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Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Firefly's picture

*** 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.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Disposable_Hero's picture

Thursday 15th March - 3:46am
Watcher’s Council Mansion, LA
Lord Delancre’s office

“My Lord,” Moore said as he bowed. The room was dark at this time of the night, lit by a few lights artistically designed to look like antiquated lamps. “I do not wish to disturb you, but I believed you would a report as soon as possible.”

“You believe correctly, Moore,” Ambrose Delancre answered, remaining sitting whilst Moore stood. It was clear who was in charge, and Delancre liked it that way. “So report.”

“Mr. Ashton achieved his objective to the letter. He successfully lured the Blood Axes to the humans, and then attacked the Blood Axes’ base of operations. I had a man check the lair afterwards. All ten had been destroyed, the other two barely got away with their lives. He did this even though we told him there were ten vampires instead of twelve. Not only did the surprise fail to prevent him from reaching his goal, I believe he enjoyed it.”

Delancre nodded. “What information we have in his record told me as such. Did Mr. Ashton show any sign of injury?”

“Many signs, my lord. Several broken bones and other damage. Perhaps a broken arm and fractured wrist. I had one of our mystic healers go over him whilst he was sleeping. But it seems our efforts were interrupted, only to have the healing continued by another.” Moore shrugged, “Combined with his demonic physiology, he should awake tomorrow with no more than a scratch or bruise.”

“Ah. He does not care for his own personal safety. That is very useful. Good work, Moore. As for the interruption… as long as he is healed, then no harm is done. What of the two gangs?”

Moore nodded, accepting the praise. “The humans were wiped out to a man. As for the Blood Axes, both their attack and Kyle’s attack on them have left them shattered. Neither will pose any problem to us.”

In the wake of the destruction of the Black Veins, the Blood Axes had emerged as the strongest in the power gap. Now that problem had been eliminated. As for the humans, they had represented the largest most organised vampire-hunting group in LA, with exception of course of the White Hats. Now they too were gone, and would do nothing to stand against Delancre. “Will you now use him as you have planned?”

For a minute, Delancre considered this. “Perhaps. Despite his mental imbalances, Mr. Ashton was able to perform to expectations. The first test was a success, yes, but he will need to face more than vampires to be of any real use to us. When an opportunity comes along, we will test him again.”

“Do you wish me to search for such an opportunity, lord?” Moore asked. Already he had thought of several.

“No, no. We have time to wait yet, I believe. I don’t want to appear too eager to our Mr. Ashton. Let him enjoy his reward, for now. When it is gone, he’ll regret it, and will be looking for us no doubt to collect more. By then something should have come up.”

daye quits the WC and the bib

Firefly's picture

*** Thursday, March 15, 2007, 8 am ***

Alicia Wyldling gazed out the window of the speeding van, ignoring the way her stomach lurched as Daye took the curves of the narrow road into the Hollywood hills at breakneck speed. She also avoided looking at the woman behind the wheel, because doing so had become more unsettling than the wild ride. Daye sprawled behind the wheel, one arm resting on the open window. She was dressed in black silk pants that clung to her curves and a black silk shirt that dipped low, showcasing an astonishing amount of cleavage. Her long red hair was pinned up in a haphazard fashion, and her normally fair complexion was even paler than usual. She wore dark glasses, which covered the shadowed eyes that had fixed on Alicia briefly in the shop less than an hour ago.

Daye had come in early, dragged Alicia out of the store, and headed for the Council house. Alicia could only imagine the reasons why. The woman’s behaviour was growing more and more erratic, and Alicia’s attempts at concerned inquiry had repeatedly been harshly rebuffed. Thus, she found herself in the van as it finally pulled up before the impressive edifice of the Council estate. Sighing, Alicia slid out of the van as the engine died. She followed Daye up to the door, hesitating only a moment when the younger woman threw open the door without waiting to be greeted and headed for Lord Delancre’s study. Aware that there was danger lurking here, Alicia continued on nonetheless.

Tash was sitting at the table in Delancre’s study as he covered in detail the particular attributes of each of his soldier demons. They’d just reached the one that had skin so adhesive that it wrenched weapons from its opponents’ hands if it was struck, when the door to the study banged open, startling both of them. Tash blinked at Daye’s outfit as the woman strode forcefully into the room, the door guard cowering behind her, bowing and scraping in abject apology to his Lord at not being able to prevent Daye from entering.

Delancre rose, his face a mask of fury. “What is the meaning of this interruption?” he demanded.

Daye smirked at the outraged tone in Delancre’s voice. *This is going to be fun,* she thought, glancing back to see Alicia Wyldling hurrying into the room.

“I have something to discuss with you Ambrose,” Daye replied insolently. “I figured this was the best time. And I’ve brought your little spy along so I don’t have to repeat myself.”

Tash smiled in amusement as she watched Daye’s opening salvo hit home. Preparing herself for a good morning’s entertainment, she leant back in her chair and waited for Delancre’s riposte.

Delancre didn’t so much as spare a glance at Alicia Wyldling, instead bringing the full force of his personality to bear on the insolent woman before him. She was behaving perfectly badly, in a way the Daye he’d known never would have. It just showed how quickly the Hyde virus could take effect in someone with strong magical abilities. He kept his expression as one of pure anger, however, as he spoke.

“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Blaise,” he said tightly, “but as you can see,” he gestured to Tash seated beside him, “I already have an appointment this morning. Perhaps you should make an appointment with my secretary. Do please close the door on your way out.”

Tash was impressed. The man’s tone was fiercely polite. Nobody could take umbrage at his actual words, but the underlying intent was all too clear - and somewhat brutal.

Daye shrugged, dropping into a chair before the desk, pointedly ignoring his words as well as the presence of her friend in the room. “I don’t have a problem with doing this in front of Tash,” Daye said lazily. She flashed a feral grin at the woman. “She’s my friend, so I don’t mind if she knows what I think of you... Which is, by the way, that he’s an arrogant stuffed shirt of a bastard and that I’ve allowed both Ambrose and the other members of the Council far too much control in my life.”

Alicia’s eyes widened at Daye’s words and actions. She’s sensed this brewing for a while, but had refrained from reporting Daye’s behaviour to the Council out of deference to her friend. She’d obviously made a mistake.

“Sir...” Alicia spoke hesitantly, aware that she should at least offer the First Elder some warning of what Daye might be capable of.

Delancre turned his cold gaze on Mrs. Wyldling. “Alicia, be quiet,” he ordered softly. “I’ll handle this.”

Glancing between Daye and Ambrose, Tash was tempted to let them spar all day if they wanted to, but she hated to see her friend throw away her connections to the organisation that had once meant so much to her. Besides, now that the White Hats were to be working with Delancre, Tash didn’t want there to be any bad blood between them.

“Daye, you’re obviously upset. Maybe we should have a little chat before you say anything here that you might regret later?” she offered.

Daye sneered at Tash’s words. “Sorry, sweetie, but I’m way past talking it over. You see, I’ve finally figured it out. All of it.”

Daye’s words gave Delancre pause. *Has she discovered the virus, or Ryan or...*

“I’ve been holding myself back at the whim of these fools and their arbitrary rules,” Daye continued. “Well, no more. I’m done with that, and with them.”

“What are you saying?” Alicia’s voice was a horrified whisper.

Daye turned towards her, grinning nastily. “Don’t sound so frightened, little rabbit. This is what you’ve been wanting. I’m quitting. Now, you won’t have to worry about my ‘questionable loyalties’.”

Daye turned back to Delancre. “None of you will.”

Inwardly Delancre was thrilled. This was wonderful news. And for Daye to say all this in front of both Alicia and Natasha was just icing on the cake. He was sure her resignation from the White Hats wouldn’t be too long in following. *With things going so well, she may even turn against them later on. Oh, too perfect!*

Keeping his glee safely hidden under a tight veil of anger and outrage, he advanced on his wayward disciple and frowned. “How dare you turn your back on the Council, after everything we’ve done for you. Trained you, nurtured you, honed your abilities. Without us, you’d be nothing! A mere hedge witch trying to eke out a living telling fortunes at the back of some seedy shop.”

Tash rose from her seat, feeling the waves of anger from Delancre, and feeling that he was quite justified in feeling that way. He was right, of course. Daye had been given everything by the Council, and now she was defying them. “Daye!” she said, “You can’t mean what you say, surely? What’s gotten into you lately?”

“Finally some sense,” Daye retorted. “I’ve been given nothing by the Council... everything I am, everything I have, I’ve managed to sneak under the radar. You and the other Elders, you think you have a right to tell us what to do... to try and control and constrain us, to keep us from our potential. I’ve had enough of it. I’m ready to finally be free, to finally be what I’ve always had the potential to be. And I do mean it. I’m through with the Watchers.”

Daye glanced over at Alicia. “And I’m through with that musty book shop as well. That’s why you’re here. I’m turning the whole thing over to you, Alicia. Enjoy.” Daye rose from the chair, intending on walking out much as she’s walked in.

Don’t you walk out on me!” Delancre bellowed, trying to push Daye, to see just how far she would go. He strode forward and grabbed her by the arm. “I am the leader of this Council and you will answer to me!”

Daye spun around on her heel, her eyes going from Delancre’s hand on her arm to his red face. She was stupefied that the man would be so foolish. Shaking loose of him, she stepped back slowly.

“Are you mad?!” she shouted. “Don’t you ever, ever touch me... ever! I go where and when I please! I won’t be your pawn or your plaything any longer.”

Daye threw up her hands. Her green eyes darkened to nearly black. She drew forth the dark power contained within. She knew the house was shielded, but she decided to push the boundaries anyway.

”Mistress Hecate, I invoke thee... I command thee... raise the fury of thine voice... sing the song of destruction.”

The room was suddenly filled with a chill, howling wind. It blew the papers on the desk about and whipped around the people standing there. Daye fought to maintain it against the shielding and the force of the other magic users nearby. She managed only a few minutes. It was enough to get her point across.

Without another word, she strode out of the study.

Tash watched her friend leave the room with a feeling of confusion and despondency. What had happened to the Daye she knew? This woman wasn’t her, that was for sure. She turned to Delancre, who still wore a scowl and who still radiated an incredible sense of anger and betrayal. *Poor man,* she thought, *He taught her, it must be terrible for him to see her like this.*

Beneath his façade of fury, Delancre was ecstatic. The power Daye had tried to tap into was of the blackest kind, and it wouldn’t be long before the use of the dark magic would warp her soul beyond repair. That was one major source of concern he no longer had to worry about. Daye would be far too busy indulging her newly awakened appetites to bother about his schemes.

He let the false anger fade away to a sense of resignation, knowing it would continue to drown out his real emotions for the psychic Miss Brookes. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said apologetically, “Mrs Wyldling, it would seem that The Bibliophile is now your full concern once more. Please let me know if you require any assistance in that regard. I think it’s best if we try to put this unfortunate incident behind us. Perhaps when Miss Blaise has calmed down somewhat I may be able to open a dialogue with her.”

Alicia stared at the man in disbelief. She’d been suspicious of Daye’s recent activities, but watching her call upon a dark goddess to retaliate for the slight she’d believed had been given by the First Elder confirmed all of her worst fears. Daye had fallen completely from the path they strode. She was lost to the Watchers and to her friends as well.

“Sir... surely we can’t just let her go like that,” Alicia stammered. “Daye – Amanda – she’s obviously meddling in things she doesn’t have any right to. We have to do something.”

“And what do you suggest? Are you willing to run after her right now and confront her, in the mood she’s in?” Delancre asked reasonably. “No... I thought not. Don’t concern yourself, Alicia, I will look after my own. Amanda just needs a little time to cool down and then we can deal with her unfortunate decline into the use of forbidden magic. I won’t let her be lost to us.”

Alicia nodded reluctantly. *He’s undoubtedly right. He knows what’s best. He’s the First Elder. Even if...*

She knew that he had been somehow involved in the recent troubles Amanda had faced, but she had never found out to what extent, and the information she did have came from within the Council, and was therefore suspect. It was possible that the people who had enlisted her aid last year had been vying for power. Anything was possible within the political structure of an organization like the Watcher’s Council.

Sighing, Alicia replied. “Of course, sir, as you see fit. I... I just wish there was something more we could do. Something more I could do. She has been a particular friend of mine these last few years.”

“I understand,” Delancre said in a fatherly tone as he ushered Alicia to the door. “And if you do come across her you may well find the opportunity to try to find out why she has begun to follow this dreadful path. But I intend to put my best people onto this, to make sure that she suffers no harm from her misadventures. I’m just sorry I lost my temper back there, but when I saw the darkness she was carrying inside her I lost all reason for a moment.” He sighed regretfully, “We are all but human beings, after all, and fallible.”

Alicia felt reassured by both his tone and his words. She realized he was right. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the First Elder was ultimately just a person like the rest of them. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry I seemed to be attacking you, Lord Delancre,” she said. “I understand exactly what you mean.”

Alicia paused at the door. “I’ll just go back to the shop and... take care of things there.”

Delancre smiled. “Yes, I think that’s for the best.”

The door closed on Alicia and Delancre turned his attention back to Tash. “So sorry for the interruption. Now, where were we?”

Tash blinked in surprise. Daye’s tumultuous arrival and the sudden shift back to calm left her feeling unsettled. “Daye hasn’t been herself for some time,” she observed, “But I’m not sure what’s caused this sudden shift. Could it be a spell? Or demonic possession?” Her voice grew querulous at that last – she was sure she’d be able to spot demonic possession herself, but you never knew.

Delancre sat and put his papers back in order after the sudden windstorm. “It’s hard to say at this juncture,” he replied, “but rest assured I will be researching this thoroughly. If you like, I can ensure that a copy of anything we discover is passed along to you.” His smile was open and warm.

Tash found herself answering with a smile of her own. “Thanks, that’d be good. I can check with our mages as well, see if they come up with anything. And of course, I’ll send you any information on this that we find. I’d like to see Daye back to normal just as much as you do.”

“Splendid,” Delancre declared. “That will be excellent. Well, with that settled, let’s get back to the troop listings.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Heather's picture

Thursday, 15th March 2007 - 3:30pm

Tash surveyed her room as she made the finishing touches to the seating arrangements. She knew they’d be a smaller complement today, since Nikolai had rung to say that he had something scheduled that he just couldn’t get out of. He’d also mentioned that Reah was not likely to be showing up, either. Disappointed that they wouldn’t get to hear her good news, Tash had told him that she’d been working on making some new alliances and would tell him all about it next time she saw him. Nikolai’s response had been cautious, but Tash assured him that everything was fine.

Still, she expected to see most of the others. Well, Jeet was still comatose and after that morning’s events she figured Daye was extremely unlikely to appear. But Alessa must be feeling better by now and should turn up. And while she figured that Galen wouldn’t be likely to be going anywhere with his wife, she hoped Kate would turn to work to distract her from her troubles. Darian, of course, was still trying to find his lost ward, so he was bound to arrive to see what anyone else had uncovered. Though Tash felt a twinge of guilt when she realised that apart from telling Darian about Cole’s likely involvement with that man Oz’s beating, she hadn’t done a thing about the boy.

Mentally ticking off the members in her head, Tash pondered briefly about Quin. Without Reah there to drag the girl along, Tash figured Quin was a likely no-show. She shrugged. No big loss, the girl never said anything anyway. Lastly was Alice. Biting her lip, Tash wondered about Alice – she hadn’t seen her for days now, and there’d been no noise from her apartment.

Sighing in annoyance when she realised she was only likely to see four or five of the White Hats’ other ten members, she shifted the coffee table one centimetre to the right, then stood back to survey the result. The pause let her look on the brighter side, that at least she’d get to share her good news with some of them. It was better than nothing.

Glancing at the clock, she realised it was already a few minutes past their usual 3:30 starting time and she frowned at the door, willing someone to knock.

Galen had been torn about whether to come to the White Hat meeting or not. It was likely that he would see Daye here and after what had happened between them he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. In fact he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to control his temper around the woman.

*Damn her,* he thought angrily as he took a final draw from his cigarette and dropped in onto the kerb, crushing it beneath his foot, *and damn me too.*

Still, he felt an obligation to be there, one that he wasn’t about to let Daye force him to abandon. Plus there was another, more personal reason he’d decided to attend and it was that reason that had made him leave the four walls of his motel room and get a cab down to Poplar Avenue even though every other impulse in his body was opposed to it. He wanted to see Kate. He might have packed his bags and left her but that didn’t mean that he no longer cared for his wife, and at least this way he could see how she holding up on her own without it looking like that was what he was doing.

He looked at his watch as he climbed the stairs to Tash’s apartment on the top floor. He’d expected to meet some of the others on his way in but he figured maybe he was a bit late. It’d been a while since he’d been to one of these meetings anyway and perhaps they’d changed the time. Raising his hand to the door he knocked three times in rapid succession and waited.

Relief flooded Tash’s system at the knock. A group must have met outside and come up at once, perhaps. Beaming, she opened the door and was startled to see only Galen there. Her smile faltered for a second as she peered past him, hoping to see some of the others, but she fixed it back in place when her gaze returned to settle on him. “Galen, good to see you. The others must be running late, you’re the first here. Come in.”

She held the door open for him and wondered what to say to him. The last time she’d seen Galen was two days ago, when he’d overheard that unfortunate conversation between her and Kate about Kate’s indiscretion with Damen. It made for a few seconds of awkward silence, during which she surveyed his fading black eye and healing split lip.

“Um… so, how have you been?” she asked cautiously.

“I’ve, um, been better,” Galen replied, also feeling quite uncomfortable at them being the only two there. His mind immediately went back to that moment two days ago when he’d walked in on Tash and Kate and he felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach as he remembered the fight he and Kate had had after her hasty departure. Still he looked surprised at the empty room; he’d hoped for a full house and the opportunity to hang in the background for most of the afternoon.

He sighed, breaking up another uneasy silence and sat down on one of the assembled chairs. “I guess this is what happens when you change caterers huh?”

Tash let out a short laugh, but it quickly dried up. “I don’t know where everyone else is. They must just be running late. Nikolai rang to say he and Reah probably wouldn’t be here, but I haven’t heard from anyone else.”

Pouring a cup of coffee for Galen she set it down before him and sat on one of the sofas, clasping her hands together nervously. “Look, Galen. About the other day… I’m sorry. I mean, I’m sorry you found out that way, and I’m sorry it happened, and… And I shouldn’t really be bringing this up now either, should I?”

Galen’s face fell at the mention of only Nikolai calling in his absence, he’d just begun to wonder if anyone had phoned and secretly hoped that Kate might have, maybe mentioning how she was or… something. He cast a glance at the door as Tash placed the steaming cup in front of him.

“Forget it Tash,” he said as she fudged and fumbled her words, “It wasn’t really your fault, I- Well, I guess I would have found out some time right?” he sighed tiredly, rubbing his forehead in a weary gesture. How could everything have fallen apart so quickly? It was like watching a car crash and being powerless to stop it.

“Look I, well I guess you’re gonna hear it from someone so it may as well be me. Kate and I… we’re sort of separated at the moment. I mean it’s not permanent or anything like that,” he added hastily, “We just both need some space, time apart, hopefully let the dust settle on a few things.” He fidgeted a little, clenching and unclenching his bruised and sore fist before forcing himself to pick up the hot cup of coffee and take a sip. “I just thought you’d better know – in case you needed to contact me for anything, I’m staying at a motel downtown for the meantime.”

“Ah. That’s… well, I hope it all works out in the end.” Tash shifted in her seat uncomfortably, then glanced at the clock again as she wondered what to say next.

Frowning, she thought aloud, “It’s nearly four and they’re still not here? How can everyone be so late today?”

Turning her attention back to Galen she offered an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I really don’t know why they aren’t here, though some of them have been getting awfully slack lately. It’s like they just don’t care about this any more.” She shook her head, her voice growing harder as she became angrier. “It’s frustrating – I know we all work better when we work together, but lately everyone’s seemed more interested in doing their own thing. And I’ve been out there busting my arse making new alliances!”

Subsiding a little she sighed, lowering her voice to a gentler tone, “Sorry, Galen. I know it’s not your fault. Hell, with everything that’s been going on with you lately I didn’t expect to see you here today, and yet it looks like you’re the only one who could be bothered.”

Galen nodded awkwardly. Actually he was glad that Daye hadn’t shown up but aside from that he shared some of Tash’s concerns if not her frustration. He was worried about Kate though; he knew she wouldn’t just fail to show without calling. She was always quite pragmatic when it came to things like that.

“New alliances?” he asked after a moment, not really all that interested if he was being honest, but anything to shift the focus from himself and maybe if he could quell Tash’s irritation - then all the better too.

Smiling now, Tash said, “Yes. Ambrose Delancre, the leader of the Watchers’ Council, is in town with an entourage that includes the Slayer.” Her face darkened for a moment as Tash thought of the arrogant girl, but she wiped the expression away quickly. “Ana is pretty headstrong, but Delancre has a good head on his shoulders. He’s not one of the usual stuffed shirts they have – he’s actually bringing the Council into a more active role, which is great news, I think. Instead of just sitting on their arses they’re starting to get out and kick some butt, and Delancre’s offered a partnership with the White Hats.”

She beamed. “Isn’t that great? We’re worthy of notice, it seems. But,” her face fell as she looked around the empty room, “what’s the good of having an alliance like that if the White Hats suddenly disintegrates because only two people take the time to show up to a meeting? And not just that, but for half my scheduled training sessions I’ve been doing solo workouts.”

“Well it um, certainly sounds encouraging,” Galen agreed, noting Tash’s sudden mood swings, one minute she was high as a kite, then next grizzly and brooding again. “About this Delancre I mean, it’s about time the Watchers’ Council took a more active role in things. Still it’s probably best to err on the side of caution; Watchers don’t have the best track record when it comes to compromises. I know Kate said-”

He stopped suddenly, breathing in sharply as a flood of emotions hit him at the casual use of his wife’s name. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat a few times before continuing. “Well, when they stepped in to help the Coven of Sindell after the whole thing with Serapis, they practically ran the show.” Galen wet his lips self-consciously, reaching out to pick up the coffee cup again just to give his hands something to do. “At least, that’s what Kate told me anyway…”

Tash gave a feral grin. “Oh, don’t worry Galen. I’m well aware of the Council’s reputation. I don’t plan on becoming just another cog in Delancre’s machine. He’s holding something back from me for the moment, but I will find out exactly what he’s up to. In the meantime, the Council’s resources will be most useful, I’m sure. And right now the only hint of any particular big nasty is with those Ghosts, and Delancre already has their number. Unless anything else apocalyptic crops up, there’s not a lot to worry about.”

Smiling broadly, Tash collected Galen’s empty cup and took it to the kitchen. Her eyes fell on the microwave’s time display and her good mood suddenly evaporated again. *Damn ingrates. Why I bust my arse for those guys I have no idea.* The time clearly showed that it was now well past 4pm. It was quite apparent that not one other member was going to turn up today. *The least they could have done is bloody told me,* she thought furiously.

Rummaging around in her cupboard she came up with a bottle of tequila and opened the fridge to find some old limes lurking on the bottom shelf. “Fancy a margarita, Galen?” she called out, “Since none of those other fuckers have seen fit to appear.”

Galen raised an eyebrow in surprise at Tash’s sudden anger. He glanced at his watch again. “Well actually it’s a little early for me,” he said trying his best not to sound too condescending. He could drink with the best of them and god knew he had enough problems right now to send him reaching for the bottle, but even so… quarter past four o’clock in the afternoon was too early for anyone to be drowning their sorrows.

Besides, the last thing he needed right now was to get drunk and make another stupid mistake. He shuddered involuntarily and rose to his feet, following Tash into the kitchen and watching her as she pulled out a glass. “I’m sure something important must have come up. I know it’s no excuse but these things happen, I should know. Everyone appreciates the effort you put in Tash, it’s not like it goes unnoticed. You’re the backbone to this entire operation and everyone knows it.”

Tash put down the bottle and looked at Galen gratefully. “Thanks, I think I needed to hear that. I’ve been feeling… underappreciated lately, I think. I know there’ve been a lot of personal crises going on, but there comes a point where it’s just too hard to keep going in the face of overwhelming apathy.”

Pouring herself a shot of tequila and squeezing lime juice into the glass, she cocked an eyebrow at Galen. “Sure you don’t want one? They can make the emptiness feel a little less lonely.” Well, for a time, Tash had to admit to herself. Eventually memories of Victor forced their way back into her brain no matter how much she drank. Sighing, she held out the bottle to Galen to punctuate her offer.

Galen shook his head again, he’d done enough drinking in his past to know it wasn’t the answer to anything; it didn’t take the pain away it just made you forget about it for a while. Once the hangover had faded the pain was still there. He eyed Tash critically for a moment. He knew she’d been through a lot over the past six months with losing Victor and even Sorrow. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d even managed to grieve properly for either of them. Sorrow had been a very close friend and well, as for Victor, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to call him her soul mate. Galen knew he’d be devastated if anything ever happened to Kate and yet Tash had seemingly carried on as usual.

“You know… sometimes…” He sighed tiredly, he didn’t really want to get into this but then again Tash had counselled him on countless occasions. “Sometimes it’s better to feel than not to, you know what I mean?” Galen shook his head in dismay, “I don’t know, these past few weeks have been the worst in my entire life, losing Emma… I was so angry, I AM still angry… I don’t even know if that feeling will ever go away. But I think in some ways I’m more afraid of when I don’t feel anything. Like, when the pain subsides for a moment it’s almost like I’ve forgotten her and I don’t want that ever to happen.”

With her glass already half emptied, Tash glared balefully at Galen. “So what do you suggest? That I scream and cry and wail about how unfair the universe is? He’s gone, Galen, and I can’t bring him back. Just like you can’t bring back Emma, or undo everything that’s happened between you and Kate these last couple of weeks. The best we can hope for is that the universe doesn’t try to kick us while we’re down.”

She defiantly drank down the rest of her drink and began to make another. “And if I choose to numb some of the pain a little in the process, that’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Of course that’s your choice,” Galen said gently, wishing he’d been able to show some of the same consideration towards Kate instead of shutting her out. “I’m not telling you what to do Tash… hell, you think I have the answers? Am I in any position to be giving out advice? But I couldn’t cope with losing my daughter and now… well now I’ve lost everything that ever mattered to me. I’m living in the same goddamn motel that I was two years ago when I first came to this city. You think I want the same to happen to you?”

Tash laughed, completely missing Galen’s point. “Don’t worry; I won’t be winding up in some crappy motel. I have lots of money, remember? Lots. You’d think if anything would bind the White Hats together it’d be the promise of vast resources.” She sighed, feeling the bitterness well up again. With an effort of will she pushed it aside.

“But you don’t have to put up with crappy accommodation either. You could stay here, or I could pay for a really fancy hotel. Yeah, would you like to stay at the Hilton, Galen?”

“I don’t want your money Tash,” said Galen in frustration at her flippant tone. “And you might be too soused up to remember this but myself and lots of other people managed to work together just as effectively when we hadn’t two pennies to rub together. Victor’s money didn’t make the White Hats a force to be reckoned with, we did that on our own.”

“I am not soused, thank you very much,” Tash answered acerbically and quite soberly. “And yes, I know we used to achieve good results even with limited funds. It’s just… well, I just hate to see it all falling apart, and I’m worried that’s what’s happening. It’s falling apart and it never really had a chance to begin. Look at what happened since we started getting together. Sure, we’ve done lots of training together, and we’ve all learned new, useful skills. But when it comes to pulling together as a team? Alessa disappears and we search high and low for her with no success. Then there’s a breakthrough and an expedition is sent to rescue her. But is it us who go? No, I find out at the last minute, when it’s too late to help. The last few months have been endless repetitions of that, Galen.”

She paused in her diatribe and shook her head. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m feeling frustrated and pissed off. Maybe it’d be better if you just went and did whatever it is you want to do. I might go to the training room for a while and work off this irritation.”

“Yeah I’m really missing sitting in my motel room on my own listening to the couple next door testing their bedsprings,” said Galen with a roll of his eyes.

He could understand where Tash was coming from; she had put so much effort into making this thing with the White Hats work that it must be disheartening to see people turning their backs on it. But her anger seemed disproportionate and it just wasn’t like Tash to wallow in self-pity. Still he could tell she would rather go work off some of that anger and he guessed that was his cue to leave.

He walked with Tash to the door, but stopped in the hallway as she turned to the training room. “It’s not a crime to ask for help Tash,” Galen said quietly, his foot shuffling awkwardly on the top step. “If you need me, you call me any time, you know that right?”

She remembered saying almost precisely the same words to Galen not long ago, and the irony of him saying them now wasn’t lost on Tash. She smiled grimly in response. “Thanks, Galen. I know you understand how hard it can be to really open up and tell someone exactly how you feel, but I will remember what you’ve said. I promise.”

Those That Lie in Wait

Meredith Bell's picture

Thursday, 15 March 2007 – 11:30am - East Los Angeles City Park

Reintroducing Gary Oldman as Dragomir Der Drahtzieher

“If you go through with this I want no part of it,” said Gemmel firmly, shaking his hands in determination as he paced the small grove where they had gathered – secluded from the rest of the park. Aimes had really lost it this time, bringing in this schlep from HQ. His opinion of the eminent recruiter to The Ministry had far from improved upon a closer acquaintance either.

He glared at the man who stood so quietly in his place, his dark Romanian features silently smouldering in the late morning sunlight. Dragomir Der Drahtzieher was a demon with more than a reputation; his abilities in mind manipulation were legendary throughout The Ministry of Magic, as was the fate of a large proportion of his ‘subjects’.

Carmichael puffed on a cigar, billowing the sour scented smoke into the air. “All I want is to nudge her in the right direction,” he said calmly. “This way we make sure that she’s heading down the ‘right’ path – our path. Don’t worry, Gemmel old boy! She’s a strong girl, she can take it.”

“She’s not looking so strong to me,” announced Gemmel in annoyance. For days he’d observed subject 1312 slip into a deeper and darker despair. The death of her daughter, the decimation of her marriage – everything might be progressing as Seer Longstein’s prophesies had indicated but in his opinion ‘a nudge in the right direction’ right now would probably send her off the deep end.

“What’s this, Michael?” Aimes laughed jovially, “Getting soft in your old age? Developing a bit of a tender spot for our dear Ms. Eldridge are you?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Gemmel said defensively, digging his hands into his pockets. In truth he did feel slightly sorry for her; watching someone’s life crumble into nothing wasn’t exactly his idea of advancing their movement. “I’m merely voicing a concern, if Drago here pushes her too far… I don’t want to have to explain another dead body to Zimmerman. You know how fond he is of this one.”

“Then we shan’t fail, shall we Dragomir ol’ boy?”

The darkly featured man stepped forward, his face a mask of indifference. “Indeed we shall not.”

“Good,” said Aimes with a grin, “Then we should make a move gentlemen, I think our time may soon be upon us.”

An Unfortunate Encounter

Meredith Bell's picture

Thursday, 15 March 2007 – 11:44am - East Los Angeles, not far from Bibliophile

Daye had dropped the van off at the shop for the last time, and set off to walk the few blocks from there to the apartment. She was riding high after the stand she'd taken at the Council House. Despite Delancre's blustering and Alicia's pleading, Amanda Blaise, for the first time in her life, was truly free. She was no longer bound by the archaic ideals and customs of the Watchers' Council. She was growing in power, and revelling in the feeling of finally being her own woman.

As Amanda walked down the street, aware of every appreciative glance from the men she passed, and even occasionally from the women, Daye mused on her new plans. She was going to have a chat with Bob, probably that afternoon, and make arrangements for him to get the word out about her new business. Before long, undoubtedly, she'd have clients coming out her ears, clients with much cash and few scruples. Those kinds of clients paid very well and that was what she was interested in now.

Daye was tired of living modestly when, with her abilities, she could make real money and indulge herself.

*First things first,* Daye thought to herself, *I should check on the progress with the decorating. I have to have everything ready to go in two days.* Swinging around the corner, Daye smiled to herself, lost in her thoughts.

Kate had discovered a long time ago that the only way to keep on living when your whole world began crumbling in around you was to focus on the little things. The little things helped distract you from everything else that was happening, from the aching in your heart to the tireless questions that roamed inside your head threatening to drive you mad. Somehow, it helped you carry on living, made it easier to keep on breathing and stopped you from just suddenly shutting down and slipping into that deep, comforting darkness.

The sound of her shoes hitting the pavement kept Kate moving along, putting one foot in front of the other. She didn’t even know what she was doing, half blind to her destination as she just carried on walking. All she knew was that she had to get out of that house before she drove herself up the walls. Everything that she saw reminded her of what she’d lost, the entire house was brimming with inescapable, unbearable memories of her dead daughter and estranged husband.

“OH!” Kate gasped as she rounded the corner and almost collided with another woman who had been walking pretty briskly.

“Uh, Daye!” said Kate in surprise at seeing her old friend. A startled frown suddenly clouded her features as her eyes took in the rather outrageous outfit she was wearing; tight black leather pants and a bustier top that ‘oomphed’ her breasts up and out for ALL to see.

“Er… woah!” she said, more than a little shocked to see the usually demure Amanda dressed in such a manner, “Is it Halloween already?”

Daye stared at Kate wordlessly, not really hearing the other woman's comment. Coming upon her friend brought vividly to mind the night she'd spent with the woman's husband. Daye's mind replayed the deliciously wicked things they'd done to and for one another as she stared into Kate's pale face. She felt a thrill at the realisation that she'd been party to the pain etched on Kate's features.

Smiling sweetly, Daye said. "Oh, Kate, I didn't see you there. My mind was somewhere else."

“Yes…” said Kate unsteadily; her mind was kind of somewhere else too, like wondering how the hell Daye had managed to shoe-horn herself into her outfit. It was embarrassing actually, the way people kept turning to look at them, their eyes leering at her friend like they were mentally undressing her right there in the street, well what was left to undress of her anyway.

Kate forced those thoughts out of her mind with a tired sigh. She hadn’t slept much last night what with the talk she and Galen had had and the fact that he had moved out. Sometimes it felt like she was walking around in a nightmare and was just waiting to wake up at any minute.

“Well I… it’s nice to catch up with you anyway,” said Kate, forcing a weak smile on to her face. “I feel kind of out of it at the moment, cooped up in that house by myself…” She felt her eyes wander along with her train of thought as she remembered the terrible events that had occurred over the past week, her argument with Galen, her drunken night with Damen…

“Galen moved out yesterday,” she admitted with an awkward shrug, trying hard to mask her feelings, “We both need some space.”

Daye had to control the urge to crow triumphantly. *So, he's left her,* she thought. *Good for you, Galen. You obviously can do better than Little Orphan Annie here... and recently did.* Schooling her features, but not bothering to disguise her feelings, Daye looked sympathetic.

"Oh, you poor, poor thing.” She took hold of Kate's arm, starting to lead her through the crowd. "Come with me. We can talk at the apartment."

Kate frowned a little at the strange sense of insincerity that sounded faintly through Daye’s words, but then it seemed to vanish as Daye folded her arm around hers and they walked through the streets.

“Apartment?” asked Kate after a moment had passed. She looked around for a moment as though suddenly conscious of her surroundings. They weren’t very far from Bibliophile and Kate knew that Daye’s old home used to be not far from where they stood. “Your old apartment? I thought you had it subleased?”

Daye nodded. "I did, but... well, I've had a change of heart. I'm going to make use of the property, because... I've quit The Bibliophile... and the Council too. I'm going into business for myself."

Kate’s mouth hung open and her arm slipped from Daye’s as she stood still in the street with shock. “You quit? The Council? Bibliophile?” She knew she was just repeating what Daye had already said but she just couldn’t believe it. The Bibliophile was Daye’s brainchild; she’d rebuilt it entirely, put so much of her blood, sweat and tears into cultivating it into a profitable business. And the Watchers’ Council? She was leaving them as well?

“Bu- but, why?” she spluttered incredulously, “I mean, I know you’ve been a little… urm, well, discontent with the way the Council run things from time to time but… And Bibliophile? I know how much you love that place? I don’t understand…”

Daye shrugged. "I'm tired of being a good little lap dog for the Council. I don't agree with them or their politics and I've had enough. I'm ready to stretch my wings." Daye half smiled, "The Bib, no matter how much work I've put into it, well, it's there's isn't it? I can't very well get out from under their thumb if I stay there."

"Besides, I'm ready to do something... different," Daye continued. "That's why I'm setting up shop in the apartment. So… come on." Daye grabbed Kate by the arm and led her up to the apartment building.

Kate shook her head dizzily as Daye dragged her into the building and up the stairs, pausing at the door as she stooped to unlock it and led the way inside.

“I just don’t understand,” said Kate again uneasily, suddenly backing up against a wall as a burly looking man with his shirt off headed towards the door carrying a large packing box. Kate watched him leave though the sound of other people moving things around filled the apartment. “What’s going on? Are you moving in here or something, and what do you mean ‘setting up shop’ ?”

Daye held up a hand to hold off Kate's questioning. She quickly dispatched the workmen, asking them to return later that day. Once they were gone Daye led Kate into the room, full of boxes and plastic covered furniture.

"Sorry, I didn't think it would be appropriate to talk in front of them," Daye finally replied. "Feel free to try and find a place to park it." Daye settled herself down on the thick, dark fur rug before the fireplace.

"As for the rest," she began, "no, I'm not moving back in here. I don't plan on it anyway. I'm opening a... business, of sorts, and I'll be working out of the apartment. Providing spells, charms, and the like, to paying customers."

Kate sat herself down on a new-looking armchair, still wrapped in its packing plastic, which crackled noisily whenever she made the slightest movement. “You’re not serious?” she asked in disbelief, “You know as well as I do the risks involved in trying to profit from the Craft! And what about the kind of ‘people’ that come looking for such services? You don’t want to start inviting them into your circle, it could be dangerous!”

Daye frowned. *Leave it to you, Miss Priss, to go and try and rain on a girl's parade. I should've left you wandering out in the street. You're not half as much fun as that man you drove off.*

"I know that there are dangers, but really, what else can I do?" Daye replied curtly. "I want to be independent of the Council, but I don't want to be destitute. I won't live off Drew... and I like the idea of using my magic to do something real. I'm tired of just playing around. We've got power, so why should we be bound by arbitrary rules?"

Kate’s eyes grew wider in time with her astonishment and she couldn’t help rising to her feet in indignation, not just at Daye’s words but at her blasé tone.

“We do something real with our magic every day Amanda!” she stated in surprise, “We help people all the time, when was that not enough? And as for those ‘arbitrary rules’, we stand by our rede because it beholds us to do so as responsible wiccans, because breaking those rules has consequences – everything that we send out is destined to come back times three and that includes your so-called witchcraft by mail order.”

Sensing Daye’s irritation at her lecture Kate settled herself back down in the chair with a sigh. “I just don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into here.”

Daye felt her own ire rise at Kate's little speech. "Excuse me, Miss High and Mighty, but it's my life and I'll do with it as I please," Daye snapped. "I've followed the rules forever, and frankly, I'm tired of it. Sometimes you have to get your hands dirty, ok? We're all always so busy worrying over the consequences that we can't seem to get anywhere! I'm not going to sit by while evil is allowed free rein and be constrained by some rigid morality structure. I'm beyond those simple ideas."

Daye drew on the dark power she now had within, letting it fill her. It came so easily now. Her eyes darkened, and her mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "The Goddess has many forms. Not all of them are sweetness and light, Kate."

Kate’s eyes narrowed slightly in scrutiny as she felt the wave of darkness flicker through her friend, her eyes darkening and her face ever so slightly distorting with the corruption of those powers that she was drawing on. Kate could feel them as plainly as if someone had suddenly flicked a light switch.

“I know that, Amanda,” she returned, keeping her voice steady and calm even though she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear in the pit of her stomach. “I know that fact more than you can realise, which is why I’m warning you not to go down this path. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself involved in. You might think that you’re the one in control, but I’m telling you now, you’re not.”

Daye laughed harshly. "You're telling me?" she repeated. "That's rich. Look, Kate, you're in no position to tell anyone anything. Not right now. You come around acting like The Good Goddess herself, but the taint of your actions is like a film over everything you say and do. You're weak, and pathetic, and I'm not going to be the same. The bravest thing you've done in ages was taking a lover, and look how that turned out!"

Kate was taken aback by Daye’s vicious words and for a moment she just stared at her, her mouth open and silently struggling to form a sentence. She could feel herself beginning to tremble inside despite the fact that she was trying so hard to be strong.

“You… you kn-know?” she asked in complete confusion, her heart racing. *Did Tash tell her? Nikolai?* “H-how? How do you know about that?” she demanded, finally managing to chase the hesitancy out of her voice.

Daye's smile was mean. "Who could have told me, huh, Kate? That's the real question you're struggling with now. Who of your friends betrayed your trust? Which one was it?" Daye stood slowly, and stretched lazily. "Who would go and tell me something so intimate about you? After all, I'm only your closest friend in the world... so who would feel that I could be trusted with such a nasty secret?"

Daye came over to Kate and bent down, her mouth beside the other woman's ear. "It was Galen," she whispered, before straightening up and staring triumphantly down at the stricken woman.

Kate drew in a sharp breath as Daye stood back, her cold eyes gleaming with a look of victory. “Why would he tell you?” she asked quietly, her voice breathy and uncertain.

Daye laughed throatily. "I met him the other night... in the park... after you and Tash let him find out by accident," Daye replied. "The poor man was so distraught... so vulnerable. He needed someone to talk to and I was a sympathetic ear." Daye leered at Kate. "We talked all night. Your husband is quite the conversationalist."

Slowly Kate shook her head; her own eyes shining with unshed tears. “No…” she said determinedly, sensing the underlying intention of Daye’s words. “You wouldn’t,” Kate implored rather than stated, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

Her heart was beating so furiously now she thought it would burst out of her chest. Her eyes were locked on Daye’s, desperate for her to back down from her insinuations; she didn’t care if it was all just some cruel joke so long as it wasn’t true!

“Why?” she asked finally, her voice hollow with confusion.

"Why?" Daye echoed coldly. "Why? Why what, Kate? Why did your husband spend the night here with me... in this apartment, our bodies melding and battling in the darkness? Or why did I, your best friend, seduce your terribly hurt and distraught husband into doing so? Because that's what I did, you know."

Daye ran her hands down her darkly clad body, smiling in delicious recollection. "I saw how vulnerable he was. I saw the desperation in him, and I knew, with the right words, I knew I could have him. So I did."

Kate felt physically sick and clutched at her stomach as a sudden wave of nausea washed over her forcing her to grab hold of the back of the chair she had been sitting on only moments ago. Her legs felt like jelly, practically unable to hold herself upright any longer.

“But… he, he’s my husband,” she moaned pitifully, barely able to believe any of this, not just Daye’s declaration but the absolute delight that she seemed to take in hurting her. “I love him. You know how much he means to me!”

Daye laughed cruelly in response to Kate's torment. *This is almost as good as the sex.*

"So?" Daye replied. "What the hell do I care? I fucked your husband... right here on that sofa... because I could... and I wanted to."

"See, the thing is, Kate, I'm through worrying about everyone else," Daye stood defiantly in the middle of the room, feeding off the pain and sorrow echoing from Kate. She felt elated. "From now on, I'm going to do what I want, when I want to."

Kate felt hot tears roll down her cheeks but at Daye’s triumphant tone she wiped them away roughly, sucking in all that pain and holding it down… for now. She turned her head up to face her, this woman who had once been her best friend, whom she had felt she could trust more than anyone. The woman who had seduced her husband just because she felt like it, because she wanted to feel powerful.

Kate could feel her anger beginning to burn beneath the surface of her skin, slowly she walked towards her ‘friend’ until there was no more than a few feet between them. Her eyes burned into Daye’s with absolute hatred. She had nothing left to lose anymore; her child was dead, her husband had left her and this… this shadow of a woman she once knew - thought she knew - was gloating about her conquests.

In one sudden movement Kate drew a hard slap across Daye’s face.

“Then you should be prepared to suffer the consequences,” Kate spat out with controlled vehemence as Daye pushed her hair back from her face and held her burning cheek.

Daye returned Kate’s steely gaze before raising her own hand to strike the woman back, but she’d left the moment too long and Kate sensed her intention, grabbing her wrist firmly before she made contact.

Kate kept her eyes on Daye, fixing her with a look of pure hatred. Slowly, she glanced momentarily at the hand that she still gripped tightly, noticing for the first time the partially healed knife mark that ran across Daye’s palm. “What have you been doing Daye? A little summoning spell perhaps?” Kate asked warily, not really expecting an answer. It wasn’t the only kind of spell that required blood but certainly one of the most common, except for…

Kate narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Or have you found yourself a little acolyte… some clueless follower to feed that over-inflated ego of yours. Must make you feel very powerful.”

Daye's eyes flashed hotly at Kate's vicious words. That she had guessed about Cole was completely unacceptable. "I am very powerful," Daye retorted. "If you want to see just how powerful, pretty Kate, then go ahead and piss me off. Right now I just pity you, but I could be persuaded to get angry quite easily."

Kate’ heart was beating furiously as she let go of Daye’s wrist but maintained her close proximity. She could feel the dark energies flowing from the other woman but at the same time she couldn’t help but feel a spark of triumph that her words had managed to ignite such a response. If she didn’t know any better she’d say the witch was scared, or unnerved at the very least.

Kate took a step forwards, leaning in so that her face was barely inches from Daye’s and held her finger up at her warningly.

“Watch out Amanda,” she said steadily, “You might think you know what you’re getting into but you haven’t got a clue. I don’t care how many slutty outfits you wear you’ll always be second best in this city so long as I’m here. I was one of the Great Thirteen of the Inner Circle at The Coven of Sindell, one of the most powerful covens of witches in the entire world, while you… you were nothing more than a jumped up librarian.”

Kate raised her head in a gesture of superiority, looking down her nose in disgust at Daye. “Not that much has changed. I can see you now, poring over your books on black magic, thinking naively that they will imbue you with the power of the ages. That is so like a Watcher to think a few dusty old books hold the key to everything, to think that reading a few volumes of ancient text will give you an edge on the competition.”

Kate smiled mockingly, maintaining her close proximity. “Well I’m telling you now, you’re still a rank amateur and I’ve seen dozens of witches like you, ambitious, arrogant, conceited… you’re nothing special Daye, not at all.” Kate pressed her finger hard into Daye’s shoulder, “And unless you want to take me on you’ll stay out of my way in the future because I promise you, fuck with me again and you won’t know what’s hit you.”

Daye stared incredulously at Kate for a moment, and then she threw back her head and started to laugh. She laughed hard and long.

Finally, she settled down, out of breath. "Kate," Daye said softly, "you couldn't even save your own daughter... or manage to keep your husband from wandering. Where has all your power taken you? Where was the great Sindell witch when Emma lay dying in that cold hospital room? You may have power inside of you, but you lack the conviction to use it."

Daye walked away from Kate, turning her back.

Kate had to take several deep breaths to steady herself at Daye’s words, she was burning with anger, with sadness… every part of her body was tingling with excessive emotion like she would burst at any moment. She wanted more than anything to give her a show of what REAL power was like but that would do nothing more than stoop to her level. Instead she turned towards the door, lingering in the threshold for just a moment, her eyes burning into Daye’s back.

“Try me,” she said simply before slamming the door shut behind her.

Dragomir Casts a Spell on Kate

Meredith Bell's picture

Thursday, 15 March 2007 – Just After Midday

The sound of the door to Daye’s apartment slamming shut rang loudly in Kate’s ears as she ran down the stairs, her legs feeling wobbly and weak at every step.

Bursting out into the street Kate continued to run as the tears that she had forced herself to hold in streamed down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Still she ran as fast as she could, not even sure where she was heading and not really caring, just running to get away from that place, from Daye… as far away as possible.

A few cars blared their horns, wheels screeching to a stop as they had to brake to avoid hitting the distracted redheaded woman as she ran across the street without even checking to see if the way was clear. A few obscenities were shouted, fists waved and then as the vehicles revved up their engines and drove away the near-miss was simply forgotten as though it had never happened.

The world moved on.

Kate carried on running.

The soles of her flat pumps beat unrelentingly against the concrete pavement as she entered the park across the street. The fluid pleated fabric of her summer dress swirled around her thighs, her long red hair streaming out behind her as she ran.

The world passed by in a blur of muted colours and empty sounds.

When Kate could no longer take another step, she came to a stop. Her lungs were stinging painfully like they were about to burst, her limbs aching and sore, feeling like lead weights attached to her body. Breathless, Kate leaned against the trunk of an old oak tree, her breast heaving with every lungful of air that she inhaled.

Her body trembled almost uncontrollably as she leaned back against the tree, the shadow of early spring leaves dancing across her face in the gentle breeze. Kate closed her eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks sadly before she wiped them away angrily, her hands shaking as she caught a glimpse of her wedding ring. Kate’s eyes gazed upon the two rings as they glinted in the sunlight mockingly, her face crumbled sadly with a mixture of hurt and betrayal and fresh tears spilled from her eyes.

*Daye and Galen,* she thought sadly, closing her eyes again as she sank into the overgrown grass at the base of the tree, feeling the blades tickle against her bare legs.

“He needed someone to talk to and I was a sympathetic ear… We talked all night. Your husband is quite the conversationalist… …What the hell do I care? I fucked your husband... right here on that sofa... because I could... and I wanted to."

As Daye’s gleeful words filled her ears Kate cried out in pain, her heart aching in despair as she pulled at the rings on her finger, desperate to remove them and the sham of a marriage that they represented to her now. Galen had asked her how could she be so blind to what was staring her directly in the face and now she knew just what he had meant by that; he’d got his own back by sleeping with Daye and she hadn’t even realised it! She tugged vainly at the solid metal until her fingers were red but they wouldn’t budge.

Overwhelmed with sorrow Kate buried her face in her hands and wept.

Dragomir had been watching the woman ever since she entered the park. Her overwhelming sorrow and despair sang loudly to him, drowning out all other noise. Slowly and deliberately he moved through the sunny picturesque scene to where she sat, slumped beneath the branches of an old oak, her frail looking body trembling as she cried.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

Kate looked up, surprised to hear the kind male voice and the gentle hand on her shoulder that soon followed. Through her teary eyes she could make out the blurry shape of a rather tall, darkly handsome man with a moustache etched above his top lip. He had a very Old World feel about him with his high collared shirt and well-tailored jacket that hung just past his knees. He was also wearing a pair of rather strange looking blue tinted sunglasses, removing them to reveal the most startling pair of eyes Kate had ever seen… so dark and intense.

Dragomir gazed down at the woman, his profile blocking out the sun behind him. He was an expert at ‘consoling’ those who felt absolutely hopeless, feeding off that sorrow, preying on their fears. He’d been doing such ‘work’ for years, but never had he been assigned such an easy mark as the young woman who sat before him now.

“You look like you could use a friend,” he said gently, his smooth Romanian accent rippling off his tongue like liquid velvet, “Can I call someone for you?”

Kate felt like there was something incredibly strange about this man - something other than his accent, his elaborate clothing and devilish good looks that was. He had an air about him that almost took her breath away, and then there were his eyes… Suddenly she was filled with grief, unable to think of anything other than the absolute betrayal that she’d just endured, Daye’s gloating face floated before her, her laughing smile, the cruel gleam in her eyes…

Kate looked away dismally, her own eyes becoming clouded and empty. A friend? She would give everything she had left in the world for one true friend right now. Slowly she shook her head.

“No,” she said finally, “there’s nobody you can call.”

“Are you sure?” Dragomir asked, his words soft and filled with kindness, “Surely there must be someone you can turn to?”

Kate thought for a moment of all the people that meant anything to her, her friends, her family. She’d always thought she had both in plentiful supply until now. Jack was on the other side of the country – almost as far away from her as he could be and as for Galen… he was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. He’d slept with her best friend, hurt her even though he knew how much that betrayal hurt himself.

As for Daye… Kate closed her eyes and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. What had she ever done to hurt Daye? All she had ever done was help her! Hadn’t she been the one to save her from the ghostly ancestors in Ireland? Hadn’t she been the one who’d gone out of her way to protect her from Ryan and Mother Mariah – even putting her own life at risk and not just that but the life of her baby. Who had spent hours talking to Drew, convincing him to give Daye another chance?

It seemed like all she ever did was save Daye’s life and what did she get in return for all her hard work? Daye had taken the man she loved, seduced him, slept with him and what for? Just because she felt like it? Because she was bored? She had ruined her life, her marriage, just for something to do?

Kate cried out loud, her tears flowing heavily, splashing on the soft material of her dress. Though she couldn’t see it, Dragomir smiled, his hand reaching across to gently brush her hair from her forehead, his thumb grazing the side of her temple lightly as he let his natural abilities feed her feelings of despondency.

*Tash…* thought Kate suddenly, *What about Tash? Good, caring, reliable Tash.* Ordinarily Kate would have turned to her in a heartbeat except…

Feeling the stranger’s hand brush against the side of her face, returning to rest on her bare shoulder, his fingers tightening over her flesh, she was suddenly hit with a terrible pang of fear. What if everyone was sick and tired of putting up with her continual moaning? Wasn’t that the impression she’d gotten from Tash the last time she had talked to her? Her life just seemed to leap from one crisis to the next; wasn’t it true that everyone was tired of listening to the endless stream of tragic events that seemed to happen to her?

And as for Nikolai… his cool demeanour and sarcastic comments made it clear what he thought of her. *What has happened to all my friends?* she thought dismally. Back in England she had lots of friends, friends who wouldn’t have betrayed her, friends who wouldn’t have turned their backs on her or treated her so badly.

*Why did I ever come back to this place?* sobbed Kate, miserably. Never had she felt so totally alone in all her life.

Quietly she shook her head again.

Dragomir smiled again gently, his hand smoothing across the graceful slope of Kate’s throat and shoulders, his long fingernails scraping the surface of her skin ever so slightly. Easy pickings… that’s what she was… too easy…

“In my opinion, friendships are highly overrated,” he said with another gentle smile, kneeling by her side and squeezing her hand in his own. “People pretend to be your friends until they get what they want from you.” He lay a finger beneath her chin, using it to turn her head to face him. When he had her attention he cupped her cheek gently, causing Kate to shiver at his icy touch.

“You’ve risked your life for them,” he continued, stroking her cheek comfortingly, “given everything and all they do is take. But where are your friends when you need them? Where are they now?”

“I… I don’t know…” answered Kate painfully, her body still trembling from the power of her sobs. “They… they try, they do, they help… Tash… Koyla… …Daye…” at the mention of the last Kate buried her face in her hands and began to weep again.

“Shhhh,” soothed Dragomir, stroking the back of her head as she cried. “They don’t care about you, that’s the truth. It’s all an act, they only pretend to be your friends to get what they want.”

His gaze intensified as he took hold of the flame of doubt he had ignited within her. “Isn’t it true that they only ever come to you in an emergency? Is that the mark of friendship? To allow you to suffer like this and do nothing to help?”

Kate shook her head desolately, looking up at the stranger with sad, tearful eyes. “I feel so alone…” she said quietly, her voice shaking from the force of her emotions. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I just feel like there’s no one I can turn to. No one who will understand.”

Dragomir smiled again kindly. “You are a kind woman, I can tell. You don’t deserve to be treated like this. Surely you must have someone who loves you? Beautiful woman like you? You must have a sweetheart somewhere who would walk through fire for you?”

“I used to,” Kate answered, feeling despair clawing at her insides. What had she done to deserve all this?

“I see…” said Dragomir, reaching out with his unique powers, dragging those feelings of anguish and unhappiness that were so plainly visible in her to the forefront, letting them flood her heart and mind till she could feel nothing else. “You gave your heart to him and he turned away from you too, betrayed you, hurt you… just like everyone else.”

Kate’s head lowered sadly and tears rolled down her cheeks again, dripping off the end of her chin. “I… I hurt him… he, he was so… so upset… I can’t blame him…”

“Why not?” said Dragomir fiercely, slowly reaching into his jacket pocket and withdrawing a handkerchief, reaching out to dry her eyes. “Why should you not blame him when he deceives you? When he calls you a whore and all the while he’s no better.”

“Dear girl,” he intoned steadily, gazing into her deep blue eyes, “these are no friends of yours. You are alone but that’s nothing to fear, we are all alone in this life. It’s only when the rest of the world turns its back on you that we come to realise the truth, there is only one person you can rely upon and that is yourself. Do you understand?”

Kate stared back into the man’s eyes, they were so dark… deep… so strangely compelling. It was like he was communicating a world of emotion with just those eyes, whispering words that could never be spoken. “The world has turned its back on me?”

Drago nodded in agreement. “That’s right, remember that. You’re alone, no one is going to come and save you from the horrible things that happen anymore. You have to deal with them yourself.”

Tears rolled down Kate’s cheeks again and she sniffled a little, her face crumbling in defeat. “I’m alone.”

“Always alone. Without love, without friends… despair Kate… feel the despair like a poison flowing through your veins. Pain is your only companion.”

Kate nodded again, feeling the man’s icy cold hands brush against her face as he dried her eyes again.

“Now, don’t cry my dear, trust in yourself and you will know what needs to be done, what you must do. It is the only way and you know it, surrender yourself to darkness and feel alive again.”

“What if I don’t want to?” she asked forlornly, looking up into his eyes again. “What if I don’t want to live anymore?”

For the first time Dragomir looked slightly unnerved, casting a worried glance over his shoulder momentarily before turning back to Kate. “No. I don’t want you to do that,” he instructed firmly, holding onto the woman tightly. “Do you hear me? Now come on,” he took hold of both her hands in his and helped pull her back to her feet.

Suddenly Kate doubled over; moaning in distress and ripping her hands free from the stranger’s as she clutched her abdomen in pain.

“Are you feeling quite all right?” Dragomir asked nervously, taking a step back. *What’s happening to her? This isn’t part of the plan…*

“No…” whimpered Kate in pain, sinking back to the ground as a terrible spasm stabbed repeatedly in her abdomen.

“You’re… you’re in pain,” Dragomir stated emotionlessly, just watching as Kate continued to cry out wretchedly. *This is none of my doing… this is none of my doing…*

“It hurts,” she sobbed, struggling to breathe properly.

“I should be going,” he announced hesitantly, feeling a flare of anger rise up inside him. Those imbeciles Gemmel and Carmichael hadn’t said anything about this… what if he’d pushed her too far? Quickly, Dragomir folded up his handkerchief into his pocket and headed off in the opposite direction.

“Please don’t leave me,” Kate cried out as she saw the man run off. “No…” Kate begged after his retreating form, “Please… get help…”

As the pain grew worse Kate forced herself up, stumbling to her feet and feeling a stickiness between her legs. When she looked down she was covered in bright red blood. “Oh!” she cried out in shock at the sheer amount of blood, all soaked into the patterned fabric of her dress.

Kate gasped in pain again, her eyes screwing up tightly as she clutched at her abdomen, staggering unsteadily.

“Help…” she cried out weakly, holding one hand against her perspiring forehead and smearing blood across her face, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She felt so weak and light-headed as she forced herself to move and get help. Before she knew it her legs had given way and she was falling, the ground rushing up to meet her as she landed with a dull thud.

****

Again, nothing. Darian had been out since sunrise, quickly combing the city in a blind attempt to find Cole. He had to find him. Adriana’s run in with the boy had only confirmed the dark suspicions that Tash had raised several nights before; Cole had gone off the deep end, and was using his talents for sinister doings - he had to be stopped.

*Saved,* he corrected himself, dismally, as he planned to call it quits for now. But just as he was preparing to return home, Darian’s acute mystical senses picked up a flow of powerful magic. *Cole?*

The hope was enough to force the fae into a quick run, as he followed the invisible trail down the roads and into a park, where a panicking group of people were gathering around a mysterious figure.

“Cole! Cole!” he cried out, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. To his dismay, the willowy female limbs and long red hair of the woman at the centre of all the mayhem destroyed all hopes that it was Cole. No it wasn’t the boy who had been emanating the powerful magical trace it was… “Kate!?”

Kate was in so much pain right now she could hardly think at all. Several people were holding her in a sitting position and she was shaking from the cold despite the fact that someone had wrapped a thick coat around her shoulders.

“Darian?” Kate called out weakly as she saw him push through the crowds, a worried look in his purple eyes. Someone stepped aside to let him closer but before she could say anything else she cried out again in agony.

“It’s okay Dear,” intoned an elderly woman, lending a hand for Kate to squeeze, “the ambulance will be here any time now, you just try and relax.”

“Oh God Kate, what happened?” Darian asked, concerned seeing the blood marks on the woman’s clothing. “Did something or someone do this to you?” If she had been assaulted, whatever it was that took down a powerful witch could potentially still be around, meaning that all the people were in similar danger. He waited anxiously for a response, but the pain had taken too strong a hold of her, and it seemed that she could no longer hear his words.

“Hey who are you?” a man called from behind, grabbing a hold of Darian’s shoulder.

“I’m her… cousin, okay!?” he snapped back, making the man take a few steps back. “Did someone call an ambulance?”

“It’s on its way honey,” the elderly woman piped up, giving Darian some more room to tend to his wounded cousin.

Darian turned his attention back to Kate. Her body was trembling out of control, and her eyes were beginning to flutter out of consciousness. “Shhhh,” he soothed, as he reached down into himself, tapping into ancient faery magic. Softly, he began to hum, allowing the enchantment to flow through the air, carried on the wings of his voice. Gently, it wrapped its way around Kate’s form, drawing her mind into the euphoria of the spell.

Slowly, the scene around her began to vanish, in its place, a serene grove appearing. The people disappeared as well, all save for Darian. “It’s okay Kate, it won’t hurt anymore.”

Kate smiled weakly, her breathing slowing gradually as the harsh, aching pain seemed to subside along with some of her panic. She didn’t know what he’d just done but she was infinitely grateful.

“Don’t leave me,” she begged exhaustedly, taking hold of Darian’s hand and wrapping her fingers around his as she felt that earlier pang of loneliness sweep through her body in place of the pain.

“I’m a mess…” she said, her voice obviously distressed. “I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

“Help is coming,” he whispered, his voice supernaturally soothing. “And until then, I’m right here with you.”

It only took a few moments before flashing red lights heralded the arrival of the ambulance.

“People, clear out please!” the paramedics shouted, as they rushed to where Kate and Darian were sitting on the ground. From inside the confines of the spell’s haven, Kate could hear the faint call of the real world.

“Don’t pay attention to that,” Darian said, as he too could hear the call of reality. “Close your eyes and rest.”

Pulling himself from the illusion, he quickly informed the paramedics of what he knew (which wasn’t much), after which he climbed into the front seat of the ambulance as they loaded Kate into the back and sped off in the direction of LA County Hospital.

Darian Comforts Kate

Meredith Bell's picture

***Thursday, 15 March 2007 – 3:00pm – Los Angeles County Hospital***

Doctor Helen Ruben straightened out her white lab coat and brushed a long lock of mousy brown hair out of her face as she pushed the door to the waiting room open. The young man inside had been waiting patiently for a while now, ever since his cousin had been rushed in as an emergency. She frowned uncomfortably as she cleared her throat to gain his attention; it was always difficult giving news like this, no matter how many times she did it.

“Mr… Gray?” she asked uneasily, checking her notes before allowing her eyes to meet the boy’s in a sympathetic gesture. As he rose to his feet she smiled gently and held out her hand for him to shake.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting so long, my name is Doctor Helen Ruben, I performed the preliminary examination of your… cousin, Catherine. I’m afraid I have some bad news.” She could see a glimmer of worry flash through the young man’s purple coloured eyes and grimaced a little in response. “I’m afraid Catherine’s had a miscarriage.”

“A miscarriage?!” Darian gasped, in shock. “I… I… I didn’t even know she was….” He cut the words short, as the realisation of what was happening dawned on him. “Oh God…”

Darian’s heart sank as he thought of what Kate must be going through; her daughter had passed away only weeks before and now she had lost another? “May I go see her?” he asked anxiously, gazing towards the door to her room.

“Of course,” said the young doctor sympathetically, “but Catherine’s been through a lot in the past few hours. Her miscarriage was incomplete so we had to perform a procedure to remove the remaining foetal tissue. It’s nothing to be worried about but it can be quite upsetting. We also gave Catherine a mild sedative to calm her down a bit, so she may be a little drowsy, and obviously we’ve had a talk with her and explained what happened so… well she was quite upset as you can imagine. What I mean is, just be gentle with her okay?”

The doctor walked with Darian as she led him to a private room and opened the door, stopping him before she let him inside. “Remember what I said, I don’t want you upsetting her and she needs her rest, so no more than ten minutes okay?”

Kate was lying with her back to the door when she heard hushed voices in the corridor outside. Her eyelids dipped slightly as she recognised the female doctor’s authoritative tone and also that of Darian. She really didn’t feel like talking to anyone right now, all she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep, but she’d been trying that for the past thirty minutes without much luck. The crippling agony she felt inside was terrifying, crushing all the air out of her lungs making even the act of breathing one which she had to concentrate to perform.

Darian pushed the door open quietly as he slipped into the room, silently observing Kate’s curled up form as she lay on the bed. *Why has this happened to her? For all the good that the White Hats did, The Powers That Be sure had a funny way of repaying them.*

“I’m so sorry,” he said simply. Despite the vast amount of years he had spent on the Earth, Darian never knew the right things to say at the right time - but that never stopped him from trying to do the right thing. Walking over to the bedside, he gently took Kate’s tiny hand into his own. No words escaped his lips, instead allowing his actions to display his sympathy.

Kate turned over to face Darian as he entered the room and took her hand. She was grateful for his silence, the sympathetic expression in his eyes communicating more than words could ever say. She lay for a moment just staring tiredly into nothing. After Emma’s death she’d never wanted to step foot inside another hospital again and yet here she was, only a few weeks later… and she’d lost another child.

“I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“I said I’d stay here with you didn’t I?” asked Darian gently, letting his fingers stroke over Kate’s hand softly. “How are you feeling?”

Kate shrugged noncommittally, “I don’t know, tired mostly, kind of numb… I still can’t really take it all in.”

Darian sighed and with his free hand brushed back a loose tendril of red hair from Kate’s face. It was true he didn’t really know her all that well but it just felt like the right thing to do, anything to try and make her feel a little better. He continued his soothing motion rhythmically, his hand drawing across her forehead and then back across the silky surface of her hair.

“I didn’t even-” he started awkwardly and then paused, not sure if it was right for him to continue. “I mean, I didn’t know you were… expecting.”

Kate shook her head hopelessly, “I didn’t know…” she said, sniffling a little. “You know… to lose one child…” she said wistfully, not really concentrating on her words, “…may be regarded as misfortune, to lose two seems like carelessness…”

Suddenly she felt herself laughing, light, hysterical laughter that sounded eerie and unnatural in the quiet room. Kate clasped her hands over her mouth tightly to try and suffocate the sound but it wouldn’t go and instead tears rolled down her face and she gasped for air as her hysteria continued.

“Oh my god!” she cried out in panic, “What… what am I doing?”

“Shhhh,” Darian soothed, trying to calm down the hysterical woman. “It’s not your fault Kate, don’t for a second think that it is. No one could have seen either one come, and even if we could have, we couldn’t have stopped it. Not even with all the supernatural abilities we have can we do anything to stop the natural order of things.”

He sighed heavily, not sure if his words meant anything to her; how could they, with all she’d been through? “If you would like, I could go call Galen,” he suggested supportively. From what he had seen at the wake, he knew they were having their problems, but in a time like this he was sure she would want her husband by her side.

“No!” said Kate suddenly, grabbing hold of Darian firmly, “No, you can’t tell him, you can’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t- I mean…” her eyes were wild, almost feral as she hung onto Darian, her grip tight and unrelenting. She couldn’t let him tell Galen, not after what had happened when Emma had died and as for anyone else finding out… no, she just couldn’t allow it to happen.

“They wouldn’t understand,” she said finally, “You have to promise me Darian, you won’t tell anyone about this, you HAVE to promise me.”

Darian was shocked by Kate’s outburst, but did nothing to argue; it was her life, and it was her decision. “If that’s what you want Kate,” he said gently, “I promise.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Allyana's picture

March 15th
12:16 am

Mike drank his coffee and studied his friend. Ellis was absorbed in his thoughts, looking into his own cup of coffee as if he would find the secrets of the universe written in its bottom.

Mike sighed. In all the years he had known Ellis Longwood - from a restless youth to the mature man he was now - he had never seen him act like he had tonight. True, he was ruthless when it came to the DP dealings, and he’d seen him get an upper hand against dangerous demon hunters; but he had never taken with that ferocity on those weaker than himself. It was just what they were trying to accomplish with the DP.

Ellis had completely lost it, and he himself had been this close to having to kill the younger man tonight. It gave him the creeps.

“What are you doing in LA, Mike?”

Ellis’ words startled him out of his thoughts. He raised an eyebrow, *So you don’t want to talk about it? We’ll see.*

“Still following your friend’s trail. The Council’s First Elder is here, with the Slayer.”

“Delancre?” Ellis frowned. That couldn’t be good, if the Council’s Elder was in LA it could only mean something bad was brewing in the city. The Council hadn't bothered to come in earlier emergencies, serious as they were.

“One and the same.” Mike went on. “And most interesting still, he arrived via Colombia.”

“Damn, that cold fish! I knew it!” Ellis’ fist fell on the table, making the cups spill part of their contents onto it.

“Well, he could have gone to check things out in that island. Those ‘renegades’ he’s claiming to have…”

“Yes, and I could be a Torek,” Ellis sneered. “We need to know his reasons for being here, Mike.”

“I’m working on it.” Mike’s answer left no doubt that he would. He took another sip of his coffee. “How’s your demon friend, by the way?”

“She’s better.” Ellis brushed back his hair, disturbed at the thought of Alessa. “Much better actually…”

“But…?” Mike pressed.

Silence.

“You gonna tell me what’s happening or what?”

Ellis sighed; it was proof of Mike’s concern that he was asking. Mike’s nature was that he never asked, but waited to be told. The man was laconic and grave, but more reliable than most. And he knew he could trust him, he had seen enough of his ‘new self’ to know the thing was serious.

He leant forward on his elbows and told Mike about his emotional state of late. About the Roxana’s visit, and the vampiress whore. He laid the facts clearly and concisely.

“How long since you last got laid, man?”

“Hell. It’s not that! I’m not just horny.” He rubbed his eyes, he was tired. “I’m completely out of control, Mike. Yesterday I almost fucked Alessa over a billiard table!”

“Would that have been bad?” Mike felt a smile tug at his mouth. “You’ve been doing moony eyes over that demoness for months now; it was time you did something about it.”

“She’s in fucking mourning! I shouldn’t have.” Ellis’ fist connected with the table again.

Mike just raised his other eyebrow.

“You pushed her? Took her against her will?” At Ellis’ silence, Mike went on, “Doesn’t sound so bad then. Seems to me the lady is old enough to know what she wants.”

“Well, she didn’t want it. She left.”

“Case closed, then.”

Mike’s logic was infuriating, and Ellis just couldn’t take it. He felt his temper rise and his hands shake; he gritted his teeth, but Mike just kept looking at him.

“Now, that worries me more.” His friend could barely listen to him, he was too mad to think clearly. “Your temper. It took the better of you with those kids, as it is doing now. It’s not normal.” *It’s not normal you wanting to kill children, no matter what the reasons,* he added to himself.

He stayed silent for a few moments, watching Ellis slowly get to his usual cool. There was something there, and not only his friend thinking with his dick.

He was going to consult the “Magic & Relics” experts himself. If there was something at odds in Ellis, they would find out. There were a couple of powerful mages in the company’s employ too. His own reluctance to do it was not a good sign either, although Ellis had said he would he hadn't got to consult them yet.

“We’ll see the 'M&R' people tomorrow.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Simryn's picture

***** March 14th 2007 - Midnight – Simryn’s Apartment*****

Simryn was dreaming. And not a dream as one might think, filled with the odds and ends of the subconscious but one that was terrifyingly lucid. Nor was it a vision of the things that haunted her past, but seemed to be a present mystery not of her own making.

In the dream, sunlight touched her face and yet her skin did not feel its warmth. Blurred figures walked past her, their movements distorted and their voices muffled as if a heavy pressure were pushing at her ears. But every once in a while, in a gesture or flicker of movement, the faces sharpened into focus revealing visages of malevolence and then the sharp sound of petrified screaming could be heard before it was once more muted.

Experiencing an odd sense of vertigo, the Kshatrani tried to close her eyes and cover her ears but the sound penetrated even the shield of her hands.

‘Come, child,’ a familiar voice said in the old-tongue and Simryn turned toward it. She had not heard him come, not sensed his approach and yet he stood emotionless beside her his ebony eyes staring into the distance.

‘My lord, Vishnu,’ she cried, her heart gladdened to see a familiar face in this strange place and at the same time was inexplicably wary. Vishnu only incarnated when the balance between good and evil tipped toward the side of the demons, thus his presence here did not bode well for the rest of the world. When she would have fallen to her knees he stilled her with a motion of his fingers.

‘Come…’ he said again and began to walk though there was no way to tell in which direction he traveled.

With no other course of action, Simryn followed behind, glad to escape the masked figures. Suddenly, upon the horizon that had seemed flat and empty she could make out the outline of a building, which seemed to be their destination. As they drew closer, the Kshatrani could see that the structure was composed of cages; thick metal bars enclosing the stone perimeter and within the cages, shadows lurked, a living darkness that caused her body to quake.

‘Where do you lead me, lord? What were those… things we left behind?” Simryn gasped, fear making her breathless.

Vishnu turned toward her, ‘That place we left behind was your present world, I fear you are surrounded by much danger child and all is not what it seems… As for where we go, look there and you will see the face of the first enemy you must face.” He pointed toward the cage with one of his four arms, the one that held his mighty blade.

Suppressing revulsion, Simryn obeyed and peered beyond the steel shafts to make out a form. The blackness seemed impenetrable and the only evidence of a being within was the occasional dull shine of eyes. The green-gold luminescent orbs shone like cat-eyes, but here there was nothing behind the gaze except a quiet seething malevolence that caused her skin to crawl. Looking down the row of cages, she could see that all were filled and she wondered what lunacy would induce anyone keep such demons.

‘Why have you brought me here, Lord?’ she asked almost angrily and gasped in surprise when a fiery vision assailed her. Her head jerked back as her body stiffened and her eyes were blind to real sight. It was a boy child no older than ten years of age, dressed up in his finery and he was being put into the cage that held the darkness by gentle, knowing hands. It was over in a matter of seconds; the demon reached out lumbering shadow-hands and grasped the boy pulling the child inward, slowly, inexorably into the blackness. His eyes were wide and glazed over whether in fear or because he was drugged Simryn didn’t know but she prayed that it was the latter. And then came the screams, over and over… she heard a whimper and realized it was herself.

‘What must I do?’ her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. The vision had ceased but she could not wipe away the image of that innocent child and she knew she would do whatever she must to stop those responsible.

‘You know what you must do,’ he answered softly, touching her shoulder with the hand that held the Lotus blossom of peace and Simryn breathed deeply of the soothing scent. It strengthened her… reminded her that she had never lost a battle and that while the demons rose through the ages they were always defeated.

“Yes… yes,” she nodded, her eyes burning like green fire.

*** 6:42 a.m. ***

The room was still steeped in violet shadows, the open shutters throwing patterns of watery light against the opposite wall and outside all was still, or so it seemed. A sharp knock sounded and Simryn jerked up in bed, her skin clammy from the paths her dreams had so recently taken. The knocking continued insistently, but she could find no voice to answer and she wasn’t at all surprised when the rapping stopped and Vivek burst through the door.

“If you were awake why didn’t you answer me?” he demanded, his face flushed with anger.

Simryn stared at him blankly, it was amusing how he still expected her to answer to him and the more she continued to ignore him the angrier he became. Not altogether surprising she knew but she missed the respect with which she had been treated back in her century.

“Get ready, we’re going out,” he barked before turning to leave.

“I…” she started crossly just as his hand touched the door knob, causing him to whirl back on her.

“No! No arguments! You’ve been holed up in here for almost a week now and nothing is getting done. We came to this country so you could find your true love.” As usual he sneered the last two words, his finger jabbing through the air to point at her accusingly, “And I refuse to let you waste any more time!” When she would have opened her mouth again he shut the door firmly on her protests.

Still shaking from her dream, Simryn looked around her small room in confusion until her eyes came to rest on the small dresser, its mirror reflecting the truth back to her. Her skin looked sallow from being constantly indoors, despite oversleeping deep shadows traced her eyes and it was possible that her hair hadn’t been brushed in days. All in all, she looked like a grubby, wide-eyed waif sitting in the middle of a too-big bed that threatened to swallow her. With a sigh, the Kshatrani admitted that for once Vivek was right, she needed to get out. And now she finally knew what she must do.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Simryn's picture

***continued***

*** Wednesday, 14th March 2007 - 6:43am ***

Away from the inscrutable green of her eyes, Vivek’s anger left him and he sagged against the wooden door. He couldn’t quite believe what he had done himself, and was even more surprised to hear movements from inside the room. Letting out a pent up sigh, Vivek pushed off the door to enter the small kitchenette. Now that she was finally awake it was time to get some food into her. Despite what the Kshatrani thought of herself and her enhanced abilities she still needed to eat.

The steady sound of the knife hitting the chopping board filled the room as Vivek diced vegetables to put into an omelet - the only thing he could make considering the sparseness of anything in their pantry. And as he went through the automatic motions of preparing a meal his mind wandered back to the events of the last week leading up to Simryn’s self-imposed severance from the rest of the world.

*** flashback ***

***** March 07th 2007 – 1:30 p.m. - Cosmo’s Internet Café *****

The printer whirred and Simryn watched in fascination as words appeared on the blank page, words that would tell her where to find the one she sought. “Will this truly tell us where he is?” she asked Vivek who was sitting in front of the computer port in the process of logging off. He shook his head and a smile turning up the corner of his lips, sometimes he forgot how new she was to this technological age.

“Not exactly, this is just a list of all the people who could be him. I got their names by checking this main area where you said you could feel his presence and cross-referencing it with the age he has to be in this century… it wasn’t too hard,” he said with a modest shrug at her look of wonder. Ripping the paper off the printer, Vivek twirled the keys of his rental on his finger and exited the little café as Simryn zipped past him toward the car. Following the first set of directions printed out on the paper, they made their way across the city.

“This is the first place,” Vivek said as he looked out the window toward the inconspicuous looking house, squinting his eyes against he midday glare. “Are you ready?” he asked turning toward the woman sitting immobile beside him. With a tight nod, Simryn pushed open her door and waited for Vivek to come around to the side before they walked together toward the door, her heart was beating erratically as she thought about how it would feel to finally meet her soul mate again.

Vivek rang the bell and stepped back, and after a second that seemed like an eternity the door was swung open, held precariously by a little tow-headed girl who smiled at them innocently. Kneeling so that he was level with the child, Vivek asked, “Can we speak with an adult please?”

The girl nodded, turning her head to yell, “Moooom! Daaaad! There’s people at the doooor!!!” With that she ran off, and an older woman with similar features took her place.

“Hi, can I help you?” she asked with a gently inviting smile.

“Who is it honey?” a strong male voice asked directly behind her and the door was pushed open wider to reveal a handsome young man who looked down at the woman with glowing azure eyes. He put a tender arm around the woman who was clearly his wife and she leaned into his side in a graceful, instinctive movement borne of familiarity and love. “Can I help you?”

*Was this the man they had come looking for?* Simryn asked herself, stunned. The man was the right age and in the right area but he already had a family he obviously loved and cherished. A mirthless laugh escaped her lips as she beheld the pair; they glowed with devotion and love for each other, their auras taking on a single hue. She had known such a love once. Simryn pressed clenched hands to her stomach in an unconscious effort to hold back the screams that pressed against her spine. She felt such a fool!!! So many years and she had never even considered that while her own affections remained untouched by age, her lover’s reawakened soul might find it in another place.

“Are you all right miss?” the woman asked gently, the honey brown eyes revealing true worry for a complete stranger.

“I’m sorry, we must have the wrong place,” Vivek broke in, having found his voice again. Grabbing the Kshatrani’s elbow he tugged her back down the walkway.

“Maybe you should come inside for a bit, your wife doesn’t look so well,” the man spoke holding the door wide for them but Vivek just propelled Simryn faster.

“Thank you so much, she’ll be fine. We need to get going, thank you again and sorry for the inconvenience,” he assured the other couple and finally managed to get an unresponsive Simryn into the car. They sat for a moment, Vivek staring straight ahead and Simryn with her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed.

“We could go to the next person, he was only the first person on the list…” Vivek started on a rush of words but fell silent when a single tear seeped from the corner of her eyelid and trailed down her face.

Neither of them said a word as they drove back to the apartment. Vivek flicked a switch, bathing the room in unnatural light. “There is still the chance that he is out there…” he tried once more, but looking into Simryn’s blank eyes he knew it was a futile argument. He ran his hands through his hair in mounting frustration as with a last unseeing glance, Simryn shut the door behind her.

*** END flashback ***

Delicious smells filled the air and Simryn’s belly rumbled loud enough so that Vivek looked over, causing her to blush. Instead of a sarcastic comment he put a plate in front of her, piled high with the simple fare that seemed absolutely heavenly to her at that moment. With a smile of gratitude brightening her eyes she lit into her breakfast with renewed enthusiasm.

Once the kitchen had been cleaned up, all the dishes washed and put away Simryn wiped her hands on a dry towel and passed it companionably to Vivek who hung it up near the sink. “So, what do you feel like doing today?” he asked, leaning serenely against the counter. “I thought I might take you shopping so you can buy your own clothes, I know you didn’t really like the ones I picked for you so…” he left the choice up to her.

Simryn smiled at this descendant of her enemy, he really was sweet and he tried to care for her as best he could even though most of the time he ended up angering her rather than helping. “Thank you for the offer,” she said, making a concentrated effort to speak in English as he had taught her, “but the things I brought with me are fine.”

He knew she referred to the homespun native clothes she had insisted on bringing along, they had been made especially for her and indeed she looked lovely in them. Unfortunately, they didn’t exactly help her fit in, in this part of the world.

When he would have insisted, she forestalled him. “But there is something else you could do for me,” she said almost hesitantly which aroused his curiosity enough that he agreed without asking what it was she wanted first. “Remember that day when you found the list of men we went to see?”

He grimaced at the memory and nodded faintly so that she continued, “There is something else that I need you to find…”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Evalyn Toussaint's picture

1318 Poplar Ave - Reah’s Apartment
Wednesday the 14th, March, 2007
18:41

To put it simply: the day had been hell!

After being up until the early morning the previous night, Reah had only made a brief return to the apartment at 3am for a quick shower and nap before skipping back out at 5am and heading back down to the Armoury. She’d been on her own for a good two hours fixing up this and that before Nikolai arrived, closely followed by Alessa. The deliveries had been late, the computer system had broken down again, and rather than the plumber arriving at 9am like he’d stated, he’d arrived along with the deliveries at 11:30!

Alessa had been pretty distracted during the day and Reah ended up having to drag Quin out of school, literally, to help them stock the place up so they were ready to open for business the upcoming day.

Needless to say, Quin wasn’t the least bit enthused about having to help, and even less so when Reah firmly stated that they were still to train that night as soon as they got home, which was surprisingly earlier than they’d expected, at 6:30.

“Get changed and don’t bother with a shower,” Reah called after Quin’s furiously retreating back, then muttered to herself. “You piss me off wasting perfectly good water. You only need to shower once afterwards.”

‘knock-knock’

… Fan-fucking-tastic!

“Bugger off….” Reah groaned painfully as she finished wrapping a bandage around her knuckles and strolled tiredly towards the door. “Yeah, can I help you?” She wrenched it open and stared at the girl before her. She looked strangely familiar.

“Hiya!”

Reah frowned. “You a friend of Quin’s?”

“Yeah. I was next ta her when you dragged her outta class.” She smiled as though there was something funny that Reah was obviously failing to see. “She in?”

“She’s busy,” Reah quickly replied, flashing an unfelt smile. “What’s your name?”

“Chastity.”

“Well, Chastity,” Reah continued, glancing briefly over her shoulder before turning back to the lively teen. She reminded her of some of her old school friends back on the coast. A lot of them were into that alternative look, herself included! “Quin’s a little tied up with working her ass off, suffering, until I’m satisfied for what she did to my bed.” Clearly amused by this, the girl’s head quickly ducked in a polite attempt to cover it. Reah didn’t doubt that if she was a friend of Quin’s, she was likely well aware of the said deed. “Any messages you have for her, I’ll be sure to pass them on.”

Reah paused with a frown, studying the girl’s hair. “And didn’t you have brown hair earlier today?”

“Yeah,” she grinned, “Don’t worry, you haven’t gone all crazy like, hehe. I just bleached it when I got home.”

“Just like that.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“… Good for you…. I think you missed a spot.”

Chastity had herself a little chuckle at Reah’s slightly bewildered expression. "Who's Skyline is that out the front?"

"Mine."

"Fuck off!"

"Fuck oath!" Reah blandly mimicked the girl, bringing a cold silence between the two.

After standing about awkwardly for a moment or so, Reah slowly gestured with her hand in a not so subtle attempt to hurry the girl up. “Anyway…”

“Oh yeah!” The girl chirped up, slipping her bag off her shoulder to unzip the side pocket. “I just have some music sheets for her singing.”

Reah frowned, slightly taken aback. “Quin sings?”

“Hell yeah!” Chastity beamed. “She’s damn good at it too! Gives me a run for my money, but I’d love ta jam one on one with her one day.”

Reah shrugged indifferently and took the sheets from the girl. You learnt something new every day.

“Tell her I said hi, too, yeah?” Chastity slipped her shoulder back under her skater’s bag.

“Yeah… sure.” Reah tossed a nod and closed the door behind her. “Whatever.”

Music sheets in hand, Reah frowned down at the multitude of notes and mumbo-jumbo she couldn’t understand for the life of her and wondered how anyone else could actually be bothered!

Quin sang?

Dragging her feet back towards the kitchen, Reah dropped the papers to her side with a sigh, stopping when she noticed Quin waiting expectantly in front of her, arms crossed.

“Who was that?”

Reah eyed her cousin dressed in sweatpants and singlet shirt speculatively for a moment before holding out the sheets of music still in her hand. “A friend of yours dropped these off. Charity, or something.”

Chastity,” Quin firmly corrected without raising her voice in the slightest and calmly accepted the papers with the composure of a Queen addressing her maid.

Reah seethed, gritting her teeth. “You ready, yet?” At her concurring nod, Reah turned on her heel and ushered her cousin out the door with a firm shove, then upward towards the third floor training room. “Pray you’ve got your wits about you tonight."


Chastity played by Christina Aquilera

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Heather's picture

Thursday, 15th March 2007 - 7pm

Tash parked her bike outside Alessa's house and trudged up the path to her front door. After a short workout when Galen left, Tash had felt a little better about today’s disappointing turnout. And even though lately nobody much had seemed willing to pull their weight, she still felt she should honour her own promises. When she'd called to see if it was a good time to come over, Alessa had sounded a little reluctant but had agreed readily enough. Tash wondered if that reluctance stemmed from Alessa’s continued absence at the White Hat meetings. But today she was here to fulfil her obligation to help with Chance's memorial. Though with everything that was going on now, especially all the time she was spending with Ana and Delancre, Tash was wishing she hadn't been so hasty to suggest the memorial.

Pushing such uncharitable thoughts to the back of her brain, Tash rang the doorbell, wondering if the frosty Inés was going to be home as well. Tash still wasn't sure why the woman had seemed to take an instant dislike to her. As the door began to open she arranged her features into a pleasant smile.

Alessa had just got out of the shower when the bell rang and she praised herself for her timing. She had just come home from the Armoury opening when Tash had called, and she had needed a bath after the continuous work that had meant. She had been up since dawn helping Reah and Nikolai with the last arrangements for the ‘grand première’, and then working non stop all day. Fortunately Nikolai had sensed her fatigue and driven her home about twenty minutes ago, although she wasn’t very happy at leaving Reah so early. The store looked like it would be open for a while still.

She put on her robe and went to answer the door, breathing deeply before opening it. She was happy to see Tash, but she didn’t know how the woman would react at her leaving the White Hats. She had made up her mind though, and the more she put off the matter the worse it would be. She needed to talk to Tash, and just hoped she would understand. Steadying herself, she finally opened the door.

“Hello Tash. That was quick.” She put on her best smile to greet her friend.

“Well, it’s not far from Poplar to here,” Tash replied as she entered Alessa’s home. It was neat, as always, and she noted with relief that there was no sign of Inés.

“How are you feeling today, any better?” Tash asked, but not being in the mood for pleasantries she pressed right on, wanting to get this over with. “We should work on sorting out Chance’s memorial, I guess, if you’re up to it.”

Alessa just looked at Tash and blushed; she hadn't even thought about the memorial for some time. “The memorial. Right,” she said, trying to hide her embarrassment, “I… I haven’t thought much about it, to be honest.” No, actually she had tried not to think much about anything the past couple of days. After what had happened with Ellis she had worked herself to oblivion every day. Now a memorial. For Chance. She didn’t feel that rendering her respects to him now would be appropriate, she hadn't even thought about him…

She paused and bit her lip, “And on second thought, I don’t know if it would be such a good idea. I mean, we don’t even have anything of his to bury or… and I’ve already said my goodbyes…” She stopped, noticing that she was almost babbling.

Tash shrugged. She was just as happy not to have to go through yet another funeral service. She hadn't really known Chance all that well, but she was surprised that Alessa seemed so nonchalant about it.

"Oh well, if you don't feel the need, we don't have to," she said, relief giving her voice warmth.

"So then," Tash continued, "when were you planning on coming back to the meetings? There's been a bit of news lately. The Watchers have come to town in some force, and have asked to team up with us. I mean, isn't that good news? It means we've made enough of an impact for an organisation as large at the Watchers' Council to notice us." Tash beamed, pleased with the way things had been going recently.

At the mention of the Council Alessa almost staggered, and she closed her eyes tightly for a second. The usual wave of panic went through her, but she took deep breaths to subdue it. Then she opened her eyes again, dismayed to see that the happy smile on Tash’s face had disappeared. A new feeling of rage rushed over the fear; she was mortified with her weakness.

“I’m sorry Tash, the Council has that effect on me lately.” She frowned, “What do you mean they are here in ‘full force’?”

Tash smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Alessa, of course you're worried about them these days. I met with the head of the Council the other day, and he assured me that those on the island are renegades. He's dealing with them. I can read auras, so I know he was being truthful." Her smile grew broader. "So you see, there's nothing to worry about. He's brought the Slayer to Los Angeles, and the Council is beginning a new age where instead of just 'watching' they take an active part in rooting out evil. Delancre has brought trained, disciplined troops that are ready to take care of any issues. If we'd had them last year, we wouldn't have had to ally with Alaric against the Brotherhood, and Sorrow might still be alive. It will reduce our risk considerably, Alessa."

Alessa wanted to be convinced by Tash’s words, but a lifetime of dealings with the Council, none of them very fortunate and culminating in her kidnapping, had left her with a rather sceptical view of the organisation.

“I just hope you are right, Tash. I agree that they are a powerful organisation, I can't deny that or I’d be a fool. But they aren’t trustworthy.” She raised her hands as if apologising. “I’m not doubting your abilities here, please don’t get me wrong, but they have ways to get around those things. Trust me, I lived with a Watcher more than twenty years, and was friends with another for twenty more.” She sighed, “Really, I hope you are right, for the White Hats’ sake.”

*Well, this is it,* she thought, and looked Tash right in the eyes. “About the White Hats… well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t think I’ll be going back, Tash. I’m sorry.”

Tash grunted, stung by Alessa's words. Ok, she'd been kidnapped by a handful of people who paid lip service to the Watchers, but seemed to be using it for their own ends. Surely Alessa couldn't blame the whole organisation for that. *And leaving the White Hats? Is she serious?* Tash eyed her friend and saw with dismay that Alessa was firm in her conviction on this. All her frustration from the afternoon’s meeting-that-wasn’t welled up afresh.

"Hmph, well, if that's how you feel, then I can't stop you. And really," she added, hitting her stride, "if you don't wish to work with those who fight against evil, then maybe the White Hats isn't the right place for you anyway. I know you're upset about the whole kidnapping thing, but it's not as if that was something sanctioned by the Council, was it? Lord Delancre has proven to be very honest and open about his intentions, and we know the Watchers stand as a force for good. I thank you for your help in the past, and if you ever feel you can join up with us again I'm sure we'll consider you."

The words coming out of her mouth tasted bitter and cold, but Tash couldn't stop herself from saying them. She felt incredibly disappointed in Alessa, and betrayed. Here was this bright new era opening up for them and Alessa was throwing it back in her face. *So be it,* she thought. *If that's how she wants it, that's how she'll get it.*

Alessa’s temper flared. She knew Tash wouldn’t like her decision, but she had never thought she would be so nasty about it. “Well, at least that’s what Lord Delancre says, but if he were so good about his dealings he wouldn’t have ‘renegades’ to worry about. Also if your White Hats were so goody goody you’d have found me sooner too, or prevented Chance from dying! You are so busy looking for ‘evil’ that you forget about your own people!” Alessa’s tone had increasingly risen as she talked, and she didn’t notice her eyes going red.

Tash felt as though she’d been slapped. Then she started seeing red. These issues had been plaguing her, how she’d felt so helpless at not having the information to do anything at the time, and now she was being accused of sitting on her hands while others did the work. It was too much.

“What has happened to you, Alessa, to say such things?” she asked, her voice rising. “You know damn well the only reason I wasn’t at the forefront of your rescue and Chance’s is that in both cases nobody saw fit to tell me what the hell was going on until it was too late! If your precious cousin had bothered to contact us about her visions of you, I’d have been there in my own chartered plane looking for you. But no, she had to go through Ernie’s son. And Darian told me how Pandora wouldn’t let him have time to get anyone to help go after Chance. I was right upstairs dammit!”

Fuming, Tash paced back and forth, unable to stay still with the fury seething inside her. “How dare you stand there and accuse me of ignoring your peril, when it was your own damn cousin who refused to contact me. Is that why she was so cold when I met her? Did you tell her that I should have been there? You know I would have been, given a scrap of information to say where you were!”

“Don’t you dare to talk badly of Inés. She was the only one who noticed me gone! And she did contact you! She contacted the only one of the White Hats she knew: Daye!” Alessa’s eyes flared again. “And I didn’t need to put things in her mind, she has a very good working mind of her own, thank you. She can get to her own conclusions!” Alessa’s tone got ironic. “And what could have happened to me? I wonder… Maybe a month in the hands of your new allies!?”

Alessa breathed in to steady her mind, and added in a more subdued tone. “Maybe you should be improving your ‘intelligence’ instead of putting blame on others!”

Tash’s reply was frosty. “And perhaps our intelligence would have been better if people like you actually gave a damn about what we were trying to accomplish. Like hell Inés was the only one who noticed you were gone. When your calls stopped coming I followed every avenue I could to track you down. Looks like I needn’t have bothered, since your gratitude is so overwhelming. But no, nobody wanted to share information. The first I knew about your location being found was when Daye left a message on my voicemail – and she was already on her way to get you. Do you think I didn’t want to be on that plane, too?”

Tash breathed deeply, trying to cool the anger that boiled deep within her. But it burned fiercely and try as she might she couldn’t mouth the words of conciliation. “Perhaps it’s best that you don’t want to come to any more meetings, Alessa, since obviously you feel we’re all useless anyway. I’m terribly sorry to have disturbed your evening for something so mundane as a memorial service for your dead lover. Goodnight.”

She turned on her heel and headed towards the front door.

Alessa’s resolution faltered then, did she think Tash wouldn’t have bothered about her? Probably not. Why couldn’t she see that she just wanted out, it wasn’t like she was selling their secrets to the enemy, turning to the dark side or anything like that? She started to raise her hand to the other woman but then Tash mentioned Chance, and her face hardened again, all doubts fleeing her mind.

“A lover who shouldn’t be dead in the first place!” she shouted at Tash’s retreating back.

Tash whirled, her hand on the doorknob. “Oh, no,” she said vehemently, “You will not lay the blame for that at my door. If anyone was in a position to see what was happening to him, it was you!” Tash’s eyes narrowed and she hissed, “Chance died from his own foolishness, your blindness and Darian’s haste. I’d have gone to help if I could, but as with your kidnapping, nobody saw fit to mention anything to me.”

Alessa felt as if the breath had been sucked from her chest, Tash’s blow was hard and it was true, and she just couldn’t find the words to answer her. There weren’t words to answer her because she was right. She staggered and had to lean on the sofa not to fall, turning around so Tash wouldn’t see her tears.

“Good bye, Tash,” she said, “Please close the door behind you.”

The pain emanating from Alessa was palpable, and for a moment Tash felt a deep pang of regret that her words had caused this. But she was tired of shouldering everyone else’s pain and ignoring her own. It was too hard to keep it up any more. She wanted to be the way she was in the old days, when she was cut off from people, separate from them. When she could still feel their pain but she refused to let it touch her. If she worked hard at it, she could be that way again, she was sure. The love that Victor had awoken in her would die with him.

“Good bye Alessa.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Allyana's picture

March 15th
7:32 pm

The slamming of the door behind Tash was the cue for Alessa to fall apart. The hurt at Tash’s words had cut deep and bad, and she let herself fall on the couch and the tears she was suppressing flow freely. She cried as she hadn't cried in days, since she had started to work, since she had started to get out, since she had started not to think about Chance…

After the first outburst subsided, she tried to replay the conversation in her mind to see when had the rot got into it, but couldn’t. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Even if she had meant all the things she had said to Tash and she did regret saying them, expecially the tone she had spoken. She had been mean, something that she seemed to do more and more often lately.

She knew that much of what Tash had said was true too, but not all of it. She was guilty of blindness regarding Chance’s death, but the White Hats had their share of responsibility too. If only for not being a real group, each and every member just too arrogant to admit they needed help and ask for it! They didn’t have a sense of unity, and with Tash being so proud herself they wouldn’t get it!

Uncounsciously Alessa started to tap her feet on the floor, growing restless as her temper got the better of her once more. Replaying the conversation in her mind again, she found more and more reasons for behaving like she had. She got up and started to pace around the small living room, talking to herself as she did so.

“So, if you aren’t a White Hat, you aren’t ‘worthy’? Hah! And then she goes and makes an alliance with the Watchers’ Council!"

She didn’t buy that stuff about a renegades group; she didn’t remember anything about her ordeal, but the feeling of fear she got every single time the Council was mentioned surely meant something.

Esos estupidos arrogantes, cerdos mentirosos. Le lavaron el cerebro, y claro, ¿cómo le van a lavar el cerebro a alguien tan importante e inteligente como ella? ¿Cómo se me ocurre semejante cosa? Noooo, Tash es perfecta, a ella nadie la engaña, a ella nadie la deja!”(1)

She went on and on, rambling in Spanish, crying at the same time in fury as much as hurt, too winded to even think in English. She wondered what the rest would say about the alliance with the Council. Although she didn’t doubt Tash would present them with the accomplished deal and expect bows and praises for it.

Perra arrogante! ” (2) With those last words Alessa slowered and wiped her tears. She wouldn’t cry over Tash’s words, or over her intolerance.

Lo pasado, pisado. ” The past was past, and the White Hats were in her past now, as was Chance and her guilt over his death. At the thought of Chance’s dying she started another tirade. She wasnt guilty of that too, she had tried to talk to him, she had!

Mierda! I was already in Colombia when he took that wretched trip to Israel. How could I have prevented that!? If somebody should have noticed something it should have been Chance! But nooo, he had better things to do!”

Cursing floridly in Spanish in her way to the bathroom, Alessa turned the lights on and looked at her reflection in the mirror, “Estoy espantosa! ”(3), she said to her reflection. Her eyes were puffy and her hair fell in wet limp strands besides her too pale, too thin face. She pursed her lips, *How have I been leaving the house like this? I wonder how Ellis wants me?*

For the first time, she didn’t feel guilt at her attraction for Ellis. He had been there for her when Chance hadn't, he had rescued her, nursed her and supported her while she cried and moaned like a stupid child over some lost candy. He deserved better!

As she looked at herself in the mirror, Alessa’s cheeks got rounder and supple once again. Her skin returned to her healthy olive tone and her puffy eyes lost their swelling and seemed to get brighter and even greener.

She smiled, that was better. But she still didn’t like what she saw. Her hair! It was too dark, she didn’t want to be a brunette anymore, it was time for a change. With this thought, her hair grew longer and turned a light silver color.

“No, that’s too much,” she said as she studied herself in the mirror, turning her face right and left and raising her hair upwards with her hands. “I’m not a pelirroja either...” she mused as it got to a bright carroty tone. Finally her hair’s color darkened to a deep honey shade. Alessa smiled, satisfied at last. “That’s it. Beautiful.”

She was about to leave the bathroom when she frowned, it had been too easy. Changing. It had been too damned easy. She tried again; without much effort, her eyes changed from green to brown to blue to get green once again. She didn’t need more proof, her eyes had always been particularly bothersome to change.

Bárbaro!” she smiled brightly. “Wait till Inés knows of this!”

Laughing, she walked to her bedroom. The excitement of her newly improved ability overriding everything else, even how it could be so.

She opened her closet and inspected her clothes inside, frowning again. Too many jeans, too many t-shirts, some teacher appropriate garments, not one nice dress… except for the one she had bought for Chance, and she wouldn’t wear that! Most of her things were flexible and comfortable to fight in, or to work in, to get invisible in... they weren’t feminine enough. Nothing of what she owned suited her new mood.

Tapping her fingers on the closet’s door, she pondered what to do, then she looked at the couple of drawers she had given Inés to use while she stayed in her apartment. It wasn’t much, her cousin had kept the bulk of her clothes at her hotel room, but there was enough to go by until she got some new things.

She opened Inés’ drawers and went through her stuff. Her cousin favored white or vibrant colors, and she had good taste. Finally she selected a simple white dress, it was very virginal in its color but it showed to much skin to even begin to be so, its low cut neck highlighted her small bosom and its skirt reached just above her knees, showing off her legs, that looked just great with Inés’ high heeled pumps on. It was perfect.

After putting it on, she studied herself carefully in the mirror again; no wonder Inés liked white so much, it did miracles to their tanned complexion. She smiled and started to apply her cosmetics carefully.

“Now, what do I do? All ready to party and no party to go?” she asked her reflection after she finished readying herself.

Alessa grinned. She knew why she had gone to such lengths to look just right. Now she had just got to gather the courage to do it.

***
(1) I'll leave this part to your imagination. :wink: Mostly it says that the Council brainwashed Tash and that's she's too arrogant to notice it... with harsher words.

(2) "Arrogant bitch!"

(3) “I look ugly!”

daye approaches nik for fun and profit

Firefly's picture

***Friday, March 16, 2007 8 am***
***Parking lot of Nikolai’s apartment building***

Nikolai whistled to himself as he walked down to the parking lot in the morning. Life was good. Thanks to the robbery the previous night, he – along with his partners – were each around one-hundred thousand dollars richer. That was even after Svetlana got her ‘cut’. It was a quite fortunate robbery, and the best part was that it was laundered drug money. Totally untraceable. Without a doubt, Jimmy took care of the courier, so nothing could be traced back to them.

It was as clean as a robbery could get.

He felt like celebrating, since it meant something more: he was back in the life. True, he’d never done anything like a robbery before, but then he’d been a freelance killer before. Now he was going to be part of something more. Nikolai didn’t have any doubt that the day he would be ‘made’ wasn’t far off.

As it was, there were plans. A few stops to make at a couple of shops before the evening, and he would be all ready. Nikolai stopped as he reached for the lock to the car as he heard the sounds of heels clicking against the pavement, coupled with the feeling of slight urgency. Someone was looking for him.

Nikolai turned towards the noise with a smile which soon disappeared. Amanda Blaise. He knew she had to be turning heads with the way she was dressed, knee-high leather boots and a tight black mini skirt that showed off her legs to nice effect. The leather jacket and white silk shirt completed the outfit, worn close to the body.

“Hello, Kolya,” she said, smiling seductively. “I was hoping to find you here.”

His hand disappeared into his pocket as he looked around, cursing the fact that it was early and other people were probably around. He would have to wait for her to do something threatening, then. The keys vanished into his pocket as she moved closer to him, resting near the car. Any other man would probably be glad to have the attention of an attractive woman, he thought.

Just not him. He took a moment to feel the emotions coming from her: there was a regret about her, possibly for the way she’d behaved towards him before. And still an excitement there, an attraction. That didn’t make the pain any less at what she had done to him, or how she had treated Alicia.

“What do you want?” he asked with an icy calmness.

Daye looked contrite. She didn't meet Nikolai's gaze, but rather kept her gaze down, appearing ashamed. She didn't respond immediately.

Finally, glancing up, she spoke in a soft tone. "I've come to apologize, Ko... Nikolai. I realize that my actions were unconscionable, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but for the sake of my own peace of mind, I had to come... had to try."

Daye waited to see how he'd react to her words. She focused on the regret she felt over the utter failure of her little "experiment" the other night. She had intended to chalk it up to "live and learn" and just leave Nikolai alone, but that had been before Alicia had interfered. The woman had way overstepped herself, trying to tell Daye what to do, trying to threaten her with the Council. As if she cared about what those stuffy old fools had to say, or what they might try to do to her. She was beyond them now, beyond their control or influence. Finally, she was her own woman, and it felt good.

Of course, she kept her mind off of all that as she stood before Nikolai. The man was an empath. She had to keep her defenses up.
Nikolai studied Daye carefully. With so many potential witnesses, he had to let her make the first move. Only the regret she felt was clear to him though part of him wondered: was the balance for the attempt or for her failure?

Then there was Alicia - when he learned of what happened earlier in the week between them, he knew that Daye left the Council. "You tried to rape me," he said evenly. "You at least implied a threat to the woman I love. Is there any reason at all why I should forgive you?"

Looking away, Daye winced. "Of course not," she said. "I didn't really even expect you to consider it. I have no excuse. I... I just don't know what's going on with me... I..."

Daye stumbled to a stop. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. "I've made another terrible mistake coming here."

Her voice dropped to a dejected whisper. "I am truly sorry, Nikolai."

Daye turned around and started to walk away.

“Wait," he said, catching her arm to prevent her walking off. Daye turned to him with a hurt look on her eyes, hell he could feel the hurt and disappointment. If she was really willing to apologize, shouldn't he accept it?

Nikolai smiled. Besides, he was in a good mood and he couldn't afford to throw away a potentially useful relationship with one of the 'White Hats' though he suspected that she would not be at the meeting.

"I'm letting my emotions get the better of me Aman- Daye," he corrected himself. She really was upset. "I think I can let it slide... this time."

Daye smiled hesitantly. *Perfect,* she thought.

"Oh, Nikolai... do you mean it?" She allowed just the right amount of hope to creep into her thoughts and voice. "I mean... what I tried to do... what I did to you..."

Daye broke off. "I just... I've been so out of control lately. I don't know what it is... and Alicia, the things I said to her."

Daye began to cry softly. "I just feel so... bad."

Nikolai's arms instinctively went around Daye, allowing her to be comforted as she sobbed softly. Her arms rested on the front of his jacket as she leaned down at him. "It's all right. It was a one time thing, right?" Nikolai felt her head move up and down in a yes motion. He suddenly pulled back as he felt her hand trail near his pistol. Thinking quickly, his hands rested on her shoulders again.

“Then I believe we have an understanding, but I have to tell you... some of the things you said really hurt Alicia."

Daye felt Nikolai stiffen and pull back. Still, she was already making headway. She fought down any stirrings of lust his touch might have invoked. Now was not the time to send the man off running scared again.

"I know..." Deliberately, Daye stepped back. "I don't know what's come over me."

She paused, "I'm sorry for that too, Ko... Nikolai. She's my friend. I've known her forever. I realize she was just trying to help."

Daye looked forlorn. "I just don't know what to do. I've been under some... stress," she continued. "The High Elder is in town, and he's been hinting that I'll be reprimanded for the things I've done her in Los Angeles. He doesn't approve of my involvement with the White Hats. Especially with the demons that I've befriended. The Council, officially, takes a hard line on that. I guess I was just thinking if I could strengthen my magic, I might have a defense against him... them, if they were to come after me."

Daye's voice dropped to a terrified whisper. "You can't imagine what Council discipline can be like. You don't know about Ryan... He was my first love, but he was a demon... and Delancre didn't approve..."

Daye's voice trailed off. "Alicia, when she threatened to go to the Council, I was terrified. I overreacted."

Nikolai stopped for a moment. Her first love, a demon? It was possible that he was wrong about Daye's views on demons, and beat down the rising doubt about Alicia that threatened to resurface. She loved him as well after all, it wasn't like she could hide it.

Or could she?

*No. Daye is right, she's acting funny.* Which left a possible opening. A plan started to form, just in case the worst happened. "I'm so sorry to hear that," was what he said aloud, "But I can understand the reaction. The Council has destroyed so many lives and after what they did to Alessa... who is this Delancre? A rather important man, I take it."

Daye snorted. "Rather," she replied flatly. "He's the First Elder of the Council... or at least he is now. He was appointed when the Brotherhood's actions left us scrambling. And now he's come to L.A."

Daye appeared to be very disturbed. "I don't know what he's really doing here, but he summoned me to the Estate almost directly after his arrival. I can only assume he's going to try and exert control over me, and if he fails to do so... I shudder to think what he may decide to do to me."

Daye paused. "Kolya... the Council doesn't look kindly on people like me. Alicia herself was very disapproving of the choices I've made before she met you. I... lied to you at the funeral. You're right, the Watchers don't approve of demons, any demons. You have to be careful who you trust just now. With increased Watcher involvement in the city, we have to be very careful."

Daye sidled up to Nikolai, placing a hand on his arm. "I'd hate to see anything happen to you... or to Alicia." She laughed lightly, "Or to me for that matter."

Nikolai nodded at that, he would be rather unhappy to see anything happen to Alicia though the jury was still out on Daye. Still there were ways to ensure that the First Elder never hurt anyone again. All it would require, in fact, was one clean shot.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to either of you," he assured Daye. No, he didn't care how much Alicia might have disapproved of Daye before - the bottom line was she didn't disapprove of him. She knew everything about him.

A thought struck him, it was an idle remark. "Of course, death can strike anyone for a price they say. Have you considered a contract if something does happen to you?"

Daye's eyebrows shot up at Nikolai's casual question. *So, what are you up to, Kolya?* she thought to herself, *And does Alicia know?*

"I don't know if I understand your meaning, Kolya?" Daye looked baffled. "What kind of contract?"

"It's nothing. Forget I said anything at all," Nikolai said after a moment's thought before laughing, hoping it didn't sound too forced. "Just call it a rather strange sense of humor on my part."

Daye heard the nerves in his laughter. There was more here, and she was going to pursue it. "No, wait, Kolya, please," she pleaded. "If you have some idea of how I can protect myself, or perhaps make a preemptive strike against Delancre, please tell me what it is, no matter how out of left field you might think it is."

Nikolai sighed. He wasn't sure that he should say anything at all, even give a hint about what he was doing to Daye. But there was concern that convinced him to say something: if she used it, the path would lead back to her. Alicia would be safe.

"A contract," he said at last. "You know, to get someone to take him out for a nice long ride." Hopefully she would recognize the language as something used to describe mob killing. The long ride that you didn't return from, unless your name was Luciano.

Daye paused, considering Kolya's words carefully. *Organized crime?* she thought. *Is that what he means? But how would he know about anything like that?*

"I think I understand, but..." Daye tilted her head in confusion. "How would I go about doing something like that? I wouldn't even begin to know where to turn to."

"Oh, I'm sure you can find a way if you put your mind to it." No way was he admitting that he was getting back into the life, but the fact that Daye appeared to be interested in it intrigued him. "As I said, don't worry about it, it was a stupid idea anyway."

Daye shook her head. "No, not really," she replied. "If I had a way to get into contact with those sorts of people, well..."

*I would have access to information and hard to get supplies, not to mention a whole other client base to choose from.*

"It's funny, cause I've decided to leave Bibliophile and the Council as well, but I'm so worried about possible recriminations. If I had access to the kinds of resources you're talking about, that would mean I could rest a little easier, right?"

"Potentially, depending on what happens," he said, eyeing her suspiciously. Was she really serious about forming these kinds of connections? "You'd have to be careful not to get caught in a sting, and you'll either have a big hole in your bank account or a debt to a boss."

*Actually, her owing me might not be so bad. A powerful witch would come in handy.* Nikolai glanced around to make sure that nobody was watching them. He turned his eyes back to her. Then again, maybe he could do the job himself...

Nikolai moved in closer to Daye's leather-clad body, looking like a man giving a good friend he'd not seen in a long time an embrace of greeting. Ignoring the feeling of her pressed against him, he whispered, "Are you trying to ask me for a favor?"

*Right, let's think this through, she tried to rape you and now you're practically coming on to her. That may not be smart...*

Lust snapped at Daye's synapses like a hungry tiger at the feel of Nikolai's hot breath on her ear. She knew he could sense her feelings, and decided to try something a little different. She let him sense the heat he was creating, even as she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

Daye looked uncomfortable. She let Nikolai see the battle she waged to hold her hormones in check. Licking her lips slowly, she responded in a husky whisper. "I... I was wondering... maybe I could offer services in exchange for services rendered. I'm a witch. Surely someone in that world, in that position, could use someone of my talents. Someone they could trust. And it could be a mutually... beneficial relationship."

Daye made no move to touch Kolya, but she let him see how his nearness affected her. She wanted him to believe that she was struggling to control herself, to make amends for what had happened before.

Nikolai felt the rising lust within her, able to bet that he could guess what 'mutually beneficial relationship' was supposed to imply. And it wasn't necessarily monetary profit, either.

"Really?" he forced a smile. "I'm sure a couple of my associates would be very interested in obtaining your services. But I am already spoken for in that regard, you realize." There, it was said. If she was going to try to seduce him now in a more traditional way, it was best to shoot her down early. The woman was a mother with a child, for crying out loud.

Daye smiled ruefully. "Of course, Kolya," she said. "That's not what I meant to imply at all. I'm not looking for lovers, but rather business associates." She smiled sheepishly. "I can't help my body's response to you, but I should think I can learn to control it. I seriously am more interested in what you have in your mind right now, rather than what you have in your pants."

Nikolai smiled, glad to hear that. Flattery would get her nowhere with him; he'd used that on more than one occasion back in the old days on a job. One had to be wary of flatterers. "I'm sure you are. But if you're looking to acquire our services, you know where to find me... and such matters are usually not discussed in a parking lot." That was the other thing he could tell. Daye needed to learn discretion, and fast. Otherwise she'd end up in prison or whacked.

Daye nodded contritely. "Of course," she said. "That's not at all what I intended for this meeting, but perhaps I could have you come by my shop sometime soon? There's a list of items I need to obtain for my work, and I can't pick any of it up at Witches 'R' Us."

Nikolai stopped for a moment to consider her request. “Maybe I’ll see what some of my associates can do if you need anything,” he said, getting in the car. “You know where to find me, obviously.”

Daye nodded. She stepped aside as Nikolai closed the door and drove off. In the long run, having Nikolai as an ally would be far more beneficial to her than having him as a lover would ever have been.

daye meets marcus

Firefly's picture

***Friday, March 16, 2007 around 1 pm***
***Amanda Blaise’s apartment/office***

Daye lounged on the sofa in the newly redecorated apartment, relishing the freedom. She'd finally managed to get out from under the control of the Council, and with this place she'd found a way to occupy her time and make a tidy profit. Drew was so completely enchanted that he no longer questioned her actions at all, and she'd managed to keep Sam at arms' length, although soon enough she would have to decide what to do about her brother and the brat. But all that was for another time. Today was a day for celebration. She'd only had the word out on the streets a couple of days, and her first morning had been busy. She'd sold a dozen charms and booked clients from around the area for more complex work in the coming days. Selling her services to the underground community was going to prove to be far more lucrative than she'd ever imagined. Now, with a break between clients, Daye could stretch out in the lushly appointed front room and imagine what else she'd be able to use the place for - what other appetites she might indulge in her own private hideaway.

Daye sighed, closing her eyes and indulging in a few moments of unadulterated fantasy.

The silver Rolls Royce Phantom slid serenely through LA traffic, its aura of power serving to isolate it from the chaos around it. Within that region of silence Marcus sat seething.

He’d spent the last few days attempting to find a way to protect an inspection team from the psychic detritus of his residence to be. Unfortunately he’d run into a few problems. Unsurprisingly the local covens had been leery of dealing with him. In magical circles the Dalton name was reasonably well known, as was their specialty.

On top of that it seemed that none of them wanted the slightest thing to do with anything formerly owned by Wolfram and Hart, despite assurances that nothing of substance remained in the building’s burnt out shell.

After two days of having doors metaphorically slammed in his face Marcus was having a little trouble holding onto his temper. So, having exhausted the various local covens he was now working through the solo practitioners. Something he should have done in the first place.

Trying to distract himself from his own anger, Marcus looked out of the window and was dismayed. The area did not seem particularly salubrious and he wondered if seeing this woman was at all wise. Onyx informed him she’d only recently set up her business but even the least capable sorceress should be able to afford premises in a more congenial part of town.

*Still,* Marcus thought, *It’s not like I have many options right now.* The car glided to a stop outside a small apartment building and if the building wasn’t quite as bad as the surroundings suggested it could be, it still wasn’t good.

As Onyx walked round the car to his door Marcus slid on a pair of darkened glasses. If Los Angeles wasn’t as warm as Hong Kong had been it was still bright.

“Thank you, Onyx,” he said as he stepped out of the car.

Marcus took one last look up and down the street before glancing at the car. It was out of place, perhaps even ostentatious, but he’d waited a long time for the wealth it represented and Marcus intended to enjoy that money, though he’d do so in less self-destructive ways than his father had.

Walking to the door Marcus ran a finger down the list of occupants before pressing the button for Amanda Blaise.

The security buzzer roused Daye from her fantasy, and she was conscientious enough to respond. Sliding off the sofa, she made her way to the entrance hall and pushed the button on the intercom.

"May I help you?" she asked lazily.

"Miss Blaise? My Name is Marcus Dalton. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time." Marcus hid his reaction to the woman's tone. It wasn't what he'd expected to hear at all, seeming far too self satisfied.

*Dalton?* Daye mused. She wondered if he could be a member of that family of necromancers. It seemed unlikely, though. What would any of them be doing in L.A. and what would he want with her?

"I presume this is about business," Daye replied, "so please, come on up."

Daye pressed the button to unlock the front door to the building and then waited for her visitor to reach her apartment.

*Well that went more smoothly than I expected.* Marcus had been kept on the end of an intercom once already. It was an experience he hadn’t wished to repeat. Onyx took up her usual position behind and to the left and Marcus made his way up. Reaching the appropriate door he raised his hand and knocked.

Daye swung open the door and stood just within the hall, sizing up her newly arrived potential client.

Marcus Dalton stood before the open door, and Daye was pleased with what she saw. He was nearly her height, lean and long limbed. He was dressed in the finest of designer suits that clung to him in all the right places and his expression was cool.

Daye could feel the dark power which emanated from the man, and her pulse rate sped up as she considered just what such a man might be capable of. Careful to school her expression before it gave away too much, she offered the man a smile as she stepped aside to allow him to enter the apartment.

Marcus took in the vision before him: tousled fiery red hair, an exquisite face flushed with health, and a voluptuous body clothed in dark silk that clung to her like a lover’s touch.

He inclined his head as much to hide the response he knew was in his eyes as to acknowledge her greeting. Beyond Miss Blaise, Marcus saw a dark and opulent apartment, richly furnished and completely at odds with the building it was situated in.

Marcus rapidly revised his opinion of Miss Blaise. Here was a woman who understood the finer things in life, a woman who surrounded herself with darkly beautiful things that matched her own dark beauty. Expecting a forty something has been he instead found a young beautiful sorceress of palpable power.

As Daye and Marcus continued to appreciate each other Onyx slipped quietly into the entranceway.

Daye glanced up at the movement behind Marcus and frowned. Following the man inside was a darkly beautiful young woman. In her initial fascination with Marcus, Daye had failed to notice her.

*Nice,* Daye thought to herself, leading the two of them into the living area, where a sofa and matching armchairs framed a comfortable seating area around a dark lacquered chest inscribed with runes.

"Mr. Dalton, please, be seated," Daye urged, her voice husky as she continued to study Marcus and his entrancing companion.

*Wonder what the story is there,* she thought to herself. *Bet it'd be a good one to curl up with on a dark and stormy night.*

Choosing to ignore the female companion for now, but acutely aware of both of them, Daye turned the full focus of her attention on Marcus Dalton once again. She kept a tight rein on her wayward hormones and smiled pleasantly.

"So, what exactly is it you are looking for from me?" she asked, striving to keep her tone pleasantly professional.

Marcus caught the frown as his hostess finally noticed Onyx and had to suppress a smile. The demon’s current form was quite stunning and Marcus found that faint hint of jealousy amusing.

Settling into his chair Marcus nodded at the professional tone and focused his attention back on business despite the obvious distractions.

“Are you familiar with the old Wolfram and Hart building?” Marcus felt no need to beat around the bush. Either Amanda would be willing to take the job or not. She might as well know the details sooner rather than later.

Continuing on, Marcus laid out his problem. “I’m looking to buy it. Despite its current state it’s a remarkably valuable property. Though if it weren’t for certain echoes it would no doubt have been sold by now. Those echoes are causing me difficulty. I need the structural soundness checked after the fire but getting a crew in there for more than a few minutes is proving… difficult.”

Daye's brows shot up. *Wolfram and Hart,* she thought, considering all the implications of his statement. The building had once been the most powerful nexus point for certain energies in the city, perhaps anywhere on the West Coast. Her mouth watered at the potential power such a place could wield for the right person.

"My, my, my Mr. Dalton," she practically purred, "that's quite an interesting dilemma. I assume you're looking for a ritual cleansing, at the very least."

Daye paused. She studied the man before her frankly once more. "I imagine it would be very difficult for someone of your... reputation to garner any co-operation amongst the magical element in this city. I'm afraid there are too few practical witches in and around Los Angeles."

Daye smiled brightly. "Lucky for you, I've recently gone into business for myself."

Marcus smiled rather wolfishly. "You're correct. The practitioners seem rather staid for the most part. However I'm not looking for a ritual cleansing, at least not initially. If the building doesn't meet my requirements I see no reason to simplify someone else’s problem. For the moment some simple warding charms would meet my needs. Appropriately disguised of course."

Daye nodded. What he was looking for would be simple enough. Still...

"Of course, warding charms would do the trick... or, if you were interested, I would be more than happy to accompany your crew on their inspection, and perhaps do one of my own," Daye offered, thinking that she would love the opportunity to get inside the building and get a feel for what kind of power still resided there.

"There's no telling, really, what kind of residuals might have been left behind by the beings that previously inhabited that place," Daye continued. "I can't assure you that even my strongest wards would be foolproof. Not without really knowing what it is you are dealing with."

Daye paused and shot the man a sultry glance. "I would hate for you to be less than satisfied with my work."

Marcus continued to smile as Amanda spoke. Finally he’d found someone who could meet his requirements. Someone who was not only not put off by what he needed but was actually eager to get inside and have a look around. Of course he couldn’t allow her to do that, not without suitable supervision anyway.

“For now I’m sure your… charms will be more than satisfactory. However if the matter does turn out to require your personal attention…"

Daye leaned forward, displaying her… charms for his perusal. She wet her lips. "If you were to require my personal attention, at any point, Mr. Dalton, I assure you we could work something out that would be most satisfactory to the both of us."

Marcus carefully kept his eyes on hers. Amanda’s aggressiveness so soon suggested a certain flexibility on her part. He appreciated that but it wouldn’t do for him to be distracted from why he was here.

“Please… Marcus.” Still there was always later.

Daye nodded. "Very well, then, Marcus," she said. "In any case, I can prepare the wards for you and have them ready by... let's say tomorrow morning. I could have them done tonight, but I'm afraid I've a few clients I've already committed myself to."

Daye shot Marcus a decidedly wistful glance. "More's the pity, because I'd love to offer you a sample of my charms right now, but," she glanced at the clock on the wall above the mantle, "alas, I do have an appointment elsewhere shortly. If you'd like to come by in the morning and pick up the wards, or..."

Daye turned her gaze back to Marcus' companion. "Perhaps send someone else to do so."

Marcus glanced at Onyx who had remained impassive throughout the whole proceedings, including Amanda’s very open invitation. No doubt she would have things to say once they were alone but for now she played her role perfectly.

“Unfortunately I have some other business to attend to tomorrow morning. How about if I picked them up at lunchtime?”

Daye frowned. She suspected Marcus Dalton was used to having just about everything his way. Still, there was no reason to object. "That will be fine," she agreed, rising. "And once you've completed your inspection, if you are happy with my work, please come back and see me. I find your situation fascinating."

Daye prepared to lead Marcus and his companion out of the apartment.

“Oh I'm sure we'll have much to discuss, Miss Blaise." They reached the doorway, Onyx stepping outside and giving the two humans a moment. "Thank you for your time..."

"It was my pleasure, Marcus," Daye replied, standing close to him in the narrow hallway. "Please, don't be a stranger."

He gave a slight nod and smiled, "I won't... Amanda."

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Allyana's picture

March 15th
10:30 pm

“What do you mean, he’s not in?” Alessa asked, disillusionment in her tone.

“Mr. Longwood is not in his room,” repeated the clerk in a bored tone. His eyes travelled up and down her with an bold stare that Alessa caught in full force.

“Thank you,” she said in a cold tone and turned to go, not bothering to answer his question about her leaving a message. It seemed her night wouldn’t go as planned.

With a defeated feeling she walked out the fancy hotel’s lobby, and signalled the valet to bring her car. She was waiting for him to come back when she saw a big black truck park in front of the building, the windowpane rolled down to show Ellis’ face.

He was surprised to Alessa there, and he was too tired to have another confrontation with her. He had spent the whole day being probed and tested. A mage had performed spells on him, a doctor had taken blood, urine and tissue samples, a neurologist had put him in every kind of machine imaginable to scan his brain, a psychologist had made him do several types of tests... until he had stormed his way out of the offices, unnerved to his utter limits. Mike had followed him closely, trying to placate him. He was probably worried he’d go kick children’s asses or something! But he had evaded Mike and finally got to his hotel; he just wanted a good glass of scotch and a hot shower.

He really wasn’t looking for another cat and mouse evening with Alessa.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cold.

She approached the vehicle and leaned on the window. “I came to see you,” she said doubtfully. “I can come back some other time, if you want.”

Ellis considered her for a moment. She looked worried and there was a vulnerable look in her eyes that softened him. Besides, there was the fact that he couldn’t deny her anything.

“No. Get in,” he answered tiredly, and opened the door.

Alessa looked back to where her car was approaching and told the valet to park it again, then she jumped into his truck. Ellis kept his window rolled down; if he just didn’t inhale her vanilla scent everything would be all right.

“Where are we going?” she asked, after driving silently for a couple of minutes. He hadn't even looked at her and she was starting to regret this idea.

“Some place I can keep my hands off you,” he said, matter-of-factly, still not looking at her.

Alessa leaned back on her seat, trying not to smile. It had been a good idea after all.

***

“What will you have?” he asked her once they were sitting in a bar. Noisy and crowded, it was the perfect place ‘not’ to get romantic in.

After she answered, he turned to the bartender and for the drinks. He waited till the man delivered the drinks before talking again. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Busy, actually. Bringing up the Armoury has been more work than I’d expected. We had the opening today.” She took a sip of her Piña Colada and smiled. “I hope things will get quieter now, I’m supposed to work part time only, you know?”

He just nodded and tried not to look at the enchanting line of her dress. She looked really good, better than she had since London. Although he had loved her dark hair, he couldn’t deny her new style suited her, and that dress was… something. Ruefully he turned his eyes to her face again.

“So, I’m seeing more of you again?”

Alessa blushed; she hadn't even called after the fiasco on the billiard table. Her only excuse had been that she was too busy, but in truth she hadn’t dared. She had behaved like a total tease, leading him on and then changing her mind. She looked evenly at him. The whole purpose of this meeting was to solve exactly that problem.

“You are,” she said, and kept his stare.

Ellis nodded again. “Good.”

He took a sip of his scotch and welcomed the burning feeling down his throat. Suddenly it was just too dry. Looking away, Ellis changed the topic. “I understand you hired somebody.”

Surprised, Alessa had to think of her answer.

“Hired? Oh, yes, that would be Oz. I hired him a couple of days ago, he’s going to take care of the gardens and whatever that may be needed, he’s quite handy. I sent a message to your company, to take care of his wages.”

“I know. The accountant sent me a memo.” He stirred the ice inside his scotch. “Do you think that was wise? Hire a stranger, I mean.”

Alessa felt irritation grow in her. This wasn’t going as she’d planned.

“I don’t understand how that’d worry you. I just hired a man to work at my house. I’m surely entitled to do that, right?”

Ellis grimaced at her cold tone, but wasn’t going to give in so easily. “I’m worried about you. You don’t know the first thing about this man and you’ll live right next to him!”

“Well, he’s a very good worker, and that’s all I’m worried about.” She breathed in to calm down, and then smiled sweetly at him. “Listen Ellis, I didn’t come to talk about Oz. I wanted to make amends about last time.”

“I’m serious, Alessandra. You don’t know anything about him, he could be a serial kil-”

Before he could finish she was holding his face still and her lips were desperately pressing against his. His body responded quickly to her touch, not caring in the least that they were in a very noisy, very crowded bar. All it cared about was how right she felt as she strived to meld into him, the feel of her teeth tugging on his lip, her tongue soothing it. The taste of her again was too much and his hands tangled themselves in her hair to steady himself and he was kissing her back. Then he moved away.

“What the hell are you doing?” His eyes were intent, and he didn’t miss the look of annoyance in hers.

“Kissing you.”

“Well, don’t.”

He backed away when she ignored him and tried to close the distance between them again. “I’m serious Alessa. Stop trying to shut me up this way, it’s not going to work.”

“That’s not-” she had the decency to stop before she actually lied to him. “Let’s not talk about Oz then. We have more important things to discuss.”

“That we have,” he nodded.

Pleased with his response, Alessa smiled, not a trace of coyness in her face. She moved against him once more, and raised her arms around his neck.

Trying to maintain a semblance of control, he drew away from her; searching her face, her body language. He had spent the last couple of days trying to convince himself that he had made a mistake the other night, that he had rushed her. And there she was, her looks and sense telling him she was ready for him.

“What about Chance?” he asked, taking her elbows and forcing her gently away again.

She looked at him levelly.

“Chance is dead. I… we are alive.”

Taken aback, Ellis stared at her for a few seconds. She was serious. Something had happened for her to change like this, but he wouldn’t tempt his luck trying to understand what it was.

He could feel his resolutions cracking and gave into the demands of his heart and body before giving her the chance to change her mind. Forcing her back against him, he took her mouth in a fierce kiss. Alessa surrendered immediately, her hands greedily running everywhere at once, trying to pull him even tighter to her. The kiss went on and on, their lips meeting frantically, their breath coming out in strangled gasps when they finally broke apart.

“Hey, fellas, get a room!”

The voice of the bartender reached them across the haze of lust that enveloped them. Without taking his eyes off Alessa’s, Ellis fished some money from his pocket and banged it beside their forgotten drinks. The sight of her swollen lips and her eyes dark with passion were more than enough for him to follow the bartender’s advice.

“We’ll do just that, pal,” he said, and guided Alessa out of the bar.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Allyana's picture

March 16th
Dawn

It was morning already; Alessa could feel the warmth of the rising sun against the heavy curtains. She stared up at the white ornate ceiling. There was a slight rustling of sheets. Cool lips pressed against the side of her breast, slowly ascending with even cooler hands to send a slight chill to her warm body, until at last they stopped in the crook of her neck, nibbling at her ear. Alessa concentrated on the blurry whiteness of the ceiling.

She would ignore this present situation as long as she could.

Last night she hadn’t been acting herself, which wasn’t so strange lately, and the words she’d said to Tash… and what she’d said to Ellis, what she’d done with Ellis, to Ellis… Alessa blushed. She had no idea what had possessed her to behave like that; and she wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

The cool hand pressed gently down on her breasts; she instinctively arched her back to fill it and a groan escaped her mouth. *This is why, this was inevitable,* she thought, and slowly, hesitantly, she lowered her gaze, looking over at the dark blond hair, the same rush of desire going through her body again. Her lover looked up with a mischievous smile, then continuing to gnaw playfully on her ear. Alessa pushed him quietly away.

“I don’t love you, Ellis…”

He tensed for the shortest second and his hand froze, then Ellis laughed lightly under his breath and Alessa thought she had imagined the tension. He shrugged.

“I don’t mind.”

He leaned back, taking Alessa with him and laying her head on his chest. She stiffened uncomfortably but then he started playing with her hair and she relaxed, eyeing Ellis’s body sprawled over the bed, his firm muscles stretching lazily.

“I have never done something like this before...”

“Do you regret it?” His hands moved in circles on her breasts, and Alessa fought the sudden violent shrill.

“Not really, but…” she croaked.

Ellis raised himself, leaning on an elbow, and looked down at her.

“Can't you just enjoy it?”

With a wicked look gleaming out from his blue eyes he dragged a finger playfully along her neck, tracing a path to over her collar bone, down her breasts and finally losing itself under the sheets.

There was a gentle breathing noise of contentment.

Encouraged with her response, his mouth found hers and she thanked whatever forces had made her decide to look for him in the first place, reasons still unknown. Her thoughts got no further though because he chose that moment to increase the pressure of his mouth until it felt like he was trying to draw her very soul out of her, causing her to buck beneath him.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back. She swallowed thickly as Ellis looked into her green eyes, heavy with lust.

“Isn’t this enough?” he asked.

The silence fell thick around her, making it hard to breathe as he waited for her answer. He was all manly and powerful yet the look of pure vulnerability was not quite hidden under the desire showing in his eyes.

Alessa gave in. Nodding, she pulled Ellis closer and snuggled next to him. She felt a slight chill, but it was all right… she could stay like this for a long time, with Ellis’ body against her.

That was what alarmed her the most.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Kaarin's picture

Friday, 16 March 2007
Alicia Wyldling’s Home
Evening

Classical music played softly as Nikolai filled another glass of wine for each of them. Alicia had been thrilled to see him as promised, but more than a little surprised to see the wine that he brought. Lacrima Christi, a well regarded and fine white wine grown in the region of Mt. Vesuvius. Then there had been dinner, he seemed a little distracted but had relaxed a bit after it began.

A small box appeared in his hand, which he turned over to her. “I have something for you, my dear.”

“What’s this for?” Alicia asked, turning the box over in her hands.

“Just a little way of saying ‘I love you and don’t want to lose you’. Go on, open it,” Nikolai urged, looking anxious to see what she thought of it.

The puzzled look on Alicia’s face was soon replaced by surprise as she opened the box. “Oh my god, it’s beautiful.” She turned over the necklace in her hands several times, admiring the gold necklace which looked like it cost several hundred dollars easily. “Kolya, it’s, I – thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Nikolai’s smile grew at the pleased expression on her face. It filled him with joy to see Alicia so happy. “I’m glad that you like it.”

Alicia stared at it in wonder before Nikolai leaned forward, kissing her softly. At first she was surprised, then gave herself over to the kiss, letting it deepen. She brought her arm up slowly around Nikolai’s neck as she leaned back, enjoying the feel of being close to him. Her breath began to quicken as her other hand absently set aside the new necklace on the table. Closing her eyes, she held him close, never wanting it end. When at last it did she was left breathless. Her eyes slowly opened to take in his face, reaching up to touch him his cheek gently.

Nikolai’s eyes met hers, getting lost in those deep green eyes of hers. “I love you, Alicia,” he said softly, before leaning down to kiss her again softly. Everything felt right with her around, he thought. It might be true that all he knew how to be was a criminal, but she still loved him despite it. Oz was right, that was something special, and he couldn’t lose it.

“I love you too,” she said when the shorter kiss broke. Running her fingers through his hair, she returned his gaze. The desire they had held back, taking it slow for so long, showed through. She pulled him down to her to kiss him passionately again before her lips parted, enjoying the feel of just kissing. A small moan escaped from her throat as she held him close to her body.

Nikolai pulled away, the two of them breathless as he studied her carefully. He didn’t want to rush her as Alicia wanted to take things slowly. Picking up the wine, he handed Alicia her glass. “You know, I was thinking,” he said, feeling her slight disappointment. “There’s going to be a production of Wagner coming up. Der Ring des Nibelungineid.

“The whole thing?” Alicia asked in surprise. “Good lord, what time does it start?”

“About six in the evening.”

“You’re kidding me? Is that all?”

It was an amount of shock that Nikolai could understand, the Ring was a long production, and the ideal was to see it at a theatre in Germany. Of course he would have to use his new connections to get tickets, but that was why they did it. He could understand the other gangsters better now, why you got into the life. It wasn’t just for you, it was for your friends and family. “No. You want to go.”

“Of course,” she smiled. The opera was their thing that they did, it gave them time to just be alone together. None of the other White Hats seemed to be particularly fans, so it gave them something special. Alicia finished off her glass, setting it aside again, still frustrated from earlier. She wrapped her arms around him, looking him straight in the eye. “So, what did I do to deserve all this?”

Nikolai tried to put the wine aside without spilling anything, a task made difficult by the feel of Alicia pressing into him again, the scent of her perfume. How to tell her that he was finally getting around to finding the way to tell her how much he cared? Instead he wrapped his arms around her again. “You know about what I’ve done, when we had that talk, and you didn’t leave. I’m just grateful for that.”

By way of answer, their lips met again. Soon the kiss grew deeper and more passionate, hands slowly moving over each other’s bodies. Alicia could feel the desire growing in her for this man, the man who brought her love that she never thought she would feel again. Reaching up she gently pushed his jacket off his shoulders before letting it rest on the couch.

Nikolai felt his breath grow ever so slightly quicker as Alicia’s hands undid his shirt, leaving a hand to rest on her thigh before reaching behind to undo her skirt. The room felt hot with the need as they worked to remove the barriers. “Wait,” Nikolai pulled away breathless, remembering that she wanted to go slow. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Alicia brushed her hair back as she looked at Nikolai. She knew he was concerned, and didn’t want to force her into anything. It just felt right, that now was the time. “Yes. I need you, Kolya.”

As they made their way to the bedroom, the last barriers between them disappeared, collapsing on the bed. Nikolai could feel Alicia’s passion growing within her, the desire increasing, the feelings of love and trust. It excited him and made him wish that she could share his feelings as well.

Soon the sounds of passion filled the air as they moved slowly together in rhythm. Nothing else existed for them, just the need they felt for each other, the desire to give pleasure to each other.

Later Nikolai felt Alicia next to him, pressing against his body as he held her in his arms. No words needed to be spoken as Alicia reached to turn off the lights, and they waited together for sleep to come.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Kaarin's picture

Saturday, 17 March 2007
Alicia’s Wyldling’s
Morning

Nikolai hummed silently to himself as he worked to prepare breakfast. Waking up before Alicia he’d lain there in bed just enjoying being next to her when he decided that he should do something else for her. So here he found himself, trying to cook. Years of being single and living on his own had taught him the basics, but nothing really spectacular.

He didn’t even blink when he felt the familiar feeling begin to creep up on him that his guide was there. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed the presence of the strange figure who accompanied him. “Elim, you’re bad,” he said, keeping his attention on eggs.

“You seem in a chipper mood today,” the tailor remarked seriously. “I was just wondering, though, if you’re sure you’re heading in the right direction.”

Nikolai resisted the urge to laugh. “Right direction with what?”

“Just the right direction. You’ve changed a lot since you’ve grown ill, if you haven’t noticed. So much like your old self, and at the same time... so much not. Why do you think this is?”

“Because I’m not fighting myself anymore.”

“Ah, but then why am I still here?” Garak asked.

Nikolai stopped. As much as he hated to admit it, he had a point. “You’re suggesting something.”

“Yes. Why, yes I am, Kolya.”

Shaking his head, Nikolai went back to cooking. He jumped at the sound of a voice behind him again, then became calm when he saw Alicia entering the kitchen, pulling a robe around herself. It felt refreshing, but there was something else there. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind he couldn’t put his finger on. “Good morning. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I was afraid you’d disappeared on me in the middle of the night,” Alicia confessed, walking over to stand next to him and looking pleasantly surprised. “I’m suggesting what?”

“Nothing,” Nikolai said feeling confused before he felt her confusion. He knew that the time would come when he had to try to explain the Finding to her, and now seemed as good a time as any. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner, but… how much do you know about the Xangyarj?”

“Just what’s in the Council records and what you’ve told me,” she replied steadily, wondering what he was getting at. “The Xangyarj are supposed to be a peaceful race, though the Watcher who got to live with them for a while got a distant feeling from them. Why?”

Nikolai sighed. “I have something to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else. We don’t normally discuss this with outsiders, and to be honest, we never fully trusted the Council.”

“Why not? I would have thought that they would like the Council.”

“Being on the side of good, yes,” Nikolai replied, looking confused of how to explain it. “But something about the Council and the Watcher made them nervous. Your person got mentioned in the journal – apparently someone who hated demons with a passion and could hide it well was sent.”

“You’re joking. To a race of empaths?

“Yes. We never fully trusted the Council, since the Watchers who came to visit him mostly knew him and shared his opinions. They didn’t need to say anything for us to feel the hatred. Possibly it was a small group, though, and that doesn’t reflect on the Council as a whole.” Although in all honesty, some of Daye’s words gave him pause to think.

“Do you trust me?” Alicia asked, with just a bit of hurt in her voice.

“With my life.”

“Then you know I won’t tell anyone.”

Nikolai nodded. It was, at least, true. “I’m going through the Finding. It’s a time of self-seeking, usually with some form of spirit guide figure – who may just be part of my subconscious. More than that, I’m not really sure about. Just that I have odd visions.”

Alicia nodded. Spirit guides. She vaguely remembered something from the first reports about that. Strangely enough, he had just given more information on it than they would give the Watcher there, even after living with them for years. Still something else nagged her, some of her worries.

“Is something wrong?” Nikolai asked, studying her carefully. He’d felt her growing a touch worried and concerned ever since he mentioned the Council. “You seem a bit distracted since mentioning the Council.”

She sighed. It was useless to try to hide her feelings, after all. Here she was berating the Council for sending someone to a group of empaths, while forgetting that she was dating one! “Have you seen Daye recently? She’s acting a bit… strange.”

Now it was Nikolai’s turn to nod. “Considering what she tried to do to me… now that you mention it, her underlying emotions seemed to be different after the first time that I met her. Or at the White Hat meetings.”

“I think we should discuss it with her friends.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Nikolai replied, seeing where she would be going with that. Try to get them involved. But still… She seemed paranoid about someone named Delancre.”

“Ambrose Delancre, the First Elder?” she started. Alicia almost didn’t tell Nikolai about the rumours, then she wondered how she could. He just said that he trusted her with his life, and she couldn’t tell him about the strange rumours? “There are rumours about him. Not much, just being involved in projects off the books – and I happen to know that he was involved in reprogramming a demon named ‘Ryan’.”

Nikolai raised an eyebrow, turning back to the eggs, flipping them quickly. His curiosity was piqued. “I think we have much to talk about, then,” he said. “Let me finish breakfast first, then we can talk, my dear.”

Alicia smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. “All right, I’ll let you get back to work.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***March 16th, 2007- Romania- 1:30 pm***

Polina Lautari cracked the door of her darkened house, trying not to make a sound. Slowly she stuck her head in, looking around. The entrance was bare; the only other creature there was her grandmother’s black cat, Selene. She put her finger to her lips as she eyed the cat, its green eyes glowing.

Lina slid in, inching the door shut. Her feet lightly crossed the floor towards the nearby staircase As she moved up about two or three steps, a light flashed on, illuminating the room. Polina squinted her eyes, but groaned at who was before her. Apollonija.

Apollonija stood at the bottom of the staircase, her daughter facing her. Lina groaned and muttered, “Here we go…”

“Where have you been?” her mother persisted, her hands glued to her hips.

Polina quickly turned away from her mother and said in a low voice, “Nowhere.”

Apollonija began following her daughter up the stairs , calling out, “Don’t give me that ‘nowhere’ bullshit. I’m your mother; I love you, and I care about where you go and what you do! You’re a bright girl, Lina, and I hate seeing you throw your life out! This is the second time I’ve caught you sneaking out this month-”

“Three times-”

“That’s not important! What is important is that you’ve been changing this past year, I don’t like it,” she continued.

Polina turned herself about and looked at her mother, sternly. “Oh, so you care now?” she spat.

It was evident that the teen years had hit Polina hard. Apollonija remembered her as a vibrant young girl, always concerned with her homework. She really hadn’t paid close attention to her other children’s teenage period, since their personality change wasn’t as significant. But Lina, their little girl, was now growing into a melancholy, depressed, and just… angry teenager.

Mrs. Lautari’s jaw dropped to ground as she stuttered out, “How, how, how could you say such a thing? I… I am your mother, goddammit! Of course I care! I’ve always cared! I never stopped! I can’t believe that you even said that!”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to bed anyways. No biggie,” Polina said dully, turning around again.

The hallway light flickered on, causing Lina to groan. Dmitri stood at the top of the stairs, his eyes tired as he yawned and asked, “What’s going on? Is there something I missed?”

Polina ran up the stairs, and as she passed her father, she said quickly, “It’s nothing!”

Her black sneakers pounded against the floor as she darted into her room and slammed the door, insuring that she had woken her grandmother and surrounding neighbors. She leaped onto her bed, ruffling the black beddings, and merely looked out her window, observing the Rumanian night sky.

Just A Bad Dream...

Meredith Bell's picture

***Friday, 16 March 2007 – 4:55am – Los Angeles County Hospital***

A blinding beam of light glared down at her from above, as bright at the sun and suspended just a few feet above where she lay.

Kate lifted her head an inch, feeling something hard and cold tied around her wrists and ankles, holding her down and restricting her movement. Looking down at herself she noticed that she was wearing a sort of paper gown, the kind that patients wore in hospitals before they went for an operation and at the back of her neck she could feel the tapes holding the gown in place.

She whimpered anxiously, hearing her own voice echo back, reverberating off the solid metal walls that surrounded her.

Kate twisted her head to try to get a better look at her surroundings. To her right she could see a trolley, half a metre tall made up of three shelves. On the top lay a white cloth with several medical instruments laid out in a row, their shiny metallic surfaces reflecting the overhead light. Kate strained her eyes to focus on the objects; some had sharp blades while others had hooks and levers and strange twists like a corkscrew.

She screamed loudly, feeling a sense of panic grow inside her chest which rose and fell with her increased breathing. The paper gown rustled in response and she could feel it ride up a little around the top of her legs. Kate squirmed around uncomfortably on the hard, cold surface upon which she was bound, tugging at her wrists and ankles desperately. She cried out again in frustration, whimpering and moaning like a small child in the grip of a nightmare.

Suddenly she felt a pair of hands press into her abdomen, feeling around, fingers prodding and probing at her vulnerable body. Kate gasped, hearing nothing but her frantic breathing which sounded loud and frightened as this unknown stranger examined her body.

“Please relax,” the stranger said suddenly, his voice gruff and distinctly male.

Kate tried to do as she was instructed but found it difficult to comply when she was being held there against her will. The man cleared his throat and Kate could hear the sound of him pulling on a pair of latex gloves, snapping them in place against his wrists.

“Relax,” he ordered again firmly.

Kate suddenly retched, gasping for her breath as she felt his hands suddenly move between her legs and push up inside her, moving around as they continued their examination. The assault wasn’t sexual, she could tell that by the way he touched her. It was impersonal, clinical, like the many examinations she’d had during her life.

Kate lifted her head again to try and get a glimpse of this stranger who was violating her in such a manner but the overhead light was too bright and all she could see was his tall, dark silhouette, the head of which was turned down in concentration on his task.

“No…” she moaned tiredly, as the man reached out and picked up one of the instruments from the trolley. “No…. please…”

The stranger placed a strong hand on Kate’s stomach, holding her pelvis down firmly as he pushed his hand back inside her again, further this time, his fingers prodding around invasively.

The clatter of surgical instruments being put down made Kate’s head snap to attention and she looked up again to see the stranger pull something out of her, something small with tiny arms and legs.

Kate’s head rolled back and to one side as she tried to see what it was that had been removed from her.

“Wait!” she called out weakly as the man wrapped the tiny motionless creature up in a blanket, and rocked it gently, gradually fading into the distance. “Wait!” Kate cried out again, louder this time, her eyes fixed on the man and the child that he held in his arms.

“No…” moaned Kate as everything around her also began to fade, “No… don’t go… don’t take him away from me…”

****

Kate awoke with a start, her breathing hard and ragged and her body glistening with perspiration. It took her a while to remember where she was as she stared at the unfamiliar surroundings of the hospital room, squinting at the IV drip that was still attached to her arm. Under normal circumstances she would have been allowed to go home, but according to the doctors she was severely underweight and dehydrated, not to mention the fact that she’d continued to haemorrhage heavily during the night. She would have to stay here for the next few days until they were satisfied with her recovery.

Kate sighed and turned her head to the side, burying her face in the heavily starched pillow. She felt cold and so she pulled the thin sheets around herself tightly. Darian said he would bring some of her things in the morning, clean clothes and pyjamas, that sort of thing. But until then she only had the thin cotton hospital gown that they’d given her the afternoon she’d been brought in. It gaped at the back, exposing her naked body underneath. She shivered again.

Dragomir watched her from the doorway quietly. He’d been mistaken when he’d thought she was an easy target. He’d wrongly confused her grief and sorrow for weakness and despite the seed of doubt and despair that he’d planted earlier he could see a glimmer of inner strength burning deep within her soul.

Focusing intently on the woman as she lay with her eyes closed, he made a small gesture with his hands, waving them in front of himself until his appearance began to shimmer and alter. His hair shortened and receded back from his forehead slightly, his eyes narrowed, his nose and face grew longer and more angular and his broad shoulders and muscular body twisted and contorted until they fleshed out into something more wiry and lean.

He couldn’t help but smile now, his harsh new features appearing more menacing and sinister than he could have imagined. She might have been strong at one time but she no longer had the support and succour of her family and friends; she was isolated and wholly alone. That made her vulnerable and susceptible to his powers and he knew that now in his new guise it wouldn’t take much more of an effort to push her to the very edge of reason.

Slowly he pushed the door open fully and walked inside.

Kate had almost fallen asleep again when she felt the presence of another person in the room. Slowly she opened one eye, half expecting to see one of the nurses. What she did see however forced a harsh gasp from the very depths of her lungs. Both her eyes flew open, wide with horror and she sat bolt upright, pulling the thin sheet up around her neck.

“No…” she said in alarm, shaking her head in disbelief as she slowly backed away across the tiny bed. “It can’t be… Logan?”

Dragomir smiled from behind his disguise. Her reaction was almost better than he had imagined it would be. His earlier contact with Catherine had confirmed that there was only man that she feared enough to turn her into the scared little girl he saw huddled before him now. Her first husband and wiccan, Logan Ultionis.

“What’s wrong, Catherine?” he purred, his voice and intonation perfectly matching that of her deceased husband. All the woman’s thoughts were suddenly turned to the memory of this man that had made her life a living hell for over two years, that only served to make his mimicry even more effective as he fed off those images inside her head. “Bet you never expected to see me again, hmm?”

Kate felt like her throat had closed in on itself, it was like she had lost her voice she just couldn’t speak. “I… I…” she choked out, her breathing strangled and forced as she beheld the form of her former husband. “No,” she said again with verve, “You’re not here, you’re dead… this is, this is just another dream…”

“Really?” he said viciously, his voice filled with deepest anger. “And you should know, after all you were the one who killed me.”

Kate shook her head insistently, “No, I didn’t… I didn’t want things to turn out the way they did…”

“And why not?” asked Dragomir, his crimson eyes burning into Kate from behind his transformation. Expertly he moved about in her mind, feeling her emotions rising and falling like a tide. “You got everything that you wanted, didn’t you? You goddamn slut.” He raised his hand and suddenly slapped her hard across the face. “I obviously didn’t teach you well enough did I? Well you’re getting yours now aren’t you?”

Kate’s eyes were wide in horror as she raised her fingers to her burning cheek. *How could this be happening? How could Logan be alive after all these years?* she thought desperately. “I didn’t want you to die,” she whispered meekly.

Logan brought his hand to bear across her cheek again, harder this time, causing Kate to cry out. She raised her arms to protect herself but he grabbed hold of them and slapped her again even harder for trying to resist him.

“Goddamn whore,” he spat, twisting her wrist painfully and ripping the IV drip from the back of her hand. “Let the punishment fit the crime I say, well you took everything from me with your lies and deceit, and now The Powers That Be are taking everything from you and it’s no more than you deserve.”

He suddenly dragged her from the bed and shoved her hard so that she fell on the floor, her head hitting the wall. Kate cried out again, her bare feet slipping on the tiled floor as she tried to regain her equilibrium.

“Now this seems familiar doesn’t it?” said Logan, the corners of his mouth turning up at the ends as he looked down at the woman as she sat half sprawled on the floor. “But look…” he made a mock gesture of looking around the room, “No one here to save you this time… I wonder why that is? Maybe because they all see you for what you are… a worthless little slut who can’t even bring a child into this world without it dying.”

Kate warily raised her eyes to meet those of Logan, this couldn’t be happening, it really couldn’t. Logan was dead; she’d seen his body herself. How could she have imagined it? The image of his dead body hanging from a beam in their parlour back at Sindell was one that still haunted her to this very day.

“You’re not real,” she said firmly, closing her eyes tightly and curling herself up into a ball, clasping her hands over her ears. “You’re dead, you’re not here, this ISN’T REAL!”

“Isn’t it?” growled Dragomir, slapping her hard a couple more times until Kate began to sob, her hands trembling as she tried to stop him from hitting her. This Logan character was a real piece of work he had to admit, he couldn’t have invented a better villain if he’d tried. “You’re a pathetic waste of humanity!” he said gleefully, pulling her up from the floor and shoving her hard against the wall.

“Tell me, how does it make you feel to have the man you love screw around with another woman? Does it hurt, Catherine? Does it make you sick, to think about their naked bodies writhing around together, to know that his hands have touched her body, pleasuring her in ways that only he knows how? To know that his lips have tasted her… kissed her, his tongue, his mouth… do you imagine the sorts of things they did together?”

He wet his lips tauntingly, letting his fingers comb through her long hair gently before suddenly grabbing a handful and twisting it tightly around his fist, pulling her head back painfully to look at him. “I bet he enjoyed it… that friend of yours, Daye… now there is a real woman.” Logan’s free hand pressed hard against Kate’s breast, his fingers rubbing her through the thin fabric of her gown.

“Not like you… so thin and plain, no wonder his eye wandered, why would he be interested in you when he could have someone like her?” His hand slowly moved down her body invasively, fingering every slight curve and plane until it rested on her abdomen.

“You’re not even a real woman… a real woman would be able to bear the child of her husband… a real woman would be able to bring a baby into this world without killing it. Face it Catherine, you ruin everything you come into contact with, you’re nothing more than a filthy parasitic disease.” He chuckled and looked down his nose at her, “And you’re not even easy on the eye anymore…”

“Let go of me!” said Kate harshly, pushing him away from her. “I don’t know why you’re here but I won’t let you talk to me like that! I’m not your wife anymore, you, you don’t have the right to treat me like… like…”

“Like the worthless little slut you are?”

Kate looked at the man hopelessly before turning and pushing the door to the room open, running out into the corridor.

“Run, Kate!” Dragomir shouted after her, laughing as his disguise suddenly melted away and he returned to his normal self. “You’ve nowhere left to run anymore,” he said quietly to himself, smoothing out his moustache as he followed her out of the room.

Starring Derren Brown as Logan

Voices

Meredith Bell's picture

***Friday, 16 March 2007 – 5:30am – Los Angeles County Hospital***

Kate staggered down the hallway, her bare feet slapping hollowly against the cold tiled floor as she ran. Logan’s parting words echoed loudly in the corridor but there was no one but Kate to hear them. From somewhere down the hall she could hear the faint voices of the nursing staff and the sound of a television set - empty, canned laughter from some sitcom filtering out into the corridors.

Kate headed in the opposite direction, half stumbling, half running as she made her way through the empty hospital corridors. The last thing she wanted was for someone to see her in this state, she felt so dirty… she could still feel Logan’s hands on her body and her face was red and sticky with tears.

She turned again and pushed open the heavy door that led into the bathroom, her bare feet sliding on the polished floor. The room was in darkness and Kate had to grope around, feeling for the light switch before the electric strip light flickered to life, chasing the shadows from the room.

Kate looked around at her new surroundings, not really knowing why she had come in here. She just wanted to be alone, to think, to get away from Logan, to get away from his cruel voice and hateful eyes. The bathroom was just as one might expect in a hospital all stark practicality and smelling of disinfectant, the scent was enough to make her feel sick and Kate bolted for the nearest stall, throwing the door open and vomiting violently into the toilet.

*How could Logan be alive? It doesn’t make sense… How did he know I was here?*

Coughing and choking, Kate knelt on the cold floor, lifting her chin up to rest it on the toilet seat. Shee closed her eyes…

"We talked all night. Your husband is quite the conversationalist."

Her eyes suddenly shot open as Daye’s words filled her ears. “No… no…” Kate moaned anxiously, stumbling backwards onto the floor.

”What the hell do I care? I fucked your husband... right here on that sofa... because I could... and I wanted to."[/i]

Kate cried out in desperation as Daye’s gleeful voice rang clearly in her ears. Kate’s eyes darted around frantically looking for the source, pressing her back against the side of the stall. It was like Daye was here in the room with her, gloating and triumphant. If she could only see her now, frightened and panicked, her eyes wild with fear as she cowered in a bathroom cubicle like a little girl... what a mess… what a mess…

"You couldn't even save your own daughter... or manage to keep your husband from wandering. Where has all your power taken you? Where was the great Sindell witch when Emma lay dying in that cold hospital room? You may have power inside of you, but you lack the conviction to use it."

Kate lurched out of the stall, the door squeaking on its hinges as it swung back violently. She landed on the floor outside, her knees scraping on the tiles as she fell roughly on the hard surface. She pressed her hands over her ears firmly, trying to block out the voice that jeered at her, mocking her, laughing…

“You slept with another man! You disgust me… Do you know what that makes you Kate? A whore… a cheap, dirty little whore.”

Kate winced at the familiar voice of her husband, whirling around as his harsh baritone replaced that of Amanda.

“No, no, no, no…” she continued to moan, holding her hands tighter against her ears, pressing so hard she could hear her pulse throbbing and the rushing sound of blood.

“She’s going into respiratory arrest, starting cardiopulmonary resuscitation… …we were unable to revive her… …a fatal cardiac arrhythmia. … … …I’m so sorry, there was nothing we could do…”

“No…” sobbed Kate, pulling herself up from the floor, grabbing hold of one of the sinks for support, feeling blood trickling down her scraped knees. “I won’t listen to you… I WON’T LISTEN TO YOU!”

The voices seemed to be coming from all around her, and Kate looked around in panic, her eyes wide with fear and wild with terror. *I’m going mad…* she thought in panic, her breathing hard and rapid in her chest. *Oh god… oh god! No… NO!* “Leave me alone!” she moaned pitifully, “leave me alone please.”

“…The decisions that you make in these next few days will mark a path for you that will decide your entire future.”

“You’re not even a real woman… a real woman would be able to bear the child of her husband… a real woman would be able to bring a baby into this world without killing it.”

“Emma’s dead… she died last night…”

“Stop it please!” Kate cried, staggering around, pressing her back against the solid porcelain edge of the sink. “Just… stop! Be quiet! STOP IT!!”

“Is that what you asked for? To be taken like the slut you are?”

”You're weak, and pathetic, and I'm not going to be the same. The bravest thing you've done in ages was taking a lover, and look how that turned out!"

“I feel so alone… I don’t know what to do anymore. I just feel like there’s no one I can turn to. No one who will understand.”

Kate continued to sob pathetically, holding on to the bathroom sink. Her face was sticky and red from her tears and she turned the taps on with trembling hands, splashing the cold water against her face.

“Please just leave me alone!” she wailed pitifully, holding her hands against her ears again. “Leave me alone!”

"Why? Why, what Kate? Why did your husband spend the night here with me... in this apartment, our bodies melding and battling in the darkness? Or why did I, your best friend, seduce your terribly hurt and distraught husband into doing so? Because that's what I did, you know. I saw how vulnerable he was. I saw the desperation in him, and I knew, with the right words, I knew I could have him. So, I did."

“Why do you always make such a big deal out of these things?”

“Why don’t you just leave me?”

“No… no…” Kate sobbed weakly, catching sight of her reflection in the mirror. She looked a sight – just like Logan had said - thin, pale and wasted.

*Stupid and ugly, stupid and ugly…* she repeated inside her head as she continued to stare into the mirror with such hatred and violent intention that the flat surface suddenly began to twist and bend until with a harsh CRACK it shattered into several pieces, falling to the floor with a tinkling sound.

Kate gasped in shock and took a step back from the destruction she had caused.

“Face it Catherine, you ruin everything you come into contact with…”

“Death… for people like us, it doesn’t have to be the end, just… a setback…”

Kate sank to the ground, feeling her body trembling and shaking uncontrollably with the force of her sorrow and pain. Her hands closed around a shard of the broken mirror, holding it tightly between her fingers, feeling the hard, sharp edges cutting into her flesh and the warmth of her blood as it ran over her hand and dripped steadily onto the floor.

*Just a setback… just a setback… death is not the end… not the end… not the end… Just a setback,* she repeated in her head again and again, feeling the sharp glass of the mirror cutting further into her hand. “It’s just a setback…” she said aloud, rocking gently to and fro.

Slowly she looked down at her bloody hands, holding the piece of mirror up and seeing her own startled reflection staring back. Her hands trembled as she turned the shard to one side, the sharp edge gleaming in the light, slowly she brought it down and held it against her wrist, closing her eyes.

“Death… is not the end…” she whispered to herself quietly, feeling a strange calmness settle over her. Her hand still shook and the glass pressed against her wrist, slicing into her skin and bringing blood flowing up to the surface.

Kate didn’t even hear the screams that sounded several minutes later, or the anxious voices that followed with people grabbing her and pulling her out of the bathroom.

For the first time in a long while, all she heard was silence.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***March 17th, 2007- Adriana and Dominika’s Apartment- 6:30 pm***

Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin city. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great...

Adriana sat in Darian’s lap as they watched the first minutes of the 1986 fantasy flick, Labyrinth. Drea shifted, sighing. Labyrinth was her all time favorite movie, but now she seemed bored with it. She grabbed the remote control and aimed it at the VCR, stopping the tape.

Darian looked at Adriana, confused. “Not in the mood for Mr. Bowie’s pants?” he asked, half kidding.

Drea gave him a nasty look and snapped, “Grow up, Dar. I’m not fifteen years old, for Christ’s sake.”

This caused the fae to be startled. His girlfriend was very religious, and never had he heard her use the Lord’s name in vain. Darian then questioned, his voice laced with concern, “Drea, are you okay?”

Adriana studied Darian’s expression. A combination of shock and worry was painted on his forever youthful face. Realization came to Drea then.

“Oh my god. Darian… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to flip out on you. I… I really didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what came over me,” she apologized profusely. Rarely did she get angry, and especially over something so insignificant.

Darian gave a half smile, and chuckled. “No big deal. I mean, we don’t have to watch this movie. There are other movies at my place. We could watch some tomorrow night. But I really have to go anyways,” he told her, moving from under her small frame.

Adriana looked at him curiously. “Where are you going?” she asked.

Darian grabbed his coat from a nearby chair and replied, “Gotta find Cole. I haven’t been out searching in awhile,” he finished.

A swell of anger filled Drea towards Cole. She resented the fact that Darian was spending more time searching for him than he was being with her. But withheld her feelings. All she said was, “Good luck.”

Darian smiled and they kissed gently. He left her apartment, leaving Adriana alone. She looked at the picture on her bed stand of her and Darian at the carnival from last month. The anger resurfaced, causing Adriana to rip the picture from the stand to the floor, shattering into a thousand jagged pieces.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***March 20th, 2007- Adriana and Dominika’s apartment- 9:30 am***

Adriana dragged herself out her room and to the kitchen, where Dominika sat at the kitchen reading the comic section of the newspaper. She looked up and smiled.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dom commented, only to have Drea stick out her tongue in reply. She plopped herself on a chair and rested her chin on her hand.

Dom rose from the table and searched one of the cabinets. She pulled out two items and walked back to the table.

“Vat vould you like for breakfast? Lucky Charms,” Dom held the red box with the picture of a leprechaun on it, “or Count Chocula?” She then showed the brown box with a cartoonish Dracula on it.

Adriana looked between the two boxes. Dominika shook the box of Count Chocula and commented, “T’is von has marshmallows…”

Drea shook her head and replied, “Both of them have marshmallows.”

Dom’s face fell and she urged, “T’ese vons are chocolate! Besides, t’is von’s mascot is from Rumania! Vouldn’t you like to support t’e old country?”

Adriana groaned and murmured, “Count Chocula.”

Dominika squealed with delight as she took out two bowls, two spoons, and their gallon of milk. She poured the cereal into the bowls and then poured the milk in them. Dom placed one of the bowls in front of Adriana and handed her the spoon.

“Eat up,” she encouraged, as she began eating her own.

Drea moved her spoon through the milk that was browning from all the chocolate. She looked at her sister and asked, “So what are your plans for tonight?”

Dom, after swallowing a spoonful of her cereal, replied, “Peter’s in town. I’m going to Vosrazhenie to spend some time vit him.”

Adriana nodded her head and continued, “I wanna come with you.”

This caused Dom to choke on her food. After calming herself down, she questioned her sister, “You vant to come vit me to a club full of mobsters?”

Adriana nodded her head and continued, “Yes, I do. I’m sick of staying in here, reading or watching TV. I like to have fun once in awhile.”

Dom scrolled her eyes back and forth before answering, “Drea, t’ose are your ideas of fun. Are you absolutely sure you vant to come vit me? Don’t you vant to spend t’e night vit Darian instead?”

Drea felt a rush of anger billow through out her as she sharply replied to Dom, “Fuck him! Is it illegal for me to have a night on the town if I feel like it? For once, I’d like to do something that doesn’t lead you to say ‘Vy don’t you spend some time vit Darian?’ Jesus H Christ!”

Dominika was in utter shock. She had never seen her sister get that angry before, and it was over a simple suggestion. The fact that it was Darian she flipped out over made her even more shocked. Dom could tell that he really cared for her, and that Adriana’s feelings were mutual.

“Vell, you don’t have to spend every night vit him. But are you sure you vant to come along?” Dom pressed, hoping that Adriana would decline.

“I’m positive. Are you going to throw any other attempts at me to stop me from coming?” Drea snapped.

Dominika shook her head. “Since you’re coming, I’m going to need to buy you a cocktail dress. T’ere is a difference from dancing at Club Vosrazhenie and mingling vit t’e bosses,” she told her.

Adriana rolled her eyes and said simply, “Whatever.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

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***March 20th, 2007- Club Vosrazhenie- 10:00 pm***

Adriana and Dominika walked up to the same line that was always at the club. The girls moved past them and to the bouncers, who recognized Dom immediately. Without hesitation, the Russians let the Lautari sisters in, much to the dismay of the impatient people in line.

Dominika led Adriana to the V.I.P. room upstairs on the balcony, where several Russians with faces of stone stood. Those bouncers also recognized Dom, at which they moved to let her and her sister in.

In the room, if you would call it, there was a view of the whole club. Black leather couches were scattered about, with a pool table circled by mobsters, some with cigars between their long fingers. One of them turned about, a wide smile spreading across his face.

“Dominika!” the Russian shouted, leaving his place at the table while running over to her. The two tightly embraced. Adriana looked at his face better. It was Peter. Dom passionately kissed him before breaking it off and turning to Drea.

“Peter, t’is is my sister, Adriana, if you remember back to Christmas Eve. I’ve decided to bring her along,” she told her boyfriend.

The Polyakov extended his hand and spoke to her in broken English, “A pleasure to meet you.” The two shook hands. Peter turned back to the group and shouted, “Brody, pribud’te!”

From the crowd, a tall, slightly built man emerged. His ice blue eyes radiated despite the multi-colors that flooded the room. He was definitely handsome, from what Adriana could tell.

“Nikki, Adriana, t’is is my old brother, Brody. Khe’s running t’e family business vhile papa is on trial back in t’e ‘old country’, as our fat’er likes to put it,” Peter announced.

Brody chuckled and commented in almost perfect English, “He’ll get off. As long as Putin doesn’t get involved.” At this, both Polyakovs spit. Adriana gave a weak smile as which Brody plastered on his own.

“I am Brody, you are Adriana as my brother has mentioned,” he said, shaking Adriana’s hand.

Her smile increased. “Nice to meet you.”

Peter, with his arm wrapped around Dominika, spoke to Peter in quick Russian, “Ya namerevayoos’ posvyatit’ moyoo noch’ v pol’zu moej podrugi. Ya budu toskovat’sya bez?”¹

The older Russian sighed and thought about his comment. “Eto- moe mnenie, chto Vy ne budete. No biznes podzyvaet zavtra kanun. Salokov pokazal neloyal’nost’ k pape. Pojmite?”² Brody responded.

Peter nodded his head and immediately said, “Konechno, konechno,”³

At this, he and Dominika left. Adriana gave a slightly confused look and questioned, “Care to explain?”

Brody shook it off and merely responded, “Business. Even ven relaxing I’m on call tventy-four/seven. It’s all apart of the job.”

Drea walked towards edge of the balcony, which oversaw the entire club.

“And what exactly do you do, Mr. Polyakov?” she asked.

Leaning upon the black metal railing. Following her to her spot, Brody spoke, “Ve’re in the fishing industry. Clubs are a side project.”

Adriana pursed her lips and interrogated him, “What do you take me for, an idiot? Fishing industry owners aren’t put on trial.”

Brody chuckled, “Too smart for your own good.” His eyes studied the gypsy, who was clad in a midnight black cocktail dress that cut short four inches above her knees, which clung to each delicate curve of her. The Russian moved his icy blue eyes to the crowd before they returned to Adriana.

“You don’t look like you’re into this scene,” he commented. Drea raised her eye brows at his statement. Brody continued, “Those people down there. All of them are junkies or vanna be junkies. You seem… nice…”

Adriana scoffed. “Nice? That’s it?” She spat. Brody smirked.

“Vould you rather be like the girls in the back?” he asked, motioning to the couches.

Drea turned to see a slew of girls there, in short skirts and barely there shirts, patiently waiting for a night with the mobsters. Her big brown eyes focused on Brody.

“Any reason why you’re not over there, getting into one of their skirts?” she asked.

Brody snickered at the comment and replied, “Those girls? Not a chance in hell. If I vant a mistress, I vant her to have a level of decency.”

This comment caused Adriana to think. “Mistress? So there’s a little missus at home…” She then searched his hand for a ring.

Brody laughed at this and explained, “I have a serious relationship vit my girlfriend, Yulia. Ve have a son together. She’s expecting a ring soon, vhich she vill get, but not now…”

He continued to observe her when he questioned, “Does a pretty girl like you have a pretty little boyfriend?”

At first, Darian popped into head, his smiling face radiating. A voice within Adriana called out for her to run back home to see him. But he was quickly pushed aside.

“No one of significance. Why do you ask?” she replied, with a flirtatious curiosity.

Brody continued to smile. “I vould like to take you out for dinner, just to get to get to know you better,” he proposed, his hand stroking her cheek lightly.

Adriana’s large brown eyes widened at his offer. She looked away from him for a moment, moving away his hand before returning the gaze.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”


Brody Polyakov is played by Mathieu Kassovitz (with blue eyes)

¹ "I’m spending the night with my girlfriend. Shall I be missed?"

² "I won’t think so. But business beckons tomorrow eve. Salokov has displayed disloyalty towards papa. Understand?"

³ "Of course, of course."

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

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***March 25th, 2007- Biltmore Hotel- 1:36 am***

Aggressive groans filled the hotel room as the headboard of the bed bounced off the soft yellow walls. The glow from the light from the nightstand illuminated one-fifth of the room to show a number of scattered clothes lying about. As the bed shook more violently, the groans and moans became louder.

Brody’s eyes were slightly shut as he sent a rough thrust into his partner, his small golden cross dangling from his bare chest, sweat glistening off the built curves. His breaths were heavy as he murmured incoherent words in Russian. With a gasp for air, Brody collapsed onto the bed, his chest moving up and down.

Adriana was heavily breathing, her faded golden skin soaked in sweat. The roots of her chocolate brown hair were drenched as she ran her hand through it and sighed, pleasured. Her dark brown eyes, which were painted with heavy black make up, gazed upon Brody as a seductive, yet wicked, smile came across her face.

The blue eyed Russian leaned over to the gypsy and smiled at her. He began to lightly trace circles on Drea’s exposed skin which wasn’t covered by the silky white satin sheet as spoke, “Something tells me, that this vas your first time…”

Adriana raised her hand and began to stroke his dark brown hair, which stuck to his head. She licked her lips slowly as she replied in a low voice, “You’ve had experience with virgins before, I take it.”

Brody fixed himself, leaning closer to Drea’s face. He gently kissed her, taking pleasure from her velvet tongue. The Russian pulled away and smiled at her. “I thought you vere a pro,” he reassured her.

To the old, prudish Adriana, this statement would offend her deeply. But her radical personality change accepted this comment with great esteem. She lifted her head up and passionately kissed him, her tongue attacking his. Brody pulled away again, now kissing Drea’s soft skin. He looked up and smiled, before returning to his position of hovering over her.

The Russian laid his left arm around Adriana’s covered waist, while his right one supported him. Brody caressed her face as he spoke softly, “You are an amazing voman, Adriana. Vhich has me thinking…” He caught sight of Drea again and gave a quick lick of his lips, “I vant you… to be my ‘close companion’, if you follow vat I’m saying…” he continued, waiting for a reply.

Adriana gave a low chuckle as she leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Her eyes returned to Brody as she asked, “A mistress? You’re kidding, right? You have to be…” His expression clearly indicated that he wasn’t.

Drea sighed. Brody was a very powerful man, especially now since his father was busy with his trial. She would be stupid to pass up the opportunity of being his mistress. Besides, even though it was her first time, she could tell he was an amazing lover.

“I’d be honored to be your ‘close companion’. But let’s lay down some guidelines: I don’t wanna be treated like just some stupid whore that you can just come to every time you have a hard on. I want to be treated as an equal, the equivalent of a girlfriend. This means I want you to take me places, and not show me off like a fucking trophy. Don’t consult me just about sex, get me involved in actual intellectual conversations. Got it?” she demanded.

Brody smiled as he kissed her softly and murmured, “You vill be a great ‘mistress’…”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***March 25th, 2007- 1318 Poplar Avenue- 8:36 am***

Adriana walked down the street of early morning LA, a wicked smile across her face. Her dark brown hair was pulled up loosely in a clip, allowing a good amount of stray hairs to waver in her face. Her forest green dress, that barely covered her, made her appearance even more bizarre. But she really couldn’t care less of what others thought of her. Drea had just lost her virginity less than twelve hours ago, and she felt terrific.

As she walked up the steps, she heard a familiar voice call out her name. Drea groaned at who it was. Darian. She reluctantly turned around to him. He had obviously been looking for Cole again.

Adriana asked carelessly, “What?”

Darian was surprised. He hadn’t seen his girlfriend in over a week, and he assumed she would have been in a better mood to see him, as he was to her. But Adriana’s temper had shortened, for what reason, he knew not.

“You’re dressed up… what for?” the fae asked politely.

The gypsy turned away. She didn’t want to talk with him, but she replied, nonetheless, “Nothing involving you.”

This stung Darian. He ran up after her, going on, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around a lot, but there’s been a lot going on. Cole has seemed to disappear off the face of the earth, so that’s complicated it a bit. But please don’t feel rejected, Drea. You mean a lot to me, and I don’t wanna lose you.”

Adriana’s head was about to burst from his sappy speech. She looked into his violet eyes and spat, in a harsh tone, “God, you’re such a little bitch. ‘Wah wah wah, I can’t find some loser teenager and my life sucks and my girlfriend is thinking I’m rejecting her.’ All you do is complain! Get over yourself!

“And as for us… it’s just not working for me anymore. I have better things to do than stick around with you and watch lame ass 80’s flicks and go to cheap ass carnivals. Here’s a clear answer for you: We’re over!”

Darian stood in complete and utter shock. The fae really didn’t need this right now; his life was already crazy and fucked up as it was. The last thing he needed was his girlfriend calling him pathetic and breaking up with him.

All he did was shake his head and mutter aloud, “You can’t be serious… I mean, what… what went wrong…?”

Drea felt like banging her head against the building. “You’re not taking the ‘get over yourself’ part very seriously. Work on it, and maybe you’ll get yourself another gal,” she said unemotionally and walked into the building, ignoring the heartbroken fae.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***March 30th, 2007- Adriana and Dominika’s Apartment- 5:17 pm***

Dominika walked to the door of her apartment, Sashenka at her heels. She had been job hunting all day, and finally managed to snag a job at a local dance studio that taught young girls. Dom opened the door, only to see a vast amount of boxes scattered about the floor. The small dog scurried inward as Dom observed the boxes.

From the back room, Adriana appeared, but her ensemble caused Dominika’s jaw to drop. There she stood in an extremely short dress, the blood red material screaming on her. Drea wore black fishnet stockings underneath, with matching blood red stilettos. Her wrists were completely covered with gold bracelets, her neck identical except her Romani symbol necklace from her mother and her silver cross from her aunt were missing. Adriana wore heavy make-up with her hair pulled up neatly.

Dom managed to speak, “Vat… vat is going on?”

Adriana looked around and smiled. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m moving out. I got a new bitch and he got me this gorgeous apartment not far from his,” she replied proudly.

Dominika shook her head. This was not like her sister at all. She barely could believe that Drea and Darian had broken up, but to find a new boyfriend so quickly? *Very ‘Jennifer Lopez’ of her,* Dom sighed when it hit her who it was.

Adriana didn’t have to say anything about who he was. Dominika was with Peter the other night when he mentioned Brody finding himself another woman, and planned on having her move into a plush apartment near his penthouse. All she had to do was put two and two together.

“It’s Brody, isn’t it? You’re vit Brody…” she said softly, shell shocked. They had only met ten days ago and they were moving along quickly.

Drea groaned, but went on, “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, it is. He’s handsome and charming and he holds a high position in his business. I’d say I found myself a keeper.”

Dom shook her head slowly. Although she was younger, Dominika had matured much faster, and had a good amount of street credit and knowledge to get her along. She swallowed hard.

“Adriana… Brody is not t’e best catch in t’e vorld. You don’t know him as vell as I do, and he is not a man you vant to get involved vit. Trust me, Drea, I know t’ese t’ings,” Dom struggled to say.

Adriana rolled her eyes at her younger sister. She stuck her tongue in her cheek and chuckled, which boggled Dominika. Drea then retorted, “I see how it is; you’re jealous. Jealous, that I snagged the good Polyakov. You got stuck with the coke addict and the womanizer, while I got the successful one.”

A wave of disgust and rage went through every pore of Dom. The urge to strangle Adriana was strong, but Dominika held back. Instead, she calmly replied, “Adriana… Brody already has a girlfriend. He’s in love vit her. She bore him a son. You’re an object to him, Drea. I’m not saying t’is to make you jealous; I’m saying t’is because I care about you. You’re smart, Adriana. I don’t vant to get hurt.”

Rage shot through Adriana’s system as she heard Dom’s truthful words, causing her to raise her hand, and, within the blink of an eye, moved it across her sister’s cheek. Dominika staggered back, shocked. Drea’s chest moved up and down, furious.

After an awkward moment of silence, Adriana spoke in a shaky tone, “I’m moving out Dom. The place is yours.”

The elder Lautari moved past her sister and slammed the door behind her, rocking the contents of the room. Dominika stood, alone with her barking dog as her only companion.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***March 30th, 2007- Mount Vernon- 8:36 pm***

“Enzo, hurry up or we’ll be late!”

Lorraine Jones-Lautari fixed her shoulder length brown hair in the mirror of her hallway wall, standing out against her pastel outfit. She smoothed her pure white caprice, which blended with her pallid pink shirt. Mrs. Lautari walked into the living room and grabbed her matching white jacket. Although spring had come early this year, she still needed a light coat.

As she fixed her faux wicker sandals, she called out again, “Enzo, hurry, otherwise we’ll get a bad seat!”

Enzo Lautari came down the staircase, buttoning the last button of his dark blue shirt. He wore black jeans, with casual shoes. The aging gypsy sighed as he grabbed his black coat, looking onto his wife.

“You are making such a big deal over t’is! Tell me, vat is t’e big deal over a local dance recital?” he questioned, looking for his keys.

Lorraine grabbed the keys from the counter and put them into her husband’s hand. “We promised Jákob and Maureen that we’d come. It’s special to them; it’s their granddaughter’s first recital. She’s Michael in the production of Peter Pan,” she explained, closing all the blinds in the house.

Enzo gave Lorraine a curious look as he waited by the door when he questioned, “Vasn’t Michael a little boy?”

Lorraine walked over to him and smiled. “It’s being pulled off by girls twelve and under. Use your imagination,” she told him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Just then, the phone rang. Lorraine groaned and said aloud, “Ignore it, let’s go.”

Enzo walked over to the cordless. “It might be my job. If I’m lucky, they’ll give me a few veeks off in spring. T’at vay, ve might get to go on t’at trip to Central America like you vant,” he said wryly, grabbing the phone.

The aging Lautari pressed the “TALK” button and said politely, “Hello?”

There was a pause from the other end, causing Enzo to believe that it was a telemarketer. Before he could hang up, a familiar voice spoke, “Uncle Enzo?”

It was Dominika. Enzo smiled a little. She wasn’t his favorite niece, but she was family. He replied in their native tongue, “Dominika, my dear, how are you? You don’t sound well.”

He heard her breathe heavily over the phone before she responded, “Uncle, there is something wrong with Adriana…”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Simryn's picture

****** March 17th 2007 – 8:25 a.m. - Simryn’s Apartment ******

Sleep had eluded her the past few nights, more than ever before or so it seemed. Simryn’s eyes fluttered open and for a moment she could only stare up at the ceiling. For the past week she had done nothing save hide from the world, from Vivek, and most of all from herself. Deep inside she knew her Mothers would be ashamed of her sulking, but all that time alone with nothing but the sound of her own breathing for company had brought her to certain realizations. Of course, the dream from the other night had helped to bring her out of her stupor as well and now she would face the world again. She had reacted with the foolishness of a child, to give up so easily on something so dear to her. At the first obstacle she had given way and there was naught to blame but her pride.

But if there was one thing her people believed in it was karma, and with this belief Simryn was able to pick herself up and go on because she knew that no matter what, the steady turning of the wheel would bring her love back to her. In the meantime she would be resolute and do what she was meant to, made to do. Fight the evils of the world, protect the innocent from wrong and uphold the values of honor, justice and love.

The Kshatrani snorted, shaking her head at her own conceited thoughts. She was a warrior, a killer; one with certain enhanced skills certainly but nothing more than that. And in her time she had fought many battles, killed many people as an instrument of the Gods rather than an individual with thoughts and beliefs of her own. The world was not the only thing changed, Simryn thought wryly. Once upon a time she would never have questioned who she was but now… Her mind turned back to the task at hand. The whole day after her dream she had spent in convincing Vivek to help her find the demons that had been revealed to her by Vishnu. He still wanted to continue the search for her premie, certain that the next man or the one after that was sure to be the one and when she’d told him of her intentions he had adamantly refused to let her endanger herself fighting some unknown evil.

She had told him of her dream… of the child and those like him who would suffer if someone didn’t put a stop to it. Though he was a hardheaded man, Vivek could not argue against the truth behind her visions or against the undeniable fact that she had been made to protect and kill. He had done it, as she had known he would. It had not been an easy job, and one she could never have done without him and his knowledge of this world. So while Simryn trained her body, honing it into the weapon it had been, Vivek went about the city asking questions that led him closer and closer to the darkness till finally he discovered the identity of her enemy.

* * *

“They are a small order, made up of regular folk dabbling with dark magics far beyond their control. I heard that a man who claims to have the ability to grant immortal life and material wealth beyond dreams leads them, preying upon their greed with his elusive promises no doubt. Somehow they’ve managed to trap Shadow demons, called from another plane, in a building built upon consecrated ground. To raise enough power for their leader’s spells, the followers have been feeding their own children to the monsters who can only consume the blood of innocents…”

Though Vivek paled, the grooves bracketing his mouth deepening, he continued to tell her the information he had gleaned from the mystical underworld. Simryn’s eyes were dry; she could not weep for there was always much evil in the world and tears would avail her nothing. The only thing she could do was fight it, as best she could, until her own inevitable death.

“Have you considered the danger?” Vivek asked furiously at the end of his report. The data he’d found made him feel more and more uncomfortable with the fact that the Kshatrani thought she could go into this fight alone.

‘I always consider the danger,’ she said soothingly into his mind, trying to relay a feeling of confidence and calm that she didn’t really feel. ‘You must not worry, I have fought many men, many times before and I know how to deal with them and their demons. Moreover, Lord Vishnu will not let any harm come to me while I am on his mission.’

Vivek did not look assured. “I’m coming with you.” This time when she would have argued he gave her a fiery look. “You may think you can face this alone, but I am coming with you whether you like it or not!”

He stormed to his room to look for his own weapons that he had been trained in from the time of his birth, to be the protector of the Lady Simryn. He too had been born into duty, and he would fulfill it to the end. And while she would probably never admit it, Simryn was proud of Vivek’s devotion, happy with the knowledge that if anything happened, at least one person would remember her.

She had never been a solitary warrior, though what she was had always separated her from those she fought with, but while Vivek was passionate he was unskilled, or so she thought, and she could not allow him to endanger his life in what was now her war. On silent feet, Simryn went to her own room kneeling before a yet unopened crate to carefully unwrap her sword, swathed in soft oilcloth and its sheath, the leather softened by time. In as much space as her room allowed, Simryn performed her deadly exercises, feinting and dancing with the tulwar that was like an extension of her body. Light flashed in brilliant arcs through the room as the sharp blade reflected the morning sun and Simryn let her body flow with the movements of war that were ingrained upon her very being.

Assured of her skill, the Kshatrani slipped into the war faring attire that she was used to and could easily move in. A form fitting black chemise that laced up at the back, leaving her midriff bare, and flowing black pantaloons tightening at her ankles. With precise movements she tied on her sword and the small kattar to her hip. Her long black hair fell in lustrous waves down her back and the final touch was to line her eyes and mark a long black line down her forehead with surya. It was a ritual her Mothers had performed many times before she went into battle, but this was the first time she was doing it for herself and her hands shook a little unsteadily as she traced her eyelids with the kohl. Looking into the mirror, Simryn saw the same reflection she had seen hundreds of times before as she prepared for the singing of her blade at the taste blood.

* * *

The door creaked and Simryn swore under her breath, cursing her luck as Vivek slammed through his door and caught her in the act as it were. She’d obviously been trying to leave without him and he did not appreciate it one bit as she could tell by the reddening of his face as he approached her angrily.

“What do you think you’re doing?!?” His yell reverberated down the hall and Simryn rolled her eyes, wondering why this scene was starting to seem so familiar.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Simryn's picture

***** March 17th 2007 – 1:47 p.m. - Nikolai’s Apartment *****

Nikolai had had it, as he felt the familiar feelings of annoyance, aggravation, and anger building up outside the hall. It seemed an almost regular occurrence between Simryn and Vivek most days, but now that he had other duties to officially attend to, the last thing that he needed was one of their arguments boiling over. *I'm going to shoot one of them if this keeps up, I swear,* he thought. Picking up his pistol, he holstered it in his jacket before stepping out into the hall. *Okay. Things just got interesting.* The sight of Simry and Vivek he had expected; the sword strapped to her waist, he did not.

"Excuse me," Nikolai raised his voice while repeating it several times until he got the attention of one. "Just what is going on with you two?"

Hearing the familiar voice Simryn could tell her neighbor was feeling extremely irritated and she shot a baleful glare at Vivek who glowered back before crossing his arms and turning away to address Nikolai.

“I don’t believe it’s any of your business,” he said, pushing Simryn behind him as if to protect her although she soon realized it was more the long blade bound to her side that he was trying to hide.

Incensed with both men, and with the images of her vision still vivid in her mind the Kshatrani slipped out from under Vivek’s arm. Without deigning either of them a glance, she pushed past and stalked down the hall toward the stairs.

"I'm making it my business," Nikolai shot back. Here he was, not even fully connected to the family yet and already he was starting to take matters like this into his own hands. It certainly would, if nothing else, show balls. Hopefully not of the same, stubborn type that got men like Dutch Schultz whacked - men who were legends even after their heyday. "You two have been telling me the same lie about your relationship since you first showed up. The amount of rage and annoyance between you two is more than a little disturbing. Quite frankly, I'm tired of it. I'm sure the Muskniks are tired of it as well." *And who gives a damn if Lewis tired of it?*

He gave a quick glance in Simryn's direction, to see her still going on. "Do you need any help?" he called after the woman. He knew that look; it was a dangerous look, the kind of look that a woman got on a mission.

At the sarcastically pointed question Simryn rolled her eyes. Did all men think women needed their help? At the moment, it seemed her “guardian” needed help more than anything else but she refused to get involved.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you are insinuating,” Vivek said coldly, his lip curling up at a sneer as he straightened to his most commanding height, which unfortunately was still a few inches below Nikolai. “The relationship between us is private and if you know what’s good for you you’ll stay out of this.”

At the not so subtle threat, Simryn barely refrained from smacking her hand to her forehead in exasperation; the man was an idiot.

If there was one thing that Nikolai did not like about being threatened, it was when it wasn’t going to be subtle at all. There were ways things were done, and being blatant usually wasn’t the best. He looked at Vivek, then to Simryn, then finally back to Vivek. There was one way to show how little he cared for the threat.

Turning away from Vivek, he walked in Simryn’s direction. “If you want any help, just let me know.” He relished the annoyance and rage coming from Vivek. That man would now know just how threatened he felt. “After all, two are often better than one in a fight, are they not?”

Well, it wasn’t as if she had been trying to hide her identity that seemed to be Vivek’s prerogative these days, but Simryn refused to hide what she was. The flash of her green eyes and the arrogant tilt of her chin as she turned to face Nikolai spoke more eloquently than words could have: she would not be intimidated, especially not by the truth.

As Nikolai walked toward Simryn, her fathomless gaze raked over his lithe form and she wondered why she had never before noticed the aura of raw aggression he exuded. With some disgust she realized that she had been too caught up in her own self-pity to be aware of those around her. Dropping her gaze, the Kshatrani turned, giving Nikolai a sidelong glance as he came to stand motionless beside her, awaiting an answer.

“Perhaps,” she said softly, the single word was filled with possibilities. Mostly though she was giving him the chance to withdraw. He hadn’t made any promises and she didn’t expect any. In truth she was hesitant to allow him such proximity. Those who fought side by side needed to trust each other, and for that trust to grow there needed to be some intimacy - a baring of the soul in a ways. Simryn wasn’t sure if she was ready for that yet. But maybe he did not view the concept of allies as she did; much was different in this time so perhaps she could still keep her secrets, and he his. With a sigh, Simryn resumed walking, leaving Nikolai to follow… if he still wanted.

Nikolai smiled in triumph at having foiled Vivek. *Are you sure you aren’t more excited about getting to do some good?* Of course the prospect of being able to do something worthwhile made him glad as well, but was Vivek really the main thing? Or was he allowing the annoying man to make him lose sight of what really mattered?

He could tell that she was willing, but hesitant. Unease at help from a stranger? Perhaps. Some small level of paranoia was always good. But it would still be good to get out there, to get some action that wasn’t related to the life. Still he gave her another glance over, standing there with her sword.

It made him wonder about this attractive woman with her strange accent even more. Something seemed out of place about her, like she didn’t belong. That she was standing there with a sword and the way she was dressed told him she was ready for combat; her armament told him the prey may very well not be human. Still he hadn’t met anything that couldn’t be killed with a sufficient number of bullets in the right places.

“Lead the way,” he motioned towards the steps. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Heather's picture

Thursday, 22nd March 2007 – 3:23pm
1318 Poplar Avenue

Tash was feeling more positive about today’s meeting than she had been just after the last one. Phone calls during the week had elicited at least some responses so this time she knew there’d be more than just her and Galen rattling around. She’d put together a dossier on what she knew so far of Ambrose Delancre’s LA operations, including the abilities of all his troops, his involvement with the Ghosts, and the observations she’d made while training and patrolling with Anabella Graziani. During the week they’d rooted out some large nests of vampires, clearing out a significant portion of the city. If they kept up at this rate, they’d soon have LA emptier of vampires than the Brotherhood’s reign of terror had engendered.

She nodded slowly to herself. Yes, it was better that most of the White Hats members only found out about her agreement with Delancre now, when she had more to show them than mere promises. Besides, it was still only an agreement in principle. Delancre understood that she needed time to gauge the reactions of the other White Hats. She’d been clear to him that theirs was not a hierarchy so much as a collection of equals. If most of the others didn’t want to take up his offer – despite its obvious advantages – then she would have to abide by that decision.

So she’d spent all night last night collating the information she had gathered, and presented it all in neat folders for everyone’s perusal. Now the folders lay in a neat stack on her coffee table. Tash surveyed them with some pride. She looked forward to seeing the excitement on the others’ faces when they realised what a fantastic opportunity this was. Alessa’s rejection didn’t faze her – of course Alessa was prejudiced against the Council now. But the troubles twenty years ago with Morris hadn’t really stemmed from the Council. It was Morris who’d flaunted their regulations and brought doom upon himself. And Tash was sure if Alessa would only allow her memories to be brought to the fore, she’d see that it wasn’t really the Council that had kidnapped her but some rogue elements within it.

Confident of the proposal’s warm acceptance, Tash eagerly reached for the door when she heard the first knock.

Bringing Alicia to the meeting had been Nikolai’s idea, one that seemed right at the time. He’d mentioned the meetings once or twice before, when she asked about the regular ‘thing’ he went to. Now seemed the right time to bring her to the meeting; Daye was acting… strange. Still he would be willing to bet that he already knew the news Tash wanted to deliver.

Suspicions were already forming in his mind, though he wondered if it wasn’t just the old Xangyarj distrust showing through. When they reached the top of the steps to find Reah and Darian there, he nodded once politely before knocking on Tash’s door to wait for her.

Opening the door, Tash was pleased to see that at least this time there was more than just one person. She blinked in momentary surprise when her eyes rested on Alicia, though after Daye’s abrupt resignation last week Tash thought she knew why the woman was there.

“Hi Kolya, Alicia. How’s it going Reah? Darian? Come on in, make yourselves comfortable. There’re drinks on the table.”

Reah sniffed once and merely passed silently ahead of the others to take a seat. She'd left Quin back in the apartment with strict instructions to do her homework and only her homework.

Galen waited restlessly outside of the building at Poplar Avenue, smoking a cigarette before he went upstairs with everyone else. He’d already seen Nikolai and Alicia arrive together and there had been a certain amount of awkwardness between himself and the Russian that neither of them seemed ready to acknowledge just yet. He sighed, taking another draw on the cigarette, it felt good to be smoking again and he had to admit it took the edge off that constant uneasy feeling that seemed to be a permanent fixture inside him of late.

“Hello Galen.”

Galen spun around suddenly, surprised to hear the soft, weary voice of his wife. His eyes widened in concern as he observed her appearance. She looked fatigued almost to the point of exhaustion and there was something else too, some new kind of sorrow that was etched into every one of her features though he could tell she was trying hard to hide it.

“Kate…” he said finally, coughing awkwardly as he dropped the cigarette and stamped the embers out under his shoe. “I didn’t think- I mean I wasn’t expecting to see you… here I mean, today.”

Kate sighed tiredly, twisting a lock of hair around her index finger absently. “Hmmm, well I wasn’t going to come…” She eyed Galen closely; she could feel his unease and nervousness almost as strongly as if it had been her own and she idly wondered if he had the slightest clue that she knew about his night of passion with Daye. With a casual swing of her head, Kate flicked her hair back over her shoulder so that she could look him fully in the face. “But I got Tash’s message… it sounded… urgent,” she laughed hollowly, “but then when isn’t it urgent with Tash? I wonder what the matter is now.”

Kate fixed her eyes purposefully on those of her husband, allowing herself to listen to his thoughts for a moment before she blinked, breaking the connection. “So what are you betting on? Apocalypse? Or some over enthusiastic Big Bad making a nuisance of themselves?”

Galen was taken aback at Kate’s unconcerned attitude, not to mention the fact that he could have sworn she had been reading his mind for a short while. “I’m not sure,” he said uneasily, wetting his dry lips. Taking a deep breath he reached out to touch her, “Kate, are you okay? You seem…”

Kate took a quick step back to evade Galen’s touch, fixing him with a hard stare again. “I’m fine,” she said hurriedly, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. She drew in a sharp, unsteady breath as though she was about to say something else but then thought better of it. Instead she started up the steps to the front door, “Are you coming up?”

Galen nodded, feeling embarrassed at the way she’d snubbed him. They walked up to the third floor just as Tash appeared to be closing the door. Galen made a quick dash to catch the door.

“Hey, wait, we’re here!” he called out hastily, grabbing hold of the handle and smiling nervously at Tash as she ushered them inside.

Tash could feel the tension between husband and wife, and wondered if this was the first time they’d met since that day Galen had walked out on Kate. For a moment she was tempted to talk to them, see if they were ok with being here together. Then she shrugged. They’d both come in the door, so obviously they’d already made that decision. And really, Tash was tired of being the shoulder everyone else cried on.

So she simply smiled and offered them both seats, noting that they sat on different couches. The strange look that passed between Reah and Kate didn’t pass unnoticed, either, and Tash hid a smile behind her hand. *It’s getting to be like ‘Days of Our Lives’ around here,* she thought.

During the whole while it took the new couple to enter and sit, Reah's mind was so abuzz with conflicting emotions that it was too hard for her to focus on anything else. It felt like the whole room had melted, drifted away and all that was left was the woman that had made her life a complete hell, once again. *Wasn't fitting enough to let everyone else just enjoy their lives while yours was falling apart. Fuck no! Let’s ruin Reah's as well!* Eyeing Kate up and down without moving her head, Reah’s lip curled in the slightest snarl. *Get over yourself.*

A sudden noise brought her back to reality.

Clearing her throat, Tash said, “Well, I think that’s everyone for today. At least we have some more people this week, right Galen?” Tash spoke with laughter in her voice, but it carried an undertone of bitterness.

“Anyway,” she continued, “it’s better that I get to tell you about this now rather than last week, since I have a much better idea of what’s involved now. But first, is there anything anyone else wants to bring up before I launch into my news?”

Reah sniffed, *Like the fact that Kate's backstabbing bitch, perhaps?* Keeping her thoughts to herself, however, Reah just shifted her attention to the door.

Nikolai and Alicia engaged serious looks for a moment, Nikolai starting to speak before stopping. Alicia took his hand into hers silently. No, he couldn't say anything. Not yet at least.

Kate frowned uncomfortably, purposefully avoiding any eye contact with Reah, Nikolai and Galen – Darian too for that matter. Instead she looked down into her lap, wondering why she’d actually decided to come. Her telepathy seemed to be switched to hypersensitive lately and she already felt overwhelmed at the number of different emotions she was experiencing. Kate hung her head even lower and wrapped her arms tighter around herself. If it had been possible for her to escape through the gaps in the floorboards she would have; anything to avoid what she was feeling right now.

Galen noticed Kate’s introverted posture and frowned worriedly before turning his attention to Tash, “Looks like you’re up.”

A cough interrupted and Darian spoke up, his voice filled with quiet desperation. “Actually, I was wondering if anybody had done anything else about Cole?” He nodded to Tash, “I know you rescued that guy who reckoned it was Cole who’d beaten him up. And Drea saw him last week in a supermarket. He threw some spell at her that stopped her from following him. But has anyone else seen or heard anything about him?”

Quirking an attentive eyebrow at the mention of Cole's name, Reah glanced curiously over the meeting’s attendants with equal interest.

Tash looked at the floor. Truth be told, she’d hardly spared a thought for the boy since that day. She cast a sideways look at Nikolai. Oz had said he was a friend of Kolya’s – maybe he’d heard about Oz’s beating too?

“Kolya, the man Cole attacked said he was a friend of yours. Oz.” Tash let the statement hang.

Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Oz?" he asked. It had been Oz's advice that led to the rather enjoyable evening with Alicia, and now he was finding out that Oz got the crap beaten out of him. "He disappeared about a week ago. I uh... didn't... have the chance to go look for him..." Nikolai said, trying to steady himself.

He felt a little guilty about it if he was honest with himself, but there had just been so much that he had to get done, deals, meetings. Then there were the problems with Daye. *No. I should tell them now.*

"I've been a bit… distracted," he confessed before deciding that the only way he would get it out would be to just say it. "Daye attempted to rape me last week," he blurted out.

Kate’s head snapped to attention immediately at Nikolai’s revelation and several people gasped and looked on in shock at the poor man. Kate felt like she’d just had the wind knocked out of her and shared an anxious glance with her husband before she had to turn away, hiding her face from him behind a curtain of red waves while her fingers pressed unsteadily into the arm of the sofa. Even now Daye’s mocking words filled her ears and Kate had to force herself to calm down before she did something she might regret.

Reah's eye twitched. *Stay calm... Staaay calm! You're going to get through this. Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean...* Her jaw popped.

Beside her, Tash could hear Reah grinding her teeth, the woman’s knuckles white against the arm of the couch. The emotional tension in the room rose several notches beyond the already unbearable levels it had attained, and Tash cursed inwardly. News like that wasn’t exactly going to put everyone into the right frame of mind for her proposal about the Watchers’ Council. And although the news itself was a shock, once she’d had a moment to think about it Tash wasn’t all that surprised. She’d seen the dark forces at work in Daye when she’d tried to cast that spell in Delancre’s study and knew the woman had strayed far from the path she usually trod.

Her eyes met Alicia’s and the two shared a look of understanding. “Yeah,” Tash said, “Daye’s not exactly been acting herself lately. Has she, Alicia? You saw her every day in the shop, what do you think?”

Alicia resisted the urge to glare at Nikolai. The kicker to the whole thing was that he'd promised her he would be subtle in bringing that up. "That's an understatement. She didn't even try to hide the evidence too well of what she did to Kolya. That doesn't even account for the change in attitude or dress. She's never been like this before."

Galen cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting in his seat as he listened to Alicia’s exposition on Daye’s sudden change in behaviour, not daring to add his own experience of that change. “I’ve noticed something too,” he just said quietly, filling in the lull in the room, “the strange behaviour I mean.”

Kate caught her husband’s eye from across the room before quickly turning away again and pursing her lips together restrainedly. *Yes I BET you’ve noticed a goddamn difference!* she silently fumed, wondering how he could just sit across from her like nothing had happened, especially after his rantings last week about how much her unfaithfulness had hurt him. Damn it, he had even hit her, and she’d been the one to apologise! When all that time he’d been unfaithful too!

“I don’t think we should be surprised at anything Amanda does from now on,” she stated blankly, her voice devoid of all emotion. “She’s not one of us anymore.”

Reah's eyes narrowed and she wondered just what could merit Kate giving anyone that look! Whatever the situation, she doubted she had the right to disapprove of anything her husband, of all people, decided to do! Tilting her head and staring pointedly at the woman, she sat silently and purposely continued her own open disapproval without even pausing to blink.

Once more Darian broke his silence. “Well, I’ve been noticing some odd stuff lately, not just with Daye.” All eyes turned to him and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m attuned to nature, I suppose you could say, and I’ve noticed something very… unnatural about some people. Cole has it – or, at least he had it when I last saw him. And I’ve seen it in Daye, too. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not part of them.”

Shaking her head, Tash chimed in, “I don’t know – I’ve not really noticed anything really different about their auras. I’d know if they were possessed by a demon or something.”

“Couldn’t it-” started Kate feeling suddenly self-conscious as everyone turned to look at her. “The magic? I mean I know Daye’s been practising black magic, or at least something darker than what she’s used to, and Cole – he had a similar problem, didn’t he?” She looked down into her lap again, “Dark magic can corrupt a person if they aren’t experienced enough to use it.”

“That may be it,” Tash said, “but this also leads me to what I wanted to discuss with all of you today anyway.”

Picking up one of the folders, she held it up. “I’ve got all the details in here, but basically I’ve been approached by the Watchers’ Council leader, who’s here in LA, with regard to forming an alliance between our groups.”

She looked at Alicia again as she continued, “This relates to Daye because last week she came with Alicia to Delancre’s office while I was there. She resigned from the Council, saying that she wished to pursue her own individual goals. I doubt we’ll see her at one of our meetings again either.” Tash’s face darkened for a moment as she recalled the other person who’d resigned from the White Hats. But there would be time to talk about Alessa’s choices later.

“Both Alicia and Delancre – the leader of the Council is called Ambrose Delancre – both of them were worried about Daye, especially when she tried to use magic against all of us in that room. He’s already looking into why she’s acting the way she is, and he’s agreed to share his findings with us. They’ve only just started, so there’s not much here. But there are indications that Kate is right about the black magic being somehow involved. But the question is still whether it’s the root cause or merely a side effect of the real problem.”

She gestured to the pile of folders on the table. “Look through these, and you’ll see both Delancre’s proposal and the information I’ve gathered on his forces here in LA. And the initial findings that he’s passed on with regard to his research into Daye’s problem.”

Smiling broadly, Tash sat back, happy that the unfortunate topic of Daye’s misadventures had turned out to be beneficial after all in advancing the proposed alliance.

Nikolai slowly picked up one of the folders to look through with Alicia. It was as he had expected, Tash was proposing an alliance. Only with various demonic members... he could trust Alicia, would in fact do so with his life. How was he supposed to do the same with a man he’d never met, especially having heard some of the things he had now? And then there were the reports of what went on, an account of a battle. Two parts of his personality waged briefly for the right to make the first reaction.

*I beg you, consider what you say carefully.* That piece of advice was enough to let L'Than temporarily fall to the background.

"Are you sure this is wise?" Nikolai asked, trying his best to keep a handle on his emotions. Hopefully Tash would think that he was accepting, but cautious.

Reah raised a bemused eyebrow at Nikolai's words of caution before immediately snapping to attention on Kate's parting lips, already drawing down in a scowl to whatever she had to say.

“Well this looks cosy,” reflected Kate flippantly as she flicked through the dossier. “I guess you get the band of warriors you always wanted from this deal, huh Tash? Instead of a rag tag bunch of misfits stumbling blindly into each new crisis – god knows how we managed to survive so long.” She sighed tiredly, holding her forehead. “Well you’ll be able to get back to what you love I suppose, hunting vampires instead of being relationship counsellor to the rest of us.”

She suddenly looked up, aware that she must have said something a bit off. “What?”

Reah's eyes just gawked. “What a c-”

“Kate!” Tash began, then paused, fighting down the anger her words had awoken. When she started again her voice was calmer, though she struggled to maintain it. “It’s a great step for us. For all of us. And yes, we have done some blind stumbling. That’s what I was trying to overcome with getting ourselves organised in the first place, but I wasn’t trying to criticise any of you. I’m proud of what we’ve achieved together.”

She looked around the room, hunting for allies. “Come on, guys. This is the Watchers’ Council, not the Order of Valor. You were happy enough to ally with them when the crunch came. At least the Watchers are the good guys!”

Nikolai snorted while he still looked over the papers. He knew that people were looking at him funny, could feel the questioning emotions. He just didn't pay it much attention. The Xangyarj were right: just in general, the Council couldn't be trusted. This group of 'good guys' managed to fail to distinguish between 'good' and 'bad' demons when it suited their purposes.

"Lavrenti Vladimirevich had a saying: never tell anyone more of the truth than is absolutely necessary. How do you know they can be trusted?"

Tash looked him square in the eye. “You know me, Kolya. You know my abilities. Yes, Delancre hasn’t told me everything yet. I’ve made a note of that in there too, you’ll see. But what he has told me has been truthful, I can vouch for that. And the more he gets to trust us the more he’ll let us into his world, too. The truth goes both ways, and I’ve not told him everything yet, either.”

She took a breath. “This isn’t a full joining of the two groups. I told him that the White Hats would keep their autonomy. It’s merely a sharing of resources. Information, funds, personnel where needed. Sometimes they’ll need our help and sometimes we’ll need theirs. But our goals are the same.”

Bowing her head she continued, “I must be honest with all of you, though. Even though Delancre has discussed the existence of rogue elements within the Council – elements that even now he’s rooting out – and that it was these renegades who took Alessa, she’s seen fit to not only reject this proposal, but to reject us.” Her voice grew bitter, “She’s turned her back on all of us and has resigned from the White Hats.”

Reah merely nodded at the statement without even paying much attention. She'd known about Alessa's departure for a while, and frankly it didn't rank very high in her 'care factor' of late.

Alicia looked surprised to hear that news, while Nikolai's response was merely to smile thinly. There was no hint of surprise at all on his face at the news, and it was obvious to anyone who bothered to look that he knew about Alessa’s decision beforehand.

"Yes, I am well aware of your abilities," he said evenly, never removing his eyes from Tash as he remembered the time when they first met over those lunches so long ago. "I also know that everything I – the old me – told you when we first met was true. Especially the lies."

Alicia looked at him in surprise. She knew from he said that he'd been fairly decent at deceiving people and wondered for a moment if his 'past' wasn't simply an elaborate fiction created to cover even darker secrets.

Then Nikolai remembered something else, something that should remind Tash to be careful even if her powers were satisfied. "Tell me, do you remember when Trigger gave you a bald-faced lie that you believed?"

Tash scowled. “And when we first met I knew you weren’t what you claimed to be. I simply played along to get to the details. I’d already worked out the gist for myself. But that’s not the issue here. The issue is, we have a perfectly reasonable proposal from a respectable organisation. Hell, we even have a member of the Watchers’ Council right here in the room with us!”

Kate laughed airily before clasping a hand over her mouth to silence herself. “I think the point we’re all forgetting here,” she said with a mock air of compliance, “is that Tash doesn’t make mistakes, Koyla. That’s what the rest of us are for.” She settled her gaze on the warrior woman, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead as she felt the annoyance and irritation rippling off Tash in great waves.

”After all,” she added with a slight tilt of her head, “Tash was the one who brought us all together, if she wants to sell us all out to The Watchers’ Council she’s perfectly entitled to do so."

"Why sell when I know some of us here that are even willing to give themselves away for free?" Reah flippantly added to the end of Kate's happy little spiel.

Reah resumed her unyielding glare with a slight, knowing curve on her lips. Kate dropped her eyes to her lap, while Darian watched Kate with a pained expression in his violet eyes. He knew she’d been through a lot in the past week; things that as far as he was aware nobody but himself knew about, things that he knew no woman should have to suffer on her own. Part of him wanted to tell the others, especially Galen who was looking at Kate like she’d grown a second head or something. He knew that his explanation might go some way to rationalise Kate’s strange behaviour, but another part of him was bound by the promise that she had forced from him, to tell no one and especially not her husband. Inside he was torn between what he felt was the right thing to do and his promise. So he remained silent.

“I think everyone is getting a bit worked up here,” said Galen suddenly, glancing at Kate with a mixture of worry and confusion. He might not be psychic but he could tell things were turning sour between what used to be a close knit of friends. He rose from his seat and crossed the room to stand behind Tash supportively.

“Tash is right, we need the kind of help that The Watchers’ Council can provide. Just because we’ve had a few bad run-ins with some of their associates doesn’t mean we should write off the entire organisation. The Watchers do good work out there and I for one think it’s a good thing that this Ambrose Delancre wants to take a more active role and what’s more, that he wants us to have a part of that role.”

Nikolai started coughing suddenly when Kate made her remarks, Alicia torn between shock then finally beating on Nikolai's back some in the hopes of getting him to stop. "Spaseba," he finally said, watching Kate. Something had happened to her, and now she was more than a little disturbed. He made a note to himself that he might try to talk to her about it later, though as it was he had to voice his misgivings.

"I've heard things," Nikolai said steadily, then continued before anyone else could interrupt. "No, I won't say exactly what, not until I've looked into things further. For what it's worth, however, I am concerned enough that I will not give any aid to the Council until I am satisfied that what I've heard is inaccurate." And if it was accurate, he would be highly disappointed, probably a little depressed, and resisting heartily the urge to say I told you so.

Tash was still reeling from Kate’s savage blow when Nikolai voiced his objections. After a long pause she finally reached up and patted Galen’s hand. “Thanks Galen. Nice to know some of my friends still trust my judgement.”

Clearing her throat she addressed Nikolai first, hurt that nobody else could seem to see the golden opportunity that lay before them. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve heard all kinds of rumours about the Watchers’ Council, and I’m sure they’re all from highly reliable sources. Fellow assassins, perhaps? Or simply gun runners? How about the Russian mafia? Yes, I’m sure you’ve heard lots of nasty things,” she said bitterly.

Her voice continued to rise as her frustration mounted. “And as for you,” she said vehemently, turning to Kate, “Is this the thanks I get for letting you cry on my shoulder for weeks about Emma’s death? And about how ‘badly’ Galen was treating you? And then about how terrible you felt about that so-called ‘mistake’ when you fucked Damen’s brains out? Now you’re telling me that I’m an idiot who’s being taken for a ride and that I’m trying to drag you all down with me? Well, at least I’m not a two-timing whore!”

Reah couldn't help the laughter slowly rumbling within her throat while her fingers had actually managed to claw their way inside Tash's upholstery. It took a lot of her effort to keep her fists from shaking. The whole world really had gone up shit creek without a paddle and she so wanted to punch everyone in the face right now!

Tash rose suddenly, knocking the coffee table askew as she stood. She could feel Galen’s shock behind her and regretted that she may have just alienated the one friend she seemed to have left in the room.

Keeping her voice under tight control, she said shakily, “I think perhaps we should call this meeting to a close now. It’s obvious that none of you are the least bit interested in even listening to what I have to say.”

Her control weakened and she found her voice rising as she continued, but couldn’t stop it, nor the words coming from her mouth. “I mean, last week none of you could even bother to show up! Sometimes I wonder why I ever tried to bring such a bunch of misfits and outcasts together in the first place. As if any of you have the discipline to show up every week, let alone actually work as a team! Fine, you seem to think I’m some sort of megalomaniac, then why don’t I just do this alone? I got along fine without any of you before, who needs you now? You drag me down with your petty personal problems and your constant bickering, well I’ve had it with the lot of you! Get out! GET OUT!!”

Nikolai shot to his feet. He actually hadn't gotten around to speaking to any underworld sources, but they would be next on his list to begin checking with. Though he was pissed – not so much at Tash questioning him. He could take that, even though he wouldn't reveal his sources. It was her attitude towards Kate that got him. Nikolai spoke in very loud, very rapid Russian for a full two and a half minutes without repeating himself before spitting on the floor and leaving.

Alicia sat there in shock for a moment; she'd recognised a few of the words, and while they started out bad she had the feeling that even Tash didn't know how harsh the language used was. "Excuse me," she said softly, rushing off to hurry after him.

Kate could barely control herself either at Tash’s vicious words. It was like Daye all over again and her heart beat furiously with a mixture of hurt and anger. She leapt to her feet, tears of bitter frustration welling up in her eyes as she thought of last week and what had kept her away from attending this ‘oh so important’ meeting.

“Damn you Tash,” Galen cursed, leaving his position by her side to console his wife. He didn’t care how much Kate might have rained on Tash’s parade, no one deserved to be talked to like that, especially after everything the two of them had been through. Tash was supposed to be their friend, the things they had told her had been in confidence and she had used all of that to take a dirty shot just to make herself feel better.

Galen rushed over to Kate who was staring at Tash, her hands trembling with violent intent. “Kate, no…” he urged her, taking hold of her arms and holding her back before she did something she would later regret.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Kate cried out angrily, breaking Galen’s hold on her and raising her hand to slap him across the face. Her entire body was shaking now as she faced her husband. “I guess that makes us even now,” she glowered darkly, “in more ways than one, wouldn’t you say?”

Galen’s mouth moved wordlessly as he stared in horror at Kate. “You know?” he whispered steadily, his voice barely audible.

Kate arranged her face into an expression of mock sadness, “Oh Daye kindly told me everything Galen. In detail. But don’t worry,” she said softly, gently stroking her hand against his cheek, “like I said, we’re even now. See you around perhaps.”

Galen stared on agog as Kate moved over to the door, turning to Tash as she passed her. “Poor Tash,” she said with a frown, “lost Victor and you lost your heart too.”

“Kate…” said Darian tenderly. He could hardly believe that he’d just watched the complete destruction of the White Hats. He glared at Tash who was staring at them all with black fury. He couldn’t stand to hear her say such things – whether she was ignorant to the facts or not, the truth was Kate had suffered more than anyone else knew, especially last week. “Kate, are you okay?”

“No Darian,” Kate said steadily, casting one last hurtful glance around the room as she walked through the door, “I’m not.”

“No, Kate, you’re never okay! It’s always got to be something with you, doesn’t it?” Tash called after Kate’s retreating back.

"That’s enough, Tash," Darian said forcefully, hoping to put a stop to the hurtful words that were being so easily tossed about.

Turning a baleful gaze on Darian, Tash moved to the door and held it open. “You’re right,” she said venomously, “It’s more than enough. Go on, then. The rest of you just fuck off. Who needs you anyway?”

Reah waited until Darian and Galen had left, which wasn't long at all, and was already standing when Tash turned aggressively to face her. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

Reah's eyes narrowed and she had to keep her temper in check as she spoke. The whole world had just gone anal and she couldn't help but feel a might bit shitted about it. "I have been here for every training session, every meeting – excluding the opening of the Armoury which I've given you VIP to – I'm always there to help, especially for my team, and I keep my 'petty' personal problems to myself," she stated, warning Tash not to challenge her.

"Don't ever talk down to me, especially when I'm still standing by you. Even for this." She held up her folder.

Tash rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly, distressed by her previous sudden outburst but still riding the wave of that fury. “Yes, Reah. I understand that some of you are more committed than others, and I appreciate it,” she said tightly, “but I’m tired of trying to keep everyone together. I mean, you’ve been sitting there all afternoon just grinding your teeth and puncturing my furniture. You’ve got a beef with Kate, I can appreciate that. God knows she’s decided to turn on me for no reason that I can see. But that doesn’t mean you can…”

Stopping herself before she began on another tirade, Tash sighed heavily and cast a narrow-eyed glare down the now empty stairs before turning back to Reah. “Okay. If you’re willing to actually look at what I’ve been doing at the Watchers’ Council you’re welcome to come along with me. But as for the rest,” her voice grew acid, “Fuck them all.”

As she watched Reah descend the stairs – the only one at that meeting who’d left without storming out – Tash closed her apartment door heavily and leaned against it. Alessa… Kate… Nikolai… even Darian and Galen… Their rejection felt like betrayal and tasted like ashes in her mouth.

“Yeah,” she whispered to herself. “Yeah, who needs them? The hell with them.”

a dream of choices

Firefly's picture

*** Friday, March 16, 2007 almost midnight ***
*** Daye’s house ***

Daye raked her nails down Drew’s bare back, drawing blood. She laughed throatily at his sharp intake of breath and stared up into his face. His gaze was locked on her face, a mixture of animal lust and shadowed sorrow in his eyes as his body writhed beneath her touch. His teeth were gritted and sweat poured off him.

Daye could feel the struggle within his mind as she held his will in check with her magic and forced the sex upon him. She could sense his frustration, his disbelief and the growing anger beneath it all. She enjoyed the violent heat that anger spurred.

Finally, replete, she shoved Drew off her and rolled away. He lay on the bed, breathing heavily, struggling to voice his objections. Unwilling to deal with that now, Daye pushed his consciousness down, putting him to sleep. Once he was unconscious, she arose, took a brief shower and climbed back into the bed, falling asleep nearly at once.

***

Daye stood on a path just inside a darkened wood. She turned slowly around and saw, a few feet behind her, a clearing where the path she was on forked off from another path. The second path continued on from the clearing into a brightly lit field. Daye saw, standing at the crossroads of these paths, her family… her daughter, her brother, her husband to be, and her mother all stood and watched her with sorrowful eyes. She glanced to her right and saw a door, a bright red door. The door was very familiar to her. Daye moved towards the door, placing a hand on it, and the bright red wood faded to a rosy transparency. Mother Mariah sat cross legged on a dais before the door. She studied Daye with eager eyes.

“Amanda… my daughter… my darling, please, come back now,” Daye’s mother called from the crossroads. She was only a few feet away, but her voice seemed to travel from across a great expanse.

“Amanda, please, come back to us,” Drew’s voice sounded distant as well.

Daye turned from the door to watch her loved ones plead with her. She couldn’t understand why they were so desperate, or why they sounded so withdrawn. She felt their words and their sorrow like a physical pull. Slowly, she began to walk back down the path towards them. They looked so hopeful. Daye stepped forward, coming to the break where the shadows met the light. She stopped, running up against a barrier she couldn’t see.

Erin Blaise broke away from the group and rushed to stand before Daye, separated by the barrier. She placed her hands upon it, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Amanda, my child, what has become of you?” Erin asked. “You’ve started down this path, but you are bound by something beyond your control.”

“Mother, I don’t…” Daye stammered. Her head pounded and she felt suddenly weak. She, for the first time, questioned her actions of late.

“Why am I doing this?” Daye turned her head to the left. In the shadows, her recent behavior played out. She saw the things she’d done to Drew, to Kate, to Galen, even to Nikolai. She saw from the outside the dark energy surrounding her actions and thoughts. Daye shook her head, denying the things she’d done, the thing she was becoming. “What’s happening to me? Where am I? Mother!”

Erin strained against the barrier that held Daye to her dark path. “Help me!” Erin screamed, struggling. Drew, Sam, and Maia rushed to the older woman’s side. They all pounded and clawed at the air before them, but none of them could reach Daye.

“Amanda!” Drew’s cry was a choked wail. Tears streamed unbidden down his face. Sam was crying as well. Maia stared solemnly at Daye and then around at those who stood with her.

“It’s no use,” a girl’s voice broke through the sobbing. Her words were filled with mirth. “Something is inside her. You can’t overcome it. She can’t either. You’ve lost the girl, Witch.”

Daye turned to the door. Mariah was eyeing them all in triumph.

“What have you done?” Daye asked. “How did you get out?”

“Do I look like I’m out, little one?” Mariah asked. “No, this is not my doing… but I can enjoy it nonetheless.”

“You monster!” Erin shouted. “Leave her alone!”

Daye turned away from her mother and moved towards the door. She knelt down. “I… what can I do?”

“You can only follow this path to its end,” Mariah replied indulgently. “There is no other way. But, I can help you… offer you guidance… for a price.”

“What price?” Daye replied.

“No, Amanda… don’t talk to her… don’t. You feed her power,” Erin’s words fell on dead ears.

“Just allow me to watch. It grows so tedious here alone,” Mariah said. “If I could watch you, share your journey, I would be relieved of my boredom. That’s not so much to ask, is it? In exchange for my wisdom, for my knowledge. I am the only creature alive who remembers the great magic of Atlantis. I could teach you so much.”

Daye nodded, her enthusiasm growing. Her loved ones shouted and argued, but their voices grew dimmer and dimmer.

“Mama!” Maia screamed. Daye turned her head, seeing only the child. Reluctantly, she moved away from the door. Maia was crying. She was alone and cold.

“Maia, what are you doing out here?” Daye asked softly. “Mama is working. You can’t be here.”

“Mama, don’ go…” Maia’s childish words were weakening. “I wan’ Mama.”

“Uncle Sam will take care of you, silly girl,” Daye replied. “I… I have too much to do.”

Turning back, Daye didn’t see the little girl’s shoulders slump. She didn’t know when Maia gave up, but glancing back moment’s later, Daye could no longer see the clearing… or the light.

***

Daye awoke, alone in the bed she shared with Drew. She sat up, blinking slowly. The dream lingered for a moment, and she felt a sense of loss and sadness. Daye sighed. She had so much work to do, and the dream was already fading so fast. Rising, she smiled in anticipation of the journey ahead.

daye moves out

Firefly's picture

*** Saturday March 17, 2007 around 9 am ***
*** Daye’s house ***

Daye sat in the study, two books open before her on the floor. She held a pen in one hand and was making notes in a journal on her lap. This book was slowly becoming her own personal grimoire and she had begun taking it everywhere with her. As her knowledge of dark gods and darker magic grew, she was beginning to feel comfortable with adapting, altering, and even creating spells. It was this study that consumed her time when she was not actively working magic for her growing client list. The business she’d established for herself was in high demand, and at the current rate she’d be pulling a profit in only a few weeks.

Daye was deeply engrossed in her work, and so did not notice at first that Maia had come into the room. She only glanced up when she felt the little girl’s eyes upon her.

Daye was irritated that Sam had allowed Maia to come in. She’d told him very clearly that her work was important and that she couldn’t be disturbed. Trying not to be too harsh with the little girl, Daye set the spell books aside.

“Maia, what are you doing in here?” Daye asked. “I’m very busy.”

“Wan’ Mama,” Maia replied softly. “Mama work?”

“Yes, I’m working,” Daye said. “You know that.”

“Mama bad work,” Maia frowned. “No work… play…”

“Maia,” Daye sighed, “I don’t have time for this now. Go find Sam.”

Maia looked very sad and very hurt. She sighed, a big grown up sound for such a little girl. Her shoulders slumped.

Daye watched Maia turn and dejectedly walk out of the room. She started to pick up her work again, but paused. Deep, deep inside, she felt uneasy.

*You must leave them, my love.*

Daye heard the familiar, melancholy voice as if the words had been spoken aloud and she was suddenly reminded of the dream she’d had the night before.

“Wha…?” Daye glanced around the room, but she knew no one else was there.

*Amanda, you have chosen your path. It is dangerous, but the choice is yours. You are sick, and if you stay they may become sick as well. You must leave them behind now.*

“You’re dead, Mother,” Daye said coldly. “You can’t advise me anymore. You left me long ago.”

*No, my darling, I’ve never left you. I’ll never leave you. How could I? You are the love of my life.*

Daye put her hands to her ears to block out the words, the sentiment. Her mother was weak. She’d died because she was weak. Daye was strong. She didn’t need weakness. She didn’t need Erin Blaise or her love.

*Even now, when you are so lost, I won’t leave you. I will walk this path with you. No matter how dark the night becomes. But they cannot, should not. You must let them go. You must leave.*

“I won’t listen to you,” Daye said defiantly. “You can’t make me. They’re mine; my man, my child, my brother. This is my home. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t have to. You can’t make me.”

*No, I can’t make you, but you will. There is light in you yet. The shadows cannot kill the light. That light will overcome. I believe in you. Please, Amanda, let them go. Love them… and let them go.*

The words echoed in Daye’s ears. She sat on the floor, curled into herself and rocked back and forth, trying to unhear. Pain sat inside her, and wouldn’t fade. She felt hot tears coursing down her cheeks. She thought of Drew, and Sam, and Maia. She thought of the disgust and horror in Drew’s eyes as they made love… of the pain and disbelief she’d caused both Galen and Nikolai… and finally, she recalled the ravaged, shattered face of her best friend, and she realized, somewhere within herself that Erin was right.

“I’m sick,” Daye whispered hoarsely. She was hollow. Even with the pain and the sudden awareness shoved upon her, she couldn’t fight the overwhelming urges that had been guiding her for the past few weeks. She wasn’t herself, but she couldn’t fight who she was becoming, but maybe she could save those close to her. She could leave. They wouldn’t understand, but they’d be safe.

*Yes, safe… keep them safe…*

Daye finally rose from the floor and began gathering her things. When she left the house a few hours later, she couldn’t hear the pleas or tears; all she could hear was her mother’s quiet sobs.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Jeet's picture

Wednesday March 21st 2006, 01:15 am

Thud.

Evie sat up startled in her chair.

“Sorry Evie, I didn’t mean to wake you,” a young nurse smiled as she checked Jeet’s monitoring equipment. Most of the staff knew Evie by now. She had been at the hospital every day since Jeet was admitted. Evie looked at the nurse longingly for some good news.

The nurse shook her head, “No change I'm afraid, try and get some more rest.”

Evie nodded her head dejectedly as the nurse left, gently closing the door behind her. She pulled her chair closer to Jeet and held his hand as she stared at his tranquil face. *Please wake up soon, please!* She laid her head on the pillow.

Jeet found himself standing outside a village again; he had visited this place in his mind twice before but something was different this time. He strained his eyes into the distance, and as they adjusted and refocused a smile crossed his face. Past the far side of the village, atop a hill, Jeet could see his temple, his home. Jeet purposely made his way forward into the village, down the main street.

“Hello again.”

Although he was half expecting it, the young voice of Mina, the girl that had also appeared twice before, still shocked him.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon Jeet, did you do what you had to?” the young girl was sitting beneath a tree surrounded by flowers that she appeared to be making jewellery out of.

“Yes, I destroyed the amulet, it’s all over now, the power’s gone.” He lowered his head as he thought about the events of that night.

Mina giggled, “Silly.”

“What?” Jeet was quite annoyed by her reaction. What did she know about it?

“The power isn’t gone, you can’t destroy it. The amulet was just a vessel; that may well be gone, but the power will always be there, it just found a new home that’s all.” She smiled as she carried on joining the flowers.

“New home? Where?” Jeet paused as it dawned on him. “In me?”

Mina nodded, “It’s yours now; it will be safe with you.”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway, I’m going home,” he gestured towards the temple with his head.

“You can’t go home yet, it’s not time.” Mina got to her feet and made her way over to Jeet.

“I’ve done what I was sent to do, I want to go home.” Jeet’s voice carried a trace of anger.

“The amulet was just a small part of it, Jeet. That world needs you; there is a lot more for you to do, they will need you soon.”

“There is nothing there for me, they will be fine without me, I’m just one man.” Jeet lowered his head, the child had managed to make him feel like a child himself. “I just want to go home.”

“The choice is yours to make Jeet, but never think that they don’t need you, and there [i]is someone there for you. Look.” Mina pointed over Jeet’s shoulder, “She is there for you, she needs you.”

Jeet turned to look. At the end of the path he was walking stood Evie, and he turned back again to look at the temple, back to Evie and then back to Mina. His eyes asked the question that he could not.

“It’s up to you Jeet, you must choose which direction of the path you will follow.” She took Jeet’s hand and placed a small flower into it.

“What’s that for?” Jeet stared down at the small flower in his hand.

“It’s a gift, if you go back it will protect you.” She closed Jeet’s hand around the flower.

“Protect me? Protect me from what?”

“It will stop you getting sick like the others. Remember, don’t get angry when your friends are mean to you; they're sick that’s all. They’ll need you to help them.” Slowly the young girl’s smile disappeared and she lowered her head. “Before you go, there is something you should know. Toni…”

Jeet lowered himself to one knee and hugged the little girl. “It’s ok. I know. I knew as soon as it happened, I felt it. He was a good man, I’ll miss him.”

Jeet got back to his feet. “Well, guess I should be getting back.” He looked at the temple in the distance, longing in his eyes.

“You’ll get there soon enough Jeet, just not yet.” The young girl’s smile was so warming Jeet couldn’t help but smile himself.

“I know, take care Mina. See you soon?” He watched as she skipped off, “See you soon?”

“I’m always here Jeet, always!”

Jeet turned away with a smile and made his way towards Evie.[/i]

Evie felt something press her hand; she looked up and burst into tears.

Jeet’s face smiled back at her.

Comic relief - because we're all dark and depressing of late

Kaarin's picture

“And now for something completely different….”

15 April 2007
11:00pm

Jordan Smith walked into the café that evening, glancing at the various tables. It was a new place, only opening a few weeks ago, but there was something special about this place: it was a place that you went to in the underworld. Not just any underworld, mind you: it sprang up to replace one of the places destroyed while the Brotherhood ran amok. As such, it looked just like your average café, he thought…

With demons…

And vampires…

A glance at a table over in the corner revealed what he was looking for. If there was one thing aura reading was good for, it was for spotting vampires and other followers of the dark. This table seemed packed with them. One of them with a black aura was a man with dark, curly hair who seemed to have a quite easy-going nature about him. Then there was the short, bald one whose aura proclaimed him the sole human at the table. Another large one, a demon with lots of muscles who looked ready to run for governer was also there. Finally was the woman, looking relaxed with her long, dark, curly hair falling down her back.

And there they were, sipping drinks. He guessed the woman was definitely a vampire, drinking a Bloody Mary, but the others were enjoying coffee. Smith pulled out a stake and charged forward.

Then found himself looking up from the floor as he tripped over his own feet.

“Why do we always get the inept ones?” asked the dark-haired man, looking at Smith. He helped the man to his feet, brushing off his jacket. “Look buddy, we’re not causing any problems.”

“Ja,” spoke the strong one, revealing a heavy Austrian accent. “Do us all a favour, and go write us some scripture, father.”

Smith looked a little confused at them, until the only other human there pointed out the glaringly obvious. “You left your collar on. I’m Damien, by the way,” he said, before pointing to the dark haired man, the giant, and the woman, “and this is Steve, Hans, and Elaine. Why don’t you sit down for a bit? We could use the company.”

“Right…” Smith felt more than a little confused. This wasn’t the way things were supposed to go - he was supposed to charge in and make the vampires into dust. Of course, when had things ever gone according to plan for him? Normally the vampires laughed at him, but one day he would show them.

One day he would actually stake one.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a demon hunter,” he pointed out. “Shouldn’t I be staking you? Especially since you’re bloodsuckers?”

Elaine looked down at her drink. For some reason, he thought she looked a little green and uneasy. Slowly she picked it up, sipping it as though to confirm her suspicions.

“Excuse me.” She pushed out of her seat looking positively ill before running to the bathroom.

Steve shook his head. “Now you’ve done it,” he started, “We’re going to have to get her a new drink now, and it’ll take us all night to convince her to drink it.”

Smith looked more than a little confused.

“She’s hemaphobic,” Steve explained.

“But…” Smith started, looking towards the restroom. “She’s a vampire, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. So?”

“And she’s hemaphobic?”

“Yes, she is.”

“A hemaphobic vampire?” he asked still in shock, looking around at them. It seemed more than a little strange and made him wonder about the rest.

“And we are not all bloodsuckers,” Hans pointed out, as his mind finally caught up with the earlier remark Smith had made. Intelligence was emphatically not his strong point. Hans smashed things, and he smashed them well, but he wasn’t really one for thinking. “I am a barbarian.”

“Right…”

“It’s true,” Steve said. “And I’m an anthropromorphic incarnation of a primordial evil.”

Damien snorted at that, with a disbelieving look on his face. He stared at Steve through his glasses in disbelief. “You aren’t starting that again, are you?”

“What?”

“He’s not a primordial evil?” Smith asked. This was just getting stranger and stranger.

“Well… he is ancient if your point of reference is a fruit fly.”

Smith was too shocked to say anything at all when Elaine slowly came back, looked at the literally Bloody Mary with disgust, and carried it up to the counter at arm’s length. Hans excused himself and told the father he would probably better spent his energies building some more churches.

“So,” Smith finally said, “you’re really a not-so-ancient evil?”

“That’s right,” Steve nodded.

“But you tell everyone you’re ancient?”

“It’s the only way I can get any respect,” he protested, leaning forward to sound serious. “‘Hi, I’m Steve, an anthropromorphic incarnation of contemporary evil summoned to this plane not ten years ago.’ Does that sound threatening to you?”

Smith considered it for a moment. “Well, um… no, I guess not.”

“You see? My point exactly! Nobody takes you seriously unless you’re two things: first, you have to be at least a millennium old; second, you need either a title or some weird name.”

“Steve?”

“It’s very strange where I come from, mister. Everyone has names like Mantagrentag or Eleuthermentos.” Steve picked up his coffee to sip at it for a moment. “What I don’t get is why you have to be ancient to be taken seriously. I mean, what, do these heroes think we’re just born ancient? Do you have any idea how many primordial evils really aren’t?”

Elaine finally returned with her drink, slipping into the booth. For a moment she looked confused, setting down a new literally Bloody Mary on the table. “Where’d Hans go?”

“He said he to smash some things,” Smith pointed out. He still couldn’t believe that this was going on, but… well… if things were going to be odd, he figured he might as well see where they went. “That drink, it’s not-”

“Tomato juice,” Elaine said firmly, taking a sip. For a moment her face cringed up as she spoke again slowly and firmly. “To-ma-to juice. So, what are we talking about?”

“Ancient evils,” Damien pointed out, before continuing on the same vein as Steve had. “You know, what I’m trying to figure out is why the people who research these things have never caught on to how many of you have faked their past. I mean, come on, one of you should have destroyed the world already.”

“We’re working on it,” Steve said. “Very slowly. My job is helping me with it.”

Smith raised an eyebrow at that. “And just what do you do?”

“I’m a producer of Reality T.V. programmes.”

“Reality T.V.?”

“I’m currently working on the new season of American Idol, which is a step up from my old job on The Bachelor. Just glad that Elaine negotiated the new contract – she’s a lawyer.”

Smith glanced at the vampire, who did look rather attractive, and noted the suit that she wore. She looked like someone who could look in a law firm and he thought the occupation was oddly appropriate for one of her kind. He now became more curious about Damien. “And what do you do?”

Damien sighed, looking slightly disturbed. Almost like he wanted to curl up at the question. “I’m a wizard,” he finally said. “Freelance, dabble in the dark arts. That’s how I met these two.”

“It took us hours to make him human again,” Elaine said, laughing in remembrance. “He was trying to curse this business owner who cheated him and it kind of backfired.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Damien protested meekly in his defence. “I had no way of knowing that I was using the middle voice.”

Steve glanced over at him in disbelief. “You were using an incantation in Greek. You don’t even know Greek.” That told Smith all he needed to know about the spell, since the middle voice in Greek was always reflexive.

“Well, it did go better than that other curse…”

Elaine looked at her drink in contemplation, quickly downed the thing in one long gulp, and apparently was trying not to think about the contents. “Which one was that?” she finally asked. “The one that made your milk go sour, or the one that made your hair fall out?”

Damien looked rather embarrassed when he spoke next, his voice controlled and steady. “Actually I was thinking about the one that made one of my pet mice into a genius.”

“Oh, that’s right,” her voice full of surprise and remembrance. “What ever happened to him, anyway?”

“Warner Brothers hired him and let him make a cartoon about himself trying to take over the world.” Damien looked at Smith seriously. “Don’t let these guys fool you, I’m actually quite dangerous if I want to be.”

Steve chuckled. “You? Dangerous?”

“My aim is just a little off.”

“A little? You couldn’t hit Russia with a spell while standing in Siberia.”

“It’s getting better!”

Smith shook his head. “A not-so-ancient evil, an inept evil wizard, and a vampire who is terrified by blood…” he trailed off, before turning to face Elaine. “I have to ask, just how does that work? I mean, how do you eat?”

“I’ve learned to live off tomato juice,” the forcefulness with which she said it making him suspect that she only took blood she could call tomato juice. Which meant no hunting for her.

“But you can’t stand blood?”

“It’s disgusting.” Elaine’s face scrunched up in as much disgust as she tossed into pointing out that blood was disgusting. “Especially in this day and age. Do you have any idea how many diseases can be transmitted by blood?”

Smith blinked. “Vampires can’t get sick, though, can they?”

“Do you want to take the chance of biting some HIV-infected guy as a vampire? I mean it’s bad enough as a human, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my un-life running from the Slayer and sick as a dog.”

“Ok,” Smith looked around, suddenly aware of the other patrons in the café. These three might not bother him, but… suddenly, Smith was aware of the fact that he wasn’t exactly the best hunter. Maybe he should consider a new line of work. “Excuse me, I have to go,” he stammered out before leaving the group to their own devices.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Evalyn Toussaint's picture

1318 Poplar Avenue - Reah’s Apartment
Thursday the 22nd, March, 2007
17:43

Reah was sitting cross legged on the couch, blankly staring ahead at nothing with a deathly cold vibe emanating off her when the rapid knock came on her door.

She ignored it at first, knowing it was Damen since she’d spotted him jogging up the buildings front steps via her H.U.D. As long as there was technology, there was Reah, able to hack through most codes to see and hear what it had to offer without even lifting a finger. It was extremely convenient for keeping an eye on the outside world around her. And considering its current landslide in reputability and how little she wanted to do with it anymore, she was taking full advantage of this. Especially after that last White Hat meeting.

She felt now more than ever that there was literally no one person she could rely on anymore. She was on her own.

However, the knocking didn’t cease. Quite the opposite, growing steadily louder as it always did when Damen was the one making the racket.

It had been more than a week since she’d last seen him and frankly, it hadn’t been long enough!

“FUCK OFF!”

“Reah, I-I think we need to talk.”

“The fuck we do!”

“Just open up, would ya?”

Snatching up her Ares Predator, Reah swiftly twisted her arm around without looking, aimed, and fired.

“It’s open.”

The door swung inward on its own, slowly revealing Damen with an eerie creak, his eyes wide as he stared down at a smouldering hole where the door knob had once resided.

Reah didn’t move an inch from her position, not even to lower her gun which was still aiming steadily towards the door as Damen finally managed to regain enough movement in his limbs to scratch uncomfortably behind his neck. “Um… sooo… How’ve you been?”

He received a disgruntled sniff as his only reply, but other than that, she still didn’t budge an inch. Just continued to stare off in her little hate filled world.

“I… tried calling.”

“Really?” Reah suddenly mused aloud. “I hadn’t noticed.”

A glance towards where the phone should have been on the wall revealed the gaping hole in its place.

“O…kay.” Damen shifted his feet, contemplating his retreat. *Fucking women! Why does she have to be such a god damned pain in the ass!* Despite fearing for his balls, he somehow figured he needed to explain, try and smooth the rough edges some and apologise. He couldn’t just leave her until she finally exploded in a blind and bloody rage, waiting for her to exact her revenge in a classic Reah style.

“I… You don’t understand how fu… how hard this is just standing here like a complete ff…” He gritted his teeth in a strained attempt to hold his temper. “Can I come in?”

“Why do you even bother to ask?” she answered hollowly. If it was at all physically possible for her face to harden any more, Damen’d swear it did! “Clearly my influence holds no sway whatsoever on your life.”

*Fucking..!* Running hands through his hair, Damen gazed tryingly up at the ceiling before taking a steady step through the threshold. He knew she was pissed, and this wasn’t going to be easy. “Look… what happened…”

“It was a mistake?”

“Yes!” Damen sighed, slightly relieved that that part was over, but he knew well it was far from done. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“She just kind of fell on you, right?”

“Um… yeah…” Damen eyed her warily. One thing he’d loved about Reah, but was currently finding the major downside of, was her unpredictability. He doubted a bloody psychic could foretell her moves. “I… just thought… you should know…”

“Oh, don’t worry, I already knew.” She craned her neck around to look at him, her face an emotionless void. “How else could such a thing happen?”

“Um… right.” *FUCKING!* She was playing games with him, wasn’t she!

… wasn’t she?

Damen frowned. She sounded sincere, but there was that underlying sense of… something. *Fuck! Why did I have to come here!* He already knew before asking, though. Strangely enough, he did miss her being there. She was always there! The other night before Galen had pummelled him into a bloody pulp… she’d really meant it when she told him to fuck off. Since then he couldn’t help the hollow feeling he’d felt inside.

“I really fucked up, Reah,” he sighed, slumping heavily under the weight of his confession.

After what seemed an age of unrelenting silence, Reah finally let out a heavy sigh of her own and lowered the gun. “No shit, Captain Obvious.”

Taking the last few steps to close their distance, Damen suddenly pulled on the brakes just short of arm’s reach. “Babe…”

“Why did you come here, Damen?” Reah quickly said, cutting in.

“Um…” Swallowing, Damen shook his head to try and think of how he was supposed to answer that question, if their was any, without getting his head ripped off. “I… came to explain… to apologise…”

“Fair enough.” Reah nodded thoughtfully to herself. “And how was I supposed to react?”

*What the hell type of a question is that!* “Um…” Damen scrunched up his face, pinching his nose and resisted the urge to pull out a cigarette. “Fuck, Reah! I don’t know!”

“Do you know what they think of you out there, Damen?” Reah swiftly moved the conversation along. “I know what I used to think of you. I liked you, I really did.”

She sighed, her eyes vacant as she stared back to the wall. “I knew you were a fucking asshole, not exactly one of God’s greatest gifts to the world; in fact I’d say you were more like the crap he scraped from his foot with a twig after trodding in dog shit!”

Damen frowned, opening his mouth to say something then quickly closed it, thinking better of it and wisely allowed her to continue. “But I didn’t care, cos I’m above all that holier than thou shit. People can, and will, think whatever the fuck they want about my choices in life. But what you…” Reah faltered, gaining focus again as she frowned in frustration, her so well restrained fury gradually seeping to the surface.

“Do you even realise the extent of what you’ve done? Do you know what they must think of me? My ‘friends’?” Her eyes bored into his head. “If you do, could you let me know, cos I can’t even begin to fucking imagine!” She sighed, turning her head in disgust to the empty seat beside her, muttering to herself. “What they think of me…”

He couldn’t stand this. How long was it going to go on for? “Fucken… Reah-”

“I am human, Damen, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She was quick to cut him off again, her voice dark and as furious as her eyes. “I mightn’t show them much, but I do have feelings.” Damen’s own temper started to rise as he struggled to keep in check. “As much as I don’t give a rat’s ass about what others think half the time, I do give a fucking fat man’s ass about what I think of myself!”

“Jesus Christ Reah, I trie-”

‘CRACK’

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, TRIG!” Reah venomously spat down at his reeling form on the ground. She’d sprung to her feet so quickly that he barely even had the time to register the movement before she’d laid him flat with her fist solidly punching through on his jaw.

“The name that you have for yourself, and you just go right ahead and fuck one of my friends!” Her foot swung right back, dealing a swift blow into his gut. “I’m sure she feels sick to the stomach, because she touched you! The very crap off God’s foot,” Reah hissed, her body shaking with restrained fury.

Why she was holding back, she didn’t know. Possibly because if she let all out she knew she could kill him with one hit, and that would just be inconvenient. Not when she wasn’t done yelling at him. “Well I touched that crap all the time! Was involved with that rank piece of crap, and I’m apparently now expendable to a piece of FUCKING CRAP!” she screamed.

Damen painfully shuffled backwards clutching his stomach until his back was hard up against the wall. Women were definitely way too much trouble. More than they were worth. And now she was just pissing him off when he was trying to be nice!

“Reah, would you just fucking listen to me for a bloody second!” He coughed violently, pushing himself steadily up the wall till he was on his feet, albeit shakily. “It was a mistake, Reah. A fucking mistake! She was hurt and looking for comfort. We were drunk and it was never supposed to fucking happen!”

“BUT IT FUCKING DID, DAMEN!” she screamed. “It fucking did! And if I know you at all, I’d bet it was probably you who convinced her to take the drink to drown away her sorrows, right?” Her eyes were hard and cold in her accusation. She didn’t even need to see his reaction to know it was the honest truth. “You and your soft heart for women.” She sniffed. “WELL, AM I NOT A FUCKING WOMAN, TOO? You hurt me Damen. Do you not understand this? Am I exempt from being treated as a natural born woman because I’ve got a few wires in me?”

Damen just watched from a safe distance as she collapsed back against the arm of the couch, cradling herself like a person about to be sick. A torrent of emotions ran through him. Anger, self pity and guilt combined.

Her savage blows had left him dizzy and sick as he tried to focus on the world. Only the experience of multiple beatings over a lifetime was keeping him from passing out right now. The worst part of it all, however, being that he knew she could do a lot worse than she had and he feared what was to follow!

But the fact that she was playing some sort of a victim here was just really beginning to shit him up the wall. What happened had happened because he was being supportive to one of her friends during a hard time! What had followed afterward had never been intentional - although enjoyable, he had to admit - it wasn’t supposed to happen! Yet here Reah was.

If anyone was the victim here, it was him. You try to be compassionate, and waddya get!

“Well, excuse me for being blunt, but it isn’t exactly like you are your everyday woman,” he angrily spat. “Half the time you seem fucken dead to the world! Couldn’t give a damn what was happening in anyone else’s fucken life. Too absorbed in your god damned own! I’d tried to open up to you on more than one occasion, and you’d just fucken roll over until it was more convenient for you!” He’d lost it now. “If you’re so fucking hung up about not being treated like a human being, then how about you just FUCKING ACT LIKE ONE LIKE THE REST OF US!” Oh how his head was reeling after that outburst.

Reah couldn’t believe her ears. He actually had the nerve! She was visibly shaking as she continued to stare at her feet, eyes scrunched up, silently fuming. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me,” Damen screwed up his face, shaking off the room’s swirl while pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed some hard drugs, and fast! He wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

“I’m not human.” Reah’s vengeful eyes rose steadily from where they’d been facing the ground. “That’s it, isn’t it.” She sniffed, a rueful smile spreading across her face. “Is that what everyone else thinks of me? That I don’t really feel like the rest of them because I’m different?”

A small, disturbing ripple of laughter escaped her lips. “Don’t worry about Reah! She’s not like the rest of us! She’ll get over it, because a good ol’ blood bath is all she really wants in life. She’s only made for the killing, not the living. Is that IT?”

*Oh fucken hell.* He needed to get out, and he needed to do it now. Longingly glancing at the open front door, Damen forced himself to calm his tone as he gradually edged towards it. An upset Reah was a dangerous Reah. “I didn’t mean…”

“I feel like a fucking fool, Damen,” Reah continued, locking his feet sternly on the spot with a savage glare as she slowly paced towards him, murder in her eyes. “I LOOK like a fucking fool! I don’t want to know what others think of me. I don’t like to see my friends and any fake fucken sympathy they might have to offer for the sake of politeness,” she threw up her hands in submission, “Cos why the hell was I sleeping with you in the first place? They must think I’m pretty fucken low to want to do that. But wait…”

She paused, mocking thoughtfully. “Reah doesn’t have standards, cos she isn’t even HUMAN!”

Damen flinched with every step as her heavy boots clunked on the hard polished floorboards, scraping together as she suddenly ducked a heavy punch deep in his gut and swivelled aroung to crouch swiftly beside his head as he doubled to the ground.

“Am I making my point clear, Damen, or do I need to start bringing in examples to support the statement?” Reah gravely queried with answering blades.

Furiously coughing up his own blood, Damen couldn’t take it any longer. He didn’t care. The bitch had gone too far and she was going to hear about it whether she liked it or-

Lose your temper with me and start bitching off on one of your trademark rants again, and I PROMISE you you’ll lose a hell-of-a-lot more than that!” She sniffed, glancing down at his shirt with a thoughtful frown before turning her eyes back to his. “Ever heard of a nipple cripple before? You might find this similar…”

His shirt was shredded before he even had a chance to raise a hand in defence, but none of that was an issue anymore when all he could focus on was the a sharp pain that pierced through all his senses. “But a lot more effective, wouldn’t you agree? Do you know why?” she pop-quizzed him.

“You’re not just dealing with some early 21st century chick just whining about her rights and fighting for ‘team woman’.” Reah went on to explain, gradually increasing the tension that held him paralysed. “You’re dealing with a chick from the fucken 2060’s! I’m literally one of a kind, fucking unique beyond all reason! I know things that no one could even begin to conceive, and you treated me like shit!” Her fury peaked as she near tore out a piece of him, but she kept her voice low as she uttered hollowly, “Do you have any idea what it feels like to live in this world without being used as a mere convenience, as well?”

Tears were spilling from Damen’s tightly clenched eyes. “Ah-fffuu… Rea-ah.”

She released her grip, much to Damen’s relief as he protectively rolled over on instinct to try and stop the searing pain.

Reah just watched him for a moment with a look of disgust, then slowly rose to her feet.

“I don’t need to kill you to prove anything,” she sniffed, half muttering to herself as much as she was to him before raising her voice with a booming gesture. “Congratulations, mate! I’d say you just got off pretty damn easy.”

Snarling down at his pitiful form for one final glance, she spun about and stalked away. “Get the fuck off my premises before you find yourself in need of a ton of ice and a damn quick surgeon.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Allyana's picture

Sunday March 18th
8 am
The ‘Big House’

Part one

“Your father’s house never looked this good,” she said to Ellis. They arrived at the house early in the morning. As they jumped out of her VW, Alessa took a good look of her new home. It really was something!

“It’s not Ernie’s house anymore, Alessa. It’s yours now,” she heard Ellis say, as he hugged her from behind.

Alessa tensed for a moment and he let go of her, sighing. She didn’t feel completely comfortable with his affectionate manner yet; despite the passionate hours they shared every night. That she was using him had crossed her mind, but she had relegated the thought to the back of her mind. She needed him, and that was all.

“I can’t think of it as my house either. Not yet, at least,” she answered and turned to take one of the small crates in her car.

Ellis gave her a curious look and followed suit. “Well, you can call it the “Big House”, I guess that’s not so compromising, is it?”

“The Big House,” she repeated, rolling the words in her mouth while she approached the doors, “I like it.”

Oz opened the door and hurried to help her with her burden, and she smiled her thanks. It was a weekend and thus his free days, but he had insisted in helping her move in. Same with Donny. Alessa greeted them with a big smile and walked into the hall. Most of her things were waiting for her there; Oz and Donny had received the moving van the day before. Not that there were many boxes and crates, but Ellis had insisted in sending the bulkier ones earlier.

She noticed he greeted Donny warmly but only nodded coldly to Oz and she rolled her eyes. He was still worried about her hiring him, but Oz had already proved to be a good worker and that was all that mattered to her.

The man had changed a lot too; he didn’t look in the least like a bum anymore, and he had cleaned up pretty well too. He had a dark beauty and an air of dignity and inner repose that she found soothing. There was sadness too, she could see it in his dark eyes; and she found it as compelling as all the rest, maybe because it reflected her own.

She hadn’t had much time to talk to him, either. Every time she had visited her new home he had been doing some chore or other. The house showed his efforts in the careful weeding and mowing, as well as in small things here and there, like a now working lock or a spot that didn’t groan anymore when you walked on it. The mansion had been in good shape, but it had been evident that it hadn’t been ‘lived in’ for a few months. Houses needed people living in them, otherwise they fall apart, no matter how much they're taken care of.

Giving Oz an appreciating smile, she vowed to get to know him better. She only knew that he was a widower and that things hadn’t gone well for him lately, but that wasn’t enough. Although, unlike Ellis, she didn’t find that in the least worrying.

She crouched next to the first of her boxes and opened it. It had her china in it. She asked Oz to take it to the kitchen so Donny could start unpacking it. The following boxes contained mostly the same kind of things. Alessa didn’t really own that much, she used to travel lightly. Her TV set, a good stereo that Chance had bought, some decorating items - mostly Paraguayan crafts, a few magazines and a lot of books. All her belongings, including her clothes, summed up to less than a dozen boxes of different sizes.

*Not very impressive for a ninety year old life, huh?* she said cynically to herself, trying not to think how little she had accomplished in so many years.

Leaving the others behind, Alessa carried the box she had taken from the car into her bedroom. It contained her very few special items. She placed the box on the bed.

On top there was a soft fuzzy teddy bear, that she placed between the pillows on her bed. Then she pulled out a picture of Alec Hunt, her father. It was yellowed with age and protected within an old silver frame. She ran her finger down his cheek through the crystal; he had been so handsome! She missed him so much, even after all these years. She put it on the nightstand next to her bed. Then she stared blankly at the rest of the box’s contents.

There were more pictures. She took another frame. This time it was a picture of Morris and herself. They were laughing and seemed so happy… she stared blankly at it for a moment before letting it drop again inside the box, beside the photo album with Chance’s pictures and Morris’ diary. Morris and Chance… those things would only make her remember them, remember her past, and she didn’t want to.

She searched inside the box once more, and took out her jewelry box. Alessa opened it and looked at its scarce contents; a pair of pearl earrings, some accessories… her most precious jewelry had been the silver cross her father had given her and Morris’ agate ring, but she had lost them on the island. *Along with my peace of mind,* she said to herself, remembering the dreams she had been having lately. Without her charm she was vulnerable against Morris again, but she had received so much comfort from her dreams that she hadn’t tried to prevent them anyway. It was time she changed that, she thought as she stood to place the jewelry box on her boudoir.

There wasn’t anything else. Without looking at her lovers’ memorabilia, she folded the box's lids and walked to the closet, placing it in its farthest corner. When she closed the door she swallowed the lump in her throat, and felt like crying. She was brushing away the few teardrops that had welled in her eyes when Ellis came into her bedroom.

"That's the last one," he said as he set down the last case of clothing. He smiled at her, sensing her distress, and moved towards her but she hurried away. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, and looked around. The sight of the childish teddy bear among her pillows made him smile. “And who’s that?” he asked.

Alessa grinned, glad to think about something else. “He’s el Sr. Oso, Mr. Bear. He’s my oldest companion.” She looked at him as he took the silver frame from her night table.

“Your father?” he asked, studying the blond man in the photograph, when she nodded he added, “You have his eyes.”

“I know,” she said, taking it from his hand and looking at the man's catlike eyes. It was a black and white photograph, but she could see his eyes clearly in her mind, the same bright green than hers. *Hunt's green.* Sighing, she put the framed picture in its place again.

“Thanks Ellis,” Alessa impulsively hugged him, “For everything.”

Ellis just hugged her back, trapping her before she could move away. Her mood changes were difficult to understand. She was a puzzle, hot and passionate at nights, shy in the day. Kissing her lightly, he let go of her, not wanting to feel her reticence.

“Do you want to unpack your clothes?” he asked.

Alessa just shook her head. “Not really. I’d rather go help Donny and Oz with the rest of the stuff. I’ll unpack these later.”

She noticed his silence and turned to look at him. His handsome face was set in a hard line. She sighed.

“What is it, Ellis? Not Oz again, right?”

“I learnt something about your ‘employee’ the other day. Nothing good, let me tell you.”

Alessa’s nostrils flared. “¿Ah sí? And how did you learn those ‘bad things'?” she asked in a sweet tone that didn’t deceive him. He went on, anyway. She had to know.

“I had him investigated, of course,” he answered, matter-of-factly.

“Of course,” she purred, narrowing her eyes and approaching him. “And why did you think it would interest me, in the least?”

“Because it should!” Ellis spat, angry at her blindness. Bending to be level with her petite frame, he glared at her. “Heard of the ‘Christmas Story’, last year, when more than a hundred people got killed in a church?”

She blinked, surprised. “Can’t say I did, no. Why?”

“Well, he was responsible!”

Alessa just stared at him, shocked, for a few minutes.

“Explain yourself,” she said at last.

“There isn’t much to tell. Nobody really knows what happened. But an entire congregation of people were killed last Christmas Eve. They just died, and Ozimandius DeAngelo was arrested for their murder.”

Alessa raised an eyebrow; she remembered the incident vaguely, once she put her mind to it, but then she had traveled to England and been lost to the world… she hadn’t even thought about it since she got back, much less recognized Oz’s name. However, she couldn’t reconcile the image she had of the man with the ruthless killer Ellis was portraying.

“How come he’s in the open if he killed all those people?” she asked, a little less belligerently.

“Lack of evidence. The court had to let him go; even when he admitted being responsible, for Christ sake!”

“He confessed? No need for evidence if he confessed, I mean, if they already suspected him…” she reasoned, her mind a whirlpool of thought.

Ellis ran his hand through his hair, frustrated at not getting the response he expected, but he couldn’t lie to her; she would learn the truth anyway.

“No, he didn’t. He didn’t say he did it; just that he was responsible.”

Alessa smiled bitterly. “And I’m responsible for your father’s death. Twice. That doesn’t make me his killer.”

His eyes shone dangerously and she regretted speaking. He had never blamed her for anything that had happened to Ernie, but she knew he had blamed Chance. Couldn’t he see that this could be just the same thing? With a wave of her hand, Alessa dismissed the topic and turned to leave the room.

Alessa!” he yelled at his retreating back, his frustration almost breaking his control. He wanted to shake her, make her understand. She couldn’t be that naïve. “Didn’t you listen to what I said?”

“Didn’t you?” she spat back, then she turned around in the threshold and stopped him from replying with a gesture. She gave him another weak smile. “I did, Ellis. I’m not stupid. But I don’t think it matters. If the law couldn’t find him guilty I don’t see how I can.”

“And why the hell didn’t he tell you the truth about him!? Don’t you wonder about that?”

“Well, if everybody reacts like you did about it, it’s not surprising he didn’t. Besides, it’s not like he was hiding who he was or anything like that. He did tell me his name,” she answered, trying to sound reasonable. *Which is more than I did; he doesn’t know he’s working for a demon,* she thought, biting her lip. She was used to being judged by things that were beyond her control, like her demon blood; she didn’t want be guilty of the same.

She rolled her eyes at his disbelieving stare.

“Tell you what, I’ll ask him about it. If I don’t like what he tells me, I’ll fire him, ok?”

Ellis just nodded, it seemed that he wouldn’t get her grant him more than that. He would have his own ‘conversation’ with Ozimandius DeAngelo, anyway.

'The Big House'

Part two

Oz watched Ellis looking down at the petite Alessa and talk to her angrily. His pointing finger left no doubt as to the subject of their conversation. Alessa was not intimidated in the least, but the tiniest hint of a protective instinct in Oz made him want to go over there and push Ellis back a half-step.

Oz carried the box of old textbooks and teaching materials up to the office. He could hear the rising tones of Ellis' voice carrying up the stairs, “And why the hell didn’t he tell you the truth about him!? Don’t you wonder about that?”

Oz had not avoided the truth; he just had not blurted it out. He and Alessa had really not even had much time to talk about it. She had not stayed on the grounds of the "Longwood Estate" - as Oz had started calling the surrounding property - for more than a few minutes at a time until today. Even those visits had been mostly about work needing to be done or preparations for the move.

Ellis' heavy footsteps preceded his entering the office with another box of papers. He set them down while keeping one eye carefully on Oz's movements. Oz regarded the man. Ellis was neither pampered nor weak. He was fit and physically intimidating.

Oz started to head out to get another load when Ellis kicked the office door closed in front of Oz with a slam. Oz rolled his eyes. *Here it comes.*

"So, how long were you going to wait before you told her, Oz?" he asked with the sort of menace and politeness that effective managers have.

Oz turned to face him and shrugged nonchalantly, "When it came up. I suppose that would be now, wouldn't it?" *You don't scare me, Ellis,* Oz thought and his body attitude telegraphed it to the man facing him.

Ellis flushed with the cheek of the mur… alleged murderer. Ellis wasn’t ready to condemn Oz just on the story the investigator had told him. It could be as the courts had determined: that Oz had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he wasn't innocent. The courts had determined that too. A mistrial wasn't an acquittal. "I want this to be very clear, Oz. You are getting paid with my money. Even though Alessa hired you, you are working for me. I will see you on the street so fast you won't have time to pack a bag if you do anything even slightly out of line."

"And who draws the line, Ellis? You? Alessa hired me - I work for her. I'd take no pay if it meant that you were going to call all the shots, since you have obviously made up your mind. Whose story do you believe? James Anderson? The LA Times? Maybe you bribed someone who was in the courtroom - the judge perhaps. It doesn't matter. I know the truth, I told the truth, and I wasn't found guilty." Oz moved forward and got very near the other man's face, "Your accusation doesn't make me guilty either, Ellis."

Ellis was seething with anger. He was Ellis Longwood and common criminals didn't talk to him like that. Oz had mentioned James Anderson, and Ellis remembered the name from the report. He would have to look into Mr. Anderson as well and see what leverage he could apply to Oz. The idea of an independent element like Oz so lose to Alessa made him nervous.

"No, it doesn't make you guilty," Ellis said after too many seconds of regaining his composure, "Nor does your denial make you innocent."

Oz blinked. Ellis smiled inside that Oz had never protested his innocence either. "So we are clear on the relationship, then, Mr. DeAngelo?"

Oz nodded. Ellis had found the one hole in Oz's pride. He was not guilty, but he was responsible. "You and I are clear, Mr. Longwood, but I still work for Alessa. And she's not one to take either of us at face value."

At that Ellis blinked. Oz crooked an eyebrow, *Wonder what nerve I stepped on there?* he thought but didn't press. There were too many boxes to be moved.

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***January 17th, 1945- Auschwitz Concentration Camp- 6:15 pm- FLASHBACK***

“Doctor, you wanted me for something?”

The infamous Dr. Josef Mengele stood over the white sink of his office, washing his hands vigorously. He turned to the Nazi officer and replied in German, “Yes, bring me one of the specimens. I want to conduct a few more experiments for the day.”

The officer, with large blue eyes questioned, “Which one? Another set of twins?”

Mengele dried his hands on a paper towel and moved towards his desk. He picked up a clipboard and reviewed it. After a moment, he announced, “Bring me A-8824.”

The officer nodded his head and left. The Angel of Death, as Mengele had been coined, walked to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a small vial filled with a vibrant purple liquid. After observing it for a moment, Josef slipped it into his coat pocket.

The officer returned; in front of him stood a small, dark skinned girl, her long, black hair draped over her shoulders while her brilliant brown eyes shone brightly despite the darkness of the winter months. Mengele gave a wide smile, the gap in his teeth showing as he reached into his desk and pulled out a small bag of candy.

The Angel of Death walked over to the little girl and placed the small bag of sweets in her miniature hand. Mengele continued to smile and said to the girl, even though she did not speak his native tongue, “We will be going into the lab now, okay?”

He dismissed the officer as he led the small girl to his lab. Josef sat the girl on a chair as she began to eat the candy from the bag. He turned around and from his pocket pulled out the vial. From a nearby drawer, Mengele took out a long needle which clearly had been used before and was unwashed. With the vial, he filled up the needle as a few of his assistants walked in.

Mengele turned around and greeted them. He moved past them and to the little girl. Within the blink of an eye, Josef injected the fluid into the girl known as A-8824, causing her to holler.

Her bag of candy was completely forgotten as she slid off her chair and onto the floor, screaming bloody murder. Although it was evident that her body was getting limp, the girl sprawled about the floor. The small, slim fingers that made up her hands were digging into the floor as tears poured from her eyes. But now, those brown eyes that had defined her were now the color of the liquid which had been injected into her.

Mengele, meanwhile, was busy taking down notes. His assistants looked at each other and then to their superior. One fixed his thick glasses and asked the Angel of Death, “Excuse me, doctor, but what on earth was that you injected into A-8824?”

The deranged doctor merely smiled as he continued his notes.

“When I was coming back from the front lines in Russia, I ran into this old Jewish woman outside Kiev. I was about to kill her on the spot, when she offered me a deal. In exchange for her freedom she would give me this special potion derived from the deepest magic. I told myself ‘what the hell’, so I agreed. I forgot all about it until I was looking through my cabinets the other day. I would rather have done this with both of the twins, but the other one I have plans for,” he explained.

By now the girl had calmed down and was breathing heavily as she lay face down on the floor, her head lying on her right cheek. Josef bent down and observed her glowing violet eyes, her body violently twitching. Immediately he began his scribbling.

Aloud, he spoke, “She’s blind, but it’s only temporary. Note that A-8824 will have its vision back in a few days.” Mengele rose from the floor and walked to the door, obviously in favor for a cigarette.

Before he could leave, one of the assistants called out, “Should we send this one to the crematorium?” Mengele turned back and looked at the little girl.

“No. Bring her back to the hospital. She’ll die sooner or later. But bring me her twin. There are a few more things I want to do before I turn in,” he ordered.

The assistants nodded their heads, picked up the sedated girl and took her limp body to the hospital, where other children were, dying…

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***April 9, 2007- Romania- 5:26 pm***

Apollonija stood at the kitchen counter, chopping up onions. As she was cutting through a specific onion, a knock came from the front door. She groaned, and then proceeded to move towards the kitchen window. Apollonija opened it, which showed Yolanda in the backyard with Polina.

She poked her head out and called, “Yolanda, could you get the front door? I’m busy with dinner.”

Polina, who was sitting Indian style on the ground, popped into the air and said, “I’ll get it.”

Yolanda, despite her age, quickly stood and grabbed Polina. She told her 16 year old granddaughter, “No, it might be another one of those anti-Romani people again. You stay here, I’ll only be gone for a minute.”

Yolanda walked around to the front of the house where, at her front door, were two well dressed men, despite the fact that they were in the middle of nowhere. It was clear that they were Westerners. She walked up to the proper men and asked in English, “Can I help you?”

The men quickly turned about, seeing the old woman standing there in loose-fitting black attire, her arms crossed.

One of the men smiled at her and spoke in a proper English voice, “Are you Mrs. Yolanda Lautari?”

Yolanda held her position like a statue until she replied, “Indeed, I am. Vat do you vant?”

The men moved closer to them, as the first gentleman continued, “Good day, madam. We’re from the Watchers’ Council and-”

“Ve’re not interested,” Yolanda spat, and turned to leave when the second man spoke.

“Mrs. Lautari, you seem not to be recognizing our good intentions toward you. If you will give us a minute of your time-”

“I von’t. Leave.” It was clearly evident that the elder visionary wanted nothing to do with them.

But the second man kept persisting, “We are giving you an opportunity to be a part of the Watchers’ Council. You are one of the best mages in Eastern Europe, we have come to the agreement that we want you fighting for our side.”

Yolanda turned away again, this time walking into her backyard. “I fight for your side, I just don’t fight vit you. T’e Romani alvays have fought for t’emselves, since no von vill help mere gypsies!” She spoke the last word harshly as she swung around to them.

The first gentleman began to speak, “We know it’s been a difficult life for your people. Especially you Mrs. Lautari…”

Yolanda stood in silence. The first man continued, “No one ever speaks up for your kind. Not now, not sixty-three years ago, back in France…” The elder Lautari continued her silence.

“Back in late 1944, there was enough tension that the Nazis sent gypsies to concentration camps along with the Jews. That year, some Romani were arrested in France, trying to escape to England. They were immediately sent to Auschwitz, the death camp. Amongst them, there were two twins. Twins were the specimen of choice for Dr. Josef Mengele, the infamous Angel of Death. During the last months of Auschwitz, these twins were performed on along with others. One of those two Romani twins is still alive today…”

“Gentlemen, leave NOW!” Yolanda shouted, her voice choked. Her brown eyes had swelled with tears.

From behind her, someone shouted in perfect English, “You heard her, leave!” There stood Polina. She stood with anger, her hands on her tiny waist. Her eyes focused on them.

The second man, trying to relieve the tension, commented, “You have very good English.”

Polina kept still. “My credit goes to American soap operas. Now get the fuck out of there!”

The men seemed a bit shocked at the girl’s use of foul language.

That phrase I learned from Quentin Tarintino films,” she told them, holding an American accent well.

The first man sighed and continued on, “Young lady, we’re busy with your grandmother so if you could just-”

“I live here, too, and I say get the fuck off my property!”

The second man whispered something into the first man’s ear, which caused some nodding.

“Fine, we will leave. Good day, Mrs. Lautari… Miss Lautari…” the first man said, pronouncing ‘miss’ rather nasty, and the two gentlemen left.

Polina turned to her grandmother, who had tears running down her cheeks. Yolanda was rubbing her left forearm. On the inner part of the forearm, a tattoo was imprinted there.

A-8824.


Introducing Natalia Lafourcade as Polina Lautari and reintroducing Anne Bancroft as Yolanda Lautari

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Hola-Meg-a-Cola's picture

***April 15th, 2007- Romania- 11:30 pm***

Polina dug through her drawers, in which most of her clothes were black. To be precise, nearly all of her possessions were black. She was what you would call the black sheep of the family - literally. Her gothic change frightened her mother and worried her father. Yolanda just said that all of that black reminded her of a mortician which reminds her that she’s going to die soon.

But, today, her wild behaviour drove her parents over the edge. She had snuck out for the last time, and they weren't going to take it. Something silly, yes, but it was the final straw for her parents. For nearly six months, reports from her school were claiming that she was skipping classes and getting into numerous fights.

It was evident now that Dmitri and Apollonija were dead set against Polina’s new change in life. So much, even, they considered sending to her to a reform school in Switzerland.

That was when the decision of running away arrived. It seemed logical to her, but then again, her hormones were raging at a hundred miles per hour and her rebellious anger and angst were at their peaks.

She had two sisters in America with a place to live. Surely they would let her stay for awhile to let their parents cool down.

Polina finally decided on a few sets of clothes and then shoved them into her black back pack. She took half of the underwear from her drawer along with her make up and pushed in them in the bag. The youngest Lautari also placed an extra set of sneakers in there before she zipped it up. Polina looked about the room when she lunged under her bed. There, she pulled out a fairly large case of CDs and a CD player and slipped them in the bag.

Through her desk drawer, she pulled out a passport, obviously her own. Polina mainly used it when she spent the summers with her uncle Enzo. She stuck in her pocket before she moved to her closet. Polina pulled out a normal black zip up jacket and a black pullover. The zip up was stuck in her bag while Polina put on the pullover.

She was ready. Polina was beginning to open the window when she realized she needed something extremely important. Money. Immediately, she darted to her mattress and lifted it up to find her saved up 4,097,460 Romanian leus, which equaled $120 in the U.S. and £66.73 in the United Kingdom.

Polina stuck the cash in her bag and sighed. She needed more if she wanted to get to America. The young Romani tip toed out of her room and into her parents’, where they were sound asleep. Polina quietly looked through Apollonija’s purse. The equivalent of $70 was in there, in which she only took $30 of it. She found Dmitri’s wallet, from which she took the same amount. She really didn’t like stealing from her parents, but they had pushed her too far for her teen angst to accept.

She returned to her room and proceeded to open the window. It was a long way down; better to shimmy down the drain pipe. Polina sighed and gently dropped her bag onto the patch of roof below her window. Slowly she climbed out the window and onto the roof. Polina slid her back pack on her shoulders and walked to the edge, where the drain pipe was.

Nervously, Polina grasped it tightly and placed her foot on it. Closing her eyes, she lifted the rest of her body on it and hugged the drain pipe. She began to breath heavily and tried to not look down. *Jesus, Polina, you’ve been in some shitty situations and you’re afraid of this?* Slowly, but surely, Polina shimmied her way down to the ground. She ran into the backyard, where she retrieved her bike.

Polina brought it out front and hopped on. For a second it seemed to go nowhere, but once she got pedalling down, she pedalled it onto the main road and rode off into the forest, never looking back.

Yolanda sat from her window, watching her granddaughter ride off. She merely looked down and shook her head. The elder visionary lifted herself from her seat and walked over to a shelf, where a picture of all her grandchildren sat; including Sergei’s, who weren’t even related to her.

She lit a small white candle and sat it near Polina’s picture. From her pocket, Yolanda placed a card of St. Dymphna by the candle. She knelt on the ground, held a rosary between her hands and began murmuring a prayer.


St. Dymphna, patron saint of nervous and mental inflictions and runaways

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

James_Connor's picture

Sunday, 15th April 2007

James and Darlome walked quietly along the hall to Vincent’s penthouse suite, and with each step James thought of what he could say to make the kid come back with him.

James had learned from some underworld sources that the kid was doing some pretty bad shit even by demon standards. Every informant he had asked about the kid had said the same stuff: Vincent had formed a group with two other teens and was causing a lot of trouble – hell, they even beat up some poor bastard at a church.

As they reached the door to Vince’s apartment, Darlome went to knock but was stopped by James clutching his wrist. “Skippy, I’ll go alone. I think it’s better if it comes from me.”

Darlome nodded and backed off down the hall, to make sure Vince wouldn’t see him when he answered the door.

Vincent walked towards the door and opened it to see the face of his father figure. “Hello, James. What do you want?” he asked in a bothered tone.

James showed a face of slight irritation by the way Vincent had spoken to him, but shrugged it off and pushed his way in through the door and walked into the living room. He turned to look at his boy and was about to start speaking but was cut off by Vince.

“How the hell could you get in here without me inviting you in?”

James looked perplexed to why the kid wouldn’t want him in his home. “Well for one I own this place.”

Vincent shrugged and headed towards the couch, but James caught him by the arm and gave him a disapproving gaze. “Vince, I have been hearing stuff about you and Cole… I just want to know if it’s true. I want to hear you say it isn’t true and everyone is having a big laugh at me.”

Vincent gave a grin which sent shivers up James’ spine. *So that’s what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that,* he thought.

“Well James, what did you hear? Was it the one where we set fire to that hive of vampires, or was it that I crushed the skull of a kraskian demon ? You really have to get to specifics here, we have really been raising hell these days.”

James growled at Vince and began to speak with a raised voice. “What the hell are you doing this for? It’s not like they did anything to you, kid. Half the fucking demons in this town know to stay the fuck away from you ’cause your with me, but yet you go around killing anything that displeases you. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Vince didn’t even bother shouting because he knew the words would reach home. “I think I am some bastard child that was raised by a vampire.”

By the look on James’ face, the verbal attack had obviously stung quite a bit. “Kid, I did the best I could for you, but what you are doing is out of order.”

Vince gave James a scowl and turned to walk off, but was stopped by James tugging on his shoulder causing him to turn full circle.

The vampire was about to speak, but Vincent had had enough. Placing his hands on his father’s chest, he forced his mental powers out through them as if they were lightning rods. In the blink of an eye, James went flying through the balcony window, crashing down to the street far below.

Darlome ran full speed and fly kicked the door taking it off its hinges, scanning the scene in the room. Vincent’s hand device was still glowing from what looked to have been a very powerful telekinetic blast, one that had smashed the window and everything facing the balcony.

“Kid, what the hell did you just do?!”

Vincent gave a wide-toothed grin. “James thought he could tell me what to do with my life... No one tells me what to do.”

Darlome’s eyed widened with fear and rage as he walked quickly to the balcony and looked down onto the street below to see James lying limp in a dumpster. Darlome whirled round to look at the kid and went into game face; his skin darkened, while simultaneously growing long protruding spikes.

“Kid, what the fuck did you just do?! That’s fucking James, kid, he saved our fucking lives on so many occasions, and you fucking do that?” Darlome moved closer to Vincent. “Kid, fucking speak will ya?”

The only answer Darlome got was a telekinetic blast sending him flying across the room and slamming into a wall.

“Skippy, I am seriously not in the mood for all this royalty shit.” Vincent gestured towards the TV and sent it hurtling across the room only to crash into the wall as Darlome rolled out the way.

Darlome rushed towards the kid while collecting energy in his hand. In a quick gesture, he sent the small ball of magic flying hard into the kid’s chest, throwing Vincent across the room.

Darlome dusted himself off and growled, “You’re lucky I care for you kid, or I would have put more power into that.”

“Shove it,” Vince spat, as he attempted to use his telekinesis again.

However, this time he did not achieve the same results. Darlome simply raised his hand, easily dissipating the energy of the mind attack. A flick of the wrist sent another bolt crackling into Vincent. Darlome frowned as he saw the expression of pain etch itself on the boy’s face.

“You’re not leaving me a choice Vince,” he sighed, throwing yet another bolt – it never reached its target. Much like had happened with Vince’s attack, Darlome’s fizzled into nothing before reaching its target.

“Tsk tsk. How rude of you; attacking Vince in his own house,” Cole laughed, standing in the broken remains of the doorway. “Someone should teach you some manners.”

Darlome was caught off guard as Cole’s spell propelled dark energy into him. Tiny strands of black lightning danced its way over the demon’s skin, searing the flesh it contacted.

“Not fun being on the receiving end is it?” Cole smirked.

As soon as Darlome hit the floor, he dragged himself to his feet again - this time with bloody vengeance in his eyes. Darlome swiped his hand in an arcing motion across the room and sent a large wave of force rippling outwards, causing Cole to dive behind the couch just in time to avoid the attack. The walls shook in response to the spell.

By this time Vincent was on his feet again and had made his way over to the distracted demon. In one rapid jerk, he kicked the man in his left leg, dropping him to his knees. Vincent tried a left hook, but wasn’t expecting Darlome to head but him in the groin.

“Sorry about this, kid,” Darlome said as he grabbed the kid’s head and forced it down on his knee, mashing his nose.

Darlome looked up in time to see Cole firing a blast his way, which he quickly ducked. He contemplated pulling his gun and just ending the little bastard then and there, but hesitated. “Cole ! I saved your life once. I don’t want to take it tonight.”

“Don’t worry about that, cause I have no intentions of dying tonight.”

Cole’s finger’s whizzed, tracing arcane sigils into the air. ”Umbra tempestas,” he whispered, igniting the latent power of the runes. Red mist suddenly appeared, engulfing the demon in its terrible embrace. “Say night night asshole,” the boy laughed, thinking the game was over.

Had Darlome been some common spell caster, it would have been. The mist should have sucked away his vigour, leaving him weak and defenseless, but to Cole’s dismay and disbelief, Darlome had managed to gather enough strength to break the curse.

“Pretty good Cole, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Darlome retorted, impressed with the boy’s skill. But the admiration wasn’t going to make him any more merciful; this needed to be ended. Pointing at the shadows in the room, the demon called forth ancient magic, known by few who still walked the earth. Bending to the will of their master, the shades began to sway and take form. A moment later, large tentacles swam through the room, wrapping themselves around Cole’s skinny body.

“What the hell?!” Cole screamed as the vice-like monsters tightened their grip, gradually crushing his ribs.

“You know those things could be a whole lot more dangerous if I was feeling rather nasty. I could have made them with blades or spikes, but for now I think I’ll just have them knock you out,” Darlome said as he watched the helpless kid struggle against his minions.

Darlome suddenly felt the telekinetic force slam hard once against into his body. Before he knew what had happened, he was being propelled out the towards the balcony and finally straight out the window, following in James’ footsteps. Words of power came rushing to his lips, but it was too late; the force of the impact sent his mind reeling.

James’ eyes fluttered open and was met with the stench of the dumpster and the bright glow of the street light which hurt his eyes. As soon as he tried to move, he felt the sharp digging pain in his chest. Groaning, he started to count all the broken bones: four cracked ribs and one punctured lung. He chuckled as he thought, *I would never thought I’d be happy about being dead already.* Stepping up out of the dumpster, his eyes caught hold of what had made the noise to wake him.

James looked down at the broken and bloody body of his best friend Dh`arlo`méaftris.

“Skippy!”

James jumped out of the dumpster and rushed to the aid of his friend. “Don’t worry,” he said to the motionless body, as he reached for his cell and dialled 911.

Progress Report

Meredith Bell's picture

Monday, 16 April 2007 – 9:30am – The Residence of The Ministry, Beverly Hills

Introducing Sam Neill as Professor Elliot Zimmerman

Elliot Zimmerman smiled as he walked out onto the sunlit terrace. It was a beautiful, warm April morning and he was enjoying the feeling of the sun upon his face. It was a marked difference to the sort of weather he was used to enduring and he had to admit that he more than appreciated the change in climate, even if he would only be able to experience it for a short while before his return to Europe.

He spread his hands out on the wrought-iron railing that edged the terrace, looking down at the courtyard below which was filled with bright, colourful flowers that entwined themselves around a series of arches and brickwork that made up the delightfully rural structure. Beyond, he could see the ocean in the far distance, glittering and shimmering in the sunlight, while behind him soared a wilderness of mountains into which the building had been painstakingly carved so that it almost appeared to rise out of the rock face itself.

Elliot breathed in the fresh morning air and exhaled slowly; the location was perfect for the undertaking he had committed himself to. When the time was right it would be the hub of The Ministry’s operations in Los Angeles. The man smiled to himself at that thought, his gentle yet subtly unnerving features twisting into something more ominous.

Soon the time for waiting would be over; he could feel it in every fibre of his body. His last visit to Los Angeles in February and his contact with subject 1312 had only confirmed his long held belief that Catherine Eldridge was one of the three Chosen that would lead The Ministry when the Dark Age arrived. Her natural ability, her raw power that lay virtually undiscovered, made him tremble with anticipation that he had been the one to see it. She had such potential! More than any other witch he’d ever come into contact with. And soon she would be his.

Elliot could barely contain himself at that thought, he had been so patient over the many years leading up to this moment but now that it was almost upon him he could discern a slight… impatience, or perhaps it was excitement? Either way it was infused deeply into every one of his senses.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Sir.”

It was the voice of Aimes Carmichael, low and resonate with a slight hint of apprehension. It shattered Elliot’s solitude in the same way that the shell of an egg might yield to the force of a mallet.

“We are all assembled, if you would be so good as to join us?”

Slowly Elliot turned to face his associate. He had a large amount of faith in Carmichael’s abilities to oversee his progeny but lately he’d heard rumours that had prompted his early arrival in Los Angeles. He was anxious to put such gossip and speculation to rest though he would not be truly satisfied until he had managed to make contact with Catherine directly.

“That I will, Mr Carmichael,” he said, removing his dark sunglasses to reveal a pair of dark, glittering eyes that seemed to reflect an aura of inner power and unshakeable determination, “That I will.”

As Carmichael led the way inside, Elliot took the time to admire the interior of the newly acquired property. The building was exceptionally attractive and a vast improvement on the succession of crumbling, dilapidated apartments and lofts that his two associates had been forced to abide in while waiting for the lease on this particular property to become available. The two men walked in silence as they made their way to a moderately sized but comfortable looking drawing room. Dr Gemmel and Dragomir were already seated, yet rose to their feet as their illustrious leader entered the room.

“Professor…” began Michael Gemmel, moving to pay his allegiance to the great man. Elliot Zimmerman was one of the most powerful men in The Ministry of Magic. His research in the field of Sciagic had furthered their organisation more in the last two years than ever before. “It’s an honour to finally meet with you. I’m an avid follower of your work, it really is a pleasure to be in the presence of such an extraordinary mind…”

Elliot nodded cordially, accepting the good doctor’s adulation in the way that one might tolerate the attentions of an over enthusiastic puppy. Dr Gemmel was only involved in this project because of his knowledge of the White Hat resistance. His previous failure in the Immortality Project still made him a liability in Elliot's eyes – an opinion that he was still waiting to be disproved.

“Well, we shall wait and see if I can return the compliment,” Elliot replied curtly, seating himself down into a hard leather lounger while he waited for the other three men to do the same.

“Now then, gentlemen,” he said officially, sitting up straight and lacing his fingers together thoughtfully, “I’ve read your report but I would like to know first hand, just what is the status of subject 1312?”

“Stable,” confirmed Michael Gemmel quickly, glancing at his cohorts before returning his focus to his superior. “She was released from Los Angeles County Hospital just over three weeks ago and we have been monitoring her condition closely.”

Elliot flicked through the copy of Carmichael’s report that he’d been faxed just a few days ago. “This was following the unexpected miscarriage in the middle of last month?”

“That’s correct,” said Gemmel, clearing his throat as he glanced sideways at the demon Der Drahtzieher. The truth was none of them could be sure whether it had been his intervention that had caused such an event to occur or whether it was an earlier factor. The one saving grace was the fact that it hadn’t been mentioned in any of Seer Longstein’s weekly predictions – though that factor alone was probably the reason behind Zimmerman’s decision to fly over there.

“Dr Gemmel made sure that subject 1312 was properly medicated and made comfortable. It was his expertise that probably saved her life in the interim,” added Carmichael.

Gemmel smiled proficiently at Zimmerman, trying his hardest to keep his disdain under control. While Carmichael’s words were true he couldn’t help but feel that it had been the actions of Der Drahtzieher that had left the girl in such a precarious condition to begin with. That day three weeks ago when they had first approached the Eldridge homestead… it still made him shudder to think of the state that poor girl had been in. Maybe Carmichael was right, maybe he was getting soft in his old age, but that woman had been close to death and would probably be so if it hadn't been for his own expert attentions over the past two weeks.

“So far things look… satisfactory.”

Gemmel and Carmichael both released a sigh of relief without thinking, glancing at one another before trying to regain their composure beneath Zimmerman’s alert gaze. To Dragomir it was amusing to see two grown men so flustered and nervous, like little school boys.

Elliot stroked his chin with the edge of this thumb while he re-read the report; although he knew the details intimately it was imperative not to overlook anything that might have, at a first glance, appeared unimportant.

“The husband left about a month ago, and our good friend Jack Archer has not yet returned from his business in Virginia.”

“That’s correct.”

“The group that call themselves The White Hats has officially disbanded.”

“Several members had already fallen victim to the virus that was outlined back in March but officially, the last meeting was some weeks ago and no attempt at a reformation has been made so far as our intelligence has been able to uncover.”

“Good… good…” mused Elliot, lost in his own thoughts. “It simply wouldn’t do for that bunch of do-gooders to impede my plans. Well, it appears that Ambrose’s little virus has managed to aid our work here more than we originally anticipated.”

“About Mr Delancre…” began Gemmel, looking around tentatively.

“Yes?”

“While I agree that the Hyde virus has certainly helped to further alienate the girl from the other members of this White Hat organisation I can’t help but have… concerns. Intel has shown that his designs are in opposition to our own, his demonic army is particularly strong and without this White Hat resistance in place, who is going to stop him?”

Carmichael cleared his throat, leaning forward from his chair. “The details Jack Archer provided us with clearly placed this Natasha Brookes woman as the leader of the organisation, recent intel would also suggest that she had become one of Mr Delancre's allies. Mr Tek, Mr Barrington… both are dead. It is unlikely that any of the others have the fortitude to lead such an attack.”

“In essence,” added Gemmel resolutely, “it may be necessary to doctor an… intervention. We managed to obtain a few specimens that have been infected and believe we are close to finding a method that would enable us to purge the virus from the city.”

Elliot looked thoughtful. It was true that Ambrose had grown in power and influence far beyond their expectations and in such a short space of time had amassed a considerable army. Still, the effect of the Hyde virus had aided their endeavour insomuch as it had helped to disassemble the only REAL resistance in the city. He was reluctant to do anything that might help re-establish a potential, future enemy. As it was, the White Hats were fractured, friends fighting against friends and blind to the real cause of the discord.

Yes, Ambrose Delancre was a powerful man indeed.

“Continue in your endeavours Doctor Gemmel,” he said finally, laying the report to one side, “but we shall exercise prudence in this matter. I do not wish to assist these rebels unless it is absolutely necessary. We cannot, of course, allow Ambrose to be successful in whatever his plans may be.”

“Maybe we should pay this Mr Delancre a visit?” ventured Dragomir. Though he knew little of the man in question he was curious of anyone who could inspire hesitation and uncertainty in such powerful and practised men as those gathered here today.

“That might not be such a good idea,” interrupted Carmichael. “As far as we are aware, Delancre is not conscious of our observational status in the city. It might be best if we kept it that way. He appears to be more interested in the faction known as the Ghosts anyway. I think our energies would be better employed in finding the solution to the Hyde virus.”

“Carmichael is right,” agreed Elliot, rising to his feet and walking over to the fireplace where he leaned, staring into the empty hearth contemplatively. “Though it might be provident to whisper a few select words into various ears back at the Watchers’ Council. Delancre’s influence there may be substantial but it is not by any means absolute. M.o.M. may not have the authority to issue a direct release but the rumour machine is still active – it may be all we need to sow the seeds of doubt about Ambrose’s motives in Los Angeles.”

“Even though we don’t yet know what they are ourselves?”

Elliot returned his gaze to Doctor Gemmel and smiled. “I don’t think that will be an issue for much longer. You have not the fortune of knowing Ambrose in the same way that I do – for that you should be thankful. Never have I met a man so proud of his perversions, but pride is his greatest vice and it will no doubt be his downfall. If I know him as well as I think I do he must be feeling very pleased with his progress so far; he will begin to let his guard slip soon enough, and when he makes his move I expect you to be ready.”

*Oh great,* thought Gemmel in annoyance, *Two demons and a human against the zealous ambition of a perverse and powerful megalomaniac with an army of demonic hybrid soldiers ready to fulfil his every command – no contest.*

“As for the girl,” intoned Elliot severely, overriding the insubordinate postulations of the good doctor, “you will continue to observe her as you have been. The next few days will be of some significance. You have given her the artefact I take it?”

“It is already in her possession, Sir,” replied Carmichael reverently.

“Good, then keep up the good work. This girl is too important to get caught up in the crossfire. You are to cease Mr Drahtzieher’s line of… treatment, I don’t want to take any unnecessary risks from now on.”

Elliot resumed his seat and sighed tiredly. He had such a heavy burden upon him sometimes it was difficult to keep one’s eye on the bigger picture. “I’ve watched her for too long to lose her now. She is a unique find gentlemen; all I ask of you is to monitor her condition and bring her to me when the time is right. You know when that is. Until then you will follow my instructions to the letter, do you understand?”

The three men all nodded in accordance.

“Very well,” said Elliot, standing to his feet again with an air of finality. “Then I shall bid you good day. We shall meet again soon.”

Galen Thinks at Work

Meredith Bell's picture

Monday, 16 April 2007 – 11:15am – Los Angeles Police Department

The platinum ring spun faster, faster on the table until with a loud crescendo it slowed to a halt. Galen picked it up between two fingers and spun it again, watching the silver blur as it spun round and round on the smooth, hard surface of his desk.

Marriage was like that, he thought grimly, like a dizzying whirlwind that one got swept up in, being spun around forever with your feet never touching the ground, never finding a safe place until suddenly and without warning, everything stopped.

“Hey,” came the familiar voice of James Anderson as he slumped down at his desk opposite Galen, “How you holding up?”

Galen held his wedding ring between his thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light and rotated it in his fingers, reading the fine, delicate scribe engraved on the inside, the letters swirling and looping together.

“I love thee in life and beyond,” he said to himself quietly, smiling morosely before looking up at his partner. He’d returned to active duty only last week and despite his most fervent hope that it might somehow take his mind off his problems, it hadn’t.

“I’ve never taken this off before, you know that?” he said with a reminiscent sigh. “Not once since the day Kate put it there.”

James pulled his chair up closer to that of his partner and echoed his sigh, “You still staying at that Motel downtown?”

Galen nodded.

“You talked to Kate at all? Since you left I mean.”

Galen shrugged, “Just once.” That had been at the last White Hat meeting – with emphasis on the word ‘last’. He still couldn’t believe how that day had unfolded; Kate’s unusual manner, although he guessed most of that was in response to her finding out about him and Daye, but there was also Tash’s uncharacteristic cruelty. The things she had said to Kate had been unkind beyond necessity, especially coming from a woman who had been a close friend of theirs practically since the beginning. He just couldn’t fathom it out, first Amanda and now Tash? What was happening to everyone lately?

He slowly levelled his eyes to meet those of James Anderson, realising he was still hanging on his last words. “She knows,” he said finally with a heavy sigh.

“About you and…?”

Galen nodded again. James sighed in response, running a hand through his greying hair.

“Well… at least it’s all out in the open I guess. No more secrets? How’d she take it?”

Galen shrugged again uncomfortably. “I don’t know. She told her, and it sounded like she took a lot of pleasure in doing so too. Kate… she was angry and hurt…” Galen shook his head in dismay. More than anything he wished he’d had a chance to explain, or just to talk, but Kate had left without giving him that luxury. He sighed again. “I guess I knew how it would be. She said… at least now we’re even.”

“There is that,” agreed James.

“You think so?” asked Galen doubtfully. “You think it’s so easy just to wipe the slate clean?”

“I think things are as easy or as hard as you want to make them,” said James decisively after a while. “Look at it this way, you can continue to despise Kate for what she did, you can let that drive the two of you apart forever, or you could always forgive her.”

He leaned on the desk; his eyes fixed on Galen’s. “You know now how easy it is to make such a mistake and you know how it feels to be on both sides, the betrayer, the betrayed. You can correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t believe that Kate did any of this intentionally, not the affair, not sleeping with this total bozo – it was just a grief thing. You told me you loved her and I may be out of line saying this but behind the hurt and the anger, I think there’s a very good chance that she still loves you. Don’t you think so?”

Galen sat silently, trying to think. After the past month since he’d moved out he hadn’t been able to come up with any sort of solution and finding out that Kate knew about his liaison with Daye, well that had only made matters worse.

He stared at the picture that stood propped up on his desk. It showed him and Kate together at a party they had attended a few months ago when one of his buddies in the precinct got himself engaged.

Galen smiled sadly as he looked at the photograph; they’d been so happy back then with hardly a care in the world. He wished more than anything that he could go back to that moment, with Lewis Brady running around taking snapshots of everyone, making them all laugh with his goofy jokes and Anderson shouting at his kids to stop dragging one another across the dance floor.

“Why don’t you go and see her?” urged James after a moment’s silence, observing the direction of Galen’s eyes. “She’s your wife; the two of you lost your daughter barely two months ago. At the very least go see how she is.”

Galen sighed wearily. Of course the thought had crossed his mind several times in the past couple of weeks; even starting back on active duty hadn't been enough to take his mind off things. Somehow he had allowed one week to slip into two and then three… He could hardly believe so much time had passed, almost three weeks since the final White Hat meeting at Poplar Avenue. How could he have left it so long?

He nodded finally in agreement. “You’re right. It’s the least I can do, I’ll go see her after work.”

Jack's Back

Meredith Bell's picture

Monday, 16 April 2007 – 1:34pm – The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge

Jack paid the cab driver and watched him as he drove away down the street. The meetings between the Alliance and the Order of Valor were still ongoing but after five unanswered phone calls and three messages to which he’d received no reply, he had finally decided enough was enough and returned to Los Angeles on the next available flight.

He didn’t know what was going on at home but he had the most unsettling feeling in his stomach. It was the kind of feeling that told him something bad had happened, the kind of feeling you just couldn’t in all good conscience ignore.

He walked steadily up the porch to the front door and reached for the handle. He frowned suddenly, the muscles in his face hardening as the door swung open without him even turning the knob. Warily Jack dropped his bag on the floor as he pushed the front door fully open.

His mouth gaped in shock and he stumbled inside, a sense of panic rising as he took in the sight of the house. Furniture was overturned, some of it broken, pictures hung crookedly on the walls along with many strange runic symbols that had been drawn on the floral wallpaper with thick black charcoal. Jack eyed the markings warily; he thought he recognised some of them as ancient symbols of protection while others appeared to be some kind of incantation written in Theban script.

Slowly he walked through the house. Each threshold was marked with a thick line of salt and groups of candles and crystals seemed to reside wherever he turned. In congruence to the markings on the walls there were also a number of pentagrams and triangles containing equally baffling runes and symbols sketched all over the wooden floorboards in a dark red chalk.

Jack grew increasingly worried as he searched the house until, finally, his eyes fell on the huddled form of his daughter half-hidden beneath the eaves of the staircase.

“Kate,” he breathed in terror, running over to where she sat gathered into a ball, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs and her face buried into her knees. “Oh my god…” he said in shock, kneeling at her side and stroking the back of her head. She was so thin and trembling uncontrollably. His senses told him immediately that something was wrong; she just didn’t feel like his daughter, not at all. She felt scared, terrified and overwrought with a consuming sensation of sorrow and desolation.

“Oh my god, Kate… What happened?” Jack asked gently as Kate lifted her head up to face him. He gasped when he saw the look in her eyes, hollow and frightened.

Kate looked up at Jack, feeling almost like he was a stranger, some memory from a happy time long gone. Her lips quivered and she had to bite her lower lip to regain some control. “Daddy?” she asked forlornly, tears gathering in her eyes as Jack leaned in and wrapped his strong arms around her.

“Oh my little girl,” Jack soothed as he held her close, stroking her back lovingly.

Kate held her face against her father’s broad shoulder, drying her eyes on the soft wool of his sweater. His strength, his warmth, the safe scent of him - it surrounded her and she wept tears of relief, her hold on to him tightening as she cried.

“Shhhh,” he soothed quietly at the sudden rush of her thoughts that fell in upon him. He pulled back gently, his hands on either side of her face, tangled in her messy locks as he forced himself to take in the severity of the emotion he was feeling from her.

“No…” moaned Kate anxiously, pushing his hands away from her, “don’t read me… You won’t like what you find.”

“Okay, okay,” said Jack carefully, stroking the back of her head tenderly. “Why don’t you tell me what’s been going on. Where is Galen?”

“Gone,” said Kate simply, looking into the distance. “He was my North, my South, my East and West, my working week and Sunday rest. My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.”

Jack shook his head in confusion, eyeing his daughter with concerned worry. “Gone? Wha-” he stopped mid-sentence, realising that he was unlikely to get a rational answer, whatever had happened in the weeks that he’d been gone it had brought Kate to the very precipice of sanity.

“I’m so sorry,” he said softly, looking deep into her eyes. “I should never have left you.”

“Everybody leaves,” intoned Kate resolutely, “Life is change, you adapt …or die.”

“I will never leave you again,” Jack said firmly, cupping her face in his hands in determination. “You hear me Kate? I will never leave you. Never.”

“I thought he would come,” said Kate sadly, “but he didn’t, he never came back.”

“Galen?” asked Jack softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “When was the last time you saw him?”

Kate shrugged, “I lost count… weeks, I guess it was weeks.”

Jack frowned, “You’ve been here alone for all that time?”

“Not alone,” insisted Kate with a shake of her head, “Never alone, never… he comes and taunts me… beats me…” Kate pulled down the shoulder of her sweater to show several ugly looking bruises that looked like they went much further than Jack could see.

“I thought he was dead!” moaned Kate pitifully, “Maybe… maybe… he haunts me in a way that only the dead can.”

Jack shook his head in confusion, “Who?” His fingers gently traced the path of the bruises on her shoulder, wincing uncomfortably. “Who did this to you?”

Kate looked up at Jack with wide, fearful eyes. “He brings me my punishment, he knows what I’ve done, what I am… he tells me that I have to pay and I do… I pay… I hear him all the time, he’s in my head, in my dreams… they all are with their whisperings. What did I do? What did I do for them all to hate me so?”

She shook her head in despair, “My, my spells don’t work… they don’t keep them out! I’ve, I’ve tried everything!”

Consumed with desperation she picked up the stick of red chalk that lay by her bare toe and continued to sketch a series of symbols on the floor. “I must protect myself… I, I must keep them all out, out of my home, out of my mind. Evil that dares to harm me, heed my decree, the light of mighty Gaia protect all that abide, Cingi Aversabilis Malus!

“Kate… KATE!” said Jack insistently, trying to regain his daughter’s attention as she crawled across the floor, smudging her earlier markings in her feverish, almost obsessional need to create new ones. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up to face him again. Kate looked shocked, almost surprised to see him there and she shook her head furiously from side to side.

“No, you must let me go, let me finish… I can’t stop, they might come here at any moment. It is my duty to protect this house and everyone in it from evil.”

“Kate… we’re the only ones here,” said Jack carefully, continuing to hold her despite her protests.

“But not for long,” Kate smiled, dropping her chalk momentarily, “Soon… soon…” her voice trailed off portentously, “And I must make sure this house is safe for when the time is right. I won’t let bad things happen again Jack, not again… never again…”

Jack watched impotently as Kate resumed her frantic drawing, mumbling incantations as she worked. He shook his head in consternation, “Kate… you need help… will you let me call a doctor?”

Kate sat up straight and looked at her father in confusion. “I don’t need help, they came to see me, took care of me when no one else cared, they were there for me. They love me, they want me to be one of them.” She tilted her head to one side contemplatively, “I told them I’d think about it. They thought that was funny. I’ve never heard such laughter.”

The frown on Jack’s forehead increased in its severity. “Who? Who are ‘they’ Kate?”

Kate paused for a long while, thinking about Jack’s question before smiling to herself. “The magi, the three wise men… guardian angels. They came to me like a glittering oasis of hope in the desert of despair… they are my friends. I don’t have to be afraid anymore,” she looked up into Jack’s eyes warmly, “They told me what I had to do to make things better, to make things as they were before. It’s so simple… I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

“What did they tell you to do?” asked Jack, his voice taught with fear.

Kate shook her head. “I’m not allowed to say. It’s a secret. They warned me not to tell, I owe them my life Jack, I cannot break my word. They are all I have… They take care of me, they, they speak good words into my ears. If… if I lose them…”

“You have me,” insisted Jack, holding her tightly by the shoulders. He didn’t like the sound of this at all. Either someone had really gotten to Kate or… or she was losing her mind. Right now he wasn’t sure which he was wanting to be true. “You have your other friends, the… the, White Hats.”

Kate laughed loudly, her voice echoing in the empty house. “The White Hats are no more, Jack,” she sighed tiredly, looking lost as she stared into the distance, “Tash took care of that. She is like the others, empty inside, happy only when she stares into the abyss. Oh Jack! I have no other friends, but I’m not sad… I don’t need other friends anymore. Soon, soon I will have my life back.”

Jack looked sad. If Kate had been sat in this house on her own for the past… well god only knew how long! Having to cope with what appeared to be the break up of her marriage and her grief over Emma – not to mention whatever else had happened! Well, he could understand how that might affect her sanity.

“Kate sweetheart?” he said gently, stroking her cheek, “Why don’t I take you upstairs? You can get some rest, proper rest… and I really should get a doctor to come see you, okay? You really don’t look well.”

“Why do you care so much about me Jack?” she asked suddenly, “You barely know me. You abandoned me when I was just five-years-old, you let my mother down and she died because of it. How can you even stand to look at me? You have a whore for a daughter, everybody knows it.”

Jack frowned in concern, taking Kate firmly by the hands. “You’re not going to push me away Kate, so you can just stop saying things like that now, understand? I won’t let you drive me from you, I won’t abandon you. And you are certainly not a whore Kate, where would you get such an idea from?”

Kate shook her head in dismay. Jack was about to take her hand and help her up when suddenly she gripped her head firmly in both her hands, struggling to hold back her cries of pain.

“Uh… no!” she moaned loudly, staggering to her feet and swaying uneasily as she screwed her eyes shut in pain. “No… not again!”

Jack leapt to his feet in horror, following Kate in her blind, dizzying pace, a hard frown clouding his features. “Kate?” he called out, not sure if he should try and help her or let her weather out whatever was happening to her on her own. “Kate! What is it? What’s happening?”

“Visions…” She grimaced in pain, gripping the sides of her head, her eyes rolling back as she struggled to cope with the force of the images that she was seeing. “STOP IT!” she screamed to the heavens, “Leave me be!”

Jack looked horrified but took Kate into his arms, trying to calm her down. “It’s okay… it’s okay…” he soothed gently, stroking her back. “What do you see?”

Kate closed her eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. “The armies of the night descending… their eyes burn in the darkness, I can’t look at them… fearsome warriors of death raining carnage and blood on the land… blood, all I see is blood…” She shook her head in pain. “No more… I don’t want to see no more…”

Jack held her tightly, pressing her head against his chest protectively. “Shhh,” he soothed gently, feeling more terrified and lost than he had ever felt in his whole life. “I’m here…” he assured her in a manner that only a father could. “I’m here now… everything, everything’s going to be okay.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Allyana's picture

Monday, April 16th 2007
2:11 am
The ‘big house’

Alessa removed her robe and slipped naked into the warm, sapphire-coloured water of the swimming pool. The room housing the pool had a jungle-like ambience, a high skylight let the sun light filter inside and a forest of lush plants surrounded it. The pool itself was large, lagoon-like, actually, and the hot and humid air added to the illusion. At the moment, the only lights were those inside the water and the moon shining through the skylight.

Lazily, Alessa swam to the deepest area of the pool. The water seemed to cradle her as she turned on her back to float. Her hair spilled out around her, and her nipples hardened, reminding her how desperately she had wanted – and still wanted – the man she had left sleeping in her bed.

The desire was instinctive and didn’t answer to anything she had felt before. It was like a wild beast inside her, waiting to be awakened, and not even Ellis’ possessive demeanour could subdue it. He infuriated and exasperated her sometimes but she just found herself responding every time he touched her, even those times she tried not to show it.

Alessa sighed, floating quietly upon the water, and closed her eyes. She had been with Ellis for almost a month now. He had delayed his return to England and managed his company from the LA offices, making trips here or there as need arose, but coming back to her as soon as he finished his business. Ellis said that the company was like a well-oiled machine, working automatically without much need of him But the truth was that his need of her was as great as hers, although she suspected she infuriated him as much as he did her too.

*** flashback ***
March 25th
night

“You’re quite the most unusual female I’ve ever known, Miss Alessandra María Hunt.”

She winced. “Please, I hate the name María. Such a common name.” Alessa sat up in the bed and retrieved her underwear from the floor where it had disorderly fallen dawn.

“María was a great woman,” he said, watching her slender back and feeling himself wanting her again, as violently as he’d wanted her but a few minutes ago. “She got the unwavering devotion of thousands, as you have mine.”

“My nanny named me like that. She thought the Virgin’s name would help me forfeit my demon side.” She snorted, her movements brisk as she strapped her bra. “Silly old woman.”

Ellis frowned, trying to understand her discomfort while he struggled for the presence not to leap upon her in mindless lust again. He got the feeling that she was only half listening to him; something had alarmed her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rising to caress her back. Most probably his mentioning ‘anything’ regarding his feelings for her.

Abruptly, she sprang off the bed, turned to him and smiled brightly. “Nothing at all, Ellis. Can't you see how shattering your very presence is? You make love to me, turn me into a screaming madwoman, and then expect me to make sense.” She made a chuckling sound, and leant to kiss him lightly. “Not good at all.”

He blinked at her. Her mood changed like a flickering fire. He sighed, sat up and pulled her down beside him again.

“You are doing it again, dear,” he purred, and watched at the lovely shape of her breasts, clad in the flimsy lace of the bra. His finger drew a line over the delicate fabric, taking pleasure in the goose bumps forming in her skin.

“Doing what?” Alessa groaned, closing her eyes and trying to fight the feeling.

“Trying to make me forget my questions by seducing me.”

Alessa wet her lips. “Is… is it working?” she whispered.

“Oh, yes,” he answered, pushing her backwards on the bed again, “for now.”

*** end of flashback ***

Alessa kicked her feet and tossed back her wet hair, swiming towards the tiled edge of the pool. She climbed out of the water and took a towel from the shiny brass stand next to the pool.

“Well, he’ll get used to my ways, I guess.” Alessa muttered, wrapping a towel around herself, and starting to rub her hair with another. Then she laughed and just willed her hair to recede and then appear again, this time completely dry.

She had been practicing her morphing abilities, and they were improving. Changing was effortless, easy and simple. Long gone were the hours of concentration she had had to go through in the past. She hadn't given it a lot of thought, though, but her guess was that she was accepting herself more.

“I’m getting good at this,” she gloated, as she walked towards her bedroom again.

Just You Friendly Neighbourhood Witch Doctor

Meredith Bell's picture

Monday, 16 April 2007 – 3:00pm – The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge

Jack paced the corridor outside Kate’s bedroom steadily as he waited for the doctor to emerge with his diagnosis. ‘Witch Doctor’ Carlisle Wallis had been a trusted friend and physician to Jack for years, ever since he had married Kate’s mother in fact. Though the man was in no shape or form a mage himself, he was well educated in all matters of the occult and welcomed the opportunity to help bring healing to those with less than ‘normal’ illnesses.

He heard several protests from Kate as the time slowly ticked by, followed by hushed but firm words from Carlisle. Jack resisted the urge to enter the room - but just barely. As much as he trusted his old friend it took a huge amount of self-control to stop himself from heeding the call of his daughter.

Slowly the door opened.

“So?” Jack asked urgently as the old man withdrew from the bedroom and silently closed the door behind him. “What do you think?”

Carlisle rubbed his long, stubbled jaw thoughtfully. His time with Kate had been disturbing to say the least and he still had been unable to complete a thorough examination. She was, for the most, ranting, agitated and fearful – and yet at the same time she was capable of moments of complete lucidity where it seemed like a veil had been lifted and she was able to speak freely of her affliction.

Of course particularly gifted witches were often prone to a form of magical backlash that resulted in a heightened psychic state bordering on insanity but there seemed to be something much more deeply disturbing that appeared to be affecting the poor woman.

“I did a preliminary examination,” Carlisle stated finally, deciding to keep his misgivings to himself for the time being, “so far as Kate would allow me to at least. She seemed very agitated about being touched.” He frowned in concern, drawing Jack away from the bedroom door. “I wasn’t able to get a proper look but… I noticed some…” Carlisle paused, curling his lower lip as he deliberated on what word to use, “scars.”

Jack looked worried and he glanced back at the door to the bedroom before returning his focus on the doctor. “Scars?”

Carlisle nodded in confirmation, his face set into a mask of concern. “On her hands and wrists… she tried to hide them from me but I saw them clearly enough. There were definite hesitation marks that would suggest that they were self-inflicted.”

Jack drew in a sharp breath and he held his head against his hand as he felt his chest tighten in alarm. “Did you…” he began almost breathless with worry, “Did you talk to her, did you ask her what had happened?”

“I tried. She wasn’t very forthcoming, in fact she was quite hysterical. I don’t know what to say, Jack. Apart from those marks and the bruises on her back and shoulders, well as far as I was able to ascertain there’s nothing physically wrong with her. She’s perhaps a little underweight and her complexion is paler than I would like but nothing to be worried about.”

“Nothing to be worried about!?” cried Jack in disbelief, “My daughter has tried to kill herself and you’re telling me there’s nothing wrong with her when you only have to look at her to see that something’s very, VERY wrong!”

“Yes… well,” huffed the elderly man in agreement, “She is severely fatigued which would probably explain her hypertension and over sensitivity to stimuli. I gave her a shot of phenothiazine that should allow her to relax and I’ll write you out a prescription for diazepam, which should help to alleviate her mood swings.”

Jack followed Carlisle as he started down the stairs to the living room. “You’re saying her behaviour, the, the things that she’s saying, the voices in her head, the visions… you’re saying all that is just because she’s tired and a bit depressed?!”

The doctor paused at the bottom of the stairs and scratched his chin again. “I was going to wait until I’d been able to consult with one of my colleagues but…” Carlisle sighed reluctantly, “it is my opinion that your daughter has suffered some kind of psychological trauma. Now I don’t know what that is and Kate seems more than reluctant to talk about it.”

The man shook his head in dismay, “It could be that she’s been the victim of abuse or a particularly violent act or some other kind of traumatic event, but I believe it was this initial trigger that spurred Kate to attempt to take her own life.”

Jack’s usual expressionless face crumpled up in despair as he tried to process what Carlisle was telling him. “I can’t stand this…” he forced out, almost choking for breath he was so worked up. “She’s my daughter, she’s all I have… I just can’t believe that she would do something like this, that she would try to hurt herself-”

Jack pressed his fist against his mouth in an attempt to hold back a complete emotional outpouring. Right now that wouldn’t help him get to the bottom of what had happened to Kate.

“I don’t know what to say Jack,” intoned Carlisle kindly, “Until we find out what happened to her there is little that I can do apart from alleviating her symptoms. I am also concerned with the visions you mentioned and the voices. The latter could point to a schizophrenic episode of some sort, but of course I can’t rule out the fact that this isn’t just an offshoot of her inherent supernatural abilities. You told me yourself that her ‘powers’ range closely to those of the Halfr’aner-alf, and you know as well as I do that such things are not entirely abnormal for someone who shares their DNA.”

“Maybe not, but they ARE abnormal for her.” Jack looked distraught, “Carlisle, please, I know you probably just think I’m being overprotective here, but she’s my little girl and this… this just isn’t like her. She has been through a lot recently, her baby died barely two months ago and she was going through some marital problems as a result…” Jack sighed, frustrated at his inability to do anything to help. “I get the feeling that something else has happened to make her like this, do you think there’s anyway that someone could have done something to her?”

Carlisle rested a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder, his eyes sympathetic and kind. “I think it’s unlikely that this is an outside influence from what I’ve seen. Kate is… confused and highly distressed to the point where she probably isn’t even aware of half the things she is saying.”

Jack shook his head again, “The things she was saying earlier… she sounded… …crazy.”

Carlisle nodded slowly, “Kate is clearly a very sensitive individual. I have seen witches with less power than her succumb to a mania comparable to insanity, but that doesn’t make her crazy. Like I said, it is my opinion that Kate has suffered a terrible traumatic event; couple that with her recent losses and… Is it any wonder that she has responded in such a manner?”

The man fixed his eyes on his weary friend, forcing him to understand the veracity of his words. “This is just Kate’s way of looking after herself. Whatever has happened to her was obviously something that she felt she couldn’t deal with. Something that disturbed her enough to make her want to retreat into a place in which she feels safe. That’s a completely natural reaction Jack, it’s what is keeping her going, stopping her from just shutting down completely.”

“Now I can keep her medicated and talk to a few trauma counsellors I know but until Kate starts talking about what has happened to her there’s no way that we can force her back into the real world. In fact I believe that she will only get worse as she continues to remove herself from reality and depend more and more upon the strategies and systems that she’s creating in her own mind in order to cope with this trauma.”

Carlisle frowned suddenly, checking in his bag and jotting down a few notes. “Still…” he added thoughtfully, “I’d like to take a few blood samples for testing; there’s been a strange sort of virus circulating among the more occult forces in Los Angeles at the moment and I’d just like to check that it hasn’t affected Kate in any way. I’ve had several patients suffering from flu like symptoms which seem to lead to something much more sinister, unusual behaviour verging on the reckless and amoral. I’ve been running tests on several individuals in my care at the moment but so far I’ve been unable to isolate the viral agents and apart from the uncharacteristic behaviour and a certain pungency which seems to fade after a requisite infectious period I’ve still to ascertain a determinate set of symptoms.”

Jack sighed at the doctor’s mumbled ramblings, “That’s fine, do all the tests you have to.”

“In the meantime,” continued Carlisle with barely a pause for breath, “I suggest that you try to find out what’s been going on here over the past few weeks. You’re a telepath after all, a simple reading shouldn’t be too difficult for a man of your talents.”

Jack shook his head, “I tried earlier, she asked me not to.”

“Hang what she wants Jack!” cried the doctor incredulously, “We need answers! The sooner we know what we’re dealing with the sooner we can start to treat her.”

“Believe me,” replied Jack curtly as a plan suddenly began to form in his head, “getting the answers is exactly what I intend to do. But I won’t read her against her will, it’ll only make her more distressed and that’s not what’s best for her right now.”

“Well, you must do what you think is best of course,” Carlisle mumbled under his breath, heading towards the door.

“Wait,” called out Jack as he noticed the man about to leave, “Can you do me a favour? Stay here with her while I go out? I won’t be too long… but there’s something important that I have to do.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Kaarin's picture

15 April 2007
Nikolai’s Apartment
Morning

Tolstoy sat before his bowl silently chewing his food, tossing the occasional glance towards Nikolai as he stood drinking. He'd woken up early that morning, having been unable to sleep. It seemed like so long, with the things that were going on. But today would be special, or at least this afternoon would be. And in the evening, he planned on celebrating with Alicia.

Today was the day that Nikolai Makarov would become a made man.

After nearly a month, it was an amazing thing. He would be a full member of the family. He could do damn near anything he wanted, legitimately if not necessarily legally. It also brought fear and respect on the streets. Nobody could touch him, not unless they were also made and had a good reason.

Nikolai had his best suit laid out on the bed, an Armani. He had to be careful about the amount of money he spent, but one thing, perhaps two a month, he could afford. All of his neighbours knew he had money squirreled away in some account somewhere; they just figured he really didn’t feel much need to spend it.

When he moved to pick up the tie from the bed, all but the top button of his suit done, he barely even jumped at the sight of his apparent guide standing there. “I was wondering when you would actually show up again,” Nikolai said, walking over to the mirror so that he could begin to adjust it.

“It’s only been a week,” Garak protested, moving to stand behind him. On occasion, usually when he made a big step, the tailor had been right there either before or after, always pushing him to ask if he really wanted to do this. “You know, I can scarcely believe that you’re the same person who I started this with several months ago.”

Nikolai finally got the tie to what he thought was the proper length, started to tie it, then realised that he had got the proportions wrong. That always seemed to happen to him for some reason. “People change.”

“That they do, but so few manage to move between extremes as readily as you do. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone go to being a cold-blooded killer from respecting life so quickly.”

He turned to face Garak, a look of surprise on his face. “You’re the one who thought I was ignoring my human half.”

Garak nodded at that, and it was true. “Yes, but are you sure that you are not ignoring your Xangyarj half? You killed a man last week, Kolya.”

“That’s the way the underworld works!” It was a weak protest, and both of them knew it. A bit of gnawing regret had stayed at the back of Nikolai’s mind through the whole thing, but he’d been able to ignore it. “Besides, if I hadn’t done it, someone else would have.”

Nikolai couldn’t be quite sure if it was sarcasm, outright hostility, or both in Garak’s voice when the spirit guide spoke next. “Oh, yes, of course, because after all he owed Jimmy the Hand money and was chronically late with his payments. Does that let you sleep at night?”

He snorted, finishing with the tie finally, and going to put on the suit coat. “Garak, are you going to make a point?” Nikolai didn’t try to keep the hostility out of his voice. He’d fought demons a few times with Simryn but Garak didn’t seem fit to question him about that.

“Look at yourself, Kolya. You’re about to become a full member of the family, but with things like last week – where’s the good in what you’re doing?”

“It’s in what I do afterwards, Garak.”

“You mean funnelling money to overseas bank accounts to avoid having to pay taxes on blood money?”

Nikolai had never felt so tempted to turn around and try to slap the tailor, but knew better than to try. He wasn’t real, he didn’t really exist – he was just a mental representation of something about himself. Slapping him wouldn’t and couldn’t accomplish anything. “Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“Perhaps, but it’s also true. Come now, Kolya, this isn’t the kind of person you are. Not anymore.”

“Funny, I thought I was about to be made.”

“And if you were yourself, would you still want to be made?” Garak asked slyly. “What has happened to you? You are doing more than just acknowledging the parts of you that you have been denying. What is wrong with you, Kolya?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me!” he snapped back, feeling more than a little frustrated at his guide.

“Are you so sure about that?”

Nikolai stopped in surprise, doubting himself for a moment. Was there something wrong with him? “What do you know, Garak?”

“Only what you know. Well… perhaps a little more.”

Nikolai shook his head. Garak always wanted to be the man of mystery. “And why don’t you just tell me, then?”

“Because you obviously aren’t ready fully to admit it even to yourself that something’s wrong. Search yourself, friend Kolya. Then you’ll see what I mean.”

Nikolai blinked, and suddenly Garak was gone. He really hated it when the conversation ended so abruptly, but now he wanted to think. Was something truly wrong with him? Perhaps. For the moment, however, he would not keep the Gromyoko family waiting. Such things would not be wise.

Jack Finds Galen

Meredith Bell's picture

Monday, 16 April 2007 – 4:35pm – Joe’s Bar

Joe’s was busy as usual.

Galen sat at the bar and nursed his first drink of the evening while some rowdy guys from the 33rd Precinct downed pitchers of beer and crowded around the huge widescreen TV that made Joe’s such a popular hangout with the LAPD. Galen didn’t even know what sport they were watching but all the cheering and general merriment made it clear that at least their team was winning at any rate.

He shook his head in amusement as another roar blasted from the group of men and women, before turning his attention back to his drink. He’d finished work over an hour ago and though he had determined to go see his wife he needed a shot of Dutch courage before he made his move.

“Detective Eldridge, you look like hell pal, need a refill?”

Galen looked up at the bartender Ronnie, waving his hand over the top of his glass. “Better not, I should be heading home soon.”

Ronnie smiled as he cleaned a couple of glasses, stacking them below the bar. “You got something special planned with that wife of yours? What’s her name? Kate?” Ronnie grinned, a row of sparkling white teeth splitting his face in two. “She’s a pretty little thing, how the hell you scored a woman like that I’ll never know. There’s no justice in this world man!”

Galen laughed a little as Ronnie went off to serve someone else, leaving him alone to his thoughts. Anderson was right of course; the least he could do after everything was see how Kate was. And if he was honest with himself he really did WANT to see her; despite everything that had happened and his reasons for moving out he was missing her terribly. For the past few weeks all he’d done was obsess and worry about what she might be feeling, if she was coping, if she hated him after finding out about his affair with Daye. Actually, that last one wasn’t something he was desperate to find out already knowing the answer.

Jack entered the crowded sports bar and glanced around. He knew it was a popular hangout with the officers at Galen’s precinct and though he knew it was a long shot it was the only lead he had. He’d already called by at the station, so he knew his son-in-law was back on active duty. There were some rumours about him staying at a motel downtown but anything else was little more than supposition and speculation.

Making his way through the rowdy crowds, Jack spotted Galen sitting by himself at the bar and pushed his way to his side, shuffling himself onto the stool next to him. He signalled to the barman and sighed as a bottle of beer was placed down in front of him. Jack took a swig and turned to Galen who hadn’t so much as glanced in his direction since he had sat down.

“Crowded huh?”

Galen looked up, completely and utterly surprised beyond belief as he recognised the familiar tone of his father-in-law. “Jack?” he spluttered in shock, “When did you get back in town?”

“Just this afternoon, Galen. I…”

“I suppose Kate has filled you in on everything?” said Galen with a sigh. “That’s why you’re here right? To let me know what a mess I’ve made of things?” Galen sipped on his drink some more, “Well I can tell you right now you’d be wasting your breath. I already know I’ve been an idiot, that I’ve screwed things up really badly, but believe it or not I was actually going to see her today, maybe try and sort things out.”

Jack drew in a sharp breath and then paused, looking at Galen warily. “I have no idea what’s been going on here Galen. I got home this afternoon to find the house a complete wreck and Kate…” He shook his head in dismay.

Galen frowned at the worried look on Jack’s face. “What?” he asked in confusion, his frown growing even deeper, “What about Kate? Sh, she’s okay isn’t she?”

Jack shook his head, “No Galen, I don’t think she is. In fact I think she’s a long way from okay right now. A friend of mine is sitting with her at the moment, a doctor, but I think you should come home right away. I need to know what’s been going on, and Kate…” Jack looked away as he remembered everything that Carlisle had told him including the suspicious marks on her wrists. He couldn’t go into that here, he decided automatically as he glanced around the noisy bar. It was neither the time or the place but still, Galen would have to be told before he saw her, before he found out for himself.

“Kate needs you,” he finished finally, realising that his words would only serve to delay Galen’s curiosity and concern and not satisfy them. “You need to come home with me now, we can talk on the way.”

Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007

Heather's picture

Tuesday, 17th April 2007 - 4:23pm
1318 Poplar Avenue

In room 202, the Foundation’s office in Poplar Avenue, a stack of unopened mail lay on one side of the desk, while on the other was a growing pile of letters. Tash ripped open the next envelope, which was from the Los Angeles County Hospital. She almost didn’t bother, expecting merely the usual receipt for the month’s cheque. But instead there was a letter with her April cheque attached to the front. Frowning, she began to read the letter.

‘Dear Sir or Madam,

Please find enclosed your-’

CRASH

Dropping the letter, Tash leapt to her feet instantly, all senses on the alert. That was close. Too close. Right next door, in fact – Alice’s apartment. But Tash hadn’t seen Alice for weeks. She grabbed the master keys from the desk and, drawing her gun, she stalked into the hallway and surveyed the closed door of Alice’s flat. No noise emanated from within now, but she could feel the anger boiling out from within. Working quickly and silently, she gently tested the doorknob. Finding it unlocked she flung it open and burst into the room, her gun searching for targets.

“Oh,” she said, lowering her arm. “It’s you.”

Alice sat on the sofa, staring stony-faced at a metal briefcase that lay on the floor. It rested upon and was surrounded by shards of glass, the empty frame of the ex-coffee table rising majestically above the devastation. In the corner of the room were a suitcase and an overnight bag, still bulging with their un-emptied contents.

“So… good trip?”

Alice sat there a moment, a look of pure anguish on her face. “Oh. Hi, Tash.” Alice’s face softened to her friend that she hadn’t seen for weeks now. “How goes it, sweetie?” She smiled as she tried to get her mind off the fact that she had just destroyed her coffee table.

Tash wasn’t sure how to answer that. Well, all my friends hate me and the White Hats have been dissolved didn’t seem like the best way to break the news to Alice. So she settled for shrugging her shoulders.

“Times have been better, but then again it’s not been all bad either.” She nodded to the wreckage, “Did they run out of orange juice on the plane again?”

Alice grinned, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around for the White Hat meetings and stuff, but I had to transfer some money and liquidate some assets. And you know how lawyers can get if you’re not right there watching them.” Alice looked at the security briefcase on her floor. “I forgot how heavy gold can be,” she giggled.

Tash smiled in return, but it was an effort to form it. She didn’t know where to begin to tell Alice about the White Hats, and after a moment’s awkward silence she decided to come at it obliquely.

She leaned against the door, not wanting to get too comfortable, and cleared her throat. “I guess I should catch you up on what’s been happening then. Um. Well, to start with some of the people around here are behaving very oddly. Daye and Kate especially. They’re not themselves at all. And Cole – remember that skinny kid? – he’s gone off the deep end too. It’s caused a couple of problems with the group, really. But we’re working to find out what the deal is.”

She shifted slightly and continued, “By ‘we’ I don’t really mean the White Hats as such. Mostly I’m working with a group of Watchers who are in town. They’re looking into this whole change of behaviour thing.” To herself, Tash had to admit Delancre’s ‘team’ hadn’t found much of use yet. Mostly they’d eliminated a couple of possible causes, but hadn’t come up with any solid theories. Still, she pushed aside her worries and smiled confidently at Alice.

“Watchers, hmm? Well I don’t really know most of the other White Hats enough to tell how they’re acting.” Alice motioned Tash to come in and join her. “So you’re working for the Watchers now. Do tell.”

Unable to refuse Alice’s express invitation without seeming suspicious Tash moved into the room, carefully avoiding the shattered glass, and perched on a chair. She smiled broadly at her friend, hoping that – like Reah – Alice would see this as an opportunity.

“Yeah, I know you’ve done for a few Watchers in your time,” Tash began, “but that was a long time ago. I’m sure nobody in the organisation now would recognise you. And I’m not so much working for them as working with them. I’m still my own woman. But they do have great training facilities, and hunting with the Slayer has meant we’ve cleaned out more than a few vampire nests.”

*Great training facilities, and hunting with the Slayer?* Alice winked at Tash, “You’re better than any Slayer I’ve ever met.” Alice picked up the briefcase and placed it on the table’s frame. “Want to see something?”

Tash nodded. “Sure... though I do know what gold looks like already,” she said cheekily.

Alice’s hand passed over the top of the case and Tash could see the faint outline of a glyph or rune begin to glow. “I’m sure you have, hon. But this is kind of different than gold bars.”

As the glyph’s light faded once more, the case’s locks opened and Alice lifted its top. She turned the open case to Tash, revealing to her a large golden disk that resembled a large coin ten inches across. There were engravings that appeared to be Mayan in nature but Tash could easily make out a rabbit-like woman on it.

Alice smiled. “It’s good to be the queen.”

Tash whistled appreciatively. “Ok, so I take it you spent a bit of time in Mexico a few hundred years ago, huh?”

“Yes. In the 12th century I was playing goddess for a bit. This disk is the only record that I have been able to find of my reign.” Alice sat back in her seat. “So. Tell me about your new Watcher friends.”

“There’s not that much to tell,” Tash shrugged.

And truth be told, it was more or less the case. She’d been trying to dig beneath the surface to find out if Delancre was up to anything, but so far everything looked to be above board. Maybe he really had been telling her the truth all along. He’d told her about how he only recruited demons who came to him looking to fight the good fight, and how those that weren’t up to fighting in his army were more than happy to function as house guards and servants. She hadn’t believed that one for a second, until she questioned all the demon servitors and they told her how much they loved working for Delancre and how well he treated them.

The only one that really concerned her was Ana’s second. The demon they called NightWalker had obviously been through hell – perhaps literally – and the only sense Tash got from him was one of utter desolation. She was sure if it weren’t for his service to Ana and Delancre giving him a purpose in life, that the poor creature would have committed suicide by now. When she’d asked about him, Ambrose had told her that NightWalker had suffered a terrible emotional trauma and that he had his best people working on helping to cure him. But of course, as with Daye’s affliction, such research was painstakingly slow.

But Tash didn’t want to explain any of that, nor her true purpose in spending so much time at the mansion. Not right now. “Basically,” she continued, “I spend a bit of time there training with their fighters – most of which are demons or half-demons – and patrolling with them and the Slayer. We’ve accounted for plenty of vampires recently, which to my mind is a good thing.”

Alice looked stunned. “Demons and half demons? In the Watchers? Are you sure they are The Watchers? The same loveable English librarians we know and love…”

Smiling, Tash nodded. “Yes, they are. Well, not exactly the same. They have a new leader who’s dragged them kicking and screaming from the Dark Ages. Delancre has revitalised the Watchers, brought them to a point where they no longer just watch, but actually do. And I’ve heard they used to be of the ‘the only demon is a dead demon’ school of thinking, but that’s all different now. Delancre understands that not all demons are evil soul-sucking monsters and if anyone, demon or human, is willing to fight against the bad guys then he’s willing to work with them.”

Alice’s eyes widened. “Ambrose Delancre? He’s head of the Watchers? Well, that does explain him trying to kidnap me a few years ago.” Alice’s expression turned to a quick smile. “All he had to do was ask. You mind if I go with you the next time you go to train? I’d like to see the facilities and maybe meet the Slayer or even see Mr Delancre.”

“Kidnap? Are you sure you have the right person? Or maybe you misunderstood. I know he has people out looking for strong recruits – it’s possible one of them got a little overzealous, perhaps.” Tash shook her head. “He comes across a little intense sometimes, but every time I’ve ever been near him I’ve sensed nothing but good intentions. I’m sure if you met him…”

Alice’s question finally registered with Tash and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least Alice wasn’t going to go all weird on her, warning her about how ‘evil’ the Watchers were, when all along they’d been allied with them anyway through Daye and Alicia. Pushing her other friends’ hypocrisies from her mind she smiled at Alice.

“Maybe it would be a good idea for you to come meet him,” she said, “and he can clear up that misunderstanding. And you’ll be impressed with his hunters, I’m sure. They’re well-organised, disciplined… And they’re great at killing vampires. I don’t see you having any trouble joining up, if you want.”

Alice grinned. “Sounds like a plan.”

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