand tightened around Galen’s nervously at the doctor’s words and she glanced at him momentarily as they waited to hear more.
“At the moment we’re running several tests to determine exactly what is wrong with your daughter.” Dr Greenblatt picked up a file and flicked through it, “Her symptoms are quite diverse. Fever, lethargy, lack of appetite… at a cursory glance her blood count appears to be a little low suggesting slight anaemia…” He glanced up at the worried glances on the faces of the couple sat opposite him and deftly closed the file. “Like I said, we’ll know more when the test results get back. I’m pushing them through as an emergency, it shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
Kate cast a questioning glance at Galen before turning her frustration and anxiety back to Dr Greenblatt. “So you don’t know what’s wrong with her?”
The doctor smiled uneasily, “That’s not what I said. There could be any number of things wrong but I’d rather not speculate at this time.”
“Well I’d rather you did!” said Kate impatiently, feeling Galen’s hand tighten around her own as if to try to calm her down. She just felt so annoyed! Surely it was better to have some idea what was going on than to be left in the dark?
“It could be any number of things,” repeated the doctor defensively. He could feel the woman’s pain, she was a mother after all, he just didn’t want to upset her unduly. “Meningitis is something we have to consider and I’ve already started Emma on a treatment of antibiotics that should help bring her temperature down just in case.”
“Meningitis?” Kate echoed, feeling a bit weak inside, “But that’s serious isn’t it? I mean… children get really ill from it.”
“That’s just one possibility,” Dr Greenblatt interjected quickly, “It could just as easily be something else; influenza… a bad viral infection. I don’t want to lie to you, Emma is quite ill. She may have to stay here in hospital for a few days, just so we can keep an eye on her, but there is every chance that she’ll be just fine.”
Kate frowned for a moment, trying to process what the doctor was telling them, “So… she’s going to be okay?”
Dr Greenblatt’s eyes crinkled a little, “Well… we’ll know more when we get the test results back.”
Galen and Kate exchanged alarmed glances; the doctor’s tone was evasive, obviously not wanting to worry them unduly but at the same time… Kate felt her grip on Galen’s hand grow tighter in anxiety. She could feel, almost hear the doctor’s concerns, his doubts. Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she asked the next question, part of her not wanting to know the answer. “How serious is this?”
Dr Greenblatt sighed deeply, it wasn’t a good start for either of them and he immediately regretted it. “Emma is… a very young child. Babies of her age have yet to develop a full immunity to various illnesses and diseases… I don’t want to alarm you any more than I have to, like I said, this could just be a viral infection but-” he stopped suddenly, it was always difficult delivering news of this kind. “I believe that the onset and rapid decline of Emma’s health over the past five hours point towards something more serious. Until we know more I would advise you to stay here at the hospital, just in case.”
Kate gasped out loud, feeling like the air had just been knocked from her lungs and she fought vainly to keep breathing. Her heart hurt it was beating so furiously inside her breast. She closed her eyes briefly, feeling dizzy and sick at the doctor’s words. It wasn’t until she felt Galen’s arm wrap around her shoulders comfortingly that she allowed herself to open her eyes again; it was like a bad dream. “This can’t be happening…” she said quietly, fighting to hold back her tears.
Dr Greenblatt looked a little abashed, and rose from his chair to the other side of the desk. “Please Mrs Eldridge…” he said softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, “I didn’t mean to alarm you, I only meant to prepare you for the worst. I have every confidence that Emma will make a full recovery.”
“Can we see her?” Galen held on to Kate’s hand tightly even though he knew he must be hurting her fingers, gripping them so hard.
The doctor nodded solemnly, “Of course, why don’t you follow me?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 1 March 2007 - 10:26pm
The rain fell hard on the cold, dark street. Blackthorn stood in the shelter of a large stone building. His meager bulk was lost in the immensity of the coal-stained structure, and he appeared as small as the water-spouts that sat atop the massive building.
Facing the wall of drizzle, Blackthorn's thoughts turned sour. Over the past months he had let Laplace seize most of the power from his pack. Before, it had been Berselius who had truly run the packs of the north, with the fool elder Christiansen sitting on his throne, dozing silently. Now it would be a demon that controlled not only ‘his people’ but all werewolf kind in the vast north of this continent.
The rain wasn't going to stop. That was becoming clear now. He'd have to walk through it to get anywhere. He shook his head, and stepped out into the torrent.
As the cold drops slid off his hair and down his forehead to his nose, Blackthorn formulated a plan of action. Obviously the first thing to do was become strong again. His current physical condition shouldn't stop him. It was time to build himself strong enough that his power would be obvious to the other lycanthropes. When he had built up his strength, then it would be time to find allies.
The Urn'etu’s long grey coat was slick with the rain now and his face was dripping, the water pouring off the end of his nose. Passing by a small music club he sidestepped in, out of the rain.
It was dark here. A few blue lights in the ceiling provided illumination for a single guitar player on stage and several people at a bar. The crudely painted sign above the bar proclaimed the name of this place to be "The Dive". Not a very appealing name, Blackthorn thought to himself, as he wandered further in.
The guitarist was playing a jazz/blues construction, with a slight Mexican flavor. The mix was a little odd, but satisfying. He leaned over to the mike occasionally to sing some words, but they were few and far between. The dim blue luminescence gave him the impression of an angel, caught somewhere between Heaven and Hell. A very strange situation.
Then, on the other side of the room, Blackthorn caught sight of a beautiful young woman. Her black hair glowed in the blue light, and her shadowed face was flawless. She was the one, the one who had drawn him to this place. The rain had dampened her scent but still it drew him here.
He didn't have to say anything. Looking over into her eyes, the
Urn'etu concentrated. Caught by the young werewolf’s presence, the woman slowly walked towards him. He decided to play with her a bit, allow her to feel in control.
The woman approached him then and slunk past him, rubbing her hand across his chest teasingly. She continued to walk, entering the ladies' restroom, giving him an inviting look before entering. Blackthorn smiled, and followed her in. His eyes squinted as he entered the brighter-lit bathroom. He was surprised at the (relatively) pleasant smell of the room - only an animal could withstand the odor of a gents' restroom.
The woman had backed up against the row of sinks, facing away from the mirror. Blackthorn approached her slowly, exuding what he was. He came close to her then, smelling her hair. As her head tilted sideways, he rubbed his nose upon her neck, and he heard the woman's heartbeat intensify.
The smell of her excited him, and he held onto this moment for a few seconds. It had been so long since he had been with one of his own kind. And now despite all the things he was taught it no longer mattered that she was an outcast. After all what was he?
There had always been something between them, but before he had pushed it to the back of his mind. But know he knew what it was, as all animals do.
As his lips now touched her neck it was agonizingly hard to pull away; her skin was rich and salty. They then looked at each other. No words were spoken but they both knew exactly what had brought him here. In spite of nature's urgings it was not the time to become better ‘acquainted’.
Blackthorn slowly exited the ladies' room, and headed toward the door. She followed him, and when they exited "The Dive", the rain had slowed to a drizzle. Right now he didn't mind the dampness. He could feel his strength increasing by simply having her with him.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 1st, 2007- Adriana and Dominika’s apartment- 3:30 pm***
Adriana pulled a long sleeved violet shirt over her head and adjusted it in the mirror. She always wanted to feel comfortable when going to work, but also wanted to look nice. Sighing, Drea walked out of her room to see Dominika sitting on the couch, Sashenka in her arms, watching the American soap opera General Hospital.
Dom groaned as she watched, commenting in Romani, “Ugh, Carly! You fucked up your life, again! I can’t wait for the day Jason doesn’t help you!”
Adriana hid her smile, which was caused from Dominika and Carly’s similarities. She walked over to her sister and plopped down next to her.
“In America, we speak English, Dom. No Romani,” Drea told her in English.
Dom narrowed her eyes and stuck her tongue out at her. Her attention then returned to the soap opera.
Just then, the phone began to ring. Adriana quickly picked it up and replied, “Hello?” From the other end, came the friendly and familiar voice,
“Adriana, hi.”
A smile went across her face. Sergei. It had been awhile. Hell, the last time she spoke with him was when they were in Romania. She brought her knees to her chest as she replied, “Sergei, how you doing? And Gwen, how is she?”
Dominika turned to Drea and mouthed, ‘Sergei?’ Adriana nodded her head, which led Dom to give a quick ‘thumbs up’ sign before she returned to her soap.
“We have some good, but shocking news,” he began.
Drea perked up, her interest greatly sparked. “Well, what is it?” she persisted. The sound of Sergei taking a deep breath was evident.
“Today, we just found that… that Gwen is pregnant!” he announced.
Adriana’s face lit up as she covered her mouth with her hand to prevent her from squealing with joy. “Oh, Sergei, that’s wonderful! Congratulations! How far along is she?” she said happily to him. Her brown eyes were now shining and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
Sergei chuckled through the phone and continued, “Thanks, Drea. Apparently, Gwen’s three months along now, and we just found out an hour ago!”
Adriana’s eyes widened, in which she remarked, “Wow, that must have been some honeymoon.”
Sergei laughed aloud at this. “You’re telling me…” he retorted.
Drea began laughing, causing Dominika to look at her. In a low voice, Dom asked, “Vat in t’e hell are you t’o talking about?”
Adriana mouthed the words ‘I’ll tell you in a minute’ back to her and focused her attention back to Sergei. “Oh my God, Serg, this is great! I’m really so happy for you two! Have you told Enzo and Lorraine yet?” she asked him.
“They were the first people I called. Lorraine’s ecstatic, and it caused Enzo to start dancing with her around the room! Gwen then called her parents. Her mother was crying with joy. She’s hoping for a girl, so she can make all these little dresses. Her father wants a boy, so he can take over their family business. Lorraine and Enzo have come to agree that they don’t care about the sex of the baby, as long as it’s a Catholic musician.
“Well, I better go. We still have a mountain of people to call!” Sergei explained when a voice in the background told him, “Ask her, ask her!” Adriana smiled. It was Gwen. Sergei chuckled.
“Adriana, we want to ask you something,” he began. After a moment of silence, Sergei continued, “Adriana, would you be the godmother of our child?”
Drea sat in utter shock. She began stuttering when she finally managed to say, “Oh, Sergei, I would love to be the godmother! I’m honored that you asked me.” Adriana could tell that Sergei was beaming.
“Thank you so much, Drea! But now, I really have to go. My line is beeping like crazy, and something is telling me that it’s Gwen’s mother,” he replied. Adriana laughed at this.
“Bye-bye, Sergei,” she said to him, at which he answered, “Good night, Drea.”
Adriana then hung up the phone. Dominika turned off the television set and turned to her sister.
“Vell?... Vat’s so exciting?” she asked impatiently. Drea smiled and then told her, “Gwen’s pregnant! They’re having a baby!”
Dom’s hand immediately went to her mouth and she questioned, “Omigod, is it Sergei’s child?”
Adriana’s smile dropped like an anvil and she gave her sister a nasty look. “Dominika!” she spat angrily.
Dom began laughing and replied, “I vas kidding! But seriously! Is t’e Gitano really having a baby?”
Drea nodded her head again and confirmed, “Yes! And I’m going to be a godmother!”
Dominika couldn’t help but squeal for joy at this point, causing Sashenka to begin barking. “I just realized! Ve can go baby clothes shopping!” she commented.
Adriana laughed and leaned back, looking at a picture of her, Dom, and Sergei from the wedding. They were in those light blue dresses, their hair pinned up and curled while Sergei was in a plain black tuxedo. It was a waist-up shot, giving a close up of their faces. Sergei stood in the middle of the trio, his arms were around the girls’ shoulders. They were all smiling under the California sun.
Drea smiled. Sergei was going to make a great father.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
1318 Poplar Ave - Reah’s Apartment
Friday the 2nd, March 2007
07:12am
“Mmrmph…” Reah moaned, kicking vainly at nothing as she subconsciously rolled onto her stomach, shivering as a cold chill shot down her spine, rousing her from a deep slumber to the crisp morning air that filled her lifeless room.
Freeing a hand from the weight of her body, Reah flailed about with her arm in search of the mysterious sheet that had managed to escape her sometime during the night, but only found herself patting the goose-bumping flesh of her own bare body. There was nothing worse, in her mind, than the half asleep, blind confusion she’d been exposed to of late in the mornings, when all she wanted was the simple, warm security of her comfy doona wrapped close about her.
Apparently, however, she was not allowed this simple pleasure. At least, not unless…
Some further investigation with her hand and she eventually found herself patting a large bulk behind her, tightly wound up in the sheets and doona she so dearly desired. Reah scrunched up her face with the effort it took, and the sheer frustration, of having to use some portion of thought and activity in order to get what she wanted as she curled her hand around an edge of the manchester until she had a firm grasp of the material.
‘SWOOSH’
‘THUD’
“FUcken!”
Reah allowed herself a slight smirk of satisfaction as she snuggly bundled herself up in her newly reclaimed sheets.
The mattress suddenly propped up beneath her as the other party rejoined the bed, slumping down behind her up turned back.
“Do you really have to do that?” Damen husked irritably just short of her shoulder. “The fucken joke’s gotten old already. K!”
“Stop hoarding all the bedding and you’ll stop waking up with your head slamming into the floor,” Reah replied tiredly, hugging the bedding tighter when she felt Damen’s futile attempt to try and reclaim some back by pulling at the firmly wound cocoon.
Reah grinned when he gave up, pressing his head miserably into her cushioned shoulder while his hand still gripped at the unyielding bulk. “Shit, Reah! I’m freezing my fucking balls off here!”
“Good for you,” Reah muttered contentedly, a smug smile spread across her face.
“Reah!”
“Damen!” she calmly warned him without raising her voice. “How do you think my tits feel when you’re hogging the damn sheets!”
For a moment there was no answer. But when he did...
“Honestly?” Damen hooked his arm over her torso and forced her backwards so he could address her smug little self, face to face. “I don’t give a rat’s ass.” Funnily enough, despite circumstances, he found himself struggling to keep from smiling at the stupid expression she was pulling.
“But I’m suddenly curious to find out…”
“No! Fuck off!” Reah tripped up his attempts to pull the sheets away from her, awkwardly kicking out with her tightly bound legs, sprawling him flat against her rolled up self and crushing her ribs in the process.
The two lay there for a moment, both equally disoriented by the early morning and tiresome struggle.
“…Reah?” Damen moaned against her layered chest. “I’m begging you.”
With a sigh, she finally conceded and wriggled herself free, lifting an edge as an open invitation for him to join her beneath the covers again. “Just don’t try anything funny.”
“What could I try? I’m practically infertile!”
“I was referring to your bastardly habit of hogging the sheets.”
“Whatever.”
…
Reah frowned to herself and Damen suddenly jerked. “Shhhit… they are a bit frozen aren’t they?” She chuckled to herself in mild amusement, turning her head to look at him with a big grin on her face, receiving a cold flat stare in return.
“Yes. And thanks to you, I can barely feel them anymore,” he said dryly.
Reah smiled crookedly, finding a challenge in the air. “Really? You’re sure about that?”
“Eep!”
She burst out laughing, then quickly stifled herself into a mere snigger so as not to wake Quin.
At Damen’s venomous glare, Reah stuck out her lower lip in a playful, patronizing manner. “Aw, what’s the matter, schnookums?” she planted a firm peck on his lips and pulled away smiling, biting her lip to keep from laughing again when his eye twitched.
“Oh nothing, sweet cheeks!”
“EEP!” Reah squeaked at the firm pinch on her ass.
“You bastard,” she leered.
“Just returning the favour, hunny buns.”
“Hey!” She stiffened at the second pinch, her eyes wide with warning. “Stop that! Or I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.” She continued to hold her stare, then proceeded to poke her tongue out at him before slumping back, staring directly at the bland ceiling above.
Her view was soon obscured as Damen rose up from his position and leaned over, propping a hand over the other side of her waist, rubbing his thumb softly against her skin.
“How’s the Armoury coming along. Weren’t you wanting to open that today?”
“What do you care?”
“Uch! Fucking hell,” Damen sighed in frustration. “Can’t I be nice? You’re even worse than usual! What the fuck’s up?”
Reah sighed, refocussing her eyes so she was no longer looking ‘through’ him. A touch of regret in her voice. “Nothing. I… I’m sorry, all right? It’s just some of my friends…” She sighed again, then turned her eyes away. “It just seems neverending sometimes.”
…
“I’ll re-open the Armoury next week,” she finally admitted. “Really can’t be buggered right now.”
After a moment, Damen lowered himself back down, resting his head next to Reah’s on the pillow while leaving his arm draped across her body. The two stayed that way for a while, just resting; Reah rolling onto her side some stage later, so she was leaning in closer to him.
“…Thanks,” she uttered quietly.
“What for?”
Reah shrugged. “Just for being here.”
The Nightwalker is back!
*** March 1, 2007, 1 pm ***
***Isla Nublada Research Facility***
Walking into Delancre’s private apartments, the first thing the demon noticed was the state of disarray. There’d obviously been a pitched battle in the room recently, but not all the destruction was from the fight. There were pillows torn apart and scattered on the floor, expensive pieces of pottery and works of art trashed and strewn about, and shredded items of clothing in tatters all around. The latter was all women’s clothing, and the demon supposed it had belonged to her. He also realized that Lord Delancre was in a fit of pique over the way this had ended, and he’d taken his rage out on the apartment, since there was no one around to vent it on. That’s why he’d been the one to come. No one else would dare face The Master when he was so caught up in his temper. They were all too afraid. Only he was not.
The demon moved through the darkened rooms, searching. Finally, when he came to the guest quarters, he found what he was looking for. Ambrose Delancre sat on the tattered remains of the bed where Alessa had slept, clutching a bathrobe to his chest. The robe was the only whole item of clothing that the demon could see anywhere. Ambrose had his face buried in its soft folds, and he was rocking slowly. The demon thought that perhaps the man was weeping.
“Lord,” the demon’s deep, rumbling voice broke the silence. “This has to be at an end. Your armies await your command. We cannot continue without you.”
Lord Ambrose Delancre looked up, his face streaked with tears. His normally well kept hair stood up in wild snarls and his face was distorted with rage and grief. He stared at the demon, rage coming upon him like a mask. “Are you mad to come here now?!” he shouted. “I could kill you for this. No one is allowed to come here. Not without my leave. Do you wish to die by my hand?!”
The demon laughed mirthlessly. “You brought me back from death all those months ago,” he said. “You have condemned me to this torment that is my life. Why should I care if you choose to end it?”
The demon moved a few feet towards the door and turned on the lights, flooding the room with brightness. “Look at me! Look at what I’ve become. What difference does death make now?”
Ambrose stared at the horror before him. He could recall this demon, when he’d looked so like a man. He’d once been so beautiful. His thick, black hair and smiling blue eyes had made him a hit with many women, human women. But, of course, he’d made the mistake of falling for the wrong one. He’d given his heart to the one woman Ambrose cared the most about, Amanda Blaise. He’d coined her little nickname, Daye, because she was the “day” to his “night”. The man, as he revealed to Amanda at the time, was really a demon, one whose true form was only revealed at night. When the sun set, he transformed, becoming even more beautiful in a terrifying way. His golden skin shone like actual gold and his blue eyes lightened, glimmering like molten silver. His dark hair became the color of moonlight. Of course, that was before Ambrose had intervened, back when Ryan had been a peaceful, weak demon. Ambrose had seen fit to correct that.
When Ambrose had found out about Ryan and Amanda, he’d been livid. That a filthy demon would corrupt his pure, perfect Amanda was beyond comprehension. He’d believed the girl was confused, misled. That is until the day he’d come and taken Ryan away. Amanda had raged. She’d cried and screamed, and demanded that Ryan be released. It was then that Ambrose realized she was tainted, twisted, and that she could never serve as his “lady”. He decided he would have to use her, but he would see that she was punished for her disloyalty. After all, hadn’t he done so much for her, rescued her from a hovel and brought her to the Council to be trained? He’d given her power, access to great wealth, and she’d repaid him by lying with a demon, a weak one at that. Well, Ambrose would certainly have his back.
So, things hadn’t quite worked out with Mariah the way he’d hoped they would. He could deal with that. He would deal with that. It was better in some ways. Now it would be his way, and his way alone. It was just unfortunate that Ryan had been killed in that debacle. It had left him so…bitter.
Ambrose stood, throwing down the bathrobe Alessa had worn. He slowly perused the room. He’d been wallowing for hours here. Ever since his men reported Alessa’s “rescue”. The time for self pity was over. This demon was right about that. He turned his attention back to his “Captain”. For the Slayer was his “General” but this demon was nearly as important. He’d been in Los Angeles, had seen Daye and her friends. He was a valuable asset. That’s why Ambrose had had him brought back after the cop killed him.
*Resurrection carries a heavy price,* Ambrose thought, gazing silently at the demon before him. He was a distorted picture of his former self. The powerful magic used to bring him back had left Ryan completely changed. He could never again assume his human form, and his demon form was grotesquely altered. His once golden skin had changed to midnight, etched with golden cracks all around. His beautiful moonlight hair had all fallen out, and a terrible golden scar marred his once handsome face. From just above his left eye it ran in a long line down to below his chin, cutting across his mouth, leaving his expression forever twisted in a furious sneer. But his eyes were the worst of all. Once in the daylight they had blazed a beautiful, brilliant blue and at night glowed silvery in the moonlight, but now they were empty black sockets. He saw still; somehow through his demonic powers he saw more clearly than any man could, but to look into his eyes was to know true horror.
“Ryan,” Ambrose began, but the demon cut him off.
“…is dead,” the demon finished. “I am The Nightwalker, and you are done here, aren’t you, my Lord?”
Ambrose nodded. The Nightwalker was full of spite, and he was barely subordinate, but he was very strong and very powerful. He was an excellent resource, and one that Ambrose intended to exhaust. When they were triumphant, The Nightwalker would no longer be necessary, and Ambrose could finally punish him for his attitude, but until then it was tolerated.
“Yes, Nightwalker,” he continued smoothly. “Have servants sent up to set this place to rights. You and I will go down to the training field. I imagine we will be leaving soon, very soon.”
The Nightwalker nodded. He knew Ambrose would end his torment once the group in L.A. was defeated. It was all that he ‘lived’ for.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 1st
3:10 pm
a plane over the Caribbean
Daye sat beside the sleeping Verbati demon on the plane as they began the take off. It was a very good thing that they'd flown in on Ellis' private jet. *Private jet?* Daye thought for the hundredth time. *Imagine having those kinds of resources. Hmm, maybe Tash should look into getting a jet for the Foundation. Yeah, right.*
Daye held Alessa's hand, and waited patiently for the plane to steady in the air. She had intended to start healing her friend as soon as they left the island on the boat, but there'd been some trouble in the form of a Policia boat that had been very concerned with what Daye and the rest of them were doing out in that particular stretch of ocean so early in the morning. Ellis had managed to "talk" them out of trouble while Daye and Inés kept Alessa quiet below decks, but Daye hadn't felt calm enough at that point to attempt any sort of healing. Now was a different story.
The plane finally settled into the flight, and Daye removed her seat belt. She gestured for Inés to help her lay the still unconscious Alessa down across the seats, while Daye herself knelt beside her. Ellis handed Daye the small carry on bag she'd brought along and then stepped back.
Daye had never attempted this level of healing by herself before. She wasn't sure how well she would do, but she was bound and determined to try. Alessa was in really bad shape, and even her demon physiology didn't seem to be helping her to heal all that fast. She didn't lie still by any means, though. She often thrashed about and cried out, as if caught in some terrible nightmare, which considering the past few weeks was probably not far from the mark.
Daye closed her eyes and concentrated all her will, pulling a crystal from her bag and passing it over Alessa's battered and bruised body. She began to chant softly in Latin. The crystal lit up with a warm, healing glow.
Inés intently watched as the witch worked, careful not to distract her. The woman had a look of fierce concentration on her face, and the crystal in her hands seemed to be doing its work. Awed, Inés could see how some of the shallow scratches and gashes slowly closed, and the bleeding from her worse wounds stopped. The rest may not have noticed, given Alessa was still in her demon form, but there were bruises as well, and puffiness under her fur; those too slowly disappeared. Alessa slowly stopped moving and groaning.
Inés looked up from her cousin to Daye, and could see that the woman was straining. She turned to Connor and Ellis who were watching a little further back, and they shared a concerned expression. Neither of them wanted Daye to collapse from too much effort either.
Daye struggled to maintain her focus. The wounds were knit and most of the bruises were healed. Her magic had repaired a couple of broken ribs, and some internal injuries as well, but Alessa was still not fully healed. Daye also detected symptoms of some sort of virus Alessa must have picked up in the jungle. Of course, such a thing could not be 'healed'. For that, Daye would have to stop and use a different sort of spell altogether, and as weak as she was feeling she didn't think that was possible.
Alessa had only a mild fever, though, among some other symptoms. Daye thought maybe her physiology would take care of the rest. Finally Daye slumped against the seats behind her, the glow from the crystal fading. Her head dropped wearily to her chest and she sighed.
"I'm sorry, I can't do any more," she said softly. "My healing magic is not that strong. If Kate were here..." Daye's voice trailed off as she looked up at Inés. "I'm very sorry. She still has some small cuts, and I didn't heal all of the bruising. And there's something else..."
A cry from Alessa interrupted her, and they all looked at the demoness. She had her eyes opened and the fear in her demon face was clear even for the humans. She stared around, albeit unseeing her surroundings. Then she started to speak in her demon tongue, a wild and hoarse language, speeding and speeding until the hysteria in her speech was clear. Inés sat on the couch and placed her hands on her cousin’s shoulders, speaking harshly in the same language. When that didn’t work the demoness slapped her hard.
For a couple of seconds Alessa just stared at her, eyes rounding at seeing her cousin. Then she spoke; this time in English, although the words sounded strange from her demon mouth.
“Inés?” she asked, questioning the reality of the figure in front of her. Inés swallowed, and smiled.
“Sí, querida. Please get to your human form, so the rest can understand you too,” she said gently, caressing her face. Alessa watched her for some time, as if trying to decide whether the demoness was real or once again a dream. Finally she nodded and turned human. Inés quickly covered her naked body, but not before the rest could notice the ugly bruises that she still bore. Alessa looked around, as if looking for someone, and then closed her eyes again.
Daye rose unsteadily to her feet and started to move across the cabin to an unoccupied seat. She swayed as she walked, and stopped abruptly, nearly collapsing. Ellis ran forward to catch her and helped her to sit down. "Rest," he ordered. "You've done enough. She'll be all right now."
Daye could hear the frustration and fury in the man's voice, and she understood perfectly. Someone had abused and used Alessa horribly. Someone from the Watchers' Council was responsible for it. Someone that Daye undoubtedly knew. The Council had interfered again and again in this demoness' life, and Daye couldn't understand why. They were so damn arrogant! They believed that somehow they had the right to do these things. Daye could understand how Ellis, and Inés, and even Connor, might feel about Watchers. She could barely hold her head up; she was so ashamed.
"There's something more here," she finally said. "Alessa is sick, not just hurt. She appears to have some sort of virus. I could cure her, but I'm too weak now. And... I think someone has tampered with her... with her mind... somehow. There were definite traces of magic. I would say, although it's repulsive, that someone removed a piece of her memory, and not in a gently way. It’s more like it was ripped out. It's the equivalent of surgery by a butcher. I... don't know if anything can be done about it either. It's not within my knowledge. I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry."
Daye slumped back against the seat and closed her eyes. She was utterly defeated.
Ellis watched the woman and his face softened.
“You have done enough," he repeated. "And don’t blame yourself for this. It’s not your fault.” The Watcher had guessed his feelings correctly, and he could guess hers. Although he couldn’t really understand why somebody would want to belong to the Council, he knew that there were honorable people among Watchers and Amanda Blaise seemed to be one of them. But somehow of late, it was the others, the unscrupulous, corrupt ones who were getting to the top levels of the organization, infecting the whole Council.
He looked to the spot where Inés had started to clean Alessa with a wet towel, the vampire sitting nonchalantly some seats back, in a shadowy corner. However, Ellis could see that what had happened to Alessa wasn’t sitting well with him either. He looked at ease enough, but he was tense and watching everything with cold eyes.
Alessa detachedly sensed Inés' ministrations and just half listened to the rest talking; after confirming that Chance’s voice wasn’t among them she didn’t want to open her eyes again. He wasn’t there, somehow he wasn’t there, and that just didn’t feel right. She had recognized the others; apart from Inés, there was Ellis, James and Daye. She guessed Daye was responsible for her healing, she knew she could do that.
With her eyes still closed she tried to focus on her body. She felt feverish and her throat was sore but only that. Her chest didn’t hurt when she breathed and her leg didn’t feel hurt, the feelings of lesser wounds and bruises had almost disappeared too. What worried her most was that she still didn’t remember what she had been doing in that jungle. She tried to think harder and only got herself the beginnings of a headache.
And most of all: why the hell Chance wasn’t in her rescue party? She felt limp, in body and spirit.
“Where is Chance?” she asked, her eyes still closed. And noticed the uncomfortable silence that followed her question.
Daye heard Alessa's question, and she sat up, shooting a warning glance at Inés. She shook her head once decisively. Now was not the time to tell Alessa about what had happened to Chance. That would have to wait until she was stronger.
Inés nodded. They had been prepared for this. "He... couldn't come with us," Inés replied. "Querida, he wanted to... but he just couldn't. Rest now. You'll understand soon enough."
Alessa nodded. She knew Inés wasn’t telling her the whole story, but felt too tired to press her at the moment. She opened her eyes and looked at her, a weak smile in her lips. She turned to the rest then, and smiled again.
“Gracias,” she said. “To all of you.” She really felt tired and her head had started to throb, but there were so many questions in her mind and she needed to know. “What happened?” she asked. “Somehow I just… can't remember.”
Ellis shared a look with Daye, it was just as she had said. Fury rose in him again; on top of the physical abuse, this felt like rape to him. He rose and walked to sit beside her. He remembered her as she had last seen her, enjoying herself in the Opera, and had to fight to control himself.
“Seems you needed some tropical island holidays,” he joked, moving her matted hair from her face, but his eyes were full of anxiety. He sobered up and added gently. “We’ll give you the complete report after you sleep a little, Alessa. It won't be long until we reach LA, we’ll talk then. Rest now.”
Alessa nodded again, and closed her eyes, falling into a calm sleep almost instantly.
Afternoon Vigil
Thursday, 1 March 2007 – 6:11pm
Los Angeles County Hospital – Paediatric Intensive Care Unit
“She seems much calmer now,” Kate said contemplatively as she sat at Emma’s bedside, running her fingers through her daughter’s fine, red hair while she slept. They’d been there for a couple of hours now, still waiting for the results of Dr Greenblatt’s tests to come through. At first Emma had been crying, obviously unsettled by her new surroundings not to mention the continuous influx of doctors and nurses that kept prodding and poking her for some test or another. But at least now she had managed to calm a little, even to the point where she could sleep. Kate continued to stroke her hands through Emma’s hair in a soothing motion, unwilling to halt her gentle ministrations in case she might stir again.
Galen stood a little way from the bed, observing the scene before him silently. It killed him to see his daughter like this, hooked up to that heart monitor with several IVs trickling a steady stream of antibiotics, painkillers and other necessary fluids into her body. The ECG unit that monitored her heart rate beeped steadily in the corner. It irritated him constantly and each sound it emitted grated through his nerves like fingernails scraping against a chalkboard.
He nodded at Kate’s observation and walked closer to stand behind her, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder. “The medication no doubt-”
Suddenly the door opened, cutting Galen’s sentence short as a young man not much older than Kate walked into the room. He looked up, apparently surprised to see the couple there. “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said politely, offering them one of his award winning smiles. “Dr Greenblatt wanted me to take another set of readings.” He noticed the worried glances pass between the couple at his words and smiled again, “If you’d prefer you can wait outside till I’m done.”
“Perhaps that’s a good idea,” said Galen suddenly before Kate could protest. The last thing either of them needed was to watch their daughter endure yet another examination. Besides, neither of them had eaten in the past twelve hours and it would do them good to grab something now while they had the time.
Galen led the way to the hospital cafeteria, getting two cups of hot tea and a couple of unappealing looking sandwiches. He added a few spoons of sugar to Kate’s cup though he knew she hated the stuff. It would do her some good, calm her nerves and god knew they could both use that right now. He walked over to the table where Kate had chosen to sit and placed the items down on the dated Formica surface.
“Here we go,” he said, attempting to inject a note of ease into his voice as he sat.
Kate looked down into the dark golden contents of the plastic cup as she nursed it between her hands, the steam rising up and feeling warm against her face. She lifted the cup to her lips and blew on the hot liquid to cool it before taking a tentative sip. Her nose wrinkled up in revulsion as she tasted the unusually sweet tea and immediately set the cup back down. “Ugh, too sweet,” she said in distaste, pushing it away.
“Drink it,” said Galen firmly, pushing the cup back across the table, “it’ll make you feel better.”
“It’ll take more than a cup of sweet tea to make me feel better,” Kate mumbled disheartenly, but accepted the drink anyway. An uncomfortable silence stretched out between them as the couple felt the urgency to speak, to say anything to lessen the intensity of the moment. It was the first time they’d been alone, without the threat of nurses or doctors interrupting them since they’d arrived at the hospital.
“I’m sorry about the food,” said Galen finally, “It was all they had.”
“It’s okay,” said Kate, not really looking at what he’d brought her but guessing at what kind of fare it would be. “I’m not all that hungry anyway.”
“No, me neither… But you should eat it anyway,” added Galen, purposefully picking up his own sandwich and fingering the thin cellophane wrapping, tearing it to shreds on the table before he removed it fully. He swallowed a mouthful of his own cup of hot tea before returning to the offending item. The filling wasn’t all that tempting, a dollop of tuna fish and sweetcorn squashed between two slices of dry looking white bread that was already starting to curl at the corners. As he took the first bites he silently wondered if hospitals made their food inedible on purpose, as a means of drumming up more business.
Kate watched Galen as he ate before she turned to her own sandwich, noticing how he had given her the better of the two – if that was at all possible. The contents were probably not much better, grated cheese and some unappetising slices of tomato, but it looked much fresher than Galen’s had. She picked at the grainy bread, pulling out seeds and lining them up on the edge of the table before she felt Galen’s eyes on her. She picked up the sandwich with a sigh and forced herself to take a bite. It might have been sawdust or cardboard that she was eating it tasted so dry and flavourless against the insides of her mouth. She chewed dutifully, taking another sip of the sickly tea to wash it down before placing it back on the wrapper.
“We should call Jack…” she said after a while, glancing at her watch and realising that he would wonder where they were when he returned home, “…and Tash… Let her know we aren’t going to make it to the meeting tonight…”
Galen looked up, an incomprehensible glimmer of annoyance in his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck about Natasha or her goddamn meeting!” he spat angrily, unable to hold back his irritation. “Do you think I care whether she puts out two chairs too many when our daughter might be-” He stopped suddenly, gathering the shredded pieces of his sandwich wrapper and balling it up into his hand. It was all he could do to stop himself from punching something.
Kate turned away miserably. She was thinking the same morbid thoughts too, though she kept them pressed down, deep down and wouldn’t allow herself to say anything less it should make it come true. “She’s going to be fine,” she said instead, firmly and uncompromisingly. “She’s got to be fine.”
Galen didn’t say a word. He didn’t have the strength to contradict her, if Kate wanted to believe everything was fine then that was her business. “You finished?” he said finally, gesturing towards the half-eaten sandwich that lay ignored in front of her.
“Uh? Oh… yeah…” mumbled Kate absently. She didn’t feel hungry anyway, that first bite still lay heavy like lead inside her stomach. Galen picked up the things and carried them over to the waste bin. When he returned Kate had risen to her feet and was waiting for him.
“Things will be okay won’t they?” she asked quietly, her eyes wide and desperate for some shred of hope to cling to. “They wouldn’t take her from us, would they? It would be too cruel…”
Galen looked away. It was more than he could bear to think up an answer whether it were true or not. All he knew was how he felt inside; sort of numb and removed, as though he were watching everything from a distance. He suddenly looked up at he felt Kate take hold of his hand, bringing it up to her lips where she kissed it gently before rubbing her cheek against its reassuring warmth.
“I love you,” she said quietly.
Galen’s face wrinkled into an uncomfortable frown as he removed his hand from hers, digging it deep into his pocket. “Yeah… well,” he said coolly, “we should probably be heading back.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 2nd, 2007- Adriana and Dominika’s Apartment- 4:17 pm***
Adriana brushed out her dark brown hair in front of the medium sized mirror in her room. She then clipped it up neatly before working on reapplying her eye liner. Her shift started in 65 minutes, but she wanted to do a few things before going.
A knock came from the door. “Drea, guess vat came today?” Dominika’s voice rang out.
Adriana sighed and replied, “A gift from ‘prince charming’, I assume?”
From behind the door, a groan occurred. “No! It’s Sergei and Gven’s vedding pictures!” Dom said.
Drea dropped her eye liner and darted out of her room. They had been waiting for months for those, and after the development of Gwen’s pregnancy, the girls were especially anxious. Sure, they had taken their own pictures, but it was with a throw-away camera. The Lautari sisters much preferred that they have the neat, official ones.
Dominika held a manila envelope with their address on it. Adriana grabbed the envelope and opened it, slowly taking out the enlarged pictures.
The first one was of Sergei and Gwen standing together on the beach, smiling. Drea smiled at them. They looked very happy together, and it was evident that they were going to be great parents. The next was of her and Sergei in the beach house, their arms on each other’s shoulders. Adriana flipped to the next, which was of Gwen and her father, the Gitano Gypsy King, Christophe.
“T’at baby is already a big deal, inheriting so much, and it technically still is just a few cells!” Dom commented.
Adriana rolled her eyes and continued on. Christophe Saracens was very powerful in the industrial world, owning several shipping companies centered in Marseilles, possessing a respectable number of shares in the stock market, and acquiring a vast quantity of land in southern France. This is how he earned the title “Gypsy King”. All of which, was to be inherited by his only child, Gwen.
Dominika laughed at Drea’s expression. “And you know vat our children vill inherit?” she began when her sister continued along with her, “A caravan and some musty old books.” Drea just sighed and moved on the next picture.
Adriana found herself looking at a simple picture of just the beach. She remembered back to that night, when the two clans were bickering, when she wore that awfully thin dress, when she got ‘friendly’ with James… He was too nice and too romantic that night.
But James was different from what he showed to Drea. What he did to Tash was inexcusable, and Adriana knew it. Yet, he seemed so sorry for what he did that night outside Bob’s. Drea spun in an abundance of confusion.
So much so, that she felt tears form in her eyes. She brought her hand to her mouth as she began weeping loud sobs. Thinking back, Adriana didn’t know what caused her to do this, but she couldn’t stop crying. She dropped to her knees and just let the tears run from her eyes. Dominika immediately dropped down and hugged her sister.
“Oh, Drea, t’e vedding vasn’t t’at emotional. Calm down, Adriana, just calm down. Vatever is bot’ering you, it’ll go away…” she said softly.
This only made her cry harder. Adriana was finally ready to accept it. Accept the fact that she missed him. She missed James. Even though she liked Darian, a lot, she still had some issues with the vampire.
Dominika sighed and then groaned as Sashenka, her small dog, came barking at her heels. She gathered Sashenka in her arms, stood up and looked at Adriana. “You don’t look so vell. I’ll go look for t’e number to your job and tell t’em you can’t come in,” she told her sister and left for the phone.
Adriana began to wipe away her tears, her mascara creating a black river down her face. Drea curled her legs up and sat on the floor for a few minutes before making a decision. It had been months since she saw Sergei, and she figured now would be a good time to visit him and Gwen, just to get away from LA for awhile.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday 1st March 2007 - 6:25pm
Tash steeled herself to go downstairs. The meeting that afternoon had been small - Jeet was still in his coma, Tash had passed on Daye's message that she'd taken Inès and her boyfriend to go look for Alessa, and Chance... Well, Chance was gone. Kate and Galen had simply not shown up and weren’t answering the phone. Tash had already decided to go visit their house as soon as she was done here, to see if anything was wrong. Of those who were there, none had their mind on the job at hand and Tash had broken the meeting up early. Nikolai had already made an excuse and left even earlier, and Tash suspected it was more than just the general level of worry amongst the members. Cole's grief was almost overwhelming to her own senses, but there was something from Darian that was worse than grief. Blame. Self-loathing. Even the non-psychics in the room felt uncomfortable, whether they knew the cause or not.
She'd thought about going to see him then, especially when she heard the noises begin in the training room. She knew it had to be Darian. But as she'd opened her door she'd spotted Reah waiting patiently by the doorway and decided to butt out for a while. If Reah planned on some physical therapy, Tash knew Reah would certainly give Darian something to think about other than his supposed failure. Then the sounds of thumping and banging finally stopped and Tash couldn't put it off any longer. She'd gently chided Darian at last week's meeting when he'd told them of the events in Israel, and some of the others had chimed in. Despite the urgency, there were people who could have been rousted at little notice to go help with their mission, to even the odds a little. But Darian and Cole had both been too distraught last week to even think straight, and it wasn't the time to push the issue.
But Tash didn't want to see Darian spiralling into despair, either. She squared her shoulders and took that first step down, hoping she'd be able to strike the right balance with him.
“Hold on,” came a startled voice. Inside the apartment, Darian had just gotten out of the shower when the knock had come. *Bloody hell.* Wrapping a towel around his waist, the fae made his way to the door, only opening it a crack.
“Oh, hey Tash,” he said, relieved it was someone he knew. “Something I can help you with?”
Tash smiled gently. "Actually, I was hoping it could be the other way around." On the surface Darian seemed calmer than he had at that afternoon's meeting, but beneath it still roiled an undercurrent of negative emotions. The dull pinks and yellows in his aura attested to that.
"Mind if I come in?" Tash dropped her eyes to his towel-wrapped waist for a moment. "Though I might let you disappear to get dressed first, if you like," she said with a mischievous grin.
The man’s face reddened as he welcomed Tash inside. “Yeah, probably better if I throw on some clothes. Make yourself at home; I’ll be back in a second.” Darian disappeared into his room, emerging about a minute later dressed in basic faded jeans and simple blue t-shirt.
“So, what exactly is it you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked tentatively, hoping there was not another apocalypse already on the horizon.
While Darian got dressed, Tash had settled herself on his sofa, trying to block out the feelings coming from Cole's room. Grief at Chance's death mingled with confusion and some surprise – though not an unpleasant one, from what Tash was sensing.
When Darian emerged she smiled at him. "No, no apocalypse just at the moment. Though I do wonder why I wasn't woken up last week – I'm only upstairs you know. So are Reah and Alice." She kept her voice light, wishing she wasn't the one giving him that hangdog expression. Her eyes were drawn to a slowly darkening bruise on his jaw and she nodded to it, "Though maybe I'm not the first one to have talked about this today. I hope Reah talked some sense into you as well as knocking it in."
Darian lowered his eyes, not sure how to react. Why hadn’t he asked for help? Pandora had said there was no time, but what if he had just woken up the others? What if..?
“I’m not sure. When Pandora came and explained everything that was going on… well, it was just so mind blowing. At the time I remember offering to wake you up, but the witch had said there was no time. I guess I just went along with what she was saying.”
Was that an excuse? No, he wasn’t trying to make excuses. He had made the decision, and now had to live with the consequences – no, everyone had to live with the consequences.
Tash patted the seat beside her. "Come, sit down," she said. As he did, Tash took his hands in her own gloved ones. "There's nothing to be done about what's already happened, not this time. I don't recommend getting Cole in there to learn that time travel spell, ok?"
“I’m keeping an eye on Cole, don’t worry,” he said.
She smiled, and waited for Darian's answering smile before she continued. "I know you will, and I know you, Darian. I know how whole-heartedly you fight. I saw you on G'rnatha. Hell, I fought you myself in the beginning, remember? And I know you've lost a lot recently too." She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before fixing them on Darian's again. "I know you did everything you possibly could to save Chance. Don't go beating yourself up over 'coulda, woulda, shoulda'. But I also don't want you to forget the lesson here; it was an expensive one. You have friends. We will help in all sorts of situations, be they world-threatening or not. But you have to let us help."
“I’m sorry Tash. I should have come to get you guys regardless of what Pandora said,” Darian replied. “We’re a team now, and I need to start thinking like a group member, and not as an individual.”
Tash nodded slowly. "Yes, that's part of it. And I know it's not easy – hell, I've been fighting solo now for years. It's taking a lot of adjustment to think in terms of the bigger picture, so I know how difficult it is."
She looked down at her hands, still wrapped around Darian's. "I'm sorry, Darian. I'm not really trying to tell you off. I'm just... I feel like I should have known anyway, whether you told me about it or not. Chance hadn't shown up to the meetings after Alessa left for England, and when she rang me she said he'd been a bit distant to her. It shouldn't have had to come to this at all – we White Hats should already have been mobilising to see if there was a problem with Dray'chen or something. I should have worked it out already, dammit!" Tash let go of Darian's hand, clenching her fist in frustration.
Tash’s outburst took Darian by surprise. This was in no way her fault. “Tash, even though you started the White Hats, you can’t expect to keep track of everyone’s life. Chance had issues he needed to deal with.”
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. And what I said to you applies to me as well – I can't go back and change it now. It's done. And I am glad you saved the world," she grinned, though it faded again an instant later. "But I'm sorry you had to see Chance die."
She heaved a deep sigh, shaking her head. "I feel sorry for Alessa... I wonder if she knows. Gods, I just hope Daye can rescue her – she’d better be ok." Her gaze met Darian's once more, "You know, life was a lot simpler when the only person I had to worry about was me."
“I know what you mean,” Darian replied quietly, gazing briefly at the closed door to Cole’s room. “I’ve dealt with a lot of death; Cole on the other hand...” He paused a moment, the look of concern obvious not only on his face, but also in his aura. “He’s too young to have to deal with all this. First Dathan almost killed him, then the drug overdose, his future self coming back through time, getting kidnapped, now this. Chance meant a lot to him, and I’m not sure if seeing him die was the last straw. I… I just don’t know what to say to him.”
A quick glance to Cole's door showed Tash that it was still closed. Music played from within, though not too loudly. "Death is never easy, and often there's really nothing to say that will help. But we have an advantage with him – we've seen what adversity makes of him. I think he'll be fine. Just – be his friend, Darian." She looked aside for a moment, remembering. "You remember Matthias, who rebound Evexus?"
“Yeah,” he said, unsure of the connection Tash was trying to make.
"When I was young, only fourteen, I lost my whole family. Matthias found me and even though the Sidhe had set a task and he wasn't to get involved with humans, he took me in, trained me, taught me. He looked after me. He became a friend, and a father to me." She smiled warmly, partly in memory of Matthias, "You could be that for Cole. I think it would be good for both of you."
“When I was human, I always had someone watching out for me. First the Blacks, then when they died, Sebastian was there. I’ve never been in the position to take care of someone else,” he said worriedly.
Tash giggled, "And how much practice do you think I've had at being a Mum? You'll be fine, and remember you won't be alone. I don't mind being woken up at 2am for an apocalypse or a teenage tantrum."
“Is it odd, that I’m more terrified of the latter of the two?” he said smiling.
The giggle became a full-throated laugh. "No, not at all. I'm right with you on that one."
Before they could say any more, the door to Cole’s room swung open as the teen walked into the room, dragging his feet behind him. “Hey Tash,” he said downcast, as he headed for the kitchen. “Don’t mind me; just getting some water, and I’ll be out of your way.”
"Hi, Cole," Tash said, getting up to give the teen a quick hug. "I'm not staying long, I'm afraid. But I'm just upstairs if you need anything, ok?" Cole nodded and continued his shuffle into the kitchen. Tash turned back to the living room sofa, and gave Darian a meaningful look.
“So yeah, whenever you want to spar, just drop by,” he said to Tash as he led her to the door.
Tash blinked, wondering if Darian had misread her meaning, then nodded, understanding that he’d changed the conversation so Cole wouldn’t feel awkward. On her way out she smiled across at Cole, then dropped her voice to Darian. "Remember, you'll be fine, ok?" Raising her voice again, she asked, “So, I’ll see you two at the next meeting?”
“We’ll be there.”
As the door closed behind the woman, Darian turned back to Cole, who was trudging back to his room. “Hey Cole, wanna watch some TV?”
The boy seemed to hesitate; it was tempting to go back to the solitude of the room to sulk.
“Come on. It’s no fun criticizing the American Idol auditions alone.”
Cole looked back to his room, then to Darian. “Yeah, TV sounds good.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 1 March 2007 – 8:30pm
Los Angeles County Hospital – Paediatric Intensive Care Unit
Kate waited until she was alone. Dr Greenblatt’s results had come in over an hour ago confirming Emma’s illness as an extremely rare form of meningitis; the rapid onset of her symptoms made it almost certainly a bacterial strain, though the lumbar puncture would confirm the Doctor’s diagnosis in a few days. Until then, he’d recommended an intensive regime of powerful antibiotics, Cetotaxime or Vanomycin – Kate couldn’t remember what he’d said now, though it made little difference so long as they did their job properly.
Kate couldn’t wait any longer. She’d resisted this course of action until now because Galen had pleaded with her not to. But inside she knew… she could never forgive herself for not trying everything in her power to help her baby.
She pulled the item from beneath the bed where she’d hidden it, still wrapped in a sheath of yellow tissue paper. She quickly unwrapped the object and placed it on the trolley tray, wheeling it over the bed. She’d bought the candle at the hospital gift-shop that afternoon and although it wasn’t the sort of thing she usually used in spells of this nature she had every confidence that it would work. It HAD to work. It didn’t matter anyway what type of candle was used; it was just a focus for her will, a beacon upon which to draw the healing energies that would release her daughter from this terrible illness.
The hospital had grown much quieter now, all the other visitors having gone home a while ago, she and Galen were allowed to stay because their daughter’s condition was so critical and Galen had gone to finally make that phone call to Jack. He wouldn’t be gone long, but hopefully it would be long enough.
Quietly Kate pulled the door to the room closed and resumed her position next to the bed. She smiled at Emma, lying so peacefully, her bright blue eyes taking in her new surroundings. Kate reached over and brushed her hair back gently. “It’s okay sweetie, I’m going to make you better,” she said softly, brushing back her own tears that spilled from her eyes and waving her trembling hands over the wick of the candle, making it burst into flame.
She closed her eyes and held her hands over the pyre, feeling the mystical energies flow from her into the column of wax. Her voice trembled as she spoke the words to aid her healing…
“Candle burn, shine your light.
Take what’s wrong and make it right.
Remove the pain, let these wounds heal.
Banish the suffering, no suffering to feel.”
Galen flipped a nickle on his thumb as he made his way back to Emma’s room. He’d caught Jack on the hop between his ‘office’ and returning home. Galen had quickly explained the situation and, despite his protests, Jack had insisted that he come join them at the hospital, if only for added moral support. Galen wasn’t so sure about it but he knew Kate would be happy; Jack was always such a comfort to her.
As he approached the private ward he frowned, noticing a bright golden glow ebbing its way from beneath the door to Emma’s room. He glanced around before pushing it open and walking inside, stopping in the doorway. His eyes widened as he watched his wife performing the spell, her hands hovering over the top of a candle that glowed brilliantly with a pure golden light that filled the entire room. Kate’s own eyes were closed in deep concentration, her face alight with the purity of the energies that surrounded her.
Galen suddenly rushed into the room, slamming the door shut behind him and yanking Kate’s hands away from Emma, knocking the candle to the floor in the process. It rolled around uselessly, its accumulated powers gone and dispersing molten wax across the floor as the flame was suffocated.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!!” he shouted angrily, grabbing Kate and pulling her from the chair where she sat, shaking her by the shoulders. At his words Emma began to cry again, tears rolling fiercely down her cheeks. “I asked you, begged you not to do this!” he continued to rage, his voice becoming louder to be heard over Emma’s tears. “Magic’s what got us here in the first place! I won’t let you use any more on her!”
It took a moment for Kate to realise what was happening as Galen yanked her out of her meditations. When she finally came to, Galen was still shaking her firmly, his face a mask of anger and fury directed solely at her. “What are you talking about?” she pleaded, trying to grab a hold of him, anything to stop him holding her so tightly. “I was trying to heal her, Galen! I can’t just sit and wait and do nothing!”
“You promised! You PROMISED Kate!!” Galen repeated in dismay, his grip loosening enough to allow Kate to free herself. She pulled away from him, her eyes alarmed and fixed on Galen warily as he slumped down into a chair.
“What do you mean, ‘magic’s what got us here in the first place’? … Galen?”
Galen shook his head in confusion, “Nothing… I didn’t mean anything…” He held his head in his hands, “I’m just upset that’s all… I mean…” He looked up, facing Kate staring out the doubt and fear in her eyes. “What if someone else had come in here and seen? You can’t just cast spells wherever you want to, it isn’t safe! And as for Emma, the doctors are treating her, they know what’s best.”
“But I-” Kate was about to say something else when the door opened again and a young blonde girl entered.
“Awww…” she gushed at Emma’s tears and bent over her to take her temperature. Kate cast Galen a wary look as she quickly kicked the candle under the bed and out of sight. “She’s so beautiful isn’t she?” the nurse cooed, tickling Emma’s chin while waiting for her reading. “Don’t cry precious, your mommy and daddy are here…”
Kate continued to stare at her husband from across the room. She’d never seen him react in such a way to her using magic before, though she could understand his protective instincts for Emma, but surely he should know that she’d never hurt her? He’d always had such faith in her abilities before, why had things changed now? If she could help Emma get better then wasn’t that the most important thing?
The nurse looked up as she quickly noted the reading down on the chart. She could tell that she’d walked in on something and was anxious to get away as soon as she could. “Dr Greenblatt will be down shortly,” she informed them meekly, disposing of the thermometer, “He has some things he needs to discuss with you.”
Galen nodded at the girl as she slipped out of the door, hoping for some way to escape himself. Kate inhaled sharply, obviously getting ready to say something but he held his hands up to stop her before she could start. “I need…” he began sharply, his eyes faltering as he looked at his wife, “… I need to make a phone call.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 2nd, 2007- Adriana's Apartment- 8:30 pm***
“Sergei, don’t go picking out paint colors yet, you don’t even know the sex of the baby!” Adriana exclaimed into the phone as she rummaged through her drawers. Drea had already called up her cousin and asked to come over, which he happily agreed to. A few hours before, when she and Dominika were eating some take out food for dinner, she was able to call up the airport and buy a ticket to New York.
A groan came the other line, followed with Sergei saying, “Not my idea! Gwen’s mother has great control over her, and she simply insisted that we start picking out colors.” After a pause he continued, “It’s a good thing you’re coming over. I think I’m about to go insane.”
Drea giggled at this and replied, “What would you do without me?”
Sergei groaned again, obviously becoming very annoyed. “Don’t be too full of yourself, Miss ‘I-flip-out-when-I-see-something-with-more-than-four-legs-and-need-Sergei-to-come-to-the-rescue’. I’ll remember that when you see a nice, big black spider,” he quipped at her. She then gave a dirty look that even he could see, despite being 3000 miles away.
Just then, the door bell rang. Adriana sighed and walked out of her room the front of the apartment, still on the phone with Sergei. She looked through the peephole to see Darian standing out there patiently.
Drea smiled to herself a little and told Sergei, “I’m gonna have to call you back, okay?”
Her cousin sighed and said, “All right, I guess. It’s 11:30 pm here, so make it soon. I have work tomorrow and I get up at 6:30 am, okey dokey?”
As she unlocked her door, she said her farewell to him and opened up to Darian, who was smiling.
“Ok quick, pick right hand or left hand?” he said before she could even say hello. Adriana quickly hesitated before pointing to Darian’s right hand.
“That one, I guess. Why?” she said to him.
He pulled his right hand from behind his back, revealing in it a plastic DVD box. “Yes, Kill Bill it is!” he said gleaming happily, before giving Adriana a kiss hello. He pulled away, seeing that she was somewhat surprised.
“Uh not ‘Kill Bill’ then? I also got ‘Mona Lisa Smile’,” he added hopefully, showing the DVD box in the other hand.
Drea gave a small sigh. “Oh, Darian, this is really sweet of you, but I really have no time tonight,” she told him regretfully. It broke her heart to see his face fall. Adriana then continued, “I’m leaving tomorrow for New York.”
“Aww, I was hoping we could hang out tonight,” he remarked disappointedly. “Guess I could always see if Reah is up to watching a movie,” he said jokingly, pretending to walk off to the other woman’s apartment.
Adriana gave him a warning smile. “If I catch you with another woman, Mr. Darian Gray, I’ll hang you from a tree,” she joked in a Southern Bell accent.
The two shared a quick laugh, enjoying the brief moment of teasing. “So is there a small chance you have a few minutes tonight to spend with your boyfriend?” he asked, putting on a big puppy dog pout, hoping to persuade her.
She flashed him a smile before narrowing her eyes down the floor tauntingly. Drea leaned on the door way while replying, “Depends… on how fast I get packed.” With this, her smiled faded and she groaned, walking farther into her apartment.
“Come on in. Dom’s out shopping for baby clothes,” Adriana told him when she saw Darian’s expression, which read ‘She finally got pregnant?’.
Drea then continued, “It’s for my cousin Sergei. His wife is having a baby.”
“Of course,” he added, thankful he hadn’t actually voiced what he was thinking. “So how long are you going to be gone for?” he asked timidly, hoping it wouldn’t be long. Ever since he had gotten back from Israel, Adriana had been doing a pretty decent job at keeping his sulking levels to a low.
Drea plopped herself on the couch, her legs reaching the other side. “Exactly one week. I’ll be back on the 11th. I just need some time away from LA, that’s all. Plus, I haven’t seen him in months,” she explained to him.
*A week isn’t that long,* he thought as he gently moved her legs, and took a seat next to her on the couch. “So have they been married long?”
“Nearly three months. They got married on December 13th,” Adriana began when she cut herself off. That was a very eventful night, for both Sergei and Drea. He got married, and she got to first base with a vampire. The thought of James sprinted into her head.
She looked at Darian. He was a handsome man, in a very pretty-boyish kind of way. James, on the other hand, was very bad boy handsome, dark looks and all. Adriana looked into Darian’s violet purple eyes, a large leap from James’ medium brown eyes.
Drea quickly shook his image from her head and focused on her boyfriend again. “Let’s just say that this baby is a little ‘souvenir’ from their honeymoon,” she said, giving him a wink and a giggle.
Darian listened intently, but couldn’t help but think Adriana seemed somewhat distracted. “What were you thinking about?” he smiled slyly.
“Huh?” Drea responded.
“You were so in the moon there for a second before you answered. What were you thinking about?”
Adriana’s heart began to race. She couldn’t exactly say to her boyfriend ‘Gee, sorry about that. I was just thinking about a vampire’! In a split second, she replied, “What on earth those two did to make a baby.” Drea then gave him another wink and laughed as she leaned in and kissed him.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 3rd
5:15 pm
Alessa’s home
Cole looked at his feet, horrified at what was to come. When Darian had informed him that Alessa had been rescued and was back in LA, the teen knew what he had to do; he had to tell her.
Everyone else - Tash, Darian, Daye - all thought it was too soon for Alessa to know, but Cole knew that was bullshit; if had been any of them in her position, they wouldn’t feel the same way.
The roar of the bus pulled the boy from his stupor, as it halted to a stop in front of him. *She has to know,* he convinced himself one last time before stepping on.
Alessa was lying very quietly; if she kept quiet enough her cousin wouldn’t ask her if she needed anything as she had been doing for the whole time they’d been back in LA. She was very grateful for Inés’ loving care but the demoness was just too insistent, too condescending and too deceitful.
Alessa seethed. A moment later she reprimanded herself for those harsh feelings. She knew Inés was just doing her best, but she needed something more. Her body would heal, eventually, although the cough seemed to be getting worse and not better, but it was her mind that was troubling her most now.
She needed answers and nobody was giving them. Alessa felt a rush of anger come to her and she had to control herself to stop from crying aloud. Her nerves had been on edge too; she wasn’t used to these emotional outbursts. She had yelled at Inés because her tea was too hot, too cold, too tea! She knew she was being a termagant but she couldn’t help it. A selfish, mean termagant.
Alessa turned in her bed and buried her face on Chance’s pillow, smelling his faint musky scent. Too faint. He hadn’t slept in their bed for many days now, and nobody was telling her anything. Her hands became fists in the sheet and she knew what was coming. She closed her eyes tightly and breathed deeply until the rush of emotion subsided, but only getting to cough from the effort.
The dry, harsh cough had started the night after they got to LA and hadn’t stopped but gotten worse. Daye had told her she had gotten some kind of virus in the jungle and that it would just run its course. But that was strange, she hadn’t heard of any “jungle virus” that could affect Verbatis, and she knew that Inés was worried too.
She heard Inés rush to her side and help her into a sitting position until the cough stopped, leaving her panting and breathing with difficulty. She was still short of breath but she was better. She saw the worry in her cousin’s eyes and was going to appease her when they heard the doorbell.
Inés looked at her. “Are you all right?”
When she nodded the demoness stood up and went to answer the door.
Cole waited anxiously on the other side of the door. Could he really tell her? If there was someone who would miss Chance more than him, it was Alessa, and she would definitely take his death the worst of all.
The door opened suddenly, a beautiful Latino woman standing on the other side. “Hi, is Alessa up for a visitor?” he asked meekly. This should be the cousin Tash had mentioned.
Inés looked at the teen in front of her with interest. The boy looked just the age to be one of her cousin’s students. She smiled.
“Well…” she doubted and looked back at the bedroom. Alessa seemed to have stopped coughing and she would welcome some distraction. “Sure,” she finally said, and moved away to let him pass. “Are you one of her students?”
“Huh? What..? No,” he said, taken off guard by the question. “I’m a friend of hers.”
“Oh?” Inés raised one finely sculptured eyebrow. “And Chance’s?” The boy’s look of sorrow was all the answer she needed. She closed the door, and before he could enter Alessa’s room, she whispered, “You know we don’t want her to know about him yet, don’t you?”
Cole stopped abruptly looking up at the woman’s forceful gaze. The look spoke enough for the boy to know she was serious. However, he was not lacking in his conviction. “It’s not right to hold this from her,” he replied, determined to accomplish what he come to do.
“She’s too weak. And she’s… she’s sick.” Inés’ voice broke and her eyes filled with tears, but she controlled herself instantly, looking at Cole again. “I don’t think she can cope with this too.” But her voice had a dubious edge, she had seen Alessa go from openly asking about her lover to simply lying there, probably imagining the worse. *Which is what happened, you fool.*
Cole seemed to hesitate for a moment; maybe she wasn’t ready to hear it? But the moment passed as quickly as it came. The truth was always better. “If you keep this from her, she will just resent you for it. Please,” he continued, his voice turning more pleading than forceful, “she loved him, and she deserves to know what happened to him.”
Inés felt her eyes fill of tears again, she knew all about her cousin’s love. She had felt it during the hours Alessa had been delirious, her barriers completely down. She had also sensed the feeling of loss and even betrayal at his not being there for her that she had deeply buried within herself. As much as she resented the man, Chance hadn’t betrayed Alessa, and she should know about that too, or the feelings would eat her from inside. Ready or not, she needed to know.
She just nodded her head, and looked at the teen intently. He cared about her, she could sense it, and he had cared about Chance too, loved him. She just nodded again and opened Alessa’s bedroom door.
“You have a visitor,” she told her cousin, and signalled Cole to enter. She smiled encouragingly at the teen who seemed to hesitate on the threshold. “Call me if you need me,” she said and retired to give them privacy.
The sight of Alessa was painful to look at. Unlike the strong, powerful woman he normally knew she seemed weak, powerless and defeated. “I’m so glad you’re ok,” he burst out, running forward and wrapping his arms gently around her. “You don’t know how worried I was when I found out that…” Tears began welling in his eyes. *No don’t cry, not now.*
“Shh, don’t cry Cole,” Alessa said and returned the boy’s warm hug. “I’m all right. I’m back now. Don’t you worry.” She moved backwards and looked at his teary face. “I’m so glad you came. You know you are my first visitor since I got here?”
Cole stepped back also. *So everyone was too afraid to tell her?* he thought sadly. It was unfortunate, maybe had things been different he wouldn’t have had to be the one to tell her this. “Alessa, there is a reason no one has come to see you,” he started, his voice shaking like a leaf in a storm.
“I… I guessed something was wrong. But nobody’s talked. I’ve asked but nobody’s answered.” Alessa closed her eyes, and remembered the lame excuses she had gotten from Inés and Ellis. Even James, who because of some reason Inés knew as Connor, hadn’t said a word about Chance, and James wasn’t the kind to keep silent. “Tell me what happened,” she finally said.
The salty drops began to accumulate once more in his eyes, as he thought back to the events in Israel.
“Chance was acting strange after you left. He seemed emotionless, detached. At first I didn’t think it was anything to worry about, but then he left LA without telling anyone. Pandora arrived at Darian’s apartment several days later,” he continued, causing Alessa’s face to grow even more worried.
“Oh Alessa I don’t understand why it all happened.” The tears were now flowing freely down his young pale face.
She absently patted his head; she didn’t have to ask about the details to know what had happened. Chance was dead. He was dead; it was the only explanation to Cole’s wholehearted tears or the others’ reticence to tell her. But somehow she didn’t feel any pain, she didn’t feel any loss, she just felt… empty.
She looked at the boy crying next to her and wished she could cry as well. Chance deserved it; he deserved to be cried for. But she just couldn’t. She just kept patting the boy and looking at the empty space in front of her eyes.
Cole hadn’t noticed that Alessa had fallen into a daze, and after a moment to collect himself, continued telling the chilling tale. “He was destined to destroy the Earth. His blood… Matthew’s blood was the key to some sort of apocalypse. But… but Chance stopped it, he stopped it by sacrificing himself.” Cole stopped, unable to go on.
The story didn’t make much sense, she thought, detachedly. Cole was too distressed to convey the events clearly, but she didn’t mind. He was dead. Nothing else mattered.
He was dead, Chance was dead. Her loving, caring, tender Chance was dead. Wisecrack, funny, witty Chance. Impetuous, passionate, wild Chance. Jealous, overprotective, stubborn Chance was dead. He was dead. Nothing else mattered.
Then anger replaced the void. So he died saving the world? Good for him. But she was alone now; he had left her alone when she needed him most. It was unfair. He was dead. It was unfair.
She shook her head. She was unfair.
The emotions started to grow inside her, little by little engulfing her until she felt as if she would be drowned by their force. Sorrow, pain, loss. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. She needed to cry but she was out of tears. She gaped and her hands turned to fists, the knuckles white, the nails turning into claws and burying deep into her palms.
The boy’s eyes grew wide, when the blood started to drip from her hands. “Alessa, no stop,” he cried out trying to unravel her fists. “Alessa stop it, please!” He had been wrong. He shouldn’t have told her. She wasn’t ready, and he couldn’t take seeing her like this.
At Cole’s touch Alessa looked at her hands, relaxing the grip. She looked at her bloody palms and then back to his worried eyes. Then something broke loose. Finally a high, howling sound came from her throat and she felt the tears burn her skin. Like water breaking from a dam, her emotions flooded her and ran their course. She hugged Cole and started to cry.
Galen's Concerns
Thursday, 1 March 2007 – 9:43pm
Los Angeles County Hospital – Intensive Care Paediatric Unit
“Dr Greenblatt!”
Galen carefully slipped from the room, jogging to catch up with the doctor as he walked quickly down the corridor. He’d just finished his routine check up on Emma, altering her medication slightly and putting her on some stronger painkillers, but during that time Galen had been desperate to ask him some very… specific questions, ones that he’d rather Kate wasn’t witness to. “I… well I wanted to ask you something… if you have a minute?”
The doctor glanced quickly at his watch before nodding. “I do, what is it Mr Eldridge?”
Galen looked torn for a moment, as though not sure whether he should speak or not. He glanced back at the room where he knew Kate was still waiting, sitting by Emma’s bedside as she had been practically all night, hoping and praying for some change in their daughter’s condition. During the past forty minutes, since the incident earlier with the spell, they’d barely said two words to one another. He knew Kate was confused about his reaction. Hell, part of himself was! Which was why he needed to talk to Dr Greenblatt now.
“Well, you see, my wife, Kate, when she was pregnant she… well she was diagnosed with preeclampsia a couple of weeks before Emma was born, I was just wondering if that could have-”
Dr Greenblatt shook his head resolutely; he could tell where this was going, it was a normal reaction to such a situation, to want to try to find a reason for what was happening, but there was no answer for him to give the man. “Don’t worry Mr Eldridge,” he said kindly, “it’s very unlikely that your wife’s condition had any effect upon Emma’s health whatsoever-”
Galen frowned, “Unlikely? So… there’s a chance?” He seemed to mull this over for a moment before speaking again, “She was very tired a lot of the time too, my wife, she- well, she didn’t take things as easy as she should have. Do you think that could have had something to do with it?”
“Well preeclampsia is often related to stress levels especially lack of rest… I’m surprised your obstetrician didn’t explain all this to you…”
“Oh he did,” said Galen quickly, feeling awkward that he’d even brought the subject up but he needed to know. “I was just concerned that maybe this extra stress during pregnancy might have affected Emma in a way that wasn’t picked up. I mean…” He frowned, not knowing quite how to explain himself, he couldn’t just come out and say ‘my wife’s a witch, could her using powerful magics when she was pregnant have hurt the baby?’
Dr Greenblatt smiled sympathetically, not waiting for him to finish his sentence. “I know you’re concerned Mr Eldridge, but really all this speculation won’t help anyone, certainly not Emma. As for your wife, lots of women work during their pregnancy. It’s not uncommon for them to be subjected to a certain amount of stress-”
“-No… well, yes, I mean… …What I meant was-” Galen cut himself short, he was thinking of the doppelganger attack followed by the incident with Mother Mariah. Kate had exerted herself immensely on both occasions despite his protests and then there was that thing with helping Sorrow fix his D’Nethk’Quan. “Emma was quite small when she was born,” he said finally, “I read somewhere that underweight babies can be more susceptible to such illnesses…”
Dr Greenblatt looked uncomfortable. He could tell the man was hurting, he couldn’t blame him for that, and he could understand his need to looking for answers, he really could but there was just something about his tone that set him on edge.
“That’s true, some babies if born underweight can be susceptible to illness, but not in every case Mr Eldridge, nor is there any reason to suppose that Emma was in any way affected by events during her pregnancy. Meningitis is just one of those kinds of illnesses, it’s difficult to pinpoint an exact cause. Someone can carry the bacteria without getting any of the symptoms and then pass it on without even knowing about it.”
Galen sighed, it wasn’t the sort of explanation he wanted but it would have to do since he couldn’t tell the Doc his real concerns and pressing the issue would no doubt only make him suspicious.
“Mr Eldridge,” Dr Greenblatt said gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. He could tell that Galen wasn’t satisfied with any of his explanations and felt the need to reassure him some more if only to put his mind at ease. “I understand how you’re feeling but your daughter is receiving the best treatment possible, I assure you. But trying to apportion blame isn’t going to help anyone. Right now the best thing that you can do is to get some rest and just try to stay positive. And I think your wife could do with your support, she doesn’t seem to be coping as well as she’s making out.”
Galen nodded, feeling a sting of guilt at the doctor’s words. He knew Kate was a taking all this badly despite doing her best at trying to stay positive, he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. “Yeah…” he said finally as the doctor smiled sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder once more before continuing down the corridor, “I suppose you’re right…”
Birth Day
Friday, 2 March 2007 - 12:34am
Los Angeles County Hospital – Intensive Care Paediatric Unit
“I think she looks a little better,” said Kate finally, her voice lilting and airy while her eyes grazed over the sleeping form of her daughter.
“Hmmm, maybe,” agreed Galen, taking a closer look. He sat on the opposite side of the bed from Kate and looked up, smiling at his wife, his hand reaching across the starched bed sheets to take hers. He squeezed her fingers gently and smiled again, looking apologetic and slightly optimistic for the first time in hours. Emma did look a bit better, her cheeks were flushed with a rosy glow and she seemed to sleep much easier though her breathing was still a little shallow.
Kate returned Galen’s smile and gently stroked his fingers as they held hands. For the first time since they’d arrived that morning things were looking better. Dr Greenblatt obviously thought so too, having lowered Emma’s medication to a slightly less potent dosage.
“I think things were getting a little crazy there for a while,” Kate said softly, her hand still enveloped in Galen’s. Tensions had been running high all day but for a moment she’d been sure that Galen was blaming her for what had happened and she just couldn’t have borne that, not since she still felt so guilty anyway. *I should have noticed sooner… I should have seen…*
“Yeah… I know… sorry,” Galen pursed his lips together awkwardly, reaching out to run his hand over Emma’s forehead, brushing back her wispy fringe. “I think someone could use a haircut,” he said thoughtfully, running the overgrown lengths of fiery red hair through his fingers.
Kate laughed a little, smiling down at Emma lovingly and imitating Galen’s caress, her own fingers trailing against her rosy cheeks. “Yeah I guess she does… would you like that Em?” she asked quietly, “Your first haircut… how grown up are you, hmmm?”
“We’ll be teaching her to ride her first bike before you know it…”
Kate smiled with delight, her eyes lighting up at the thought, “Sending her off to school…”
“College…”
“Her first boyfriend…”
Galen scoffed, “Over my dead body, no one’s ever gonna be good enough for my little girl.”
Kate bit her lip, holding back another flood of laughter and shaking her head at Galen’s remark. “I don’t know… she’s going to be a heartbreaker, I can tell.”
“Oh of course,” agreed Galen, smiling also and looking up at Kate, “Just like you huh?”
Kate laughed and shook her head, giving Galen’s hand another gentle squeeze between her thumb and index finger. “She’ll run rings around both of us, you know that right?”
“And we’ll let her… indulge her every whim…”
“I don’t care.”
“Me neither.” Galen reached out and stroked Emma’s head again, “I don’t care a bit.”
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP
Suddenly the electrocardiogram monitor began to beep frantically. Kate and Galen both looked up, seeing the normal green peaks and dips zigzagging crazily up and down the screen while a red alarm sounded loudly.
“Oh my god.” Kate moved to Emma as she began to cough, gasping and choking for air as though unable to breathe properly, “OH MY GOD GALEN DO SOMETHING!!” she cried urgently, “She can’t breathe, oh god, oh my god!! What should I do?”
Galen hesitated a moment before he slammed on the panic button and ran into the corridor shouting for help at the top of his voice. He returned shortly, followed by several nurses who ran over to Emma, checking her airways and adjusting the bed so that they could treat her properly. Galen took hold of Kate and pulled her away firmly, against her frantic protests, holding her tightly in his arms.
“What’s going on… WHAT’S THE MATTER?” she entreated the nurses desperately, her eyes wide in horror as the monitor continued to beep erratically.
Suddenly Dr Greenblatt marched his way into the room followed by a young intern, his face a grim mask of professionalism as he bent over Emma.
“Doctor…” breathed one of the nurses, her voice panicked and immediate. “BP is irregular, 120 rising to 128 …pupils are non-responsive…”
Dr Greenblatt took the place of the nurse, his eyes focused solely on his task, “She’s going into respiratory arrest, starting cardiopulmonary resuscitation…” He laced his fingers together and pressed firmly but cautiously against Emma’s heart to the count of three. “Bag her, now nurse!” he barked briskly to one of the nurses standing idly by the side of the bed.
The woman turned quickly at his order, grabbing a balloon shaped instrument and, fitting it into Emma’s mouth, began to squeeze the bulbous appendage steadily, supplying air into the baby’s lungs.
Greenblatt kept a watchful eye on the ECG, watching the heart rate continue to fall. “Give me 10cc’s of epinephrine…” he ordered briskly, “NOW!! Come on people, get your act together or we’ll lose her!”
“NO!” cried Kate desperately, struggling to free herself from Galen’s hold at the doctor’s thoughtless warning. She had to do something! She didn’t care if she was exposed as a witch, nothing mattered apart from Emma, she couldn’t lose her! “Let me go! Oh god! Emma!”
Dr Greenblatt glanced over his shoulder at the woman’s outburst, having not noticed them before. “GET THEM OUT OF HERE!” he shouted at a couple of nurses, gesturing towards the frantic couple.
“NO!” cried out Kate as an elderly nurse tried to lead her from the room. She fought to push her away, keeping her eyes fixed on Emma as the loud, unsteady beep of the heart monitor filled the room. “No… I want to stay! PLEASE!! Why don’t you do something??” she urged, pushing the nurse away a second time. “Don’t let her die! Oh my god!! Please… no…”
“Come on Ms, you can’t be here!” insisted the stout looking woman, enlisting Galen’s help to bundle Kate out of the room.
“No please don’t, please don’t! I have to be here! She needs me!” cried Kate uncontrollably as the two manhandled her from the scene. She pushed against both of them, Galen’s hands taking hold of her roughly by the waist and all but dragging her towards the corridor. Meanwhile Kate’s eyes struggled to keep sight of her baby as the crowd of men and women worked hard to save her life. She heard a high pitched whine as the defibrillator was charged up.
“Emma!!” she cried out desperately, tears rolling down her cheeks. “EMMA!!”
***FLASHBACK ~ONE YEAR AGO~
Thursday, 25 May 2006 - 1:44am - Los Angeles County Hospital***
It was late, or early depending on your point of view but one thing was for certain. It was an unsociable hour for a baby to arrive in the world. But arrive it was going to because at just before six o’clock that night Kate had felt the first contractions begin followed by her waters breaking. It had then been a long tiresome wait until midnight when the contractions began to come closer together and they had set out to arrive at the hospital.
“We left it too late!” moaned a heavily pregnant Kate, stifling the urge to groan as another contraction began and they entered the maternity block.
Galen ran to her side, a fluster of nerves and excitement as he took hold of her hand and guided her down into a wheelchair. “It’s okay honey, we, we’re here now… now…” he looked around frantically, “for gods sake where is everyone!!” He darted over to the checking in desk, barely able to stand still for longer than two minutes at a time.
Behind the desk a slothish overweight woman held a telephone to her ear, her face a mask of bland disinterest. It was late and she had another six hours until her shift ended, all she could think about was getting home and slipping into her nice warm bed with a cup of hot chocolate and a Tom Hanks flick playing on the tube.
“Come on… come on!” urged Galen as she slowly ended her call and replaced the handset on the crib. “My Kate is pregnant, I mean she’s in labour, the, the baby’s coming! It’s coming now!”
“Eldridge is it?” the woman asked slowly, picking up her clipboard and looking for the name.
“Yes! Yes!” Galen exclaimed impatiently, “it’s Eldridge. I called, I called about…” he glanced at his watch in annoyance, “about forty minutes ago to say we were on our way-”
“That’s okay Mr Eldridge,” interrupted the woman. She’d seen enough harassed husbands to know the drill, “Dr Norton is waiting for you, let’s get your wife checked in shall we?”
“No, no, she’s not my, I mean we’re not-” said Galen at the woman’s turn of address, then looked at Kate, so heavily pregnant, in the first stages of labour, and he loved her more now than ever. *Does it matter that we aren’t married?* he thought in confusion. Perhaps not, but there was one thing he did know, he liked the sound of her being called his wife.
“Galen!” Kate cried out anxiously, snapping him out of his thoughts as he returned to her side and took her hand.
“It’s okay honey, we’re going to get everything sorted out, okay?”
“I’ve called Dr Norton,” the stout woman announced as she waddled from behind the desk. “Let’s make you more comfortable shall we?” she said rather than asked. “It’s Catherine isn’t it?”
“…Kate…” she gasped, gritting her teeth against the pain as another contraction started up.
“Well let’s get you prepped,” she said efficiently, taking charge and pushing Kate along the pristine corridors while Galen, still in a fluster, followed behind, “we have a long night ahead of us.”
***Later that morning – 7:45am***
The night had long since left and morning had come bringing with it a glorious sunrise that had, for a short while, filled the delivery room with a brilliant orange glow. They had been there more than six hours now. A few other couples had come and gone with their own bundles of joy in that time, all of which was building up to a very tense mother-to-be and an increasingly anxious Galen.
Doctor Norton returned every half-hour or so to check on their progress, satisfied that everything was progressing as normal, much to Kate and Galen’s relief. Forty minutes ago things had began to develop much more rapidly and the doctor remained, coaching them as the time for their child to arrive approached.
Galen held Kate’s hand firmly as her contractions had begun to increase, becoming much stronger and closer together. As another took hold her fingers tightened, her nails digging into his flesh in a vice-like grip. He cried out as Kate twisted his hand painfully.
“AHH!” he screamed in agony, “Kate! Honey you’re breaking my fingers! AHHHHHHHHH!!” He finally managed to free his hand and shook his fingers in an effort to get the blood to circulate again. “Oh my god you have no idea how much that hurt!”
Kate looked up at him through narrowed eyes; sweat dripping from her brow and her face flushed from the exertion. “Oh I’m sorry honey, the last thing I want to do right now is cause you PAIN!” she spoke through gritted teeth, screaming in agony as another contraction took hold.
Galen looked apologetic, attempting to take her hand again but she pushed him away. “Don’t! Don’t touch me you bastard! You got me into THIS!,” she cried out again, breathing heavily. “Touch me again and I’ll break your fu-FUUHHHOOOHHHGOD!!!“
As Kate cried out again with another contraction Galen gently dried her face with a towel. “Don’t try to talk, just concentrate on your breathing, remember? In, out, in… out…”
The nurse turned to the doctor. “Okay she’s ready, fully effaced and dilated, contractions are barely three minutes apart.”
Doctor Norton nodded then smiled up at Kate from between her legs. “Okay Kate, let’s deliver your baby. You can start to push with your next contraction.”
Galen looked at her eagerly, again taking hold of her hand. She seemed a little more subdued, her contractions having eased for a short while giving her a time to relax. With his free hand Galen gently stroked her hair back from her face, “It’s okay now honey, just a little while longer, we’re on the home stretch.”
“Home stretch?” Kate groaned in agony, “You try squeezing a pot roast through your nose and tell me that’s a, a, a…” she began to cry out again, squeezing Galen’s hand tighter, grateful that she had him to hold on to. “I, I can’t do this!” she moaned suddenly, “it’s too… (groan) painful…” She began to breathe deeply in and out, working through the pain. Galen rubbed her back soothingly, gathering her long hair back from her face. “I can’t do it, it’ll just have to stay inside!” she announced wearily.
Galen began to gently massage her shoulders, giving her an encouraging kiss on the top of the head. “You can do it Kate, you can,” he said insistently in response to her repeated protests. “You’re doing brilliantly, just a little while longer then it’s over, I promise… just a little while.”
Kate looked up at him, she appeared exhausted and a bit scared, her face flushed and glistening with perspiration. “You promise? Just a little while longer?”
Galen nodded, holding her hand firmly as she squeezed it with renewed vigour. Another contraction started up and this time she began to push with all her strength.
“Okay, that’s good Kate, I can see the head,” the doctor announced. “You have to stop pushing Kate, just for a moment, let the contractions do the work okay? Easy does it.”
Galen quickly let go of her hand to get the first glimpse of their baby. He stood behind the doctor; his face suddenly looking pale as he saw the crown of the head beginning to emerge. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed, feeling a little queasy at the sight, “…Kate I… I, can’t believe… oh my god how are you doing this?!”
Kate groaned as she felt another contraction and the need to push again. Galen returned to her side and took her hand again, rubbing it encouragingly in both of his. “You need to breathe like in Lamaze remember?” He began panting and puffing as they had been taught in the antenatal classes, signalling for Kate to copy him.
She couldn’t help laughing a little at Galen’s face as he puffed and panted away like a blowfish. “I am not doing that!” she joked, laughing again until the next contraction hit her. As the pain coursed through her body, giving her that desperate need to push she had to struggle to hold it back, and began panting and puffing in the way that Galen had showed her.
“Just hold on Kate,” Doctor Norton reminded her from his position between her legs. “We’re almost ready for you to start pushing again, just breathe…” he reached between her legs and carefully helped guide the rest of the head out as another contraction squeezed the baby a little further on its journey. “Okay, the head’s out.” He looked up at the woman and smiled encouragingly, “you’re doing great Kate.”
“Hear that honey? You’re doing great!” Galen reiterated proudly, “you, you’re doing amazing! You should just see… it’s our baby!”
“Okay,” said the doctor after a short while, “go on Kate, push! Just a few good strong pushes and that’s it!”
“Push! Push! Come on Kate no time to wait! We’re gonna have our baby and… it will be great!” Galen sang encouragingly, receiving another annoyed glare from Kate. He grimaced, “I’m just going to not sing anymore okay?”
“I would really… APPRECIATE! … … that!!” Kate groaned, bearing down with all her strength. She was so tired now, exhausted, weary, she really didn’t think she could take any more-
Suddenly a high pitched crying filled the room.
Galen still held onto Kate yet watched eagerly as the baby was guided out. “Oh my god I can’t believe it!” he said in amazement, “She even has red hair…”
Kate gasped in relief as she could finally stop pushing. Her entire body felt utterly run through, still pulsing with the tingling force of post birth contractions. She breathed deeply to regain her breath yet watched with barely controlled impatience while the doctor checked the baby’s vital signs and a proud Galen got to cut the umbilical cord.
“It’s a girl, it’s a little girl,” he kept saying in complete wonder, returning to Kate’s side and squeezing her hand with a mixture of elation and pride.
“How is she?” Kate asked tiredly, feeling restless and anxious at the same time.
The doctor turned around, the tiny baby in his arms wrapped in a light pink blanket. “She’s a little underweight but perfectly formed,” he beamed, laying her into Kate’s arms. “Here you go, say hello to your new daughter…”
The two just smiled, carefully pulling the blanket back to get a better look at the tiny but perfectly proportioned features. The small nose twitched a little and the mouth scrunched up as she lightly dozed.
The doctor smiled, watching the peaceful scene, “We’ll just leave you on your own for a moment,” he said gently, dimming the harsh lighting to a more comfortable level, “I’ll see you soon.”
Kate and Galen smiled up at the doctor as he left, closing the door quietly behind him. They quickly returned their attention to the little girl who yawned adorably, stretching her tiny hand and fingers.
“I told you it was a girl…” Kate smiled exhaustedly, her face glowing with happiness and contentment as she beheld her child. “Wiccham women always have girls.”
Galen gazed down in wonder at Kate and the tiny pink wrinkled bundle that was their daughter. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered in disbelief, perching on the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around the two of them. He looked up into Kate’s face, his eyes full of love and adoration. “She’s perfect.” He returned his gaze to the baby as she opened her eyes, taking her first proper look at them with perfect blue eyes.
“She’s beautiful,” echoed Kate, tracing the soft curve of the baby’s cheek with the tip of her finger. “We still have to pick a name for her.”
Galen chuckled a little, reaching out to take hold of the tiny hand that gripped his single finger tightly. “Well so long as it isn’t Rosaline.”
Kate turned to look up at Galen; his eyes glowed with joy and pride, she’d never seen him so happy. “Or Marlene,” she said pointedly, teasing him a little.
They both sat in silence for a long moment. Finally Galen spoke, “You know my favourite aunt was called Emma, I always liked that name.”
Kate looked thoughtful for a moment, “Emma… …Emma?” She smiled, looking down at the little girl who had closed her eyes again and was now sleeping soundly, exhausted from her long journey. “I like it…” she said, brushing her fingers gently through the baby’s wispy red locks of hair, “She looks like an Emma…”
***END FLASHBACK - PRESENT DAY***
The memory flashed before Kate’s eyes in an instant as she was dragged from the room, the sound of the defibrillator whining in the background against the incessant beeping of the heart monitor.
”Charge the paddles to 15…”
”Clear!”
”Nothing… charging to 20… give me another amp of adrenaline…”
”Clear!”
Tears streamed down Kate’s face as the doors swung shut, blocking out the scene, though the sound of urgent voices and equipment being passed around still echoed loudly in the silence of the night, filtering into the desolate hospital corridors. Kate turned and collapsed into Galen’s arms, feeling his strong embrace tighten around her as she buried her face into his broad shoulder.
The elderly nurse stood awkwardly between the couple and the room. “There’s a family room just down the corridor, if you wait there Dr Greenblatt will come talk to you… soon.” A sympathetic grimace spread across her face as she beheld the husband and wife. The woman still had her face buried in the coat of the man, while his face looked hard and uncompromising. Gently, she placed her hand behind them, guiding them in the direction of the waiting room. “Why don’t I show you the way?”
Goodnight Angel
Friday, 2 March 2007 - 12:46am
Los Angeles County Hospital – Intensive Care Paediatric Unit
The hospital was always this way at night thought Nurse Ellis as she made her way down the deserted corridor. There was always something going off through the day but at night that all seemed to slow down, people too. Everyone was sickeningly quiet. She knew it was just so the patients could get some sleep but it didn’t feel that way, it felt as though it were a mark of respect for those that wouldn’t make it till the morning, that they deserved to die in peace.
Nurse Ellis smiled sympathetically at the anxious looking couple as she passed the family waiting room. They were all alone in there except for an equally anxious looking elderly male. *Baby dying,* she thought to herself morbidly, her head turning to watch the scene as she passed. It was the only reason they hadn’t been sent home at this time of night.
Galen paced the room anxiously, occasionally stealing a glance at Kate who sat silently beside Jack who had returned a few minutes ago only to be filled in on recent events, much to his dismay. Galen turned away, not wanting either to see how worried he was. They’d been waiting almost twenty minutes now since they’d been evicted from Emma’s room, her condition having deteriorated considerably despite everyone’s best hopes. No one had come to see them yet.
Jack took his daughter’s hand in his own and squeezed it gently, looking up at her. Kate’s eyes barely acknowledged his gesture; instead they stared blankly into the distance while Galen continued to pace. He sighed, squeezing Kate’s hand again and offering her a sympathetic smile. It was the waiting that seemed to add insult to injury, that and the not knowing. Meanwhile the mind raced on, anticipating every possible occurrence.
In Kate’s mind she could see it now, Dr Greenblatt entering the room, a self-satisfied smile spread across his face – and why shouldn’t he? He’d performed a near miracle in that room, bringing that dear child back from the brink of death, it really was nothing short of a miracle and he’d been the one to make it happen! Wonderful, talented, intelligent Dr Greenblatt!
As the door opened slowly and the elderly doctor walked in Kate and Galen both snapped out of their various malaise. Galen stopped pacing and Kate rose to her feet and while both seemed distanced from the other, each anxiously awaited the doctor’s news.
His face said everything they needed know; Kate could see it in his eyes even before he opened his mouth. It was nothing like she’d imagined, there was no sunshine flooding the room and no inspirational music to lift the soul.
“I’m sorry,” Dr Greenblatt mumbled rather redundantly, his aged eyes crinkling even more than usual.
“Oh God!” cried Kate desperately, collapsing into Galen’s arms as she began to sob uncontrollably again. She grasped his coat tightly in her fists in an effort to find something solid to hold on to as tears rolled freely down her cheeks and she sobbed, burying her face in the warm folds of his coat once more.
Galen wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, feeling every wretched tremble and shudder that wracked through her body. He could feel his own tears pricking the back of his eyes but he fought them back with as much will as he could muster for the moment. Continuing to hold Kate he pressed the side of his cheek against her hair, screwing his eyes up in a painful gesture while the rest of his face, his jaw and his forehead seemed to tighten as he fought to control his emotions.
The doctor watched on uncomfortably. It was the worst part of his job and it never got any easier, no matter how many times he had to do it. “Emma went into respiratory arrest… which we were unable to revive her from, leading to a fatal cardiac arrhythmia. I’m so sorry, there was nothing we could do…”
Kate looked up, peering from behind the layers of thick wool, her face red and wet with tears. She fought desperately to hold them back, wiping her face dry with her hands. “Can we see her?” she choked out, her voice barely holding together.
The doctor nodded solemnly and led them back to the small single room off the main ICU. The lights were dimmed when they entered, easier on the eyes than the usual bright glare and Kate noticed that all the ‘equipment’ had been removed. Under the dull beam of the bedside lamp Emma lay, her tiny body motionless and silent.
Kate gasped suddenly, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she choked and wept in sorrow. Her breaths came short and ragged, trying to cope with the extreme emotion and failing miserably. Slowly she walked forward, separating herself from Galen’s embrace. “She looks like she’s sleeping…”
Through her tears she smiled sadly, reaching out tentatively and stroking back Emma’s fine hair with trembling fingers. Suddenly she turned back, her watery eyes focusing on the doctor. “Would it be okay if I held her?” she asked nervously, wiping the unshed tears from her eyes.
Dr Greenblatt nodded kindly, “Of course, here…” He walked forwards to the bed and gently picked up the baby, laying her in Kate’s arms.
Kate smiled, sniffling back more tears as she held her little girl for the last time and carefully rocked her back and forth, brushing back her hair and trailing a hesitant finger against her cheek.
Dr Greenblatt glanced at the silent husband who still hung back in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the sight of his wife cradling their dead child. “Mr Eldridge?” he urged quietly, his own eyes questioning and encouraging at the same time.
Galen blinked and took several awkward steps inside, still unable to remove his gaze from the sight of Kate holding Emma in her arms, rocking her back and forth like he had seen her do a hundred times before.
Dr Greenblatt smiled awkwardly, retreating from the couple towards the door. “You can stay as long as you like,” he said gently with an encouraging nod before quietly closing the door behind himself.
Tears began to well up in Kate’s eyes again as she continued to hold Emma gently, reluctant to ever let her go. Her long fingers carefully stroking her cheek in a repetitive motion. “Oh my baby…” she whispered quietly, blinking and sending tears rolling steadily down her cheeks to drip off the end of her nose. In that moment Kate struggled to stifle a sob and lowered herself to the floor as she felt her legs grow weak, no longer strong enough to hold her weight.
Galen moved closer as he saw his wife crumple beneath her burden. He wanted to crouch at her side, reach forward and lay a kiss on Emma’s forehead, catch that last breath of baby scent, gather the last warmth from her skin and feel that fluffy, fine hair fall between his fingers. He watched as Kate performed these small, seemingly futile acts, taking those things that he so longed for for herself. And his feet stood still, rooted to the spot an uncomfortable distance away and wouldn’t allow him to proceed any further.
He watched with barely controlled irritation as Kate continued to smile down at the baby, the dead, lifeless baby that had been their daughter, and pressed her index finger against Emma’s squishy nose and held her tiny fingers in her own as though she were still alive.
Kate closed her eyes and brushed her own cheek against Emma’s hair, her embrace tightening slightly, pressing her closer against her breast. “Goodnight angel,” she whispered softly, a single tear rolling down her cheek again as she leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Sleep well.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 2nd, 2007- Rumanian Woods- 10:17 pm***
CRACK
Yolanda sat in the Lautari household’s living room by herself, shuffling and reshuffling her deck of royal blue tarot cards, her eyes never leaving the fireplace where a red-orange fire raged on. Although she continued to do her shuffling with quick precision, her thoughts were somewhere else. Her rich brown eyes reflected the glow and didn’t seem to blink until a voice called out to her in her native tongue, “Here, púridaia, take this.”
The aging visionary broke from her trance-like state to see her youngest grandchild, Polina, standing there, her arms outstretching a cup of tea. Yolanda placed her cards in her lap and took the tea from Polina, thanking her.
She took a sip from the freshly brewed tea and gave a subtle sigh as she let it wash down her throat. The elder Lautari woman looked upon her granddaughter. “Sit down, Polina, and tell your old púridaia what’s on your mind,” she told her.
Polina sat herself of the loveseat next to her grandmother’s rocking chair, fixing her navy blue skirt (a part of her school uniform). She twirled the end of her dark brown hair, which had a slight curl, as she looked down at her feet. The sixteen year old girl remained silent for a certain amount of time before she finally spoke, “What… what happened five nights ago here? I heard something break, and I tried being a good girl and not ask anything, but I can no longer bear it. Please, púridaia, tell me.”
Yolanda sighed as she drank from the cup. “It is none of your concern, Polina. Go to your room and read your magazines and such. Forget that that ever occurred,” she told her.
Polina’s jaw dropped. “But, púridaia-” she began when Yolanda cut her off.
“Don’t ‘but púridaia’ me. Go do homework, or something of that sort.”
Polina, in a fit of rage, hastily left her seat and trailed out of the room in a huff. Her grandmother just rolled her eyes and continued drinking her tea.
Suddenly, the tea cup dropped from her hands and shattered into pieces across the floor. Yolanda grasped her hair tightly and with held herself from screaming as she dropped to her knees.
Dmitri and Apollonija, who were busy paying bills in the kitchen, ran out to the living room. The moment they saw Yolanda, Dmitri ran to his mother’s side and shouted to his wife, “Bring a wet rag and some water! Quickly!”
Apollonija nodded her head and when back to the kitchen. She returned a minute later, to see Yolanda beginning to come to. Apollonija rushed over to her husband and mother-in-law. She placed the cool, wet cloth on Yolanda’s forehead as Dmitri layed her down on the couch.
Yolanda flickered her eyes open slowly. She breathed in and out heavily. Dmitri was kneeling next to her. He looked his mother in the eyes and spoke to her in a low, straight to the point voice, “What did you see, mother? What images were sent to you this time?”
The aging visionary groaned as she remembered what she saw. “I saw… a woman. A young looking woman… I swear I’ve seen her before… But she was being attacked by a man… he seemed to be trying to rape her… she was escaping some sort of place… the woman was attacked by a large animal only found in jungle… she’s now passed out… she’s being rescued…” she went on, her hand to her head.
Yolanda then stopped speaking. “They’ve already happened…” she said quietly.
From outside the room, a voice called out, “What!?”
All heads turned to see Polina standing there, listening intently. Apollonija stiffly pointed out of the room and shouted, “Out! Now! No ifs, ands, or buts about it!”
Polina stamped her foot in frustration, imitating a four year old, and marched upstairs.
Dmitri turned back to his mother. “What do you mean, ‘they’ve already happened’?” he asked quietly.
Yolanda groaned. *Where’s Enzo when you need him?* “The visions. They’ve already happened. Usually I see things yet to occur, not visa versa! These events happened days ago. Dmitri, I… I just cannot think about this anymore. But that girl… she seemed so familiar. I swear I’ve seen her before…” she told him and shook her head. Nothing made sense anymore.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 3rd, 2007
His shaking hand retracted the key from his pocket. *Get a hold on yourself,* Cole urged himself, as he went to twist the handle.
He stopped.
Something inside him didn’t want to go back in, back to mourning in his room, which is what he knew he would. Placing the key back in his pocket, the teen turned and made his way down to the ground level and out the door. The air was crisp, but nevertheless the night was inviting, tempting. A short walk, that’s what he needed; a moment to clear his mind of Chance’s death, and Alessa’s overwhelming sorrow.
***
“Reah?” Quin knocked irritably at the apartment door, “Reah! Let me in!”
“Um… Sorry Quin! Now’s… not exactly the-AH!…” There was a hushed ‘stop that’ accompanied by giggling that could be heard on the other side of the door.
“…Best time,” Reah finally finished.
Quin sighed: Damen was over… *Again!*
"Why don't you go to Darian and Cole's, or… Hey!… something?"
She froze at the mention of Cole's name, staring wide eyed at the door and shaking her head profusely. “How about I just go wander the dark and dangerous streets, again, shall I?”
“Have fun!”
Quin’s shoulders slumped. She doubted Reah had even heard her - no… she’d bet money on the fact!
Wearily, she turned about and wondered aimlessly back down the stairwell, barred from the entry of her own home.
Cole had only taken two steps, three at the most, before he heard the door of 1318 Poplar open. *It better not be Darian telling me it's not safe out here,* he thought desolately, before turning slowly to see who it was. The breath vanished from his lungs as the small, fragile form of Quin stepped out into the darkness of the evening… His darkness.
He thought for a moment to just turn and hope she wouldn’t see him, but a second later, the opportunity had passed. The girl’s wide eyes were now staring back at him, equally shocked.
She was frozen stiff - again! - suddenly wishing she had taken up Reah’s suggestion of going to their apartment, and she would have just found Darian. *Stupid Murphy’s law!*
Christ, what was she supposed to do now? She was probably the last person Cole wanted to see, after the other night. Probably thought her nauseating, or diseased, or something. Why did she do what she did? Quin couldn’t help but feel, now, that she’d driven a solid wedge between their still-forming friendship. The worst part of it being, that it should never have happened in the first place! She still belonged to Trent. At least… she hoped she did. He’d been her last life line that had kept her going.
And aside from all that; Cole didn’t like her, not in that way. At least… she didn’t think so…. Of course now it didn’t matter, because she was sure he didn‘t like her anymore, at all.
Why couldn’t the earth just open up beneath her, right now, and swallow her whole? She wouldn’t have to deal with any of this, then.
“Um… Hey Cole,” she intoned softly, shying away from the eye contact, then stopped herself. She needed to face up to him. Reah faced demons nearly every night and cheated death more times than she had fingers to count. And Quin couldn’t even handle this?
Sternly, she forced herself to address him. “H-how are you?” It was a notable effort, but a weak one at that.
Cole’s throat constricted. After what had happened, he didn’t know how to face her. She must have thought he was a complete loser, a weeping, moaning kid, clinging to anything and anyone for support. He didn’t know why, or how they had ended up kissing, but he knew it would affect their friendship; if she still even considered him a friend. “Quin... I, umm, I was just headed out for a walk. What are you doing?” he finally managed to choke out.
“Um… same!” Her mind raged in a fit of panic. *Calm yourself, Quin.* Taking a deep breath, she tried explaining herself. “I thought fresh, I could get…” *CALM!!!* “Fresh air.”
“Well, do you uhh… wanna walk with me?” he asked, petrified that the girl would just turn away in disgust. Yet he had asked nonetheless. One side of him hoped she did run the other way, leaving him to walk with his thoughts, but on the other hand he wanted to make sure they still had some sort of connection together.
Quin sighed, her body visibly relaxing… to an extent. She was still tense enough that a rubber band couldn’t contest. Though he was probably just being nice, Quin was grateful that he hadn’t just spat at her and walked away, letting her know for sure that she’d ruined their friendship.
“Um… okay!” A flickering smile lit her face momentarily. “Fresh air in good company could be nice.” She prayed that she’d stop saying stupid things like that aaany time now: otherwise he’d be sure to run away, avoiding future contact with her at every cost.
*'Good company.' Did she mean that? Maybe she was just being polite.* Yet he didn’t press the issue, instead he waited till she had caught up to him, and then continued walked away from Poplar.
At first they said nothing, just basking in the awkwardness of the scenario. Then Cole managed to gather the courage to look her way. The first glance only lasted a second, the second a tad longer, the third longer still. Finally he cut the silence with the only thing that came to mind.
“It’s a bit chilly. Are you cold?”
How profound.
Quin was startled by the sudden conversation, but was grateful someone had said something. She felt such an idiot, stealing glances of him before quickly darting away so he didn’t noticed. “Um, no. I’m fine. I’m used to the streets. I…” She looked at Cole again, this time catching his eyes before she turned her gaze to the cracked pavement below them. “I know how it feels.”
Quin cursed herself inwardly for bringing up “the streets”. It was bad enough when she remembered her life just before Tash had found her and Reah had taken her in. Helping Cole remember his recent homeless days, on top of everything else he’d had to deal with lately, was something she needn’t have done if she’d just taken a moment to think about what she was saying.
Quickly trying to change the topic, she pressed on. “So how have you been…you know with everyth-”
“I don’t want to talk about it, ok?” he replied quietly.
Quin’s face reddened. *Double curse. Only I could change a bad topic into a horrible one!*
Looking at his companion’s expression, Cole realized he had embarrassed her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. It’s just… it’s been really hard, and tonight I need to just forget everything,” he said apologetically.
In response, the girl just smiled meekly, and lowered her gaze to the pavement again.
Once again, the conversation fell silent. Before, the two had been able to discuss a variety of topics openly: music, television, the annoying quirks of Reah and Darian, but now, neither could think of a single thing to say. And why was that? Both knew why – the kiss.
The hair on Quin’s neck began to stand end, and something tugged at the edge of her mind. She promptly snuffed out the rising panic. Now was not the time. What was done was done, and now she needed to fix it. How, exactly, she didn’t know: but Cole was hurting and she hadn’t been much of a help to lessen the pain. Unfortunately, though, the distant, familiar feeling didn’t subside, but grew with alarming intensity. Quin’s now pounding head struggled to ignore and cope with the alarming pressure.
RUN! RUN!
Unbeknownst to either, her pace had slowed dramatically and she’d fallen behind.
“Quin,” Cole started, taking a deep breath as they continued passed an alleyway. “Maybe we should talk about..”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Cole spun around, shocked at the sudden outburst. What he saw, however, was even more shocking: A vampire had thrown the young girl into the alley, and was now oozing with delight as he stalked forward.
“QUIN!” The boy didn’t think for a second before he rushed at the monster. “STAY AWAY FROM HER!”
In the blink of an eye, the vampire turned his attention to the charging teen, and easily swatted the annoyance away.
Oumph! All the air flew from his lungs, as he crashed painfully into the side of the brick building on the right.
“Stupid idiot. At first I was only going to eat her, now I’m thinking I’ll take some dessert,” the vampire chuckled menacingly.
*Just use magic,* a voice came from inside, pushing him to call upon the forces he vowed to stay away from. “NO!” he screamed, pushing the temptations from his mind as he picked himself up and charged for a second time. He would handle this without magic.
“Is this a joke?” the vampire’s raised eyebrow seemed to say before his hand shot out and wrapped around the boy’s throat.
“You know you’re lucky, the boyfriend of the last girl I had ran away screaming,” he laughed, turning to address Quin.
“Well who wouldn’t run away from an ugly mug like yours,” a deep voice rumbled from the shadows of the alley way. A second later a tall, broad, feral looking man stepped out, a scowl on his rugged face. “Let the kids go.”
“Ouuuuu, I’m shaking in my boots. News flash, I’m a vampire, creature of the night. I don’t run from humans,” he spat, as he tossed Cole into the man, now more intent on killing the stranger.
“T.t.t.thanks,” Cole managed to sputter.
The man didn’t even bother looking down at the teen. Instead, he simply pushed him out of the way. “Get out of here boy.”
The vampire cracked his knuckles. “You’re a dead man.”
“Who ever said I was a man?” The man closed his eyes, and when they opened, they were no longer those of a human, they were those of a beast. His body followed in suit, growing taller, wider, more muscled. Within seconds, the transformation was complete.
“A werewolf,” Cole whispered half awed, half terrified.
Quin grabbed the boy's hand and pulled him from his stupor, “RUN!”
****
“Oh man… what… what just happened?” Cole gasped through deep breaths as he opened the door to 1318 Poplar Avenue and once inside, slumped tiredly to the ground to catch his breath.
“I don’t really know,” Quin responded confusedly as she plopped down beside him. Looking over next to her, she grimaced slightly. “You’re hurt,” she remarked tenderly as she reached out to feel the bruise that had started to form where his face had smacked against the wall.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
Quin’s gentle features frowned, her outstretched fingers pausing a mere inch from the boy's already purple skin before they dropped limply into her lap. Pulling her eyes from his youthful profile, she continued to sit in quiet reflection, gazing distantly at the cold, tiled floor before her.
“You… you charged a vampire to save me.”
It sounded like a big thing the way she had said it, but to Cole there had never been a question of what he should have done. “He was going to hurt you,” he said simply.
“…Thank you.”
“Cole?” Darian’s voice came ringing down the hall from the stairwell.
The boy frowned as he looked to the direction of the voice. “He’s going to get all worked up over this,” Cole sighed. “I… I better go and get the freaking out over with.” Giving a brief smile to Quin, he managed to pick himself up and trudge down the hallway.
“Cole,” Quin called out quietly. “I’ll see you in school ok?” At the puzzling look she received from the boy's face, Quin couldn’t help but bite her warming smile to contain her amusement, then sheepishly averted her eyes, swiftly ducking her head down at her perfectly crossed legs.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Nikolai’s Apartment
Evening
Nikolai was not feeling well when he stumbled home, or at least felt like he stumbled home.
He was only thankful that nobody saw him return home that evening. Meeting with the group had been rather draining on him, despite the meeting being small. The revelation of Chance’s death had come as enough of a shock the week before, despite the fact that Nikolai did not know him personally. Mostly it had been shock that week; this week, it was still a bit of missing and the numb feeling of loss that still permeated in varying degrees, all mixing together to amplify Darian’s feelings of regret and self-loathing.
That was bad enough, then came the revelation that Alessa had been apparently taken by the Council. It had been all he could do to remain after that, the thought that the disappearance of one member – someone, he learned, he had met only once before – had been taken by the Watchers. Inventing an excuse, he made it a point to slip out of the meeting.
Hearing a knock at the door, Nikolai jumped in surprise, drawn out of the residual stupor that so many strong emotions brought him to. *Oh crap! I can’t believe that I forgot.* He was supposed to be meeting Alicia this evening and no doubt when he ignored the ringing phone- *Just be honest with her.* It wasn’t like he had anything to worry about.
Reaching the door, he was suddenly reminded exactly what he had forgotten about when he saw Alicia there in the lovely evening gown. It was enough to make him forget, at least momentarily, about the wash of emotions. Surprise was evident on her face when she saw him still standing there in his street clothes. “Kolya! What’s wrong? We’re going to be late and you aren’t even dressed.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he got out, sighing. “I’ve just had far too many powerful emotions hit me today.” That was an understatement, he thought. He invited her inside, trying to dash off to his room to change as quickly as possible for Don Giovani.
When he emerged again, Alicia looked slightly concerned. “Are you sure you feel up to this?”
“Yeah, I just need to relax,” he replied, gently taking her hand in his. Or at the very least, he hoped that it would work, but he still couldn’t shake the small nagging feeling. She was a Watcher after all and- *No. She would never approve of something like kidnapping Alessa, she knows what you are and is dating you after all.*
By the time they reached the opera, the worries had left Nikolai’s mind completely.
Galen, King of Denial
Friday, 2 March 2007 – 7:30am
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Galen stood in the bathroom and leaned against the vanity unit, peering at his reflection in the mirror. He’d been up for the past hour already, unable to sleep. In fact when he had slept he’d dreamt that he was back at the hospital again waiting to hear from Dr Greenblatt. So at 6am when the sun began to creep over the horizon and the birds had started chirping in the branches of the giant oak just outside their bedroom window he’d finally relented and awoken.
Two dark eyes stared back at him from the mirror, looking red and sore and weary beyond his 39 years. He brushed at his messy hair, grooming it into some semblance of order on his way back to the bedroom. Kate was still asleep in bed just as he’d left her. Her long red curls loosely framed the pale curves of her tear streaked face and tumbled across the pillow. He couldn’t help but think back to last night again, when they’d returned home she’d been in such a state he’d had to give her a sleeping tablet just so she could get some rest. Reflecting on his own restless night he wished he’d done the same for himself.
Galen sighed tiredly and yawned as he straightened his tie out and slipped his jacket on. He felt nauseous in the pit of his stomach but since waking he’d thought of nothing but getting out of the confines of the house. He couldn’t spend all day here with Kate and Jack, not when they’d want to talk and more importantly expect him to talk. When he thought about it a tightness spread across his chest causing him to start panicking. No, he had to get away.
He took one last glance at his wife before picking up his pistol from the nightstand. If he was lucky a big case might just land in his lap and he could worry about someone else’s problems for a while.
Jack was in his room reading a rather dog-eared copy of Conrad’s The Heart of Darkness. It wasn’t the first time he’d read it, nor even the third or fifth time. He’d lost count in truth, but still continued to re-read it whenever he felt the urge. He’d read throughout the night…
I have wrestled with death. It is the most unexciting contest you can imagine. It takes place in an impalpable greyness, with nothing underfoot, with nothing around, without spectators, without clamour, without glory, without the great desire of victory, without the great desire of defeat, in a sickly atmosphere of tepid scepticism, without much belief in your own right, and still less in that of your adversary.
Suddenly he put the book down, hearing footsteps on the corridor. He rose from his chair and ventured out. Jack frowned, watching from the top of the stairs as he saw Galen heading down the hall and grabbing his coat from the hat stand by the door.
“Hey!” he called out, startling Galen and halting him dead in his tracks. Jack took a moment to catch up to him but when he did his face was as dark as thunder. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re never going to work, today of all days!”
Galen just sighed, rolling his eyes a little in annoyance at the old man. Why couldn’t they just leave him the fuck alone!? “What is it Jack?”
Jack glowered at Galen, his eyes becoming hooded and dark, “I could tell something was wrong; last night when we got home you were so cool, cold, you barely said two words.”
“Wow, well give the man a cigar! Of course something’s fucking wrong! My daughter died last night, I’m sorry if I seem a little out of sorts.”
“Drop the attitude, Galen. You know what I’m talking about,” snapped Jack at Galen’s insolent tone. “Look, I know what’s going on here,” he said, his voice suddenly turning sympathetic and gentle. “But blocking out how you feel won’t make the pain any easier to cope with. I’ve been there Galen, I’ve done it. In the end it just makes matters a whole lot worse.”
Galen sighed, “I don’t need a lecture-”
“And what about Kate?” Jack cut in, not willing to let Galen just brush his concerns aside. “She’s your wife or had you forgotten? She needs you, now more than ever. Don’t cut her out Galen, I don’t care what you feel, you have a duty-”
“Don’t talk to me about duty!” snapped Galen angrily, “You’re not the one who had to put- who had to cope with her crying all night long. All night, Jack. If that’s not doing my duty I don’t know what is.”
“Just listen to yourself!” Jack implored, feeling powerless beyond all belief. Part of him didn’t even want to be having this conversation. After all, how a man chose to grieve was his own business. He was just concerned with what sort of effect this would have on his daughter. “I don’t want to tell you what to do…” he began, backing off a tad in his approach, it was obvious Galen was set on his path and being aggressive with him would probably do more harm than good.
“Then don’t,” said Galen simply, his key turning in the door as he opened it. “You don’t know how I’m feeling right now so just… save it for Kate. She’s the one who needs you. Not me.”
Jack sighed, watching Galen go. He was about to head into the kitchen when the sound of bare feet on floorboards made him look up. He frowned, seeing a glimpse of Kate’s nightgown and the muffled sound of tears as his daughter ran back to her room and shut the door. Jack shook his head in dismay, closing his eyes momentarily before going on about his business.
Tash Comforts Kate
Friday 2nd March 2007 - 8:50am
Tash rode her motorbike slowly down Birch Street, her senses out searching for anything untoward, just in case. She’d rung Kate’s house twice yesterday, both after the meeting and later that night, but there had been no answer, just the machine with Kate’s cheery voice telling her that she and Galen were unavailable, but she could leave a message. Well, she had. The second one no doubt sounded a little more concerned than the first; after all, it was unlike either Kate or Galen to skip a meeting without passing on a message of some sort. Especially with Alessa’s recent kidnapping, Tash carried a knot of fear in her stomach, and rather than wait any longer she’d decided to scope out the house and see if anything seemed amiss.
Birds twittered in the trees, a soft breeze lifted leaves on the pavement, and Kate’s car was in the driveway. The house looked peaceful enough, at least. Advancing up the path to the front door, Tash hoped they’d just got drunk and forgot or something. She didn’t mind looking foolish, so long as her friends were ok.
Pressing the doorbell, Tash prayed to whatever gods were listening that someone would be home.
Kate leaned against the counter in the kitchen. She knew she’d come in there for some reason but couldn’t for the life of her remember what that was. Ever since awaking that morning she’d wandered about in something of a trance, not really knowing where she was or what she was doing. On more than one occasion she’d found herself just holding her breath, as though time would stand still if her chest did not rise and fall, just as, if her eyes were closed then nothing really existed in the world except a deep and empty darkness.
She didn’t hear the doorbell ring the first time. The noise soaked into the rest of the house just like the sound of the wind blowing in the trees outside or the ticking of the clock in the hallway and the dripping tap in the bathroom.
As the bell rang for a third time, insistently, the dulcet tones echoing in the empty shell of a home, Kate looked up, drawn out of her random imaginings. She had to think for a moment what the sound meant, because it did mean something. It was a warning or an indication that she had to do something, had to respond, had to answer. The door. And suddenly she was moving, her legs walking independently without her realising and taking her through the kitchen and beyond into the living room, to the hall. She pulled back the heavy oak door, a blast of cool air hitting her face.
“Oh… Tash…” Kate rubbed her forehead distractedly, standing aside to let her friend in. “I got your messages, I meant to call you but – well, we didn’t get home till late…”
While she’d been standing outside, Tash had felt her sense of foreboding grow stronger. Something was wrong. With her mental feelers at full sensitivity she could hardly miss the pain and desolation coming from inside the house, and had to block a lot of it out again. And when the door opened and she saw Kate’s hollow eyes, she feared the worst.
“Kate, is everything all right? I... what’s wrong? Is Galen ok? Jack? Emma?” Tash almost reeled at the emotional turmoil her question raised, and she reached out to hold her friend. “Kate?”
Kate could barely cope with Tash’s frantic questions as they walked to the living room, especially hearing Emma’s name like that. It felt as though she’d been kicked and was struggling for air again. She leaned against the back of a chair, feeling Tash’s concerned eyes probing her, reading her aura or whatever - Kate didn’t care.
*NO, NOTHING IS ALL RIGHT!* she thought, feeling raw liquid emotion seeping deep into her bones. *NOTHING WILL EVER BE ALL RIGHT AGAIN! SHE’S DEAD!* Then the panic came again, painful, clutching at her chest, *Oh god… …she’s dead… my baby… why? Why her?*
Kate breathed deeply, releasing a long sigh from her lips, and looked up at Tash. *Why can’t you see it? Why do I have to say it aloud? Why can’t you just know?*
She could feel herself falling inside and couldn’t bear it, couldn’t feel that again like last night when the grief had swallowed her completely. It hadn’t happened yet, not even after Galen had left her and Jack too. Why had they left her? Why did everyone go when she needed them the most?
“We didn’t get home till late…” she said again finally, closing her eyes… yes, darkness… wonderful.
Tash flinched with the power of Kate’s thoughts. They were so loud they sounded like shouting. Then the meaning sank in and Tash felt the blood drain from her face. She enveloped Kate in a hug and pulled her down onto the sofa, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes. But Kate’s eyes were dry and Tash could feel the woman fading, her thoughts disappearing into a black hole. She needed to keep Kate in the present, and she also needed to hear the terrible news to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.
“Kate, I’m here now. I’ll stay with you, if you like. But please, you have to tell me about Emma.”
Kate let Tash hold her for a while; it was nice feeling that closeness even if it was from the wrong person. She pressed her cheek against Tash’s shoulder; it was hard and muscular even with the thick fabric of her t-shirt between them. Somehow that made it better. Tash was strong, so strong, like a rock, like an anchor, holding her in place. And she could breathe. Even feeling Tash’s emotions, varied and hesitant, not even certain of what she felt, still they were tangible, firm, solid. Kate felt her hold on Tash tighten.
*Keep me strong like you…* she begged silently, knowing Tash would hear her nevertheless.
“Emma’s dead,” she whispered quietly, still keeping her cheek pressed against Tash’s shoulder. “She died last night…”
Even though she already knew it, hearing it made Tash’s heart break. “Oh, Kate, I’m so sorry. She was...” Tash had to stop for a while, unable to speak through her tears. She felt Kate’s grip tighten and hugged her friend as firmly as she could without hurting her.
“But where’s Galen? Shouldn’t he be here, with you?”
Kate pulled away gently feeling suddenly cold at the mention of Galen’s name. She’d watched him leave that morning, seen him get ready and go out to work as though nothing had happened and yet she couldn’t blame him. She just felt numb and maybe kind of jealous that he could still function while she had to remind herself to breathe in and out.
“He had to go in to work…” she explained, feeling a slight sting at her own words, “An emergency, he couldn’t get out of it.” She knew it was a lie but what else could she say? She didn’t know because he hadn’t been there when she’d woken?
“Work? What? But... what else could be more important than being with you today?” Tash wasn’t sure, with all the strong flaring of Kate’s aura, but the words didn’t quite ring true. “Did he say anything before he left? Did he...?” Her anger was rising to the point where she was torn between trying to work out just where Galen had gone – if he really had gone to work, or somewhere else – and wanting to find him and beat him to a pulp for being so insensitive.
Kate’s distress was almost painful to behold, and Tash forced herself to slow down her words and breathe more calmly. “Never mind, Kate. I’m sure he’ll be back soon. I’ll stay with you in the meantime. You shouldn’t be alone today.”
Kate nodded in assent; mostly she just felt too weak to argue and would have gone along with anything that Tash had suggested at that moment. A part of her didn’t want to be alone, but then another part did, didn’t want to have to perform for someone, pretend and act normal when all the while inside she was a raging storm just below the tranquil surface. She still hadn’t hit that point yet but she could feel it coming; boiling, furious rage burned deep in her stomach just waiting to be released.
But for now it was pressed low, anaesthetised… all she felt was a penetrating numbness that covered her entire body. Vacant and empty. And was that normal? That was the worst thing of all, not knowing, feeling… wrong somehow, broken. If only someone could tell her how she was supposed to be feeling…
Kate breathed steadily, just concentrating on filling her lungs with air rather than the unrelenting questions and uncertainties that flooded her being.
“Thank-you,” she said after a while. She was grateful, had to be; Tash had lost Victor not long ago and if she felt even a small portion of what she felt right now… “I was thinking… I mean, well, I’ve barely had time to think and, I don’t know, it’s the only thing I can seem to focus on because I know it’s something that has to be done. Jack agrees with me too, he’ll be back soon I think…” She looked up suddenly, as though expecting him to arrive at that moment.
Kate frowned, squeezing her own hand between her thumb and index finger relentlessly, she realised that she didn’t know what she’d just said, had opened her mouth and just let the words spill out on their own accord.
“We’re… I’m planning to arrange the funeral for Wednesday, if you’re available I’d really like it if you could come…” she looked up then, knowing that her words has made some sense, “…and, if you could tell the others I’d really appreciate it.”
Tash nodded. “Of course I shall. I can help with the arrangements too, if you want. Kate... I have to know.” She paused, hoping her question would solve two problems. Tash could feel the pressure building inside Kate and knew she had to let it out soon, and hoped that talking about Emma would bring it to the surface. And she also needed to know the answer to the question.
“Kate, what was it that killed Emma – how did she die?”
Kate shook her head dismally; she could understand Tash’s curiosity. Maybe she thought… maybe she thought it was the result of some evil force yet unknown, or part of an elaborate curse… The truth was it was neither, just a cruel and hurtful decision of the gods, as though she hadn’t suffered enough loss in her life already. Kate couldn’t hold back several tears that rolled down her cheeks and she wiped at them quickly with the back of her hand.
“The doctors think it was a rare strain of meningitis… apparently it comes on quite suddenly if the symptoms aren’t recognised straight away…” Kate looked away sadly, feeling that cold stillness wash over her. “You know we were trying for another baby, Galen and I… we were so caught up in making plans for the future, we didn’t realise that what we already had might be taken away…”
Tash slumped. So, no demons to fight. No evil sorcerers to blame. Nothing she could do about it except to comfort her friend, and to share in her grief. An image of Emma came to her mind as she’d seen the little girl last, her chubby arms waving in the air as they grabbed at Tash’s finger. Emma’s happy gurgling as Tash rubbed her tummy...
She found herself sobbing, “Oh Kate, it’s so unfair...”
Kate’s face crumbled in pain at Tash’s tears, her words striking a chord inside her heart. No, it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t FAIR!! She wanted to shout it out; she wanted to scream it! How many times did she have to endure this kind of pain? IT WASN’T FAIR!!
Kate rose suddenly to her feet, inhaling a sharp breath and holding it in, running a hand through her hair despondently. No, not fair. NEVER fair! Life. And Galen… wasn’t it enough that she had to lose her baby? Her beautiful, beautiful little girl… wasn’t that enough without having to grieve and cry and mourn and plan a funeral on her own?
How could he even think of working when it had taken all her strength just to wake up that morning? When she’d had to drag herself out of that safe, warm cocoon and face the harsh light of day? Yes she wanted to scream. Scream and rage at the unfairness of it all.
And yet she couldn’t. Not yet. Looking at Tash she knew that’s what she expected but it was too soon. She needed to pace herself, deal with one emotion at a time. Despair, or was it sadness? Kate shook her head again in dismay. She couldn’t decide, she just felt empty most of the time, lost and forgotten. The world would pass her by in this state, it would keep on turning and she’d still be standing, still existing despite all her darkest wishes. One day would soon turn into two, two to three. That felt easy, comforting; the laws of nature carried on the same no matter what and in that, maybe, she could survive, could live, or at the very least she could exist.
Without her daughter.
Kate walked to the window and gazed out. It was a drab looking day that seemed set to stretch out before her. In her mind she could imagine great thunderstorms with lightning and mass destruction and great heavy rain that ran down the streets like a river. How she would like to walk into a storm like that and be so utterly consumed. Kate turned back to face Tash and forced, with a huge effort of will, a weak smile to cut across her face.
“I’m sorry Tash, but I’m having a hard time figuring out what I’m supposed to be doing.” At Tash’s furrowed brow she carried on, her voice shaking with uncertainty. “Do I carry on as normal? Or sh-should I be crying?”
Tash shook her head slowly, wiping the tears from her own eyes with the back of her wrist. “There’s no ‘should’. You should be doing whatever you feel like doing at the moment. If that’s lying down and staring at the ceiling blankly, then that’s what you ‘should’ be doing. But I’ll stay here, at least until Galen gets back.”
Tash found her voice growing a hard edge as she spoke of Kate’s absent husband. Of course he’d be hurting, too, but dammit, he could at least share his grief with his wife. Forcing the anger back down again Tash joined Kate at the window, shivering for a second at the feeling that there was a violent storm raging outside, when in reality it was a calm spring day.
“You do whatever you need to do today,” she said quietly, “and I’ll be here to make sure you eat, and keep you company, and if you want to cry I’ll cry with you, and if you want to scream and rage I’ll pick up the broken crockery, and if you want to just lie quietly I’ll let you sleep. But I will be here for you, for whatever you need or want.”
Warmth spread from deep inside Kate at Tash’s kind words. It didn’t make her feel good, but perhaps a little better and the dark void closed up some knowing that she had her rock to hold on to. But it was as much that she could do to process Tash’s words and understand their meaning; she could do what she liked? What she liked… what she wanted… The only thing Kate wanted was her daughter in her arms, or sleeping peacefully in her crib…
Sleep softly, O sweet child of mine,
And smile down in your sleep.
Here are red rosebuds for your bed
Smile and I will not weep
A sigh escaped Kate’s lips, both tired and restless at the same time. She wanted Galen, to feel his arms around her, holding her tightly, his strong warmth surrounding her, reassuring her. *Galen, love, don’t leave me,* she prayed silently, glancing out the window momentarily as a car drove by.
“What I want…” Kate echoed hollowly, thinking, deliberating. “There’s some iced tea in the fridge,” she said finally, looking up at Tash, “I think that would be good.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wanted to grab them back. She felt so stupid, so foolish, twittering on about tea when her daughter was dead!
Tash brushed a stray lock of hair tenderly from Kate’s face and smiled gently. “Then, milady, iced tea you shall have.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 3rd, 2007
A cool breeze blew past the broad shoulders of Blackthorn this chill March evening. Over his usual crumpled clothes, the werewolf wore a newer light grey jacket, hands thrust deeply into the massive pockets. He strolled along quietly, taking in the feel of the wind, and the quiet solitude of the lonely street. He had a lot to think about these days, and had taken to walking the streets while doing so.
Blackthorn had always walked, everywhere he went he walked. It was like meditation for him; he did not even feel the steps as he took them. They just came one after another, effortlessly. His strong gait carried him quickly down the streets. He never looked up once, not even to acknowledge others as he passed by them.
Having found another of his kind brightened his spirits. It was strangely comforting to have met another outcast of his people, it was as if fate had brought them together. He quickly dismissed this notion, even as young as he was he had seen nothing in his life to suggest that any greater power controlled anything within this existence.
He thought of Morgan now, his disdain for her now replaced with an admiration. He had not believed she told the truth when she attempted to warn the pack of the things she had seen Berselius doing behind their backs. He now understood the courage that act must have required and could do nothing to stop himself from smiling at the thought. He realized now that in some subconscious way that her act had help him defy Berselius himself and remove himself as one of his pawns.
Blackthorn’s mood quickly changed as his nostrils were filled with the scent of a blood leech. “A vampire,” he thought to himself. It was not a pleasing scent in the least and it had, with great speed, pulled Blackthorn from his thoughts. He could not stop himself from following the scent. After all, the leech could not be far away judging by the strength of the scent and there was no creature he loathed more than a vampire.
Finally he came upon the creature; strangely he was actually rather pleased with himself. He entered the alleyway quietly and listened silently as it addressed its victims. “You know you’re lucky, the boyfriend of the last girl I had ran away screaming,” the vampire laughed.
“Well, who wouldn’t run away from an ugly mug like yours?” Blackthorn’s strong voiced echoed within the alley as he stepped forward leaving the shadows behind him. “Let the kids go,” he commanded, almost expecting the creature to obey him.
“Ouuuuu, I’m shaking in my boots. News flash, I’m a vampire, creature of the night. I don’t run from humans,” he spat, as he tossed a rather shaken boy into Blackthorn. The boy fell against Blackthorn’s leg with the ground and his body taking most of the impact. When the boy connected with his leg Blackthorn felt a strange tingle run up his left side.
“T.t.t.thanks,” the boy managed to sputter.
“Get out of here boy,” Blackthorn commanded without even looking at him.
The vampire cracked his knuckles. “You’re a dead man.”
“Whoever said I was a man?” Blackthorn closed his eyes, and when they opened they were no longer those of a human, they were those of a beast. His body followed in suit, growing taller, wider, more muscled. Within seconds, the transformation was complete.
“A werewolf,” the boy whispered with an edge of fear in his voice.
His female companion then grabbed his hand, and pulled him from his stupor. “RUN!” she shouted at they dashed quickly away.
Blackthorn emitted a deep rumbling growl as he circled his prey. The vampire, not fully understanding what had just happened, rushed towards the towering beast only to be tossed aside much like the boy the vampire himself had tossed to the ground only moments ago. *I'm going to have fun with this one,* Blackthorn thought.
The vampire came again to his feet, and Blackthorn was again upon him. The vampire having managed to grip his snout was now holding it, barely, inches from his own face. The werewolf's fangs, much like the vampires own, were made for flesh and that’s exactly what Blackthorn intended to use them on tonight.
The vampire finally managed to roll out from under Blackthorn, ending the stalemate. Now having realized he was no match for the beast, the vampire attempted to escape the alley. But even before he could reach his feet the werewolf had grabbed him and dragged him back.
While the vampire writhed on the ground like a fish freshly caught Blackthorn drove his claws into the back of its knees forcing his claws out the other side along with the vampire's kneecaps. The vampire screamed into the darkness, but there was no one to save him. And even if there were, this was L.A.
Blackthorn looked down at the vampire; this leech was no challenge. Very few of vampirekind were strong enough to survive an encounter with a werewolf. And even those who went toe to toe with a werewolf rarely lived to tell of it. After all most werewolves travel in packs.
However, killing this creature would still provide him with some enjoyment. He smiled as he grabbed the creature by the neck, dragging him up and holding him more than a foot from the ground. The vampire looked at Blackthorn and could see the bestial smile upon his monstrous face and it came as no surprise as the creature’s claws pierced his neck and decapitated him leaving nothing more than a wisp of ash to blow through the cool March breeze.
Alaric Questions Carmichael
Friday, 2 March 2007 – 9:05am
The Order of Valor HQ, South Pasadena
***Flashback – 19 February 2007 – 6:34pm - The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge***
Gemmel and Carmichael had a strong hold on the frightened mage as they dragged him out of the witch’s house and into the back yard. The wind whistled around the building, causing the porch swing to rock, creaking on its aged hinges.
Orin’s eyes darted about wildly looking for some means to escape, he didn’t want to die, not like this… He’d spent his whole life looking for ways to cheat death, he’d even sold his soul to hell. Zentara had promised him he would live forever so long as he didn’t lose his head.
“No!” he cried out in desperation, struggling to free himself, “You can’t do this! We had a deal!”
“A deal that you violated,” said Carmichael plainly, all emotion devoid from his voice. “You were to report only to us, instead we find you meeting with Alaric on the side… that just isn’t cricket, old boy. You need to be taught a lesson, nobody crosses The Ministry and gets away with it.”
“Fine! Lesson learnt!” insisted Orin, writhing in the grip of the two men. With his staff destroyed he had almost no way to protect himself.
“The lesson hasn’t begun,” Gemmel chuckled to himself, pulling the poor excuse for a man further away from the house; his screams for mercy could not be allowed to interrupt their leader from his expositions.
A gleam of pleasure flashed through Carmichael’s eye as they tied the pitiful mage to a large oak tree at the far end of the garden. “The Ministry has hereby deemed you a risk, an unknown variable. Your last attempt on the life of the 1412 subject has only sealed your fate.”
“But, but, she was going to kill me! It was self defence!” Orin wailed helplessly. He knew there was no point in protesting, The Ministry had made up their minds and there would be no room for negotiations.
Michael Gemmel turned his head away as he saw his associate pick up the wooden axe and raise it in the air before swinging it at the snivelling mage, silencing his protests with one fatal swoop. He looked up to see Carmichael cleaning the blade on the grass, his suit splattered with bright crimson. Gemmel grimaced, holding back the urge to vomit. His eyes turned downwards as he perceived the disembodied head of Orin Trask staring back up at him with wide, fear stricken eyes.
“Don’t just stand there,” Aimes ordered, his voice hissing on the wind as he untied the body from the tree, “Help me get rid of this.”
***End of Flashback***
Carmichael blinked, the last memories of that night not long ago fading from his mind as he stood in the middle of Alaric’s living room waiting with controlled impatience for the demon to return. He’d been ‘summoned’ to the secret Headquarters of The Order of Valor as soon as the news about the demise of Orin Trask had reached the organisation’s illustrious leader and although Carmichael rarely let himself be summoned by anyone he’d made an exception in this case. The Head of Special Projects for The Ministry still remained in Los Angeles for the meantime and had left strict instructions that he was to be as co-operative with Alaric as reason permitted.
The handsome man glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the old-fashioned style fireplace and straightened his tie as he heard footsteps approaching.
Alaric had not been overly surprised to discover that Trask had been killed, but honour demanded that he look into the situation. So had Zentara, who was more than a little disturbed to have lost an apprentice of hers. An investment of time and energy, gone on a task set by the Ministry.
He arrived dressed in street clothes this time, something that he would need for later. “Good morning, Carmichael,” Alaric said, watching the man turn smoothly to greet him. Rather than beat around the bush with their usual banter, he found his legendary patience wearing thin. “Is there any reason at all the Order should keep up contact with the Ministry after losing one of our most skilled agents to you?”
Carmichael arched an eyebrow at the demon’s directness, it was so unlike Alaric and he’d known him for centuries. “I think you’ll find there’re plenty of reasons,” said Carmichael calmly, sounding unperturbed by Alaric’s accusational line of questioning. “But firstly, my superiors would like to express their utmost condolences but it was a necessary evil I assure you. If you are lacking a mage we are well prepared to offer recompense. As you know we have many skilled agents of our own.”
“That is Zentara’s area to judge, but it is doubtful she will be happy with that arrangement.” In fact, her fury had been clear and immediate. Carmichael did not know it, but he was fortunate the vulture decided to forgo seeking vengeance. More than that, he had to wonder: was this ‘necessary evil’ that Trask had found out something damning, that would convince the Order to turn their eye to the Ministry? “So tell me, Carmichael, was the information worth the effort? That’s the least you can tell us.”
Aimes pursed his lips together in contemplation. Of course there was only so much that he could tell the demon, he just hoped it would be enough to curb his curiosity, though he very much doubted it. “Naturally we appreciate Mistress Zentara’s patience and lament her loss. As for the result of Mr Trask’s toils, well even I am not privy to such information I’m afraid, but we have every confidence that his efforts were not in vain.”
The man’s eyes bore into Alaric’s bald orange head as he turned and sat down, gesturing for him to follow suit. Carmichael assented and reclined in the plush leather chair. “Believe me Alaric, this was not the course of action that my agency wanted to undertake, but your Mr Trask left us with little choice. His behaviour in this affair was reprehensible.”
Alaric inwardly seethed, rising to his feet once more. It would allow him to remain in control of the situation in his own headquarters. Now he remembered why exactly the two agencies never got along: their members were generally from far different parts of society. But there was still the fact that they had some of the information passed ono them, and it was, as Zentara put it, spooky. If Zenatara’s estimates were accurate, the Ministry was up to something big. “Really, Mr. Carmichael? I’m sure that his behaviour is one area upon which you can elaborate.”
“You can depend upon it,” said Aimes gravely as he leaned back in his chair. If Alaric looked slightly more tense standing and trying not to pace his impatience then he would do the opposite. “As you know this was a most delicate undertaking that we set your dear Mr Trask, a task that required the utmost sensitivity and precision. Not only did he allow himself to be observed on more than one occasion – putting this entire project at risk – but he deliberately threatened the life of our subject. Such an act was never to be tolerated, as you yourself understood, Alaric.”
Alaric thought of this carefully, he knew that Trask was supposed to test her powers of observation as well. Being seen on more than one occasion would have been a good way to test those, and that she had put everything together was a mark in Kate’s favour. But threatening her life… “That is indeed understandable, and my curiosity is aroused. Do you have any idea why he would have felt the need to threaten her life?”
Carmichael narrowed his eyes at the demon, he seemed surprised enough but he couldn’t help but wonder whether Orin’s zealousness had been entirely his own or fuelled by Alaric’s orders. “You tell me,” he said darkly, his features becoming suddenly hooded and menacing. “After all, we have it on good authority that Mr Trask was told to report his actions to you directly.”
“Touché.” He remained calm and in control. Underestimating the resources which the Ministry had available and was going to devote to this had been a mistake that would not be repeated. “But I’m sure you of all people can understand our concerns - we’ve never been on the best of terms. It was only natural that I would be concerned as to how exactly we were supposed to help you. Were our positions reversed, you would do the same.”
The man nodded his head cordially, it was a true enough statement. The Ministry certainly wouldn’t put any trust in the Order of Valor, especially not without checking their claims out in advance. “That’s as may be, but the facts do not change,” he continued, “Motives aside your emissary did on more than one occasion attempt to take the girl’s life. He paid for that mistake with his own. As I told you before, we deeply regret the need to act as we did but they were actions born out of necessity. Orin Trask couldn’t be trusted not to try a further attempt at a later stage. Such a variable was not to be endured.”
*Just what are you planning, Carmichael, what is so important?* Alaric thought. Jezanus would have to do more work to find out what they were up to. What he had said was true, and in the same circumstances he probably would have done the same. The humans had a saying: keep friends close and enemies closer. They probably stole it from the Order, but it was good advice.
“We could have ensured no further attempt,” he made one final retort before cutting off further objection. “Which brings us back to the original question. Why should we continue to work with you in this endeavour of yours?” And a thought began to form in his mind. *Why should I not see to it that you face the would-be heroes in this city? It would be a glorious battle.*
“Because the greatest battle is yet to come…” Aimes sat forward, making sure that his words hit home. “You know it Alaric, you feel it inside - we all do… It is inevitable that this day will come, but how glorious will that day be if we are prepared? If we can bend the final result to serve our own ends? You aren’t a fool Alaric, this is too great an opportunity to pass up because of the life of one man. Stand at our side and we will both live to see that day.”
Preparing for the battle was something that the Order had been going about almost since its inception in its own way. Only for the Order the battle itself was the end, the ultimate crowning of the process of natural selection, to determine the dominant species of the planet. “Are you sure you weren’t a politician in your past life?” Alaric stopped, before finally sitting down as well. “I am an old man, Mr. Carmichael, so can recognise this. But we cannot continue to operate blindly.”
“You are not the only one with a long memory,” Aimes replied wistfully, “and I can only tell you what I am partial to myself. But know this, this day will come, sooner than anyone can judge… and when it does all these petty struggles for power will come to an end. There is, after all, only one rule when it comes to survival: kill or be killed. You just have to decide which side you want to be on.”
The thought that the end could come in his own lifetime made Alaric feel a bit of elation and depression. He had perhaps a century of life left in him, and his reflexes had dulled a bit over the years. When that last battle came, the odds were against his survival. It was amazing, though, that the Ministry still thought they wanted power. “Since the Pax Heirosolymorum, the Order has moved with a single purpose. Naturally we plan on doing the killing.” Alaric stopped for a moment to consider. “So Ay'mz'Krmykl, what are we to do?”
Aimes was familiar with the Pax Heirosolymorum – the Peace of Jerusalem was the name that The Order used for the result of the last major power struggle that brought the group together, and he was glad that Alaric had decided to co-operate. “For now you do as we, you wait, patiently if you don’t mind. There is work to be done in preparation but for the moment we must leave our destiny in the hands of Fate.”
*Always waiting patiently. The Ministry should be used to it by now.* Alaric's more immediate response was to nod once in reply. "Of course."
Aimes rose to his feet, careful to conceal his smugness. Not only had he managed to subdue the demon’s ire but had enlisted his continued support; his superiors would be more than pleased. He knew not to underestimate Alaric however, for although he appeared to acquiesce with their terms he was no doubt a volcano of bitter vehemence beneath the obliging outward façade.
“Then this concludes our business,” he said formally, glad to be able to finally leave. “I’ll be in contact.”
Alaric forced a rather sinister smile to spread across his face as Aimes walked past him on his way to the door. He wouldn’t say anything but their business was not over with. There would be much work of their own to conduct if they were going to find out more about The Ministry’s dealings in Los Angeles, and why they were so interested in the ex-Sindell witch, the erstwhile Catherine Wiccham.
As Carmichael stepped out into the street his cell phone began to ring. He retrieved it from his jacket pocket and hit YES. “Hello?… I understand… ummm?… I’ll be back shortly.”
Aimes couldn’t help smiling. So… the witch’s child had died. He felt a sting of sadness at that fact, the little girl had been quite delightful, her light would be missed from the world. Still, it was just how Seer Longstein had predicted many months ago, he and their illustrious leader… “…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…”
Carmichael flipped his phone shut and replaced it in his pocket. Things were progressing just as planned.
With Thanks to Adam again for writing the part of Alaric
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 4th
12:00 am
Alessa’s apartment
Inés counted the soft chimes on Alessa's cuckoo clock. Twelve strokes. Midnight. She tiredly stood up and turned off the TV set. She stretched, getting ready to sleep on Alessa’s couch. *Alessa*, Inés thought as the twelfth chime faded away, she was sleeping peacefully now.
After Cole had left Alessa had spent the rest of the day alone, not allowing Inés to even enter the bedroom. Finally she had fallen asleep, too tired to keep on crying. Inés felt completely useless, and not for the first time she cursed that damn Chance. Although she knew she was being unfair she couldn’t avoid the feelings. She had never liked the man anyway.
Inés stood up to go make herself some tea when a piercing scream froze her.
“Alessa!” She flung open her door and rushed into the dark room. She could make out her writhing body on the bed. Her low, guttural sobs filled the stillness of the room.
“Alessa,” Inés repeated, more softly this time, realizing that she was caught in a nightmare again. She sat on the side of the bed and clasped her shoulders. “Come on,” she said, “Wake up, Al. Wake up!”
“No!” Alessa moaned, and tried to shove her away. Inés could feel the power of her fear and it shook her. Pará. No! (1)
“Despierta!” she cried, shaking her cousin urgently. “Es una pesadilla! Nada más!” (2)
“Él, él...” Alessa tried to thrust Inés away, but the demoness' grip was too strong. “Me lastima…” (3) Her eyes opened. They were dilated, appearing nearly black in the dim lighting of the room. “Chance?” she whispered.
“He’s not here. It’s me, Inés,” she said, “I won't leave you querida”
“Chance... You left me, you left me con él…” (4) she broke off, and began to shudder, twisting her head in the pillow.
“Alessa!!” cried Inés, her face hard. “You have to wake up!! Maldita sea!” She drew Alessa into her arms, stroking her back. “Come on, querida. It’s all right now.”
She felt Alessa stir in her arms, her sobs now dissolved into erratic hiccups. Instead of pulling away, she burrowed closer to Inés, as if trying to hide herself. “Inés?” she asked dubiously, her mind finally getting to the here and now.
“Sí, soy yo,” (5) she answered and kept stroking her back. “I’m here.”
“I had a nightmare… but I can't remember what…” Alessa felt the terror slowly drain away, and was frustrated at not remembering anything of her dream, only the feeling of utter despair and fear.
“Don’t worry about it now. We’ll talk in the morning,” Inés answered, and loosened her embrace, but Alessa clung to her as if an anchor.
“Don’t go,” she said, “I don’t want to be alone.”
“I won't,” Inés said, and snuggled under the covers next to her, still holding her. She stayed awake until she felt the regular breathing of sleep coming from her cousin.
-----------
(1) Stop! No!
(2) Wake up! It’s only a nightmare!
(3) He, he… hurts me.
(4) With him
(5) Yes, it’s me.
Go Home Galen
Friday, 2 March 2007 – 10:04am
Los Angeles Police Department
“Galen, go home.”
James Anderson sighed futilely as he glanced across the desk at his partner for the fiftieth time that morning. He’d been one of the first to arrive before their shift began, looking lost and kind of distracted but it hadn’t been until Officer Ellis arrived with news about the death of Detective Eldridge’s daughter that anyone had realised why.
Galen continued to sift through a large stack of files on his desk, acting as though James hadn’t even spoken. After a moment he looked up. “Do you have the transcript of that interview with the Marsden girl? I can’t seem to find it anywhere…”
James stood up, walking around the two desks to where Galen sat. He leaned over and pushed a few papers aside before picking up the relevant file labelled clearly ‘Interview with Linda Marsden’. He dropped it in front of Galen with an air of finality. “Go home.”
Galen scratched the back of his head in confusion, “I could have sworn I’d looked there…”
“That’s my point,” said James insistently, “You’re distracted and no wonder, you shouldn’t be at work today. Nobody expects you to be here Galen. Go home, you should be with Kate, I’m sure she needs you more now than we do…”
Galen chuckled, pushing his chair back and standing up. “No offence James,” he laughed, walking over to the water cooler and filling up one of the tiny paper cups, “but if it weren’t for me this place would fall apart within a week.”
“Of course it would,” smiled James in agreement, leaning against the wall by the water cooler as they talked. “But that’s not the point, Galen…” he placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. “It’s too soon, you should give yourself sometime to grieve and in the meantime we’ll cope. What do you think we did before you came to work here, huh?”
Galen’s eyes connected with the other man’s, his friend and partner. For a moment he felt his stomach lurch but he quickly composed himself, draining the last of the water from the cup and crumpling it in his fist. “I’m fine, really, I don’t need time, I need to work.”
Suddenly a young female officer approached them. She slowed and smiled sympathetically at Galen, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear about your daughter, is there anything that I can do? How are you holding up?”
It was the last straw for Galen, he’d been getting similar messages of condolences for over the past hour and he’d had enough. After all, the point of him coming to work was that he could get away from everything! “LOOK!” he snapped, tossing the young woman’s hand aside angrily. “Will everyone just quit asking how I am? When did my private life become everybody’s hot topic of conversation? Did I miss a fucking briefing or something?”
James moved forward, pushing Galen back as he grew more and more aggravated with the young girl Penny Smith. “You know Acton Ellis right? His wife works the night shift on the Paediatrics Unit at County Hospital…”
Galen’s face seemed to harden as he realised what James was saying. He screwed his eyes up tightly while he tried to control his burning rage.
“I’m sorry,” said Penny suddenly, her wide brown eyes seeming irritatingly pathetic to Galen.
“For Godsake!” he exploded in anger. “Do I look like I need your fucking hollow concern, Penny?”
“I-I was ju-just trying to be n-nice,” the girl stammered while her face grew a deeper shade of red by the second as everyone in the immediate area where they stood stopped to listen to Galen’s outburst.
“Well don’t, all I want is to be left alone to do my job! And that applies to the rest of you too okay? In fact since you’re all listening…” Galen moved further into the centre of the station so he could address everyone, “I’m fine, I don’t need to go speak to the counsellor and I don’t need your pity!”
“Eldridge!”
The station seemed to go silent as The Chief yelled out at the detective from across the room. Galen looked up, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his own outburst.
“My office, now!”
Galen looked around uneasily as he made the walk of shame to his boss’ office, closing the door firmly behind him.
The Chief, Ed Green, stood behind his desk, his previous harsh expression having melted away to a much softer one. “Sit down Galen,” he intoned firmly, putting the detective under no illusions. He might be sympathetic to his situation but it wasn’t going to cut him any slack. “That was an impressive display out there,” he said once Galen had sat himself down opposite him. “Look, I’m not gonna beat around the bush here Galen. You know I like you, you’re one of my best, you and James have done more for this precinct that I can say but that means shit when you’re harassing a young rookie like Smith.”
Galen opened his mouth to say something but Ed stopped him with a firm glare from beneath his thick eyebrows. “I’ve heard the rumours of course, I’m very sorry for your loss… and that’s why I’m suggesting you take a leave of absence for the next couple of weeks.”
“But I don’t need any time off,” Galen interjected insistently, “I’d rather be working, take my mind off things-”
“When I said ‘suggesting’,” interrupted Ed suddenly, “what I meant was that this offer isn’t open to negotiations. You take the time off Galen. Sort out what you need to and then get back here.” Ed’s face softened a little, “We need you Galen. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re one of my best cops, but you aren’t doing the job to the best of your abilities when you’re in this state of mind, that outburst just now proved it.”
“But I didn’t mean-”
“Take the time off,” interrupted Ed, not ready to listen to any of Galen’s objections. “Go home and spend it with that pretty wife of yours. I’m sure you both must have a lot of preparations to make right now.”
Galen hung his head dejectedly; this had been his one place to escape to, his sanctuary. If the alternative was that he would have to go home and help arrange a funeral he had no intention of attending… He felt that sickness begin to rise in his stomach again… “Fine,” he said quietly, rising to his feet. He wanted to tell him to shove his job, if he wouldn’t stand by him then he could shove it right up his ass! But he didn't. Instead he left the office and walked back into the station and back to his desk where he began picking up his things.
James looked up at him sheepishly, “What happened?”
“You got what you wanted,” said Galen bitterly, never looking at the man once.
“What are you talking about?” James asked, a frown growing on his already wrinkled face, “Where are you going?”
Galen looked up his eyes blank and emotionless. “Home.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 4th
5:00 am
Alessa’s apartment
Alessa had woken up hours ago, but she had kept still, warm in the comforting embrace of Inés’ arms. She felt better, physically at least. The fever was gone, and her cough was going too. Finally, her strong metabolism was taking control and killing the stupid virus. That was something to be thankful for.
That and the fact that she was in her house and safe. She still couldn’t remember anything from the night at the opera with Ellis. From then on… it was all darkness, until the night in the plane. Inés had told her that Daye suspected a spell, and in fact it was the only thing that could explain the month stolen from her.
Besides that, she didn’t have much to be thankful for. She felt Inés’ body next to hers and a surge of anger invaded her. It shouldn’t be Inés beside her, but Chance. His arms, not hers, holding her. She was alone.
She was alone. The one person she could trust with her life, the one person she’d loved, was gone. He’d sacrificed his life to save the world, to save her and to save himself. And she hated him for it. How could he have gone and left her? All alone, again?
She hated him. She loved him.
The tears that had stopped flowing hours ago came back with a vengeance. She had to hold her breath to stop the sobs from escaping, loud and clear, waking Inés again. Why did he have to die? Hadn’t he proved himself enough? He’d taught her to love again, and now he was no more. She hated him, and she hated herself for leaving him in LA, leaving him with only that sword to keep him company. It was all her fault.
If she’d been more intuitive she would have known, she should have come back, she should have stayed. She would have fought the power of the sword with him, of Dray’chen. She would have prevented him from traveling to the end of the world, or at least she would have been there holding his hand as he crossed over. Then they’d be together now, wherever he was. Not heaven, probably, but she’d dare hell to be with him.
She would… the words circled in her mind over and over, she would, she should, she could… It was over now; she would, could or should no more. He was gone. Chance was gone.
She wiped her eyes and turned away from the window. The light from dawn was clearing the room. Her heart caught in her throat as she saw a hazy figure between the tears. Could it be? Was it?
He walks towards the bed, his mouth wide with a big smile and his eyes holding a promise. She feels the mattress sink with his weight as he lies besides her, taking her in his arms. His hands wipe her tears, and shove her damp hair away from her face. His mouth seeks her temple and kisses her softly, murmuring nonsense to her to make her smile again. And she does, she just smiles and falls asleep. In Morris’ arms.
Not fighting the memories this time, Alessa snuggled closer to Inés; she smiled for the first time in hours and finally fell asleep again.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Previously on LABN:
-Tyler phones Kelly Hyatt in Madrid
-Tyler shoots at Balance agents at the Port of LA
-Tyler destroys Milaeno
-Maurice Placidus tends to Tyler
March 1, 2007
A highway near the Nevada California
5:38 PM
Introducing:
Kate Beckinsale as Kelly Hyatt
Topher Grace as Shawn Hyatt
Tyler’s head pullulated with a dull ache, one that had spread slowly from the vein in his forehead until it conquered every inch of his skull. The ache had begun roughly an hour ago, when the last of the day’s real sunlight vanished over the horizon, and Tyler took the wheel of the car. Since then Tyler had driven in silence, his eyes straight ahead, having lost any will to pay attention to that which sped past him long before. Of course, that’s not to say his mind didn’t drift.
November 1, 2006
St. George’s Cathedral
2:00
Tyler stepped out of the church and turned his eyes further up the dirt road. Placidus’ apartment had been erected nearly six blocks up, at the end of a long field of plants that bore a strong resemblance to wheat, yet weren’t. Each stalk of the plant came up to roughly Tyler’s waist, and he often ran his hand across it, trying to get a picture of Shawn playing baseball when he was ten, of Kelly trying to talk him into reading some book.
Though he’d been in contact since Placidus, Tyler wanted to hear her voice again, and Shawn’s, though the boy was far more angry with him. But Tyler knew he had to rein that impulse in and let time pass. No good could come of a glut of unusual phone traffic.
Eyes were always watching.
But despite that ever-present knowledge Tyler felt safe, and he credited that to Placidus. The priest, in their entire time together, had acquiesced to every request Tyler made, every suggested precaution, no matter how ridiculous it may have seemed and the only reason given was a respect for Tyler’s instincts on account of Tyler saving his life. As a result, the priest had changed his phone number, the plates on his car, so much of his life that Tyler was amazed the priest could keep a smile on his face.
The fact of which Tyler would be eternally grateful for.
When Tyler cleared the first block, he looked over his shoulder and saw a black Ford Explorer coming up the path. Tyler judged the speed at more than fast enough to warrant police attention and stopped at a nearby tree, waiting for the car to pass. As it did, Tyler caught sight of the plates, recognizing the plate number.
And when it passed, he broke into a run and cursed himself for leaving his gun behind.
Present day
As the events of the first of November continued to play in Tyler’s mind he noticed the same faux-wheat plants passing by him, and cursed himself for not having been more careful. He’d gone so far as to try to leave the priest two months before that night, but had been talked out of it. While the priest’s case had been correct - Tyler had been far from healed - the consequences of the decision had been disastrous.
November 1, 2006
2:07 am
Denny Elbourn got his team out of the Explorer and brought them to its rear, opening the trunk. He opened a box inside revealing a set of slots, all shaped for weapons. Several of these slots were empty, being intended to hold assault rifles and automatic weapons which were not necessary for this job. Elbourn handed out pistols to two other men, both of whom dressed in Elbourn’s casual work style.
“We go in, and assume the primary is inside. You don’t go around any corner without exercising caution. The subject in question has already killed more of us than I can count, and I am not about to add to his body count.” Elbourn spoke with authority and command. “So Baez, you take extra caution in your sweep, and stay downstairs. Reed and I can and will handle the rest.”
The three men in question broke off, held their weapons and moved to the house and Tyler caught their view from the field. He saw Elbourn finesse the door open and his two companions enter, covering their leader. As they disappeared, Tyler crept to the Explorer, watching the fourth man leaning on the driver’s door, being careful to stay hidden. As he came to the back of the truck Tyler kicked up some dirt, drawing the fourth man’s attention, and waited. As the poor soul approached, Tyler took him into a chokehold.
And heard the sound of a man being slammed into a wall.
Tyler snapped his prey’s neck and opened the unlocked trunk, followed by the box, to take the last remaining gun, a Beretta 96. Running to the door, Tyler’s back hit the wall and he swept into the building, listening to the shouts of the agents and his friend.
“Where is he, priest?” Elbourn’s shouting was followed by the distinct sound of hard knuckles crashing into broken down flesh. Tyler crept up the stairs, soundlessly, into the hallway and went to Placidus’ room. “I’m not going to ask you-”
Tyler turned into the room and fired, hitting the second man in the face. As Elbourn turned, Tyler hit him in the left shoulder, the chest, and the head. As the agent fell, Tyler came into the room, helping Placidus to his feet.
“Come on, Father. We’ve gotta go.” Tyler moved back to the door.
When Tyler fired, agent Baez moved off his sweep and ran to the stairs, stopping at the top. Tyler checked the hallway and stepped out, followed by the priest. Baez leapt out and fired four shots as Tyler shoved the priest and dove left, firing. He hit Baez twice, killing him. Then Tyler turned.
Placidus was gut shot, and the blood seeping out of his nightshirt was black, the bullet in his liver.
“Let me see it.” Tyler’s eyes went wide with panic for less than a nanosecond as he moved to tend the priest.
Placidus saw, and pressed a hand to the wound. “That bad, is it?”
Tyler looked the priest in the eye, to lie. “It’s nothing.” Tyler pulled Placidus’ shirt up, intent on administering aid. Periodically he fought off the panic, the desperation threatening to rise. It was, he told himself, a distraction.
“They’ve got your family, don’t they?”
“Don’t worry about that, Father. I’ll get you to…” Tyler put pressure on the wound, knowing full well it was useless.
“No… don’t…” Tyler couldn’t keep the panic out as he listened to Placidus’ strength leaving him. The wound was far worse than he’d thought. “Office… top… blue.”
“Come on Mo, stay with me.”
“Charter… fly… get the…”
“What? We’ve got to get to the hospital.” Tyler started to pick the priest up.
“Desk… drawer… codes… go.” Placidus’ voice was nearly inaudible, but Tyler caught it this time, and added up the rest.
“We’ve gotta deal with you first.” Tyler had the priest off the floor when he drew in his last breath. Placidus shuttered, and his wound gushed once more. Then he was dead, and Tyler stood, holding him. That was all Tyler did for a moment. He held a man who’d taken him in, nursed him to health when most would have let Tyler die. Then, on a night when men came for Tyler, as they always would, Placidus had paid a price.
But all of that got pushed aside, as Tyler laid Placidus down, and made for the study.
Present day
In the five months since Placidus was killed, Tyler had not had time to do right by him. He’d been on the road for most of it, looking over his shoulders, and trying to keep his family alive. He’d not shed a single tear. But as Tyler looked to his right, to his sleeping wife, he choked them back.
She was breathing because Placidus surrendered, didn’t fight. The priest had removed Tyler’s obligation, his need to get him to a hospital, and left him with a phone call. The police would have to see to the priest’s funeral.
Assuming The Balance did not take it over too quickly.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 4th, 2004
Blackthorn walked silently into the dimly lit bar. It was quiet and only the bartender was visible, cleaning up a spill or some such task. Blackthorn strolled to the bar and seated himself. The bartender looked up slowly; fixing his gaze on Blackthorn he studied him for a moment before he spoke. “Mr. Gray is waiting for you in his office, it’s the one on the left.” He followed this up by pointing down the darkened hall splitting off from the entrance to the kitchen. Blackthorn nodded and moved down the hall.
Blackthorn paused for a moment before pushing the door open and stepping into the office. The door slid open silently and he noticed the thick smoke of a cigar hanging in the air. When he came fully into the room Mr. Gray slowly looked up from his paper and moved to put out his cigar in a well used ashtray on the edge of the table. After glancing at him for a second he went immediately back to the paper. After a few moments had passed he motioned for Blackthorn to sit before he put down the paper and addressed him.
“Blackthorn, am I right?” he stated casually.
“Yes, you are,” Blackthorn said making eye contact.
“Well then, let’s get to business. Morgan called me earlier and informed me she would be sending a friend of hers by. You see I have a few openings and I’m looking for good people to fill them. I hope you’re good people.”
“That I am, and if you have a position available I would be more than happy to fill it. And trust me I am more than able to handle whatever you will require.” As he spoke Blackthorn stood and removed his jacket, placing it on the back of his chair. He rolled up the right sleeve of his t-shirt, and after a second his arm began to pulse and change. It quickly became the oversized limb of a huge beast covered in thick black fur with long razor-sharp claws protruding from his fingertips. After a few seconds Blackthorn returned his arm to normal, rolled his sleeve back down and returned to his seat.
“Very impressive,” Mr. Gray replied with a satisfactory grin on his face.
He continued, “Although I am sure you understand the nature of the work you will be doing, let me be very clear and upfront right now. I do whatever my clients require, as long as they pay of course. And with the substantial fee my clients pay comes the understanding that their orders will be followed implicitly, with no questions asked. Of course you work for me, and as such you take orders from no one but me. Are you sure you can handle that?”
“Of course.” After all, his entire life was spent doing the errands and dirty work Berselius considered beneath him.
“Good then, you now work for me. And luckily I already have something for you; I hope you don’t have any plans today.” Mr. Gray already knew the answer and so reached into a desk drawer and removed a cell phone and a pager and tossed them on his desk.
“These are yours; keep them on you at ALL times. If I call and you don’t answer we’re done. And I don’t do second chances.” The look in his eyes was very clear about the last part.
“Now as for today’s job, being your first job it’s nothing complicated. Everything you’ll need to get started is waiting at the bar. Make sure to pick it up on your way out. And I look forward to a lasting partnership between me and you, Blackthorn; you seem like the type of level headed individual that can go far in this business.” Mr. Gray smiled and pointed to the door, Blackthorn picked up the pager and cell phone along with his jacked and left, shutting the door as he went.
Blackthorn approached the bar on his way out. The bartender grabbed a wad of cash, a slip of paper and a small black phone and address book and placed them on the bar in front of Blackthorn who took them and placed them in his various jacked pockets.
When Blackthorn had finally exited the bar he deftly removed the slip of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “Go to the payphone across the street from the mall at Washington Beach.” Blackthorn was ready.
Mr. Gray Played by: Michael Madison
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
1 March 2007
Late Evening
THUD!
Nikolai felt the sudden force of the wall on his back as the breath was knocked from him. When he heard the scream, he had to stop the car and see what was wrong with the woman. Alicia handed him a stake on the way out, cautioning him of the possibility of vampires. The Russian shook his head, still honestly not sure what to make of them. He’d still never seen a vampire after all, just heard of them.
Of course, it was still possible to rationalise the bumpy face of the man in the alley. What he could not explain was the force of the blow to his chest, or sailing through the air to hit the brick wall. Then the ground was rushing up to meet his face as he fell.
Staggering to his feet, Nikolai breathed heavily as he heard the sound of Alicia’s heels clacking on the cement. She would try to help, he knew, though the heels would not be the best to fight in. Or even effective at all; so far as he knew nobody in their right mind tried to do it.
“Ah, more food,” the vampire said, the discarded and drained body of another person on the ground nearby. “This is better service than fast food.”
“Just leave him alone,” Alicia said, holding a stake in her hand menacingly, glancing down at the other body. “You seem to have already killed one person, so you have no reason to kill him.”
Nikolai watched with horror as the vampire took several steps towards her. He fished around for the stake on the ground, trying to remember what you were supposed to do – wasn’t it a stake to the heart that supposedly killed Dracula? Stake to the heart… they were vulnerable, but that meant killing a living creature. *But doesn’t Tasha insist they really aren’t alive? A demon wearing human form? Does that even matter?*
The vampire had advanced on Alicia, and grabbed her by the throat, twisting her hand with the stake back with his other hand. “My, you look rather tasty. I think maybe I should save you for late-” Suddenly his eyes got wide, his hand losing its grip. Alicia caught her breath for a moment, seeing Nikolai behind looking worried and disturbed. Without thinking, she brought her hand around to the vampire’s chest and watched as it turned into dust.
“That was very lucky,” she said, still feeling the adrenaline rushing through her, stepping closer to Nikolai. “You could have been killed.”
Nikolai breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. He still couldn’t believe it; he had wanted to save the man now lying dead on the ground and then had almost… killed… a living thing. Part of him wanted to dismiss the vampire’s death as little more than a necessary casualty; another chastised him for not stopping Alicia and just driving it off.
“I – you – I – you – you…” he trailed off, taking a deep breath. “You killed him!” he finally got out.
“Um, yes, that’s what one tends to do with vampires.” Alicia led the rather surprised Nikolai back to the car, when his shock became apparent, sitting with him in the back so that she could continue to be close to him and to protect themselves if more were around. “Are you ok? You’re shaking.”
Nikolai closed his eyes, trying to steady himself as he felt an arm slip around him to hold him. “I think so, it’s just…” he stopped as his breathing returned to normal. “Was that necessary?”
A look of surprise came across Alicia’s face. She knew that despite all that he knew and experienced Nikolai remained strangely stubborn about the existence of vampires, even telling Alicia that he thought it a ‘quaint fiction’ to cover for something, he knew not what. Probably to justify killing humans with some peculiar quality. “We’re talking about a vampire, Kolya. Evil undead.” How had he managed to rationalise away their existence, even knowing on some level those rationalisations were just that?
“And being evil undead gives us licence to murder them?”
Alicia put her head down on his shoulder. He had told her about his past some and about the fact that he was now (at least in some sense) half-Xangyarj. It was not the best way to be reminded of their respect for life being so strong that it did not even allowing the destroying of vampires. Seeing him incorporate that part of them into his personality was part of what initially attracted her to him.
At the moment though, it just frustrated her. “But you were prepared to kill it, weren’t you?”
“Probably, if there was no other way,” he said, sighing. “I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
2 March 2007
Nikolai’s Apartment
Early Morning
Nikolai dragged himself out of bed with his bones protesting after the night before. A battle with vampires was not something that he had expected or even cherished. After finally getting Alicia home, he’d replayed that image in his mind of the vampire grabbing Alicia, possibly about to kill her. As he stumbled through the apartment towards the bathroom, the image replayed itself in his mind.
He opened up the mirror in the bathroom, taking out a bottle of aspirin. Nikolai took the two aspirin dry, not even bothering with water. The pills tasted quite nasty, as he expected, but at least the pain would be gone that much quicker. Besides, he had tasted much worse. As the mirror shut, he jumped and spun around to face a guest.
“Don’t mind me,” the standing figure of Garak said. “Please, finish medicating yourself. We can talk after.”
Nikolai looked confused. He didn’t feel asleep or any of the normal things when one of these conversations happened. There was no sense of being half-awake or unsure if he was dreaming or not. Had he really gotten so used to the dream states, or was he just going insane?
“Well I could just tell you the answer, but then I wouldn’t be the man of mystery, now would I?”
Shaking his head, Nikolai pushed past the figure. This time it seemed rather strange – he could actually physically feel the other, and now for the first time noticed that while he was still dressed in his tuxedo, albeit without bow tie, Garak was also in a tux.
“No,” Nikolai mumbled, working his way into the living room with the figure following. Only this time he wouldn’t take the standard replies for an answer. “So, what the hell are you? And shouldn’t I be asleep?”
“Oh you are quite awake,” Garak replied, looking steady as usual. Then he did something surprising. He gave Nikolai a partly useful answer. “You’re on the right track about me now thanks to your friend, so your subconscious had to throw you for a loop. Either that or I’ve adapted to your mind enough to my job properly.”
Nikolai moved to the sink, getting himself a glass of water as that information sunk in. A spirit guide – but to what? Or was it like something else spoken of in the journal? That the Xangyarj believed they had developed a relationship with a group of higher beings was without question; some thought that the Finding was related to these beings. “You’re going to pester me about last night, aren’t you?”
“Clever man.”
“It’s been on my mind since then, so…”
Garak smiled. “Of course. You weren’t serious when you said you would have killed them, were you?”
Nikolai glared at the mental figure in mid-drink. *Why does a projection of the subconscious have to be so annoying?* “It was either him or Alicia.”
“And yet there you stood, objecting to her killing him. You do realise they aren’t exactly beings with a soul?”
“Neither are a number of demons,” Nikolai countered, that new part of his mind guiding him. “And they are conscious beings, after all.”
“So? That doesn’t stop Tasha from killing them, or them from being bloodthirsty killers.”
“And killing them does stop them from any sort of spiritual development which would allow them to master their inner demons.”
Garark snorted. “Please, don’t start quoting the accounts of Meletus and his cult of deranged Stoic Vampires. There’s a reason their own kind wiped them out.”
Nikolai shook his head. Why was this figure arguing with him so much? Then he realised that part of him really didn’t find his arguments compelling. Really, who cared if they were ‘alive’ or ‘conscious beings’ at all when it came to fighting for your life? Only… “And so that makes it ok to kill them, the fact that they’re unenlightened?”
“The fact that they prey on humans.”
“So do a number of other creatures-”
“And we have no problem hunting them!”
“-but those are not rational beings,” Nikolai concluded. “Besides, the best that gets you is self-defence or defence of others.”
Garak smiled. “So then, why couldn’t you just kill it? A man with your training and talents should have no trouble finding the heart from behind.”
Nikolai stopped. It was a good point, he had just justified after the fact killing a rational being and nevertheless something had stopped him. “Respect for life.”
“You allowed sentimentality to get in the way of your work, in other words.”
“I left that business-”
“Please, Kolya,” Garak said, advancing on him, his voice low and intense. “You must realise that there’s more than just L’Than in there. Have respect for life, yes, but also realise that you are not a Xangyarj. You know that respect for life means paradoxically that you are sometimes compelled to take it-”
“There are more important things than mere survival.” Nikolai looked somewhere between appalled and accepting.
“We are not just talking about survival, and do you really think allowing a vampire to kill someone will bring them closer to development?”
Nikolai shook his head. “No.” He sighed, realising that he actually could have killed one. In fact, he could still kill any number of things. It was a rather confusing situation when he considered, however, the circumstances under which he might be able to.
Garak smiled, standing up. “I think I’ll go back to your subconscious mind now,” he said. “There’s still much to be done, but don’t worry. Eventually you’ll work out exactly what it is that you are supposed to be doing.”
Enter Friend Number Two
Sunday, 4 March 2007 – 11:44am
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge, Birch Street
The good and bad thing about being an empath was the fact that nobody had to tell you how they felt. You just knew. When Jack let him in, the concern was very evident that Kate was not coping well. Nikolai could only imagine what Jack must be going through from what he felt when he met Kate, her emotions refusing to remain steady. Depression, anger, grief, annoyance, loneliness all mixed together to form a dreadful symphony written by some composer full of nothing but loathing for all that was pleasant. He knew she was trying to put on a brave face. That determination was there. He also knew it was a fight that she could easily lose.
Kate was sitting in the kitchen when he arrived, the table covered in neat piles of papers and brochures for coffins, funeral service venues, floral tributes etc. Kate was busy sorting through the almost overwhelming list of arrangements that needed to be made before Wednesday, jotting down notes and making phone calls - dealing with each task in a distinctly methodical and formal manner as though it weren’t her daughter’s funeral she was organising but some stranger’s.
“Hello, Katya,” he said as he sat down in the chair next to her. Kate looked up briefly in recognition before turning her eyes down again, seemingly absorbed in a catalogue of floral arrangements. “I - Tasha called me yesterday,” he started off rather nervously, “…I wanted to stop by in person. I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Kate nodded her head slowly. Tash had been around there quite frequently of late, just as she said she would. Comforting her when she needed it but mostly just being an extra presence in the house when Jack wasn’t around. Kate was glad that Tash had told the others, it would save her that task and she just couldn’t… couldn’t cope with everyone offering her their condolences, wishing her well, wanting to know if there was anything they could do, asking after Galen…
“Lilies or roses?” Kate held up the brochure she was looking at for Nikolai to see. On one page was a beautiful arrangement of white lilies, their large graceful heads looking proud and elegant. On the other was a similar display of pink roses, delicate and unobtrusive. Kate couldn’t decide. “Lilies are more traditional…” she said thoughtfully, “but then these are so beautiful, the colour… I don’t know… what do you think?”
Nikolai did not respond immediately from the utter shock. Of all the things… funeral arrangements were not what he had expected. But then, she probably would have more than enough shoulders to cry on when that was called for. “The roses,” he finally said. “They seem to reflect more the joy she brought into your life.” He watched her reaction to that carefully.
Kate felt herself falter for a moment at Nikolai’s words and he was watching her so closely, just like Tash always did and Jack, as though they were all just waiting, desperate for her to break down in a fit of tears or strike out at something in rage. Why were they all waiting for her to fall?
*Because we want to be there to help pick you up again.*
Kate’s head spun around as she heard Jack’s thought loud and clear in her mind. He’d stopped doing that for the past few days. Kate figured it was just too much for him to cope with, her thoughts, her feelings… she couldn’t blame him, sometimes she wished she could climb out of her own mind and just leave it behind. Sometimes she wanted to leave her whole life behind.
Jack walked into the kitchen and smiled at Nikolai, he was a good friend of Kate’s even if she wasn’t as close to him as she was to Natasha. He was glad to see that so many people were coming to see how she was, or writing letters, or phoning her; usually people shied away from the recently bereaved, not knowing what to say and afraid of making things worse. “I’m afraid I have to go out again,” he announced regretfully, “I have a few meetings to take but I’ll try to keep them short. I should be back in a few hours.”
Kate nodded and turned away, she was always sad when Jack had to leave but she knew it was necessary. His work might allow him some degree of flexibility but as the chief liaison officer for Los Angeles, Jack’s burden was a heavy one. His superiors didn’t understand why he had to stay at home when his daughter had a husband to help her through this difficult time and he wasn’t about to start explaining such delicate matters with outsiders.
“I’ll be okay,” said Kate softly, her voice betraying her disappointment. She glanced at Nikolai and smiled weakly, glad that he was here so that she didn’t have to be alone again.
Nikolai slowly made his way around the table, trying not to stare. It was probably best to treat her as though nothing happened. Something was still wrong, he knew, but she would need time to decide to talk about it on her own. She could not be forced to heal, and an attempt to do so would probably just make matters worse. Instead he glanced down at some of the brochures lying out on the table.
One strange thought bounced into his head. Where in the name of all that was holy was Galen? He was her husband, damnit! The man should be here. Seeing her notes, he found the right brochure on the table. “Here,” he said, sliding it over. “I think that this is a fitting place, if the weather holds,” the brochure being for an outdoor grove.
Kate’s eyes watched Jack leave before she turned back to Nikolai, looking over the glossy booklet. The pictures made it look as though they were selling a luxury vacation spot rather than a burial plot. Kate grimaced, sliding it over to one side, “I already have a place, it looks… nice…”
Kate sighed, glancing back at the list. She still had so much to organise it felt endless; after the flowers were caterers, and announcements then caskets… She was glad to have found a high priest to enact the rite but still… she felt cold about the whole thing, numb… like she was just going through the motions of all this. In the end she didn’t care whether they had the right finger foods, or what kind of typeface she wanted for the headstone! It all just felt so futile.
In the symphony, the beat of frustration rushed to the foreground, undercut by that steady hum of grief. It was beautiful, if such a morbid thing could be called beautiful. "I know it seems hard now but you will heal in time," he told her before moving the list aside over her protests. "No. You need a break, and don't try to tell me that there's too much to do."
Kate sighed in frustration as Nikolai looked around the room again, wondering for the second time what had happened to her husband. "Where is Galen? He... I'm sorry," he started, feeling the start of the reaction to that. *Ok. Mentioning the husband is a bad idea today.*
Kate closed her eyes momentarily, recomposing herself before she reached for the notebook and staring at her fluid scrawlings.
“He’s at work,” she said simply, her voice disconnected of feeling and emotion as she jotted down a few notes before rising to her feet. “I was thinking of asking Joshua to do the catering,” she announced after a moment, picking up the telephone handset, “Everyone raves about the food in Bibliophile and he could do those pastries that were so popular at the first White Hat meeting.” She glanced at Nikolai momentarily, hoping that he might not have realised that she’d evaded answering his question fully, she turned away again, opening a cupboard and pulling out a few things as she searched for her telephone address book for the number.
“Ah, Joshua - yes, I’ve had his pastries once or twice at Bibliophile with Alicia. He would be an excellent choice for the catering.” She had avoided answering the question, but the amount of hurt that she felt at it did tell him all he needed to know. Things weren’t exactly going well between Galen and herself. Kate looked many things, tired and worn out chief among them. It wasn’t right, being forced to have to make all of these arrangements on her own, and he feared that if she didn’t take a little time to relax it would not be good, since bad things tended to happen when strong witches got overworked and short-tempered.
“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” he asked kindly, wondering if he meant Joshua or Galen.
“Would you?” sighed Kate gratefully, glad that she could avoid talking to another person. It wasn’t so bad with funeral directors and the like, they were used to dealing with people who had lost a loved one. They knew not to pry, not to offer their sympathy, they just did their job and sent you a bill at the end of it. Kate could sign cheques till the cows came home, that didn’t matter. She could look at seventeen different catalogues on caskets, choosing just the right inlay and handles that would look suitable but not overtly ostentatious. She could find a burial plot in the exactly perfect location, shaded by a leafy sycamore and go out and buy an appropriate mourning outfit that she would invariably only ever wear the once because… well, because how could she ever wear it again? And then, at the very end, she could stand there and watch while her baby was put in a box and buried in the cold dark earth. Alone.
She could do it all because she had to. Because no one else could… would do. But if she could do all that without talking to a single person then all the better.
Nikolai nodded as her relief hit him. He reached for his cell phone, watching as it hit the ground. Picking it up, he clutched his ribs as a bit of pain shot through them from several nights before where the vampire hit him.
“Pastries sound like a good start,” he said, beating down his Xangyarj half as he focused, steadying his breathing. Kate didn’t want to talk, that much was obvious. Though knowing that she had a friend nearby until Jack got back would help, but right now she needed someone to help with the planning. For that he couldn’t afford to get caught up in her grief and his sympathy. He needed to become detached, like he would have been on a job. “Do you think there should be something else?”
“I don’t know,” Kate replied with a frown as she watched Nikolai clutching his side, “Just ask Joshua what he thinks when you call him… Are you all right, Koyla?”
"Alicia and I went to see Don Giovani a few night ago," Nikolai explained, not wanting to think of that night. When he was enjoying the time at the opera, his friend was either watching her child die or grieving over it. "On the way back, there was someone being attacked and I decided to play hero. Did you know vampires are real?" It was an absurd question since she most undoubtedly did and he forced out a fake laugh to cover the awkward silence that followed.
Nikolai assured Kate that he was perfectly fine if a little sore from the endeavour, a little lie and hopefully not something that would add to her worry. Once this was done, he politely excused himself to call Joshua from the other room, so that he would not disturb her too much.
Kate felt bad that she didn’t care more, normally she might have enquired about the vampire attack or tried to heal him but now… she just felt… Kate sighed and put the phone down, hearing Nikolai’s voice in the other room as he talked to Joshua. She leaned against the kitchen table and closed her eyes. It was nice that Koyla had come round to help her, to see how she was but she couldn’t help but feel irritated. It was the same feeling she’d had around Tash for the past two days too and she just didn’t know why she felt that way! She really didn’t want to be alone, and yet when someone tried to help her she just felt like she wanted to scream at them to leave her alone!
After a few minutes had passed she turned back to face the stack of brochures with their glossy photographs. *Pink roses and a plain white casket, silver birch trim and a matching white silk lining… oh Emma…* Kate closed her eyes again as tears fought their way to the surface and she began to sob. In her mind she thought back to that night, holding Emma’s dead body in her arms. She’d still been warm and soft, just like when she woke up after a long nap… her hair all fluffy and mussed up. She’d stroked her crimson cheeks, held her tiny fingers and Galen… *Work, he’s working… he has an important job to do… he can’t just drop everything because-*
Kate opened her eyes suddenly, feeling that white-hot rage burning inside. She doubled over with a gasp, leaning on the table as the pain shot through her stomach like acid. She wiped at her tear-filled eyes, stifling another sob. It wasn’t fair! IT WASN’T FAIR!!! Kate’s body heaved with the force of her repressed agony, desperate to be released. *No… I won’t… I won’t!* she thought stubbornly, trying to hold it in.
The conversation with Joshua started as Nikolai had expected, with him enquiring about how Kate was doing before finally getting on to the depressing business of selecting food for the reception. As he hung up, he stopped in the doorway. *Uh oh.* There were three kinds of signs in the world: Bad Signs, Very Bad Signs, and The Shit Just Hit the Fan signs. It was this last that gave him the feeling of being struck in the stomach with a sledgehammer.
*Ok, so repression will hurt her more in the long run, and if she lets it all out now with my luck she'll hit me with a lightning bolt or something for suggesting it....* He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, knowing what he had to do. "Just let it out, Katya, if you want - I will not mind." And he would even help her clean up the mess when it came to that.
Kate could barely hear Nikolai’s words above the pounding inside her head as he entered the kitchen again. It was all she could do not to lash out at him, couldn’t she have just one thought, just one feeling that was her own and not be shared out to whomever happened to be in the same room as her? Damn empaths! Damn telepaths! “I… can’t” she forced out, her voice rigid as she fought to control her unbearable grief.
Nikolai did not realise that he had been holding his breath until the expected storm failed to come. With all of the conflicted feelings she had it was possible that she needed more help than any of her friends could provide her. Still...
He knew Kate was strong, she had to be. She acted as a woman who had persevered despite an incredibly large amount of crap that would have driven lesser people to suicide, though she had not spoken of many of the events in a lot of detail. And here she was, trying to do it again. "I could offer you lots of useless platitudes, but you don't want that." He sighed. "I know Galen has you rather upset right now, you know… I can feel everything that you do. If you think it's best, I can go or stay if you would prefer.”
Kate was silent for a long time, her back still facing Nikolai as she leaned on the table for support just breathing steadily as she felt her angry pain at the injustice of the world subside for the time being. She blinked feeling tears roll over her cheeks and splash on the notepad, making the black inky characters blur and run into one another. Slowly she turned to face Nikolai. “Please don’t go,” she whispered quietly as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks again.
“Oh Katya,” sighed Nikolai as he walked over to her, his arms open as he took her in them and held her in a close embrace. “It’s okay…” he soothed, tightening his hold as she sobbed uncontrollably, her face buried against his chest, “I’m not going anywhere…”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 4 March 2007 - 8pm (Hong Kong Time)
Jade bent down and pecked Valerian on the cheek, ignoring his disapproving glower as she slipped on a pair of heeled sandals. "It's just dinner daddy... And we're just friends..."
*Of sorts...*
Jade wasn't too sure if friendship was quite the word to sum up the few times she and Kieran had met, neither was she certain that a continued association was a good idea. But he was the only person she'd come to know since her arrival in Hong Kong and was a pleasant enough person to be around when Jade desired company other than Valerian's.
With a last wave at her father, Jade slid into the cab that had pulled up at the kerb and sped off in the direction of the harbour front, all the while thinking back to her first run-in with Kieran Harte...
Tuesday, 13 February 2007 - 2am (Hong Kong Time)
It was a wet night. The incessant drizzle that had gone on for the better part of the evening had stopped for the moment but the brisk winds were chilly, making it a night for staying in. Pulling up the collar of her white coat, Jade cursed herself again for deciding to walk instead of drive. She'd needed to get out of the house and clear her head, but, in hindsight, it might have been a better idea to take the car. An ominous rumble in the distance had her glancing up and rolling her eyes. *Great...* Jade looked around the quiet street. Spotting the neon sign of a bar some distance away, she quickened her pace, hoping to reach shelter before the downpour.
Fat droplets of rain had just started to patter the sidewalks when Jade pushed against the bar's heavy wooden door. There were more people than she'd expected, given the time of the night, but the atmosphere was pleasant enough with dim lights and soft music playing in the background. *Looks as good a place as any other to spend a couple of hours alone.*
Kieran finished putting in an Air CD when the thunder broke the silence. He pressed play and went straight for the window, trying to take in what was to come. A small smile formed across his face as the music started playing. In an odd way, the blending of the electronic-jazz beats and the smack of the thunder filled his heart. For months, he had been searching for people. People who, to any regular person, would be merely ghosts. But, it was something that Tao had mentioned to him that caused his departure from L.A. Something about his family that struck a nerve. It was always the case with Kieran, something new just strikes the same old nerve. It's weird blends like the music and thunder that motivate him to seek the outside world. Deep down, he was a voyeur. Kieran indulged in the fantasies of others. Lives that people lived, much in contrast to him.
He decided it was time to get some air. “Time for flying rockets/For silver jets/For surfing bones/Surfing on a rocket...” he hummed as he grabbed his jacket.
Jade settled herself on a stool at the corner of the bar counter and ordered a double bourbon. She smiled at the bartender when he brought her drink and wondered briefly if it'd be crass to ask if he could just bring her the entire bottle. It'd been a long time since Jade had felt the need to get drunk, but tonight she did. Tonight was different. Tonight marked the day she and Sorrow had met two years ago, when he had walked into XY and changed her life.
*Tonight sucks.* Jade smiled bitterly and tossed back the bourbon, closing her eyes as it flowed down her throat like liquid velvet. Jade signalled the barman for another before drawing out a slim silver case. Withdrawing a cigarette, she tapped it absently against her palm as she sat, oblivious to the quiet murmurs of the other patrons, utterly lost in thought.
“Don’t don’t let it go/Please take my hand/Don’t get me down/Surfing on a rocket...” A crack of thunder interrupted Kieran’s humming for a second, but he didn’t let it ruin his mood. The drizzle turned into a downpour without warning. He was all wet with the exception of his sweater, coolly protected by his jacket. “I’ll be back one day/Just pray for me/I’m on my way/Surfing on a rocket/5 4 3 2 1 0/No one can stop me to go/You’ll never see me again.”
“No one can stop me to go, you’ll never see me again,” he repeated out loud. “Never see me again,” he repeated in a mumbling fashion. “Never see me again Tao. Never see me again Keane, Estella. Fuck you all. You’ll never see me again.” He stopped at the steps of a bar with a neon sign. It caught his eye, reminding him of a song he heard in a movie. He opened the door and entered. Amid the chaos of the tranquil clientele, Kieran bowed his head and stepped effortlessly into the shadows along the wall.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 13 February 2007 - 2am (Hong Kong Time)
...Flashback continued
Jade smiled politely at the Asian man who offered to light her cigarette but shook her head, wanting to ward off any potential advances that might intrude on the solitude she sought. She knew his type... One of the locals who modelled themselves after the movie idols that populated the Hong Kong silver screen. Fast talking, long haired playboys with thick skulls and incredibly bad dress sense. Withdrawing her own lighter, she turned her attention back to her drink, nursing it as she drew deeply on her cigarette.
The night was wrought with contradictions, most notably with Kieran. He liked the attention, but he didn’t like being put in the spotlight. However, he knew he had to emerge from the shadows. He always had his game-face on. It was a must for him. Nobody could witness him in his most naked, emotional state. A child in need. A child crying for love. But that’s what he craved most. Somebody to recognize that. Somebody to see past the darkness that he wears so vividly and coolly. He approached the bar and quietly asked for a double rye. There wasn’t much room tonight, as the weather forced everybody inside. He found a spot closest to the bartender. More peculiarly though, his subconsciousness found his way next to a woman clad in white with huge, almond-shaped eyes. He pulled out a Marlboro, but, much to his chagrin he didn’t have any matches on him. “Here’s your double,” the bartender broke Kieran’s daze bringing him back to his surroundings.
Jade looked up as Kieran reached over to take his drink. She was a little surprised to see someone like him in the bar. Most Caucasian men in Hong Kong preferred to frequent the multitude of clubs and dance halls in the Kowloon or Tsimshatsui district, where the drink flowed freely and there were hostesses aplenty to cater to their every whim and fancy. Jade watched as he patted his jacket pockets, obviously looking for a light he didn't have, before sliding hers across the bar top. She gave him a brief smile as their eyes met, before turning back to the man behind the counter and asking for another shot.
“Dor che,” he replied, taking another chance to look into her almond-shaped eyes. Jade continued staring in front of her, avoiding eye contact. Yet, she followed his eye movements in the mirror and took notice that he wasn’t looking at her anymore. Glaring elsewhere, Kieran slid back the lighter. He seized an opportunity to sit when the patron next to her left. Amid exhaling a white, twirling cloud of smoke, he asked through blowing lips, “It’s an interesting clientele tonight, don’t you think?”
Jade smiled inwardly, finding the stranger's words rather ironic since the pub's customers were mostly Asian males, which made him the odd one out. *Well...* she glanced down at her white outfit, *Him and me I guess.*
Jade's shoulders tensed as her gaze followed Kieran's to the door, where it was pinned on the three young men who'd just walked in. Her skin prickled. Vampires. She knew what they were. Did this stranger beside her know as well? Jade gave his granite profile a searching look. He did. She was almost sure of it. Jade kept her voice casual, "One never knows whom one might meet in Hong Kong..." but her eyes were watchful and trained on the vampires as they crossed the room towards the bar.
“Someone once told me that I had to quit. But, frankly, where’s the fun in that? Some of us are gonna die one day, no?” He lit up another one and offered one to the woman, regardless of the fact that her eyes were inconspicuously fixated on three young men. *A little odd, yeah, but what does this bird care?* He tried to read what her body was saying. Strangely, he caught himself amidst the daze of the scratching vinyl music and her delicately garbed skin. He couldn’t read her, which didn’t surprise him much. Distractions had run rampant in his life for the past few months. There never was a corner he turned where something unwanted or unexpected greeted him.
Suddenly, this woman intrigued him. She accepted his cigarette and waited for him to light it. A slow, bass-lined song came on. The thumps became heavier as the seconds rolled by. Without warning a scratching, almost hiss-like sound emerged. Jade took Kieran’s arm and led him into the sea of people. She put her hand around his neck.
She wanted the shadows the dance floor provided, to make herself as inconspicuous as possible and to observe the vampires, who were currently lingering around the side of the room. This part of Hong Kong was not the usual hunting ground for the city's nightlife, which was precisely why Valerian had chosen to reside there. *Away from the common filth...* Jade smirked slightly as she recalled her father's derisive tone.
*Why then, are these three hanging around?* The smoky beats grew louder. Jade smiled at the stranger who held her as she swayed in rhythm, but her sole focus was on hearing what was being said. She closed her eyes, seemingly lost in the music, and tuned her mind in to the vampires' conversation.
What she heard had Jade's eyes snapping back open in disbelief and a cold, dark rage fill her every vein. *So... Samantha's finally decided to surface from wherever she's been hiding.* Her lips tightened derisively. *And from what these three fledglings are saying, she's also decided to amass herself some muscle. Should have realised that the peace and quiet in Hong Kong was too good to last.*
Kieran was somewhat surprised. *Heh,* he thought to himself and let out a crooked smile. *A fiery bird indeed.* He hadn’t seen anyone with that much rage in their eyes in quite a while. Subconsciously, Kieran knew that there was a collective place for people like him. It wasn’t an establishment or recognized territory where they lived as one people, rather, a collective place that channeled all disorganized beings. These beings were composed of entities. Entities being every fit of rage, every single, melancholic emotion felt, every baring question asked or was too afraid to be asked. In some time, they would all funnel into ‘the dark’ whereby each entity went on a spiritual quest. Trouble is, many of them aren’t even aware of these connections.
Jade’s reaction wasn’t hard to decipher for Kieran. There wasn’t a soul on this planet who knew how to better read one’s eyes than he. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to care about the woman’s sudden change of mood. He continued to move around slowly. The music contrasted the sentiment of their eyes. Happy french horns were heard in the background to the constant industrial beats.
"What has got you all riled up?" he asked her.
Before she could think of a feasible excuse for her behaviour, Jade noticed that the vampires had evidently decided to leave. Pulling out of Kieran's arms she moved deftly across the room, barely noticing as he made to follow her. She pulled back the heavy door and stalked out onto the wet street, her sharp eyes identifying the three figures making their way down a nearby alleyway. *Perfect. Time for a little interrogation as to where little Sammie can be found.*
Jade slipped into the dark alley, her white outfit practically a beacon in the night. The vamps, immediately sensing her presence, turned. Their cautious stares quickly turning to leers as they took in Jade's slight figure and delicate skin. "Weeeeell," the one nearest to her drawled in accented Cantonese, "What have we got herrrrrrree?"
A cold smile flashed over Jade's face. "What you have," she replied, "is exactly thirty seconds to tell me where I find your sire. She and I... have a little business to discuss." The vampires evidently didn't believe her but even as they made to attack, a quick flick of her wrist had them stumbling back. "Be careful fledgings," she hissed. In the dim light, Jade's eyes took on a dangerous glint. "You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Kieran had followed the fleeing party, taking little pain to make himself unnoticeable. He looked around for a spot to observe. *Heh, let’s see what she’s made of.* Kieran moved to a neighboring alley and quickly climbed up the ladder, regardless of its slippery rungs. He made a quick scan of the rooftops before darting to the edge of the building which overlooked the ensuing melee. As he got there, Jade had disposed of the vampires effortlessly. A wide grin formed across Kieran’s face.
*When will men learn that even a woman who stands at 5"4 can pack a nasty punch?* As the dust settled, Jade sighed and rolled her eyes. Her warnings had gone unheeded and she'd had little choice but to kill all three vampires before they'd divulged the information she required. *Looks like Sammie girl will have a couple more days' reprive before daddy and I hunt her down.*
Looking up, Jade smiled sweetly at the man who'd danced with her and watched her fight. "Enjoyed the show?"
“Not bad. A little slow in some areas,” he smiled and jumped down, rolling forward across the ground to break his fall. As he got up he faced Jade. Their eyes met. They stared for a second. Although she looked at him sweetly, he felt something melancholic in her eyes. Kieran broke the gaze and shifted his body to leave when he told her, “I’m staying in Hong Kong for a bit. Some matters to take care of. It’s obvious we don’t fly with the domestic flock. I’m staying at the Emperor.” Before she could formulate a reply, he was gone from the alley. Jade came out into the open trying to spot Kieran, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found.
Jack Give Galen a Warning
Sunday, 4 March 2007 – 1:30pm
Chino Hills State Park
Galen sat on the park bench staring blankly ahead. It was a cold day and he had to flip up the collar of his coat in order to keep warm. He might have been forced to take a leave of absence but that didn’t mean he had to spend that time at home. As far as Kate and Jack were concerned he was still going to work every morning as usual. Besides, Galen liked the park. It was quiet and peaceful with lots of green scenery to look at. The solitude gave him time to think too… sometimes, too much time to think…
Jack’s eyes scanned the park with cool disdain as they fell upon the form of his son-in-law sitting upon a park bench. “I see him,” he spoke into his cell phone, “thanks for the tip, I owe you one.”
As he hung up he made his way across the park to the bench where Galen sat. He’d known something was wrong over the past two days and had taken it upon himself to find out what. Of course that had meant pulling in a few favours to get his son-in-law’s movements monitored but that was a small price to pay.
He heaved a sigh as he sat down next to him on the bench, staring directly ahead. “Kind of late for a lunch break don’t you think?”
Galen glanced over at the man before sighing and closing his eyes. “What are you doing here Jack?” he asked in irritation.
“I was gonna ask you the same question,” Jack turned to watch Galen, his eyes steely and uncompromising. “Why aren’t you at work?”
Galen returned his gaze to the horizon, watching a small child with his father as they struggled to fly a kite in the strong winds. “I’m… taking a break,” he said with another sigh.
“Hmmm? For how long?” asked Jack, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Galen turned his head slowly, a look of utter contempt in his eyes. “Let me guess,” continued Jack, “your boss sent you home, probably the first day you showed up there. I won’t ask how he knew, these things have a way for getting around.”
Galen’s eyes narrowed momentarily, focusing on his father-in-law. He knew he could read minds, probably better than Kate could, but something told him he was just using his intuition on this one. It probably didn’t take a genius to work out what had happened. “You seem to know everything.”
“I know you’re not fit to do your job right now. What I don’t know is why you’d rather keep up this pretence of going into work every morning or why you’d rather choose to come sit here than be at home with your wife. Why don’t you tell me why, Galen?”
“It’s none of your business,” said Galen curtly. Of course there was a very good reason, the reason being quite simply Kate. But he wasn’t about to tell Jack that his problem was with his daughter.
“Maybe not…” Jack’s eyes searched Galen for a hint of the truth but he was unreadable. “…but meanwhile Kate’s at home on her own, having to cope with arranging a funeral for her daughter. Don’t you even care? I would have thought you would have wanted to help at the very least, there must be things you want to say.”
Galen scoffed at Jack’s words and looked away. “It doesn’t really matter what I want since I’m not going to be at any funeral.”
Jack suddenly grabbed Galen by his coat, hauling him up from the bench with such force that Galen was taken completely by surprise. He knew that Jack was half demon but had never come face to face with the implications of that fact. Jack’s face was mere inches from his as he spoke, his words firm and uncompromising in their severity. “Oh you’re going if I have to drag you there myself,” he spat angrily, “Make no mistake about that Galen.”
Jack shoved Galen back down onto the bench, his eyes still glowing with anger as he stood, staring down at him. Galen stared back up, his coat gathered about his chin in an ungainly fashion as he waited motionlessly for what Jack might do next.
Jack took several deep breaths, composing himself before saying another word. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now but I’m warning you Galen, if you don’t show up at the funeral for whatever reason I will make you suffer for it. Do you understand?”
Galen nodded, his face a little pale. “I understand.”
A brief, uneasy look passed over Jack for a moment, but it vanished quickly, leaving only the proficient and capable man in its wake. “Good, I’ll let Kate know that you’re coming home early tonight also, you’ve spent too much time at ‘work’ lately. You deserve a little time off.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 3rd March 2007 - 9:21am
1318 Poplar Avenue, Alhambra
Tyler pulled to the kerb half a block from the apartment building and shut his car off and simply sat, surveying the street before him. Having spent the last five months taking every precaution known to man to assure the safety of his family, Tyler was not about to start slacking off again. He need only think back to Madrid, and the hotel therein, where Tyler had left two more bodies behind him. The price of sloppiness was someone’s life.
“What’s the hold up?” Shawn’s voice clipped with impatience and fear. The boy rarely spoke to Tyler these days without at least the former, and Tyler couldn’t bring himself to blame him.
“Just one minute, Shawn.” Contrastingly, Tyler’s words held nothing but patience. Five months on the road had not cured the boy’s anger at what Tyler did when he left the Balance, leaving Shawn and Kelly to fear and worry in Spain, and Tyler understood all too well. He'd been even younger when he saw his first murder.
“One minute? Yeah, let’s stay in the open as long as…”
“Shawn, not now.” Kelly Hyatt’s eyes were scanning the street as well, waiting for Tyler’s cue. “There something out there?”
“I don’t think so.” Tyler reached to his hip and drew the Sig, checking the ammo and popping the slide. “But the company had a tag on the building when I was here before.”
“How long ago was that?” Kelly, unlike her son, spoke easily enough.
“Two years.” Tyler undid his seat belt. “Out of the car.”
“If it’s been that long, they’ve probably already gotten what they wanted.” Kelly and Shawn stepped out of the car with Tyler, shutting their doors quietly.
“It wasn’t that kind of tag.” Tyler crossed the car, signalling Shawn and Kelly to come closer. “I want to sweep in through an alley in front of the building. We can get at it from one street down.”
“Right.” Kelly cast a glance to the end of the street, plotting the route. “Where am I?”
“The rear. Keep your eyes open.”
Tash sat in the office, staring at the latest report from the Foundation’s stockbrokers. Apparently they could expect a sizeable dividend payment from their various holdings, but Tash just couldn’t get enthused about it. She sat staring with unseeing eyes at the paper, her heart weighing heavily in her chest.
Emma was dead.
She still couldn’t believe it. Of all the deaths they’d had recently – Chance, Sorrow, Victor – Emma’s was the most incomprehensible. The others had died as warriors, fighting to save a world full of people. They’d all known the risks associated with being who and what they were. But Emma… she was just a baby, hadn’t even had a chance to begin to live.
She sighed, putting down the report and decided to do some training for a while, to work off some of her feelings of helplessness, before heading back to see how Kate was doing. Standing, she stretched the kinks out of her back and glanced out the window to the sunshine outside. Movement caught her eye and she frowned, stepping closer to the window to get a better look.
“Son of a…”
Moments later she was downstairs, treading carefully through the basement to emerge just after the three had passed by the steel door. The woman was at the back, the older blond haired man at the front. All three whirled to face her as Tash stepped into the alleyway.
“Can I help you?” she asked archly.
At the sound of the woman’s voice, Kelly leapt forward and grabbed Shawn, pulling him in behind her and spinning, her hand landing on a Heckler P2000 and whipping it to the forefront. Any more she would have done was stopped, however, when a trigger was pulled, and a bullet hole appeared in the wall four inches from the woman’s head. Kelly turned her head as Tyler approached, the suppressor on his Sig smoking. There was something in his eyes that had her clearing a path. It had been there five months ago, when he met them at the hotel in Madrid.
As the man and the woman drew their weapons, Tash responded in kind. She barely flinched when the man fired a shot that whizzed past her head to embed itself in the brickwork next to her. He didn’t have to miss. She knew that. She also sensed a great deal of protectiveness from him towards the woman and the boy. Her first impulse had been to aim her gun at the woman, to force the man to back down, but instinct told her that if she did that she’d be dead in seconds.
So instead she held her gun unwaveringly at the man’s chest, as he advanced towards her. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to answer her question.
"The next one's in your heart if my wife has a barrel in her face any longer." Tyler moved in beside Kelly, obstructing the woman's shot, and allowing Kelly to turn Shawn to face the alley while she backed Tyler up.
Tash noted the red spikes in the man's aura, and knew the truth of his words. But she also knew she had an edge – she'd have a split-second's warning before he actually pulled the trigger. That confidence showed in her voice. "Maybe. But if I'm dead, so are you. What I'd like to know is: why are you skulking around my building, armed to the teeth?"
Her aim stayed steadily at the centre of the man's chest as she spoke, not shifting its focus.
"It's a quicker move for defense if some wiseass decides to jump out behind us if we're in an alley." Tyler locked his eyes on the woman's face. "And you're one to talk about being armed."
“Your building?” Kelly spoke before the woman could answer. She saw total disaster coming with this. “You own this place?”
Keeping her gaze locked with the man’s, Tash nodded slightly at the woman’s question. “Yep, my place. And I’m defending it, hence the weaponry. What’s your excuse?”
Kelly sighed audibly. "Tyler, put the gun down."
"No. Her first."
"This little visit is going to be awkward enough at this point, let's not compound it by shooting the person we're about to ask to be our landlord." Kelly put her hand on Tyler’s gun and holstered her own.
Kelly relaxed a bit as the black woman lowered her gun. "I'm sorry about this. I'm Kelly Hyatt, my husband Tyler, our son Shawn." Kelly grinned at the whole thing. "We're looking for a place in the city, and you can rest assured there's a good explanation. It's just kind of a long story."
“So do you often check out prospective apartment buildings by going commando in the back alleyway?” Tash holstered her weapon, glad she’d not had to use it on a human being.
Holstering his weapon, Tyler took care to relax his tone and spoke before Kelly could, knowing his wife would be more than content to calm things down right where they stood. "I'd prefer to have this conversation indoors."
"I'm sure you would, Mr Hyatt." Tash paused for several long moments, surveying the three people before her. The boy was nervous, the woman embarrassed and the man... belligerence rolled from him in waves.
“I have to tell you that I don’t take kindly to people sneaking around my back door, then pulling guns on me when I come out to ask what’s going on. But,” Tash forestalled further argument, “if you promise to behave, you may come inside.”
"Believe me I have no intention of complicating the matter further." Tyler told himself in no uncertain terms to chill, and felt Kelly's hand on his forearm, doing the same. "My family and I have a good explanation for every action we've taken thus far, but one way or another I'm not standing in this alley any longer." Tyler gestured to the door Tash emerged from. "If you would lead the way..."
Tash relaxed her control over her senses, alert for any sign of ambush as she walked back through the door with the Hyatt family behind her. Walking through the basement, at least, she was confident that she was safe enough – the basement guardian would deal with them if they attempted to attack her in here. However, she felt no ill intent and the four of them ascended the stairs to the first floor without incident.
From there, Tash took them to the second floor office – converted from the apartment that had once been Victor’s before he moved in with her. The procession had remained quiet as they moved through the building, and Tash had used the silence to wonder why they’d come visiting. Had they heard about the Foundation, perhaps, and were looking for help? The woman, Kelly, had mentioned they were looking for a place to stay, but Tash hadn’t been advertising apartments to let and didn’t believe in coincidence.
She gestured to the couches arrayed in what had once been the living room and was now the reception area for those rare times Tash had business visitors. Kelly and Shawn sat, but Tyler declined, staying on his feet beside his wife. Tash leant against the edge of her desk and regarded the three.
“Ok, let’s hear this explanation.”
Tyler paced the room, getting the lay of it and moving to the nearest window, glancing out. He faced deliberately away from the woman, contemplating. "I've actually been here before. I spoke to a man named Victor Tek. Is he here?"
Tash closed her eyes for a second, forcing her pain down before answering in a flat tone, "No. No, he's not here any more. I now own this place. I’m his wife, Tash. Natasha Brookes ." She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on Tyler, "What business did you have with him?"
Tyler caught a level of pain in Tash's voice, but chose not to acknowledge it. "He helped me square away the death of a friend of mine. He was actually dusted on the landing of your staircase a couple of years ago." He turned away from the window and leaned against the wall. "His name was Ryan. You might have known him. I'd been tracking him since he was turned, so I could give him peace."
He took in a breath, and put his eyes on Tash's face. "When I was here, there was a tag on your building. Surveillance. That's why we were in the alley."
Tash thought back to just over two years ago. The vampire on the landing, the one Sorrow had dusted, the one with the sword that Victor subsequently kept on their wall. Until the day it vanished. She nodded.
“I didn’t know him, but I knew of him,” she said. “Victor also told me of the man who came one day looking for that vampire. Victor told me that man understood honour.” Tash let herself relax her guard a fraction more.
“As for the surveillance, there’ve been several times various people have watched this building, but so far as I know there aren’t any right now. Of course,” she shrugged and smiled, “it wouldn’t be a terribly good surveillance operation if the residents knew about it.”
"I only spotted it because I knew what to look for. I used to work with the men behind it." Tyler got off the wall and paced back over to Kelly. "They... we were part of a network of government organizations charged with monitoring and controlling the supernatural. My particular group was charged with monitoring and policing Majestic 12. Are you familiar with Majestic Twelve?"
Tash’s nod was accompanied by a small groan.
"You're very familiar, I take it." Tyler put a hand on his wife's shoulder and relaxed just a little. "I was with the US Army Special Forces, attachment Delta, assigned to Project Balance based out of Dallas. We dealt with any security risks to the secret."
Tyler stopped himself before he used the word eliminated. "I split from the group when Ryan was turned. He died because he and I were sent into an ambush in San Francisco. The rest of the project has since been trying to kill me. And the best way to kill me, well, you can figure that out."
Kelly patted Tyler's hand and took over. "When he split with the group Tyler sent Shawn and me to Spain, hid us. Five months ago we were found."
Tyler moved away from the chair and stepped toward Tash. "The reason we're here is this: first, The Balance does not put eyes on a place like this unless there's a reason. Second, the security here was the best I've seen in any apartment building. And I've seen more of this world than you'd believe."
When Tyler and Kelly finished speaking Tash let out a breath. It was refreshing to have someone just come out and tell her what was going on with them, at least. “More government types, I should have known,” she muttered, though a half-smile tempered her words.
“Ok then, yeah, I have a passing acquaintance with Majestic 12, through one of its ex-agents. They helped us out with a problem we had eighteen months ago with a particular beastie, but I’ve not heard much about them since.” She ran her hand through her short hair and sighed.
“So now there’s yet another layer of conspiracy watching the conspiracy agencies. You know, I sometimes wonder if there can be any people left doing the jobs they say they’re doing, rather than working for some secret organisation.” Tash subsided, knowing that these days technically she fell into exactly that category. “So, you’re looking for a place to hide. But if your organisation – sorry, ex organisation – was watching this place once, doesn’t that make it unsafe for you?”
Tyler chuckled at Tash's annoyance, but nodded. "The ideal solution would be if I could stay on the road. But it's not that simple. When they found my wife they...I was able to hide them before because I had prepared a set of identities. But the company is watching now, and everything I know, they know."
Tyler turned back around and walked away a bit. "I can't hide them again, because people are watching. Three people on the run for too long is suicide. So we've got to settle in somewhere until another solution presents itself. And the fact that you didn't know about this tag means they didn't move on whatever they were here for. If they didn't move, they thought it wasn't worth the risk. And since the men of this company are the best of the best, that's some risk."
Tash had to grin. "Let's just say we've got a few resources of our own here. It's possible to storm this building. Your vampire Ryan was part of just such an assault. But we fought them off, and that was in the days before we were organised."
The man's sincerity was palpable, as was Kelly's worry. They bore the air of desperation. "Before I say yes I need to know one thing." She held each of their gazes in turn, ending on Tyler. "What's your take on demonkind in general?"
“It varies." Tyler spoke plainly, as always. "They go jumping out behind me, ill intentions or otherwise, I tend to not take it well." Tyler's comment drew a glare from his wife. "The same as humans. Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone."
“All right,” Tash nodded carefully, “It’s just that if I let you stay, I don’t want you murdering any of the other residents or their guests. Some are less human than others, but none will attack you without cause.”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Tash straightened from the desk and disappeared into the next room to return a moment later with a pair of keys. “I may live to regret this, but I’ve always had trouble with the homeless puppy bit. The house is fairly full at the moment, but I do have one apartment I can let. It was the old landlady’s flat, then Victor converted it to a front office. Now it’s just empty. Apartment 100. If you want it, you can stay.”
"Thank you." Tyler reached a hand out, took the keys. "I'm sorry I put a hole in your wall."
"You'll get the bill."
A thousand thank you's to Heather for the brilliant Tash writing.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 2nd
Café Tifosi
11: 33 pm
*The city has changed much. It seems hollow. Its faces are filled with fear. It is better than desperation and melancholy I guess. Much of my time has been in futile searching. I have lost myself. Immersed myself deeper in the chasm of solitude. I am becoming him. * Estella approached the Café Tifosi and hesitated before opening its blue opaque glass door. She looked at the sky. *I am becoming you, Kieran. The monster inside me is growing.*
A hostess greeted her upon entrance. “Good evening, madam. Will it be for one?” she asked, wasting no time in picking up a menu and motioning for Estella to follow.
“Two. I am expecting an old acquaintance,” she replied, her futile expression long gone from her eyes.
Roxana watched her old friend enter the café and sit down on a table near the bar. The place she had suggested was small and cosy, the Italian atmosphere was relaxing and Laura Pausini’s voice filled the room with its languid quality. Once again she wondered how Estella had known of such a place. She took some minutes to observe the vampiress from her corner before standing up and walking towards her.
“Come stai, Estella?” she asked, leaning on her friend’s shoulder, and smiling when the woman turned around surprised.
“Roxana! Sto bellissima,” she answered as they exchanged kisses on each other’s cheeks.
Her friend knew better. “Is that so? I’ve watched you for a few minutes. Your face has shown anything but. Your eyes. They are not their misguiding selves. I can sense a pain in them. There is some despair.”
“Barista! Due espresso, grazie.” Estella returned her attention to Roxana. “Life has been complicated to say the least. It’s obvious the same can be said of this city. What has happened?”
“Happened?” Roxana gave her friend a quizzical, yet sarcastic look. She took out a cigarette and offered one to Estella. As she accepted, Roxana threw Estella off balance. “Of course you wouldn’t know what has happened since you followed that mortal around the world. Complicated. It depends on who you speak to. Changes. Yes. Many. Estella, I remember the days, when it was not but two years ago that life treated us well.” She exhaled lightly, watching the thin wisps rise to the crimson ceiling.
At her friend’s silence, Roxana turned her eyes from her. There were a couple of men checking them out from another table, and the vampiress avoided their stares. In other moment she would have found it fun to sport with them, but Estella got her whole attention now.
“So, cara. What is it you really wanted to ask?” she watched her intently, and sipped her espresso. “Because I could give you an accurate recount of what’s happened in LA in the last six months, but I think that’s not what you want to know.”
“Bah. Roxana. Frankly, I don’t care what has happened. I am much too involved with my own life. Besides, I was merely commenting on an observation I made. I didn’t call you simply to recount my travels.” Estella let her cigarette continue to burn. She spotted the two men at the table as well. She looked at the red-tinged ash and then back at the two men. *My my my, what a night we can have.*
Roxana noticed that Estella’s lust for blood disappeared as quickly as it had come. Unexpected though. *I’ll give her that much, she never ceases to be predictable.*
Estella spoke. “I would be foolish to assume you don’t know the gist of my disappearance. But I ask you? Have you ever felt a bond, albeit unspoken, but nevertheless a bond that went straight into you and gutted you out?”
The vampiress leaned back in her seat, her arm extended and the cigarette consuming itself, forgotten in her hand. *Do I know? Have I?* Estella just returned Roxana's gaze, calmly sipping her own espresso.
“I might,” Roxana answered, not exposing herself, but her thoughts were clear in her eyes. “I gather it is the mortal you are talking about?” she asked, avoiding the question.
“Because we are friends I’ll give you an obvious answer. But why is it that Roxana now plays the avoidance game?” Estella smirked, this time taking a haul from her cigarette. She raised two fingers to the bartender, motioning him to bring more espressos.
Roxana dryly smiled and crossed her legs. “You called, love. It’s you in the spotlight at the moment. Grazie,” she nodded to the bartender.
“He left late last summer. A Legionnaire...” Roxana’s eyes widened out of surprise. “Yes, a Legionnaire. I thought it surprising as well. He caught onto Selena and the flock. Girl must have feasted in the desert over there. Only explanation I can think of as to why he would be here. She, unlike some people I know, isn’t hard to find. Long story short, Kieran played him hard and took his life. Again, I was surprised by him. He is lost. But I never knew him to take a life. Then two weeks later he does one of those disappearing acts that he’s getting much too good at.”
“Selena is here?” Roxana was surprised, indeed. She didn’t know much of Estella’s human, but she hadn’t heard of Selena being in LA.
“No, no. We went separate ways.” Estella pulled her hair backwards, despair in her eyes. “It’s been eight months, Roxana, since he disappeared.”
Roxana nodded. She could see the other's distress. Eight months was a long time for a mortal, especially one who played the dangerous game Kieran was playing. “Why did you return here, cara? Did you hear of something?”
“No. Nothing. That is what puzzles me. And that is what has got me frustrated and angry. We are vampires. Blood. Feasts. Debauchery. We are not detectives. We do not run fool’s errands. Ah Roxana, I long for the red rain days anew.”
“But why come here?” she asked again, not understanding if Estella was avoiding the question or just lost in herself.
“Number of reasons. What little there was in his apartment is still there. I know he plans to return. I just don’t know why he left.” Estella caught a glimpse of a tall man who went to the bathroom. “That man.”
“Who?” Roxana looked around.
“He was alone. He gave us a few glances, nothing more. Just sat there. He looked at me quickly before going in back. Anyways. I wasn’t even able to pick up his scent. I can’t think clearly anymore. My sanity is slipping. I came, mostly, because I need your help. Per piacere.” She put down her cup and looked to the side, not wanting to show her vulnerability to her friend.
Roxana took another cigarette and allowed the waiter to light it, the distraction helping her clear her thoughts. “Grazie,” she said and inhaled deeply, her gaze returning to Estella who was still avoiding her eyes.
She worried for her. It wasn’t like Estella to despair like this, not over a man, at least. “I might be able to help you,” she smiled tightly when the vampiress turned to look at her. “Well, not me, actually, but this vampire I’m living with.”
“Oh, so that’s how things are, Roxana. Is that the amore you didn’t want to talk about?” Estella smiled, her troubles forgotten for a moment.
Her friend waved her hand, dismissing the question. “He is a powerful mage too. He could help you find Kieran if you want.” She lowered her voice and looked at Estella. “At least he’ll tell you if he’s still alive.”
Estella didn’t think it fair that she was out in the open with her emotions like this, while her friend just sat there offering solutions to answers. *Haven’t I come here for this?* She looked at Roxana, smiled and replied, “How could your 'friend' find someone I cannot? I know my way around the globe.”
Roxana shrugged. “He’s a mage. If Kieran’s alive, he will find him.” She smiled, “And no need to travel the globe.”
Estella took a sip of her espresso and pondered the proposition. She looked again at the back of the bistro noting that the man hadn’t reappeared yet. *Why must you be so sketchy, Roxana? * She tried to balance out the possible repercussions of trying such a thing. *Maybe I should give it a go once again. But then...* “What’s in it for you?” she asked while blowing some smoke towards the ceiling.
The other just puffed a cloud of smoke slowly and smiled again. “Oh… Why would I want something? Wouldn’t helping an old friend be reward enough?” At the sight of Estella’s curved eyebrow she couldn’t help but laugh. “No, really. I don’t want anything, you should know better. For old times' sake.”
Estella was careful to not show her uncertainty. *I’m not a fool, Roxana. I don’t show anything I don’t want to.* It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend, but, after all, there wasn’t exactly an honor among vampiresses to respect. Moreover, she had never met this... 'powerful mage'. “Fine. I’ll take you up on your offer. I shall not forget this.”
Roxana smiled a satisfied smile and put out her cigarette. This would take Morris' mind from that damn demoness and make him think about something else; she was getting tired of his… ‘obsession’. She looked around and noticed the two men still watching them. This time she didn’t avoid their glances and smiled openly at them, then she turned to Estella again. “Why not have some fun together?” she asked, and winked at her. “For old times’ sake?”
“Always a pleasure love. Always a pleasure.” They got up and paid for their espressos before winking at the men, who promptly followed them out.
daye learns about emma
*** Saturday, March 3, 2007 around 8 pm ***
Daye put the phone down slowly and turned towards Drew, tears streaming down her face. Marco, the Langley’s butler, had informed her of the message from Natasha Brookes as soon as they’d stepped in the door from their outing with his parents. They’d spent the day hiking and picnicking by a lake a few miles up from the Langley estate. Daye had enjoyed herself immensely, even though she was still feeling a bit under the weather. She’d gone to bed when she got home late Thursday afternoon, and fallen into a deep sleep. She hadn’t woken up until that morning. Drew and Sam had decided she really needed the rest after the whirlwind rescue of Alessa, and apparently the whole ordeal had taken more out of her than she’d realized, because even after sleeping well over 24 hours she’d woken feeling tired and achy. She had the beginnings of a head cold as well.
Of course, none of that mattered in the least once she got on the phone with Tash. As soon as the other woman started talking, Daye felt as if the floor dropped out from under her. She’d let out an anguished cry which had brought Drew running into the room and he now stood beside her, his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders.
“Baby, what is it?” Drew asked, guiding Daye to the sofa in his father’s study as she began to cry. “What’s happened?”
“Oh Drew,” Daye sobbed, turning into his arms for much needed comfort. “It’s Emma. She…she…”
Drew couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Emma, dear sweet Emma… There couldn’t be anything wrong with the little girl he’d watched playing with Maia so many times. It was impossible. She was just a baby. Still as Daye tearfully explained about the disease she’d suddenly come down with, about the desperate struggle in the hospital, he was forced to admit it was true. He cuddled his fiancé close to him and rocked gently, but he offered no platitudes, no useless words. He too cried.
“Amanda, God, I don’t know…” Drew choked out finally. “I’m so sorry. Poor Kate… and Galen, oh, how he must be feeling. He must be devastated. I can’t imagine… If anything ever happened to Maia… I just… I couldn’t…”
Daye sniffled, pulling back to look at the man she loved. She understood just exactly what he meant, but a part of her was surprised by his words. She knew deep inside how much he’d come to love their little girl, but Maia wasn’t his daughter and sometimes she wondered if that still caused him concerns. As she listened to him grieving for Emma, though, she knew her musings were unfair. He didn’t think of Maia as anything but his daughter. That was quite apparent now.
“I know,” Daye reached up and gently stroked Drew’s cheek. “I feel the same way… oh… I have to go see Kate. I need to let her know if there’s anything…”
“Baby, wait,” Drew took hold of Daye’s hand as she rose to her feet and prepared to rush off.
Daye stopped at his gentle touch, and turned her tear streaked face back to him. “Wait? Why?”
“It’s late…” Drew replied, glancing at the big grandfather clock in the corner. “I think maybe Kate and Galen would appreciate the concern more in the morning, don’t you?”
Daye nodded, looking chagrined. “Right, of course you’re right,” she said. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. It’s obviously too late to go over there now. By the time I got there, they’d probably already be asleep.”
Daye laughed hollowly. “I don’t suppose they’re resting all that well, though. Still, it wouldn’t be right to disturb them now, and besides, I don’t think I want to take Maia over there with me. I don’t know how well Kate would be able to handle seeing her just yet.”
Drew nodded, slowly getting to his feet. He held on to Daye’s hand. “Yeah, that might be hard for her so soon after…”
His voice trailed off as another lump rose in his throat. *How can they possibly be bearing up after that?* he thought, squeezing Daye’s hand.
Daye nodded solemnly, unwilling to finish the sentence that hung in the air between them. Somehow it was less real if they didn’t say it out loud, but it was still true. *Emma, poor little Emma. It’s not right. She was so innocent, so good. Sometimes I just don’t understand anything.*
“Is everything okay?” Drew and Daye turned towards the door as Charis, Peter and Sam came into the room. Maia was cuddled up in Charis arms, sound asleep. At the sight of her, Drew and Daye both fought the urge to grab her and hold her tight.
“No, I’ve had some bad news,” Daye replied. She led them back into the other room, quietly explaining what had happened.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 4th, 12:12 AM
Darian's Apartment
“What happened to you?”
*And here we go,* Cole sighed inwardly as Darian took note of the massive bruise that now marred the boy’s youthful face. “It’s not a big deal,” he said, trying to brush it off as nothing and, considering other potential outcomes that could have occurred, a simple bruise was just that, nothing.
“Well it doesn’t look like nothing to me. Were you fighting? Are you ok?”
The boy didn’t answer. Darian wouldn’t want to hear that he had almost been killed by a vamp, or the fact that he and Quin had been rescued by a mysterious werewolf. No, he definitely would not want to hear that. Instead, Cole just pushed by his friend and headed for his room. “It’s really nothing, ok. Anyways I’m really tired, I’m going to bed.”
“But wai -”
click
The boy’s bedroom door closed swiftly; a blatant sign of “I don’t want to talk now”. The fae deliberated whether or not to pursue the issue; on one hand he was worried, but on the other he knew Cole was dealing with a lot now. *Tomorrow, I’ll talk to him tomorrow.*
Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Cole slumped on his bed, grateful that Darian had decided to drop the topic for now. *Tomorrow, I'll tell him tomorrow.* On that first and final thought, the boy’s eyes drifted closed, as he soon fell into a well deserved slumber.
****
“Little boy blue, why must you snore so loud? You’ll wake everyone up.”
“Huh, wha… just a few more minutes, I’m so tired,” Cole yawned lazily, rolling over in the small bed, draped in crisp white sheets.
“You’ll sleep away your life, and when you open your eyes again, you’ll be old and wrinkly,” the tiny girl’s voices teased, as she playfully poked him in the forehead.
That voice… how did he know that voice? It was so familiar, it sounded just like the girl from the…
“Why do you seemed to surprised to see me?” she giggled as Cole opened his eyes. “Just because the Queen of Hearts is gone doesn’t mean the book is finished, silly.”
Another dream.
He was in a hospital room. It was dimly lit, very creepy… he was alone, save for that little girl again. She was dressed as a candy striper, how odd… then again, odd was her thing.
“What do you want with me this time?” he asked impatiently, as he threw off the white covers and got out of bed. He was no longer dressed in the clothes he had fallen asleep in, but was instead garbed in a thin hospital gown. “And why the hell am I wearing this!”
“It’s what all sick people have to wear,” she said as if the answer had been obvious. “Now come along, visiting hours are almost done and we have a lot of people to see.” The girl reached out, and placed her small hand in Cole’s, urging him to follow out into the corridor.
“But I’m not sick,” the boy huffed, trying to stop – but his legs continued obediently following the tiny guide.
“We’ve come to the chapter of the big bad wolf. Its not a pleasant one you see, he has rabies that will make everyone ill.”
The girl turned abruptly, and led Cole into another room. “See, people are already checking themselves in.”
Cole was somewhat taken aback by what, or rather who, he saw. Alessa, Amanda, Quin and the mysterious werewolf man were all lying unconscious on separate beds.
“There are more to come,” the girl added sadly, pulling Cole back through the door.
They were in a waiting room.
Sitting on the plain, black plastic chairs, Tash, Adriana, and Vincent were browsing through magazines.
“Tash? Tash what are you doing here?”
The woman turned the page of the horribly out-of-date Reader’s Digest, not even so much as blinking to his shouts.
“Shhhh don’t yell, the sick people need their rest,” the girl tsk tsked.
“Ring around the Rosey, Pocket full of Posey,” Adriana began to hum quietly, as she gazed impatiently to a clock which hung on the wall. “ Achoo Achoo, We all fall down.”
“Visiting Hours are over,” a monotone voice rang out through the intercome.
“Oh, I’m afraid you have to leave now, boy blue.” The girl’s hand slipped away, as she began to walk backwards.
“Wait no, I don’t understand any of this. Why are they sick, how do I help them? Help myself?”
“If you want to get better, you have to kill Tinkerbelle,” the girl’s voice rang out distantly, before finally fading into nothingness.
* * *
The next morning
Cole’s blood-shot eyes slammed opened, as the brutally annoying sound of the alarm clock commanded him to awake, heralding another school day. “What is with these crazy dreams,” he thought aloud, as he mindlessly scribbled down Kill Tinkerbelle is the cure? on a notepad that rested on the bedside table. *Whatever the hell that meant.*
Placing the pad down, Cole zombishly walked towards the closet to retrieve his housecoat. Unfortunately, before he could make the three step trek, he managed to stub his toe against the foot of the bed.
“GOD DAMN *&%&^%!” he roared in uncharacteristic anger, before slamming his fist against the wall in a sudden burst of fury.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***** March 05th 2007 - 5 a.m. – Simryn’s Apartment*****
The diluted morning light filtered through the windows, casting the empty hallway in eerie gray silence. Opening the door slightly, Simryn peeked out, her green gaze flickering covertly up and down the hall to ensure its lack of inhabitants before she slipped through on her clandestine task. Shutting the door carefully she winced when the hinges creaked under her hand but thankfully she couldn’t detect any movement from inside the apartment. Simryn sighed with relief; as far as she could tell Vivek slept like the dead but it didn’t hurt to be too cautious.
A pang gripped her heart as she remembered the last consequence of her carelessness and her body stiffened. The haunting images came less and less often these days but their intensity never faded and each time was as a blow to her spirit. The mindless peace offered by being in open air beckoned, so brushing away the remnants of memory, the Kshatrani moved quietly, her bare feet skimming over the carpet as she stole toward the stairway leading up to the terraced rooftop.
With her hand just on the doorknob Simryn glanced briefly down the stairwell. She thought she’d just heard something but nothing stirred and after a second she slid past the last barrier to the quiet outside.
Nikolai stopped at the top of the steps to the apartment, just in time to see a woman slip through the door leading to the roof. He stopped for a moment out of curiosity. It seemed… suspicious. The brief flash was enough to tell him that the person there was Simryn, his new neighbour. There were, he thought, plenty of reasons to be curious and worried about that.
It was the same kind of movement he made while on a job.
It was a way of going through a door that you used to make sure nobody was noticing you, and if they did, that you could look confused and bullshit your way out of it. Nikolai followed behind as quietly as possible.
Over the past few months, he had seen the new neighbours a few times. When Simryn was around, she was never without Vivek – except for one time when she had needed help to fix something while Vivek was out. Simryn always seemed nice enough, if a little odd, very patient in dealing with the former assassin.
The same could not be said for Vivek, who never managed to get along with Nikolai. Neither ever really trusted the other, the former regarding the latter as too nosy for his own good, while Nikolai could never really like the man after the first impression he’d received of him. As a result there was an amount of cool politeness between them that never really went anywhere.
As soon as he got up to the open roof, Nikolai pressed himself against the wall, inching his way out until Simryn’s lithe figure came into his sight.
The sun rose slowly, washing the land in pale gold. With her cinnamon skin burnished by the light, Simryn stood with her back to Nikolai and faced the dawn with her arms spread up to the firmament. She wore a white cotton sarong that fluttered in the soft breeze, molding to the shape of her body and a similar bandana was wrapped around her chest.
As though unaware of him, Simryn went through a series of unhurried, sinuous stretches, the tips of her ebony locks brushing against the bare skin of her waist as she dipped and curved her limbs. The dance-like movements seemed almost magical in this hour before the city awakened and in puzzlement Nikolai noticed that instead of the usual sound of rushing cars and crowded streets, the chiming of bells accompanied the lone woman’s steps.
He looked around surreptitiously for the source of the noise and then it suddenly changed, coming toward him like in jarring steps. Looking up Nikolai was greeted by Simryn’s icy stare. “You were following me,” she said simply.
“I was concerned,” he invented quickly, feeling her annoyance and curiosity with him. “All I saw was the door closing, and knew the maintenance man is not normally up here at this time.” Looking down, he stifled a grin as he noticed the string of bells tied around her ankles. So that’s where the sound had been coming from, she must have taken them off earlier when she’d sneaked away from her over-protective “brother”.
Simryn was not buying it. She could tell three things right away: that he had deliberately followed her, that he was very good at moving stealthily as though he had been trained to do it, and that he didn’t intend her any harm. Nikolai, she felt, would have already done something if he wanted to.
“I thank you for your concern,” she dipped her head graciously though a wry smile played about her full lips. “As you can see I am quite unharmed.” The man grinned back at her; he seemed to realize how lame his excuse had been though he did not offer an apology. For some reason Simryn had the distinct feeling that he was laughing at her and she wondered if she should be offended.
As if realizing her change in mood, Nikolai turned to look out toward the horizon where the rising buildings were visible against the lightening sky. “Why do you come up here?” he asked softly as if not wanted to disturb the almost reverent quiet of the time and place, “does it remind you of home?”
Following his gaze, Simryn tried to see through his eyes, wondering how he perceived this world. It would be much different from her own. “Hardly,” she replied, untangling a lock of hair the wind had woven around her neck, “for one it is much warmer in my homeland than here. But… I suppose that when I look up, I find peace knowing I am under the same sky. Even though everything else in my life has changed, that still stays the same.”
Her voice trembled, and Nikolai knew even without his empathic abilities that she had not had many things she could rely on in her life.
Nikolai walked out onto the roof, looking at the city. Looking out over L.A. at night was like looking at God’s Light Bright, especially if you happened to be flying in. Everything tended to be lit up and illuminated. The thought that everything had changed was a big one, he knew. “In my experience, everything is motion and nothing remains unchanged. We can’t even step in the same river twice.”
Turning back towards her, he smiled as the thought occurred to him. “It is possible to take comfort in that, of course, as the universe loves nothing so much as it does change.”
Simryn nodded, “Your words are wiser than your age would imply,” she spoke wryly, and realized with a start that she meant what she’d said. From her somewhat limited experience the people in this new world seemed fixated on the aesthetics of their tedious lives. Though truthfully she couldn’t judge any of them, since her arrival she had not had the chance to know anyone in depth. But the Kshatrani sensed that the man standing pensively beside her had secrets running deeper than what he allowed the world to see.
*No, I just share my mind with a demon,* he thought. “You give me far too much credit. I’m just a plain, simple man.” Though even that wasn’t the case; it had never been for a long time, from former assassin to his current state. Still he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by this woman. What else was there to her that she was not saying? Surely there was some other reason she had for coming up here. “I must confess, I’m surprised to see you without your cousin.”
The musical sound of bells tinkled as Simryn moved away abruptly and her expression was hidden from Nikolai as she tried to remember how Vivek had originally introduced them. “My brother,” she coughed to cover up the uncertainty in her voice and was astonished to feel his hand softly patting her back. Clearing her throat awkwardly, her voice quivered when she spoke, “He has been busy with completing our task here in the city, I think he misses home as much as I do though he hides it better.”
Though her coughing had subsided, Nikolai continued to rub his warm palm in soft circles between her shoulder blades. Though she was unaware of it, Simryn leaned into his touch and her head feel forward, her eyes fluttering shut on a soft sigh. It had been so long since she had been touched. Vivek always escorted her around but his handling of her was always brusque, emotionless, and impersonal. Yet it had been nigh over a hundred years since anyone had embraced her with any affection and she craved that simple sensation of skin on skin as much, if not more than she needed to breathe.
Her sudden turn had confirmed for Nikolai what he already suspected: the two of them were in all likelihood not related at all. It was enough to make him wonder what exactly their real relation was - and why Simryn put up with him. Still there was a feeling below the surface as he touched her, something.
Abruptly Nikolai stopped. *What are you doing?* he thought. “I, I’m sorry,” he got out, as though realizing what he had been doing. “I shouldn’t have....” Why did he feel so awkward all of a sudden?
The loss of his touch sent a shiver through Simryn as if a cold wind had raked her body. Discomfited and restless, she rubbed her hands over her tingling skin. “Thank you for your concern,” she mimicked her earlier words though this time they held no censure but her voice was edged with a brittle sharpness that hadn’t been there earlier either.
“If you’ll forgive me I must return to my exercises,” she said quietly, careful not to touch him, as she brushed past, returning to her position near the edge of the stone balustrade. Going through the habitual motions, Simryn forced herself not to glance back to see if Nikolai was still there. Her blood felt heated and her skin tingled, she knew she was blushing but she told herself it was due to her exertions rather than any effect he had on her person.
The sun was more than halfway up and already the city began to come alive. She would have to return to her small apartment soon, before Vivek awoke and questioned her whereabouts with his cold eyes. Going through the end of her routine, a single thought plagued her though she tried not to dwell on it. Why had he moved away? There were only two answers and Simryn’s movements grew more irregular as she considered them. Was it because he thought she would be offended by his forwardness… or was it something about her?
She was more than half afraid that it was the latter.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 4th, 2004
Blackthorn stepped out the front door of the small upscale apartment block; blood dripped from his hands and squeaked under his boots as he walked. He held in his right hand a small nondescript black bag which he quickly hid within his oversized jacket. He proceeded to walk quickly and confidently into the apartments; disguising himself in the enveloping shadows he removed his blood spattered jacket and used it to wipe himself of his accumulated gore.
The job was easy, he did not even need to transform but it was messy. Luckily Blackthorn, despite having been in L.A. only a short time, knew he could evade almost any pursuers and so he was quite comfortable with his situation, though few others would be. After the gore was wiped from him he removed the black bag from the jacket and buried it at the bottom of a nearby garbage can.
Sirens now exploded into the range of his senses. And so Blackthorn quickly made his way from this place. Careful to remain relatively unseen he drifted down the streets, hugging the shadows and staying as far from others as possible. As soon as he was certain he was no longer in any danger he hailed a cab and instructed it to take him to Morgan’s apartment where he was, at least for the time being, staying.
Blackthorn stepped out of the cab, paid the driver and made his way to the apartment. He knew immediately Morgan was out so he did not even bother knocking, he just walked in. He placed the bag on a side table and went to clean himself up. Most of the blood was wiped off in the alley but some still remained, most of which was removed quickly in the sink. The rest was scrubbed off in the shower.
Once Blackthorn was clean he went and retrieved some new clothes, dressed himself and returned to the side table where he had placed the bag. He again picked it up, he almost wanted to look inside but he knew that would be far more trouble that it would be worth and so he walked back out on to the street. As he waited for a cab he thought about how disgusting cities are. Especially this city, all choked with smog and filth. It was disturbing. But he made due; he knew he wouldn’t be safe in the country right now so he had no choice.
After finally being picked up by a cab he called Mr. Gray, the only number in the phone's address book, and informed him he had the package. Blackthorn could tell Gray was pleased he has completed his task so quickly. For the rest of the cab ride Blackthorn thought of the previous night when he had saved the two children from the vampire.
He couldn’t tell what but something happened when the boy fell against him. Something was off with that boy. For one thing, he chose not to run from the vampire; this means he’s either insane, stupid, or knew what it was. Secondly, the strange ‘shock’ he felt when they made contact. Perhaps he was in some way 'supernatural'? Blackthorn didn't know but something was definitely different about that boy; he might have to investigate further.
The cab came to a lurching halt in front of Gray’s Bar. “$24.72,” the cabbie grumbled.
Blackthorn tossed the man thirty and stepped out of the cab. The cab sputtered quickly away and Blackthorn again entered the dimly lit common area of the bar. This time ignoring the bartender, Blackthorn went straight for Gray’s office. After two firm knocks, Blackthorn stepped into the large comfortable room.
“Do you have it?” Gray asked leaning back comfortably in his chair.
“Of course.” Blackthorn proceeded to place the black bag on the table.
“Well done. I’m surprised you were so quick, was there any resistance?” Gray then moved the bag from his desk to a safe hidden in the small bar at the back of the room.
“Minimal.”
Gray shuffled through the papers on his desk and finally sat. He then reached down and opened a large lower drawer on his desk, removing an envelope. He placed the envelope on the desk and looked up.
“That is for your trouble. My client will be quite pleased. Now, if you can keep up this standard of work I will certainly have quite a few more jobs for you in the next few weeks.”
Blackthorn nodded, picked up the envelope and left the room. As he passed through the dimly lit hallway he thought to himself. *Hopefully I won't need to do this much longer,* he paused for a second, *though it was kind of fun.*
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Reah’s apartment
Sunday the 4th, March, 2007
14:57
Reah lazed restlessly at the couch’s end, sitting upright with her feet crossing over on the floor, absently rubbing Damen’s calf in tiny circles with her left thumb while she leant against the chair’s arm, deep in thought. The two had ventured out into the lounge room some time ago to watch a DVD on her big screen, but Damen had since fallen into a deep sleep, sprawled out and taking up the entire couch, leaving Reah to her own silent musings. She smiled inwardly at the likelihood that it was probably due to their previous night’s activities that he was all worn out.
This somehow brought her to thinking about Quin.
She’d been awfully quiet when she’d returned home the other night. So quiet that Reah hadn’t heard her come in at all! But she knew she must have at some stage, because she was there in the morning, fixing up some breakfast when Reah’d wandered barefooted out of the bedroom to visit the bathroom.
Reah couldn’t remember whether she’d told Quin to go to Darian’s apartment, or what. Something in the back of her mind told her that her cousin had gone for a walk… but Reah thought it unlikely considering what had happened the last time she’d been caught out late. She figured Cameron hadn’t turned up at her door this time to abuse her; so that was something, at least.
Still…
Righting herself in the chair, Reah gently eased Damen’s legs off her so she could rise smoothly to her feet without waking him, then deftly made her way towards Quin’s room, careful not to have the floorboards creak beneath her shifting weight. A sudden ‘thud’ had her spinning back around, alerted eyes fervently scanning the room till they eventually landed on the form of Damen, on the ground, face planted into the floor.
Reah panicked when first realisation of what had happened hit home, then sniffed. At most, only a few moans disturbed the sleeping man’s steady breaths. Other than that, he was as dead to the world as stone cold corpse.
*Not even a raging apocalypse, right on top of his head, could raise that lazy assed heap,* Reah chuckled to herself as she affectionately studied his doubled over body in silence before turning back about her business.
‘knock-knock-knock’
“Quin? Can I come in?”
“Please yourself!”
Reah smiled, shaking her head as she turned the knob to enter. Quin had always been polite about her ways, never too intrusive, and always cautious of others’ feelings. In all her life, Reah had never known her to ever use the ‘f’ word, and very rarely ever even let the word ‘shit’ pass her lips. Even when she was struck in the forehead by a cricket ball hurled by her brother - Reah‘s cousin - Jason, so many, many summers ago, when their two families caught up annually for Christmas and played cricket on the beach.
She missed those days. And Quin used to have so much life in her back then… She used to be such a cheeky little rascal, too.
“Hey!” Reah stepped into the sun filled room, spotting Quin seated with her back against the wall just below the window, reading some old and tattered book. “What are you reading?”
“Les Mis.”
Reah frowned, holding out her hand. “Really? Should I know it?” Quin merely shrugged in reply and handed it over, the book opened to the page she was reading…
“Right,” Reah promptly shut the book, “Looks… interesting!”
“You lost my spot,” Quin remarked absently.
Reah glanced daftly at the book still in her hand before sheepishly handed it back to Quin. “Whoops.”
Quin didn’t bother to take much notice of Reah’s babbling as she just resumed her position and relocated her former point in the book without much trouble. “Did you want anything, Reah?”
“Um… yeah,” Reah shook herself out of a daze. “I was just wondering… Where’d you go last night?”
“For a walk.”
“For a walk?” she frowned down at her cousin.
“For a walk.”
“At night?”
“At night.”
“While it was dark?”
“While it wa-”
“STOP THAT!”
Quin merely glanced up at Reah, unflustered by her sudden outburst.
Reah heaved a heavy sigh, calming herself, and apologised. “Sorry, Quin. It’s just… after the other night and all… well… You should know better! It’s dangerous out there at night. You could’ve been attacked. Again!”
“I know,” Quin shrugged, then returned to her book, “We were.”
Reah blinked, thoughts rising to the surface, “Huh? You were what? What… what do you mean by ‘we’?”
Quin sighed. It was obvious the girl couldn’t care much for having this conversation right now. Not that Reah cared much for that.
“Cole and I,” she started, shifting in her seat at the mention of Cole’s name, “We went for a walk and were attacked by a vampire.”
*Another vampire? Shit! Those little buggers didn’t wait long to come back… I should do some more street work,* Reah thought to herself, her face a stern mask of concern, anger and confusion. But that wasn’t what came out. “Did Cole think it a good idea that you two go frolicking about in the streets, did he? And you just had to go along, despite what happened last time? Fucken hell, Quin!”
“It’s not his fault!” Quin snapped angrily, taking Reah by surprise, but she soon overcame it. Her anger just made it easier for Reah to yell back.
“Cut the crap, Quin! Don’t defend him. I know he’s younger than you, but not by much! He’s old enough to know certain bloody dangers! And so are you!”
“He tried to save me, Reah!” Quin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, intimidated by the harshness of Reah’s tone and glare. “He was upset and going for a walk anyway. Plus you were the one that locked me out!”
“I SAID TO GO TO DARIAN’S!”
Quin cuddled herself, knees huddled right up against her chest hiding her tear-stained face from Reah’s cold eyes, sniffing back the salty droplets that continued to course over her cheeks.
Reah groaned, slapping her hands to her face she clenched her eyes shut in frustration. Why Quin had to be so difficult she had no idea, but it really got to her. Especially the follow up guilt she felt from yelling at her. She hated having to play this role. Why had Quin run away from home in the first place? She shouldn’t have to be the one to deal with this! She wasn’t her bloody mum.
“Quin!” Reah moaned behind her palms, “Look… I’m sorry. Okay?”
After a moment of just standing there stiff with pent up aggravation - with some effort - Reah forced herself to take a deep breath, released the hold on her face, then slowly exhaled in one calming, heavy sigh. She needed to compose herself.
“He tried to save you… What…!” *Caaalm...* She let out another deep breath, “… What do you mean, exactly? If he didn’t save you… then who did? Cos no offence, Quin, but I somehow doubt you managed to save yourself.”
Quin continued to remain silent for a while longer, sniffing back tears and wishing Reah would just leave her alone. After it became apparent, however, that she wasn’t going to leave without the answers she wanted, Quin willed herself to toughen up, regain control over her feeble emotions so she could string her words together in a comprehendible manner that wasn’t broken by sobs or snivels.
Thinking back to the previous night, Quin raised her head from behind her knees so her red eyes were peering over the top, frowning distantly ahead at nothing. “There was a man… but…” She sniffed despite her attempts not to.
Reah willed herself to patience while she waited for her to continue, “It’s okay Quin, I wont bite… At least… not again.”
“… there was something off about him,” Quin continued in absent recollection, “I remember. Before I saw him, I… I knew something else was there, but he didn’t feel…” Quin froze, becoming aware of what she was suddenly about to say in front of Reah who was now frowning curiously down at her cousin. She wasn’t used to talking so openly in another’s company, but she knew Reah was aware of her empathy towards animals… just not the whole of it. “…Human.”
“He didn’t feel human?” Reah raised a questioning eyebrow at that.
“Well… not so much that as… he wasn’t quite… I don’t know! I couldn’t put my finger on it! He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t an animal, he was just devoid of much of anything, really!” Quin sighed in frustration. She was used to three simple, straight forward categories: Human, Animal, Demon. “But when he did come out… turned out he was human… at least, he looked it. He still had the strangest presence about him. And then when he changed…!”
“He changed?” Reah frowned, “What? You mean he was a vampire?”
Quin shook her head, “No! He was a werewolf.”
Reah near snorted at that, “Quin, werewolves can’t just ‘change’ willy nilly! Nor do they have much of a conscience when they do, if any!”
“Oh?” Quin shot Reah a challenging look over her bent up knees, “Well this one could and did!
“… And he saved us.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 5th
Alessa’s apartment
Early afternoon
“Hello Alessa.” Ellis’ words penetrated the haze in Alessa’s mind. She hadn’t heard him come into her bedroom and didn’t bother to raise her head from the bed or even look at him. Ellis had been to see her every day since they had come back, but he treated her with the kind of care you would a fragile crystal, and she was getting tired of it.
“Hi,” was her cold answer. She kept her eyes averted and just looked at a spot in the wall in front of her. She was more than grateful to the two of them, and Daye and James for rescuing her, but she was angered by their refusal to talk openly to her. To hide Chance’s demise was only one of the things they were doing ‘for her sake’. She was putting up with it only because she had no other option, she still was too weak to be on her own, but the moment she felt more like herself she would put them all in their place.
“How are you feeling?” He didn’t sound chastised by her coldness, and his overly cheerful tone made her seethe. Making an effort to control her anger she shrugged. Then she raised her head and looked at him.
“The cough is getting better.”
Ellis smiled. He didn’t let himself be put down by her attitude; after all, she hadn’t had an easy time lately. “I’m glad,” he nodded. “I was talking to some friends, and they recommended me this demon doct-”
“Don’t bother,” she interrupted, “I’m better.”
She felt a pang of guilt for treating him like this, but she couldn’t help herself. From the bits and pieces she had learnt, the man had been frantic after she had been kidnapped and had moved all his influences to find her. Of course, it had been Inés’ telepathic connection in the end that had done the job, but it was because of him that they knew the Council was behind her kidnapping. And he had been the one providing the resources to have her rescued just in time, according to Daye. She knew that he had been fundamental in her rescue, but she just couldn’t make herself be nicer to him.
“Ok…” she finally heard his dismay. Then he paused and tried again. “Inés says you haven’t left this room in days… would you like to join us in the living room?”
“No.” Her answer was absolute, and Ellis sighed before getting up.
“Well. We can always talk here.” He wasn’t going to desist so easily. Ellis took a chair and moved it closer to the bed, looking at the woman in it. Alessa looked terrible, she was pale and thin and her hair was a greasy mess. Inés had told him she hadn’t left her bed in the last four days and that she refused to eat. The demoness was worried sick about Alessa and he could understand why. She needed to be shaken out of this. “What do you want Alessa?”
*What do I want? I want Chance, I want my life back.* The words almost came to her mouth, and she felt her eyes fill with tears again. She closed her eyes tightly and didn’t answer him or she would start cursing.
“What do you mean?” she asked finally, surprising herself at the calmness of her voice.
“What do you want to do with your life?” He swallowed and held her surprised gaze. “I know what I’m talking about, Alessa. You can't go on like this; if you don’t change your attitude there will be a moment when you won't be able to function anymore. And when that happens, you aren’t too far from death. Believe me, I went through this.”
“You don’t know anything about me!” she spat, an ugly gesture in her mouth. “I’ve been through this before too, you know? I don’t need advice.”
He smiled, “I know. I also know that when Morris ‘died’ you didn’t sink into a bed, flooded in self pity.”
“It was different.” She was angry now. Who was he to judge her? Her voice got an hysterical edge as she went on. “I wasn’t sick, and I wasn’t amnesiac! And… and I fought the bastards! I had bastards to fight! Now I don’t have nothing, not a-”
“Alessa! ‘Self-pity’, remember? You have no excuse for not trying to get better! I don’t think Chance would have liked to see you like this.”
“He wouldn’t mind! He wouldn’t have gone through that portal into death if he had! He wouldn’t have gotten himself killed.” Her eyes flashed red, and she caught herself before saying more.
Ellis didn’t seem shocked though. “Chance didn’t have an option Alessa. But you do.” He waited till she calmed herself before speaking. “What do you want to do, Alessa?” he asked again.
She looked into his piercing blue eyes, and felt her anger subside. He had a calming effect on her, the same effect his father had had. She closed her eyes and thought about his question. It wasn’t as if she herself hadn’t asked that question.
She had been thinking a lot about her future of late. One thing she knew for sure was that she would move, she didn’t want to go on living on this apartment where she could see Chance everywhere. She had even considered taking her grandfather’s offer and returning to Paraguay. Inés hadn’t said anything about it, but she just knew the demoness was going to press her about it too. But her mind was set in that. She didn’t want to go back to Paraguay. She had sort of come to terms with her mixed blood, and one thing she knew was that she didn’t want to hide, neither in the city nor in the jungle.
So, she would move. She didn’t know where yet, maybe she would even move to Ernie’s house. It was hers now, after all. Then she would find a job. She wasn’t going to spend one more day mano sobre mano, with nothing to do. Any job would do, she didn’t think she could be a teacher anymore, maybe something where her other expertises could be put at work. She could teach self-defence classes… or work in a library, or… hell, even become a salesclerk would do!!
“I want to move out, and I want a job,” she answered and felt, more than see, his smile.
“I can help you with both-” he started but was stopped by her denial.
“No. You’ve done enough. I’m doing this myself.”
“Ok,” he nodded. “Why don’t you ask your friends then?”
“NO!”
This time, her denial really surprised him, and the look in her eyes surprised him even more; but she didn’t say another word and he finally gave up in his attempts to talk to her. *Well, it didn’t go so bad, after all,* he told himself. At least she had decided to move and secure a job. His mind was already thinking about possible solutions for that, it wouldn’t be too difficult to get her a job without her knowing it was his doing. He looked at her again, Alessa was lost in thought and didn’t notice his scrutiny. She was beautiful, even in her disarray.
“I’m going to take a shower.” Her sudden statement startled him, and a bright smile broke in his face. Alessa was already swinging her legs over the side of the bed, mindless of his being there. He held her when she staggered trying to get up, and helped her sit on the bed again.
“Easy, dear. You are still too weak. I’ll call Inés,” he said, and left the room.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 4 March 2007 – 4:00pm
Daye climbed out of the van, taking hold of the tray of sweets Josh had insisted she bring along. In the back there were half a dozen other dishes she herself had spent the day preparing. Being a good Irish girl, she believed it was her duty to provide for Kate and her family in this time of need, both physically and emotionally, so she had made dishes Kate could keep and heat up later. At a time like this, the last thing her friend needed was to worry over the little things. Daye just wanted to help her get through the big ones.
Balancing the tray of food in one hand, Daye approached the steps of Kate's house, passing between the huge columns. She'd been there many times before, but never had she so dreaded knocking on the door. There was an aura of sadness about the place so palpable that even she could feel it. Finally, steeling herself, Daye raised one hand and knocked.
Jack had been sitting, reading the newspaper when he heard the knock at the door. Kate was curled up on the sofa across the room, exhausted after her visit from Nikolai who had left shortly after he had arrived home just over an hour ago. She stirred momentarily at the sharp, loud knock, but settled again with a murmur. Jack folded up his newspaper with a restrained sigh as he rose from his chair and walked into the hall to open the door.
This was tough, harder than he’d ever thought it would be, taking care of his daughter and struggling to cope with Galen’s erratic behaviour. He knew it wasn’t his job to try and sort them both out but he just couldn’t stand seeing his daughter so distraught, feeling so alone… that son-in-law of his had a lot to answer for. He caught a glimpse at his watch as he reached to open the door, it was getting late, if Galen didn’t come home soon…
He held his breath, opening the door and smiling at the towering red head on the other side, struggling to balance several items in her hands. “Hello, oh, let me help you with that,” he said as he took on some of the woman’s burden and led her inside. “It’s Amanda isn’t it? Kate’s friend from England, don’t stand out there in the cold, come in, come in…”
Daye nodded, trying to muster a smile for Kate's father. She'd met him a few times, when she and Drew had come over to visit with Kate and Galen, or when she'd brought Maia over to see Emma, mostly an excuse to sit around with Kate sipping tea and talking. So she knew Jack Archer a little, but she still wasn't completely comfortable with the man.
"Sure, that would be great," Daye replied, handing one of the covered dishes to Jack. She would have to go back out to the van later to get the rest, but for now she didn't think it was a priority. "I... I wanted to see Kate," Daye said, as they entered the house. "I just heard late last night, and I wanted to make sure she was... I don't know. I just needed to come over."
“I understand,” said Jack as he led the woman directly into the kitchen, avoiding the living room where Kate was still sleeping. She hadn’t slept very much in the past few days, at least not without being heavily medicated and he didn’t want to risk waking her up. He placed the tray on the table while Daye set down a couple of covered dishes and he sighed, looking at the load. *Well, at least we’re not gonna starve,* he thought with a slight chuckle.
“You’re the second today actually, Nikolai left about an hour ago and then there was Tash the other day. I think it's been some comfort to Kate, knowing that her friends are there for her when she needs them.”
Daye smiled wanly at the man. "I hope it is," she said. "I just can't imagine what she's been going through. Or Galen for that matter. If anything were ever to happen to Maia, I don't know how Drew and I would cope. And I'm sure Sam would be... lost."
Daye studied Jack for a moment. He looked tired and frustrated. At the mention of Galen's name, something had flashed in the man's eyes. Daye noticed how deathly still the house was. She wondered where Kate and Galen were. "Are they here?" she finally asked Jack. Are Galen and Kate in, or... I don't want to disturb them, I just..."
Jack could barely disguise his disgust for his son-in-law. Galen’s behaviour had been reprehensible, really it had. Jack knew he was hurting and grieving but that didn’t give him the right to act the way he had been, lying, forcing him to lie on his behalf… Jack gave his head a quick shake to clear his thoughts; retaining an impassive façade was one of his talents after all and he wasn’t about to declare his reservations openly to Amanda.
“Galen’s at work,” he lied, “but he should be home shortly and Kate-”
“-is here.”
Jack looked up as Kate’s voice shattered the air of silence that had hung in the room. She stood in the doorway, looking tired and worn as seemed to be usual for her of late. “Kate, sweetheart, I thought you were still asleep.”
Kate smiled weakly as she entered the kitchen, “I thought I heard your voice Daye,” she said as she approached the table and looked over what her friend had brought. “Wow, you’ve been cooking up a storm… you’re going to make me look bad after- oh, is that noodle casserole?”
Daye didn't respond at first. She just studied her best friend critically. Kate looked, well devastated wouldn't be too exaggerated a description. She was wan and thinner than Daye had ever seen her. Her usually lovely hair hung down her back in limp strands, and her eyes were puffy and red, obviously from tears. She had dark circles under them as well, and her skin had an unhealthy pallor.
*You should have come sooner,* Daye thought to herself. *You should have come right away. She's not doing well at all. And Galen isn't here? What the hell is that about?* Daye grimaced in annoyance at the direction her thoughts were taking, but she quickly schooled her features to neutrality.
"Yes, I know how much you like it," Daye said softly, moving over to stand beside Kate. The other woman was obviously trying to put up a good front, and obviously falling apart inside. *Have you talked to anyone, or are you trying to be strong?* Daye mused, hesitating to grab ahold of Kate, although she desperately wanted to.
"There's more in the car," Daye said, glancing back at Jack, who hovered nearby, concerned and somehow stymied by his daughter's behaviour. "I made a lasagne, and that Indian casserole you liked... the one with the curry, and... some other things," Daye continued, frowning. Kate hadn't really looked at her yet. "And, uhm, Josh sent some things too. We both thought it might help if you didn't have to worry about those things for a while. You can freeze the stuff, and..."
*Stop babbling to fill the silence,* Daye scolded herself. *You feel guilty because Emma is gone and Maia isn't, but you have to get past that. How can you be here for Kate if you don't?*
"Kate, I... I'm so sorry," Daye said finally, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, wishing she would turn around so Daye could draw her into the embrace they both needed now.
Kate felt Daye’s hand on her shoulder but she didn’t turn around, she could feel her empathy, her sorrow, her concern… her guilt. Kate could understand that though she didn’t blame Daye for anything, why should she? Simply because her baby had died while Maia… no she couldn’t feel like that, it wasn’t right and it wouldn’t do any good because Emma… Emma was gone, and she was just going to have to accept that.
“Thank you,” said Kate, still looking down at everything Daye had brought, and there was ‘more’ in the car. “But you really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, this is, it’s all quite overwhelming…” She frowned slightly and held her head for a moment, “Can I get you something? Tea perhaps?”
*Oh Goddess, she's going to try and shut me out too,* Daye thought, letting her hand drop from Kate's shoulder. *Well, we'll see about that.* "No, Kate, I don't need any tea," Daye replied. "I don't need anything, except for you to let me help. Please, Kate, I know this is hard, but don't try and shut yourself off."
Kate closed her eyes at Daye’s words. She’d been caught out by Nikolai earlier; that experience had left her feeling much worse than before and she wasn’t ready to unburden herself twice in one day. “I’m fine, really,” she insisted, “there’s no need for all this-” Kate suddenly stopped, feeling her emotions bubbling to the surface. She held a hand over her mouth, and leaned against the table with the other. She took several deep breaths, calming herself and keeping her tears at bay for a little longer.
“I have help Daye…” she forced out firmly. “I can’t breathe for people trying to help me!” She continued before Daye had a chance to respond, “And I know it’s just because you care, because you want to do something but I don’t need it! What I need is-” she stopped again, glancing up at Jack, a brief glimmer of understanding passing between them. *What I need is Galen… where the hell is he?*
Daye noted the look that passed between father and daughter. She'd been wondering the same thing herself. "Yes, where is he?" she asked Jack. "I don't understand. Why isn't Galen here? Why is he at work at all? His daughter has just died. Shouldn't he be here with his wife? What the hell is going on?"
Galen cleared his throat as he entered the kitchen, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow him right there. Why had he decided to come home? He should have just stayed where he was, damn Jack. “I’m perfectly aware of the situation Daye,” he said tightly, walking to the refrigerator and removing a bottle of beer. He knocked the cap off and took a long drink. “Nice of you to drop by though.”
Daye spun around at the sound of Galen's voice, too angry at Kate's obvious distress and his apparent lack of concern to even be embarrassed. She watched him for a few moments, as he sipped from the beer, his body tightly wound. He didn't look like a man who'd just suffered through the loss of a child. To Daye, he looked… pissed.
"Hello, Galen," Daye said coolly. "So nice of you to 'drop by'. I just wanted to offer my condolences," she continued. "I'm very sorry for you... and Kate. I can't imagine how hard this has been for both of you." *But I don't think you're handling this all that well, Mr. Eldridge,* Daye hazarded a guess to herself. He too looked awful, but somehow his barely contained anger was worse than his wife's crushing grief.
Galen felt annoyed at Daye’s tone of voice; she was never one to hold back how she felt, always ready to give a lecture if she thought one was needed and she obviously felt that way now. The trouble was Galen wasn’t in the mood to receive another dressing down, not after what Jack had said earlier. “Yeah, it’s been… tough.”
Kate was too stunned to say anything at first, just seeing Galen was enough to leave her speechless. Since Emma had died he’d begun a routine of leaving before she had awoken on a morning and not returning until late. Even then he was tired, needed to sort through his paper work, locked up in his study all night until she had gone to sleep. Sometimes he never ever came to bed, instead he slept on the sofa or in his study. Feeling the bitterness in his words she hung her head dismally and slipped down into a chair.
Daye didn't respond at first. She just stood there, her gaze going from Galen to Kate and then back again. The man's words were so... caustic, and Daye could easily see the effect they had on her friend. She finally shook her head at Galen, moving over to stand by Kate's chair. *No, not handling this well at all,* Daye thought, putting a reassuring hand on Kate's shoulder.
"I don't think anyone expected it to be easy," Daye said, trying hard to keep her growing anger in check. This was not what Kate needed, and it wasn't going to make Galen feel any better either. "I can't pretend to understand how you are feeling, but I am very, very sorry for your loss."
Kate looked up, noticing the ire in Daye’s face as she spoke to Galen. She sighed, holding her head in her hand and couldn’t help wondering if it wouldn’t have been better if Galen had stayed at work, at least then Daye wouldn’t have to witness this… pretence.
“Daye brought us some food,” she said finally, looking up into the weary eyes of her husband, “and Joshua baked some things for us too, wasn’t that nice of them?”
Galen took another swig from his beer bottle, casting an eye over the table and its contents. “Hmmm, yeah, thanks Daye,” mumbled Galen, his voice sounding a little more contrite than before, “that was very kind of you… and Joshua. I haven’t really felt like cooking much lately and, well you know Kate, she couldn’t boil an egg without it turning into a national disaster.”
The corner of Kate’s mouth turned upwards slightly, laughing weakly at Galen’s comment. It was a running joke of course and she knew it, but for some reason his words sounded slightly critical and his tone a little harsher than usual though Kate was reluctant to acknowledge it.
“Yep… you know me…” Kate sighed, trying to inject enough lightness into her voice so as to make her appear amused.
Daye was slightly mollified by Galen's comment. Maybe he just didn't know the right way to deal with this situation. Hell, what was the right way, for that matter? Daye couldn't claim to be an expert. Mostly she just went on instinct in cases like this and even though her instincts were screaming that something was terribly wrong here, she didn't feel that it would be right to push it at this time. So, she backed down.
"Well... that's okay," Daye said. "You don't need to worry about that for a while now. In a bit I'll head out to the van for the rest of the stuff, but first..." Daye took the seat opposite Kate, and grabbed hold of both of her friend's hands. "I just want you to know that if there's anything you need..." Daye turned and looked straight at Galen as she continued, "either of you... don't think you can't come to me. I don't know what I can do, but I want to help you... both of you."
“Thank you, really,” said Kate, feeling a bit guilty at her earlier outburst. Daye was such a good friend, she always had been; ever ready with a comforting word or her own wise counsel. Kate felt Daye squeeze her hands gently, “I really appreciate it, we both do.”
Galen put his beer bottle down on the counter. The noise was loud and hard, drawing the attention of both women. He shrugged at their curious glances, “Yeah, we appreciate everything that you’re doing for us Daye, it’s really more than you need to. By the way, I do hope you can make the service on Wednesday, Kate’s been working very hard to arrange everything.”
Daye nodded slowly. She really felt that there was something going on here besides a man simply dealing with his grief, but she didn't know what that could be and there was no way she could risk trying to discuss it with Galen now... not with Kate and her father in the room.
"Of course I'll be there," Daye said. "We'll all be there. Sam and Drew want you to know they feel the same way I do, and the offer of help extends to them as well."
Giving Kate's hands a final squeeze, Daye stood and walked over to the counter to stand beside Galen. Ignoring the anger that enshrouded him, she boldly reached out and place a gentle hand on his shoulders. "I meant what I said, Galen," she told him softly. "I'm not just Kate's friend, and I'm not just here for her. If there's something you need..."
Galen could barely suppress a shudder as Daye’s hand rested on his shoulder. Her simpering words of concern sounded hollow in his ears, it was all he could do not to shove her away. He didn’t care what she said, she was Kate’s friend predominantly, nothing would change that. He could almost hear her thoughts, her disapproval of him. Women were always the same, it didn’t matter what they said, they stuck together.
“Thanks…” said Galen, the single word dripping with insincerity, “but I’m doing okay. Besides, I don’t really agree that it’s necessary to have to talk every little thing through, and someone has to be the strong one, don’t they?”
Kate inhaled sharply as though she was about to say something but then the words lodged in her throat, unable to escape. Instead her mouth opened momentarily and then shut again abruptly with just a single indecipherable syllable being uttered in between.
Jack watched his daughter and the frustration that was evident in her posture. As Amanda stood next to his son-in-law, he moved over to where Kate sat and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Daye stood stock still, aghast once again at Galen's words, and more importantly, his tone. She carefully drew her hand away from him. *He's hurting, he's lost, be patient,* she warned herself. "Well, that may be the opinion of some, yes, I suppose... I'm not sure..." Daye watched Galen, but she couldn't quite figure out what it was he needed. She looked over at Jack and Kate, and her heart broke a bit more when she saw Kate's father occupying the place that should have been her husband's.
Galen's way was so very wrong. These people needed to talk. They needed to open up to one another and share their grief. Otherwise, they would never be able to heal. *You can't make him open up, though,* Daye thought to herself. *And you really can't try and push him here. She couldn't stand it. It would be better if you waited, tried later when you can be alone with him. Someone has to, Goddess knows.* Daye sighed. "I... I think I'll go get those things from the van," she finally said.
Kate Gets Drunk
Tuesday, 6 March 2007 – 8:10pm
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Kate hummed quietly to herself as she rubbed the yellow duster in tight circles across the mahogany surface of the coffee table. She’d been cleaning most of the day, trying to get the house into a semblance of order for the reception that would be held there after Emma’s funeral tomorrow.
Her daughter may be dead and her marriage might be on unsteady ground at the moment but she’d be damned if anyone would say that she had let things slide in keeping her home in order. Besides, cleaning helped keep her mind off things like the fact that she had barely spoken to her husband for the past week, that he would rather go into work than spend a minute of his day alone with her, that they never slept together, that maybe… Kate polished the smooth wooden surface furiously, her hair coming loose from the mass of ringlets tied to the back of her head.
Things like… she was burying her daughter tomorrow… Kate looked down into the gleaming surface, seeing her reflection in the dark wood. She hastily tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears as the telephone began to ring.
She rose to her feet quickly, making her way into the hallway to answer the call. It was probably Jack, calling to say he would be another hour or something. He’d had to attend another of his ‘meetings’ and though loath to leave his daughter on her own yet again he had done so, with a little reassurance from Kate that she would be all right.
As she stood over the console, her right hand hovering just a few inches above the handset she happened to look up, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall and stood silently, shocked at her appearance. Her face was pale, cadaverous, devoid of colour except for the underneath of her eyes which were rimmed with a sore looking redness and beneath that smudgy dark circles. Kate stared at herself, lost in thought as she looked into her own wide blue eyes. What she saw in there… inside herself, it was frightening, a harrowed sort of loneliness and a darkness beckoning.
Kate shook herself free from those black thoughts, but continued to look at herself. After a moment she reached up and pinched at her cheeks a little to force some colour into her pallid complexion. She couldn’t blame Galen for avoiding her and why would he want to kiss or hold her when she looked so dreadful? She smoothed out the contours of her paisley dress and frowned, running her hands over her hips again and turning to catch a glimpse of her profile. The frown on Kate’s forehead grew harder as she tugged at the lines of the dress, noticing how where it had once fitted snugly against her curves it now hung quite loose and baggy.
The telephone continued to ring but Kate paid it no heed anymore as she continued to scrutinise her altered appearance. *How could anyone love you?* she thought dismally, pulling a few hair pins from the mass of trapped curls and letting the lacklustre red locks spill down over her shoulders. She fingered a strand of hair, twirling it around her finger thoughtfully, wiping away further tears that rolled down her cheeks with the back of her hand.
*Ugly, you’re ugly and stupid!* she thought bitterly, hating, loathing the image that faced her. *Stupid, pathetic, who do you think you are? Some witch! You couldn’t even save your own daughter! Stupid! STUPID!!*
Kate turned away, feeling a sob rise up in her chest, forcing her to utter a woeful moan. Slowly she turned back to look in the mirror.
*Your own husband despises you… you know it’s true, you can see it in his eyes when he looks at you… and who can blame him? Look at you… you hideous woman! Isn’t it obvious? You’re not the woman he fell in love with… where is she? Bright, laughing, beautiful, intelligent Kate. She’s gone… you’re all that’s left! Stupid and ugly!*
Kate felt tears run freely down her cheeks but this time she didn’t move to wipe them away. Instead she let them run, roll off her cheeks or drip off the end of her nose. What did it matter? She was alone, no one would see, see the mess that she had become. *You don’t deserve to be happy! You’re not worth anything! The best thing you had was Emma and now she’s gone… gone… tomorrow you see her put in a tiny box and buried in the cold dark earth. Then that’s it. Over. Gone. Forever.*
Kate couldn’t control herself any longer, her tears flowed free and fast as she sobbed inconsolably. The depth of her grief was frightening, endless… a dark bottomless void that would just stretch on and on forever. Kate leaned against the console, her knuckles turning white from gripping the surface so tightly. She slowly turned her face up again to look at her reflection. Her cheeks glowed warmly as did the end of her nose, her face stained and blotchy, wet from her tears. Her dark eyelashes clumped together giving her a colleen appearance while her bottom lip trembled uncontrollably. She stared down at the phone, its dull drilling ring vibrating inside her head.
“SHUT UP!” Kate screamed suddenly in rage, sweeping the telephone across the console and on to the floor, silencing its incessant ringing. She felt her blood pounding in her ears as the adrenaline pumped through her system at the angry outburst.
“Oh god,” she whispered in shock, suddenly realising what she’d done. She knelt down to pick up the phone which lay in several pieces on the floor. She turned them over in her hands, trying to fit them back together but it was useless. Kate sat on the cold floor, her hair falling in her face as she continued in the futile task, mumbling incomprehensibly to herself.
“No, no, no, not that, not there, hmmm, that should, oh, hmm, no, no, not right, not right, won’t fit, why won’t it fit? Oh, hmm, oh dear, oh no, broken, it’s broken…”
She carefully picked up the pieces, gathering them into the length of her dress and yanking the cord from the wall as she carried the broken bits of plastic into the kitchen and dropped them onto the kitchen table. “Got to fix it, got to fix it…” she muttered to herself distractedly, still trying to push the broken parts back into place. *It has to go back, it has to, they’ll know, Galen, Jack, everyone, they’ll know what I did, they’ll know I broke it… got to fix it…*
She turned in a flurry, moving over to the cupboards and began opening them all, looking for some glue to mend the broken telephone. Suddenly she paused, her eyes fixing on a bottle of scotch that stood inside the last cupboard. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached up and took it from the shelf, just holding it and turning the cold, cylindrical bottle between her hands contemplatively. Eventually she reached for a glass and unscrewed the top to the bottle.
Quickly she poured a heavy measure into the glass, the amber-like liquid gleaming in the light of the kitchen. She paused one more time, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to hold back the sorrow inside. In one swift motion she raised the glass to her lips and swallowed the contents completely.
“Euuugh!” she shuddered involuntarily as the alcohol hit her stomach, the strong, malty flavour assailing her taste buds and almost causing her to retch. *Oh my god how does Galen drink this stuff?* she thought to herself. The taste was really bad, worse than anything she’d ever tasted before. She quickly poured herself another glassful and held her breath while she drank that down too.
Kate’s face screwed up in distaste; the drink hadn’t improved a second time but she wasn’t going to stop, not until the pain had gone. She slid down the side of the kitchen unit to sit on the floor. The cold tiles felt good against her bare legs and she just sat for a while, staring at a large moth that landed on the windowpane outside, flapping its wings a little before flying off again.
She sighed, discarding the glass altogether and drinking straight from the bottle this time. The alcohol was strong and was already making her head feel a bit woolly. Oh but it was good, not to feel that deep aching pain all the time, to feel it lessen some as the first waves of drunkenness swept over her. Kate raised the bottle to her lips again and drank deeply. She couldn’t taste the nasty bitterness anymore, it just felt warm and kind of sickly in the pit of her stomach.
A hiccup made Kate jump momentarily and she laughed at the silliness of it, taking another drink from the bottle while propping her head up against the back of the kitchen unit. The silence of the house seemed to fall in about her but Kate didn’t care anymore, instead she gazed drowsily out of the window before raising the bottle to her lips yet again…
Luc Visits Kate
Tuesday, 6 March 2007 – 8:44pm
Kate continued to sit on the kitchen floor as she turned the half empty bottle over and over in her hands. She was pretty drunk already, her vision was blurred and she was finding it difficult to keep focused on any single object for more than a few seconds. Her head lolled to one side as she unscrewed the top to the bottle and raised it to her lips again.
She screwed up her face at the taste, just as she had done the first time. Being drunk didn’t make it taste any better at all. Maybe that was why Galen said it used to work for him, she thought. It tasted just like the pain, let you give it substance, and ultimately gave you the power over it. She raised the bottle to her lips to drink again, coughing.
Suddenly Kate felt a wave of nausea wash over her, she staggered to her feet, using the kitchen units to help pull her up as she rushed over to the sink and was violently sick. She ran the tap, rinsing her mouth out and splashing the cold water against her face as she waited for the nausea to subside. As she leaned with her back against the sink she felt herself beginning to sob again.
*Why?* she thought painfully. *Why did it have to be her, why now?* After everything she had been through, everything she suffered. Trying her best to live a good life, and then when the gods finally blessed her with the one thing she'd ever wanted, a family, they took it away like a cruel trick...
That was what it was. A cruel trick. It was bad enough that they never seemed to listen when you needed them most but then, when they actually gave you what you’d only ever dreamed of only to rip it away at the final moment, without even so much as a warning! Hell, it was probably just for their own personal amusement anyway! Such were they, petty and cruel, taking delight in the sufferings of the human race.
Kate couldn’t take anymore and why should she! Why should they contentedly ruin everything she had fought for all her life in the blink of an eye? With that thought in mind she grabbed the bottle of scotch from the kitchen counter and strode purposefully out into the garden, her arms outspread as she turned her head up to the heavens.
“Is this what you wanted?” she shouted to the skies, wobbling unsteadily as she looked up at the dark rolling clouds overhead. “I am a mere servant, your humble follower! What did I ever do to make you punish me like this? I WANT TO KNOW!!”
She turned away, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking another swig, “Why do I even bother asking, you NEVER REPLY!!”
Suddenly a rumble of thunder sounded overhead, deep and threatening. Kate yelped in surprise and lost her footing, falling to the ground and landing on her rear with a bump. She nursed the almost empty bottle in her hands sadly. “We were so happy… How could you take that away?”
Kate sighed and lay back on the grass, staring up at the stars in the sky. “You should have taken me…” she said weakly, her voice breathless and tired, “You should have taken me…” Slowly she closed her eyes and let the darkness take over.
…
…
…
“What are you doing, Kate?”
Kate sat up with a start as the voice penetrated the silent night, her eyes wide, searching the darkness for the source. It’s tone was soft… masculine and so very familiar she didn’t even notice she was holding her breath. “No…” she whispered, “it couldn’t be…”
She craned her neck as she struggled to see in the dark. It was surely her mind playing a cruel trick on her, it had to be, a drunken delusion. Still, she couldn’t help but think… maybe… Quietly she called out into the night, “Luc?”
Slowly the figure of a tall, handsome man stepped forward, illuminated in the moonlight, his long dark hair gleaming in stark contrast to his pallid complexion and the severity of his unearthly features. Kate gasped at seeing him, surrounded with a heavenly aura of peace and tranquillity. He walked across the grass and stood silently not more than a few feet from where she sat on the grass.
Kate stumbled to climb to her feet, in awe of what she was seeing. After everything that had happened, after all the times she had begged the gods to bring him back to her and… and here he was… Warily she reached out with her hand, almost not daring to touch him in case he wasn’t real and just a figment of her imagination.
“It’s okay Kate,” Luc said finally, taking her hand and holding it against his chest, “I’m not a ghost, my spirit was laid to rest remember? You made sure of it.”
“This… this can’t be…” Kate stammered uncertainly as she continued to hold her hand against the ‘body’ of her former lover. He felt so real, solid… even warm. Her hand gently rubbed against the soft fabric of his shirt; even that was real, the cotton material crisp against her fingers. She shook her head slowly, “It can’t. I’m drunk. This is, this has to be a dream…”
“Knowing all that you do, how can you doubt it?” Luc asked gently, smiling at her tentative touch. Even in death he loved her dearly. He gently took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, kissing her warm flesh softly before reaching out to touch her cheek, trailing his fingers through her hair. He sighed with deep contentment. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to do this…”
Kate couldn’t draw her eyes away from him though her face was full of confusion. This was just… amazing, she’d never expected to see him again, not in this lifetime. Getting over Luc’s death was one of the hardest things she’d ever had to do and yet… here he was… beautiful, angelic, darling Luc… He looked just as she remembered him, his eyes kind and gentle. He had been so good to her, she remembered, so gentle and careful, always putting her needs above those of his own. She sighed desperately and hung her head, unable to look at him anymore.
Luc frowned uncomfortably, sensing her inner turmoil. With his outstretched hand he gently stroked her cheek again. “Don’t think like that Kate, that isn’t why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?” Kate looked up sharply, tears gathering in her eyes. “Why now? Do you know how much I needed you when you first di-”
“You can say the word Kate, I’m dead, there’s no need to spare a thought for my feelings…”
“I prayed every night to see you again, just one last time. You never came.”
Luc smiled sadly and looked away, “Would that have helped you move on? If I had never let you forget me? Of course I wanted to see you, but you needed to be able to cope on your own.”
“You saved my life Luc,” she said softly, “I will never ‘forget’ you, just like a part of me will always love you.”
Luc closed his eyes painfully as he heard those words and Kate sensed with regret the hurt that she had caused him.
“So why now?” she asked quickly, wishing to change the subject.
Luc returned Kate’s gaze, seeing the tears there. He wanted to comfort her so badly but that wasn’t his job anymore. “The Powers That Be thought it was for the best… They know what you’re going through, Kate, and they want to help you.” He smiled gently, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “I always knew you were destined for great things, but even I couldn’t know-” he stopped abruptly, closing his eyes again.
“You know about the future?” Despite her earlier reluctance Kate couldn’t restrain herself from reaching out and touching him. She held him by the shoulders, forcing him to acknowledge her. “Do you know what happens to me?”
Luc opened his eyes and shook his head slowly, “No, I don’t Kate, I’ve seen things, possibilities. The Powers That Be wanted me to see, they thought it would help me tonight.”
“Tonight?” Kate took a moment to digest the implications of that single word, “You aren’t coming back after tonight, are you? This is it? This is all I get?”
The urge to take her in his arms and kiss her was so strong Luc could barely control it. He closed his eyes again momentarily before glancing up towards the heavens. It wasn’t fair he thought, returning his gaze to Kate, he hadn’t asked to come here but he hadn’t refused either. But never had he imagined seeing Kate again would be so painful. In the ethers it was different, his spirit could calmly observe and be content. But here… he was a man again, he could touch, he could feel… he’d never expected that. He could love. And even though he’d been dead for almost two years now he still loved Kate as much as he had the last time his mortal eyes had looked upon her that fateful night.
“This is all you get,” he echoed, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I’m here because the decisions that you make in these next few days will mark a path for you that will decide your entire future.”
“Way to pile on the pressure,” Kate laughed flippantly, “My daughter just died Luc, I… I have to bury her tomorrow and-”
“-and your husband is distant and removed, making you cope with all of this on your own.” At Kate’s surprised look he smiled awkwardly, “I told you that I’d be watching over you.”
Kate’s face went through a series of emotions as she took in the implications of that statement. First she felt happy, then nervous followed by embarrassed. Luc couldn’t help but laugh a little at the incongruity of it all, reaching out again to brush away a stray lock of hair from her face.
“I’m glad you were able to move on Kate, it’s what I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, for you to be happy.” He smiled again at Kate’s slightly embarrassed expression. “Do you remember what I said to you? The very last thing?”
Kate nodded, “You said you would love me forever.”
Luc continued to smile, “And that Love makes you strong. I meant that. You have so much love to give, it was never meant to end with me. You would die if you couldn’t love, it’s such a strong part of you… you are so led by your heart. My darli-” Luc cut himself short again, taking a deep breath before carrying on. “You wear your heart for all to see, like now, I can see what terrible pain you’re in.” *I wish I could take it away from you.* “But you are so strong Kate, so alive! Don’t waste it.”
Kate couldn’t help but let a sob escape as she fought to keep her confused and raging emotions under control. Her shoulders shook momentarily and two tears rolled forlornly down her cheeks. “But I can’t go on like this… I can’t live without her, Luc… it hurts too much.”
Luc shook his head firmly. “You thought you couldn’t live without me and you did. You lived and you loved and you became stronger because of it. You made me proud Kate, you did everything that I asked of you, do you remember? You used your gift, you protected the innocent, protected the weak from the forces of evil. I told you that this wasn’t the end for you, and it wasn’t and it’s not the end for you now. I know you love your daughter, but you will have children Kate, you will… lots of them. You can be happy again.”
Kate shook her head in disbelief, “I wish I could believe that…”
“Then believe it,” urged Luc desperately, taking her hands in his.
Kate closed her eyes and turned her head to one side. “Do you really have to leave tonight?” The question hung in the air until Kate finally opened her eyes to look at Luc again. “Don’t leave… take me Luc… take me with you…”
Luc looked awkwardly down at her hands, running his fingers over the plain platinum wedding ring. “You’re married Kate, you have a life. Here.”
Kate shook her head dismally, “But we were destined to be together! I felt it, I know it was true… and I still love you Luc. I do, I do, please don’t leave me again…”
Luc looked down into her eyes, searching those dark blue depths carefully. “You love him,” he stated blankly, “No matter what he’s done, you love him. I can see it.” He looked away painfully, “Believe me it gives me no pleasure to admit that, and I will always love you Kate. Even in death. But I never expected you to live the rest of your life alone. Galen Eldridge is a good man despite his recent behaviour, and he has made you very happy, given you things I couldn’t. Given you children…”
Kate frowned at his words and looked away again, her hands trembling. “It’s all falling apart…”
“He loves you too, I can see it in him as brightly as I see it in you. Talk to him, make him see how much you care, you can make this work together, I know it.”
“But us-”
“Can never be Kate!” said Luc firmly, “I’m dead, I can’t come back and live here, I don’t belong here, and you don’t belong where I am. You are a long way from that place.” He took Kate’s trembling hands in his firmly, “You fight Kate, you fight to get through this any way you can and you will make it, I promise!” He took a deep breath and sighed, “But you have to promise me too, promise that you won’t give up, that you’ll keep that love alive in your heart. Promise me Kate.”
“I, I promise…” she said hesitantly, squeezing his warm hands assuredly.
Luc nodded and relinquished his hold to gently trail his fingers down the edge of her face again, tracing the sculpted profile of her forehead, cheeks, chin…
Kate closed her eyes, liking the way his touch felt. Suddenly she turned and moved her head, kissing the inside of his hand softly as it brushed past her lips and rubbed her cheek against his fingers.
Luc watched her, his expression becoming painful and sad as he felt her lips touch his hand. It was all too much and he drew her close into his arms, holding her in a dizzying embrace, his face mere inches from hers. Kate kept her eyes closed throughout but turned her face up to meet his; she could feel his breath against her cheek, warm and moist in the cold night. His hair fell a little into her face, tickling her skin tantalisingly as he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
Kate sighed into the kiss, his lips were so soft, his kiss so tender and needy. Gently his lips caressed hers in a tender and passionate embrace that neither ever wanted to end. Carefully Luc pulled away, feeling the Powers That Be beckoning to him, calling him back, angry that he had taken such liberties with such an important mission. He didn’t care. If he never came back to this plane of existence it was worth it, just one moment more holding Kate in his arms, feeling her supple warmth melting into his own, her mortal body moulding against his, yielding to his kiss… it was worth it. People had died for less.
“I have to go… it’s time…” he whispered softly, caressing her cheek one last time, his eyes mapping out every curve, every line, every feature. He never wanted to forget the look in her eyes tonight, it would sustain him for all eternity. He carefully slipped out of her arms, backing away slowly into the darkness. “Remember what you promised.”
Kate watched as Luc began to vanish, fading into the night. Suddenly she called out his name, stopping him in his tracks. “Luc,” she said again, softer and pleadingly, “Look after Emma for me.”
Luc smiled confidently. “Of course I will.”
Reintroducing Jason Carter as Lucien Aeterus
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 3rd March 2007 – 3:15pm
Douglas walked quickly down the street holding his grocery bags in each arm. He had made a few quick stops, including the Bibliophile where he managed to get some books on demons. He had finished his shopping expedition with a trip to the hardware store which was when he knew the woman was following him. He had noticed her when he was in Bibliophile but didn’t pay much attention to her until she followed him the three blocks to the hardware store, deliberately passing two on the way to the one he was in until just a few moments ago.
Douglas turned to look at the woman’s face and got an eerie feeling that he had seen her somewhere before but he just couldn’t quite place her face.
Tash saw the man turn and kept her demeanour as casual as possible. *Damn, sprung!* She slowed her walk as much as she dared, but it was apparent that the man she’d followed was fully aware of her presence, though the frown on his face told her he might not be sure who she was yet. Now that she’d seen his face properly, however, her suspicions from Bibliophile were confirmed. She’d been at the shop looking for Daye to tell her the terrible news about Emma, and when she’d learned Daye was out all day had been about to leave when she’d spotted the man browsing the shelves. His aura had looked familiar, and now that she could see his face she knew – it was the man who’d rescued her from James. The one who had the same grin as James.
Douglas picked up his pace as he realised the woman had clocked him. He quickly turned into an empty alleyway and placed his groceries down before turning to face the alleyway entrance. He quickly checked his gun, took off the safety and made sure the silencer was on tight, watching as the woman entered the alleyway. Her face dropped as she saw him pointing the gun at her, then Douglas motioned with his gun for her to come into the shadows. “Move, now.”
“What is it with shitheads and their guns lately?” Tash grumbled as she approached the man. She stood before him, her arms held out wide. “So, you going to just kill me here or what? Seems a shame after you went to all that trouble to save my life.”
Monk had a serious expression on his face as he spoke. “I don’t want to kill you... but I will if I have to.” The serious expression dissipated and he began to chuckle, “I’m a soldier – we like guns, makes killing folk a whole lot easer. Now if you would please follow me into this alleyway which is perfect for hiding a dead body…”
The expression on Tash’s face was one of sardonic exasperation as Monk holstered his gun and said, “Aw come on, I’m fucking with you.”
As Monk and Tash walked down the alleyway she turned to him and asked, “So who and what are you, and why are you in LA?”
Monk gave his James smile again which sent a shiver down Tash’s back and he spoke, “I shouldn’t really tell you anything but I’ve been doing some checking up on the ‘White Hats’, as you say, and you don’t seem like bad people so I’m going to tell you some things. First of all my name’s Douglas Anderson and I work for the Watchers’ Council, but as you saw before I’m not the stereotypical tweed wearer.”
This stopped Tash in her tracks. “You’re a Watcher?” she said with some incredulity. Monk’s – Douglas’, she corrected herself – aura didn’t indicate any falsehood, but even her contact with Daye and Jess hadn’t really prepared her for the idea of a commando-style Watcher.
“Ok,” she continued, “let’s grant that you’re with the Watchers – what I’m most keen to know is, what happened to that bastard vampire who was torturing me? ’Cause if he’s not dead, I’d dearly love to have the privilege.”
Monk’s face became serious. “I’m not a Watcher per se but I find that relaxes people. I just work for the Watchers. We don’t like watching, we prefer actually killing demons that pose a threat to the world. Now as for James, he is alive and well and it will remain that way because he is very, very important to the safety of the world.” Monk grinned, “So, hows about we get out of this dank alleyway and go for a bite to eat because I’m starving.”
Tash regarded the man for a quiet minute. “All right,” she finally conceded, “I didn’t really have lunch today, so food sounds good to me.” She gestured over her shoulder, “Though you’d better collect your bags of groceries before someone makes off with them. And,” she finished as she turned to leave the alleyway by the way they’d come in, “while we’re eating you can tell me exactly why I can’t dust James.”
*****
The small diner wasn’t terribly crowded at this time of day. It was late for lunch but early for dinner, and Tash and Monk made a strange couple as they sat and regarded the menus. Ordering a margarita, Tash sat back on her side of the booth and appraised Monk carefully.
“So, Douglas – or should I call you Doug? – what’s so important about keeping James… well, alive isn’t exactly the term I’d use, but it’ll do for now.” Tash offered him a winning smile but her eyes remained fixed steadily on his.
Monk gave the Jamesesque smirk which he was guessing was freaking her out a tad and started, “I can’t really tell you the whole story; in fact I can’t even tell you half the story but this I know I can tell you. You went up against the Elders and came out alive... well, most of you, and that’s a feat in itself but the guy us ghosts are after is more powerful than all of those vampires combined.”
Monk sipped at the coffee he had ordered before clearing his throat and beginning again, “James is important to us because back in his human days he stopped this big evil from entering our world. The reason James needs to be alive now is so he can die later... or at least be sucked into some hell dimension... that’s all I can tell you, love. Any more and I’m likely to get shot in my sleep.”
Staring into her drink for a moment, Tash reflected on what Monk had said, trying not to dwell on the memories of the fight against the Elders and its consequences. As she took a sip she momentarily distracted herself, giggling slightly as she thought, *I bet he’d hate it if I started calling him ‘Douggie’.*
Bringing herself back to Earth she said, “Hell dimension sounds good, fitting almost. So, he’s your super weapon against a Big Bad... If it’s worse than the four Elders combined, then it has to be nasty.” Sighing heavily, Tash made a decision. “Look, I know guys like you like to work with your own groups and all that, but trust me - we White Hats are beginning to have a lot of experience with stopping Big Bads. When the time comes, if there’s any way we can help out... though it’d help if we knew what we’d be facing, of course.” Tash smiled ingenuously, hoping to fish some more information out of the man.
Monk chuckled, “His name is Dukal. He’s not a demon, he’s a human - an ex-Watcher from something like 4000 years ago. Rather nasty fuck as I hear, he did all sorts of experiments on demons and humans. He basically wanted to find the secret of immortality, which he did but he also has the power to give it and take it away. Eventually his followers fucked him over and trapped him in a hell dimension.”
Monk finished off his coffee and smirked. “Now really, that’s all I can tell you.”
Tash filed the name away in her memory for later, when she could dig through Sorrow’s notes and could ask Daye what information she might have on an ex-Watcher named Dukal. While she was at it, the term ‘ghosts’ warranted some attention too, in relation to the Watchers’ Council.
“All right,” she nodded. “I’m grateful for the explanation, at least. I’ll bear it in mind if I come across James again. But if he attacks me or anyone else while I’m patrolling, I will fight him. If you want to keep him safe, you might want to remember that it’s dangerous out there for a vampire when there are hunters around.”
Monk smirked, “I agree, but I doubt you could take James, being that he pretty much made the ghosts. He was really the first fucking shit kicker in the Watchers’ Council. Sods still don’t get the idea of making it a general rule: All Watchers must actually fight demons.” Monk realized he was going into a rant and abruptly stopped. “Sorry, Watchers just piss me off with their silly rules.”
Tash blinked for a moment, trying to keep her jaw from hitting the tabletop. “Do you mean to say James used to be a Watcher before he was turned?”
Monk flashed his devilish grin. “Naw, he wasn’t a Watcher he was the Watcher. James did more good than the Slayers of that era and he lived longer than both of them. He was supposed to have stopped something like eight or nine armageddons... aw, hell if I know. Go read a book about him, I’m pretty sure there is a couple out there. His real name was James Connor MacPherson.”
Monk called the waitress over and asked for the bill at which point he noticed Tash’s shocked face. “Yea, he was descended from the Picts... blue naked guys who ran around killing Romans. He got the name MacPherson because his father was a priest.”
Draining the last of her margarita, Tash blew out a long breath. “Well, that explains why he’s so tough, at least, even with the boosts from the Elders.”
Despite Monk’s revelations, Tash noticed that he’d never answered her offer of help, and wondered if he was simply avoiding the issue. Rather than ask again, Tash slid over a card. It bore a simple logo, the letters W H, and a phone number. “That’s my cell phone, if you need us to help out with any upcoming apocalypses,” she smiled.
Monk smiled at Tash. “I will keep it in mind, but I’m not the leader. But now I gotta go.” Monk nodded towards two men eating a late lunch. “CIA. You are not going to want to be here in five minutes because I’m going to have to take care of them.”
Tash frowned, glancing at the two men. “They’re human,” she hissed, “Not vampires, not demons. Even if they do work for the US Government, technically they’re the good guys - the ones we fight the monsters for.”
Monk kept a grin on his face, “Well if you truly think demons are the worst thing on the planet you are highly deluded. I’ve never really met demons who have committed genocide on their own race, which our people have been doing since as long as anyone can remember. There are two things that will happen: either I knock them out and take off or I kill them and take off.”
Monk gave a devilish grin. “Either way, I’m easy.”
Tash’s eyes narrowed as she reconsidered her earlier offer of help. Still, Monk had her card and she couldn’t very well take it back now. And right now wasn’t the time to get into a debate about demon ethics vs. human ethics. Though she had heard of several demon races that did indeed commit genocide.
However, she limited herself to saying, “Then tell me you’re going to use the ‘knockout’ option only, and I’ll leave you to it. Otherwise, I’ll be staying - and stopping you from killing them.” She sat back and watched, hoping Monk would genuinely attempt to ‘take care of’ the men without killing them - and was alert for the tiniest hint of a lie in his aura.
Monk growled, “Fine, I’ll knock them out.” He got up out of his chair and walked over to the two CIA agents who had been following them, and slammed his fist into the first man’s throat and an elbow into the second man’s temple, knocking both them out cold.
Along with the rest of the patrons, Tash stood up at this sudden violence. Putting on her best innocent bystander look, she shot Monk a grudging nod of respect, then disappeared out the door with the rest of the fleeing diners. Backtracking to where she’d parked her bike near Bibliophile, Tash checked the time and grimaced. *Poor Kate, I promised her I’d be back before four, and it’s past that already!*
Leaping onto her bike and roaring down the road, she wondered just what the enigmatic Doug Anderson hadn’t told her...
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 6th March 2007 - 9:28pm
It was late, Tash knew, and she'd only been around to the house earlier that day. Kate was still mechanically going through the funeral arrangements and Tash had forced the woman to eat a little lunch. Some of Daye's casserole was still in the fridge so Tash had heated it up and watched as Kate choked it down. Galen's continued absence was a sore point, though, and more than once Tash had been tempted to find him and confront him. But a voice kept telling her to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the funeral would be what he needed to jolt him from his sudden aloofness. But she worried about its effect on Kate, and decided to visit this evening. Kate had hinted and Jack had said outright that Galen tended not to be around much even at night, and Tash knew that tonight of all nights Kate needed as much support as possible, and she couldn't in all conscience allow Jack to shoulder all of it.
And so the quiet of Birch Street was interrupted by Tash's motorbike engine as she rode towards her friend's house once more. As suspected, Galen's car was missing from the driveway and Tash felt a scowl tighten her features as she imagined herself throttling some sense into the man. But anger at Galen wasn't going to help Kate, so she smoothed the ire from her face and approached the front door.
Her ringing went unanswered, however, although she could see light spilling from the edges of the drawn curtains. Investigating around the corner of the house, Tash noticed a splash of light from the kitchen door, which stood open to the night air. Feeling a stab of alarm, she ran towards the door, calling Kate's name.
A quick check inside revealed no Kate, but Tash spotted the broken telephone and her worry rose a notch. She could see the scenario in her mind's eye. Someone or something had broken into the house and dragged Kate away as she was trying to phone someone for help... But Tash chased that image from her head. For starters, the door didn't look forced at all, and there were no other signs of a struggle - and Kate was too accomplished a witch to go without a fight, even in the depths of her grief.
So Tash returned outside, calling again. "Kate! Kate... Kate are you out here?"
Kate could hear someone shouting frantically in the quiet night but she didn’t say anything. Slowly she opened her eyes, a cloud of stars blurring excitedly, swirling in and out of focus between the open branches of the oak tree which she lay under. She smiled softly, watching them shine brightly in the dark night sky as the shouting grew louder. It sounded familiar and she frowned, hearing the words more clearly for the first time.
“Kate! Kate… Kate are you out here?”
“Uhhmmm, no…” she moaned in protest, feeling the neck of the scotch bottle still held tightly in her hand. She drew her empty hand up to her face, trailing her cold fingers across her lips contentedly, still feeling the urgency of Luc’s tender kiss upon her mouth.
Tash's eyes scoured the backyard, hoping for a clue. Then she saw it, a faint flicker of an aura down low, in the grass beneath a tree. A slurred mumble reached her ears, and soon Tash was kneeling beside Kate, relief mixing with concern at the woman's sorry state. With her senses attuned to picking up any trace of her friend, Tash was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of sexuality that made her hastily throw up her shields again, blocking out all but the strongest of Kate's emotions.
The empty bottle told the rest of the story.
Tash slipped an arm under Kate's neck, wrapping the gloved fingers of her other hand in Kate's cold hand. "Kate, it's me, Tash. Can you see me?"
“Tash?” moaned Kate, forcing her eyes open again. She squinted at the woman who hovered over her, groaning a little as she slipped her arm under her neck and lifted her up a bit, taking her hand. She couldn’t help laughing, feeling the tickly grass beneath her bare legs. Some of that late night moisture had already begun to seep through the thin fabric of her dress. “Tash… I was just having a um… a little um… drink… want to join me?” she giggled, hiccupping again.
Tash smile ruefully, "So I see..." Truth be told, she'd been hitting the bottle herself a bit of late, but not all at once at least. "Maybe another time, Kate. Would you like to go back inside for now? It's getting a little chilly out here."
Kate smiled at her friend as she helped pull her to her feet, wrapping her arm around Tash’s shoulders while Tash wrapped her own arm around Kate and under her arm to steady her drunken friend as they headed back towards the house. Kate wobbled with every step, her grip on Tash tightening in response. “You won’t believe what happened when I tell you…” she whispered in a conspiratorial fashion, stumbling to stay upright at they walked. “He was here with me…” she sighed, “… just like he said he would.”
Struggling to keep Kate walking in a more-or-less straight line, Tash found herself wondering if this he was the one who'd evoked such strongly erotic feelings from Kate earlier. "Who was here?" she asked, somehow knowing that the answer wasn't going to be Galen, but unsure who else it would be. And wondering if she really wanted to know. Still, the question was out there now, hanging between them.
Kate breathed a sigh of unbridled contentment as she remembered everything that had happened. It all seemed so clear, even in her drunken state. Was that the design of The Powers That Be? Or had it all been a dream after all? “Luc…” she sighed as they started up the steps of the porch, “it was Luc, Tash… he came to me, after all this time he came to me.”
For a second Tash stopped cold in her tracks, then quickly compensated for Kate as the woman lurched. Repositioning her grip on Kate, Tash continued to guide her into the house and to the couch. But that image - the old, dead lover come back to visit - was all too fresh in Tash's own mind. Her thoughts flew back to Christmas Eve and the pseudo-Victor who had shown up in her apartment, and tears threatened until she fought them back with a choking sob. Instead, she busied herself arranging Kate's limbs comfortably and fussing over her with cushions.
"A dream?" she ventured. "You weren't exactly awake out there - you dreamed about Luc? That's only natural, it's not really been that long since he..." Tash began to kick herself for her insensitivity, then figured dammit, it was a word like any other and Kate deserved better than to be tiptoed around. "... died," she finished firmly.
Kate shook her head, the living room swaying dizzyingly around her as she did. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m, I’m drunk, I know that Tash… but he was real, real. He touched me, he held me, he…” She couldn’t help but smile and blush a little as she remembered the way he had kissed her. “He was just like I remembered, so gentle and tender…” She closed her eyes momentarily holding back her tears of frustration. She had wanted to go with him, she didn’t even know where that was… all she’d known was how safe and cared for he’d made her feel.
“He knew, Tash, he knew about Emma, he said he’d look after her for me.”
Closing her eyes, Tash felt the single ray of hope that shone through Kate's despair. If an apparition was the one thing that could give Kate a form of closure with Emma, then Tash wasn't about to burst her bubble. And in this world, who knew? Maybe Luc really had found a way to revisit his former lover.
"Then she's in good hands," was all Tash said. "If anyone can take care of her properly, it's Luc."
Kate nodded. “He would, wouldn’t he?” she asked gently, though her own voice was tinged with the realisation of that fact. It wouldn’t matter to Luc that Emma wasn’t his daughter. She was Kate’s child, that was all he needed to know. “I knew you’d understand,” she said to Tash, a slight smile breaking through her sorrowful expression. “He made me promise not to give up, to keep love in my heart… he made me promise him. That’s so like Luc.”
Galen frowned as he saw Tash’s bike parked up in the driveway. He climbed out of his car and made his way up to the front door. He’d half decided to just not bother, to go back out at least until Tash had gone, that was until he heard the voices of the two women coming from the living room. Kate sounded… he couldn’t put his finger on it, strange, not herself, at least not how she had been for the past week since…
He opened the door further, walking into the hallway. “He made me promise not to give up, to keep love in my heart… he made me promise him. That’s so like Luc.” A deep frown spread across his forehead as he wandered into the living room. The two women were on the couch, Kate half laid out, her head resting among a pile of cushions with Tash sitting at her side.
“What’s going on here?” he asked harshly, his eyes recognising the half sleepy look on Kate’s face as she lay, barely able to lift her head. Ignoring whatever glare he was receiving from Tash he leaned in close to Kate and smelled her breath before recoiling with disgust. “She’s drunk,” he announced with disdain, turning back to Tash. “Just what is going on here?”
Tash immediately bridled at Galen's tone, but held her anger in check. Her voice was a little frosty, though, as she said, "I just got here a few minutes ago. Kate's been drowning her sorrows and frankly, apart from a hangover she'll likely have in the morning, I think it's not done her any harm."
Softening her tone considerably, Tash went on, "Galen... I know you're trying to deal with Emma's death too, but I really think you'd both be better off if you tried to deal with it together instead of separately."
Galen’s face screwed up in pain, god knew he didn’t want things to be like this! He loved Kate, he really did. He didn’t want to see her hurting, resorting to drink in a bid to forget, it was just- He balled his hands up tightly, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was boiling over with rage, holding it just beneath the surface. “I don’t need your concern Tash,” he spat out bitterly, unable to remove his eyes from Kate as she lay on the sofa, only half conscious of her surroundings. Had she really been talking about Luc or had he imagined it?
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. To top it all it was the funeral tomorrow, the last thing he needed was to have to deal with Kate all hungover in the morning. “Look I’m-” He sighed tiredly, “It’s getting late and,” he turned to his wife and shook his head disappointedly, “I should take Kate up to bed.”
"What is it, Galen? What's stopping you from being the support Kate needs? It would work both ways, you know. As you support her, she'd support you. It would lessen the pain for both of you." Tash rose from the couch and stood resolute before Galen. "You can resent me all you like, but I'm your friend and I'm worried that this is harder for both of you than it has to be. Kate will help you through this if you let her, and nobody can fill the space for her that you hold."
Galen stood exasperatedly before Tash, glancing at Kate who had seemingly fallen asleep on the couch. “I… I just can’t,” he forced out, his voice hard and brittle, “I can’t Tash, not- not with her.” He sighed deeply in frustration. She was right; this whole thing, his not being able to talk to Kate, it made everything worse, harder than it had to be. But he couldn’t help it. He just couldn’t talk to Kate.
Sorrow contorted Tash's face, and she glanced at Kate who was now beginning to snore softly in her drunken stupor. "She's grieving for you, too, you know. It's not just Emma's death that has her like this." She turned back to fix Galen's gaze with her own. "She's grieving the loss of her husband as well."
She watched Galen's face twist with the conflicting emotions he felt, and she cut through his silence with a single question. "Do you love her?"
Galen didn’t even need a moment to think of his answer. Of course he loved her, that was part of his problem. How could he love her so much and at the same time hate her? Everything Tash said was right, he could see that now. He’d known it for days; every time Kate looked at him it was sadness and loneliness that he saw in her eyes. Hurt that he had caused. The trouble was it changed nothing. “Of course I love her,” he said painfully. *Then how can you treat her so badly? How can you think the things you do?*
Guilt, worry, resentment, loathing and love all flitted through Galen's aura, overlaid with a tinge of sadness that Tash feared would never truly go away. And though his reply had been clear and instantaneous, there was an air of ambiguity. Still, she had to take him at face value at the moment. She smiled sadly.
“Then I’ll help you get her upstairs, you’ll make sure she drinks as much water as she can stand, and you’ll lie beside her and hold her all night, and in the morning you’ll help with her hangover. And even though she’ll be all pasty-faced and her eyes will be red, you’ll tell her she’s the most beautiful woman in the world and that nothing is more important to you than her. And you’ll mean it."
Galen had to pause then, watching Tash as she stood waiting for him to agree, waiting for him to comply. And he could say it, yes, fine, he’d do what she said. In truth he wanted to, he wanted to be able to do all the things she’d said. But how could he if it wasn’t how he felt? He had barely even slept in the same bed as Kate since Emma had died, he couldn’t because just being that close to her, the woman who- He shook his head. “I can’t promise that Tash,” then just as she opened her mouth to say something he cut her off, “I can’t promise it, but I’ll try. I promise to try.”
Closing her mouth, Tash subsided. He was offering the best he could manage, she could see that. She just had to hope it was enough to overcome whatever was causing his detachment from his wife.
"All right, then," she said, "You take that arm, I'll take this one." Between the two of them they half-carried, half-walked a barely conscious Kate up the stairs to their bedroom.
Tash helped wrap up Kate warmly in a pretty floral shawl while Galen poured a glass of water and lifted Kate's head, cajoling her to drink. She watched for a moment, then smiled gently at the bereaved man. "Well, I think I'll leave her in your capable hands. If there's anything you need, you know my number. And... try to get some rest yourself." She laid a warm hand on his shoulder, briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 5th
9:05 pm
Alessa’s apartment
James walked down the darkened street. The sound of his boots scraping on the ground was the only noise being made in at least three blocks. It was very unusual for the city to be so quiet; the lack of noise only made him question himself. *She won’t want to see you James, you aren’t exactly the most popular person in this city at the moment.*
James looked up at the building he had stopped at without realizing it. *It’s funny the way your feet just take you to the place you want to go.* He climbed the stairs of the stoop and headed into the front door and up to Alessa’s apartment. He hoped that Inés would be there; he couldn’t bear the thought of Alessa being there by herself and her just telling him to fuck right off. As James neared Alessa’s door and rang the bell, he felt butterflies flutter in his stomach.
Alessa heard the doorbell and groaned. She was alone; Inés had just left for some last minute grocery errands before the supermarket closed for the evening. She felt much better after today’s bath and grooming, but she was tired and had lain down again. She didn’t want to move now, but she forced herself to do it. She sat up and, putting on her towel robe, walked unsteadily towards the door. She really was feeling better, her ribs almost didn’t hurt and her cough was receding, but she still felt dizzy when standing.
“Coming, coming!” she said loudly when she heard the retreating steps of whoever was out there. When she finally opened the door it was to see James already going down the steps. “Hey!” she said, “You have to give a girl some time to get to the door, you know?”
James turned to look Alessa and gave his signature grin. He walked over to her, arms outstretched, but Alessa retreated and she began to speak. “You don’t want to get what I've got, trust me.”
James smirked, "I'm a vampire, remember? I don't get sick." James hugged Alessa tightly, but quickly released her when he heard the demoness moan, an apologetic smile in his face. Then he walked into the house.
"I thought you couldn’t..." said Alessa, confused, as she turned to see him nonchalantly walk into her living room.
He turned and grinned at her. “You don’t remember?” At her puzzled look he explained, “You invited me in when we got here from Colombia.”
Alessa smiled weakly. Yet another thing she didn’t remember, but she had been so weak then that it wasn’t surprising.
“Well, let me reinforce it. Welcome to my house, James.”
She looked at him, and he looked back. This time she wasn’t delirious or weak, and she knew what she was doing. This vampire wasn’t like others, she repeated to herself, but this time with conviction. He wouldn’t have risked going to Colombia just to help her otherwise. And she didn’t feel too obliged to Tash and the White Hats anyway. James held her gaze a few seconds and nodded, a silent message had been spoken.
He grinned then, breaking the spell. "Thank you, pet. I think it’s safe now too, since Chance is dea..." James just realized what he said and his eyes where drawn to his boots "... Alessa... I’m so sorry."
She felt the tears get to her eyes, and blinked to keep them at bay. She wouldn’t cry again.
“Let’s not talk about him, please.” She looked at James in the eye, and smiled a tight smile. “I… I’m not ready to talk about him yet.” Her voice almost broke but she composed herself. “Sit down,” she told him, “I’m sorry, but Inés isn’t around, if you wanted to see her.”
James shook his head "I'm not here to see Inés... I wanted to come see you; just see how you were, you know pet?"
Alessa smiled brightly at him, and she took his hand in hers. It felt cool to the touch, and reassuring. “I’m fine, much better, thanks.” She fastened her grip. “I wanted to thank you for going to Colombia for me too… Connor.”
James lowered his head "I'm sorry for lying to your cousin about my name, although I wasn’t really lying. Connor is my middle name."
James moved towards the centre of the living room and sat himself down on the couch. "Alessa, I'm sorry about what happened, the whole Tash thing... that wasn’t me... it was the demon inside of me... " James looked down at his boots, not being able to keep eye contact with Alessa for more than a couple of seconds at a time.
She cocked her head and sat beside him. That was something that had bothered her from the moment she had learnt about it, however now her feelings had shifted from outrage to just curiosity. She didn’t bother to think about the reasons for this change.
“Well, James, I kept telling Ch- them that you weren’t like this, but you got me doubting there. Whatever happened to you?” She gave a grim laugh, “Come on James, torture Tash? Hell, torture anybody? That’s not you. I know you are a vampire, but… but you never acted like that. At least since I met you.” She blushed, she felt silly talking like this to him, but she needed to understand.
James still couldn’t keep eye contact with her. "I was just that and I am still just that, a vampire. I was a love torn vampire too; but the ritual changed that. It let me free, the human part of me anyway."
Alessa searched his eyes and she found them; her green gaze anchoring them. She needed to understand this. “You mean you have a soul?”
James chuckled, still looking at his boots. "Not my soul. My soul is in the possession of a rather nasty monster... more like my human emotions, my memories, everything that made me what I was when I was human. After the Ghosts captured me they did the ritual."
Alessa pondered this. She had heard of the Ghosts, if she remembered right. They even had some connection with the Council, although why they would take the bother to make that ritual escaped her. Now, a ritual… it made sense, and it confirmed all she had always suspected. With his going to her rescue, the vampire had proven once again that he wasn’t the monster the rest believed. Inés had told her how he hadn’t hesitated to join the rescue party, even if it could have meant his exposure. After all Daye was Tash’s friend, and he must have known she was a Watcher and a member of the White Hats. With the kind of intel he had, he must’ve known this. No wonder he had told them his name was Connor McPherson.
“You don’t need to explain more. I understand the need to change your name, and again, I’m very grateful for your helping me.” She breathed deeply. “I won't expose you either, you may rest assured on this.”
She shrugged. “I’m not coming back to the White Hats, anyway.”
James looked shocked at this. "Why wouldn’t you go back to them? They are the only safe thing in this city."
“Ha, safe indeed! Tell that to Chance!” Her expression hardened. “I’m not going back. I can't be part of that group anymore. They did nothing for me, or for Chance. I don’t need them.”
James looked at her, her tone was decisive and her eyes gleamed an icy green. It was a different Alessa than he was used to. He could clearly read her feelings in her face.
Unaware of his inspection, Alessa felt the familiar coldness invade her. She felt an irrational anger against Darian, and in extension, against the rest of the White Hats. They hadn’t saved Chance; Darian hadn’t even come to see her, to tell her the details of Chance’s death. From all she had gathered, it had been a terrible misjudgement on his part to go to Israel alone. What good were the White Hats when they couldn’t protect their own? Even in her case, she had been rescued by an assortment of her own friends, Inés, Ellis and James, one of the Whities’ sworn enemies, and only Daye in account of the group. Who needed them after all?
A stranger, a vampire everybody hated, and her cousin. Her rescuers. Apart from Daye, of course. But she had probably acted upon some guilty feeling about the Council; she wondered if she had been kidnapped by any other organization whether the Watcher would have been so ready to help her! Probably not, just like the rest. What had the White Hats done about her disappearance? About Chance’s strange behaviour? Nothing. Nada.
They hadn’t even bothered to see her after her return.
She looked again at James, and forced herself to smile. “Now tell me, how have you been?”
The outburst had caught James off guard, and he had almost bored a hole thought his boots because he could not look at her in the face.
James cracked a smile. "I've been good. Nothing exciting, really. Although the kid and Darlome are being all moody lately. Don’t know what’s up with them."
Alessa wanted to ask him about Inés, but she controlled herself, she didn’t want his relationship with her cousin to come between their burgeoning friendship. Instead she joked, “Well, you could send them over here. We’d all share our moods.” She laughed at his expression, but then got serious. “Actually, your visit really has cheered me up, James. Gracias.”
"Thanks. That makes me feel better about things.” James smiled. “Could you tell Inés to give me a phone later? There is something I want to talk to her about."
“Sure,” she said, and bit her tongue not to ask him more.
James stood up and headed towards the door with her in tow. When she opened the door, she took his hand again and smiled hesitantly.
“Feel free to come whenever you want… friend?” Her eyes held a question but she was reassured when he responded to her grip, and smiled his crooked smile.
“I will, friend.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 6th
11:30 AM
Red Wood High School
Vincent walked down the empty corridors of Red Wood High School. Classes had started over an hour ago, but the kid didn’t care; he never showed up on time – hell, half the time he didn’t show up at all. However, every now and then he liked to attend; it was relaxing, normal, a life away from the supernatural.
*Well, I can still catch the last thirty minutes of History,* he thought whimsically as the clock wall turned half passed eleven.
“You and your attitude are not welcome in this class!!!”
Vincent’s ears perked to attention as he heard the annoying screeching of Mr. Mattson berating some troublesome student.
“OH NO! Whatever will I do, now that I can’t learn boring ass Shakespeare,” the kid’s voiced snapped back, the icy tone of sarcasm blatantly obvious.
*I know that voice,* Vincent smiled, as he turned down the following corridor, hoping to get a better look at the unfolding spectacle. *Never thought he was one for giving attitude.*
“Mr. Matthews, if you don’t change your tone I think Principle Cassidy would be very happy to have a talk with you in her office.”
Cole rudely turned his back to the professor, raised his right hand and proceeded to display a certain finger before walking away.
The teacher huffed angrily, before returning to his classroom, and slamming the door loudly.
“Who would have though you had such a pair,” Vincent said smiling, as he stepped fully into the hallway.
Cole scowled back at his peer, still upset, that the fat-ass teacher had spoken to him that way. *Condescending prick.* “Yeah, well, what’s it to you?”
“Whoa, cool the attitude brother, I’m just saying I was impressed how you handled that.”
He had handled that rather smoothly hadn’t he? Uncharisitcally, but smoothly. “Sorry ’bout that, I didn’t mean to snap at you. In fact, let me make it up to you. I’m jetting this hellhole, and going to grab something to eat. You in?”
Vincent didn’t even bother deliberating, “I’m in.”