*** March 1, 2007, around 2 am ***
*** Isla Nublada ***
Daye stood on the deck and gazed down at the dark blue waters below. She listened to the hushed conversation behind her between Inés and her boyfriend, Connor. Further back, near the rear of the boat, the mysterious man who’d contacted them and started them on this road stood, staring into the water as well. Daye wondered again just who exactly Ellis Longwood was, and why he had gotten involved in this. Daye thought about how hectic the last week had been after Inés contacted Alessa’s mind, and Ellis gave them the final link to the Council. That was what had brought them here in the first place, and with any luck this would be the last leg of their long journey.
Daye scanned the island that they were approaching, the boat enshrouded in mists. She shivered, quickly zipping up the light jacket she was wearing. It was cold and wet here on the water, and the island didn’t appear to be any more inviting.
“Alessa, if you’re out there,” Daye whispered into the wind, “just hold on. We’re coming for you.”
Inés was listening distractedly to Connor beside her; she wasn’t really paying attention to him. Her thoughts were recounting all that had happened in the last two days. From the moment Daye, Ellis and her had put two and two together and discovered where Alessa had been taken, everything had happened in a rush. Ellis had almost taken over the whole operation, hiring a plane and then this boat to take them to the island where she was sure Alessa was being held captive. He knew people in Colombia, he had said, and right now he was proving he did.
She leaned on Connor and wondered again at his reasons for helping too, but she was really grateful to him for offering his help as soon as he knew of Alessa’s kidnapping. His temper had clashed several times with Alessa’s friend, Ellis, but he was holding his own, and risking much. A jungle was no place for a vampire if day caught them ashore.
The sight in front of her was strangely familiar, although it felt as if she were seeing it from above, probably from a plane. She knew this image wasn’t hers, it was Alessa’s and it was so full of dread that Inés gritted her teeth. Since the moment she had first got in touch with her cousin the images she received kept becoming more blurry and distressful, a jungle and fear was all she could feel at the moment. The quality of her thoughts was deteriorating in a worrisome pace.
She shivered, not only from the cold, and she was grateful to feel Connor’s strong arm go around her shoulders. She gave another look at the misty island that was slowly getting nearer and nearer. She sighed; she just hoped they got to Alessa in time.
Ellis heard the demoness sigh and frowned. He was worried too. His associates in Colombia had sounded terribly scared at the sole mention of Isla Nublada. That was exactly the kind of stuff that enraged him, peaceful demons being terrified by humans. For some time he had received vague reports of experimentation linked to the Council; many demons had apparently been taken to a research facility of some kind in South America not to be seen again. But he hadn’t been able to discover where the facility was situated nor exactly what kind of ‘things’ were done in it.
However it wasn’t until he had talked to Danny and confirmed that Alessa had been taken by the Council and her cousin had called telling him that she knew Alessa was in Colombia, that he had made the link between Alessa and the research facility. His hand closed in a tight fist at the thought of her in that island.
Daye turned towards the others as the boat bumped against the shore. A small stretch of beach extended out from the edge of the jungle, and that was where their guide had brought them. From what Ellis had said, the man was very nervous about coming to Isla Nublada, but he couldn't resist the ridiculous amount of money Daye had offered.
Whatever had happened to Alessa, she knew that once again the Council was somehow involved and even though it didn't make any logical sense, she felt responsible. She just hoped that Alessa was going to be all right, and that whatever research was going on here was not as horrible as she was beginning to suspect.
“Well, we had better start looking," Daye said to Inés. "If we can find her before the sun comes up, that would probably be for the best. We don't know what kind of monitoring they have set up here. I'd rather get Alessa and just get out.”
“Yes, we'd better,” said Ellis and turned to look at Connor.
The vampire raised an eyebrow but understood the look quite well. This man knew about his nature, and for some reason hadn’t reacted to it. He turned to help Inés out of the boat, but smiled when he saw her jump lithely from the deck. Inés looked at home in this tropical setting.
The demoness walked a few steps towards the jungle and stood motionless for a moment, as if listening, but the rest knew she was trying to catch any hint of Alessa’s scent. She turned to them after a couple of minutes.
“I can't smell her, but Ellis said Alessa would be near a brook or stream, and I can smell water. Let’s follow that trail,” she said and started to walk towards the jungle line, the rest following right behind her.
Ellis nodded. He had received that inside information the night they were leaving for Colombia. He just hoped Alessa hadn’t done something stupid just when they were coming to get her. He turned to signal the guide to wait for them with the boat ready and then walked behind them.
James followed soon after Inés. He was carrying enough ammo to kill a hundred Watchers. He was angered because of what happened to Alessa and besides, he was warming towards Inés and he wanted to help her. It gave him a reason to function. As they got to the jungle, James hung his rifle from his side and took out a big machete to open a way through the thick bush, behind Inés. Somehow the demoness seemed to glide along the greenery, and did not need a path.
"Jungle imp," he said to himself but caught her smiling at him over her shoulder.
"You can’t imagine how much," she said, laughing, and changed before his eyes. The hairy, brown creature was much more secure and able in the tropical jungle.
Daye followed Inés and the others, feeling more than a little apprehensive. This island was shrouded in more than just natural mists. She could feel the prickle of strong magic on her skin, and she detected great suffering. Daye was not as sensitive as Kate, so she knew whatever was happening here was very, very bad. She shivered as they entered the dark, forbidding jungle, concentrating. She might need her magic at a moment's notice, and she wanted to make sure she wasn't slow on the uptake.
Daye walked with Ellis, her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. She desperately wanted to cast a spell to create some light, but knew that would be foolish. Instead, she stayed close to Ellis.
"Sorry if I seem a bit forward," Daye whispered, huddling near him, "but I'm a bit... well, to quote the Americans, freaked out. This place is really creepy."
Ellis turned his eyes from the demoness figure, and smiled at the Watcher.
“No problem,” he said, adjusting his pace to hers. “I agree with you. There’s something evil in this island, even I can feel it.” He looked around, he wasn’t carrying a rifle like Connor, but his gun was secure under his arm, unlocked and ready. “And we should be prepared…” he stopped at Daye’s stare, “for anything that may happen.”
Daye understood. She didn’t say anything more until they came to the river. Inés stopped there and bent low to the ground, apparently trying to scent out Alessa.
The Verbati squatted near a tree with large plank buttress roots. The mattress of dead leaves, insects and dust, so natural to all jungles, was unnaturally matted and trampled, as if somebody or something had slept there and she could smell Alessa’s scent. It was faint, very faint, but it was hers. Inés’ heart skipped a beat; finally, proof of Alessa being in the damn island.
Then she frowned. She sensed another smell as well, some kind of animal, probably a big mammal, mingled with Alessa’s scent. She stood up and moved towards the source of the smell, up in the trees. With a mighty jump she reached the lower branches of the giant tree, clawing her way securely up she got to the core of the tree. There the smell of Alessa was stronger, but so was the smell of the animal. She looked around trying to focus on the smells, her huge paws touching and feeling the tree’s branches, finally finding what she was looking for. In her hand was a tuft of hair, the cinnamon color of Alessa’s Verbati fur.
Inés jumped down then, resuming her human form before touching the ground with the grace of a big cat.
“She was here,” she said. “But so was a big mammal, probably some kind of cat. Follow me,” she said and started to move again.
As she walked she tried to reconstruct Alessa’s steps. Suddenly they walked into a small clearing among the trees. Inés walked surely following her cousin’s scent. A few feet away she found the spotted carcass of a jaguar; she squatted again next to it and touched it with a stick. It wasn’t stiff yet.
She looked up to the others and smiled broadly. “This explains the fight traces I found. She killed it.” Then she looked at the dead cat again. “Bien hecho, chica.”
“And it sm- looks fresh too,” added James, cursing from almost giving himself away; although the man already knew he was a vampire he didn’t want to alert the Watcher about it. “She can't be too far. Let’s go on.”
He watched their surroundings carefully; the full moonlight giving enough light to see around, but not enough to be too clear. The clearing finished a hundred feet away and the thick bush started again. Strange sounds and odors were coming from it.
James remembered his times in the Royal Army. He had been in jungles before, as a soldier, Africa, India… you name it, every major British Colony, and he could move in a jungle too. He looked at the back of Inés, already starting to cross the empty spot, and smiled… Well, not as well as she did, but he could manage himself quite expertly. He gripped the machete again and prepared to continue cutting their path into it.
Inés hurried her step, she felt the scent get stronger and stronger, and they were close. She was nearly running, gliding and moving with expertise through the undergrowth of the jungle. She was talking as she moved.
“She’s hurt, the cat… the cat hurt her. I can smell her blood; it’s a richer trail, her blood.”
Ellis gritted his teeth as he started to follow the pair in front of them, taking Daye’s elbow when the woman staggered with a raised root. More and more worried, as he heard Inés talking absently to herself. He couldn’t imagine the ordeal Alessa had had to go through in this forlorn island, hurt and alone, not knowing if she would ever make it. Wondering if… Chance… would get to her. He cursed, such timing!
They entered the jungle and were enveloped by its green darkness again. The humans could barely see the path Connor was making, but the swoosh of his machete cutting left and right was clear enough to follow.
“Wow!” came Inés’ startled cry from the front and he ran to join the two, almost collapsing into the vampire who extended an arm backwards to stop them. He steadied himself and looked down.
They were standing on a ledge, the trees growing just to the border, its roots protruding from it like dark hands off a tomb. There was a long drop down to yet another ledge and then, far below to a stream that glittered silver in the moonlight. Inés was looking down, her face the picture of dismay.
“She’s down there,” she whispered. “She must have fallen.”
James’ arms enveloped her. “Don’t lose hope, Alessa is a tough woman.” He turned to Daye and Ellis. “Care to do a little alpinism?”
“You go on, we’ll follow. This can't be worse than climbing Mount Blanc,” answered Ellis, eyeing the pronounced drop.
James smirked and started to follow Inés who had already started to half slide, half jump down the slope, using rocks and roots as help. When they finally got to the bottom, Inés looked around again and a small cry she run towards a dark figure crumpled on the ground. It was Alessa.
The demoness was in her natural form, and looked battered, but they couldn’t see how much until they got to her. Her cinnamon fur was tangled and dirty, dried blood matted the fur of her left leg and Daye saw with horror that it was terribly jagged, as if she had been bitten by a huge sharp-toothed mouth. She also bore several cuts and bites, probably the result of her fight with the big cat.
“Oh, Alessa, ¿qué te pasó prima? What happened to you?” whispered Inés, kneeling beside her and taking the demoness’ head gently in her hands. Inés felt her eyes fill with tears watching the sorrowful state of her cousin. She looked up to see Daye in a state of distress similar to her own. The Watcher was on her knees too, and was moving her hands over Alessa’s body, a look of concentration in her face.
“She’s alive,” she finally said, “Barely. I can help her, heal her, but not here. I don’t dare to do magic here.” Daye looked around, as if expecting fiends to materialize around them any minute. She was sure there were magical wards on the island; any magic she could perform would be surely spotted.
“Let’s go. The sooner we get her to the boat the sooner you can start the mending magic,” said Ellis, then he looked down at Alessa again, doubt in his eyes. The demoness looked too heavy to carry easily, they should try to make some kind of… he was surprised when Inés, changing again into her Verbati form, lifted the big creature with ease. He grinned. *Never underestimate a good demon.*
The party slowly climbed up the ledge again, but once they did the rest of the way was uneventful and easier than before. Following Inés’ sense of direction they moved steadily towards the shore where the boat was waiting for them. A couple of hours later they were sailing off the shore and leaving Isla Nublada behind; starkly delineated against the full-moon sky.
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Galen and Jack Recap
Monday, 16 April 2007 – 5:17pm – Glendale Avenue, Eastbound
Galen sat in silence, gazing out the car window as Jack drove at a moderate speed. It was a sunny afternoon and the streets of Los Angeles were particularly crowded. Soon they slowed to a halt on Glendale Avenue as they joined one of the inevitable queues of traffic at that time of day.
“Damn gridlock,” mumbled Jack in irritation as he stared at the stationary vehicle in front of him. He glanced sideways at his quiet son-in-law. They hadn’t spoken a word since heading off from Joe’s, in fact Galen had barely removed his eyes from the passing scenery once during the entire journey.
Jack swivelled in his seat to face him, keeping one arm draped on the steering wheel. “Well I guess we’re going to be here for a while, we might have that chat now.”
Galen continued to stare out of the window morosely. He’d had the glass rolled down some but now with the stagnation of traffic and the build up of exhaust fumes he rolled it back up, creating a vacuum of silence inside the car.
“I do love her, you know?” he said after a while, his eyes still focused on some invisible point outside the window.
“I know you do,” said Jack sympathetically with a drawn sigh. “She’s in a bad way though. I have to admit, I don’t know what to do.” His eyes suddenly grew darker and less friendly, “I left her in your care, I expected you to look after her. Why the hell did you move out?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, no Galen, you’re mistaken. I DO want to know,” insisted Jack, suddenly jerking the car forwards as the line of traffic moved a few feet. “And you’re going to tell me.”
“I told Kate it was her fault that Emma died," Galen confessed suddenly, without even thinking about what Jack’s reaction might be, “that she should have taken better care of her, that she let her down.” Galen heaved a sigh of relief as he rested his head against the window. It felt good to finally get that out.
Jack’s steely gaze narrowed critically and he resisted the urge to drag Galen out of the car and beat some sense into him. “How could you even think something like that?” he asked incredulously. “You know Kate better than to believe her capable of such a thing!”
“I know…” sighed Galen wearily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He finally turned to face Jack, his eyes tired and worn. “I don’t know why I felt that way, I guess I just wanted someone to blame, to lash out. Kate was… an easy target. What is it they say? You always hurt the one you love?”
“That’s no excuse Galen… Kate must have been devastated.”
“She was,” sighed Galen again tiredly. “She ran out, I’ll never forget the look in her eyes that evening. She was just waiting for me to take it back and I didn’t, I let her leave thinking that I hated her, that I despised her.” He shook his head again in dismay.
Suddenly a car horn beeped loudly and Jack turned away, driving the car forward a few yards to keep up with the flow.
“I just wanted to hurt her, it seems so stupid now but I was jealous. I thought she was getting on with things, getting on with life. I wanted to punish her for it, because I was falling apart and I couldn’t tell anyone.”
Jack looked at his son-in-law with weary, aged eyes, “You could have told me, you could have told Kate. I know she wanted to reach out to you, I know she wanted to help you, but you were never around.”
“I know,” admitted Galen, running a hand over the rich, leather upholstery, his fingers tracing the line of walnut trim near the window. “I really hated myself for saying those things to her…” he said absently, “I wanted to start again, make a fresh go of things but-”
Jack frowned, “But?”
Galen looked up at Jack in concern, he didn’t want to tell him such things about his daughter, put those kinds of images in his mind and yet… the things that had followed were a result of what she had done that night.
“Kate… slept with another man.” At the doubtful look in Jack’s eyes Galen continued. “It’s true, I heard her talking to Tash about it, deciding on how she was going to tell me. Apparently, she got drunk and ended up in bed with this…” Galen shook his head, he didn’t want to go into all this again, it just made him sick to even think about it.
“She begged me to forgive her,” Galen added remorsefully, staring back into that distant point again, “and I mean really begged, pleaded… It was awful, seeing her like that. She was angry too, she ended up throwing me out.”
Jack looked away and rolled his eyes. This was turning out to be more complex than the plot of a Wachowski Brothers movie. Suddenly something that Kate had said popped into his mind and he returned his steely gaze to Galen. “You called her a whore, didn't you?”
Galen looked ashamed. He didn't want to be reminded of the things he'd called her, the things he'd said. Hearing Tash reiterate them in her bitter tirade had been bad enough without going into it all again. Instead he just nodded, not really sure why Jack had brought it up.
“It gets worse,” Galen continued, “Following all that… I slept with Daye.”
Jack shot another glance at Galen, his forehead furrowing again before he returned his eyes to the road as the traffic picked up speed again. They drove in silence for another twenty minutes. “I’m guessing Kate found out,” he ventured soberly, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Actually… I moved out the next morning. I… I couldn’t tell her. I knew it would destroy her and she’d been through so much already. It was a mistake, the Daye thing.”
“I should hope it was.”
Galen nodded in agreement, “Kate was really happy to see me that morning, she didn’t even know, didn’t have a clue about what I’d done. She wanted me to stay, she begged me again, she cried, told me she loved me… what was I supposed to do? I just felt sick, I realised that I didn’t want to lose her, but I didn’t want the cycle of hate to continue. I mean, what next? How many ways could we find to keep hurting one another?”
“It’s been tough, on the both of you,” surmised Jack as they pulled out of the main lane of traffic onto the smaller roads towards home. They continued to travel in relative silence until the house loomed into view.
“I don’t know what to say Jack,” Galen said, breaking the silence as they pulled up outside the house, though neither of them made a move to get out of the car just yet. “Everything is such a mess. I didn’t want things to end up this way but, well I couldn’t think of what else to do. We were making each other miserable. The last thing I wanted was to keep hurting her…” he sighed wearily, looking up at the house when he thought he saw the curtains upstairs move a little.
“When I hit her,” Galen fought back the urge to slam his fist against the dashboard, “it was just the last straw…”
“Wait a minute,” snapped Jack suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Galen. “You hit my daughter?”
Galen froze as he caught the iciness of Jack’s stare. “Y-yes,” he admitted hesitantly, seeing a flare of wrath in the man’s eyes. “Bu-but it was an accident, a mistake, I didn’t mean to… We were having an argument and, well she provoked me. I know that doesn’t excuse it, I know it doesn’t but that’s why I had to move out! I was just so angry at her and, and at myself I didn’t want to risk hurting her again.”
Jack sighed tiredly, “You realise that ordinarily I’d be organising an alibi right now so that when they fished your bloated corpse out of Garvey Reservoir they wouldn’t be able to trace your heinous murder back to me, right?”
“I understand completely,” answered Galen seriously, “and I promise you nothing like that will ever happen again.”
Jack paused for a moment, gauging the sincerity of his son-in-law’s assurance before nodding in approbation and opening the car door.
Galen sighed in relief as he followed suit in exiting the car. He wasn’t particularly worried by the severity of Jack’s threat despite the firmness with which it had been delivered. He knew it was just a father wanting to protect his daughter and besides, if something similar had ever happened to his little girl he’d want to make sure the jerk responsible got the message loud and clear too.
“Look… Galen,” said Jack as he stepped out of the car, holding his son-in-law back from entering the house. “I appreciate you telling me all that, I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
“Admitting to our mistakes never is,” answered Galen solemnly.
“No, it isn’t. But now I guess it’s my turn. I should probably explain what I know before we go inside.”
Galen looked immediately worried, his face draining a little of its colour. “That bad?”
Jack nodded, “That bad.” He drew in a long breath as he struggled to compose his words, noting that with each passing second the look of confusion and worry on Galen’s face continued to intensify.
“My friend, Dr Wallis, he believes that… well that Kate has been deeply traumatised by something and that in response to that she’s withdrawn into her own world to some degree. I mean she makes sense…” *on occasion* “…but she sometimes says things that DON’T make sense, a-and she’s quite agitated and nervous and, and well, not really herself. Well she IS herself it’s just that it’s like she’s not really with us if you know what I mean… and her powers, well her powers are erratic to say the least. She has these visions sometimes that are quite disturbing and, well she keeps moving things around using her telepathy…” Jack’s voice faltered as he ran out of steam; the look on Galen’s face was enough to let him know that he’d said more than enough.
Galen felt like he’d had the air knocked out of him. He’d thought on many occasions in the past two months that Kate might be close to breaking point. When she had begged him to stay – he’d seen it then briefly, a wild and almost feral look, and it was true that her moods had been precarious at best. One minute she’d be in floods of tears followed by a raging anger only minutes later. Then there was her manner towards Tash only a few weeks ago; she’d been downright hostile, not to mention irrational. And of course, what she had said to him about Daye, about their being even, not even letting him explain. It was all a long way from the warm, loving, compassionate, confident woman he knew and loved.
The two of them walked silently into the house before Galen gasped aloud, unprepared for the state that the place was in. The symbols on the walls and floors and the candles and general disorder… if that was an indication of Kate’s mental state he shuddered to think of what she must be like. Quietly they made their way upstairs.
“Just one other thing,” added Jack as they paused outside the bedroom door. “She has these… scars on her hands and wrists… Dr Wallis thinks that they might be self-inflicted-”
Galen felt like he was falling and he had to reach out and take hold of the doorframe to steady himself. “You’re saying she, she tried to-”
“We don’t know,” reiterated Jack helplessly, “she won’t say. Galen… I’m really worried about her,” Jack said seriously, looking Galen straight in the eye. “Something has happened to her, I know it has and it was bad enough for her to-”
He paused, not even wanting to think of his daughter that way; she was usually so strong! So full of life and energy! The woman he had seen huddled on the floor beneath the stairs earlier that morning, she was just a shadow of the woman he knew.
“Just get her to talk,” instructed Jack firmly, “Please, just get her to talk.”
Galen nodded and was about to enter the room when Carlisle suddenly appeared, shutting the door behind him.
“Ah, Carlisle,” said Jack, drawing the two men together, “this is my son-in-law Galen, Galen this is my old friend Dr Carlisle Wallis. So…” he began, turning to his friend, “how has she been?”
“Not too bad actually, I think the tranquillisers I gave her helped her to relax.” Carlisle smiled at Galen and shook his hand, “Though she has been a bit tearful - kept talking about her son?” The man shook his head in dismay, “I tried to get her to open up but she wouldn’t respond.”
“Well I guess I’d better see her,” said Galen resignedly, trying his best to look hopeful as he slowly entered the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
15 April 2004
Gromyoko Jewlers
2:17pm
Special Guest: Leonardo Cimino as Dmitri Edmundovich Gromyoko
“Welcome to the family, my old friend,” said the voice of a man who had considerable age and power on everyone else in the room. Nikolai smiled and thanked Dmitri Edmundovich Gromyoko, the Don of the family. He was an older man, now bald though with a bit of white hair left around the back of his head.
Dmitri didn’t dress like your normal Don, though, in fact he appeared to be the most dressed-down person in the room, opting for a sweater and simple slacks instead of a suit jacket. Dmitri might not have been dressed up for the ceremony, but that was only because he didn’t have to impress anyone. The man’s accomplishments were well known, even among his compatriots.
“Thank you, Dmitri Edmundovich,” Nikolai said.
“Please, just Dmitri, we have been over this before,” he replied while glasses of champagne were distributed. He always enjoyed welcoming a new member into the family fully, especially when it was someone he could consider an old friend.
Nikolai nodded in acknowledgement, taking a sip of the champagne. The words ‘high class’ came to mind, and it was obvious that it cost a lot. Still he waited patiently as various other family members came up to him to shake hands, offering congratulations. Dmitri chatted with Svetlana for a few minutes before taking his old friend aside, away from the crowd. “I wanted to thank you for bringing certain matters to my attention,” the older Russian said.
“I just hope that some progress can be made on the matter,” Nikolai replied steadily. Shortly after the disastrous White Hat meeting, he'd met with Jimmy about his concerns regarding the Council. Jimmy thought the matter important enough due to their demon connections that the two of them brought it to Svetlana, then kicked it upstairs all the way to Dmitri himself.
“Unfortuantely not as much as I had hoped,” Dmitri replied slowly and steadily. That was the thing about Dmitri, with his heavy accent he’d gotten used to speaking slowly most of the time for translators when he had to meet with other people - a habit that stayed in his regular speech as well, even when speaking his native Russian.
Nikolai sighed. It was a problem, ever since he had started on this path, trying to find out what happened. He still remembered the day that he and Alessa had decided to start on doing their detective work.
19 March 2004
The Armoury
10:27am
Alessa yawned. She was leaning on the Armoury’s display cases and trying not to fall asleep on her feet. It was early in the morning, not one customer had walked in yet, and she was way too sleepy. She covered her mouth and tried to suppress yet another yawn - she'd better get something to do, else she would fall asleep on her feet.
Walking to the back of the shop, she took a crowbar and started to open the crates that still were waiting to be unpacked. She had been working for a few moments when she stopped, finding herself looking at the crowbar. She frowned and took it with both her hands, as if weighing it. A crowbar. What did it have of special significance that had her so enthralled? She just couldn’t figure it out, the memory evaded her. Like all those other memories… of the Council.
The Watchers’ Council. The Council was like the crowbar, it reminded her of something but she just couldn’t figure it out… how could Tash rebuff her ‘not-quite-memories’ so easily? So matter-of-factly? Her knuckles around the crowbar had grown white with the strength she was gripping the tool and she quickly let it drop.
Nikolai jumped with a start as he heard the sound of a crowbar hit the floor, walking in to find Alessa in the middle of attempting to open up a crate. After everything he'd heard from Alicia the day before, he fully intended on finding out what he could from Alessa about her capture which Daye had returned her from.
"I actually find a hammer works to get it under the lid of the crate," Nikolai spoke, getting her attention. "And if it doesn't, well, the added force might just break part of the top off."
“What?” Alessa just looked at him, confused, then she noticed the crowbar lying on the floor.
“Oh, that. It’s not that… I” shaking her head to focus, she smiled. “I’ll use the crowbar, don’t worry. I’m quite handy with them, I don’t know what happened. Gracias, anyway.”
Nikolai nodded, making as though to go before he noticed her rather disturbed state of mind. He stopped at the door, turning back to face her. "Is something wrong?" he asked, approaching again. "And if it is, would you like to talk about it? It doesn't seem to be rather busy today, so..."
Talk about it? How much could she tell him? But then, he was Tash’s friend, as well as Reah, and Reah was part of the White Hats too. She should tell them about her fight with Tash, they may even want her to go… Breathing deeply, she nodded, making up her mind.
“I… I had a fight with Tash a few days ago… pretty nasty too.” Alessa bit her lip, this was a mistake. “I’m sorry, I know Tash is your friend and all… forget about it.”
Nikolai raised an eyebrow at that, curious at the suggestion. From the looks of her, he was guessing this was not a physical fight - either that, or Alessa was very powerful. He smiled half-playfully at her. "Well if you had a fight with Tash, I'm not going to come between you. But if you want to talk about what happened, my ear is always open..."
“I left the White Hats.” Her mouth spurted, somewhat disconnected from her mind.
Nikolai stopped in surprise for a moment. That would certainly cause a problem with Tash, he thought. He could see her being pissed off for no other reason than losing someone talented. "Really? What happened?"
*Damn. How do I tell him without having him all mad at me too?* She breathed deeply again, gathering strength. “I just don’t feel part of the group anymore. I didn’t feel backed up when I needed them most, and…” she stopped talking. Nikolai was Tash’s friend, but she didn’t think she should tell him more about the White Hat’s dealings. “Well, the rest is somewhat referred to the White Hats, I don’t think I’m free to tell you…”
"Fair enough," he said, noting that she seemed to be on the defensive. When she was ready to talk about it, she would. "If you don't mind, though, I would like to know more about what happened when you 'disappeared'."
She nodded, that was safe ground. “That I can, although there isn’t much I can tell you, actually.” She left the crowbar on top of the crate and sat down on a lower one. “I was in London when I was kidnapped. I remember walking in Hyde Park… the next I remember I’m in a plane and Daye is making a healing spell. It was Inés, my cousin, who could finally contact me. My cousin is a full Verbati, and she can link telepathically with me, you know?” she explained.
“She received glimpses of a jungle and could make enough sense of my thoughts to know I was in Colombia and in the hands of the Council.” Alessa was silent for a few minutes. She had to steady herself before going on. “With that knowledge and some information my friend Ellis had gathered they could make the accurate guess that I was being held in the “Isla Nublada”, a research facility on Colombia.”
Alessa sneered, “A Watchers’ Council research facility…”
Nikolai coughed some, trying to regain his composure, Alicia's words coming back to him. The rumours about one of the men in the Council being connected to something, abuse of power. Possibly just lies that were a part of the politics of the organisation, but with what he did to Ryan it was possible. "The Watchers?" he said, somehow keeping the surprise out of his voice. *Better not tell her about Alicia, then.*
"I've heard a few things," he started, considering her next reaction carefully. "Does the name Delancre mean anything to you?"
Alessa sniffed in contempt. “The Watchers’ First Elder. Tash’s new frien-” She stopped, a hand on her mouth, realizing she had talked too much. “Damn! I wasn’t supposed to tell you about that!”
This time Nikolai couldn't hide his surprise, though he could see how that would cause a problem with the Council kidnapping Alessa. "Tash's new friend?" he said in surprise. In his shock, he couldn't contain the rumour about Ryan. "This is the same Ambrose Delancre who conditioned a demon into a killing machine?"
A wave of nausea went through Alessa and she had to rest her hands on the crate she was sitting on to keep herself from falling off it. Déjà vu. Not for the first time too. A group of demons, fighting in close formation… a surgical table… cages… Alessa’s face lost all its color, and her eyes got stark.
“Killing machine?” she asked in the weakest whisper. The thought was enough to send a shrill of fear down her spine, and she could feel all the little hairs on her neck stand. “… is that what they wanted to do to me?” She turned very scared eyes on him, it was her turn to want answers. “What do you know, Nikolai? It’s only fair you tell me.”
Nikolai was taken aback by fear coursing through her, it was one reaction he hadn't expected though he probably should have. In the future, he would have to control his surprise better.
"You have to keep in mind that I can't prove any of this, but..." he trailed off. Should he tell her about Alicia? He decided not to and would just remain vague. "There are rumours in the Council that their new First Elder is involved in some less than shady deals. More than that, I have a source who tells me that he took Daye's first lover - a demon lover - away from her and... reprogrammed him.”
"Much more than that, I really don't know. It's all rumour and conjecture at this point, but I intend to find out what the hell is going on. Especially if Delancre has Tash's ear now."
“Oh, he has. She has cut a deal with him, and she’s quite proud of herself, the silly chit.” She stopped and looked at him, worried. “Sorry about that, but she is really proud of it. I tried to tell her that the Council is not to be trusted, but she wouldn’t listen to me. And I’ve had enough experience, believe me, for more than forty years.”
“What you tell me makes sense, though. I… I had a memory flash right now, when you mentioned the… the… that!”
She suppressed another shiver, she couldn’t even mention it, and she hated herself because of it. “Some kind of laboratory, a surgical table… fighting demons…” she shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s all too fuzzy, but it’s the first thing I’ve remembered of that month apart from the feeling of utter dread.”
Nikolai rubbed his chin as he thought that information over. It would seem to make sense and confirm what he already knew, but then - what if she was inventing it? Memory was a constructive process, and people could 'invent' memories. That had been shown doing experiments with children already. No matter how much it fit, they had to be careful. More to the point: what would he do? Here was someone who could have experienced a level of brutality that was just unthinkable firsthand thanks to them.
It was then that Nikolai knew that until he had gotten to the bottom of this, he could never actively support anything the Council did. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling a bit guilty for bringing it up. "It may take a while, but I promise to try to find out what happened. The Xangyarj never trusted the Council either, not fully, but we never would have expected something like that."
“The Council was ready to kill me forty years ago, just to ensure one of their ‘mighty Watchers’ didn’t tread the wrong path. They didn’t consider me worthy of the least consideration due to my mixed blood.” She spat the words. “I don’t doubt any of this it’s true.”
"Be that as it may, we need more to go on than a few rumours from within the Council and your amnesia." He raised a hand before she could snap at him. "It's true, Alessa. We both know that the other White Hats will want evidence, or want to find it."
She sniffed, but she knew he was right. Even her, sure as she was, couldn’t pretend to convince anybody only with vague assumptions. Then she noticed what he’d said.
“The other White Hats? You belong to the White Hats? And you let me beat around the bush, feeling guilty for voicing their secrets?” she got increasingly angry, “Why ever didn’t you tell me?”
“Um…” Nikolai stammered, trying to find a plausible explanation. “I guess I forgot to mention it with everything that’s been going on – I joined about a week after you disappeared. I’m sorry,” he added hastily.
“But that’s not the important thing,” he tried to go on quickly. “We have more pressing concerns if Tash is willing to make an alliance with the Council. Like how to prove what happened to everyone else.” If it even could be proved, he thought.
Alessa opened her mouth a couple of times, searching her words. He must be kidding - forgot to mention it? No way. Not Nikolai, at least, he wasn’t the kind to ‘forget’ things. *He most probably felt my anger at them,* she mused, *but I’m working for Reah for Christ sake! He should have know I wouldn’t rebuff him!*
Forcing a tight smile, Alessa nodded, trying to focus in his last words. “You are right,” she conceded. “But I don’t know how can that be done, I just can't remember anything.” Then she blushed, remembering Tash’s offer to read her; she hadn't wanted to take it that time. Maybe if she had, things would have been different between them.
Nikolai considered this for a moment. “Well, we know the facility was in Colombia and that there are rumours about Delancre himself. Perhaps if we used that as a starting point, and canvassed the streets for information.”
She nodded again. She knew Ellis was following exactly those trails, but Nikolai moved in a different circle than her lover. However, it wouldn’t hurt if he knew about it. She rubbed her eyes; all this talk about the Council had given her a hell of a headache.
“I have a friend who is trying to follow that same lead. For one he found out that Delancre himself arrived to the States from Colombia. Ellis has some contacts inside the Council too, and he’s working on it.”
Nikolai nodded. He was willing to bet that it would take a fair amount to supply an operation there, but merely arriving from Colombia wasn’t a strict indictment. And he almost certainly wouldn’t want to leave a paper trail if he wanted to keep it secret.
It was possible that the family heard something – or if not them, someone else. “I have a contact in the Council as well. Perhaps between the two of us we can find out what is going on.”
She smiled, “Maybe you two could meet then…” She looked down to her hands before going on, thinking about Tash’s offer again, “I… I know maybe the answers are inside my mind too. I was a little… reluctant to put myself in Tash’s hands, literally, but maybe that is the only way we could solve this…”
She saw the look of surprise on his face and hurried on. “I mean, not with Tash, I don’t think she’d give me the time of day at this point… but some other psychic? Or a mage, who could do a counter spell? Daye said my memories had been erased with magic.”
“Possibly. I don’t know enough about magic to comment,” he said, feeling uneasy at the mention of Daye. “But I’d rather not get Daye involved if at all possible. I already have to work not to have her whacked as it is.” He suddenly stopped, realizing that he’d said too much.
Alessa’s eyes went round with the not so hidden discomfort in his demeanor. “What do you mean? What’s happened to Daye?”
"Nothing... yet," Nikolai said steadily, sighing. He might as well tell her. "The bitch tried to rape me, Alessa. Using magic."
She blinked. *Daye? Rape Nikolai? With magic?* “But, but… Daye?” she asked, feeling stupid to put into words her telegraphic thoughts, but Daye? the woman was one of the most centered persons she had met, what could have happened to her?
“I’m sorry, I’m not doubting you… it’s just that it doesn’t sound like Daye at all,” she hurried to explain, and shivered again. Rape. Why the hell did that word made her feel all queasy too. She had never been raped, had she? She shook her head. “I’m sorry Nikolai.”
“She’s… come by to apologise,” he admitted difficultly. “She seemed genuinely regretful, but still if she tries anything like that again I’m going to kill her.”
Kill her? That didn’t sound like Nikolai either, it seemed that everybody was acting strange lately. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t, then,” she said, trying to sound conciliatory. “But she’s not the only mage we know, anyway. Maybe Kate…”
Something in his eyes told her that Kate wasn’t a good option either, and then Cole was missing and she wouldn’t even talk to Tash or Darian… it seemed everything was falling down around them.
She sighed, rubbing her eyes again. “I guess we’ll just have to use your detective abilities, then, and Ellis’.”
Nikolai nodded again, that was obviously the person who she was talking about before, her own contact. It might be a good idea to knock heads with him at some point but he had other people to check with first.
“That is probably what we’ll have to do.”
The Present
Nikolai looked at Dmitri carefully, trying to gauge his reactions. “You’ve found something out?”
“Not a whole lot, as I said. My own contacts do not know what they are doing there, only that it is kept in the highest secrecy.” Dmitri looked around, making sure that nobody was else was within hearing range as he spoke. “I am greatly worried about the people in our employ who are less than fully human. You are a made man now, my friend, so you now have the latitude on the streets you may need to conduct your investigation. Jimmy will work under you to get to the bottom of this.”
“I understand,” Nikolai replied. This was certainly an important charge, he realised. Of course the family had an interest in finding out what happened. Loyalty and protection went hand in hand, and if they couldn’t show some protection to the people who were ‘made’ and of demonic origin, they had no right to respect loyalty. If a more active Council now posed a threat, that could be bad.
“Very good, I am counting on you to determine if we have a new enemy to defend against. But for now,” Dmitri gestured broadly and smiled, “let us eat!”
Galen and Kate Talk
Monday, 16 April 2007 – 6:04pm - The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Galen slowly walked into the bedroom.
The drapes had been pulled back a little, allowing a small amount of sunlight into the room but it was still rather gloomy and he had to strain his eyes to make out the languid form of his wife as she half reclined on the chaise by the window, her figure shrouded in dull, grey shadows.
He moved closer to where Kate lay, propped up by several pillows and her head resting on the high back of the couch. Her long red hair hung limply over her shoulders, occasionally catching a glimpse of sunlight as she moved restlessly, her hands spread on the thin comforter that covered her legs.
Galen couldn’t believe how altered she appeared. Her eyes were open but there was a distinctly glazed and distant look about them, their usual sparkle and verve hidden behind a mask of vague coolness as she stared into nothing, as though not even aware of his presence. As Galen came closer he could clearly see damp tearstains edging the corners of her eyes, eyes that were rimmed with redness and sore and dark from lack of sleep.
“Honey?” he said softly, crouching low next to the side of the chaise. He carefully watched her as she tilted her head and looked straight through him. Her skin was so pale it almost seemed translucent with a waxy tinge like a china doll, and she was thinner – even more so than the last time he had seen her. *She’s going to die if she carries on like this,* he thought soberly, slowly reaching out to brush back her hair from her face.
He smiled sadly as he fingered the tired red locks, tucking the strand of hair behind her ear gently.
“Your lips look sore,” he said almost to himself, picking up a small pot of lipbalm from Kate’s dressing table and rubbing some onto his index finger. “Here…” he said gently, reaching out and smearing the morello cherry flavoured grease onto her dry lips with tender attention. His eyes were religiously focused on her lips as he drew his finger across them lovingly.
“There…” he said finally, looking up into Kate’s eyes, “Does that feel better?”
Kate rubbed her lips together gently, releasing a tired sigh as she nodded.
Galen smiled and brushed back her hair again as it fell into her face once more. He swept it away, holding his hand cupped against her cheek while he just looked at her. He wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment, to hold her in his arms and just pretend that the last few months had never happened. But he fought down that urge, determined to play this one by the book. He wasn’t going to let his hormones screw things up this time, he had to think of Kate, of what she needed from him rather than listening to that pang of desire that she ignited inside him whenever he was close to her.
“You know I was thinking a few days ago,” he began gently, perching himself on the edge of the chaise next to her. “I was thinking about when we first met, I mean after the whole Serapis thing. Do you remember? After you came out of the hospital and I kept coming round to see you?”
He smiled reminiscently, “You had me completely under your spell – metaphorically of course.” Galen sighed as he continued to recall that happier time. “You were all I could think about for days at a time. I convinced myself that I just wanted to help you, that my interest in you was purely professional but I think deep down I knew that I was falling for you, even in those first few days.”
He laughed amusedly, looking into Kate’s eyes again. “You never knew but I used to invent reasons so that I could come and see you, phoney leads about those missing acolytes, stuff like that, just so I had an excuse to call around.”
Kate smiled, reaching out her hand and laying it on top of Galen’s. “I knew.”
Galen returned her smile brightly, turning his hand so that he could lace his fingers together with hers. Kate’s smile seemed to bring her to life, adding renewed vigour into her deathly appearance. “You knew?”
Kate nodded, “Well… your excuses were very bad. I believe you called around once because you’d forgotten your notebook…”
Galen chuckled quietly, hanging his head in embarrassment as he too remembered that incident.
Kate smiled again lightly, “I asked if you had time for a cup of herbal tea and you didn’t leave for another four hours.”
Galen mirrored Kate’s smile, squeezing her hand firmly and suddenly noticing the slight raised scars that lined her palm. Looking down he caught a glimpse of her wrists and the same red welts that marred her pale flesh. He winced slightly but decided against saying anything just yet; she’d only just begun to open up and he didn’t want to risk estranging her so soon.
Instead he looked back up into Kate’s face and shook his head, trying to regain his train of thought. “I didn’t even like herbal tea, I was just so crazy about you.” He gently reached up with his free hand and ran his fingers through her hair again. “You were so unlike anyone I’d ever met before, so passionate, so open. I’d never encountered such honesty in my line of work before; it was all National Security, what to say, what not to say, how much you can trust people. But you… you just contradicted all of that, made me actually want to tell you things about myself, things I’d never told anyone before.”
He fixed her with a serious stare, “I didn’t know why I felt that way at first, but I figured it out recently. It was because I knew that I could trust you and I knew that you’d understand, because you understood who I was, I don’t know how you did it but you did. You understood me. I’ve never felt anything like that before, to be with another person and to feel like you can be yourself with them.”
Kate moistened her lips, tasting the bitter cherry flavour inside her mouth and released a short sigh before she spoke, her voice listless and sad. “But you lied to me, I didn’t know who you were. I thought you were a regular guy and you turned out to have this entire other life that you’d kept hidden from me.”
Galen nodded his head, “I know.”
“You lied to me again…” she said distantly, looking through him again. “You had sex with my…” Kate sighed weakly, “with my best friend… and you called me a whore and a slut,” Kate’s voice was brittle with resentment as she punctuated the words ‘whore’ and ‘slut’ with the same force that Galen had delivered them all those weeks ago.
She hung her head sorrowfully and her voice broke under the pressure of her misery as fresh tears glistened in her eyes. “You made me feel like dirt, you… made me feel… worthless.” Kate slowly levelled her gaze at Galen again, holding his attention for long, painful minutes before she spoke again. “And all the while you were hiding a dirty secret of your own, too much of a coward to tell me!”
Galen looked into her eyes, his face etched with remorse and pain. She was right, about everything. What right had he to call her any of those things with his own betrayal fresh in his mind? “I didn’t want to hurt you…” he said pathetically.
“Well you did…” cried Kate in absolute agony. “Goddamn it, you did!” Suddenly she launched herself at him, her fists flying. Galen half caught her in his arms, surprised and startled while more than a little scared.
“How could you?!” Kate screamed in rage. “How could you do it with her?! How could you do it with HER?!” Kate cried out in a mixture of anger and disappointment, her fists beating impotently against her husband with the little strength she actually had left to fuel her rage.
Galen closed his eyes as he held her, not even attempting to stave off Kate’s weak attack. He knew as well as she did that she couldn’t hurt him. They’d hurt each other far too much in the past couple of months for anything else to matter anyway.
“Hit me! Come on Kate!” he demanded before wrapping his own arms around her and pulling her in close. “Let it out…” he soothed as he held her, his hold tightening somewhat and drawing her closer as her weak punches became fewer and fewer.
Eventually Kate just gave up and collapsed in his embrace, worn out as she wept, her body trembling and shuddering beneath his arms. All the while Galen just kept holding on, his hand cradling the back of her head and stroking through her hair gently. “It’s okay…” he soothed as she continued to weep, “It’s okay… you let everything out, you want to hit me some more then that’s good… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”
Kate wept bitterly, burying her face against Galen’s crisp white shirt, feeling the muscular hardness of his chest beneath. She held onto him tightly, twisting his shirt up in her hands, You did hurt me…” she continued to moan weakly, “You did hurt me…”
“I know,” whispered Galen sadly as he held her firmly against his body. Her sudden outburst had disturbed him but at least it was a response and Kate had finally released some of that anger that she was holding onto so rigidly.
As Kate’s sobs grew quieter, Galen leaned low and kissed the top of her head lovingly, holding her tighter. “The morning that I moved out… you asked me if I’d ever made a mistake, a stupid mistake that I’d do anything to take back, to make right again.” Galen sighed as he rested his chin against Kate’s head, his arms holding her close against his heart.
“Well, you were right, I did. What happened with…” Galen drew in a shaky breath, glancing down at his wife. She was quiet now, though occasionally a smothered whimper escaped her lips. “It was a mistake,” he finished, deciding not to say Amanda’s name for fear of upsetting Kate again. Her condition was undeniably delicate, he could see that now. The slightest trigger could easily send her into either a furious rant or a fit of tears.
“I wish I could take it back just like you wish you could take back what happened with-” he paused again, sighing. “But we can’t, and we can’t make what either of us did right. The only thing we can try to do is forgive one another and move on. After all, like you said, we’re even now… right?”
“No…” mumbled Kate after a moment, turning her face up to look at her husband. She shook her head sadly. “We’ll never be even, Galen.”
Galen frowned as Kate disentangled herself from his arms and rose to her feet, walking over to the window and parting the thin, milky white voiles so that she could look out into the garden below.
“I know I hurt you,” he said quietly, just sitting and watching Kate where she stood, “I know things will never be the same between us again. But surely we can put all this behind us, it might take a while but I… I simply can’t live without you, I need you in my life, Kate. That has to count for something.”
Kate’s eyelashes gently dipped as she continued to gaze out of the window, ebony on ivory, the afternoon sun caressing her pale skin and giving her an almost ethereal look.
Galen looked at her silently, breathing a heavy sigh. “I always believed that you were too good for me,” he admitted suddenly, balling his hands together awkwardly, “That someday you’d look at me and realise what a mistake you’d made settling for someone like me.”
He arose from the chaise and walked over to where Kate stood, still gazing out of the window, the gentle tilt of her head indicating that, although she appeared not to be, she was listening to his every word attentively.
“You are so beautiful, Kate,” Galen said softly, placing his hands on both sides of her shoulders, “You’re beautiful and intelligent and you have this amazing gift that just… totally rocks my world. You’re special, you’re someone special. All my life I’ve tried to make a difference, tried to become somebody, and all I seem to do is mess things up.”
Galen leaned in and gently pressed his mouth against Kate’s ear, whispering to her tenderly. “I couldn’t believe my luck when you actually seemed to feel something for me too, when you came back from England after all those months and we…” he smiled modestly. He’d spent a lot of time reliving those early memories during the past few weeks, remembering just why he’d fallen in love with Kate in the first place. How could he have ever lost sight of that?
“Well,” he continued, “when you came back, I felt like I must have done something right for once. You were so loving and open, you told me things about yourself, about your life – I’d never felt so close to someone after knowing them for such a short while. Falling in love with you was so easy I didn’t even realise it had happened, but when you told me you were in love with me too… I would have done anything to hold on to you.”
Galen gently pulled back, but kept his hold on Kate, rubbing her bare shoulders soothingly. “I’ve never been a religious man, but I worshiped you, you were my goddess.” Galen sighed wearily, “Maybe that’s why I was so… I never believed you could do anything wrong, I always thought that you were perfect.”
“I lost our baby…”
Kate’s voice was tired and dry, almost a whisper and cracking with emotion. Slowly she turned to face Galen, her eyes sad and unhappy. “I lost our baby…” she repeated again emptily.
Galen forced himself to meet her gaze and he looked into her eyes, mirroring the sadness he saw there, his own eyes clouding over with grief. “You didn’t do anything wrong, there was nothing either of us could have done-”
“-No,” interrupted Kate quickly, pressing her fingers against Galen’s lips to stop him talking, her gaze rolling over him for a moment and her own lips moving wordlessly as she struggled to find the words to speak with. “You… you don’t understand…” she admitted gently, shaking her head miserably.
“Of course I understand,” insisted Galen gently, reaching out and brushing a stray tendril of hair from her face. “Kate, I was there, I know how you’re feeling, that pain deep inside, I know you want to blame yourself, so do I, but you shouldn’t, neither of us should. What happened… it was just how the doctors said, one of those terrible, terrible things that just happen without knowing why.”
“No…” moaned Kate weakly, batting Galen’s hand away and pulling back from him. She stumbled over to the bed and slumped down, her back facing her husband. “I know why it happened… I’m being punished.”
Galen frowned, following Kate over to the bed and sitting a little behind her and laying his hand on her bare shoulder, just stroking it slowly. “And what could you have done to deserve such a horrible punishment?”
Kate’s eyelids lowered slowly as she looked down into her lap, fidgeting with her fingers uneasily. “I was too happy, everything was too perfect… I had you and Emma and Jack and I- I still wanted more… wanted another baby because I…” she slowly turned so that she could look Galen in the face. She gazed at his weary features longingly, reaching up and letting her fingertips trace every line gently. “Because I loved you so much,” she whispered.
Her eyes fell again sadly, drawing her gaze away from Galen’s grief-ridden expression. “I wanted too much and I h-had to be punished for that… and I have, because now it’s all gone.”
Galen slowly shook his head. “No… it isn’t all gone. We might have lost Emma, but we’ll always remember her and part of her will always be alive within us.” Galen took hold of Kate’s hand and squeezed it, holding it up against his heart. “Here,” he said gently but insistently, “where it counts, and here,” he placed his free hand against Kate’s heart, “in you.”
Galen’s warm brown eyes shone with deep affection as he squeezed her hand tighter. “And you still have Jack and I-” he paused for a moment, feeling a tired ache in his heart, “I love you.”
A flicker of surprise caused Kate to return her gaze to meet Galen’s again. He smiled at her gently, brushing his hand against her cheek with loving attention; tiredly she pushed him away.
“You can’t love me Galen,” she protested weakly, “Not after everything that’s happened between us. We are bad for one another, don’t you see that? We make each other miserable.”
“Is that why you did this?” Galen looked down at Kate’s hands, running his fingers over the sore looking red welts that were echoed on her wrists. “Did I make you so miserable?”
Kate shook her head, averting her eyes and pulling her hands out of Galen’s to tuck them self-consciously under her arms. “It was an accident… I, I broke a mirror, I w-was trying to clean it up and I… I slipped…”
Galen fixed Kate with a firm, unyielding stare and lifted her chin to force her to look at him. “You wouldn’t lie to me about this would you?” he asked sternly.
Kate’s wide blue eyes burned into his as she tried to hold on to her ‘truth’. Finally she broke away, shaking her head again.
“What happened?” Galen asked again, more gently this time.
“I just wanted it to end…” she said determinedly, rising to her feet and walking in an agitated manner across the floor.
Galen frowned in confusion as he followed her frantic, uncoordinated movements with his eyes. “What?”
“The PAIN!” Kate cried out desperately, a great sob of despair erupting from her trembling lips. “I can’t stand it Galen! It’s always there…” she beat her hand against her heart, pulling at the cotton fabric of her vest.
“I just… wanted it… to STOP! The voices, in my head…” Kate ran her hands in a disturbed manner over her face and the back of her head as though trying to rid herself of some invisible demon. “They won’t leave me alone and… and…”
Kate gasped breathlessly as her chest rose and fell rapidly. Galen leapt from the bed to her side and sat her back down on the chaise, rubbing her back soothingly in an effort to stave off the eventual panic attack.
“Shhh,” he whispered calmly though inside he felt anything but. He pulled her into his arms again and held her close, feeling her slowly begin to ease in his embrace. “Hey…” he said gently as she lifted her head to look at him, “it’s been a while since you had one of those uh?”
Kate nodded silently as her breathing gradually returned to normal. “Galen… I’m scared…” she admitted tentatively, “I… I think I’m losing my mind… I don’t want to be the person I’m turning into but… I just feel cold inside… and empty. I, I just have this hollow shell and I don’t know what I’m supposed to fill it with.” Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks, “I just want the old Kate back…”
Galen looked sadly at his wife and nodded, reaching out to wipe away her tears with his thumb. “I want her back too.”
Kate lifted her chin slowly, looking down at Galen through half-closed eyelids. Gradually she tilted her head, moving closer until her lips hovered just above his, soft and invitingly close, her warm breath beating against Galen’s mouth.
“No, Kate,” he said suddenly, holding her back gently. “You’re not well, I want to… kiss you and… well…” he hung his head shyly. “I love you, I want to help you, I just think we should take this slow. You need…”
“I need you…” moaned Kate longingly, stroking her hand across the back of Galen’s neck and gently running her fingers through the short lengths of hair at the nape.
“I don’t think we should,” repeated Galen, fighting back those urges that he felt at her touch. “I want to take care of you, but I can’t do that to the best of my abilities if I’m…” he sighed awkwardly. “This is for the best, for now at least. I don’t think you should be rushed into anything right now. You’ve been through a lot recently, we both have. I think we’d benefit from a little time. Don’t you?”
Kate nodded, if reluctantly.
Galen smiled and held her close again, nursing her in his arms. “Good. Then how about I run you a nice warm bath, you know… with bubbles and all those things you like hmm? It’ll help you relax and I can make you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” mumbled Kate.
“You have to eat,” said Galen firmly, frowning a little, “You’re much too thin.” He drew back a little and held Kate’s face in both his hands lovingly. “I’m going to move back in and take care of you until you’re better again, okay? Would you like that?”
Kate looked up at him before slowly nodding her head.
“Good,” Galen said with an air of finality, “Then it’s settled. I’ll tell Jack and I can pick up the rest of my things tomorrow morning. Now, why don’t I go see to your bath?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** Monday, April 16, 2007 around 7 pm ***
*** Clearing in the Santa Monica hills ***
Daye sat in the open clearing as the afternoon sun sank behind the nearby mountains. She drew in deep even breaths and exhaled slowly, attuning herself to the powerful energy in the ground beneath her feet. She had invoked the Dark Goddess only moments before and could feel the rich power which flowed in her veins. She was sky clad, but her body was covered in arcane symbols drawn in the blood of the lamb that she'd slaughtered herself. These eerie etchings shone in the fading light.
It was only at times like this, times when she had drawn the power and was concentrating on it, that the voices in her head faded and she was able to focus completely on something else. Since she’d sent Sam, Drew, and Maia away, her “mothers” were constantly with her, warring in her subconscious, trying to guide or control her actions. Daye was exhausted and frustrated. The emptiness inside her was a gnawing ache. The only thing that alleviated her suffering was the magic. For the brief time she was engrossed in her spellcraft, she found a respite. So, as often as she could, she worked the dark energies within her. It wasn’t a lasting solution, but it did bring her relief. The added bonus was that it had brought about a reputation of thoroughness and dedication that brought more and more clients every day.
Daye stood in the center of the circle, concentrating and ignoring her growing irritation with her young apprentice. Cole was to have arrived nearly an hour ago to help with the preparations for the ritual. She had been explicit in her expectations when they had talked two days before.
Daye's clients were a powerful family of Herzak demons, and they had been quite clear that failure would not be tolerated. Someone within the family or someone in their close employ was selling secrets to their rivals and they were determined to find out who so that the proper punishment could be enacted. Herzak were not known for their mercy, but this particular traitor was skilled at hiding. They had had no luck in uncovering his identity. That was where Daye came in. They had hired her, for a phenomenal fee, and left behind two things. A box containing personal items from each person suspected of betrayal and instructions that the culprit be left alive. Daye had decided that a powerful searching ritual would do the trick, and the culprit would be immediately obvious to her client, as the ritual left the object of the search marked by burning the Hand of Ismael onto their face.
It was the perfect choice, and Daye was excited by the prospect of making use of the spell, but it had to be done at precisely the right moment, when certain forces were aligned just right, and that time, which would come in a scant few minutes, would not come again for an entire month. Daye doubted that the Herzak would be willing to wait if they failed to get things done in the proper time.
Thus, Daye stood in the circle, waiting to close it, waiting for her tardy apprentice and trying to push all irritation and distraction from her mind.
Moments passed and the time frame for the spell was minutes away from ending. Cole was going to miss this week’s lesson, and that did not please his mistress, not one bit.
Raising her arms to finish the incantation, Daye jumped in surprise as a foreign voice began to speak over hers.
“And let the hand of Ismael char the venom from the forked tongue of the betrayer. Let all who walk, see truth where darkness reigns, let all see the serpent for what it is.”
A flash of black smoke began to swirl within the circle, until finally dissipating into nothingness - Cole had finished the spell for her.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, not an iota of sincerity in his voice, as he dropped his backpack on the ground, “I had to take care of certain obligations.”
After he and Vince had bested Darlome, they realized that James would be out for blood, thus turning their current residence into somewhat of a danger zone. As a result, they had decided to move from the luxurious penthouse and find a new haven, if only temporarily.
Returning his thoughts to the moment at hand, Cole looked up at his mistress’ naked form. “Didn’t know red runes were in style this season, I had heard green was the new ‘in’ color,” he joked cheekily.
Daye stared incredulously at Cole. The boy had sauntered into the circle at the last possible moment and then finished her incantation. He now stood insolently only a few feet away, dressed in his street clothes!
"Are you completely cracked?" Daye asked softly, her voice a menacing hiss. "You're not purified! You're not prepared! You're not protected!"
Cole looked up, a little shocked that Amanda was upset. “Nice to see you too,” he replied back sarcastically. Daye did not seem to find the joke funny. “Oh come on Amanda, don’t get a twist in your panties, I finished the spell, so no harm no foul right?” Daye’s icy body language obviously conveyed that she was far from pleased.
“Ok, ok, it won’t happen again… Gee, thought you’d be happy I could finish the spell myself,” he mumbled under his breath, hoping to move passed this moment of awkwardness.
Daye rolled her eyes. *The arrogance of youth,* she thought to herself, moving out of the circle to snag her deep red robes and slip them on her unclad body. The material was rich velvet and cradled her naked flesh, just one of the many indulgences her new undertaking allowed her. Business was booming and her reputation was quickly spreading amongst the underworld. She'd made helpful connections with and through Nikolai, so she had access to all the materials she needed and had even garnered a few new clients that way. The thing was, people came to her, or recommended her, because she was professional, because she did things quickly and efficiently. They knew that with Amanda Blaise you were getting a skilled witch who knew how to keep her mouth shut and got things done. Cole's little stunt could have caused the spell to go awry in so many ways, and that really pissed Daye off.
"Look, kid," Daye replied, reproach in her tone, "there are ways we do things, and reasons for those ways. You can't just go off half cocked all the time, without making plans. That's a good way to get someone killed... like me maybe. And frankly, I don't like you enough to die for you."
A grimace marred the boy’s face, *Pompous bitch.* “You were never in any danger Amanda, you and I both know that. I could have finished that spell in my sleep, there was no chance of me messing up!” he retorted.
“And on the same note, I think you should really speed things up a little in my training, I mastered the last week’s lesson the night we finished, hardly a difficult curriculum if you ask me.”
Daye sighed. She struggled for patience.
*The boy is insolent and arrogant. He is a threat. Destroy him now!*
*Patience my love, he is just a child… and he suffers as you do. You must help him. You must help yourself.*
Daye ignored the words of her “mothers”. She struggled to hide her turmoil as they began to bicker once more.
"Look, Cole, I understand that you are impatient. I get that you really want to be able to do things... right now. I remember how that feels, I really, really do, but still," Daye held up her hand, where a thin line marked the scar from their oath taking ritual, "I'm your mistress. You took an oath, remember. You're bound by your word and your magic is bound as well. I assumed you were serious when you said those words. If so, then you have to be willing to let me teach you."
A sigh escaped his lips as Cole accepted the truth of her words; she was his mistress, and if he wanted to get stronger he would have to listen to her… for now. “You’re right Amanda, I’m letting my eagerness get ahead of me.”
The teen’s eyes grew wide, and his lips poutty as he put on a classic ‘sad puppy dog’ face. “But I get an ‘A’ for enthusiasm right?”
Daye nodded slowly, slightly mollified. "All right," she said hesitantly. She smiled ruefully, coming over to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"And yes, definitely an 'A' for enthusiasm."
She stepped back and considered a moment. "Maybe we can work on a few more intricate spells tonight, as long as we have this lovely moon and all this natural power around," she continued. "What do you say, Cole? Ready to try summoning a Djinn?"
*You should have killed the boy. He’s rude.*
*You should not attempt such a dangerous summoning, Amanda. You are endangering both yourself and the boy.*
*Shut up, naysayer. She has power enough. Stop stifling the girl.*
*Silence, you imposter. My daughter is not your concern.*
Daye shoved the voices down inside and concentrated. As the magic flooded her body and soul, the argument in her mind faded to a background hum. Deep down though, she fretted. The hum was louder, ever louder, and she feared what that might mean.
Stepping back into the circle, Daye guided Cole with words and motions, content that she'd made her point.
A smirk ever so small crossed the young teens face; *A Djinn eh? Now… Now you are becoming useful, Amanda.*
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
16 April 2004
Motel
3:47pm
Nikolai stepped out of his car, buttoning up his suit jacket as he advanced to the small motel room. A large, heavyset man stood outside, nodding once when Nikolai arrived. He’d set Jimmy on the task this morning, before going to track down leads himself, and already they had a possibility. Then he’d gotten the call about an hour ago to meet at the motel.
Inside he found Jimmy with a female demon who appeared to be rather upset. Looking her, it was clear that she fell into the category of things that just simply could not pass for human. Not with the horns and tail, at least. The demoness sat on the edge of the bed crying.
“I can’t get her to stop,” Jimmy confided quietly. “All she’s been doing is crying and the most I can get is ‘they took him’, but not much more.”
“Thanks, Jimmy,” replied Nikolai, eyeing the demoness. Her grief and worry was readily apparent, a bit of shame as well. In the past month of fully accepting his empathic abilities, he'd got better at working out the specifics of feelings. Shame at being unable to protect, worry over what happened.
Sitting down next to the demon woman, he nodded to Jimmy to stand aside. His fellow gangster moved slightly off, hands in front of him, but still obviously able to hear and see what was going on.
“Hi,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for your loss-”
“They took him!” she snapped, almost choked out. She turned to face Nikolai, trying to find out if he was like the previous man there. Something seemed different about him, like he knew just what she was going through. “What do you people want?”
“We’re just here to help,” Nikolai assured her, letting the demon fall against him. “We heard a rumour about his being taken, something about the Council.”
The demoness looked up at Nikolai with more fear in her eyes. “How…?”
“Your mate did a few favours for us,” Jimmy pointed out from across the room, getting her attention. It was true enough, Nikolai could feel the genuine sincerity. “We owe him, when I heard that he disappeared… we owe it him, to try to find out what happened.”
“Trust us, we’re here to help,” Nikolai assured her. “If you just tell us what happened, I swear to you, we will find out what happened.”
“I… I don’t know where they took him,” she said, fighting back tears. “Just that these men, they came… I, I recognised one of them, he’d been following us…”
“Don’t worry,” Nikolai assured her, “everything’s going to work out. We just need to know who.”
“I don’t know, not exactly. It all happened so fast, I… I…”
“Just calm down, yes that’s it, take a deep breath. Can you remember anything about them? Maybe what one of them called each other, what he looked like?”
The demoness nodded. He tossed a glance at Jimmy to wonder why he couldn’t get this information himself. “Would you be willing to help us?”
“How, how do I know they won’t…”
“Jimmy here is going to take you somewhere safe,” Nikolai improvised on the spot. “They won’t be able to touch you, trust me. If you can just give us a description.”
The demoness nodded once in assent. Nikolai thanked her before going back to the door with Jimmy.
“Listen,” he told Jimmy, “get the description, but be careful. I got something to take care of; we get the description, we find whoever it is, and we pluck ‘em off the streets.”
“Right, boss,” Jimmy said, looking amused that in this area it was Nikolai giving the orders.
Nikolai Goes to see Kate
Monday, 16 April 2007 – 7:35pm – The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Kate sat at the kitchen table and sighed. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of solemnity wash over her at the sudden turn of events. Jack’s gruff, commanding voice could be heard in the hallway as he switched between juggling a long distance call to Virginia and receiving an update from Carlisle Wallis. The doctor had taken Kate’s blood samples to the lab and the results would be ready in about a week; in the meantime he was going to recommend one of his colleagues who was a psychic counsellor – specifically trained in the field of what he termed ‘Sensitives’.
Meanwhile, Galen busied himself cooking up a storm in the kitchen, humming almost cheerfully in time to the beating of eggs. Kate hugged herself protectively, feeling more than a bit annoyed that these two men had just suddenly charged themselves with taking over her life. Where had they been when she really needed them? Now they were… inconvenient, a nuisance almost – getting in the way of her plans. How was she supposed to do what she had to with both of them constantly hanging over her?
“You are going to love this, Honey,” mused Galen a little too enthusiastically as he heated up a frying pan and poured the golden, eggy mixture onto the sizzling hot surface. “I used a half-handful of Gruyere cheese and a smidgen of black pepper…”
Kate huffed petulantly as Galen continued to babble on about eggs and cheese and the correct way to brown the underside before making a fold… She focused her attention instead on the place setting that lay in front of her. With the incline of her head the knife, fork, plate and glass all ascended gracefully into the air. Kate smiled and, gesturing a circular motion with her index finger, sent the objects into a harmonious spin, dancing around one another like a culinary mobile.
She laughed in amusement, adding all kinds of objects, an apple and orange, a cup and saucer, several teaspoons that lay drying by the sink… they all joined the macabre formation, rotating like celestial beings, faster and faster.
“Woah!” gasped Galen as he turned around, shocked to see the supernatural display. He glanced uncomfortably at Kate who was entirely absorbed in her task of adding objects, making the manifestation ever more intricate and complex. He tried his best not to radiate feelings of concern but Kate rarely used her powers in such a manner, not in public and certainly not for her own amusement.
“Um… Kate…?” he mumbled hesitantly, touching her shoulder in an attempt to gain her attention.
Kate jumped back a little in surprise, her chair scraping on the kitchen floor as her concentration was broken. As the objects all began their speedy descent, Galen reached out and caught as many things as possible. Still, the cutlery clattered noisily to the floor and the china cup shattered into tiny pieces, the apple rolling under the counter.
“Nice catch,” Kate ventured as she bent to pick up the fork and spoons from the floor.
“Yes… well…” said Galen, a bit flustered as he emptied his arms, “Sit down and you can eat,” he instructed as he placed the finished omelette out onto the plate. “Eggs a la Eldridge,” he said with a smile, grabbing a clean knife and fork from the drawer. “Bon appetite.”
Kate sighed again as she looked at the offending item. “I told you… I’m not hungry…”
“Come on Kate,” said Galen wearily, “you HAVE to eat or you’ll make yourself ill. You’ve lost too much weight as it is… if you don’t eat you’ll end up in hospital.”
“NO,” said Kate firmly, looking up at Galen with wild, alarmed eyes and shaking her head furiously, “No I’m not going back there, no, no, no…”
Galen looked perturbed. He knew Kate had an abject fear of hospitals but… “Then EAT something,” he said sternly, pushing the plate back in front of her. Suddenly the doorbell rang. *Great… what now?*
As Kate rose from her chair to answer the door he pushed her back down firmly. “I’ll get it, you… eat…”
Nikolai felt nervous as hell when he arrived at the Eldridge residence, it was a trip that he knew was long overdue but couldn't avoid any longer in good conscience. He had to let Kate know that he was sorry for how he'd acted the night of... that... and that he was still going to help her in any way that he could. It was, after all, the least that he could do for someone who had quite literally brought him back from a full mental breakdown.
For a moment he almost left the porch, went back to his car, and went away. But that was probably not wise, he figured, so rang the bell quickly before he could change his mind and waited patiently for it to open.
"Hello, Galen," he said a touch nervously. *Yeah, that's right, meet the husband... oh crap, does he know about what happened? Damnit, why do you have to be home now, shouldn't you be investigating the guy we whacked last week?*
He pushed aside the thoughts of rancour before they got him into trouble. Getting worked up over anything that went on between them, or didn't go on, was something that wouldn't serve any productive purpose at the moment. "I was wondering if Katya was at home," he got out without his voice breaking, before noting the stress about Galen. This was not a good sign. "Is everything all right?"
“Well… this isn’t a particularly… convenient time,” said Galen nervously, keeping his voice low so that Kate wouldn’t hear him. “Kate is, well a little out of sorts right now, it might be best if you came by later-”
Suddenly Galen was cut off by a loud crashing sound coming from the kitchen. He looked alarmed for a second before running off in that direction with Nikolai in curious pursuit.
Kate’s anxious cries echoed loudly in the house, followed by another crash, Galen’s heart beat furiously, pounding in his chest. “Kate! Are you all righ- … What the-?”
Galen stared in shock at his wife as she sat huddled on the floor, moaning and holding her head in her hands.
“STOP IT! STOP IT!” she cried furiously, pulling at her hair in distress, tears of frustration rolling down her cheeks. “Oh… God, leave me alone!” she moaned, pressing her hands over her ears, screwing up her eyes tightly. Suddenly the row of potted herbs on the window flew across the room and smashed against the far wall, falling to the floor as Kate continued to whimper and cry out desperately.
Galen uttered something incomprehensibly under his breath as he rushed to her side. “Shhhh, shhhhh,” he soothed, holding Kate and rubbing her back gently. Jack had told him about her ‘visions’ but he’d not yet witnessed them firsthand. “It’s okay…” he whispered softly, “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re not alone… tell me what’s happening…”
Kate looked up, seeing Nikolai over Galen’s shoulder as he stood warily in the doorway. “You are different… I can see it now… like the others, darker, corrupted… you know in your heart it isn’t right but you are driven onwards by something else, something evil. You have to fight it… please… please fight it, don’t let it take you to the dark place too…”
Galen appeared confused until he looked into Kate’s face and turned, following her gaze to where Nikolai stood. “What’s going on?”
"I don't know," Nikolai replied steadily, but he wondered... she'd said something about clairvoyance at one point to him. Didn't she have it? Had she seen something that he would do now that he was made, something she thought he needed to avoid? Whatever it was, it was probably inevitable at this point.
*Don't you think she's on to something, friend Nikolai?*
"I really don't know, but... I've been looking into some rumours recently." Nikolai kneeled down on the floor by her, still letting Galen hold her steady. "Katya, what's wrong?"
Kate shook her head sadly, “Everything has changed… everyone… different.” She looked up at Galen who still held her protectively and smiled at him, resting her head against his chest. “But I am safe… I am protected now.”
Galen cast Nikolai an apologetic glance. “She’s not well, I er, I only came home this afternoon after Jack found her in this state.”
"I understand, she's been through a lot recently." Nikolai suddenly felt even more guilty for not stopping by sooner. Maybe, just maybe if he had actually been there as well, this wouldn't have happened. He couldn't be mad at Galen anymore; he had failed his friend as surely as her husband had.
"I had actually come by to apologise for not being around, recently. Maybe, if I were here as well... something..."
“Now isn’t the time for self-recriminations,” came the voice of Jack Archer as he stood in the doorway. He nodded to Galen, “Carlisle has arranged for one of his colleagues to come and see her tomorrow, maybe then we’ll finally find out what’s been going on around here in our absence.”
“I’m not mad!” announced Kate angrily, pulling herself from Galen’s arms. She suddenly pointed at Nikolai, “Don’t you start trying to control me like them!”
“Hey… hey…” soothed Galen steadily, “No one wants to control you, we just want to help, take care of you. You’re not yourself, you’ve been under a lot of stress, no one is saying that you’re mad.”
“Just because I, I-” began Kate before halting mid-sentence, suddenly leaning against the side of the table dizzily. “…I… …I…”
“It’s okay, Kate,” said Galen gently, taking his wife’s hand and leading her into the sitting room where she could rest more comfortably. If she’d been having such vivid visions then no wonder the house was in the state it was.
Carefully he set her down on the sofa, turning to Jack. “Perhaps you should go sort that prescription out? There’s a 24-hour pharmacy not far from here.”
“Sure,” said Jack co-operatively, already on his way out the door. Five minutes later his car could be heard pulling off from the driveway.
Galen turned back to Nikolai who still had a slightly anxious expression carved into his face. “Like I said, she’s not well. One of Jack’s friends, a doctor, he said it seemed like she’d experienced some sort of traumatic event, I just don’t know what.” He sighed wearily, “So much has happened lately, I just don’t know what could have happened to make her…” he shook his head in despair. “She’s normally so strong willed, y’know?”
Nikolai nodded, he knew just how strong Kate's will could be if she wanted it to be. Once, during the merging, when he'd tried to subconsciously resist the process he got shown just how strong she could be if she wanted. Anything that could do this to her was something to be feared, were it a living creature.
There were so many elements of distress about her that they seemed to mould together, until it became impossible to tell where one ended and another began. *If only I actually were L'Than! She would know exactly what to say.*
*Well then, why don't you stop playing at being Luca Brasi and actually be L'Than. She is a part of you, you know.*
Nikolai shook his head in distress at the advice getting offered to him again. Why was he growing more insistent recently that Nikolai look more closely at his actions?
"Yes, I know. Maybe... do you think I could do something? Talk to her alone? If there's any way at all I can help, I will. I owe her that much after everything she's done for me."
Galen looked doubtful, he wasn’t exactly sure what Nikolai could do for Kate, if anything, and he was reluctant to let her out of his sight again in case she might have another vision. Still… if Nikolai could do anything, get her to talk some more, even just calm her down, it would be enough. Maybe talking to someone else was what Kate needed, maybe she would be able to open up to Nikolai in a way that she couldn’t with himself and Jack because they were too close to the situation.
Sighing, Galen nodded. “Okay, I have a few phone calls to make anyway.”
He knelt down by Kate’s side and smoothed back her hair, kissing her cheek gently, “Honey? Nikolai is going to stay with you while I sort out some time off from work, I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need me, okay?”
Kate looked at Galen steadily before nodding in agreement, watching him as he rose to his feet and reluctantly left her alone with her friend.
Nikolai watched Galen leave carefully, feeling Kate's slight relief at that. He knew that he had to be careful, couldn't appear to be controlling at all. At the same time, he couldn't push her away from them. It was a rock and a hard place to be sure.
Sitting down near her, he sat there in silence for a moment. "I, uh, should probably say this as soon as possible. I wanted to apologise for last month. The way I was... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have acted that way."
Kate frowned, feeling her previous anxiety and fear wearing off some leaving her once again, much more in control of her own faculties. “You mean the morning after Damen and I fucked each other to the point of insensibility in your bed?” She noted Koyla wince at her straightforwardness and placed her hand on top of his gently. “To be honest I was feeling so awful that morning I doubt you could have made me feel any worse.”
Nikolai scratched the back of his head some in unease. "Yes, well, um, I still shouldn't have acted that way," he got out. Whatever happened to her must have been really bad. His brow knitted together in thought. "What did you mean in there, Katya, about darkness?"
Kate looked into the distance nonchalantly, twisting a long strand of hair around her index finger. “I don’t know… just something I felt… I looked at you and I saw black, that was all.”
Nikolai laughed. "Probably annoyance at my spirit guide. He's been getting more... insistent... lately." He sighed, considering Kate carefully. "Is there anything I can do for you, Katya?"
Kate shook her head, sighing tiredly, “Nothing… I know what I have to do, how to make things right again, but it’s going to take time, patience… I don’t feel very patient anymore.” She turned to face Nikolai properly and frowned in concern before smiling, “If your guide is more insistent, perhaps you should listen to him more carefully?”
She drew her fingers against the side of Koyla’s head, stroking through the short lengths of his hair. “The voices that we hear… sometimes they say things that are difficult to accept, we want to shut them out, do anything to make them be quiet.” Kate hesitated, pulling her hands away and tucking them under her arms. “Sometimes it’s better just to give in, sometimes fighting only causes more pain…”
Nikolai looked at her in concern. The thought of having a serious chat with this guide had occurred to him but now was not the time. Maybe after everything with the Council was over, since for the moment he had far more pressing concerns. But this gave him a starting point.
"I understand that. Mine take the form of a Cardassian tailor who loves intrigue and deception, though. What about you? What do yours tell you?"
Kate looked torn; on one hand she wanted to tell someone but on the other she didn’t know if she dared. Galen and Jack already looked at her like she was insane, and she didn’t know, maybe she was. Was it normal to feel the way she did? To say the things she did? The truth was Kate didn’t know anymore. Sometimes she felt like she was herself, like things were how they always were; then at other times she was conscious that she’d done or said something that was slightly off, not quite on the line. Of course there were even OTHER times when she was aware that she’d been completely irrational and downright strange.
Everything was just so confusing.
“Sometimes…” she began hesitantly, “they are kind and gentle. They tell me what to do to keep going, to make things better, but other times,” she shook her head in dismay, “they’re cruel, hurtful, they say things… repeat things that just make me want to-”
Kate quickly rose from the sofa, pacing agitatedly while scratching at her wrists. “They’re not just voices, sometimes… sometimes they have form… they’re real Koyla. I can touch them. That’s not right is it?” she asked turning to him, her eyes pleading for answers. “It’s not right, it’s not right…” she repeated, shaking her head from side to side.
Nikolai stood to put his hands gently on her arms and steady her, well aware that he could identify with her. Noting the marks disappearing on her wrists and her distress, he could guess what happened. A new wave of guilt overcame him. "I wish I knew what to say," he started, before trying to smile comfortingly.
"However, as I've been learning, the world is a very strange place and there's little we can do about it. I don't think you're crazy, Kate, but... do you think someone could be doing this to you?"
Or something, he thought. He wondered idly if it were possible for an object to actually affect a telepath in this way, and if so, why she hadn't had it happen to her before. "A curse, a spell? I don't know..."
Kate shook her head again, “A curse? My whole life has been a curse… I love things and they die Koyla, they die… or they leave me. My mother…” Kate’s voice trembled with emotion, “my lovers… my children… it all ends the same way.” She pushed Nikolai aside shakily, “You should be careful, you get too close and you might be next… you might be next…”
The distress was evident, and her worry clear. Kate really believed that she was a walking deathtrap. "I do not know what to tell you, except that I am here for you and will do whatever I can to help you." For once, he was completely at a loss for words. How were you supposed to console someone with that outlook on life?
“There’s nothing you can do,” said Kate steadily, “There’s nothing any of you can do. It’s the Powers That Be… they’re the ones, rulers of destiny, casting the die of fate… They do these things to us to put us in our place. But not anymore,” said Kate with determination, “No more. I’m taking back what belongs to me.”
Her determination felt strong, and Nikolai guessed that this could be the thing causing her distress. "You're planning something," he said simply, noting the look of surprise on her face. He sighed, knowing that this could be the very key to helping her, but that she obviously didn't want anyone to know. "If you tell me, I promise not to tell Galen or Jack," he said.
“The easiest way to keep a secret is without help,” Kate retorted as she slumped back down onto the sofa with a sigh. “What do you care anyway Koyla?” she said after a moment, fixing the man with a cool, calculating stare. “You… have… everything you’ve ever wanted… connections…” she smiled knowingly, “family. Tell me, how does Alicia like your newly acquired status?”
Kate looked away ponderously, “It strikes me as odd. You have your new life, Tash has her army, Daye has found a way to capitalise on her magic… You know, I heard she was doing very well for herself, but then she always was a canny business woman, even if she is dealing in rather more questionable goods than cupcakes and coffee nowadays. But, you know? No one really seems to be much happier. Strange, don’t you think?”
Nikolai's voice suddenly turned without emotion for a moment as he spoke. "I'm just a simple businessman, Katya. All I've ever been is a businessman." Still, he sighed. How did she know? And what would Alicia think if she ever found out? Hi, honey, I'm a made man now and whack people and steal! Oh, but don't you worry. We only kill each other.
"But you are right, I don't think that many people do seem much happier. I at least... this is the only life that I've ever been able to lead..."
Kate cast a rueful glance at Nikolai, “Or maybe the only one you’ve ever tried to lead. Though maybe you’re right, maybe the path you’re on is your destiny, and you have to see it through to the end. Whenever that might be.”
"Have you been seeing images of a Cardassian tailor as well?" Nikolai stopped for a moment, half-expecting to see Garak show up now. Still he sighed. "I'm still waiting for one of you to tell me how I would find another one. Assassination training isn't exactly a marketable skill."
Kate shrugged, “I’m not your conscience Koyla, you have to find that yourself. We all have to live with the decisions we make.” Kate looked away again, staring into that hazy distance. “Though I think we’re getting a little waylaid. Isn’t this the part where you call me a whore and storm out? I’d really like to stick to convention if I can, I really hate change.”
"Well... I thought I'd break with convention," Nikolai replied steadily. He still wanted to do something for her, and thought that it was possible at least that he could help out. "I can understand why it happened, and there's no sense getting upset about it, is there? Besides, it's not your fault the man is an asshole willing to take advantage of you. Your only crime was trying to find comfort." *How's that for breaking convention?* he thought, hoping that he hadn't said the wrong thing.
“I thought I’d make some tea while I was-” Galen suddenly stopped as he sensed the tension in the room. He glanced at Nikolai and then at Kate who wore a sullen expression to rival any teen. Galen slowly set the tray on the coffee table. “I hope I didn’t interrupt something?”
“Damn pharmacist…” mumbled Jack as he walked in the front door, “Had me waiting ages just because some dumb jerk had parked in his loading bay.” He looked up to see the awkward trio all staring at him silently. “Well, I got the prescription. How are you, Kate?”
Kate looked at all three men in turn before returning her focus on her fidgeting hands again. “I’m fine, just a little tired.”
“Well maybe you should have an early night,” said Galen quietly. He couldn’t help but think that he’d just walked in on something important. “Jack, can you take Kate upstairs while I see Nikolai out?”
Jack nodded, feeling more than a little irked that Galen had seemingly taken charge of the situation since his return, despite him being the main cause - as far as they were aware - for Kate’s condition. Still, he did seem to have the power to subdue her, and he had to make sure that Kate’s welfare came first over any petty concerns.
“What- no,” protested Kate as Jack moved to guide her upstairs, “I don’t want to go, no… don’t…”
Galen watched as Jack ushered Kate towards the stairs despite her relentless complaints. Quietly he turned to Nikolai, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with this,” he admitted suddenly. “She’s my wife… I just hate to see her like this. So confused and irrational… I don’t suppose she told you anything, did she?”
Nikolai considered carefully all of the things that Kate had said. Still he could feel her annoyance at being manhandled and wondered if trying to control all of her actions now would leave Kate in a worse state than before. The only useful thing was that Kate planned to do something, but he didn't know what. That would likely send Galen to a more controlling end.
At the end of the day, Nikolai said the only thing he could think of. "Not really," he said. "She's trying to sort things out in her mind, I think. Just be patient with her, and don't try to control every little move she makes. That's about the only thing I can think of."
“I don’t want to control her life,” said Galen, his voice fatigued and uncertain, “I just want to make sure that she doesn’t do something-” he faltered and sighed, sitting down before he collapsed. It had been one hell of a day. “The truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing any more, I just want her well again.”
Nikolai nodded, it was a very understandable feeling. Kate needed space, but she also wasn't thinking right and if his conjecture was right she may very well try to take her own life again.
"Only time heals the wounds that cut to the soul," Nikolai said, both cryptically and unexpectedly. He looked as surprised as Galen that he had said it. "Let her know you're there for her, though, that you love her. Be her husband, Galen." *Oops,* he thought, wondering if that last went too far.
“I’m trying,” said Galen honestly, “I’d do anything for her, I know I’ve been stupid in the past but, well I want to try and put all that behind us now. For her.” Galen sighed again. “Thanks for coming by though, I don’t know if it made any difference, but after what happened with Tash… well it’s just nice to know there are people who care. I know Kate isn’t herself, she says things which I know she doesn’t mean, it’s almost like she’s testing us or trying to purposefully push us away. I don’t know, I just want her to be herself again.”
The Great Escape
16 April 2007 – 9:14pm
Galen walked up the stairs wearily, his legs feeling like lead as he forced one foot in front of the other. He was exhausted; Nikolai had left about thirty minutes ago and since then Galen had tried to straighten things up a bit downstairs, though he still wasn’t sure how he was going to get rid of all those symbols on the wallpaper short of redecorating.
Kate had been upstairs for over an hour and yet he could still hear her moving around, Jack trying his best to reason with her over whatever it was he was trying to convince her to do. Tiredly he opened the bedroom door.
“Come on Kate, you know what Dr Wallis said, these pills will help you relax, make you feel better. You want to feel better don’t you?”
“I don’t want to take them! I don’t need them!” asserted Kate, her back pressed against the wall, her eyes wide with an almost feral quality. As Galen entered the room she called out his name and ran over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her head against his chest.
Galen held on to her firmly, exchanging worried glances with Jack and indicating that he would take over from here. Jack nodded, deliberately leaving the jar of pills on the dresser before he left the two of them alone.
As the door closed, Galen carefully led Kate over to the bed and sat her down, but Kate wouldn’t let him go and when he tried to go fetch her night clothes she wrapped her arms tightly around his legs, pressing the side of her face into his abdomen.
“Don’t…” she said fearfully, “Don’t leave me.”
Galen took her hands in his and knelt down on the floor in front of her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, brushing his fingers against her cheek comfortingly. “But I think we should get you ready for bed, you really do need some rest… okay?”
Kate looked at him for a while before slowly nodding. “Okay.”
Galen smiled and rose to his feet, walking over to a set of drawers and sorting through the neat piles of clothing until he found something suitable. He pulled out a long nightdress of powder pink linen, it was pretty and had pleasant connotations since he had bought it for her in a boutique in Las Vegas during their honeymoon. Smiling, he returned to where Kate sat, laying the garment on the bed beside her.
He sat next to her, carefully unbuttoning her cardigan as Kate watched him. Galen swallowed uneasily as his fingers brushed against her breasts, fumbling with the buttons like an inexperienced teenager. It was terribly frustrating. He could feel Kate’s eyes on him and, though he was no empath, he could keenly sense her sexual desire – a feeling he longed to reciprocate more than anything right now.
In fact it was probably the first time he had ever had to curb that urge. He really wished he hadn’t made such a big deal about vetoing all sexual contact while he was trying to help her get better – still he knew it was the right thing to do. Kate was unstable and reintroducing sex into their relationship might not be an entirely wise thing to do at this point. Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking about it, especially when they were alone like this.
Finally he pushed the article from her shoulders and, removing the rest of her clothes, helped pull the nightdress over her head. “There,” he said finally, drawing back the bedsheets and watching as Kate snuggled down between them. “I should probably go then. Oh, wait!”
Galen moved over to the dresser and picked up the jar of pills, tipping one out into his hand. “I almost forgot…”
Kate frowned awkwardly, “I really don’t want to,” she said in apprehension, sitting up and pulling the sheets close under her chin. “I mean I feel better now, I do. I don’t need them.”
“It won’t hurt you,” promised Galen gently, bringing over a glass of water to the side of the bed. “It’ll just help you get a good night’s sleep, help you to relax…” He tenderly brushed back her hair from her face. “It’ll make you feel better, I promise.”
Kate looked doubtful but she took the pill anyway, placing it in her mouth before taking a sip of water and swallowing.
“Good girl, you rest now,” soothed Galen quietly, turning out the light as he moved over to the door. “I’ll check in on you later.”
Kate waited until Galen’s back was turned to remove the pill from under her tongue, palming it quickly before he turned back. “Galen!” Kate called out hastily, biting her lower lip tentatively. “…I’m scared.”
Galen’s expression softened and he closed the door again and walked back to the bed. “What do you have to be afraid of?”
“Being alone,” said Kate simply. “Can you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?”
“Sure…” said Galen with a slight smile as he pulled up a chair near the side of the bed.
“No…” said Kate, running her hand over the empty expanse of bed by her side, “I want you to lay with me… hold me, please? Like we used to?”
Galen looked unsure, but he nodded in agreement, pulling off his shoes as he lay on top of the blankets by her side. Kate snuggled up to him, wrapping her arms about his body and nestling her head against his torso.
“Hmmm, this is nice,” she sighed sleepily, “This feels really good.”
Galen gazed at Kate as she lay in his arms, her eyes closed and her lips curled into a contented smile. “It does.”
Kate opened her eyes as Galen wrapped his arms around her gently and she smiled sadly, looking up into his face. “I thought I’d be alone again tonight… I never imagined I’d have both you and Jack with me.” She looked away into the distance, “You’re back… and Jack’s back… soon all our family will be reunited and things can return to how they once were.”
Galen frowned in confusion, his eyes fluttering open as he looked down into the hopeful face of his wife. “What do you mean?”
Kate’s eyes glowed in the dark, highlighted only by the pale trickle of moonlight that filtered in through the thin window voiles. “Oh Galen, everything is going to be okay,” she slowly moved her hand to stroke the side of his forehead lovingly. “I’m going to make everything all better again.”
Galen winced a little as Kate’s hand spread out to grip the entire side of his head from his temple to the back of his neck, her grip tightening somewhat and impressing a listless sensation upon him that seemed to wash throughout his entire body. “Kate… what are you doing?” he asked drowsily, unable to resist her.
“Shhh,” soothed Kate gently as her fingers pressed harder into the sensitive areas of his scalp and neck. “Sleep… and tomorrow, things will be different, I promise.”
Kate increased her grip and concentrated hard, focusing her energies onto Galen until he slumped against her in a deep sleep. Kate cradled the back of his head against her shoulder, wrapping an arm around his back and carefully rolled him over to lie on his back.
She stroked her fingers through his hair attentively, letting them move down and across his cheeks. Slowly she leaned in and lay a soft kiss upon his lips, sighing as she felt his breath play across her mouth.
“Sleep easy, my love,” she cooed gently before slipping from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.
****
Kate returned about thirty minutes later, her hair looking a little more voluminous than before and almost shiny too. She’d applied a small amount of make-up to her face, some blush to her cheeks and lip gloss in a delicate rose colour that made her complexion a little less deathly than before.
She smoothed out the ebony silk of her dress, looking at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty, at a glance anyway; it would be enough, hopefully, to impress her seriousness onto this Marcus Dalton. She knew him only by reputation; he was rich, handsome, powerful – every woman’s ‘dream man’. It just so happened that his power was gained through necromancy, the very perversion of everything that Kate believed in. Still, she needed him now, that was all that mattered.
Kate cast a glance at her husband who still lay where she had left him, his breathing shallower now as he snoozed peacefully. Kate smiled, walking over to the dresser and dropping the pill she had palmed into a trinket box before removing a pretty, diamond pendant and clasping it around her neck. She looked into the mirror again.
Okay, so she didn’t exactly look stunning - months of neglect and a poor appetite had wasted her figure away, endowing her with a profile that many catwalk models no doubt spent a fortune trying to obtain. Still, she looked passable, like she had made an effort at any rate. Kate swept her hair back from her face then let it fall back, the thick waves obscuring her slightly gaunt and hollow features. She’d half considered conjuring up a glamour but decided against it. Tonight was not a time to let vanity obscure what was important.
Carefully she opened the door and peered out; she could hear Jack downstairs, making phone calls again. Quietly she closed the door, looking around the room when her eyes fell upon the window, the curtains fluttering in the slight breeze. She was about to head in that direction when she suddenly glanced at the dark emerald wool of her coat as it hung on the back of the door. For some reason she couldn’t help but stare at it, as though remembering something important that she was supposed to do.
It was a relative warm night outside and surely she wouldn’t need a coat… but then she would have to walk a few blocks before she got to a place where she could hail a cab. Picking up the coat, Kate was suddenly reminded of a moment… vague and dark like a scene from a play or a movie. Pulling the light wool around her shoulders, Kate had the sudden urge to put her hand into the left-hand pocket and when she did her fingers closed around a small, hard object. Slowly she pulled it out.
“This is your currency,” said Carmichael firmly, watching the girl as she lay barely conscious in her bed while Dr Gemmel attended to her. He raised the small piece of bone between two fingers with a marked expression of glee in his eyes.
“You will need this when you pay our Mr Dalton a visit. Do not be deceived by its commonplace appearance, it is much more powerful than it looks. It should be enough of an enticement for you to be able to strike a bargain with the man.”
Aimes swiftly held up the twisted circlet of bone before depositing it into the left coat pocket. “Which leads me to my other point…” he continued, walking over to the bedside and sitting on the space at her side. “You must make an effort to impress Marcus Dalton, he is a man accustomed to the finer things in life - the most expensive hotels, the most luxurious fine wines… the most beautiful women… You must do your very best to look part of that world. No one will take a scrawny, tear streaked woman seriously-”
“Leave her alone,” growled Gemmel protectively as he fitted up another IV, rubbing the girl’s hand gently. “She’s not well enough to take all this in, she’s still very ill.” He turned to Kate and carefully stroked a wave of scarlet hair from her eyes. She was barely sensible of her surroundings and had been drifting in and out of consciousness all evening. Her severely dehydrated and malnourished state had finally gotten the better of her he guessed, not to mention everything else. He knew Dragomir had been performing his role as the reanimated spirit of the woman’s dead husband come back to torture her to acclaim. Surely he would win an Oscar at this rate.
He gently stroked the woman’s forehead attentively, her eyes moving slowly to half-focus on him. “I’ll take care of you…” he whispered softly.
“Oh, how touching!” cawed Carmichael, throwing his hands up in the air. “You really have gone soft over her haven’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” spat Gemmel defensively, “but she’s my patient, it’s my responsibility to take care of her health. Right now she needs rest, not a lecture. You can run through the plan again in the morning, but for now, leave her be…”
“Ta Ekteinon Osteon,” whispered Kate softly as she felt the hard shape in her pocket and took it out, walking over to the window and lifting it up into the moonlight to have a look at it.
So this was the infamous Ta Ekteinon Osteon. It looked quite beautiful in its simplicity; the pale white piece of bone wasn’t much larger than a bottle cap but smooth and flawlessly carved by hand into the shape of a Möbius strip. Taking a moment longer to admire the object she quickly replaced it into her pocket.
Giving a passing glance at the quietly sleeping form of her husband, Kate returned her focus to the window and pulled up the sash as silently as possible.
Kate threw the pair of shoes out of the window and paused, looking back at Galen to see if he had heard the soft thud of the chunky heels hitting the ground. When nothing happened she climbed up into the window, crouching beneath the sash as she balanced on the window frame before cautiously reaching one of her legs out to rest on the low tree branch just beneath the window.
Feeling the rough bark beneath her bare skin Kate shuffled her foot across the branch before reaching out her other foot. She carefully let the branch take her weight before she swung herself fully out of the window.
The wind gently rustled the leaves and Kate paused, balanced perfectly on the tree branch, the ebony silk of her dress fluttering in the breeze as she moved. She swung down to one of the lower boughs and then dropped to the ground, the delicate hem of her dress tearing slightly as it caught on a broken branch during her descent.
Kate stayed crouched on the ground, pulling the thin wool coat more firmly around her body as she stayed ever alert to the activity within the house. Keeping her eyes on the kitchen window she felt around for where her shoes had landed. Her fingers eventually touched the familiar shapes and she scooped them up, hastily pulling them onto her feet before running off into the darkness of the night.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, April 17th, 2007
9:40 PM
The younger of the two boys sneered in disgust, as he walked over the comatose body of one of the crack addicts. It really was a wretched hole Vince had brought them to, but after what had happened, it was a necessity. James, Vince’s vampire dad, had no doubt survived the fall from their penthouse and would probably be looking for blood. As a result, the boys had to flee the luxury of their abode and seek temporary refuge in this dump.
“I’m not staying here,” Cole snapped, as another poor soul, stumbled by him. “This is disgusting, and I, er… we deserve better!”
“Well I’m sure Darian’s door would be waiting wide open for you buddy, so if you’re not happy, you can go there,” Vince retorted immediately – he was in no mood for Cole’s attitude.
Cole considered the thought for a moment, but quickly dismissed it; no, he couldn’t see Darian, not until he fully understood how to use…
“Get off me you rat!” Cole shouted, being drawn from his thoughts as a junky reached out from a corner, pitifully grabbing onto his ankle as if it were some anchor to reality.
“THAT’S IT! Vince, let’s go!”
Vince’s patience was wearing thin; Cole was becoming just too much. “You can go Cole, but I’m not leaving this place until I know it’s safe.”
Cole snickered at his friend, “I can’t believe you are scared of a mere vampire.”
That was the final straw – Vince snapped.
“James isn’t any stupid run of the mill vampire. James has fucking taken out more than you could even dream about and I’m not supposed to be scared? Do you actually think I can get the jump on him twice because I’m with some two bit fucking spell caster?”
Cole’s eyes turned ice cold. “Two bit spell caster? So is that what you think of me? You better watch what you say Vince, because this conversation isn’t going to bring you anywhere good.”
Vince smirked. “Watch what I say , watch what I say?! You’re some little megalomaniac bastard who thinks he can control the whole world because he has magic. You are nothing and Skippy proved that without even thinking about it.”
A small chuckle fell from Cole’s lips. “Did he now? Well then, why is it his beaten ass that’s lying in some hospital somewhere? I’ll tell you why.”
A second later, a blast of black magic flew forth from Cole’s hands, causing Vince to slam hard against the rickety walls of the building. “BECAUSE I’M BETTER THAN HE WAS. I’m more powerful than your fucking demon friend, I’m more powerful than your god forsaken vampire father, and I sure as hell am more powerful than you!”
He raised his hand to cast another spell, but Vince was ready. With nothing but a thought he sent Cole flying in the opposite direction, crashing into the wall just as he had done a second before.
A manic grin spread across Vince’s face as he pulled out a gun and opened fire at his now ex-friend. “Yeah, that’s why he had you wrapped up in those tendrils and was crushing the life out of you until I saved your ass you little fuck.”
Cole lunched himself behind an old fridge and listened as the bullets bounced off the metal.
Vince tossed the empty gun to the floor and looked around for his hand device. *Shit, I left it at home.* Instead, he settled for picking up a used syringe and walked towards Cole. “I’m going to rip you a new one.”
Cole waved his hand, enchanting the fridge to soar at the other boy. “Shut up!!”
The older kid reacted quickly, using his telekinesis to block the flying chunk of metal, but while doing so he left himself open for another attack. Cole wasted no time, calling out the name of Ares, as he pointed towards his enemy. A spear of energy seemed to generate from his hand, finally erupting free, crashing painfully into Vince’s gut.
Vince stumbled back several feet, tripping over a dirty couch, luckily landing on some cushions. He could feel the rage building up inside him and the building corresponded with his rage, beginning to shake violently, causing roof tiles to fall to the floor. Vincent got back to his feet and sent the junky needle flying into Cole’s stomach. He smirked as a circle of blood began to stain unto the mage’s shirt.
“Too bad I missed your artery, eh?”
“Screw you!” Cole screamed, through the tears that were welling in his eyes. Pushing through the pain, Cole conjured ball after ball of fire which he hurled mercilessly, trying to immolate the other boy. Beads of sweat rushed down the telepath’s face as he concentrated with all his might to deflect the relentless assault. All the while, neither noticed the damage they were causing to the building. The combined force of the magic and telekinesis was too much strain for the shoddy crack house to take. The falling tiles began to accumulate, and a second later the entire roof fell around them.
Kyle rounded the corner, and as soon as he saw the building crumble, he knew he was in the right place. Vince’s directions had been… sketchy to say the least, and not helped by the usual difficulties of a cell conversation. A cell which old ‘JT’ had bought him with all of his money.
Spoiled brat.
But, though the directions were rough, a collapsing building was a good signal. And if there were two people who could collapse a building that Kyle knew of, it would be Vincent and Cole.
Inside the rubble, a bloody body dragged itself from under a mound of fallen bricks. Forcing himself to his feet, the boy dusted himself, grimacing in pain as he felt a sharp throbbing coming from his leg. *Shit,* Cole thought to himself, pulling out a jagged piece of debris that had lodged itself in his thigh.
But what of the other? Stumbling forward, he started to rummage through the wreckage, looking for his adversary… his friend.
It shouldn’t have gone this far.
A moment later, lifting up a large sheet of plaster, and tile, he finally found what he had been looking for. “Oh God,” he gasped, bringing his hands to his mouth in shock, and horror.
Vincent’s body laid there motionless, a razor sharp pole protruding from his stomach.
“Oh god oh god oh god,” Cole mumbled, as he checked his friend’s body for a pulse. He drew back in terror when he realized that there was none – Vincent was dead.
Kyle stopped some distance away from the rubble. He could see Vincent’s limp form. He had seen enough corpses in his time. He knew Vincent was dead.
“Cole-” Kyle began, but then his voice faltered. This was why he didn’t let people get close. “Cole, we gotta get out of here.”
“Kyle?” Cole turned, seeing his other friend rush over to him. The world spun around the boy, as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. *What have I done?* Cole opened his mouth to explain what had happened, but nothing came out. He couldn’t remember how to speak. *I’m going to be sick.*
“Alessa… she’ll know what to do,” he whispered mindlessly, as he conjured a floating ball of light. “Th, th, the light will bring us to Alessa.”
A moment later, Cole’s shivering body collapsed, the mix of blood loss and trauma proving itself too much for him to handle.
Burying whatever emotion was rising in him, Kyle grabbed Cole and hoisted him onto his shoulders, then set off away from the wreckage and the sound of approaching police cars. There would be time to figure this out, but now was not it.
Striking a Bargain
Monday, 16 April 2007 – 10:56pm - The Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel
Kate fidgeted anxiously while she lingered in the lobby of the Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel. Suddenly she was glad she had taken the time to smarten herself up some beforehand. Her surroundings were as opulent and luxurious as the people that milled around amongst them. She half wondered why a powerful man such as Marcus Dalton should want to immerse himself amongst such superficial wealth but then, he was probably accustomed to it and even necromancers had to have a place to sleep.
Kate could feel the Ta Ekteinon Osteon in her coat pocket and drew the thin material close around her body as she sauntered over to the reception desk, her dark eyes casting a wary glance at the few people that lingered close by.
“I need to speak with Mr Dalton,” she announced quietly yet firmly to the concierge. “I know that he’s staying here. My name is Catherine Eldridge, he doesn’t know who I am but I have something of his that he will be quite anxious to obtain.” She forced an amicable smile from her lips as she gazed at the man opposite the counter. “If you could just call his room for me?”
The man gave a slight sniff as he took in the woman’s appearance. It was quite plain for the surroundings and though the woman could have been beautiful her pinched and careworn face made her merely attractive.
He hesitated, despite the out of place clothes Miss Eldridge had spoken with a quiet authority. Mr Dalton had left no specific instructions he wasn’t to be disturbed and Miss Eldridge knew he was here. Making a decision, he picked up the phone and rang, not Mr Dalton’s suite but instead his assistant - Miss Black.
The shrill ring of her suite’s telephone broke through Onyx’s meditation in mere moments. Sitting in a circle of candles she gazed at the offending object, somewhat irritated. Letting the irritation fade as essentially useless she answered the phone in her usual calm manner.
The concierge had done the correct thing. As far as she knew none of Marcus’ property was in LA yet. It was still waiting to be shipped once the purchase of Marcus’ new home was completed. Nevertheless it would be best if she spoke to this Miss Eldridge in person if only to impress on her that further attempts to contact Marcus would be unwelcome.
“I’ll be right down.”
“Mr Dalton’s assistant, Miss Black, will be down to meet you shortly,” informed the concierge with a smile that could curdle milk. His cordial manner was quite obviously false and it was evident that he wished her as far away from his hotel as possible.
“Well thank you,” replied Kate with an equal air of barely concealed irritation. She wanted the organ grinder, not the monkey, and now she would have to put up with another series of empty pleasantries and veiled double-talk in order to secure an audience with the man himself.
Deciding that whatever she had to say to Mr Dalton’s assistant would be better done in private she walked over to the hotel bar with a glance at the concierge with a slight nod to let him know where she would be. If this Miss Black was like any other kind of ‘assistant’ she would no doubt keep her waiting just for the sake of it.
Sitting down in one of the plush chairs, Kate felt the Ta Ekteinon Osteon in her pocket again. This time she curled her hand around it, tracing the smooth contours with her fingers. She half wanted to release it from the darkness of her pocket, to hold it up to the light as she had done earlier just to see what it might look like in this secluded, almost golden interior. Instead she settled for holding it tightly in her hand as her eyes silently observed a noisy group of revellers over at the bar.
*Leave,* she willed quietly as she continued to concentrate on the small crowd, *Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave. Leave.*
As the partygoers decided to move on, Kate hunched her shoulders, drawing into herself uncomfortably. “Thank you for seeing me so quickly Miss Black,” she said quietly before turning her head to look at the woman who had just arrived.
*Well now, things just got a little more interesting,* Onyx thought as she felt Miss Eldridge’s expenditure of power. Onyx let her senses range over the woman - a witch of considerable power it seemed and one who, unlike the rather unstable Amanda Blaise, hadn’t been dabbling in things she shouldn’t.
Hiding her surprise at Catherine’s sudden greeting behind a smile while wondering if her probe had been detected, Onyx replied cordially. “Not at all Miss Eldridge…” Onyx hesitated as a sense of cold power swept out from the witch. “You spoke of property to the concierge,” Onyx’s eye dropped to the pocket from which she sensed the power, “but I doubt here is the best place to discuss it. Why don’t you come up to my suite and we can discuss it?”
Kate eyed the woman with a slight air of suspicion. There was something… not entirely human about her, but then a necromancer wasn’t an everyday sort of person either and if Marcus Dalton was as powerful as people said he was he probably required a special kind of ‘assistant’.
*Pft, yeah assistant,* thought Kate as she dropped her gaze from the woman. She was beautiful and exuded a subtle demeanour of power and confidence that made Kate feel even more plain and inept than usual. She doubted very much that this woman merely made the coffee and did the photocopying.
Subconsciously she fiddled with her hair, twisting a strand around her finger, barely able to raise her eyes to meet the intense gaze of Miss Black. “This is a matter for your superior, Mr Dalton. I will only speak with him,” she intoned firmly with much more authority than she actually felt.
“I can assure you, Marcus trusts me implicitly. Anything you wish to say to him you can say to me.” Onyx paused and smiled. “Still if you insist on speaking with him personally then I’ll pass the message along. Unfortunately he’s quite busy at the moment and I can’t promise when he would have time.”
“I’d think he could make the time,” answered Kate coolly, but she rose to her feet nevertheless, “especially when it’s business related. I don’t mind talking to his aide, but what I want is something you definitely cannot supply me with.”
“Sit down, Miss Eldridge.” Onyx’s voice held all the leashed power of a nuclear reactor and seemed just as dangerous. “It is after eleven o’clock at night. I’m not going to interrupt Marcus for trivialities. Now you can tell me what it is you want and I’ll decide if your suit warrants such an intrusion or you can leave. In which case I may make a passing reference to an impatient witch with a ‘business proposal’. Considering how I will present it in that case he will no doubt dismiss it out of hand.”
“In that case,” said Kate in retaliation, her own voice hard and unyielding though it failed to match the severity of her opponent, “you may tell your dear Marcus that I desire his assistance in bringing my daughter back from the dead. In exchange for his help I am willing to give him this…”
Kate finally withdrew the Ta Ekteinon Osteon from her pocket and held it up for Miss Black to inspect though she managed to keep it safely out of her reach. The piece of bone appeared to glitter in the dusky light, appearing slightly less impressive than it had in the moonlight but beautiful nonetheless.
“It is Ta Ekteinon Osteon, very rare. I have it on good authority that Mr Dalton would be quite interested.” Kate shrugged, playing a good game of looking unperturbed, “But then, maybe you’re right. It is late and you wouldn’t want to interrupt your boss’s beauty sleep over something so trivial.”
“What sort of assistance? Since I have to say even for Ta Ekteinon Osteon he is unlikely to be willing to reach across the Great Divide.”
“That I can do on my own,” said Kate with a sombre sense of acceptance filling her words, “I need him to help me locate her soul on the other side. That shouldn’t be too taxing from what I hear of his abilities. Would that price be more to his liking?”
“I cannot say for certain but it is in the appropriate range I’m sure. Leave me a phone number and I’ll speak to Marcus in the morning. If he’s willing to help I’ll contact you.”
Kate felt so angry and frustrated she could barely control herself. “I can’t DO that,” she insisted through gritted teeth. *Leave a goddamn phone number? This is necromancy not booking a bloody hair appointment!* “I have to see him,” she asserted, punctuating her words with the swing of her index finger, “and I have to see him right NOW.”
The vehemence in Kate’s words was so strong it seemed to send ripples of energy surging through the room and the lights flickered angrily, buzzing slightly in response to the disturbance. Kate looked around in embarrassment as she cooled her temper quickly.
“I understand your position but this is urgent, I can’t wait. Maybe you could speak to him now and let him know just how impatient a witch I am.”
*What is it with witches in this city? They're all so... so erratic.* Onyx glanced around. Miss Eldridge's earlier magic had cleared out the area effectively but the barkeep was looking at the pair of them curiously. Onyx met the man's eyes with her own and exerted her power. Feeling the man’s will relax she ‘suggested’ he forget her companion’s little display.
“Urgent or not, if you cannot control you power better than that I suggest you leave now. Necromancy is not to be dabbled in by rank amateurs and right now you are suggesting you are nothing but a foolish girl with more power than sense,” Onyx hissed.
Maintaining an icy glare the demon thought for a moment. This witch seemed undisciplined but Onyx didn’t sense the same lack of control she had in the Blaise woman. If Miss Eldridge could be taught to control herself…
“Very well Miss Eldridge. We will go see Mr Dalton.”
Kate felt herself settle at Miss Black’s words and inside felt her earlier frustration ease some. Still, she was too worked up to offer any other response than a simple nod of her head as she followed in the woman’s wake.
If only Miss Black knew what this meant to her, if she only knew how much it had taken for her just to get this far. But it had to be done, in her heart she knew that to be true. It was the only way, the only way to get back all that she had lost. Emma’s death had changed everything; had shattered her marriage, had reduced her to this numb, pathetic wreck in which she could hardly function.
When she had Emma back everything else would fall into place – she was terrifyingly confident of that fact. She and Galen could go back to loving one another as they had done, they could forget everything that had happened to drive them apart… and they would have their baby back where she belonged.
On the silent elevator ride Kate finally turned to the demoness though her face was blank and devoid of emotion. “Thank you,” she mumbled quietly before returning her focus on the elevator doors.
Onyx barely acknowledged the witch’s whispered words, instead waiting until the elevator doors opened then led her to a large set of double doors.
“Wait here.”
Onyx stepped inside and the low murmur of voices could be heard for a moment before the demon returned. “He’ll see you, his office is on the right.” Then without a further word Onyx departed back to her own rooms and her interrupted meditation.
Marcus’ office was dominated by the large desk. The soft golden glow of the room’s only illumination - an Orb of Thessula - cast shadows through the whole room and left Marcus, who was leaning against the leading edge of the desk, in near total darkness.
“Onyx tells me you want me to help you raise your child from the dead.”
“That’s right,” said Kate tentatively as she walked further into the office of Marcus Dalton, feeling that dark aura of power emanating from the imposing figure by the desk. She tried her best not to feel afraid. Fear was a weakness she couldn’t afford to expose, especially not to a man such as this, but the weight of importance that this meeting held for her…It was all that mattered, bringing Emma back was all that mattered.
“I’ve heard very much about you,” she ventured, trying to get a better glimpse of the man shrouded in darkness, his profile only slightly illuminated by the Orb of Thessula. “I know you can help me and I am, of course, willing to compensate you.”
Marcus let the silence drag on as he perused this woman. Onyx had already mentioned the artefact, Ta Ekteinon Osteon, and it was a tempting offer but raising the dead was a dangerous business, all the more so if you wanted to do it correctly.
“Resurrection involves difficult and dangerous rituals. Even when enacted with sufficient precision they invoke very steep costs. Is your daughter important enough to you to pay prices of that magnitude?”
Kate’s expression softened in desperation, “She means everything to me,” she said resolutely. “I don’t care about the consequences and I have nothing of any worth left to lose. I’m willing to do anything to bring my daughter back, there’s no price too high.”
"Even a loved one's life?"
Kate looked wary, “What do you mean?”
“Drawing a soul across the Great Divide requires the intercessation of otherworldly beings. The beings with both the power and inclination to assist such an endeavour are capricious at best and profoundly evil at worst. In the past they have demanded the death of another for their gift of power. Indeed they have demanded a life of equal value to the supplicant.”
Marcus paused allowing that information to sink in. “Do you still want to attempt this?”
Kate could feel herself trembling at that revelation but resisted the urge to just collapse where she stood. She had come this far and, and they had promised her, this was the way, the ONLY way to get her life back. “I…” she hesitated, her voice shaky and uncertain, “I-I’ve never killed anyone before.”
Marcus glanced at the orb then returned his gaze to Miss Eldridge. “Careful selection of the powers involved may avoid that necessity though if such powers do demand a life they will take it and in such a way that you will know you’re responsible. On the other hand if you are willing to bloody your hands then there are other beings who are more than willing to deal in souls and their reach is very long.”
Marcus looked at Miss Eldridge’s stricken face and carefully suppressed a smile. “The subject is very complex I’m afraid and really, looking for a specialist is probably the best thing you could have done. For the artefact I’ll provide you with guidance and appropriate assistance and training, however I will not perform the actual ritual.”
Kate repressed a shudder, but what else did she expect? This wasn’t a simple conjuring or pulling a glamour, resurrection was serious magic only to be entered into by those with the strength and comprehension to suffer the consequences. The sacrifice worried her though, after losing so many people that she loved could she really take the risk that it might happen again? But if it was successful… if she could bring Emma back, hold her in her arms again, see her smile, look into her beautiful eyes – it was worth it, it would be worth it.
Holding out the small piece of ancient bone – Ta Ekteinon Osteon – in the palm of her hand, Kate offered it to Marcus. “Then this belongs to you.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 17th April 2007
10:00pm
Vincent De La Rocha was dead, but he was not alone.
He looked at the figure who had appeared out of nowhere. The light seemed to dissipate as it neared the creature’s black skin; his flesh wasn’t black so much it was sheer nothingness.
“Who the hell are you?”
“You will find that I am one of the ascended, young Vincent.”
Vinecent turned his full attention on the creature which claimed to be an ascended. *What ever the hell one of those are.* “Who and what the fuck are you, and why the hell can you talk?”
The creature had no mouth, yet Vincent could hear the words clearly in his head. “Vincent, my dear boy, you are bright. You should be able to figure it out.”
Vince thought for a second then it came to him. “You’re psychic. You are speaking right into my mind.”
The creature began to clap its clawed hands in a show of sarcasm. “Bravo, young one. Bravo, indeed.”
Vincent’s patience would be wearing thin at this point, but for some reason he didn’t feel anything. “What do you want with me, Mr…?”
“Zhyzhak… Zhyzhak will do for the moment, and what I want is for you to become like me, my young friend. I wish for you to become an ascended one.”
Vincent looked at the asceneded one Zhyzhak. “What, you want me to become all dark and monster like?”
Zhyzhak chuckled, the sound of his laughter echoing through Vince’s metaphorical skull like a jack hammer. “My boy, we are all very different. Each ascended one’s form is varied.”
Zhyzhak waved his hand and the entire space around Vincent was transformed. He was no longer standing in the rubble of the building, but now he was standing amidst a field of poppies.
“How the hell did you do that!?”
Zhyzhak waved his hand and the scene changed again. They were no longer in a field of poppies but in the middle of a battle field. Vincent watched the scene as solders rushed past him and were mown down with machinegun fire, he watched as the solders screamed voiceless calls of agony and despair.
He turned to look at Zhyzhak. “Take me away, take me away from this now!”
Zhyzhak nodded and the battle field cleared and they where standing back among the rubble again.
“What do you want from me, Zhyzhak? Tell me!”
Zhyzhak frowned, “I want you to join me, I want you to become an ascended one. You will have power equal to my own, but it is not your time just yet, young one.”
Vince began to growl. He was getting really pissed off. “Join you to do what? You are promising me all this power, but am fucking dead. What use would I be?”
Zhyzhak would have smirked if he could. “Vincent, to become an ascended you must first fulfil your power in life, which I will grant you once more…”
Vincent’s face lit up with a smile. “You mean you will bring me back to life?”
Zhyzhak nodded, “Yes, but to do this you must first accept to become like me, like I was in life. A reaper of souls.”
Vincent smirked, “Wow that’s a cliché if I ever heard one.”
Zhyzhak laughed, “I didn’t come up with the name, my boy, but it is what they are called.”
Zhyzhak put an arm around Vincent’s shoulder as he led him towards his body. If someone was there to watch Vincent and Zhyzhak have their little psychic conversation, the observer would have noticed that the two seemed to strike up a deal before the spirit of Vincent disappeared from sight and his body sharply jerked upright in one fluid motion.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
April 17th
Longwood Co.
LA offices
10:30 am
Mike ran a hand through his shortly cropped hair and skimmed through two pages of medical terminology. The reports on Ellis’ exams had just arrived and he had called Dr. Sloshein to his office to try to understand them. With a sigh he arrived to a section that almost made sense to his layman's eyes.
The report went on and on trying to find some explanation for his friend’s symptoms. Mike raised his eyes from the folders and looked at the nervous doctor in front of him. Closing the folder with too much force he spoke to him.
“Can you explain this to me, doctor. I’m not an MD, you know?”
The doctor cleared his throat and started talking.
“This could be an example of the Klüver-Bucy Limbic System Syndrome. The memory alterations, hypersexuality and decreased anger control are most likely the result of amygdala disorders. Damage to the hippocampus underlies the memory deficits, and olfactory association areas of the temporal cortex underlie the parosmia…”
“Doctor Sloshein! Please, can you speak in English?”
The young doctor blushed under the implacable eyes of the older man. He had been hired because he was one of the most brilliant research professionals in his field, but outside the laboratory he found himself not so capable.
“I’m sorry Mr. Coulter. I’ll try to be more clear. Are you aware of what is called the 'Limbic System'?”
“Enlighten me, doctor,” answered Mike, with patience.
Dr. Sloshein walked towards Coulter’s desk and took the folder from his hands; browsing quickly he found a big color printed tomographic image of Ellis’ brain. He took the film and turned on the lamp on the desk, putting the film just beneath the cone of light for the man to see. He pointed to a small red colored portion of the scan, near the base of the brain.
“Around this area of the brain, here, lies the limbic system. Considering its size - about that of a walnut - it is power-packed with functions, all of which are critical for human behavior and survival. From an evolutionary standpoint, this is an older part of the mammalian brain that enabled animals to experience and express emotions and frees them of the more instinctive responses.”
He rose his eyes to the black man and, assured that he was following him, he went on. “In humans, evolution also gave us the capacity for problem solving, planning, organization and rational thought. Yet, in order for these functions to occur one must have passion, emotion and desire to make it happen. The limbic system adds the emotional spice, if you will, in both positive and negative ways.”
“And you say this is what’s dysfunctional in my friend?”
Dr. Sloshein pointed to another part of the tomography film. “This here is the amygdala. It is a part of limbic system. Probably the site of emotional experience. Its function is to attach effect to experience, including memory.”
“Memory?” Mike thought about Ellis’ short term memory disorders, and the fact that his demon lover was suffering from amnesia. Too weird to be coincidence, maybe?
“Memory, indeed, Mr. Coulter. In all Mr. Longwood’s scans and imagings the amygdala is shown increased in size. An increased amygdala shows an excess of limbic activity.”
“And that is bad, I guess,” Mike said, trying to make sense of the colorful patches in the brain scan, and failing miserably.
The doctor just nodded.
“In particular, such limbic structure as the amygdala is involved in enhancement of pleasure, mating behavior, fear, sadness, affection, and happiness; aggression, and moral inhibitions. When the limbic system is less active there is generally a positive, more hopeful state of mind. When it is heated up, or overactive, negativity can take over. When the amygdala is inflamed, painful emotional shading is the consequence, resulting in a more animalistic behaviour regarding all those aspects of the patient's life.”
“What about his increased sexual drive or this … parosmicia?” the older man asked, searching for the strange term in the pages of the folder.
“Parosmia. It means that he perceives scents or smells that aren’t there,” the doctor explained, “and yes, the limbic system directly processes the sense of smell. If the system is inflamed, it may produce ‘olfactory hallucinations’. He perceived a sulphur scent in his skin. Of course, nobody else could smell it. And as for sexual responsiveness it is a clear indication of a limbic overdrive. Of course if we take into account his hypothalamus-”
“Enough!” Mike said, and stopped the doctor before he started giving him another explanation on brain functions.
“What I want to know now are two things,” he pointed his fingers, “Why did this happen? And how do we cure him?”
The blond doctor ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “As for the why, I have to tell you that I don’t know. These kinds of disorders are usually associated with brain tumors, but Mr. Longwood’s scans show no indication of such. I’m afraid the cause of this is not of physical nature.”
He looked at the other man, cleared his throat and went on. “It is my opinion that the causes may be… mystical in nature.”
Mike just nodded. He had been afraid of just that and he could see the effort the young doctor was making to say the words. Scientists were usually at odds with the supernatural side of nature.
“And about the cure… well, there is no cure that I know of. We could use some drugs like classical tricyclic antidepressants, like Norpramin or Fluoxetine to control his anger respons-” He stopped when Mike Coulter raised his hand.
“You are talking Prozac there, doctor?” he asked coldly and the doctor blushed, nodding.
Mike rose from behind the desk and shook the doctor’s hand. “I believe you did all you could, doctor. If the dysfunction is mystical in origin we’ll find a mystical cure to it. Thank you.”
[/]Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** Tuesday, April 17th 4pm ***
Longwood Estates - Oz's Apartment
Oz tuned the beat-up guitar some more. It had been a while but as he strummed a chord or two he could hear it was a close as the $15 pawn-shop instrument would ever get. He played a few chords and his fingers remembered the days when he and Margaret and Frank would sit on the back porch and sing with each other.
Remembering Frank and seeing his war-ravaged face on Christmas Eve mad Oz's throat close and he had to sniffle. A song he had heard a while back came to mind and he played the first few bars of the melody.
Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?
Oz's voice was choked with memory but he finished playing the song and was about to plunk a few more chords of a happier tune when he heard a sound outside the garage apartment door. Setting the guitar aside, he walked to the door and peeked through the curtained window. He could see Alessa on the other side. *I guess it has come time to lay my life on the table - again,* he thought before opening the door before she could knock.I must be strong and carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong
here in heaven.
Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven?
I'll find my way through night and day,
'Cause I know I just can't stay
here in heaven.
Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees.
Time can break your heart, have you begging please,
begging please.
Beyond the door there's peace I'm sure,
And I know there'll be no more
tears in heaven.
Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven?
I must be strong and carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong
here in heaven.
Alessa jumped when Oz opened the door and blushed; she had just gotten home and had been about to knock when Oz’s melodious voice had reached her from inside his apartment and just had to stay there to listen to him. He had been singing with such sentiment that she wondered again what his story was.
Blushing furiously, she reminded herself that it was precisely because of that that she was there. She hated invading the man’s privacy, but she was just tired of listening to Ellis’ suspicions about her employee.
She had stayed in the city at noon to have lunch with him, and he had talked about Oz yet again. She had walked out of the restaurant in fury after an argument, but as it usually happened she had cooled down soon enough. However, she knew Ellis was right about something; she had to talk to Oz. It was inevitable.
“Good afternoon, Oz. Do you mind if I come in?”
"No problem, Alessa. Come in. I knew you would come around sooner or later." Oz held the door and waved to the interior of the small but cosy apartment. Oz had managed to procure some worn but serviceable furniture which was plenty comfortable.
Oz indicated an easy chair, "Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? I have coffee, bottled water, or beer."
Alessa smiled at him and sat down. “A cup of coffee would be perfect, thanks.” She looked at him as he fumbled in the kitchenette and went on, “I’m sure you know why I’m here. However, before we start talking I want you to know that I appreciate the work you’ve been doing around here. I don’t regret hiring you and I won't fire you unless you tell me you ‘did’ kill all those people.”
She looked down at her hands, blushed again, and hurried to go on. “Which is rather silly because if you really had killed them you wouldn’t tell me. Call me naïve, but for some reason I just know you won't lie to me.”
Oz sat down and handed her a mug of warm coffee that didn't match the one in his other hand. "No, I won't lie, but I have to tell you that the court has me under a gag order to not discuss my trial. I want you to know the truth, but I won't violate the conditions of my release either." *Because it might get back to Ellis.*
Oz looked into the blackness of the brew in his hands. He took a deep breath and looked back into those colorful eyes of Alessa's. "I didn't kill them. I wasn't found guilty of their murder nor was I found innocent. I stated to the press that I was 'responsible' but that isn't the whole story either. None of those people would have died if I had not been there that day."
Oz could sense that his explanation was incomplete, and he cursed the judge who had been so close-minded that he had placed the gag order on Oz. It made Oz appear guiltier than he was. "It is hard to tell the story without breaking the law, but if I don't then people think I am a murderer," Oz shrugged in frustration.
Alessa looked at him, he seemed frustrated and she could understand it. “Well, if it eases your mind, I don’t think you are a murderer and even if I’d have liked to know some more, I won't press you. What you told me is enough for me.” She sighed and took a sip at her coffee; it was strong and she almost choked. “However, I can see that happening. Humans aren’t the most tolerant beings.”
She wondered if she should tell him the truth about herself, maybe he wouldn’t want to work with her anymore. Oz hadn't showed knowledge on the supernatural side of the world yet and she didn’t know if she should tell him, but his words about ‘responsibility’ had touched her.
There were some risks inherent in working for a demon, Morris being one of them. The vampire had kind of disappeared during the last few months but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back. She bit her lip and decided it was time she were honest with him too.
Alessa forced another sip down her throat before talking. “There’s something else I wanted to talk you about. Do you have any idea how I came to own this house?”
Oz cocked his head sideways, "No, I just assumed you either bought it from Ellis or he gave it to you. 'Longwood Estates' wasn't hard to connect to Ellis Longwood. And you two are very close."
Alessa blushed again. That made her sound like a ‘kept woman’, all right. She didn’t like him thinking of her like that, but could understand his line of thought. “Well, actually, it wasn’t him who gave me the house but his fathe-”
She stopped when she noticed that that didn’t improve the situation. Damn, now he would think she had been passed from father to son! She looked at his serious eyes and wondered how to explain herself. “Maldita sea, Oz, this isn’t what I meant...”
Oz started, “Don’t worry, Alessa. You don’t have to explain to me about your life, I’m not the one to judge you. Seems we both have difficult pasts.”
“NO!” she stopped him, “I mean, yes, Ellis and I are close, to say the least. And his father was my best friend, but we weren’t lovers, and he didn’t give me the house because of that. Ellis’s father was part of an important organization that studied and researched the… supernatural. He left me the house in his will because he thought I could use his library to help another organization I used to be part of. Ellis and I being together - that happened later.”
Oz snorted, "Most studies of the 'supernatural' are studies in the symbolism of our psychology. A professor of metaphysics I knew used a Joseph Campbell book on literature as his teaching notes. If people really knew what sort of forces were out there they would never leave their homes."
Oz trailed off; he realized he was starting to sound like a zealot and that tended to unnerve people, but as he looked into Alessa's face she was nodding and her eyes showed that she knew - really knew - what he was talking about.
There was a long pause. "I was a..." Oz started but Alessa said, "I am a..." at the same time. They chucked together.
"You first," said Oz.
She studied him a second, and set her cold coffee in the table. “I’m a demon,” she spurted - no anaesthesia, no warning. “Now, if you want to run, feel free.”
Oz laughed loudly, "Seems I am on the wrong team. I was an angel. And while you may not be human, boss, 'demon' is only a label like 'murderer' or 'mistress'. I'll keep it under my hat if you keep my 'secret origin' private."
Alessa’s face broke into a big smile. “An angel? Like in the Bible, with wings and all?” She felt amazed by this news. Alessa had never really believed in God, but here he was, perfectly serious, telling her of his origin, and somehow she didn’t doubt him.
Oz nodded. "There are a lot of conditions on that too. And it is former angel. I'm all human now. Albeit a very healthy one, it seems. I have outlived both my wife and my son. While I can't tell you about the case, I can tell you that the events on Christmas came about because I used my knowledge as an angel to affect the future. Had I ignored my ego, things would have turned out... better."
Oz collected the cup of coffee and mimed a second cup. At her polite refusal he refilled his own and sat back down. "Wow, this went far differently than I imagined it would," Oz said with amazement.
Alessa leaned back on the chair, relaxing for the first time since she had got there. “Indeed,” she said and watched him drink his coffee, “However, I wanted to tell you about my ‘not-so-humanness’ because there is the possibility that my origins follow me here.” She bit her lip at his enquiring stare. “I have some… enemies, to say the least, and they may start coming to visit me. I just want you to know, because I won't fault you if you want to leave.”
Oz waved a hand, "No, I'm staying. I have no problem with trouble. You can't hide from it or escape it. It's only when I go seeking it out that it comes back to bite me in the ass. If your enemies come looking, I'll hold the fort. I may be human but I am not defenceless."
Oz set down the coffee. He had been spending the last month and most of his spare cash to recover his vehicle and possessions from the tow yard. Fortunately it had not been a police lockup, otherwise they might have found his most prized possession in the trunk. He pulled out the sword from its space under his mattress. "This is in your service, boss. All you need to do is ask."
Alessa whistled admiringly at the fine weapon. She had not lived beside a Watcher for so many years for nothing, and she could recognise the quality of the workmanship and that he held the sword with confidence.
“That is good to know, Oz. In that case, I can stand up for you too. To Ellis, or anyone else who comes after you."
[/]Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, April 17th 2007
11:05 pm
The ‘big house’
The alarm awoke her. Sluggishly she hit the night table trying to find the alarm clock and turn it off, but after several attempts her sleepy mind registered that it wasn’t that. The alarm kept on sounding. Sitting in her bed, she looked beside her but she was alone. Ellis had left for the airport a couple of hours ago, he had gone to Bangladesh or Baghdad or something like that. She reached for the lamp switch and turned it on, still confused. *What is that?*
Cursing she jumped out of the bed and left her bedroom. She was barefoot and the cold marble floor made her shiver. She descended the stairs and walked to the kitchen, from where the sound seemed to be coming. Alessa had to see that the television screens of the security system were on, showing the approach of Ellis’ black truck, to understand that the sound was that of an alarm indeed. She wasn’t used to have state of the art alarm systems, in fact she was starting to hate them just then.
“Maldita alarma!” she cried, furious, “Don’t you see he’s coming back?”
*Ellis must’ve lost his plane,* she mused, but then something caught her attention so she got closer to the screen. There was a ball of light suspended just in front of the truck, as if guiding it, and it disappeared when the vehicle got to the house. The driver wasn’t Ellis either, it looked like a teenager.
“Damn!” she said again, and walked to open the door.
Kyle looked up at the big house in time to see the ball of light Cole had created dissipate. It didn’t do so subtly, instead kind of just fizzing out with a spark or two. Which meant one of two things; they were there and Cole’s failing strength meant he was losing control over his magic, or they weren’t there yet, and Cole’s failing strength meant he was losing control over his magic. Wherever there was.
In either case, Cole’s failing strength probably wasn’t a good thing.
Neither, for that matter, was Vincent’s death.
But he, no, Cole would have to deal with that later. When he wasn’t unconscious.
Kyle opened the door on the back of the truck, stolen naturally, and hauled the kid onto his shoulder. He was out cold, looked pale, and was sweating.
Not good at all. And if this wasn’t the right place…
Beginning to shrug, then stopping after he remembered Cole was on his shoulder, Kyle started up towards the front door. If they were there, all was good. If not… it wasn’t like they had anywhere else to go. That didn’t bother Kyle in the slightest, but Cole needed a roof over his head in this state.
*Thank God it’s Donny’s day off, she would have freaked out with all this.* With that thought, Alessa took a look through the peephole of the door. She wasn’t about to get paranoid because some light balls, but she wasn’t stupid either. *They surely aren’t Mary and Joseph coming to Bethlehem,* she joked to herself. Then she saw that, whoever he was, the teen was carrying an unconscious person on his shoulder.
She hurried to unlock the big double doors then, and stared at the person on the other side. He was older than she had thought. He looked about twenty years old and had a look of defiance in his face. His clothes had fresh bloodstains on them. Alessa didn’t say a word and rushed to help him with his burden.
“Cole!” she cried, when she recognized the teen. “How come-?” she started to ask and then just shook her head. “Come on in. Let’s put him on the couch.”
Kyle headed over to the plush couch, dropping Cole down onto it slowly. He tried not to gape, but couldn’t help looking round at the huge mansion, the polished surfaces… He could dimly remember living like this, having a house like this. It seemed so long ago…
Then Kyle snapped back to the present. It would do no good to live in the past. That was long ago, and gone for good.
“I’m not sure what happened,” he said to the woman - undoubtedly the owner of the house - which was more or less true, at the same time appreciating the woman’s curves under her revealing nightgown. *Damn. Rich and sexy. Cole certainly has interesting friends. Wouldn’t say no to THAT.*
“I think… I think there may have been a fight. A big one. And then a building collapsed…” Kyle shook his head. “Like I said; no idea.”
A slight groan fell from Cole’s lips as the shooting pain from his stomach finally crept its way back into his body, awaking him from the comatose state.
*Shit,* he cursed, as he felt the blood flowing from where Vince had stabbed him with the needle. If he could only concentrate, he could use his magic, but… the pain… *God it hurts.*
The young boy struggled to open his eyes but his body wouldn’t comply, not yet anyway. The sense of vertigo and shock were still in control, preventing him from doing little more than stir. Still, he could hear the faint sound of voices.
Kyle had done it, he had brought him somewhere safe. But where were they going again? Cole’s mind raced, trying to think back to before he collapsed. *Where did I tell him to bring m..? Alessa’s!* he finally remembered triumphantly. Things would be ok now that they were here, Alessa would make sure of that.
Alessa heard Cole’s groan and cursed again. She opened the kid’s shirt and discovered he was bruised and bleeding from a deep cut in his belly. She touched the spot and Cole jumped, even in his semi-consciousness.
“How do you get yourself in these situations, kid?” she asked to no one in particular. Gently she took off his shirt and tried to get him as comfortable as she could. “I’m getting some clean water to wash this, and some bandages, but I don’t know about internal injuries…”
She raised her eyes and found the other boy - *man, his eyes aren’t those of a kid* - staring nervously at her. She gave him a shaky smile and stood up, heading to the kitchen. “Come with me, you look as if you could use some help too.”
“No,” Kyle said with firmness in his voice. “I don’t need help. Cole does.” He wanted to get that straight with her, with the world if necessary. He didn’t need any help.
Alessa just raised an eyebrow at his harsh response. She pursed her lips and nodded, there was pain there, but she wasn’t going to press him about it. Not when she didn’t even know him.
“Ok, but I wasn’t offering you salvation, you know? Only a cup of coffee.”
In a more conciliatory tone she added, “My name is Alessa, by the way, and you are…?”
After the man gave her his name, she nodded and went on. “Well, Kyle, I will help your friend, not as a favor to you, mind, but because he’s my friend too.” She smiled, trying to take the sting out of her words, “Maybe you’ll be able to help me, though.”
She was already fumbling through her bottles, taking some alcohol and bandages. Without looking at Kyle she returned to the living room, where she started to clean up and bandage Cole. When she finished, and the kid was resting more comfortably, she asked Kyle to carry him to a bedroom.
She could have managed with his light burden alone, but Kyle seemed like he needed something to do, in spite of his denial.
“You are staying too, aren’t you?” she asked Kyle after they finished tucking Cole in bed. “I’ll keep him company till the morning. But there are plenty of rooms here for you to stay, if you want.” She tried not to make it sound as if she were offering help - *God forbid* - but she didn’t want to send this young man alone into the night, not if he was a friend of Cole’s.
Kyle paused a moment. He could sense Alessa’s desire to talk to him, to want to find out about his “problems”, which was something he didn’t want to go into with anyone, let alone her. But Cole knew and seemed to trust her, and at least he’d be spending the night with a roof over his head.
“Okay,” he answered at length. “But only till Cole’s better.” Then he thought of something else. “Got any vodka?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, April 18th 2007
12:40 am
There he was, a boy barely old enough to have a driver’s license, waking from a night most teens could never even imagine going through. Not only had he managed to collapse a building, but he had been stabbed with a dirty druggie’s needle. But none of that compared to what had happened next; all of that was nothing when weighed against the murdering of a friend.
*Was it a dream?* he hoped briefly, while his brain was still swimming in the ‘between’ of sleep and awake. Of course reality, as always, managed to eventually take precedence over its favourable counterpart, and once it did Cole had to accept the fact that it had happened.
“Jesus Christ,” he said, replaying the events in his mind; the image of Vince stuck on the pole being the focal point. “What did I do?”
Alessa woke up with a start. She was confused for a moment and then realized that Cole’s voice had woken her. She had fallen asleep on the plush couch she had arranged besides the bed, and straightened immediately. Leaning over the teen, her hand flew to test his temperature and her eyes scanned his face anxiously. He didn’t seem awake, but she was sure he had talked.
The moment her hand touched his hot skin the kid’s eyes fluttered open, and the anguish she saw there made her heart flinch.
“Oh, Cole, what’s happened to you?” she whispered.
“Alessa?” Seeing his surroundings only added to the confusion: *This isnt' Alessa’s apartment.* But if not, where was he? It didn’t take long however, before the pieces started to come back to him.
Kyle, Kyle had found him, followed the magic ball, and brought him here. He was safe here.
“I… I…” he choked, trying to explain what had happened. But how could he explain? How would he justify what he had done? If he told her, she would be horrified, he would be horrifying.
“Oh God Alessa, I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he said lamely, leaning his head back into the overly comfy pillow.
“Shh, Cole. You don’t have to talk now. I’m sorry, I… just don’t talk. You are safe here,” Alessa said, soothing him.
She couldn’t stand the look of sheer desperation in her friend’s eyes. She knew the boy had been missing, Darian had called asking for him some weeks ago. Fortunately it had been Inés who talked to him, or she would have jumped on him for losing yet another of her loved ones. She suppressed her anger at Darian; there were more important things to deal with at the moment.
*Like lowering your fever, boy,* she said to herself. His temperature was very high and he was sweating. She discovered his abdomen and saw with concern that the skin surrounding the wound was hot, swollen and an angry red.
“Damn, Cole. This goes beyond my possibilities, I should take you to a hospital…”
He shook his head, brushing away her concern, “No, I’ll be fine. I can heal myself with magic way faster than any of those doctors could ever hope to,” he said, smiling weakly.
The smile only lasted but a moment before fading, as his mind once again projected Vince’s bloody corpse in front of his eyes. This time, however, it didn’t inspire as much guilt and regret as it had only a second before - guilt and regret were not luxuries the Hyde virus permitted.
“Vincent went crazy last night,” Cole said flatly, catching Alessa off guard by the sudden change of topic. “He came after me, and during the fight the building we were in collapsed. He didn’t survive,” he ended emotionlessly. Cole looked up, studying Alessa’s face. *Would she be horrified?* What he had done was in self-defence, it wasn’t really his fault.
Alessa just stared at him, implications of what he said getting into her.
Cole and Vincent fighting? Vince dying because of it? But they had been friends… *And you were friends with Darian, and Tash… things change.* She was sorry about Vincent, he had been ok, but she was glad Cole had survived if she had to choose. Problem was, Vincent had been James’ ‘son’ and James wasn’t somebody she would like to have as an enemy. Her mind worked furiously trying to solve the problem.
“Anybody else knows about this?” she asked, surprising Cole.
“Kyle, that’s it.” Noticing the look of apprehension that spread over Alessa, Cole could guess what was going through her head. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t be telling James what happened, the kid hates vampires as much as anyone I’ve met. Plus, he’s a friend and we can trust him. He did bring me here, didn’t he?” he added, seeing that she wasn’t totally convinced.
“Well… if you say so… and yes, your angry friend brought you here. He’s sleeping somewhere in the house, gotta convince him to stay too. He didn’t want anything to do with me, apart from checking me out, that is.” She winked at Cole’s worried expression. “Don’t worry, I can handle him.”
Then she got serious again. “But you guessed me right, let’s pray James doesn’t learn about your part in Vincent’s death. He wouldn’t be easy to deal with…”
She would have to lie to James, and wasn’t happy about the idea. *Not telling is not the same as lying,* she said, trying to convince herself, but failing. She did consider James a friend, but Cole was first in her heart. She would protect him against the vampire, if she had to; she wouldn’t go losing anybody else.
“If it comes to that, I’ll deal with him,” the teen replied, a little too quickly, as if trying to convince himself as much as Alessa. He could take James... couldn’t he? Maybe not now, but soon, soon he would have the power to stop anyone that got in his way. “So, where exactly are we?” he asked, finally taking full notice of the opulent décor he was surrounded by. This place looks like the Queen’s palace.”
“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Alessa smiled brightly, proud of her new home. “It’s my new house.” Cole’s disbelieving stare made her laugh.
“Yes, all mine, and I didn’t have to marry an old millionaire to get it!” she sobered up, remembering Ernie with a pang of guilt. *Ok, bad joke,* she reprimanded herself. “Ernie, my Watcher friend. He left it to me in his will, that’s why I went to England, remember?” It seemed so long ago.
“After everything that’s happened, you deserve this.”
Alessa brightened, as her hand gently brushed through Cole’s golden hair. “I’ll give you the grand tour once you’re up to it, but now, I think you should just get some rest and concentrate on doing some of that magical healing you were boasting about earlier.”
“I’ll be good as new by the end of the day, I promise,” Cole replied.
Alessa smiled softly as she withdrew her hand and walked to the doorway, preparing to give the boy some privacy to rest.
“Just remember, the quicker you’re better, the faster I can show you the huge pool I have waiting.” With a wink, she switched off the lights and closed the door behind her.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 18th April 2007 – 11:30am
Sir Ambrose Delancre paced in his study, irked that he had been unable to coerce the information from Natasha the previous evening as to exactly who it was she was bringing to see him this morning. Logic dictated that it should be the Reanna Kossinton woman, since she was the only one who still remained more or less at Natasha’s side since the splintering of the White Hats. But logic was never guaranteed. There was a possibility that it was Jeet Su My, since he had recently recovered from his coma, and there was also a possibility that Alicenoko’s mysterious absence had ended.
It was this last that disturbed and delighted him the most. Over the years his rage had subsided somewhat at Gabriel Espinoza’s inability to secure the purple demoness. But his avarice continued unabated. If Natasha really was bringing Alicenoko to him, to his very den, then she would have succeeded where his best men had failed. Alicenoko was unique on the Earth and he’d traced her career back for several hundred years – a magnificent warrior, he wanted her DNA to boost the gene stocks of his demon hybrids. And if she could be convinced to stay, she would make a superb general for his army.
But all this was only conjecture. He had no idea who was coming today. And logic dictated that it would be Ms Kossinton. A fearsome fighter, of course, but when all was said and done she was merely human and not nearly so attractive a prize.
*****
Tash parked her bike at the head of the long driveway, Alice stopping just beside her on her own motorbike. They dismounted and Tash gestured at the grand entranceway. “Well, here it is. Gaudy, isn’t it?”
Alice looked around, ignoring the lawn and the purity of the white paint. She was looking for the hidden security cameras and alarms. “It’s a bit white,” she said as she put her helmet on the seat of her bike. Alice went up next to Tash as they walked up the steps onto the porch. “I wonder if he remembers me.”
Tash chuckled, “You’re pretty memorable, even when you’re not purple. Let’s find out, shall we?”
She reached the door and nodded to the guards standing just inside. “We’re expected,” she said as she strode down the hall past the marble busts and oil paintings that decorated it. Soon they were at the entrance to Delancre’s study, and the demon outside rapped gently upon the door. Delancre’s rich baritone sounded from within and the servitor bowed to Tash and Alice as he opened the door to admit them.
“Morning,” Tash greeted Delancre as she stepped into the room, “I believe you might already know my guest here.”
Ignoring the insolent familiarity he’d come to expect from Natasha, Delancre hid both his joy and his consternation at seeing Alice. Alicenoko was an unpredictable demon, and he wasn’t sure that eight years was long enough for her to have calmed down. The face he displayed was warm and charming, however, as he extended a hand to the new arrival.
“Only by reputation. Charmed to make your acquaintance, my dear Alice,” he said smoothly.
Alice’s eyes seem to gleam as she stepped forward to meet Delancre’s hand with her own. “Oh. Please, my dear Ambrose. I’m sure you know me better than that.”
“Alas, no, we have never met,” Delancre responded. “Though I did once send you an invitation to visit which I’m certain you must have misconstrued, given your rather… harsh response. But, let’s let bygones be bygones. I’m just pleased that Natasha here has reopened a door I thought closed.”
Tash nodded to herself as she watched the exchange. There, she was right. Delancre’s words rang completely true, and so it had been Alice who’d got the wrong impression. She shot a reassuring smile Alice’s way, but her friend’s eyes were fixed on Delancre.
As Alice softly withdrew her hand she smiled. “I’m sure the mistake was mine. However, the messenger was a little overzealous with his invite.” She took a seat next to Tash across from Delancre’s desk.
“Tash was telling me before about your campaign.” Alice paused to read any reaction on Delancre’s face but there was no change from his smiling demeanour. “Against the vampires.”
“Quite, quite,” Delancre said, “Well, I’d be more than happy to show you around the facilities here. I’m sure Natasha has told you of our more proactive approach to the problems of evil in the world than the Watchers’ Council is more commonly known for. We have been slowly developing a cadre of dedicated warriors who patrol with or without the Slayer to bring down the vampire populations.”
He dropped his head, a look of concern crossing his face. “I was shocked and dismayed when the previous Council administration refused to send aid to those of you here who fought against the Brotherhood, and I have made it my business to come to Los Angeles to offer assistance – although woefully belated – with the aftermath. The destruction and scattering of the Brotherhood has left a power vacuum amongst the vampire population and we are no more keen than you are to see a powerful underworld element develop here.”
He gestured to the window, though it was impossible to see more than an expanse of blue sky from where they sat. “Out there is my rebuttal of the old Council ways. No longer will we indiscriminately hunt down demons. Our task is to root out those who would commit evil, who would conspire to enslave humanity. As a means to that end I have worked to recruit the most powerful warriors and so as you will soon see that includes many demon fighters. I have never understood some of my esteemed colleagues’ perception that all demons are evil, and have undertaken to remove that attitude from the Council.”
Leaning across the desk, his expression grew entreating. “I was so pleased to learn of your involvement with the White Hats, since your reputation is so impressive. I would be delighted if you would deign to tour the grounds here, and even more so should you choose to add your expertise to ours in the fight against evil.”
On the other side of the desk, Tash reached out and squeezed Alice’s hand beneath the table. “See? It’s just as I told you. Wait until you see their training area.”
Alice smiled at her friend. “Yes dear, it does sound wonderful.”
Alice’s eyes moved over Delancre like a warm breeze. She suddenly licked her lips as her eye met his again. “I’d love to see your training area.”
Tash stared in some surprise at Alice. Was that a come-on she’d just heard? The way Alice had said those words, however, didn’t really match her aura. If anything, Tash had the sense of caution from her – not arousal. Still, she let Alice play the game her own way. *After all, I’m not exactly playing this straight with Delancre either,* she thought.
A smile curved the corners of Ambrose’s mouth at Alice’s suggestion and he felt a sudden heat low in his belly. Oh yes, he’d love to train this one, but he suspected she would take quite a while to develop the subservience he expected from his demonic companions. First things first. Get her involved in the program, and most importantly, obtain a sample of her DNA. Then worry about breaking her spirit. Still, the fact that she had all but offered herself to him just now was encouraging, to say the least.
“Well, then, we shan’t disappoint you, Alice my dear,” he purred. “We shall tour the premises and I will introduce you to Ana, the Slayer.”
Rising smoothly he walked around the desk and offered his hand to Alice, helping her from her seat. Tash stood without assistance and smirked behind the pair as Delancre ushered Alice from the room, letting his hand linger just a trifle overlong on her shoulder as she passed through the doorway.
As Alice walk ahead of Delancre he could smell her perfume as it seemed to target his nose. Alice followed Tash, taking her cues from the woman’s movement. Tash led the group outside to what appeared to be an arena.
“It seems we have interrupted a class of some sort.” Alice looked at the young woman in the middle of six demons who were lying on their backs moaning in pain as a small group of others looked on.
“So you see from that demonstration, that if you-”
Ana broke off as she saw the trio approach, and bowed her head to Delancre. “My Lord.” Her eyes turned to Tash and her voice changed from warm to polite and cool. “Miss Brookes.”
Tash nodded frostily back, then Ana’s dark eyes settled on Alice next and one eyebrow lifted in interrogation. Behind her, the felled demons scrambled to their feet and sheepishly joined their comrades in hand-to-hand drills.
“Ana, my dear, let me introduce you to someone who I hope will soon be joining our little family,” Delancre said. “Ana, this is Alicenoko, a demoness warrior of unsurpassed ability. Alice, meet Anabella Graziani, the Vampire Slayer. And, may I say, one of the best the world has ever seen.”
Ana blushed modestly and held out a hand to Alice in greeting. “Sir Ambrose does sometimes exaggerate, but I’m pleased to meet you Miss Noko.”
Alice grinned at the young beauty, “Call me Alice, hon.” Taking Ana’s hand Alice began to gently increase the pressure of her grip, and continued the shake as she spoke, “Tash told me she went hunting with you. I bet that was something to see.”
Ana’s strengthen her grip considerably more but Alice’s smile and tone never wavered. “Tash is a very good hunter; I’m willing to bet she may have surprised even you.” Alice relented her grip first before any thing broke and to give her new friend confidence that Alice was “weaker” than the Slayer.
Ana smiled smugly as the demoness relaxed her grip – it had been strong, but not enough to give the Slayer serious pause. Glancing sideways at Tash before resting her eyes back on Alice, Ana said, “Oh yes, Natasha has proved to be a very adequate hunter, I must say.”
Tash’s smile was cold and fixed, but she refused to rise to Ana’s bait. She knew she only had to bide her time, play along until the moment was right. Then both the Slayer and Delancre would receive a shock. With Alice on the inside with her, that could be sooner than she’d originally hoped.
“So, Ana, how long have you been the Slayer, dear?”
“I received my glorious calling last September,” Ana replied proudly. “But I have been trained almost since birth to fulfil my destiny. Sir Ambrose has seen to my training personally.” She smiled broadly at Delancre, who smiled indulgently back.
“As you can see,” he said, gesturing to the grassy area where demons sparred, “Ana has become a fine leader. She has undertaken the practical training of all of these warriors. They fight like a well-oiled machine, and I have my Slayer to thank for it.” Not that months-long intensive brainwashing didn’t hurt to ensure the demons’ loyalty, he thought with amusement.
“I'm sure her training is detailed.” Alice looked over to the demons who had crawled back to their spots in the class. “They seem well disciplined; you have been training them well it appears.”
She walked over to the class. “It looks like they have been fixed, though. The poor bastards don’t seem to have a lot of fight left in them after the beating they seem to endure from the Slayer here. But then again I haven’t seen them in action.”
“I assure you,” Ana said haughtily, “that I do not overtax my troops during training. I was merely demonstrating a take-down technique.” She looked over to Delancre, who gave his permission to her unspoken question with a small nod.
Turning back to Alice, Ana gestured dramatically at her force. “If you don’t believe me, try them out for yourself. Pick one – or two, if you dare – and see just how much fight they have left. Who knows, if you live the Lord Delancre may even condescend to permit you to join their ranks.”
Alice took off her trench coat and removed her knife from her back sheath and handed both to Tash. “Don’t worry hon. This shouldn’t take long.” Alice smiled and walked over to the grassy area, saying to Ana, “It’s ok dear. I’ll take the same six you just had out.”
Alice centred herself between the demons, a big smile on her face. The group circled her like sharks then attacked together. Alice moved fast, dodging their advance. She quickly landed some very hard blows to each in turn. The ones who didn’t fall to the ground from the hits backed off just as fast as they advanced.
“At least they attacked together as a team. More often then not you will find that a group isn’t really a team.” As Alice continued talking the remaining four demons who were still conscious attacked to no avail. Alice moved faster then the half-breeds. She had fought these species so many times before and knew where to hit to take them out the fastest way she could.
At the end, Alice walked away from the fallen demons. “Forgive my presumption. They are very well trained after all.”
Tash held a hand up to her face to hide the grin she wore at seeing Ana’s dismay at each demon defeated by Alice. By the time Alice was done with the six, it was all Tash could do to stop herself from laughing outright at the Slayer’s glowering expression. For a moment she was distracted from eyeing Ana by a sudden feeling of lust, but it disappeared almost as soon as she had detected it, and she shrugged it off as an aberration.
Delancre fought to maintain his emotional shield as he felt his blood race while he watched the demoness at work. He’d heard stories, yes, but seeing her in the flesh was so much more exciting. *Later,* he admonished himself. Not a man to brook delay in satisfying his appetites, Delancre nevertheless knew when a slow approach was required. Besides, there was far more at stake here than his simple desires.
“Excellent work, my dear Alice. Truly astounding. Did I not say, Ana my precious, that Alicenoko was a warrior of unsurpassed talent?” Ignoring his Slayer’s barely civil ‘yes’ in reply, Delancre turned back to Alice and took her hand in his.
“Alice, you simply must agree to stay and impart some of your tremendous knowledge to our troops. It would make such a difference to our fighting force. I understand you were a White Hat, and so since we have made an alliance through Miss Brookes here it would seem unfair for you to withhold such divine skill.”
“Stay? Here? I do have a place in town. I won’t be far away.” Alice rested her hand on Delancre’s arm. “I would be happy to join my friend here and help out if I can.” Alice shot a wink and a smile to Ana as the three walked back to the main house.
Delancre laughed softly, “But of course. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to imply that you should remain permanently at the house. But I am glad you’ve agreed to stay on in a similar capacity to Natasha’s. Your expertise will be much appreciated by everyone here, I assure you. Though I am sure you can equally benefit from some of Ana’s training techniques. She is very thorough.”
His smile grew ever broader as he watched the three females – demon, human and Slayer – enter the house before him. Soon. Soon he would have that Alicenoko bitch, in more ways than one. It was just one more piece that had fallen perfectly into place for him. He saw Ana pause, glancing over her shoulder at him.
Quickening his stride he caught up to the three. “Now,” he said, turning the full force of his charisma on Alice, “let me show you the rest of the estate…”
Awakenings
Wednesday, 18 April 2007 – 4:30am
Galen was still sleeping soundly as Kate pulled herself back into the bedroom through the open window. This was the second night in a row that she’d managed to sneak out to keep her rendezvous with Marcus Dalton and the second night in a row that she’d returned with everyone being none the wiser.
Lifting herself up through the window and landing noiselessly on the hardwood floor, Kate stole herself over to the bed where her husband slept peacefully. She sat next to him, tucking her feet beneath her body while she watched him breathing, in and out… in and out…
Kate smiled and parted his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead and bending low to kiss him. She’d put Galen to sleep the same way she had that first time, with a force of will, impressing upon him a sense of tiredness, fatigue until he finally submitted. Of course she felt bad about using her magic on him in such a way, but she had to be sure that he didn’t wake in her absence, and Jack would never come into their room if he knew Galen was there with her.
Carefully Kate removed herself from the bed and padded over to the bathroom, undressing quietly and pulling her nightdress back on before returning to Galen. She snuggled back beneath the covers, burying her face against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. She and Marcus had covered much ground in the past two nights and she was exhausted.
But it would be worth it.
***9:30am***
Galen awoke to the sound of birds chirping in the trees. He frowned tiredly, his eyes slowly opening as he adjusted to the bright morning sunlight that flooded the room. His gaze was drawn to the open window, the thin voiles billowing gently in the breeze.
*That’s funny,* he thought for a moment, *I didn’t remember that being open last night…*
He suddenly looked down as Kate mumbled in her sleep, burying her face against his t-shirt in an attempt to block out the light that threatened to disrupt her slumber. Galen’s frown grew more puzzled as he tried to remember last night and what he was doing sleeping with Kate when he had convinced himself to keep some distance between them.
He ran a hand through his hair, scratching his forehead in confusion. He could remember coming in to check on her and make sure she took her pills, then… Galen sighed, his head hurt with the beginnings of a headache. He drew his fingers through Kate’s hair as she continued to sleep. She looked tired, thought Galen as he looked at her, almost like she hadn’t just spent the entire night sleeping at his side.
Wearily Kate opened her eyes to gaze up at her husband. “Galen? Is something wrong?”
“No… not wrong,” said Galen, though for some strange reason he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that something just wasn’t right with the entire situation. Shaking his head free of his confusion, Galen rubbed Kate’s cool arm gently in a bid to warm her some. “How about we go downstairs and I make some breakfast hmmm?”
Kate smiled cheerfully; for the first time in months it actually felt like things were returning to normal. “That would be perfect.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
1318 Poplar Avenue - Reah’s Apartment
Tuesday the 17th, April, 2007
17:59
Reah was a pig. She lived like an absolute pig. How anyone could live in such a state was beyond Quin, but it truly made her stomach churn at the fact that she had to live in that same filth because her flaming cousin couldn’t handle the basics of personal care!
And the things she did in her spare time! Sketching weapons, fixing weapons, making bloody weapons. Did the woman think of nothing else?
Picking up what looked like a regular heeled boot, Quin turned it over in her hands with utter contempt for the vile thing, jumping when a spike suddenly sprang out of its heel. She placed the weapon back on a nearby bench as though it were diseased. Her cousin’s obsession with weapons had only increased since Damen found his kicks elsewhere.
She remembered hearing the two the last time he’d come over, searching for forgiveness. Quin had stayed in her room the whole time, but had listened with piqued interest to the result of Damen’s betrayal conflicting with Reah’s raging temper.
It was disappointing in a way. They both suited each other to a ‘T’.
Quin had to keep herself from snorting. The fact that she was even related to Reanna was an insult. That they shared the same blood!
Clearly Reah’s mother’s had tainted their lineage. Quin would have thought that her Uncle Shane would have had better taste than some abbo whore from WA, but clearly the only taste their family ever had lay in her father. He married wisely; Quin herself was proof enough of that!
For the briefest moment, Quin felt a sudden rush of longing and guilt for running from her home like she had, but firmly pushed those feelings aside and raised her chin in defiance. She did love her family, but she was such a weakling under their protection, no, control from the outside world. What she did was necessary. She was right in her actions, and her life was her own.
Gazing over her current residence in distaste, however, Quin then turned her eyes up to the clock at let out a short sigh.
Reanna would be home soon for her training.
That woman was such a bitch.
The past month had been tiresome, to say the least. Dull. Her cousin’s unrelenting passion to needlessly have Quin suffer because she couldn’t handle her own pitiful life when something went wrong was just infuriating. And the fact that it was her lowlife scum of a fuck buddy cheating on her that was the main drive… Any normal woman would be rejoicing if they were finally rid of such slime!
Quin impassively watched the front door, awaiting her cousin’s arrival with an impeccable calm.
She would have run off along time ago if she could. But it seemed whatever she tried, Reah was always one step ahead. Which was ironic in the sense that she’d sooner given a buffoon more credit than her cousin. It would appear that Reanna wasn’t as dim-witted as Quin had originally thought.
She was only hungry for a brainless fight when there were clearly other, more appealing ways to get ahead in life. She really was just made for the killing. Though Quin couldn’t deny that Reah was exceptionally good at what she did, her purpose was just so hollow! And now more than ever, she was increasingly like a machine just running about its daily programmed schedule.
Whatever Reanna did outside of their ‘family time’, she could only guess.
Quin had to suppress a shudder. Someone of her upbringing deserved so much better. It was a crime that she should be kept here, caged and ruled by her lowly, freak of a cousin. It was just plain wrong!
She’d thought there’d been a brief spark of something with Cole for a while there, but then he’d run off and she’d heard just about as much of him as Reah had. And she was the one left to cop all Reah’s insecurities alone.
She did miss him a bit, still, but the least he could have done was taken her away with him. That’s what ate at her the most.
But at the same time, she couldn’t blame him. She despised living in this building with these people anymore. They were so common and… struggling! Always they seemed to be struggling for one reason or another. But of course there was that brute of a wall so conveniently barring her from leaving…
Reah.
Fortunately for Quin, however, she understood the value of patience and that just rewards always come with time.
That’s all it was a matter of, now.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 18th April 2007 – 6:10pm
1318 Poplar Avenue
The roar of the motor cycle woke Darian from the uncomfortable position he had fallen sleep in on the couch. That was how he got most of his rest these days; snippets of sleep here and there when his body could just go on no longer. Rising slowly, the fae stretched, yawned, and made his way slowly over to the window to see what had caused the noise. As he approached the glass, he caught a quick reflection of himself; haggard, unshaven and worn out, hardly the youthful Adonis-like visage he normally sported. The weeks had been taking their toll on him; Cole’s disappearance, the bizarre break up of the White Hats, Adriana’s harsh dumping of him…
Pushing those thoughts from his mind for a moment, he was pleased to see that the bike had been Tash’s. It was finally time he went to speak with her. With each passing day from that fateful White Hat meeting, he felt the friendship between he and the woman diminishing, and he couldn’t let it waste away. *Now is as good a time as any,* he thought as he made his way to the door and out into the hall. *Hell, she is never here anymore, so I better take the opportunity.*
Tash closed the door to her office in Poplar Avenue, having just returned from her day spent at Delancre’s mansion. She was pleased that Delancre had seemed to take to Alice so well and hoped that however he garnered such loyalty as the rest of the demons showed him, it wouldn’t be the case with Alice. Tash had ideas of her own, and having an extra person on the inside certainly couldn’t hurt. Running a hand over her short-cropped hair, Tash settled behind the desk with a sigh. The Foundation more or less took care of itself, but Tash liked to stay on top of the correspondence coming in, keeping a close eye on what the lawyers and accountants were doing with her money.
Remembering the returned cheque and letter from the Los Angeles County Hospital that she’d barely begun to read yesterday, she retrieved it from the floor and began to read it through. A furrow creased her brow as she read the letter once, then twice. Then she sat back and thought about the implications. Curiosity burned as to who had Cassy and Celia Dawson now and why, but more than that – she wondered whether Kate had ever tried a healing spell on Emma. While Emma was in the hospital. The same hospital that housed those twins. The twins who, when together, created an area in which no magic would work.
A slow smile crept onto her face.
A sudden knocking on the door made her drop the letter back on the desk hurriedly and she moved to open the door, expecting Alice or Reah. Her smile of welcome froze into a mask when she saw Darian there. They’d hardly said two words to each other since that awful meeting three weeks ago, and noticing the fae’s nervous aura she wondered whether he’d come to apologise or to completely sever his ties by moving out of Poplar.
“Darian,” she said flatly, nodding her head in greeting.
Darian shuffled his feet anxiously and began with, "I, er, tried your apartment but you weren’t there, so I’m sorry to disturb you while you are at work."
Feeling uncomfortable herself, Tash hesitated before inviting Darian in to sit on one of the couches in the office’s reception area – but she didn’t want to have this conversation out in the hallway. Once he sat, she settled herself on the arm of a chair and regarded him steadily.
“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Actually,” the fae started, rather uncertain of what to say, “I just thought we needed to talk.” His hands fidgeted nervously; Tash wouldn’t need to read his aura to see how uncomfortable he was.
“We have to talk about what happened, Tash. I’m tired of the way things are going; I mean we’ve seen each other maybe three times in the hall since then, and we don’t even say ‘hi’,” he said, his voice filled with pain.
“I guess… I mean… It’s just…”
Each time he started, he stopped; afraid to say the wrong thing at such a critical moment. Finally, after a moment of silence, he took a great breath, and let his heart do his talking. “Tash, despite what’s happened, or what’s happening now, I’m still your friend. After everything we’ve been through, all the apocalypses we’ve stopped, all the psycho power-hungry monsters we’ve killed, I don’t want to lose our friendship over one over emotional night.”
Blinking, Tash relaxed a little. Well, at least Darian wasn’t here to yell at her some more. The hurt and bitterness she felt from that meeting three weeks ago still haunted her, and she was glad that it hadn’t irreparably damaged all her relationships. The wall she’d been slowly building around her heart, however, was mostly complete now and friendship was a concept she no longer held as dear as she once had. But just as Reah and Alice were assets in her current quest, so too could Darian be useful to her. If he chose to call it friendship, then she wouldn’t disabuse him of the notion.
Smiling warmly and genuinely, she answered, “Darian, you’re right. We’ve been through far too much together to let one moment of unthinking anger spoil our relationship. I know what I said to Kate was awful, and I really shouldn’t have… but I was just so mad I couldn’t think straight. She… she just pushed all my buttons that day, y’know?”
“I understand,” he answered quickly, if not totally honestly. The truth was, he didn’t get why Tash had exploded the way she had. Sure Kate had said some things that could be upsetting, but for heaven’s sake, with what she was going through, she couldn’t be held accountable for it. Still - he was here on a peace making mission, and if he was to repair the friendship he was not going to lecture.
“In our line of work, we have to support each other you know,” he said smiling, happy that Tash was being receptive. “And I just want you to know that even if the White Hats are done with, I’m always here for you if you need me, and I hope the same goes for you.”
Moving from her stiff position on the arm of the chair to sit beside Darian, Tash placed one of her gloved hands over his own. “That’s what I was trying to build, Darian. A support network, so none of us have to go it alone. But some,” her voice turned bitter for a moment, “just didn’t seem to get that.”
Shaking off her unpleasant memories, Tash smiled again and continued, “But if the rest of us manage to stick together, we can still do some good. I took Alice over to see Delancre today, and she was very impressed by what she saw. She’s going to help with the training over there, and maybe even join in on some of the patrols. We’re really cleaning up this city, Darian – all the vampires that have moved in looking to set themselves up after the vacuum the Brotherhood left are being wiped out. It’s so much more efficient to have a team working together than to have the same number of solo hunters.”
“About that,” he said, his face apologetic. “I don’t want you to think I wasn’t committed to what you were doing, Tash. It’s just, when Cole first left, I was so distracted.” The fae leaned back into the comfy back of the couch, trying to push it from his mind – Cole had been gone for over a month now.
“I’d like to help you guys, if you’d be willing to give me another chance?” he asked hopefully.
Tash resisted the urge to laugh. Oh, this was too perfect. Even though Darian’s aura wasn’t entirely sincere, and she surmised that he simply wanted to check up on her and exactly what was happening at the mansion, she nevertheless was delighted that he was willing to come on board with the alliance. Reah had been making stronger hints about wanting to meet Delancre for herself, and Tash thought that perhaps now would be a good time. He’d been pleased with Alice, so if she could bring two more ex-White Hats into the fold it would go some way to bolster her sudden drop in value when the group split up.
Delancre had offered an alliance with the White Hats – not with just one woman, no matter how much money she had access to. And although he’d not seemed displeased when she told him of the unfortunate demise of the organisation, still she felt bad that she’d not been able to deliver all the resources she’d pledged. Now it seemed she was beginning to make good on that promise.
“Of course, Darian,” she said warmly, “Nobody ever runs out of chances with me. And if you’ve not found Cole yet, I’m sure Delancre has people who can ask around for you. It’ll be much easier than you scouring the streets randomly day and night.”
“Yeah probably,” he admitted, hoping that with more resources they could find the teen. “Well Tash, I’m around often enough so whenever you want me to meet these Watcher guys, just give me a shout.”
Tash nodded, “All right. I’ll just need to let Delancre know that I’m bringing someone else to meet him… in fact, Reah’s been agitating to meet him, too. I might take you both at the same time, if he agrees.”
“Great,” Darian said, rising from the couch, “Just let me know when, and I’ll be ready.”
“Ok, I shall.”
Tash showed Darian to the door and rested for a moment against it after he’d left. *Well, that’s a turn-up for the books.*
Her eyes rested on her work desk, visible in the next room, and she paced towards it, picking up the letter she’d dropped. Reading it once more she contemplated the bridge between her and Darian that had just been mended, then stared pensively out the window as her thoughts turned to Kate.
She kissed the letter softly before placing it back on the desk. “My little construction engineer,” she murmured into the quiet room, “I’ll keep you for when I need you.”
Dr Brown Counsels Kate
Wednesday, 18 April 2007 - Midday
Doctor Angela Brown, Psychic Counsellor – her title might have conjured up the image of some new age, crystal wearing, tofu eating lefty. Actually, Angela Brown was all of those things and more; she was the epitome of every stereotype ever propagated about people in her line of work. She believed in clean living and that included no alcohol, no meat, no drugs and a healthy approach to life based on meditation and yoga.
She only used animal friendly cosmetics and never ate genetically modified foods or used a mobile phone. She was the kind of woman who gave a disapproving glare to anyone who smoked openly in the street, especially around children, or people who used low-factor sunscreen on the beach and didn’t wear a hat to protect against dangerous UV rays.
“Just close your eyes…” she instructed serenely, her fingertips touching the side of Kate’s head lightly.
“You are in the middle of a beautiful, sunlit meadow…” she intoned gently, “visualise… the long grass, swaying in the wind, the sound of birds in the trees, the scent of buttercups and daisies… Feel the warm sun on your face… you are completely relaxed… at ease… safe…”
Kate breathed steadily, feeling her chest rise and fall rhythmically as Angela invoked the scene in that same, monotonous, breathy tone. The doctor walked around the living room now, slowly swinging a censer on a long, silver chain, the rich scent of burning herbs and spices filling the room.
“Now imagine… you are walking through the meadow, your bare feet on the dewy grass, the light, summer breeze in your hair. You hear the trickling sound of a river nearby, the sky is a massive expanse of cerulean blue overhead without a cloud in sight. Breathe in, Kate. Feel the air filling your lungs, cleansing you, purifying your body. Now breathe out and as the air leaves your lips, imagine it taking all the pain and sorrow with it. You are released, free, without a care in the world..."
Kate breathed again, opening one eye suspiciously to glance at the woman who called herself a doctor as she circled the room where she sat cross-legged. As Angela turned back to face her, Kate closed her eyes tightly again, concentrating on her breathing. This was such a waste of her time, time that would be better spent practising the lessons Marcus had taught her last night, but Kate had promised Galen and Jack that she would give Dr Brown a chance.
So here she was, sitting for the second time that week like some lunatic in white linen pants and a headscarf while Angela Brown danced around her waving that silver ball of incense, leaving a trail of grey smoke in her wake. Kate huffed in irritation, blowing a lock of red hair from her face.
“Now…” continued the doctor, kneeling back down in front of Kate and placing her hands on either side of Kate’s head. “You walk through the meadow until you see a door-”
“In the middle of a meadow?” Kate asked sceptically, arching an eyebrow in doubt.
“Shhh, concentrate,” ordered the doctor with approbation. “Now… you walk up to the door and take the handle in your hand. Do you feel it? Cold and hard, metallic… you give it a twist and the door opens to reveal a staircase…”
“But-” protested Kate but was cut off again.
“SHHH!!! Now, Kate… you begin to descend. It’s dark and steep, but don’t worry, the door behind you is still wide open, leading back to that safe place. You carry on walking, further and further down the staircase. What do you see?”
Kate moistened her lips as she furrowed her brow in thought. “I don’t see anything, it’s too dark,” she answered finally with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Come on Kate,” encouraged the woman urgently, “the darkness is just a construct of your mind, preventing you from seeing what is there, you must look past it.”
“But ho-”
“Don’t ask me Kate, it is something that you have to do yourself. Now… try.”
Kate closed her eyes tighter and allowed her breathing to resume its rhythm again. As Angela resumed her quiet talking, Kate could feel herself descending, feel the cool chill of the stairwell around her, hear the sound of water dripping, echoing through the enclosure. As she opened her eyes she was surrounded by darkness, endless and deep. Kate gasped in shock, looking around wildly, turning back and seeing the bright shaft of sunlight, high above her and far in the distance. She moaned in distress as the door began to close and the light grew smaller and dimmer.
“NO! … NO!” Kate cried out desperately.
“It’s okay, Kate,” intruded the calm, peaceable voice of Angela Brown, “You’re safe, that door doesn’t have to close if you don’t want it to. Remember, you control what happens here, nobody else. Now… turn back… what do you see?”
Kate gasped in distress, feeling tears building behind her closed eyes. “I see… Emma… she’s so beautiful, she’s lying in her crib… she’s awake, she’s… she’s waiting for me to come get her.”
Dr Brown frowned and made a few frantic scribblings in her notebook. “That’s good Kate… what else do you see?”
“Flowers, lots and lots of flowers… red and white – no, the red… the red is blood.”
“Is it your blood Kate?”
Kate frowned uncomfortably. “I don’t know.”
“Is it blood that has already been shed, or that which is to come?”
Kate drew in a sharp breath as she looked around the room. Emma lay gurgling in her crib, her legs kicking happily, yet all around her were bundles and bundles of white flowers sprayed with bright crimson.
“Both,” she answered finally.
“You’re doing well Kate… really well,” said Dr Brown gently, her eyes fixed on the stricken woman as she struggled to keep control. “What’s happening now?”
“I’m there…” Kate answered hollowly. In her mind she was an observer, watching a scene play out in front of her. “I lift Emma from the crib, I hold her in my arms… we… we’re sitting on the floor and the blood… the blood is on my hands and on Emma…” she gasped suddenly, her hands flying to her mouth in horror.
“In the dark! I can see them… I can see them!”
“What?” asked the doctor earnestly, “It’s okay Kate, remember you’re in control here, nothing can hurt you. What do you see in the dark?”
“Faces, lots of faces… all… watching, waiting… I hold Emma, I’m trying to protect her, keep her safe but… the blood! It’s everywhere! I can’t! I can’t…”
“It’s okay… it’s okay…” soothed the woman, gently bringing Kate back, “You turn away from that place, you go back up the stairs to the door and push it back open. You’re in the meadow and everything is safe and warm and bright…”
Kate opened her eyes suddenly, her breathing short and harsh as she awakened from the trance. She stared at Dr Brown; her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“That was very good Kate,” said Angela in satisfaction as she helped her charge to her feet and sat her down on the couch. “We made good progress today.”
“I… I can’t make sense of it,” said Kate tiredly.
“That’s okay, in time your subconscious will make the signs more recognisable. It is hard work, but we can do it if you’re willing.”
“No…” said Kate, shaking her head and rising to her feet, “I can’t… I won’t… I won’t go back there.”
“But- Kate!” called Dr Brown as Kate fled from the room, pushing past Galen and Jack who had been waiting with bated breath just in the hallway.
Kate almost knocked Galen over as she ran past him and he followed her with his eyes as she ran up the stairs in a flood of tears. “What…?” he said incredulously, turning to Jack.
“She’ll be okay,” said Dr Brown as the woman appeared in the doorway. “We made good headway today, but she’s still resisting me, trying to block me out of her thoughts. She’s quite persistent actually – which is a good sign, though this might take longer than I’d anticipated.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, April 18th 2007
Dawn
Alessa touched Cole’s forehead and was relieved that he was cooler, and his wound looked better too. He wasn’t healed, but evidently his magic had started working through the night.
She had set her alarm clock to sound every two hours so she could check on him during the night. Despite the teen’s confidence in his own abilities, she would have taken him to the hospital in a second if his condition worsened in the least. Fortunately, there had been no motive for doing so, he really was recovering.
Planting a light kiss on his messy hair, she retreated carefully trying not to wake him, closing the door softly behind her in her way out.
“How is he?” Kyle asked, taking Alessa by surprise as she left his room. He hadn’t slept much but, then again, he never did sleep much. Too many bad dreams, or good dreams from which he never wanted to wake.
Alessa’s hand flew to her heart and she suppressed a little cry. “Damn you, Kyle! Do you always creep on people like that!?”
Kyle’s brow furrowed. *Do I creep?* “Not really.” He nodded towards the closed door, “So…how is he?”
“Better,” she answered, then turned to move away from the door. “Let’s not talk in here, he needs to sleep.” She tightened her robe around her, tying its belt - he wouldn’t be staring this time. Without turning, she started walking towards the big French doors that opened to the huge balcony.
She asked, “Do you want a cup of coffee? We can talk out here.”
Following her out, Kyle shook his head. “Uh, no I’m good.” Out on the balcony he felt uncomfortable. Hell, in the whole house he felt uncomfortable. In his dim, distant memory, he could remember living like this… “He should be better by morning, right?” he asked hurriedly, returning to Cole to take those thoughts out of his mind.
Alessa suppressed a snort. He really was intent in not accepting anything from her, except her vodka, of course.
“In case you haven’t noticed, it is morning already,” she said, signalling the ocean with her head from where the sun was rising in all its glory, “and yes, I guess he’ll be better. He’s already healing.”
She approached the veranda and leant over to watch the sunrise, albeit shivering in the dawn’s chill. “Don’t know what’s happened to the boy, but his magic’s got stronger.” She turned around and was surprised to see a dreamy expression in the man’s eyes, although it disappeared almost instantly behind his expressionless mask. Alessa raised an eyebrow; she was intrigued by this Kyle.
“So, how did you meet Cole?”
Kyle realised with shock that it was, indeed, morning. This house really had him off-balance. “It’s a long story.” He thought about it. “Actually, it’s not. We kind of… ran into each other. And Vince as well,” he added quickly.
*Vince,* she thought, *dead Vince.* She grimaced as the kid’s face appeared clearly in her mind. Then she realized what he had said and couldn’t suppress a smile.
“Funny. I also met him by accident… along with Vincent.” *And Chance.* She shook her head. She was getting good at suppressing her memories of him, but this situation was very déjà vu like.
“We were fighting some vampires,” she added, and watched his reaction. If she wasn’t mistaken, Kyle had taken her for a pampered rich bitch and she wanted to put things straight with him as soon as possible.
*‘Fighting vampires’?* Kyle thought, *Wouldn’t that have broken a nail?*
What he said, however, was, “Really?” The tone of his voice made him sound very sceptical. “I hadn’t put Cole or Vince down for the knight-in-shining-armour types.”
Alessa smiled sweetly at Kyle, angered at his underestimating her. It really was time to put things straight with him. She fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“Oh, yes. They were so kind, too, you know? Those ugly beasties attacked me and wanted to… to…” she stopped, feigning a shiver. “And then Cole created this magic barrier, and Vince had a gleaming glove, and I …”
She moved too quickly for him to stop her and he found himself on the floor, Alessa sitting on him, her hand strongly pushing him backwards. “I was just helping them, you see? Fighting my way out of that damn alley!”
Kyle raised an eyebrow, but showed no more reaction than that. “I see,” was his only reply, before pushing Alessa off him with his own demonic strength, sending her flying onto her back. Briefly, he thought about leaping onto her, whether to wrap his hands around her throat or otherwise, but dismissed it just as quickly.
Cole seemed fond of her, and if Kyle killed her he’d only earn his wrath. And after just killing Vincent, that was one mage he didn’t want to bring down on his ass. He got back to his feet bristling with rage.
“Don’t do that again.” His eyes were narrowed with barely-contained fury.
Alessa leapt onto her feet lithely, shoving her long hair backwards and grinning. “Oh, yes? And what would you do if I did, kill me?” she said, her tone taunting. “I’d like to see you try.” She surprised herself by really wanting it, she hadn't had a good fight in a long, long while and she wouldn’t mind teaching this gloating kid a lesson.
“Try to kill you?” Kyle asked, leaping to her taunt. “Please. I’ve faced vampiresses with muscles bigger than your rack. There’d be no trying involved. I wouldn’t even break a sweat, probably.”
Alessa just laughed at that, she really was enjoying herself. She walked towards him, raising her head just a little to make eye contact. He was very young and he'd probably go on growing, but at the moment he was just a little taller than her. She just stared at him for a moment, licking her lips; then she looked down at herself, opening her robe and studying her own body, still clad in her flimsy nightgown.
“Really? Do I look so frail?” she said, frowning, then she tilted her head again to watch him. “Maybe you could help me with that… what should I be? More muscular?” As she spoke her arms and torso grew muscle worthy of Schwarzanegger. A look of disgust marred her pretty features.
“No… that’s not right… maybe taller ?” Her legs elongated making her have to look down at his astonished face.
“You are right. That’s not good either.” Her face brightened in a smile. “I know! More hairy !” she said, turning in her Verbati form and looming over him.
*Hm. Demon. Interesting.* Kyle thought, looking her up and down. *Should have seen that coming.*
“Two can play at that game. Plus, hair is good…” He let his fire out, his tail growing out from his rump to whip around his head as his skin darkened and his skull cracked up, fire leaping up from within.
“Hair burns,” he finished, basking in the shocked expression now on Alessa’s *demon* face.
She recovered quickly, angrily studying him. “So you are a Kaoshian?” she asked, the words sounding strange coming from her inhuman mouth. “Should have known you weren’t human, you reek of smoke!”
“No,” Kyle answered. Running under his voice was a distant sound of roaring fire each time he opened his mouth. “That’s just the cigarettes.”
“Well, you know what they say. Cigarettes kill you.” She stepped forward, now completely furious.
Kyle took a step forward of his own, his voice filled with menace. "So can a lot of things," he growled.
The demoness hissed dangerously as she slowly began to stalk forward, her gaze locked onto her fiery opponent. It was a shame the house would most likely be damaged during this, but, then again, Oz was on the payroll.
Kyle was first to react, moving at lightning speed as he jumped at Alessa, bringing his tail whipping around to strike her head.
“STOP!”
A flash of bright blue light illuminated the terrace, and when it vanished, the two gladiators were frozen in place; Alessa in her fighting stance, and Kyle floating in mid air.
“What the hell is going on here?!” Cole screamed, as he stumbled into the open, his eyes still groggy from sleep.
With an effort, Alessa turned slightly her head, trying to see the boy staggering towards them, her fury completely forgotten with her sudden concern for his health.
“Let me loose, Cole,” she asked, morphing back to human, but immobile nonetheless. She turned her eyes to the floating Kaoshian, still seething but calmer.
“I won't till you promise you aren’t killing each other!” the teen shouted again, trembling with the effort but intent in keeping his friends apart. “Both of you!”
“I promise. But you better put your friend there on a leash,” she sneered.
Kyle’s eyes narrowed as he hung in the air. “Take your leash and shove it, lady.” He looked back to Cole and saw the unimpressed expression on his face. With great reluctance, Kyle sighed and shifted to his human form. Going around killing the ‘people’ Cole liked would not end well anyway.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?” Cole asked after it was clear Kyle wasn’t saying any more.
Kyle sighed again. “Fine, I promise not to kill her.” *At least, not right now…* “But she better not piss me off again.”
Alessa snorted, “As if you could…” she caught Cole’s expression and rolled her eyes. “Ok, ok, sorry about that.”
With a slight wave of his hand the magic dissipated, releasing Alessa and Kyle from its grip. The three stood there, not speaking, just basking in the awkwardness of the moment until Cole’s shaking began to get the better of him.
“Is it too much to ask that the only people I care about not try to kill each other?” he asked through a choked voice under his breath as he stormed out of the room.
Alessa just stood there, fighting herself not to follow him. Then she turned her eyes to the now human looking Kyle. The demon was infuriating, but she didn’t want to upset Cole.
“I care too much for Cole to hurt him,” she said coldly, “I guess we could get to some kind of truce, don’t you?” She wasn’t ready for more than that.
“Works for me,” Kyle replied bitterly, then turned and walked off. He had nothing more to say.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 17 April 2007
Bob’s Bar
11:15pm
A simple car pulled up across the street from Bob’s Bar, the men inside it about to carry out their plan. They were moving quickly, since they'd got information from a well-placed bribe that he came here every night for drinks. Unfortunately the loyalty of a friend who is bribed for that sort of information could be quite fickle, so they couldn’t take as long as they would have liked to watch.
Nikolai sat in the passenger seat in the front, with Jimmy driving and two rather strong guys in the back. They waited patiently for the guard to come out, and Nikolai gave a nod as they watched the man stagger. One of the heavies opened the car door and went up to him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Peterson?” he said, getting the guard’s attention. That was enough confirmation. In one solid move he grabbed Peterson and violently pulled him towards the car. “Get in there you son of a bitch,” he said, violently tossing him in before the car sped off down the road.
Wednesday, 18 April 2007
Abandoned Warhouse
2:15am
Peterson was a man who was stronger than he looked, Nikolai thought, which suited him just fine. “Put him back in the chair,” Nikolai ordered.
They’d been questioning him for about an hour now, at first more gently and just making threats. Then they’d made the sounds like they were making a few phone calls to put the hit on someone close to him, and that didn’t work. It was clear that he was man really afraid to betray the Council. So they’d picked him up and started beating on him. A few cracked ribs weren’t incentive enough to talk, and now Nikolai had him sitting there tied to the chair as he tried to work out exactly what to do next.
“I really think you should consider talking, Peterson,” Nikolai said. “Maybe my associates won’t do things to her, but we can always work on you.”
Peterson’s response was to try to spit at him. At a nod from Nikolai, the two heavy guys went to force him down into the chair. When he resisted, Jimmy delivered a swift punch to the face that dazed him for a minute. Within a few minutes, Peterson found himself tied to the chair and barefoot. Nikolai kneeled next to him. “Come on, last chance. Just tell us something. I don’t want to do this, but will if you make me.”
Peterson stared at him defiantly, Nikolai standing in frustration. He looked to one of his men, who picked up a hammer and moved to kneel in front of Peterson. The man had already gambled that Nikolai really wouldn’t go after his wife, and won. She was a civilian, after all, and you just didn’t whack civilians. That wasn’t the way business was done, especially not when the head of the family was a ‘Moustache Pete’.
The thug watched Peterson sit there defiantly, almost daring him to do something. Nikolai stared back.
Then he nodded once.
WHAM!
“AHHHG!”
Peterson’s voice sounded loud when the hammer connected hard with his toe.
WHAM!
“OH GOD!”
“Hold it,” Nikolai said when his heavy went to raise the hammer again. He noticed that Jimmy looked away some in wincing, as Peterson sat there breathing heavily. Nikolai withheld all emotion from his voice as he spoke. “Eight more to go, then we work on your knees. You can work out what comes after that, I’m sure.”
Peterson stared at Nikolai with rage in his eyes. “Fuck you,” he replied.
“Ouch,” Jimmy muttered, when the next hammer blow came. Wincing in some sympathy at the force of the blow, he was amazed at the ruthlessness that Nikolai could raise. Then again… hadn’t his mentor in the KGB been Lavrenti Sabarov?
After they finished on the first foot, Nikolai stopped the pounding again. “It’s not like I’m getting my ideas from Teroc’s Guild to Information Gathering for Beginners,” he cautioned. Sabarov had, in fact, early in his training at ‘information gathering’ sat him down and nitpicked the text line-by-line.
The questioning continued until they reached and smashed the knees, annoyance growing. More brutal tactics were certainly called for, and crushing those organs could cause problems. “Jimmy,” he said. “You do me a favour?” he asked.
“What do you need?”
“Just some electrical supplies.”
Jimmy winced at that, though a new thought occurred to him. It was obvious to him that the man wouldn’t survive the questioning either way, but at least he could end it for him quickly. “Boss, I have a better idea…”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** April 18th, 9:04 am ***
Longwood Estates
“This stuff is really good,” Cole said between mouthfuls of bland toast.
Alessa’s eyebrows arched, as she gave the boy an icy glare. “Are you making fun of my breakfast skills, Cole?”
Taking a sip from a large glass of orange juice, the teen couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “You would think, with all this luxury, the house could have at least come equipped with a cook. Maybe that way we wouldn’t have to survive on a diet of refrigerated dinners, eh?”
The demoness tried to feign anger, but the ruse didn’t last; she finally gave in, and with a chuckle agreed with the boy.
“I’m just kidding though. You know I really don’t care about all this lavishness; I’d be happy even if we were in a run down 4½ apartment,” he added, his baby blue peepers staring lovingly at the woman. She and Kyle were the only friends he had left in the world, and even then Kyle was becoming more and more mysterious. When it came down to it, she was the closest thing he had to family.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. This house seems just too much, and to tell you the truth, sometimes I feel like I’m staying in an expensive hotel.” She smiled and tried a bit of toast, bad indeed. “Well, you wait till Mrs. O’Donnell comes back, she makes the most delicious food. You’ll be in heaven.”
“Mrs. O’Donnell?” asked the kid, sipping his café con leche; from his expression she guessed he didn’t find it to his taste either. Sighing, she took his cup and reserved it for her.
“Yes, she does most of the house chores, and the cooking. No refrigerator dinners here, kid,” she joked and ruffled his hair, before setting a cup of black coffee in front of him. Then she sat down in front of him, studying him for a minute before leaning across the table to hold his hand. “I’m glad you are here, kid. I had missed you.”
Oz pushed the lawnmower into the shed and looked back over the lawn he had just mowed. It was lush and green thanks to regular watering and a little care. *Looks just like the magazines,* he thought. He wiped his brow and headed into the back door of the manor to get a drink of water from the kitchen.
He opened the door and strolled through the sunshine-filled breakfast nook. He greeted Alessa and glanced casually at the young man she was eating with. He was three steps towards the sink when he realized who it was.
Whirling around he shoved past Alessa and pushed the small table aside to grab the boy by the collar. "YOU!" he bellowed.
Alessa's yelp as she tumbled roughly from her chair made Oz say, "Sorry, Alessa, what is this punk putting you up to? Are you okay?"
He didn't take his dark eyes off the boy once but held him up against the wall with one hand, and the other hand free so he could act quickly.
Cole couldn’t believe what he was seeing; *The church guy?! But how, huh… why..?* His mind jumbled, until finally filling with a throbbing pain which arrived in the back of his head seconds after being violently slammed against the wall.
The man would pay for that. Cole's azure eyes, only moment before filled with adoring affection, now seethed with bitter rage. “Mighty Hecate, to thee I..- podfhiuh.”
Before the final words of the incantation could be uttered, Oz’s free hand shot upwards, locking over the teen’s mouth. "Not so fast, Goldilocks. You have to incant for an incantation. I already knew that one. And don't think I'm above breaking those delicate fingers if you try to wave them at me either." The anger and menace in Oz's voice was clear.
The boy tried to wriggle free, but it was no use; without his magic, he was helpless. The man was far larger, and far stronger.
“OZ!” cried Alessa as she sprang up from the floor. She watched with shocked eyes as her friend was pinned up against the wall as if he weighed less than a feather and effectively shut up. “What are you doing!?” she finally said, and ran to them. “OZ, he’s a friend!” she called again, as she tugged at his arm to let Cole loose, but she hadn't missed the exchange.
Oz looked at her with disbelief. "A friend? What would you say if a friend of yours tortured and nearly killed another one of your friends?"
Shifting his gaze over to Alessa, Cole cast a pleading look, as if begging her not to let Oz hurt him. He hated this, this feeling of helplessness. If only Kyle were here, then the two boys could teach him another lesson.
Alessa’s hand fell from Oz as if burnt; she just looked at him for a second, his words echoing in her thought and the memory of Tash’s ordeal at James’ hands vivid in her mind. *No podés ser amiga de Dios y del Diablo,* 1 she told herself, and her eyes flew from Oz’s furious stare to Cole’s pleading one.
“You set him loose, please Oz,” she said calmly, and looked into his eyes again. “I want to know what happened.”
Oz got very close to Cole's face and whispered, "I'm watching you. Try anything funny, mage-orette and I'll stuff my arm down your throat and tickle your kidneys. Understand?" He then slowly released the boy and stepped back. "You heard the lady. Tell her."
The boy deliberated on whether or not to immolate the man then and there for his barbaric behavior, but finally decided against it; they were still close, and he didn’t want to risk the chances of the man getting to him before he could finish a spell.
Instead, Cole simply remained silent, not knowing what to say. He had been pretty mean to the man, and he was ashamed to tell Alessa what he had done. “What are you doing here?” he finally managed to mumble, trying slowly to edge his way closer to Alessa.
“He works for me, Cole,” Alessa answered the question before Oz could say anything, watching the kid approach her. Oz’s menace she had heard, and could see the boy was scared. She shot a warning glance at Oz before talking to Cole again. Oz looked smug until she shot him her withering gaze.
“Come on, Cole. Nobody is going to hurt you.” She gave the boy a hard look, “But you aren't going to do your magic until I know what’s happening here.”
The teen gulped as he kept his eyes fixed on the stranger. *I hope he gives me a reason to incinerate him.* “Well… last month, Vince, Kyle and I were having a little fun at this church right,” Cole said, thinking best how to phrase this very pleasant anecdote. “Anyways, this guy shows up and starts yelling and stuff. We got scared, so I used some magic on him.” The boy’s tone grew soft, as if he had been some poor victim child, terrorized by a crazy whacko. “Things got out of hand, and Vince accidentally dropped him in an aqueduct. We tried to save him, but the current was too fast.”
Oz looked into Cole's eyes and he imagined he could see gloating in his eyes. *Oh, that lying little...* "Bullshit, you and your pals were defacing a church. When I told you to stop you surrounded me, beat me bloody and dropped me into the aqueduct on the end of a rope. I still have a scar around my neck from that you..." Oz was moving towards the boy when Alessa laid a hand on his arm.
She didn’t say a word for a moment, but her eyes were intent on her young friend. The Cole she knew wouldn’t act like that, but the anger in Oz’s voice wasn’t forged either, and she believed him. Something bad must have happened for Cole to behave like that. Trying to find the words so Cole wouldn’t think she was taking sides she asked, “Is that true, Cole?”
“Well, it’s all a matter of perspective,” Cole smirked, his new attitude getting the better of him. Now that he had managed to get far enough away from the man, he was confident he could react before Oz could get up to him.
Oz watched Cole's confidence replace the intimidation that had been there before. He could tell he wasn't going to win this right now. But he'd make sure that the punk didn't think he was going to get away Scott-free either. Oz casually picked up a fork and flung it hard enough to bury it in the wall just below Cole's ear. "I don't have to beat you with my hand, boy. You'd better watch yourself here on the grounds. Inside these walls I am willing to observe a truce."
Oz turned to Alessa and let the anger subside, "I'm sorry for this display, I'll clean it up and fix the wall. I need to go cool off some elsewhere." Oz sent a pointed glance at the boy and turned to leave.
"Asshole," Cole hissed, below his breath.
Oz stopped with one foot in the doorway holding the doorknob so tightly his knuckles were white. He slowly closed the door and walked back to the jumble in the kitchen. "I'm sorry," Oz said, "I didn't hear you clearly. My," he popped Cole hard in the teeth and watched the boy sag to the floor bleeding from his mouth, "fist was in your mouth."
Tears began to well in Cole’s eyes, but the teen tried desperately to hold them back as he stumbled to his feet.
“You’re a dead man!” he screamed through sobs, as he unleashed a bolt of pure hatred onto Oz. The dark magic crackled and sizzled over the ex-angel’s body, slowly pushing him backwards, and holding him tightly in place.
“Denizens of below, hear my call, This flesh do I offer you,
Finally breaking free from the state of shock that had overtaken her, Alessa jumped towards the young mage and began to shake him, thereby breaking his concentration.Take the sinner in your shadowy embrace
And…”
“What are you doing, Cole?!” she screamed, a look of fiery anger burning in her voice. She wasn’t sure what the teen was preparing, but by the sounds of it, it wouldn’t be anything nice. “And as for you,” she bellowed, turning to Oz, “where the hell do you get off hitting him?!”
Oz felt the icy tendrils reluctantly surrender his flesh as the incantation ended unfinished. Oz stammered, "He... I... He called me an asshole!" Oz felt embarrased he had said it. Something about Alessa reminded him of Margaret. He had heard Frank utter such inane things as a boy as well. *I might as well be this kid's age, the way I'm acting.*
Oz composed himself, cleared his throat and pointed at Cole. "This kid is like a hand-grenade with the pin pulled. You are better off throwing him out and letting him blow up someone else. I meant it about a truce, kid, but you wouldn't let it go. I'll warn you though, kid, if you send the dark ones after someone you'd better make sure they don't know him on a first name basis."
Now that the initial anger had subsided, the pain in Cole's mouth began to overtake him again. Slowly the tears began to flow freely down his bloodied face. “You know what?! I have better things to do with my time and energy than waste it on some stupid house servant,” he hissed, as he began to storm out of the room, not wanting the man to see him weeping from the blow.
Before he fully exited however, he turned back around and gazed infuriatedly at Alessa, “You know, if Chance were still here, he would have killed the man for hitting me.” With that final biting comment, he vanished from the room.
Alessa paled as if he had struck her, and she had to steady herself as she watched the boy storm away in anger. He knew how to hurt her, that was something she had to acknowledge. Looking at the door she muttered. “If Chance were still here you wouldn’t have attacked a defenceless man…”
"Alessa, I... I'm sorry," Oz said to her as she paused in the doorway between both the two angry guests and rooms. "See to the boy, he'll need fixing up. I'll be in the shed if you need me." Oz turned to leave and muttered "Asshole" under his own breath as he left the kitchen and returned to the yard.
Translations:
[/]1) "You can't make friends with both God and the Devil."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, April 19th
11:41am
So this was his life, seen through the bottom of an empty bottle.
He was used to seeing it that way now. It’s the only way he could see it; one empty bottle after another, one cigarette after another, one vampire after another. Sometimes not even vampires; random strangers on occasion, although recently he’d been doing that a lot less…
What a pointless waste.
What was he doing with his life? Throwing himself into battles to the death every night, killing his lungs, poisoning his liver…
What was the point, really?
Kyle reconsidered that question. He must be really drunk to let himself consider such things. Normally he’d just push it to the back of his mind, ignore it, hope it went away, carry on. His sober mind would never dwell on such thoughts. It wouldn’t allow him to. Only when he was this drunk, and on reflection he reminded himself why he didn’t get this drunk often, was he able to let himself think like this.
Denial. It’s what he was living in. Ignoring the truth, living in a fantasy… not even that. His life was hardly a fantasy. Barely a life, even. Just moving from one moment to the next, ever searching for greater highs to remind himself that he was alive, and at the same time, to take his mind off his life.
He was sure that there was some irony in that, but wasn’t quite certain exactly how.
Nobody would mind if wasn’t here. He hadn’t made any impact in anyone’s life, not any great one, and not one that somebody would miss him for.
What time was it?
Kyle checked his watch, remembered he didn’t have a watch, and glanced at the clock behind the wall. Half seven? Was it really that late? No… wait… it was twenty to twelve. In the morning.
Cole would probably be wondering where he was. Up at that lady’s big house. Screw them. The more he kept Cole at arm’s length, the better. Otherwise he’d get too close, and that’d be…
Be what? Be bad? Why? Because of what happened last time? How did he even know Cole would do something like that? He’d showed no signs of it.
Then again, how did he know he could entirely trust Cole? He’d killed Vincent and all he had was Cole’s story to go by. How could he trust anyone? Better safe then sorry, or he could end up impaled.
Or… maybe it’d be bad in a different way. Maybe it’d be bad because he was afraid of letting anyone get too close-
Not even Kyle’s drunken mind let him dwell on that for too long. No sooner than the thought had begun to form, his mind shut down on it, forgot it, relegated it to the dark places of his mind. And that was that.
He hated moments like this. Sometimes they came on suddenly, without reason or warning, sometimes after seeing, say, a group of friends, a couple, maybe after a good dream that he couldn’t remember very well, except all he knew was that it was better than his life. And then he’d have a cigarette, look for a vampire, get a strong drink. And then another, and he’d keep going until he couldn’t remember any more, to just drift in the state were conscious thought isn’t required and he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to remember…
But, until then, he’d be in the state he was now; wallowing in self-pity and self-despair, trying to burn away the emptiness inside with alcohol and adrenaline and nicotine, sometimes sex and drugs, to fill the gap he wasn’t even aware most of the time that he had with something. Anything. Anything to stop him feeling so… lonely, so lost, so confused…
Again, Kyle’s mind turned to something else. Anything else. He suddenly realised that, even in his intoxicated state, his last few thoughts had only taken a matter of seconds. He had run out of beer, and managed to order another.
He took a swig.
That was better. This would be the last one. After this, what was barely passing for conscious thought would fade away to unconsciousness and, for a little while at least, he wouldn’t be aware of anything wrong in his life. If that wasn’t worth drinking for, Kyle didn’t know what was. Already the moment was beginning to pass, and he could start to feel himself feeling better.
A voice in his head, one that grew slowly fainter and more desperate, cried out to him that this wasn’t the way to go, that in the end denial would only make things worse, that he should allow himself to think these things through fully, or they would explode all at once, that he couldn’t keep walking round in a dream, suffering occasionally from these moments and burying them until next time. But the alcohol silenced that voice as it sent him into unconsciousness on the bar, and Kyle was at peace once again, ready, once he had awoken, to move on to the next moment.
What he didn’t know, however, was that he was feeling the after-effects of Hyde 232 being burnt out of his system. His inner fire, which burned so fiercely only the strongest bacteria lasted a few days, had finally removed the last physical traces of 232 Kyle had contracted from Cole, also keeping any physical symptoms at bar. Of course, Hyde was part mystical, too. That had little effect on Kyle either, as but for these moments, he lived without a moral code or a conscience anyway. Still, even for Kyle his moral depravity had increased marginally since contracting the virus.
Such moments he was accustomed to and happened often anyway, which explained why Kyle's subconscious chose to manifest the by-products in such a way, and why he’d felt no cause for concern. By the time Kyle would wake from having just fallen unconscious slumped over the bar, Hyde 232 would be gone completely and he would be back to his ‘normal’ self again.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday April 19th,
2:43pm
Kyle woke slowly and groaned. The pavement was pressing against his face, trembling with passing cars. The sun was shining in his face, stinging his eyes as he blinked them open. There was a pool of drying vomit nearby that, he believed, was probably his own.
He didn’t know where he was.
Well, he did. He could see the bar he had been drinking in just… a few hours ago. *Yes, that was it. Must have got chucked out after passing out. Good job I didn’t have any of that reward left to steal.* At least he didn’t feel quite so drunk any more. Or, for that matter, hungover.
He groaned again and sat up, looking around. His gaze stopped on a man sitting on a nearby bench, carefully studying him.
“I was beginning to wonder when you were going to wake up,” Moore said. “I feared you would be out for several more hours, possibly all night, in which case I would have to take some… drastic measures.”
Kyle rubbed his head as he picked himself off the ground and wobbled over to the bench, dropping down hard next to Moore. “Even though we’ve only met once, and I haven’t seen you in weeks, I’m somehow not surprised to see you here.” It was true. He had heard no word from Moore or Stevenson in almost a month, and it was about time he showed up because Kyle’s funds had run out.
Moore flashed him a rare smile. “I hope you have recovered enough. Stevenson has a job for you.” He looked around, then stood. “Follow me and I’ll explain.”
Nodding, Kyle stood as well just as a limo pulled up from nowhere. Without saying anything, Moore opened the door and got in, Kyle following behind.
The vehicle started up and pulled away. Kyle looked round the interior and restraining the desire to whistle. It had been a while since he had been in a limo.
“Stevenson wishes to see you for himself,” Moore said after a minute of silence, and said no more.
Kyle said nothing for the rest of the journey. There was nothing else to say.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 19th April 2007 – 3:14pm
Delancre’s LA Mansion
Having just arranged for Reah and Darian to meet Delancre the following afternoon, Tash was striding down the hallway from Delancre’s study, heading towards the outside training area when the front door opened. That in itself wasn’t unusual – people came and went all the time here – but the door admitted Moore. She’d barely run into the man more than once or twice, and she didn’t even know his first name. But apart from herself, Delancre and Ana, Moore was the only other human she’d seen in the house.
For a second her eyes flickered to the man accompanying Moore, noting that she’d not seen him here before. Narrowing her eyes at his aura, she nodded quietly to herself. *Demon.* So far as she’d been able to tell, Moore’s job was to go find new demons who were willing to fight for Delancre’s cause. None of the new recruits so far had joined the regular patrols, but Tash had seen some of them training separately. Delancre’s preference for demon troops over human had surprised Tash at first, until she saw how versatile those troops could be. In the fight against vampires, demons often had an edge and she could see that Delancre was merely trying to utilise that advantage.
Paying the pair no more attention, she continued on her way as she heard Moore murmur to the guard. She was around the corner and well out of earshot by the time the study door opened and then closed again.
Inside the luxurious room Delancre rose smoothly from his seat, dismissing Moore with a graceful gesture. “Ah, do come in,” he said to the demon, “So you’re Kyle Ashton. Please, have a seat.” He smiled broadly, indicating the plush armchair he was offering Kyle.
Kyle nodded, hesitating a moment before lowering himself into the chair and glancing around the room. It was certainly… something. Grand. And the man at the centre of it all was just as grand. Stevenson. “So, I guess you’re Stevenson, right? That’s who Moore said he was bringing me to see.”
Chuckling quietly, Delancre sat in the chair opposite Kyle. “Oh, that’s Hollis Moore for you. He likes to think he’s starring in a cloak-and-dagger movie. I blame his proximity to Hollywood for that. No, my name is Delancre. Lord Ambrose William Bryce Delancre III, Earl of Romney and First Elder of the Watchers’ Council. And I do believe that your goals and ours may be similar enough that we can be of benefit to each other.”
*So it’s Lord Delancre is it? Interesting.* Kyle smiled nastily. “My goals are getting in a good fight and having a few drinks. As long as you keep passing my way things like taking on those vamps, then yeah, I reckon we can be of benefit.” He thought about what Delancre had said. “But I haven’t heard of this ‘Watchers’ Council’ before. Doesn’t sound too fear-inspiring.”
Delancre sighed regretfully. “No, it really doesn’t. Until recently the leaders of the Council were prepared to merely ‘watch’ the goings on in the supernatural world. But it’s not enough to simply keep tabs on the various evils in the world. Something needs to be done to ensure the safety of all people. Now, demons exist in this realm but not all are the types who want to eat human babies for breakfast. Whatever your personal philosophy might be, it’s apparent that you are intent on destroying those of the more baby-eating bent. In my books, that makes you perfect for the new Watchers’ Council. The Council that will take an active part in keeping humanity – and non-evil demons, of course – safe from those who would lay waste to our world.”
Sitting back, Ambrose watched Kyle carefully. He needed to gauge whether this new demon would be a suitable subject for brainwashing into his organisation, or whether he’d be more useful as a semi-independent operative. He pitched his next question casually. “Would you perhaps be interested in becoming a member of the Council?”
Kyle rubbed his chin, his fingers passing over the day or so’s worth of stubble as he digested what he had just been told, and considered the question. “Don’t get me wrong, I like fighting vampires, but I’m not into this hero stuff. I don’t think being a Council member is for me. But I guess I would like to do more of those, uh, ‘missions’ like the one that Moore sent me on.”
Delancre’s eyes narrowed, “I see,” he said slowly. “And no doubt you’d like to receive more of the rewards of which you’ve had only a taste so far.”
He abruptly waved Kyle to silence as the demon tried to respond, and let anger show through. This was perhaps one of the more difficult ways to get what he wanted from Kyle, but he had planned for all contingencies, and the demon was already beginning to fall into one of his projected patterns. Letting his false display of ire subside, Delancre allowed a smile to grace his lips.
“I apologise, perhaps I was judging too harshly. There are so many in this business who are only in it for the money – but you have other motivations, do you not?”
“My motivations are my own,” Kyle replied, bristling. “You want me to take out vampires, hell even demons, that’s fine, but I ain’t explaining myself to anyone, not even you.” He stood abruptly. “Yeah, I’d dust vamps anyway. But it might not be the ones you want dusted. So if you want to offer me something to do that, that’s great. If not, then I guess you’ll just have to find some other vampire-hunting demon willing to work for you. Good luck.”
Delancre’s laugh was deep and warm. “Please, calm yourself,” he said, standing. “Indeed, you are quite correct. I’m sure you would fight vampires in any case – although your assertion that there might be some I do not wish destroyed is erroneous. It is, after all, part of our charter to – how did you put it? – ‘dust’ vampires. It is, however, a simpler task when one has additional resources beyond oneself.”
He paced to the door and rested his hand very deliberately on the knob. “I am offering you a chance to enjoy the benefits of some of those additional resources. You have indicated that you wish to maintain some autonomy, and I can appreciate that. However, if you feel that you do not wish to compromise your principles then by all means refuse my assistance and I shall bid you good day.”
Taking a moment to run back through his head everything Delancre had said to make sure he had understood it all, Kyle licked his lips. If he walked out, that’d be it. No more rewards or contacts ready as a back up if he ever needed it. He’d go back to Cole and be totally dependent on him. “What type of compromise we talking about?”
The smile on Delancre’s face was open and friendly, but inside he was smirking. Oh yes, he had this little demon in the palm of his hand now. “Oh, nothing terrible, I assure you. Simply what you stated – that your targets be the ones we choose for you. While it’s admirable to kill any vampire, there are times when the order in which it’s done is important. Why kill individual hunters when there are organised gangs out there? We have the resources to pinpoint these nests, allowing you to annihilate vampires wholesale.”
He paused, pinching his lower lip between thumb and forefinger. “Of course… there are full members of the Council who are quite capable of achieving such ends themselves. While additional assistance is helpful…” Delancre trailed off as he studied Kyle, seeming to be considering something. In actuality, he was letting his words have their desired effect on Kyle, drawing him to an inevitable conclusion.
“Yes,” Ambrose stated firmly, “I think we could hire you on retainer, but of course I would need to ensure that you are fully capable of undertaking this task. I understand you’ve been a vampire hunter for some time, and Mr Moore tells me you acquitted yourself admirably last month despite the large numbers. Still… they were mere fledglings, and it may be necessary to send you on more arduous missions. Perhaps… Yes, I think it would be a good idea to have one of my top warriors assess you one-on-one. A friendly sparring match, as it were. Agreed?”
Kyle smiled. “Sure, if that’s what it takes. Those vamps weren’t nothing. Who do I have to kill?”
*****
Tash stood on the side of the training field and watched with interest as one of Delancre’s biggest, toughest demons came to the centre of the grassy area. The call had gone out just a few minutes ago that there was to be a challenge, and while the preparations continued around her Tash leaned toward Ana and asked quietly, “A challenge?”
Ana flicked her eyes sideways at Tash and repressed a sigh. “Yes,” she said curtly, “If someone wishes to join as a recruit whom Sir Ambrose feels is unworthy, he will test the candidate against our strongest warrior. If he survives, he is permitted to join us.”
The Slayer scratched her shoulder absently. “Or occasionally someone will offend my Lord and if he’s in the right mood instead of punishing them directly he will offer them a chance to wipe the slate clean by proposing a challenge.”
Tash could tell that Ana hadn’t told her everything. There were other reasons for a challenge, and she had the feeling the Slayer knew that neither of her given possibilities were the case today. Despite Ana’s obvious dislike of her, Tash preferred to ask her questions of the Slayer – the girl was far less adept at hiding her thoughts than Delancre was.
Tash’s attention was drawn back to the field, however, at the arrival of the challenger. She recognised the demon she’d noticed earlier in the corridor, and wondered if the poor bastard knew what he was letting himself in for.
Kyle eyed the demon as he headed towards it. Big. Tough. Mean. *Delancre never said this would be easy.* And it certainly didn’t look like it. The demon was huge, titanic even, adorned with horns and spikes. *Probably poisonous,* Kyle guessed.
At least there was one advantage on his side. Well, probably two. The demon didn’t know what he was capable of, and such a huge creature must be slow. He would have to be quick and deadly. *I can do that.*
Stepping closer to the demon, Kyle noted the onlookers forming into a crowd. Glancing towards the mansion, he imagined he could see Delancre, Moore and who knew how many others watching from the windows.
*Let’s give them something to look at, then.* He let his inner fire come forth and shifted to his demon form. A ripple of surprise and approval ran through the crowed.
Then the fists started flying.
Tash watched breathlessly as the fight raged. It was apparent early on that the fire demon had anticipated sluggishness from his opponent, but she’d fought with Ghakim by her side and knew that despite his size he was lightning fast. However, the fire demon recovered quickly from his surprise and his tail inflicted some nasty burns on Ghakim’s hide. The duel continued to the cries and roars of the gathered crowd as the minutes stretched on, until finally both combatants began to slow as exhaustion set in.
The blows came less and less frequently until with one mighty effort the fire demon felled Ghakim, but not before the behemoth delivered his own coup de grâce. Stretchers appeared and servitors bundled the two unmoving forms onto them, carrying the warriors to the infirmary. Breaking free from the dispersing crowd Tash followed the stretchers, hoping to learn why the fire demon had agreed to such a gruelling test.
Oscat and Draon both looked uncomfortable when she appeared in the room where they’d taken the fire demon, but she refused to be ushered out. She ignored them as they bustled around tending to their charge, instead sitting beside the bed to watch as the fire demon awoke.
“So, was your prize worth the price you just paid for it?” she asked as soon as his eyes focused on her.
At first Kyle was startled at his surroundings and didn’t answer the strange woman. He bolted upright, realised he was in some sort of hospital, and things started coming together. The two… doctors? Call them doctors – pushed him back down and continued patching him up. Not gently, though.
“I guess I won, then?” he asked the woman, dodging her question as he wondered what she was doing there and checked himself out. *All limbs intact… good. Head still attached… very good.*
Tash smiled. “Not exactly. Let’s just say you didn’t lose. Against Ghakim that’s no mean feat. My name’s Tash, by the way. And you don’t strike me as the eager army recruit type, Mr…”
One of the medics lifted his arm to take a blood sample, for poison testing or some such Kyle assumed. “No, I’m not,” Kyle answered, conveniently stepping aside his name. “I’m… well, let’s just say I’ll be doing some freelance work for Delancre.” His brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t it be freestake? I mean, I don’t actually use a lance.” He could only put his ramblings down to the painkillers that must be coursing through his system and the mild concussion he must surely have.
“Freestake,” Tash chuckled, “I’ll have to remember that one. So let me guess – rather than join Delancre’s little army out there you want to play mercenary. But he told you he wanted a test of your ‘worthiness’.”
Draon bowed to her, “Madam, we are finished tending his wounds, but he needs rest. Please, I ask you to come away with us now.”
Tash turned to regard Draon, who dropped his eyes to the floor. All the house demons behaved that way and at first it had disconcerted Tash, but she was becoming accustomed to it now. “No, Draon. You and Oscat may leave, but I will stay for a while. I promise,” she continued at Draon’s stricken look, “that I won’t tire him out with too many questions.”
The two demons shared worried glances at each other, then backed from the room and closed the door. Tash sighed and turned back to the fire demon. “So, worthiness test,” she said to remind him of her conjecturing, “Am I close?”
“Spot on. Second one, in fact,” Kyle answered, then paused in thought. “But why are you here? So far the only humans I’ve seen are Moore and Delancre. What’s your deal?” *And what’s your interest in me?*
Tash cast her senses out as far as they would reach. No sense of anyone behind the door, or nearby at all. Satisfied that nobody was listening, Tash leaned toward the demon and quietly answered his unspoken question. “You’re about to start working for Delancre, but you won’t be tied to his apron strings in quite the same way as most of the demons here. I’m an independent hunter myself, and I had to pass my own version of his little test to stay here, but like you I don’t have to answer to Delancre. I’m just saying to keep your eyes and ears open, and keep your wits about you.”
Not knowing enough about the demon – who hadn’t even volunteered his name yet – to trust him, Tash refrained from giving a clearer warning. If he was Delancre’s stoolie then what she’d said could easily be passed off as good general advice.
*’Keep your eyes and ears open’? You don’t have to tell me that, lady.* The comment made Kyle smile.
“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m here for the vampires, and the money.” At length, he decided to tell her his name. If she was also working for Delancre, there couldn’t be much harm. “Name’s Kyle. You, uh, wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette would you? I seem to have left mine outside in pools of my blood.”
Shaking her head sadly, Tash said, “No, sorry, I don’t smoke. But if I don’t get out of here and let your rest soon poor Draon will have a heart attack. Just remember what I said. And don’t worry – Delancre has the antidotes to all his poison demons. You’ll be fine.”
She stood and regarded the fire demon thoughtfully for a moment. If he remained free of whatever it was that made the other demons so loyal to Delancre, Tash began to think that it might be possible to gather her own supporters within the organisation. Until now, it had looked like a futile task.
Smiling broadly she said, “I’ll see if I can find some cigarettes for you. I’m very pleased to have met you, Kyle. Rest up, and I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, right back atcha,” Kyle said, already wondering how quickly he could get out of the bed. He hated hospitals. They made him feel… weak. *As soon as possible.* Then all he’d have to do is find a reason for this Tash woman’s sudden interest in him.
*****
“Yes? Report,” Delancre ordered.
Draon bowed, his long fingers almost scraping the floor. “My Lord, we have obtained the samples from the demon Kyle. His DNA will soon be available for use.”
“Good, very good,” Ambrose purred. “And he will heal well?”
“Oh yes, my Lord. He sustained severe injuries, but we gave him the best healing formulas, as ordered. He will be functional again very soon.”
Delancre nodded, pleased. “Anything else of note?”
Draon visibly paled, but stoically recounted, “Only that the woman Natasha was with him, asking questions and talking to him. I… we had to leave and so I only know part of what was said. I’m terribly sorry, my Lord, I tried to get her to come away, but-”
“Never mind,” Delancre interrupted, stopping Draon’s panicked flow. The demon relaxed at his master’s indulgent tone. “I’m sure she learned little of interest from him. After all, he knows less than she does.”
Draon stood silently in the middle of the room as Delancre fell into thought. For his part, Delancre was more perturbed by the servant’s news than he had let on. Natasha’s indoctrination was beginning to veer from the path he’d anticipated, although the break-up of the White Hats had pushed her to his camp even faster than he’d hoped. Since then everything had gone smoothly, but now it appeared she was attempting to gather personal allies – even bringing them to him as she had with Alice yesterday. Still, little good it could do her, Delancre thought as he gazed out the window at his army. Those demons were all fiercely loyal to him. Natasha would never sway them. However, it wouldn’t hurt to minimise her possible contact with the demon Kyle.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***April 18th, 9:25 am***
Longwood Estate
Alessa waited just a minute after Oz left the kitchen before following Cole. She still couldn’t quite understand what had happened, and she wanted to talk to the kid without the outsiders around. Unfortunately, she’d really believed Oz, and the magic Cole had attempted to perform wasn’t the good kind; she didn’t know much about magic but she knew enough to realize that. Alessa sighed. That could only mean that Cole had been following some dangerous paths.
She guided herself by ear, easily following Cole’s suffocated sobs to the library. Softly entering the room, she saw the boy slumped in one of the huge leather sofas, near the fireplace. The sofa was so big that Cole seemed even frailer in its depths. Alessa looked at him warmly, hesitating at the threshold - this was Cole here, anything that was going wrong with the boy, they would find a way to to solve together.
“Go away,” the boy said, not even turning to see; he knew the demoness was there.
Ignoring his order, Alessa stepped into the room, and made her way in front of him. “Cole, it’s ok.”
“Ok? OK? Do I look ok? he said, pointing at his now swollen, blue lip. As another sob shook his body, he turned his head, and tried to wipe the tears away. How could Alessa have taken his side? The man punched him, and she took his side!
Alessa crouched beside Cole and took his chin gently, tilting his head to inspect his lip. It wasn’t so bad - at least it hadn’t affected his teeth. She smiled and sat beside him. “You’ll live. You’ve gone through much worse,” she said, trying to dismiss the wound, although she knew he wasn’t really talking about his lip. He felt betrayed and she felt guilty. A bad combination.
“What Oz did… he had no excuse to hit you-” She took his hand and squeezed it, going on before he could interrupt her, “But you aren’t completely innocent either, are you? You admitted hurting him, Cole, and you were about to use dark magic too, I could feel it.”
*So what?* he thought bitterly. *So what if I was? What would it change? The world would be less one insignificant man who no one would miss.* The boy’s eyes squinted as he leaned back into the plush couch. *What a horrible thing to think.* He didn’t want to kill anyone, that was not like him, or was it? Vince was dead, and it was by his hand, or magic rather.
“I don’t know why I did it,” he said, trying to interrupt the dark thoughts that were brewing in his mind. “Things are just so weird these days you know.” The sobs had stopped, and he was managing to speak clearly again. “But I still don’t like him, and for his sake he better stay clear of me.”
Enter Hyde virus, stage right.
Alessa looked at him. He seemed so lost and alone, putting up a brave face and big words to protect himself, and she just loved him. She leaned forward and hugged him.
Cole’s body tensed at first, fighting her, but she just kept on hugging until he relaxed in her arms, leaning his head on her shoulder. Alessa felt tears rise in her eyes as well. Cole was the only link to her past that she wasn’t about to sever, and she wanted him to understand it.
“He won’t, Cole, and you don’t have to like everybody. However, I wouldn’t like you killing my employees, you know?” she half teased.
The boy started to chuckle through the sobs that, to his dismay, had returned. “Ok, ok, I won’t be cremating any of the help, even if they do have it coming to them.”
Finally pulling away from her comforting embrace, he rose to his feet and walked to the door, but stopped and turned back to face Alessa. “I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***April 12th, 2007- Hollywood Hills- 11:30 am- FLASHBACK***
“Lord Delancre, your 11:30 appointment has arrived… Mrs. Calendar?” a frail, pale woman said softly, yet loudly enough for Delancre to hear.
He was busy gazing out his window in his plush chair as he replied, “Send her in.”
The woman removed herself from the door, and in walked Gwen Saracens-Calendar, her thin frame moving towards the First Elder’s desk. Her ebony hair was pulled back in an attempt to look nice, which stood out from her lilac dress. Delancre turned his chair about and smiled. She was pretty, and that was all he thought of her.
“Mrs. Calendar, please have a seat,” he said politely, Gwen following his orders. She sat up straight and crossed her legs and smiled. Delancre cuffed his hands on the oak desk and continued, “What brings me the pleasure of seeing you today, Mrs. Calendar?”
Gwen fidgeted a little, before she spoke in her proper American accent, “Sir, I am but a gypsy girl, coming from the Gitano people of Southern France, the same as your mother…”
Delancre nodded and merely said, “Continue.”
“The Gitano always look after each other, and I have come for your help. My husband, Sergei, is from the Kalderash of Romania, and he grew up with his cousin, Adriana, who became like a sister to him.
“For some reason, she’s seemed to have disappeared. We can’t locate her; even Dominika, her sister who lives here, can’t find her. She means so much to Sergei and the Kalderash in general. She’s to take over the clan once it’s her time. I beg you, sir, to please help me,” Gwen explained, not dawdling on details and being straight to the point.
Delancre pondered her problem with different emotions about it. He felt insulted by her. She seemed to view him as charity, that he would immediately help her. Gwen also brought up his gypsy blood, something that he was both embarrassed and disgusted by. However, it would gain him the alliance of the Kalderash gypsies if he did so. But after some more consideration, he felt it better for him not to associate with them. It would tarnish his good reputation.
“I’m most sorry for this, but I’m afraid I cannot help you, Mrs. Calendar. We are quite busy at the moment, but I send my condolences towards her family-” He began when Gwen could no longer take it, and interrupted violently.
“Do you know who I am? I am Gwenalle Saracens-Calendar, daughter of Christophe Saracens! The Saracens are respected all over Europe, and I refuse to be blown off like some schmuck!”
Delancre was taken aback by the small woman. He refused to be spoken to like that, and this woman had pushed his good graces too far.
“Your welcome is over-stayed, Mrs. Calendar. My assistant will show you out. Good day,” he said through his teeth, eyeing Gwen with an intense hatred.
Gwen rose from her seat and faced the door, huffing along, and shouting, “Don’t bother!”
She slammed the door behind her, giving a short vibration off. Delancre’s breaths were long and harsh, his nostrils flaring. After a moment, he cooled himself down. The First Elder thought over the contents of the meeting. *She said her father was Christophe Saracens…* He had heard of him before.
Christophe Saracens was the CEO and owner of Saracens and Co., a major shipping and ship-building industry. He had only one child, and apparently that one child was Gwen. Delancre leaned back into his chair, and thought for a bit, twiddling his thumbs. *Maybe I can have some use of that girl after all…*
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***April 12th, 2007- Hollywood Hills- 3:15 pm- FLASHBACK***
“Mr. Bing, Mr. Cutterback, it’s so good to see you two again!”
Delancre shook the two men’s hands and smiled widely. They were considerably young, seeming to be around their mid thirties. The men were outwardly plain, both with short, dull brown hair flat against their heads. Both wore identical thin framed glasses that sat upon their rounded noses. Their suits were navy blue, hand tailored in Wales. With the exception of their facial features, the men were the ultimate corporate idealistic role model.
The First Elder gestured towards two empty chairs, presumably very expensive ones. He was proud of these men; they were his prodigies. The two men caught his attention back in 1989, when he was reviewing the new recruits. They stuck out, despite being extremely plain boys, and Delancre willingly took them under his wing, teaching them all that he knew and driving complete loyalty to him.
“We are honored to be in your presence again, my Lord,” Mr. Cutterback said to him, great respect in his voice.
Delancre continued to smile as he sat upright in his chair. He cleared his throat for a moment and continued, “It has been over a month since I last saw you two. I take it you have been carrying out your instructions?”
Both men nodded as Mr. Bing replied, “But of course, my Lord. We have followed every instruction you have given to the best of our abilities. Also, Mr. Cutterback and I have already covered at least one third of the list you have given to us.”
Delancre chuckled, a bit in awe, as Mr. Cutterback handed him a slightly thick stack of papers from his dull black briefcase. The First Elder glanced at the papers, murmuring the contents aloud, “Black Widows wicca cult leader in Holland- Agreed without hesitation; Voodoo woman in New Orleans- Hyde 232 injection, recheck soon; Gypsy head in Romania- Hyde 232 injection, recheck soon; Albanian warlock- Agreed without hesitation; Tibetan medicine man- Refused and suicide shortly afterwards, preventing Hyde 232 injection…”
He looked up, and nodded in approval. “Not bad. But so many injections? How were you able to do it without them reacting?” the First Elder questioned.
The men smiled wickedly. Mr. Cutterback replied, “With a trick we learned from you, my Lord. Before approaching them, we made sure to check every one of their histories. With that, we merely used a disturbing memory from their past as a distraction, usually done by Mr. Bing. I actually perform the injection. They didn’t know what hit them, my Lord.”
Delancre chuckled lowly to himself. “I have taught you better than I had believed. Well done. The last thing we need is for some small time nobody to pop up and ruin everything. I've worked too hard on these goals...” he told them, pleased with their work.
A knock soon came from the door, to which Delancre announced, “Enter.”
It was his assistant, who was grasping tightly to a sheet of paper as she walked in. He thanked her as she handed it to him, and she left as quickly as she came in.
Delancre scrolled his eyes across the paper and emitted a small groan. Mr. Bing and Mr. Cutterback looked upon their leader with concerned faces and both asked, “What troubles you, my lord?”
The First Elder shook his head and replied to his faithful toadies, “It seems that our little ‘friend’ Father Jarek has made his way into the United States, hiding in some convent. It seems to be an extremely clever one, since we aren’t able to locate which one it is.”
Mr. Bing perked up. “We will locate him for you, my Lord. That is, if you will assign us to the task…” he suggested.
Delancre thought about this. They were his best non-fighters, and it would be wise to leave this into their hands. His thoughts stumbled upon Gwen, and how he could easily acquire her.
“Gentlemen, I have a proposition for you two. It’s below your level, but I’m offering it to you anyway,” he began.
Both men nodded, allowing Mr. Cutterback to reply, “Anything for you, my Lord. We have pledged our full devotion.”
Delancre smiled. “Excellent.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***April 18th, 2007- Manhattan- 6:45 pm***
Sergei slugged down the hall of his apartment building, his feet dragging along. Within the past five days he only had about fifteen hours of sleep, tops. Adriana being missing was worrying him, and he began to show signs of it. Bags had formed around his eyes and, to make it worse, he’d volunteered for overtime just to keep his mind distracted.
He approached his apartment door and searched his pockets for his keys. Gwen wasn’t home; he knew she was at the doctor’s for a routine check-up. Finally, Sergei pulled them out and went through them, looking for the correct one. A creak in the hall was the only other sound heard, causing Sergei to turn away from his door.
The young gypsy looked both ways of the hallway, eyeing them closely. “Who’s there?” he called out, waiting for a reply. It did not come. Sighing, Sergei turned back to his apartment door.
As he was beginning to unlock it, Sergei felt a tight grip on his shoulder. Before he knew it he was whipped around, a man in his late sixties standing there, clearly of European descent. He was thin and pale with a large hooked nose. Prickles of gray hair were sprouting on his chin, a sign that he hadn’t shaved in a few good days.
The man smiled, a gap between his two front teeth showing. He then spoke in a thick Polish accent, “Mister Sergei Calendar. Good to finally meet you.”
Sergei stood in confusion at the man who was a good five inches shorter than him. Suddenly, it dawned on him who this man was.
“Father Jarek?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows.
The aging Polish man chuckled and replied in a low voice, “Very good, my dear boy. But we cannot speak out here. Even the walls have ears…”
Sergei shook his head in disbelief. This was the man that had been sending him all the crazy e-mails for months.
Father Jarek shook Sergei and whispered, “Why are you just standing there like a fool? We must be secluded!”
****
Father Jarek sat up properly at the kitchen table of the Calendar apartment, where Sergei was fixing some tea. The Polish priest was donned in a dark gray trench coat, which covered his classic Catholic priest black clothing. His matching dark gray hat sat on the table, leaving Father Jarek’s graying hair exposed.
Sergei brought the freshly brewed tea to the table and placed it in front of Father Jarek. The aging European picked it up, his long fingers wrapped around the cup as he sipped it. Sergei sat down at the table and focused his gaze on Father Jarek.
“Okay, let’s talk,” he began.
The priest’s blue-gray eyes focused on Sergei’s dark brown ones and he simply replied, “There are many questions that you want to ask me. Pick one and go for it.”
The Lautari moved his eyes to his steaming cup, then back to Father Jarek. He cleared his throat and continued, “Those e-mails… what do they mean? I don’t think that’s from the Bible…”
Father Jarek’s face turned grim as he moved his eyes to his tea. He sighed for a moment, before looking up at Sergei.
“What do you think the prophecy means, my dear boy?” the priest asked quietly.
Sergei groaned and began to rub his temples in small circles. “Why doesn’t anybody give a clear answer any more? It’s gotta be ‘scary prophecy that makes no sense up until the disaster is about to happen, THEN everything comes together’. Jeez Louise!” he professed angrily.
Father Jarek shook his head. “You must learn to read between the lines, my good boy. Everything is not always what it seems…” he said softly.
This only caused Sergei to be even more infuriated.
The Polish man sighed. “Metaphors, my good boy, metaphors!” Father Jarek exclaimed. Sergei looked at him curiously. The priest continued, “My whole prophecy is in metaphors, Mr. Calendar. It was the only way I could safely have you receive the e-mail.”
Sergei shook his head and asked, “So… Lucifer isn’t rising?”
It was Father Jarek’s turn to groan. “Did you not hear a word I just said? Metaphors! Now, let’s think about this,” he began again. Sergei sat and listened intently.
“Lucifer is a representation of all that is evil. We compare him with people sometimes to give an idea of how truly despicable they are.”
”So… this army that is rising… it’s led by a normal guy?” Sergei questioned.
Father Jarek pursed his lips and moved his right hand from side to side, continuing, “Sort of… but you’re on the right track. A person is leading the army, but he is far from a normal person…”
A loud bang emitting from the wall vibrated the apartment, shaking the cups of tea. Father Jarek looked cautiously at the wall, rising from his seat. After a moment of stillness, the Polish man grabbed his hat and darted, as fast as a man his age could, out of the room. Sergei jumped from his seat and followed him.
“Where are you going?” he persisted, now fully agitated. The priest stumbled across the room, his eyes bulging as looked around the room.
“They’re looking for me… they know… they know that I’m here… I must leave…” Jarek rambled, scurrying out the door.
Sergei sighed and looked about his apartment. Regaining his adrenaline, he ran after Father Jarek, closing the door behind and locking it.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***April 18th, 2007- Manhattan- 9:15 pm***
Gwen sat in her living room, leaning back on the soft black leather couch. She was about four months pregnant, and in a month she would be able to find out the sex of her baby. But that’s not what she was concerned about at the moment, despite looking at recent sonograms.
Her failure to persuade Ambrose Delancre to find Adriana hurt her, since Sergei was suffering. He hadn’t been sleeping within the past few days, and this worried Gwen. She didn’t want her husband to be so upset nor have his family missing with the coming of their first child.
Just then, the doorbell of the apartment rang out. Sighing, Gwen stood up, already beginning to show signs of her pregnancy. A little bulge in her white shirt was evident and she was beginning to show the first signs of back pain. She was slowly over to her door, and cracked it, asking in her American accent,
“Can I help you?”
She saw a man standing on the other side of the door . He was dressed in an expensive, black suit. He wore a quite serious grin.
"Miss Saracens?" he said.
Gwen cleared her throat. “Mrs. Calendar. I married a few months before. Who exactly are you?” she questioned, still hiding behind the safety of her door. In New York, no one opened the door fully to someone they didn’t know or trust, and Gwen especially didn’t trust this man.
He putted his hand inside his coat and pulled forth a police badge. "Detective Bing, NYPD," he said and she was a bit surprised at this revelation as well as the fact that he talked with a British accent.
"I’m here to ask a few questions, ma’am," he continued.
Her hazel eyes studied him. Call it a Romani thing, but she never trusted authority. Gwen silently refused to open her door, but answered, “Would it be too much trouble to come tomorrow, when my husband is home? I would much prefer him to be here.”
"No, ma’am, " he answered. "Now would be the best time, since we have heard some rumors from the neighbors that there’s been some sightings of some strange men around here and I would just like to know if you knew anything about it?"
Gwen didn’t know what this man was getting at, but she didn’t want to be bothered. After all, he was a man with a British accent and he worked for the NYPD. Most of the ones she knew came from either Staten Island or Queens.
“I know nothing of it. Please come back tomorrow.” She then proceeded to close the door.
As she was about to close the door she heard the man say, "Well, ma’am if you don’t really know anything about it, you sure have a strange way to show it. It almost seems as if you would be hiding something I would say. Since it wouldn’t take that long time after all, just a few questions and I would be going," he finished.
The Gitano sighed. He was obviously new, so he wouldn’t know about the Calendars’ closeness to some of the force. Besides, it wouldn’t be long, and Sergei would be home soon.
“If it’s only for a short period of time…” she began, opening her door. The man just stood there. He obviously had more manners than the other officers they met, which led her to continue, “Please, come in.”
“Thank you," he said and just as she turned away a grin appeared on his lips as he entered the apartment. As he entered he let his eyes wander through the apartment and then added, "So you’re alone here?"
Gwen sighed and replied, “Unfortunately, yes. All except for this one.” She rubbed her lower stomach, indicating her pregnancy. The Gitano moved toward the coffee table, calling to the detective, “I had a few sonograms done today. No word on the sex of the baby, but the doctor said it’s coming along fine. Just let me clean the table up a bit, then I’ll make something to drink.”
"That won’t be necessary," he said and as he turned his body towards her, he could hear her scream through the apartment and added, "I never drinks while on duty."
Gwen cursed herself inwardly as she screamed. She let her guard down for one moment, and a man with a gun has her at gun point.
But just as she had begun to run she felt an iron hard grip around her arm. She tried desperately to free herself but it was to avail. The man laughed at these attempts and muttered, "Take it easy cutie or else I might break that pretty little arm of yours."
Tears began to flow uncontrollably from her eyes, her mascara running black rivers down her ivory skin. Her hand pressed against her small bulge as she spoke weakly, her voice wavering, “Please, please… don’t hurt my baby, please… this baby means so much to Sergei… please…”
"Relax cutie," he answered to this. "I don’t give a shit about your baby. However, you’re of more relevance."
Gwen rubbed her eyes on the sleeves of her shirt, staining the soft material with the wet black of her mascara. She continued to sniffle, her eyes mimicking that of a raccoon’s. She said quietly, a fearful tone marking her, “What… what would you want with me? I am but a gypsy’s wife. I hold no significance.”
"Well, my Lord thinks so and I feel myself obligated to do whatever he wishes.” As he said this he pulled her closer to him. "And that’s all you need to know."
Gwen looked down again and felt the tears leaking from her eyes again. “Please leave me alone…” she said quietly, holding back impending sobs.
"No, I won’t," he answered. "But don’t worry your pretty little mind about that." As he said these words the man stuck his gun back into his jacket and Gwen could see him get out a towel, which he soon pulled over her mouth.
She tried desperately to breathe and to free herself to resist, but soon the world around her started to fade and she became dizzy. Just before she drifted into oblivion she could hear the man’s voice say, "You’ll only need to worry about whether you have sweet dreams or not…"
Special thanks to Christoffer, as “Detective” Bing
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
April 19th
1:45 pm
The Laughing Dogs
Inés rested her margarita on the table and looked again at the restaurant’s entrance. She had arrived about an hour ago and was waiting for Alessa.
The demoness studied carefully every person who walked into the place, trying to recognize her cousin. It had become a game of theirs, since Alessa’s abilities had started to ‘miraculously’ improve. Inés’ brow furrowed; she still wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad. As much as she welcomed Alessa’s demon side getting stronger, the change was worrisome anyway, especially when it came surrounded by personality changes.
A tall blond woman entered the restaurant and Inés studied her with interest, dismissing her after a moment when a man from a nearby table rose to greet her. She took another sip of her drink and almost jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Gotcha!” said Alessa from behind her, and laughed as she kissed her cousin on the cheek, and slipped into the chair beside her.
Inés smiled and inspected the other’s aspect. She looked very young. Her hair was bleached in stripes and she had a rose tattooed on her forearm. Heavy mascara decorated light blue eyes and her lips were painted a dramatic hue of purple that mirrored her nails. Her plain stomach showed above unbuttoned jeans. All in all she looked like the perfect nasty teenager.
“I’d say thumbs up, Al,” she said approvingly. She had seen the teen access the restaurant about fifteen minutes ago, but after a quick inspection had dismissed her. Alessa’s morphing was tidy, to say the least.
Her cousin nodded graciously, “I have a girl called Chastity to thank, believe it or not.”
“¿Castidad? Mi Dios, and mothers get all worried about names’ meanings.”
“Indeed.” Alessa raised her eyes to the waiter who was patiently waiting for her order. “A Piña Colada, please,” she asked.
“May I see some identification?” the waiter asked, a disapproving look in his eyes, that only deepened when the two women burst into laughter.
“Ok, bring me a coke.” She rolled her eyes, and winked to Inés. “Last time I’m a teenager, let me tell you.”
She waited for the man to bring her the drink before going on. “I’m sorry about I was late, but I had to work later to cover some hours I lost yesterday.” She thought about the reasons behind her tardiness the day before and frowned, but then she smiled. At least Cole was home. “Talking about teens, Cole came to the big house the other night.”
“Missing Cole?” Inés asked. She remembered Darian’s call and Alessa’s distress over the boy’s disappearance. “Is he ok?”
“Well, he was pretty battered up when he got home, which is not surprising since he’s been living on the streets, mostly.” Alessa didn’t tell Inés about the kid living with Vincent. She knew Inés was seeing James regularly, and she didn’t want James on Cole’s tail. “But he’s all right now, gracias a Dios.”
“Did you call Darian?” Inés sip her margarita, smiling at Alessa’s obvious cheerfulness.
Alessa’s eye’s went round with surprise, but then her features hardened coldly. “Why ever for? I won't be calling him.”
“Pero Alessa! The man’s been worried sick over that boy!” Inés spurted, surprised at her cousin’s callousness. “You’ve got to tell him!”
“I don’t have to do anything, Inés, and I won't.”
Alessa’s words held a finality that Inés could hear. Inés sighed and signalled the waiter to order lunch.
"How's Ellis doing?" she asked, changing the topic, without paying much attention to Alessa's unemotional answer. As usual, she wasn’t compromising when talking about her last lover, another hint on her strange behavior. Inés liked Ellis, she liked him much more than she had Chance, to be honest, and she thought he was good for her cousin. But she knew that Alessa wouldn’t be sleeping with another man so soon after Chance death, and being so detached about it if she were being her usual self.
Not for the first time Inés wondered what was happening to her cousin. She just had to do something, Alessa’s attitude was stranger and stranger. She had gotten quite unpredictable, sometimes her usual self, sometimes a spiteful bitch; besides she didn’t talk about Chance any more, and she was having this torrid affair with Ellis… What she could sense of Alessa’s thoughts and emotions without intruding were stormy to say the least, sometimes surprising her with their ferocity. Inés bit her lip; she needed to get to the bottom of this.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 18th April 2007.
The Peninsula Beverley Hills Hotel
8:22am
The previous night’s session with Kate had gone well. She was a remarkable woman, well versed in the magic arts and Marcus was hopeful despite the apparent time constraints she was working under.
It was, however, time to put that out of his mind. Today was for other business. Miss Blaise’s charms had worked as promised and his inspection team had found no significant problems with the old Wolfram and Hart building. That had been three weeks ago and the intervening time had been taken up with negotiations for the sale.
The previous owners had added some interesting clauses to the contract but both his and Onyx’s careful scrutiny had neatly avoided the most onerous of them. The sale of his old family estates in Hong Kong had gone through; real estate on that crowded island was snapped up amazingly quickly and he had sufficient cash to buy the building outright - which would sidestep a number of other particularly pernicious clauses in the contract.
Picking up his watch Marcus checked the clock on the wall and, having decided neither needed adjustment, slipped the watch onto his wrist. Giving his suit one last smooth down he turned and headed for the door, where Onyx was already waiting.
“Good morning Miss Black,” he said with a half smile.
“Mr Dalton,” she nodded in reply. The trip down in the elevator took place in silence and with only a passing nod at the concierge Marcus began walking through the lobby towards where his car waited.
Nikolai buttoned his jacket as he made his way into the Peninsula Hotel. The place was high class enough, and told him one of the things that he needed to know: the particular man he was looking for probably had no need of his money. This was someone they would have to get the help of another way. But with luck the connections of the family would let them be able to come to a satisfactory arrangement.
If nothing else, the fact that they were looking for dirt on the Watchers could serve possibly as an enticement.
When he’d reached the front desk, he’d made straight for the bar, armed with a description of Marcus Dalton. The concierge wasn’t a man who took easily to being bribed unfortunately, something Jimmy found out, which left him to wait silently in the bar. Spotting Dalton making his way for the door, Nikolai paid for the last drink before starting to head over towards him.
“Pardon me,” he said, finally catching up to them in the lobby. “Mr. Dalton? Would it be possible to get a moment of your time?”
As soon as she sensed the approach of this intruder Onyx had moved between him and Marcus. A quick visual check noted the sidearm tucked into a shoulder holster and letting her less mundane senses range over him she was surprised to note the presence of a Xangyarj remnant.
“I’m afraid Mr Dalton is a rather busy man, perhaps if you made an appointment.” Onyx’s voice was quiet and devoid of anything other than the well-mannered tones of an apparent flunky.
While Onyx dealt with this interloper Marcus looked on impassively waiting to see how he would deal with this first difficulty.
Nikolai smiled, though he felt a little frustrated. A brief flare of surprise followed by nothing came from the woman, and from Marcus himself was mild intrigue and a little amusement.
“I understand that,” Nikolai replied steadily. “However, I believe he will be most intrigued by the need we have for his assistance. I’m sure my associates will be most grateful for his aid.”
Well, wasn’t that surprising? Still, such offers were the whole reason he’d moved to L.A. in the first place. However a simple offer of something intriguing wasn’t enough to convince Marrcus to delay his other meetings. He’d need more details and the lobby of a prestigious hotel was not the place to discuss such details.
A careful touch on Onyx’s arm let her know what Marcus wanted. The Xangyarj remnant would make things more difficult but she knew how to practise emptiness. So if she decided he’d become a threat he at least would get no warning.
“This isn’t the place for such offers. Come.” Marcus continued on his way to the car and Onyx remained between him and Nikolai.
“Of course,” Nikolai replied simply, going along with the pair. He idly wondered about the capabilities of the young woman. That she could so readily block his ability to read her told him that she could be safe to discuss business around. As they walked towards the car, he added one final thing. “Just out of curiosity, have you heard any interesting rumours about the Watchers’ Council? My associates and I have.” With luck Marcus would pick up that this was what his services would be used for digging into.
Safely ensconced in the car Marcus settled into the leather. There was no real need for him to do so but he let Onyx continue the discussion anyway. That this concerned the Watchers was intriguing, and gave him cause to be wary. The last time the Watchers had turned their attention to the Daltons the family had been forced to the Far East. No doubt the Council had been chagrined when they realised it had been the making of the family. Such serendipty aside, Marcus wasn’t averse to reminding the Council that the Daltons were far more powerful than they had been.
“Rumours and gossip are not particularly interesting,” Onyx replied to this man’s opening gambit. “If you have something of substance to say I would suggest you come to the point.”
“Ah, but I think you’ll find these rumours very fascinating,” Nikolai replied. “They speak of a facility in Colombia, and of demons disappearing then returning reprogrammed. Surely the possibility of verifying this information is worth a little time.”
Onyx raised her hand to tap on the partition behind the driver but a motion from Marcus stopped her.
“These rumours and their verification are a matter of some concern to you.” Marcus maintained a quiet and even tone. “I’m afraid they hold little interest to me.” They implication was clear: engage his interest or the audience was over.
“They are of greater concern to my employer,” Nikolai noted, not quite ready to get out as of yet. “All we require is a simple speaking with a man who suffered something of an accident, Mr. Dalton. Such a matter would be exceedingly simple for a man of your skills, and we would consider it a personal favour. Surely with our connections there must be something we could do for you in return.”
Well that similtaneously clarified matters and obscured them. Who did this man work for? Onyx was still responding to him as a potential threat so he was obviously armed… or a demon. The most likely candidate was a hunter society of some description but Ulle was licking its wounds over some conflict and Turaka had been quiet as well. That left a number of second tier organisations, none of which could realistically challenge the Council.
“You raise an interesting point but evaluating it without further information is difficult. Meddling in Council business can be like prodding a sleeping tiger. This unfortunate accident victim was no doubt connected with them. What guarantees can your employer give me that he can deal with the consequences of his actions?”
Nikolai didn’t want to mention his name, but saw that he had no choice in the matter. “Mr. Gromyoko does not abandon people who do favours for him,” he replied, which was certainly true. “The Council wouldn’t dare start a war with the family, not when the reason for that war came out. All the other families would line up against them to protect their more demonic members.” Which was only partly true, Dmitri certainly would try to turn the entire underworld against them, but without the evidence he’d never be able to do it.
“Ah…” Russian organised crime, if the name was any indicator. They certainly had the muscle to match the Council, Slayer or not and their ‘connections’ would be valuble. Marcus was used to dealing with organised crime from the various Tongs, Triads and occasional Yakuza floating around the Hong Kong underworld.
He would have to locate where a few of the bodies were buried, if only for his own piece of mind. His wealth and position didn’t make him unassailable and though criminals had their own sense of honour he was used to being a perennial outsider with such organisations and would take appropriate precautions
Marcus thought for a moment: raising someone newly deceased was a relatively simple matter. It would not take much in terms of time or effort, and on the other hand a connection to organised crime was useful especially with a ‘debt’, no matter how minor, hanging over their head.
“Well I’m sure you can tell Mr. Gromyoko I’d be happy to deal with this matter for him.”
“He will be happy to hear that,” Nikolai said. “Just tell me when and where, and we can do whatever is necessary.” He wasn’t about to give over the information that was needed to know who he had to raise, not without being there. Some precautions were still a good idea.
Signing the contracts would take up most of the morning and he had another training session that evening with Miss Elridge. Still, this afternoon was free and he had no other pressing engagements.
“I will need to be in presence of the body. This afternoon, around three o’clock?”
*****
Peterson’s body was mangled enough to hardly be recognizable. The feet and knees were clearly busted up fairly well, and a single bullet hole sat in the centre of his forehead. Nikolai and Jimmy rather unceremoniously dropped the body on the floor for Marcus to work with. “An accident,” Nikolai assured him. “His gun went off while he was cleaning it. Very tragic.”
Marcus didn’t even acknowledge Nikolai’s attempt at humour. Instead he put on a pair of gloves and turned the body over. Most of the back of the skull was missing. It didn’t matter to his gift one way or the other but Marcus disliked mess.
Stepping back he pulled of the gloves with a snap and passed his hand over the body. “Rise, Allen Peterson.”
The bullet hole in the forehead irised shut while flesh and bone flowed to covered the destruction of the skull. The sharp cracks of bones resetting announced the repair of fingers, knees and feet, until with a shudder a harsh sound of pain erupted from the dead Watcher’s lips.
Allen Peterson, but for the fact he drew no breath, stood before Marcus apparently alive and well. Marcus turned from the zombie to Nikolai. “So what is it you need to know?”
Nikolai stood there impassively, despite a bit of inner disgust at the whole process. It didn’t look pleasant, but as far as he was concerned, Peterson deserved it. The fool should have talked the first time. Jimmy looked ready to vomit. “How the hell can you just watch that?”
Shrugging his shoulders, he considered what they already knew about Peterson. There was the facility in Colombia where Alessa had been, and the demoness having her mate picked up, Peterson involved. “Let’s start with how he came to LA. Where did he come from and who with.”
“Hmmm. It seems The Council have started taking precautions. Give me a moment.” Peterson’s corpse staggered for a moment, then steadied itself. “He’s dead so that makes him mine. Amateurs. A fumble fingered apprentice could do better.”
There was a flare of light around the animated body and Marcus smiled. “Now shall we start again? Peterson, answer the man’s questions would you?”
The zombie turned to face the mafiosi and began to speak.
“We came from Colombia,” Peterson said. “Just a group of us, guards.”
Nikolai frowned. It wasn’t a lie, it was a response to what he asked, but he still had some wiggle room. Still a guard could tell him a lot depending on what he’d seen. “Tell me about where you were in Colombia. Who owns the facility?”
“Stevenson Corporation.”
“A front for the Council?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Who runs the facility?”
“I never heard his name. Just that he worked for Stevenson.”
Nikolai considered this carefully. They’d obviously have to look into the company, assuming the guards had been given accurate information. It would be simple to just lie to them in order to prevent just this sort of enquiry. “Did you ever see a man named Ambrose Delancre at the facility?”
“No, never.”
*Damn.* That was one thing that Nikolai wished he’d been able to confirm. To directly tie Delancre to the ‘renegade’ group would give him serious ‘I told you so’ rights with Tash. “And the demon you kidnapped? Where is he and what are your plans for him?”
“I don’t know, exactly, but he’s been sent to the facility. They do some kind of training and conditioning there.”
For a moment, Nikolai considered more questions. Then he figured that he probably couldn’t get more information. Still, he had the name of a corporation now, and more things that he could speak to Alessa about. She might remember what was going on there if he asked her.
“Thank you,” he said, turning to Marcus, “I think he’s given us all we can get for now.”
“As you wish.” Marcus made another pass through the air. “You are dismissed.” All Marcus’ careful repairs unravelled and Peterson’s bloody and mangled corpse sprawled to the ground.
“Well Mr Andreievich, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. Give my regards to your employer.” Marcus motioned Onyx to him and turned to leave.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
20 April 2007
Gromyoko Jewellers
9:45pm
Nikolai walked into the back door of the store, slipping a twenty into the pocket of the guard there just for holding the door open. There were some things you did in the culture, and that seemed to be one of them. Especially when it was a big night. After they’d got the first information, it was time to begin hunting down more.
Jimmy waited at a table, looking ragged and tired. Nikolai resolved to let the man get some rest, they were driving everyone extra hard but he didn’t need people collapsing on him. “Hey, Andropov,” he called out, using Nikolai’s street name.
“Jimmy,” he replied, smiling and walking over to him. Jimmy poured out a drink and handed it to him. “Have we got any other information?”
“Not much,” Jimmy said, looking nervous. “Just something interesting. Apparently a couple of guys in the Council own stock in the Stevenson Corporation?”
“Why should that be important?”
“Because Stevenson owns a facility large enough in Colombia to be used for training, and it just happens to be out of the way,” Jimmy pointed out. Nikolai thought the man looked quite pleased at himself to have found this information. No doubt it provided yet another piece of the puzzle.
But it was particularly interesting to Nikolai for another reason. Stevenson owned a facility in Colombia. It could be connected to Delancre, but he wasn’t sure. “You have a list of names?” Nikolai asked.
Jimmy nodded, handing him a folded up piece of paper. Nikolai opened it up, took a look at it to make sure he gave him the right one – no way was he going to risk getting Jimmy’s shopping list again – then put it in his jacket. “I’ll see if we can connect any of them to Delancre.”
Which would only be part of the task. They would also have to find some way to be sure that the Stevenson facility was, in fact, the same one being run by the ‘renegades’ in the Council. The say-so of one dead guard wouldn’t be enough to convince anyone. Then again Nikolai doubted that any of Delancre’s men would be foolish enough to use their real names for this, which meant that they were probably being referred to people who had no idea at all about what was going on.
Nikolai looked at Jimmy carefully; the man seemed slightly distracted. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s your friend, Trigger,” he started, after a bit of hesitation. Jimmy held up his hand in sort of an “OK” gesture and looked away some as he continued to speak. “I know I probably shouldn’t say anything, but last night...”
“Last night, what?” Nikolai asked. He really didn’t like where this was going, or the feelings of worry around Jimmy.
“It’s nothing, forget I said anything.”
“Jimmy, tell me. If it’s something I should know…”
“Well, ok, so we’re at this meeting with Hothead Drake. He’s there with-”
“Wait a minute,” Nikolai interrupted. “Hothead Drake? What is that prick doing here?”
“That’s exactly what Trigger said, with that language,” Jimmy said. “As you can imagine, Hothead was a little less than impressed to have Trigger busting his balls.”
“I don’t think there are many people who would be impressed by Trigger busting their balls.”
“Be that as it may, some very harsh words were said, and I think Trigger is going to do something rash,” Jimmy pointed out.
Nikolai considered this for a moment. With the way he said rash, he could figure out exactly what he meant. And word was that Drake worked for one of the big Italian families, and they regarded Dmitri as someone they were always a little suspicious of. If one of their made men got whacked… “I will be dipped in shit.”
“Tell me about it,” Jimmy said.
“You know what this could mean, right?”
“Yeah, maybe a fuckin’ war, if Trigger does something. And if he doesn’t, that damn fool Hothead is going to, then someone will hit his ass back…”
Nikolai sighed. He hated to do it, but… “There’s only one thing to do, then.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday, 20th April 2007 – 1:05am
Somewhere in Los Angeles
Ana stood poised, head up and back straight as she watched Tash despatch the final vampire of the night’s hunt. Even with the dust settling the Slayer didn’t relax, instead surveying the four demon bodies that surrounded her. There had been more vampires in this nest than their information had led them to believe, and the fight was close, but Ana hadn’t once wavered in her conviction that she would be victorious. She watched Tash walk towards her, blood dripping down one arm, and nodded.
“Good work,” she said curtly, reaching out to inspect Tash’s damaged arm, “But you need a bandage on that. Time to get back, anyway.”
As Ana rounded up the remaining troops, Tash gazed at the bodies of the four fallen warriors before her and the faint germ of an idea began to stir in the back of her mind. She rolled her shoulder, trying to ease the sting of her slashed arm, and followed after the Slayer. These weren’t exactly the right conditions in which to think clearly – she needed to ponder this once she was at home and in the quiet.
1:45am – Delancre’s LA Mansion
Ana made her way through the long passageways of the house until she reached the laboratories in the north wing. In her hand she clutched a glass slide smeared with bright red blood. Stalking into the room, she placed the slide face up on a bench beside a harried near-human looking biologist.
He glanced at the sample and commented, “This is three days late.”
Ana sniffed. “Well, the silly woman just hasn’t been getting herself hurt much lately. I made sure she was in the thick of more than she could handle tonight, though.” She nodded to the glass slide. “Ensure Sir Ambrose gets the results with his breakfast,” she demanded before sweeping from the room.
7:35am – Delancre’s Breakfast Room
Ambrose Delancre sighed contentedly. There was nothing quite like a hearty breakfast after a night of pleasure such as he’d had with Idari, the Mandal demon he’d had sent to his chambers the previous evening. He replayed the events in his mind: the way she’d come in, shy and uncertain. It was the demoness’ first visit to his bed and he’d delighted in her fear. But when he had ordered her to pleasure him she had been too hesitant and in a fit of fury he’d flung her to the floor and begun to beat her with one of the whips arrayed on his walls.
Her cries of pain had only fuelled his desire and once she was cowering before him, beaten and bloody, he’d restated his demands, and this time she complied fully. He felt a stirring again just thinking about it, and decided that he would have her sent to him again tonight. Her tears and pain had been almost as stimulating as the sex itself. He sipped his tea and smiled at the prospect of another such encounter with Idari.
The sunlight streaming through the window was blocked and Delancre glanced up to see who had intruded on his morning repast. “Yes?” he asked sharply.
The researcher bowed low, holding a sheet of paper before him like a shield. “Your Lordship, Miss Graziani brought me a fresh sample last night, and I have the results for your perusal.”
“Oh yes?” Delancre asked, his interest piqued. “It’s been a few days since the last – were your projections accurate?” His tone implied that they if they hadn’t been, things might not go so well for the scientist.
“Yes, my Lord,” he said nervously, holding the report out for Delancre, “The test on Miss Brookes’ blood shows conclusively that she now has 100% saturation of Hyde 232 in her system. I believe the slow take up of the initial infection six weeks ago was due to her strong immune system and relatively low mana levels. She’s merely a psychic after all, not a true mage.”
Delancre glanced at the figures before putting the paper down beside his breakfast tray. “Excellent. Thank you, you may go.”
The demon biologist scurried away, off to get some well-earned sleep, while Delancre smiled broadly out the window. “I think I shall invite Miss Brookes to pay me a visit before this afternoon’s meeting,” he said – to no one in particular, but moments later a servant placed a telephone in his hands.
8:50am – Delancre’s Study
“Ah, Natasha, do come in,” Delancre welcomed warmly when Tash appeared on the threshold of his study. “How’s the arm? Feeling all right, I trust?”
“It’s fine,” Tash shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad, really, just a scratch.” Though that ‘scratch’ had taken half an hour to stop bleeding and it still ached a little even after she’d wrapped it up. “So what’s so important you dragged me out of bed at eight o’clock in the morning?”
“Sit down,” Ambrose said, “It’s time for you to know certain things.”
“Oh?” Tash settled in her usual chair and made herself comfortable. Before Delancre could ask, she said, “No thanks, I’ve just had coffee. I don’t need anything to drink.”
Smiling indulgently, Delancre leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers. “Very well, then. I shall get right to the point, as you Americans like to say. I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you until now, but I’m sure you can understand the need for caution in this day and age. I needed to be certain you were completely trustworthy before I revealed my methods to you – and I believe you have amply demonstrated that quality.”
Tash felt a twinge of uncertainty, wondering how she’d missed any lies – she’d been careful to read everything the man had said, and it had come through as truth. She decided to wait and see what he had to tell her. Maybe he hadn’t kept that much from her. Delancre had paused, apparently expecting her to say something, so she gave him what he wanted. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your confidence in me.”
“Of course you do. Now, you’re aware that by far the majority of my troops are demons or half breeds, and I know you were wondering how I had managed to recruit so many. Demons are, after all, not generally known for their willingness to follow orders – unless they are so weak as to be useless as warriors. Tell me, what was your impression of my methods?”
Feeling stupid, Tash had to admit, “I had been wondering about it, but everything I saw agreed with what you told me initially. That you had recruiters out looking, people like Moore, who found the sorts of demons who might be interested in joining your cause, and that they are all volunteers. I admit, I questioned that and did ask some of the demons – both the soldiers and the servants – why they’d come, but all said that they liked working here and that they were well treated. How far from the truth is all that, then?”
Delancre was almost gloating by now. He was pleased that he’d been able to so effectively pull the wool over the eyes of this psychic. So much for her much-vaunted powers. “You’ve been in the vampire hunting business for many years now, Natasha, and I know you’re well aware there are times when one must bend the rules a little in order to achieve the greater good. It’s clear that a demon makes a much better warrior than a mere human, but as we’ve noted most demons are reluctant to fight against their own kind. However, I have discovered a way to ensure a demon’s loyalty. A combination of drugs, thought conditioning, sensory deprivation, magic and certain pain techniques has helped to produce an army capable of taking on even the most fearsome evil.”
He paused again, to gauge Tash’s reaction, but she merely nodded slowly, taking it all in. “Go on,” she prodded.
Delancre smiled. It was as he expected – no outrage from the woman as she took his statements on board. Good. “And then, of course, there are the demons themselves. Not all of them have exactly the traits we would desire in our warriors. And so for many years now I’ve been developing better warriors, taking the best traits from various demon races and sometimes human elements, and creating an army that’s diverse, powerful and most importantly, loyal.”
Tash could feel her ire growing, but still held it in check. “And how did you alter them? Did you use magic, or simply chopped them into bits and sewed them back together?” she asked, keeping her voice casual.
“A combination of both, as well as some genetic manipulation. I use the DNA of selected demons to bolster the capabilities of my soldiers. You must agree, the results have been quite staggering.”
“Oh, yes, very,” Tash said, managing somehow not to grit her teeth. That he’d been able to hide all this from her was infuriating. How could she have been so blind? She glared at Delancre’s aura and opened up her mind to delve inside the man. She’d not done this to him, trusting her reading of his surface thoughts, and now she was kicking herself. Sure enough, there beneath the first few layers was a second level. Delancre’s real thoughts and feelings that he hid expertly behind a mask of… of whatever he wanted it to be, it seemed.
*Oh, you fucking bastard!* she thought furiously, to be snapped from her dark thoughts by Delancre’s dry chuckle.
“Come now, Miss Brookes. Don’t be so conceited as to think you’re the only person in the world with powers. I’m afraid a degree of duplicity was required in order to bring you fully on board with this. You’re too valuable an asset for me to have risked alienating you in the early stages – I needed you to see the good we do here so you could appreciate the necessity of our methods.”
Tash smiled, “I have no trouble with your methods. In fact, I think it’s brilliant. You’re right – it makes fighting the evil so much easier when there’s a force such as you have here. I mean, let’s face it – ultimately most of the demons you’ve placed in your army would have been the ones we ended up fighting anyway. It’s much better that they’re put to good use.”
“Exactly. So many in the Watchers’ Council just wouldn’t have understood. I’m so glad we’re on the same wavelength.”
Tash mused for a moment. “You know, I’m sure you’re aware that Alice is unique in this world – her DNA would be most valuable to you, would it not?”
Ambrose’s eyes gleamed. “Indeed it would. As would Alice herself – and you have so kindly delivered her to me.”
“Happy to help. But she’s a wary one – it would be hard for you to get her under your thrall, I’m thinking. But she trusts me; I’m her friend. At the very least I can obtain a DNA sample from her, probably far easier than any of your people could.”
Positively beaming now, Delancre nodded. “That would be most beneficial. Yes, I would dearly love to receive such a sample from you. When can you arrange it?”
Tash’s smile was fierce. “As soon as I see her next.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***April 18th, 2007- Manhattan- 10:30 pm***
Sergei dragged his feet down the hall, utterly tired. His hand traced the surface of the walls, keeping his balance. He had been looking for four hours for Father Jarek. Not just to talk to him, but to keep his mind distracted.
The young gypsy approached his door, laying his hand on the cold brass knob. He stood only for a moment when he noticed that there was something strange going on. The door was unlocked. No one in New York ever left their door unlocked, even if they were inside.
Sergei opened the door slowly, half because he was tired and half because of the unexpected. Before him lay an empty apartment, which surprised him. *Gwen must be home, her appointment was not too long ago…* His thought was confirmed when he saw sonograms covering the coffee table. He walked over and knelt down, picking up a few of them. Sergei smiled at the progress of his baby, before he got up to look for his wife.
He walked around, looking around calling out, “Gwen! Gwen?” Sergei had reached the kitchen , and was about to sit down when he saw a short and simple note on the table. He picked up the paper, which read:
Gwenalle Saracens-Calendar is currently in our possession. As long as her father, Christophe Saracens, co-operates with us, she won’t be hurt.
It was unsigned, which only worried Sergei more. A terrible feeling overcame the deepest part of his stomach, sending him urges to throw up. But he held back, and only sat down. He rested his head on the table, and fought the oncoming tears, that would later try to surface over and over…
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Father Kuber's Prayers are answered
Friday, 20th April 2007 - evening
"Praise the lord who protects us from evil," the minister prayed.
He clutched his bible tightly and the small congregation rattled their rosary beads and prayed. A nun moved quietly among the frightened group offering solace and comfort. "Deliver us aid in our hour of need!" The minister raised his hands to the sky.
The door of the church blew open and a cold wind made the lit candles flicker and dance. Two of the men from the parish rushed to close the door but before they could a tweed-wearing man in a bowler cap and a lively-looking young blonde woman in puffy gold pants and a midriff-baring embroidered vest and pink veil strolled in.
"Delivery for you, Reverend," she said.
"Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen," said the tweed-clad man, "I am Mr. Cups, and this lovely creature is Miss Pentacles and we are here because of your hour of need. Sister, I have need of your gentle ministrations first. Please accompany my associate to the vestibule where she shall begin by explaining our requirements. The rest of you please wait and relax. We are on a tight schedule here and we don't have time to dilly-dally."
The silence was deafening. Everyone including the priest stood rooted their places, eyes wide and mouths agape. Cups shook his head and sighed, "Miss Pentacles if you could help the good Sister along. Nobody appreciates a good preamble these days."
Pentacles hopped once, folded her arms and blinked before dejectedly walking forward and jerking the nun towards the back room. "Your wish is my command," she said with no small amount of sass.
Cups just strolled down the aisle and admired the fine antique wood and fittings. *A fine parish,* he thought, *A long shot at best, but a striking bit of irony if it proves adequate.*
The minister stepped forward and placed his hand on Cups' arm, "Are you here to save us? There are at least eleven of them out there! How can the two of you hope to defeat them?"
Cups smiled and the minister took his hand back and unconsciously wiped it on his frock. Mr. Cups turned and faced the group. "I am sorry if you misunderstood. We are not here to save any of you. I am here to test you. I am here to find out if any of you have that special something that would make a difference in the world. As for Miss Pentacles…"
He turned to see the habit-wearing Pentacles walk out of the back room, "I have faith that I can do something about the vampires out there."
The garment was less than stylish. The gold cross around her neck and the rosary wrapped around her wrist exposing only her fine-boned face made her look almost like a rendition of the Virgin Mary. But suddenly her true nature asserted itself.
The habit became glossy and tightened around her wasp waist and the floor-dragging hem rose, exposing fishnet-clad legs and black stiletto heels. The cross became tightly strapped laces on a breast-augmenting bustier and the rosary beads on her hand extended into a trail of lacy gauze around her arms.
She looked down at the outfit and smiled in approval. "This is much better," she said admiringly. She did a little pirouette for Mr. Cups, "How do you like it?" she asked.
Cups tipped his hat towards her, "Heavenly."
Cups walked over to the altar where he gently removed the bible and placed his own tools on the table. They were malevolent-looking stainless steel things with sharp edges and pointy bits. The priest began to shudder and protest. Cups ignored his bleatings until ending them with a meathook through the minister's jaw.
Dragging the thrashing body onto the altar table Mr. Cups methodically opened up the minister as the congregation gasped in horror. "Let's see if all of the blood and flesh of Christ you have consumed has left any traces, shall we?"
Pentacles had just cleared the back of the church by barricading the door behind her. Cries of terror rang out behind her giving her a warm feeling. "Sorry, it is impolite to leave before the service is complete."
"Please help us!" a woman cried at Pentacles' feet.
Miss Pentacles gave her a swift kick in the face, sending her back to crumple against a pew in a lump. Cups looked up over the blood-covered body of the priest. "Is she dead?" he asked.
Pentacles leaned over, "No, she's still breathing."
Cups nodded, "You are aware that you don't get paid for them like I do."
Pentacles put her hand together in an aspect of prayer then folded her fingers down leaving a single digit erect, "I answer to a higher authority, Mr. Cups. I know my job."
Cups chuckled at the woman's cheekiness. She was so much more entertaining than his first partner, Mr. Swords.
Cups pushed the body off the altar in disgust. "How disappointing. Not even a little paedophilia or drinking the sacraments out of turn. Nothing."
Pentacles looked up from her latest amusement, "Not even indulgences, that is strange. Then again I told you this was going to be a dry hole."
Pentacles glanced down at the offering plate she was holding towards the young couple. She picked up the paper that had been laid in it. She waved it in their faces furiously. "No checks! Weren't you listening?"
She crumpled the check and started to toss it aside, then changed her mind. She smoothed it out, carefully tore off the signature part of the check, folded it neatly and stuck it in her bustier. She smiled at the couple before sticking her tongue out at them.
Cups had dragged the naked and bound nun onto the altar. He called to Miss Cups who sauntered up to the bloodied altar. He handed her a bloody ruler. "I found this in the back. It seemed appropriate."
Pentacles held the ruler like a stake, jabbed a few times and smiled. "I thought they didn't use these any more, Mr. Cups."
"What, nuns, Miss Pentacles?"
"No, Mr. Cups. Rulers."
"They haven't quite broken the habit, Miss Pentacles."
"That was horrible, Mr. Cups, just horrible." [WHACK] "I was going to say that!"
One of the parishioners decided to try to make a break for it. He smashed one of the stained glass windows and tried to run across the graveyard. Mr. Cups looked exasperated. "That is most troublesome. Could you retrieve that for me, Miss Pentacles?"
Pentacles looked out the open window and grinned. The vampires had already run the man down and were feeding on him joyously. "Don't worry, Mr. Cups. In a few minutes he will be one of mine."
"Clearly he was mine when we entered this establishment, Miss Pentacles."
"There is nothing left, Mr Cups."
The argument was growing quite heated.
"He's a vampire, now anyway. He's mine. Besides, once he's risen he gets another personality and everything. He's like a newborn person." She paused for a moment and considered. "If he hasn't done anything, how can he be evil, Mr.Cups?"
"Miss Pentacles, they are blood sucking demons that have no souls."
"We don't know that they don't actually have souls, do we, Mr. Cups?"
"They most certainly do not, Miss Pentacles. I am an expert in such things. These are definitely your responsibility."
"Mr. Cups, aren't you even willing to entertain the possibility that these undead are unredeemable from the moment of their conception?"
"Miss Pentacles, you know as well as I do that such things, while regrettable, are also immutable and that the loss of one's soul is a case for immediate damnation."
"Mr. Cups, you don't need to sermon me, I was just having you on."
"Miss Pentacles, you are one evil bitch."
[whack] "Language, Mr. Cups, and yes, I know."
There is a lot of debate about souls and the attachments to their bodies. Many scholars suggest that souls "wait" in the particular faith's limbo. Others believe that each soul is moved on to their next body or reincarnation. One such account was documented in Tibbin's 50 Fun Facts of Fantasy. Account number thirty-six. The man in question one Herrem Haraboobo was killed and turned by a vampire. After his "reincarnation" and some past-life regression, Mr. Haraboobo met his former body and was killed again. Something can be said in favor of waiting.
Mr. Cups went back to his work, and Miss Pentacles waited. For another five minutes she waited then she went out through the window. It was looking like far too much fun out there, and the vampires were calling to her.
"Whoah, hot babe alarm. Woo-hoo!" came a voice from the dark graveyard. The suited vampire walked forward, "Seems we have a nun who thinks she is a bad-girl."
Pentacles hopped down from the narrow window to the finely manicured grass. "I am not bad at all, you misanthrope. I am the best damn thing you've ever seen - and the last."
Pentacles quickly stabbed the ruler thought the vampire's heart. As the dust cleared Miss. Pentacles kicked her stiletto heel into the throat of the next vampire and forced it to ground. She stood atop it keeping it pinned as she continued her assault. "If you remain still I will save you till last."
Even after her offer the vampire tried to wiggle and free itself. Miss Pentacles ripped her heel back and forth, tearing the vamp's head from its body. "I did warn you."
Next a small group of six tried jumping the golden haired nun including two who were still children, although full vampires. After some whacked hands and foreheads Miss Pentacles dispatched them just as easily as if they were flies.
The remaining three vampires stared hard at the deadly nun. One of them stepped forward and roared at her.
"Cleanliness is close to godliness, you know. Which explains why you stink to high heavens. A little water wouldn't hurt you."
The vampire charged forward and Pentacles raised her ruler to stake him, but he blocked the strike. He looked smug so Pentacles pressed the cross hanging from the rosary on her other hand onto his forehead. The sizzle of flesh made the vampire stagger back from her. She smiled at him sweetly and pushed forward. The vampire deftly dodged her blows and blocked others. Finally she held up a hand as if to gain quarter.
The vampire sneered and tried to press the advantage. She angrily stabbed him through the chest. "I was asking for a break so I could un-wedgie my panties you goon!" she raged at the pile of dust.
She stalked back to the remaining two, muttering under her breath. "Who's next?" she inquired.
Both vamps looked at each other and she shook her head in frustration. "It's not too much to ask to have a smart one once in a while is it?" she said to no-one in particular.
She stepped forward and staked the one on the right and lifted the one on the left with her free hand. She could see tendrils of smoke leaking from under her hand on its neck.
"Fore!" she cheered and flung the body at the church but she misjudged the point of impact and the body smashed through the window and landed in the font of holy water. Pentacles put her hands over her mouth in shock. *Damn. A hole in one and a water trap. Mr. Cups will be furious.*
The vampire exploded into flame and the antique hangings and old dry wood wasted no time in igniting. In mere minutes the church was engulfed in flame. Pentacles stood and rocked back and forth on her stiletto heels and watched the old building burn.
A timber collapsed and opened a hole in the side of the structure. From inside the raging inferno stepped Mr. Cups. He brushed off the ash that clung to his suit despite his efforts to remove it. "You have destroyed the building, Miss Pentacles. What sort of real estate agents would we be if we continuously did this?"
Cups removed his bowler and brushed at it a few times before replacing it. Miss Pentacles looked sheepish, "I'm sorry, Mr. Cups, but this is no place to be cross any more."
Cups almost groaned. Sometimes the 'bons mots' were strained. "It was a moot point anyway since there wasn't anything I could find there after all."
"I told you so."
"Miss Pentacles, don't be petty. What is next on our list?"
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday, 20th April 2007 – 2:20pm
The Watchers’ Council LA Headquarters
Blazing speakers pounded solid vibrations throughout the entire car, woofers thundering in the boot. The death metal stomped out any other sound as Reah rolled slowly up the gravel path to the looming gates ahead. She didn’t spare much thought or care to the severe contrast it had with their tranquil surroundings. Nor did she for the effect it was having on her accompanying passenger.
Sparing a casual glance across her shoulder to Darian who was clearly put off by the abusive noise, Reah flashed a wicked smirk that didn’t touch her eyes before turning back to the path ahead, one hand lazily resting on the wheel as she rolled to a stop behind Tash who was now talking into an intercom. She didn’t doubt that even Tash could feel the heavy vibrations pounding from the car. This wasn’t the original music she’d had playing. In fact it was only Linkin Park that was on prior to this and she’d merely switched the discs over out of spite. Little, petty things like that often amused her. And Darian would learn not to mess with her music in her car again, especially while she was driving.
Having identified herself and her guests, and waiting the few seconds it took for the voice on the other end of the intercom to confirm that they were expected, Tash watched the gates open majestically and revved her motorbike again to proceed slowly up the long, white gravel driveway. Her chest pounded with the beat from Reah’s subwoofers behind her, and she grinned. She was sure they’d be able to hear that – or at least feel it – in the house by now. If she cared one whit about Delancre she might have asked Reah to turn it down, but frankly Tash was pleased at any opportunity to throw the pompous man off-guard. And if it were Reah who’d get the blame for it rather than her, even better.
Soon the small convoy reached the house, its white walls throwing the afternoon sunlight back in their faces and making the mansion appear as if it were made of glowing crystal. Vaulting from her bike, Tash leaned it against a column as she always did, while Reah parked the Skyline on the edge of the grass, making a deep furrow in the manicured lawn. Silence descended like a blanket as Reah switched her engine off, and Tash heard a distinct ringing in her ears. She felt sorry for Darian, who’d been trapped inside the metal box of the car with that level of noise.
“Well, here we are,” she said as the pair emerged from the car, Reah wearing a cheeky grin and Darian holding the side of his head as though in some discomfort. Tash smiled indulgently at him before motioning to the door. “This way.”
The door was already open as Tash ascended the stairs, and she accepted the servant’s bow as she stepped into the plush carpet of the hallway. Barely stopping to allow Reah and Darian to take in the extravagant décor she motioned for them to follow her. “This way,” she repeated.
Reah eyed her new surroundings with a speculative eyebrow as they passed what seemed would provide endless hours of looting fun! Not that Reah cared much for it. Too gaudy and old fashioned for her tastes. Following Tash, she watched a few of the liveried servants as they passed by every now and again. She pitied those types of people, waiting hand on foot on another to do their bidding, regardless of its nature. It actually near sickened her. Reah sniffed: it was probably one of the reasons why she always held people like this Delancre in such contempt. *Poncy assed poncers.*
"Almost there," Tash said, laughing. "You get used to the long passageways after a while. Just be glad we're going to the study first and not the barracks - they're miles away!"
As she finished speaking she stopped outside a door. The guard before it bowed deeply and rapped on the door, opening it when Delancre's rich baritone called out "Enter," from within. Tash strode through the door and stood before Delancre, who sat behind his desk gazing intently at the two she'd brought with her.
Before she had a chance to speak, he rose and extended a hand to Reah, "Good afternoon. Miss Kossinton, I presume. I am the Lord Ambrose William Bryce Delancre III, Earl of Romney and First Elder of the Watchers’ Council. Charmed to make your acquaintance, I'm sure," he said as he delicately kissed the back of Reah's hand.
Reah raised an eyebrow at the man. *My god, I never thought it possible, but this guy’s a bigger wanker than Ian!* She had to suppress a wry smirk and kept her face serious.
Delancre let go of Reah's hand and turned his attention to Darian. "And you must be Mr Gray. Please, won't you all sit down. Would anyone like some refreshments?"
Without waiting for a response he snapped his fingers, ordering tea from the servant who appeared an instant later. "Anything else?" he asked the room at large, "Or is tea sufficient?"
Darian nodded to the servant, “Tea’s fine, thank you,” and proceeded to turn his attention back to the imposing man before them.
Ambrose Delancre, the First Elder; it had been a long time since the fae was in the presence of such an influential individual. Usually he was never comfortable around those types, but this man was different. He projected an air of sincerity and honesty. *Maybe the Watchers’ Council really will make a difference with this man at the head,* Darian thought hopefully.
“Got any VB in a stubby, Ambrose?” Reah smiled, directing her query to Delancre. “My apologies, but you don’t mind me calling you Ambrose, do you?”
Delancre paused only marginally at the gross familiarity, his eyes flickering over Reah’s form before he turned smoothly to the servant and said, “And some beer for the lady.”
Smiling back at Reah, he inclined his head, “I’m sorry, but we don’t carry ‘VB’ on the premises, but I do believe we have a fine selection of German beers. Perhaps some Ayinger Altbayrisch Dunkel will suit your taste.”
He shifted his gaze slightly. “Natasha?”
Tash shook her head, as usual. It was her practice not to take a drink in Delancre’s presence, but it never stopped the man from asking. “Not today, Delancre,” she said, settling more comfortably in her seat. “But I’m sure Reah and Darian are eager to hear about the new-look Watchers’ Council from someone other than me. It is, after all, why they’re here.”
And with what Tash knew now, she knew she could no longer speak of it directly without running a risk. As it was, she’d have to work hard to keep Darian, at least, from sensing that Delancre’s words weren’t telling the whole story. Schooling her thoughts and reactions carefully, Tash concentrated on keeping herself still and centred as Delancre dismissed the servant with a flick of his wrist.
Reah had to keep herself from snarling at the man’s dismissive treatment of the servant, no matter how nice he seemed. Instead she inclined her own head, smiling, dropping herself into the nearest seat and elegantly crossing her legs then resting cupped hands on her knees. “Please,” she gestured absently with her hand, “I’ve been most curious about your operation these past few weeks. Enlighten me!”
“I’m sure Natasha has filled you in on most of it by now,” Delancre began, “so I shall keep it brief and then show you the training grounds, if you like.” He smiled and continued, “The Slayer is here, but she is no longer alone. Where before the Watchers’ Council would send a girl out by herself to take on the countless denizens of the night, I have instituted some reforms into our methods so that now she is accompanied by a cadre of fierce warriors who will fight by her side, aiding her in her destiny.”
He nodded towards Tash, “I had of course heard of the group of people in Los Angeles who were battling the evils of this world on an almost daily basis, and so it seemed only natural that we should combine our resources to better serve our common goal. Unfortunately, it seems that your group has suffered some internal setbacks lately, but Miss Brookes has kindly been venturing out with my Slayer and assisting in that manner. It appears also that some members of your group have been behaving quite strangely. I myself was witness to Miss Blaise’s change of character, and I am bending all my efforts to finding out the cause.”
Delancre’s smile grew sad, “Of course, such things take time. But on a happier note, it would appear that some of the White Hats, such as yourselves and the delightful Alicenoko, whom I met the other day for the first time, are now re-entering the spirit of solidarity that has marked your group from the beginning.”
Gazing at Reah and Darian, he asked, “Is there anything you’re unclear on? I’m more than happy to answer any questions you may have.”
“I have a question,” Darian piped up, “It’s really great that the Watchers’ Council has come to LA to help fight the good fight, but my question is why? The city is already filled with a handful of capable protectors; wouldn’t it make more sense for you guys to help in other, more needy cities?”
Delancre smiled and explained slowly, as though he were addressing a child. Darian’s question had struck too close to his hidden agenda, and he wished to shame the young man into thinking he’d asked a stupid question.
“Because the Watchers’ Council, among other things, has an extensive prophecy department. It came to the Council’s attention that this city was to be the nexus for a great calamity to come to pass, and it was felt that as capable as the White Hats are – or were – that it would be sensible to ensure that adequate forces were here to prevent this occurrence.” Delancre’s smile deepened as he thought on how accurate that prophecy was going to turn out to be.
Reah inclined her head with lips pursed thoughtfully. As much as she was amused by Delancre’s patronising tone – patronising Darian was always fun – she couldn’t help her stomach grating and had to keep herself from abusively interrogating him over the reason for his smile. She didn’t like his pompous attitude one bit and would find it rather a lot more amusing if his head spontaneously exploded right there!
But of course, that wasn’t going to win anyone over. Not like Delancre’s glowing charm. Instead Reah nodded, switching her legs over and letting out a long, even breath as the tea and beer finally arrived. Graciously accepting her drink, she resumed her own charming smile and raised a toast. “So, when do we get to meet these forces?”
“Right now, if you like. Though I do recommend you finish the tea first,” he said, leaning towards Darian, “It’s the finest Darjeeling you’ll find outside India.” Taking a sip from his own cup, he sighed in contentment as the hot liquid warmed his throat.
Darian glanced at his and took a sip. Yeah, it was nice, but he was starting to feel restless – especially after Delancre’s put-down of what he’d thought was a reasonable question. “Uh, I’m not really that thirsty,” he said, glancing at Reah who sat looking as though she were relaxing at a friend’s house, having disdained the glass for simply sucking her beer directly from the bottle. Receiving no cue from her Darian shrugged, “I’d kinda like to see around now, I guess.”
Delancre took several more sips of his tea while Tash stood with Reah and Darian. He made the trio wait a few long moments before he finally placed his cup on the saucer with a sigh. “You really are missing a fine tea, young man.” Casting a disparaging glance at Reah, who’d taken her bottle and was still sucking noisily at its neck, Ambrose rose and gestured towards the door. “Natasha, if you’ll lead the way?”
Tash shrugged her assent, opening the study door to let the strange procession out into the labyrinthine hallways again. Taking them through several turns, Tash led them out onto the training grounds while Delancre talked. It was, Tash mused, something the man was very good at.
“Our training facilities include the outdoor arena you are about to see,” he explained, “as well as several specialised rooms designed to maximise our troops’ potential. At this time of day the Slayer is often drilling them, honing their reflexes and building their teamwork skills – as you can see.”
Delancre strode through the doorway after Tash, and turned to see Reah and Darian’s reactions to the spacious grounds they’d been taken to. Row upon row of demonic forms stood in perfect lines, executing their drills in machine-like precision. A young girl with dark hair stood before them, calling out orders and watching their performance with a hawk-like gaze.
Reah couldn’t help her cynical smile at the oddness of the scene presented before them. She took a long look at the girl - the Slayer - drilling the demons and couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of loss over the last Slayer she’d known. She remembered promising to go skateboarding with Ellie, once upon a time. This girl looked as though the concept of fun would be lost on her, and Reah doubted she’d survive very long should she ever be on her own. Probably too reliant on her demon forces.
Darian tried to repress a slight shudder at the sight of the young girl; he hadn’t had the best luck with the last Slayer… “Come on, kitten, these sexcapades aren’t nearly as much fun if you’re not into it,” the Slayer vampire laughed as she unzipped Darian’s already torn pants… *Yeah, not the best luck.*
“What’s her name, again?” Reah asked, tipping the bottle’s mouth in the Slayer’s general direction.
“Why don’t I introduce you?” Delancre replied, before turning to the field and raising his voice enough to carry. “Ana.”
Without so much as a flicker of the Slayer’s eyes, she issued a command to the demons that brought them standing to attention in their rows, ramrod stiff. Then she let them relax slightly and left them to stride directly to the group of four.
Reaching them, she bowed her head, “My Lord.” She turned her gaze to Tash, "I hope the arm is feeling better this morning."
Ana's smile was odd, but Tash spoke as though she hadn't noticed, "Much better, thanks."
“Ana, I would like to introduce you to two more of Natasha’s friends. The lovely young lady,” Delancre’s emphasis on the word was so slight most normal people would have missed it, “is Reanna Kossinton, and the young gentleman here,” said without sarcasm this time, “is Darian Gray.”
Ana nodded to each in turn. "Pleased to meet you.”
"And this," Delancre’s voice took on a measure of fatherly pride, "is Anabella Graziani, possibly the greatest Slayer the world has ever seen."
Reah had to keep from snorting at that. It took a fair amount of effort to keep herself from making a multitude of sarcastic comments, but restrain herself once more she did.
“Well,” she started with only the slightest patronising tone hinted at in her voice. “I’m sure that makes you feel special, doesn’t it?” she said, giving Ana a playful punch in the arm. Reah could tell this girl was going to end up hating her for that, but the thought only made her smile.
The fae smiled sheepishly at the young girl standing before him. *She doesn’t look as crazy as the last one,* he noted with a small amount of relief.
Ana maintained her haughty stance, gazing down her nose at Reah. It didn’t surprise her that one of Natasha’s friends would be so coarse and uncouth. After all, Natasha herself showed little respect for the Slayer’s station. Ana intended for her to pay for that, when the time came. But Sir Ambrose had schooled her in how far she could go with these supposed ‘White Hats’ and so she kept her temper in check.
“It’s hard not to feel special when I am the Chosen One,” she explained patiently to Reah, “especially when I was trained by a Watcher as powerful as Lord Delancre.” After a beat, she asked, “Would the pair of you like to see a demonstration of the warriors’ prowess?”
*Have a bit of ‘fig jam’, would you?* Reah very nearly slipped that time and had to press her lips together, covering it up as mere thoughtfulness rather than amusement at the girl’s own brand of ponciness. “Why the hell not!” Reah grinned devilishly and had to keep herself from scoffing. “Clearly the ‘greatest Slayer the world has ever seen’ would be something well worth seeing. Go slay his ass,” she pointed at the largest demon she could see, then frowned. “… assuming he has one.”
Ana lifted her chin slightly. “Very well, if you prefer to simply watch. Though since she is one of our own soldiers I won’t actually ‘slay’ her, as you so quaintly put it.” Her eyes fell on Darian and she let a smile soften her face ever so slightly. “I’m sure you’ll feel safer if you step back a little. You don’t look much like the fighter type to me. Your role in the group is what? Mage?”
“Mage, what, huh? …Oh, no,” Darian mumbled, taken a little off guard that the Slayer had turned her attention to him. A second later, it dawned on him that her comment was rather insulting. “You know, you would think a little girl with big super powers would not be fooled by appearances,” he retorted back. “I’m actually part faery,” he said puffing out his large chest, “Although that doesn’t sound very fear inspiring, does it?”
Ana’s laughter tinkled out over the grounds. “Yes, naturally I already knew you were part fae,” she said, “which was why I imagined you were more at home with tree magic than fighting. Still,” she continued before Darian could think of anything else to say, “I believe I have a demon to take on.”
Delancre moved forward, placing a hand gently on Ana’s arm. “Acutally, my dear, it would seem that Ms Kossinton is looking keen to beat something to a bloody pulp about now.” He smiled at Reah disarmingly. “I’ve heard interesting things about you and I must confess I’m curious to see you in action.”
Left out of the loop, Darian could only splutter in the background. “I can fight, too,” he began, but Tash placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him.
“Next time, I think. It looks like Delancre’s got his eyes set on Reah for now,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances later to impress the Slayer,” she winked.
*I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp,* Reah mentally grumbled at Delancre, but kept her outward appearance courteous, giving him a slight nod of acceptance before raising her eyes back to his. “You’re sure about that, Ambrose?” She turned her unnerving smile over to Ana, “She has such a pretty face. Or did you mean one of your demon lackeys?” The last was said with only a hint of disappointment in her voice.
Delancre blinked once before saying, “I had meant the demon that you pointed out, but if Ana is willing…?”
He turned his eyes to the Slayer, who nodded with a glint of fierce joy in her eyes.
“Well, then,” Delancre continued, “it seems rather than a demonstration of our demon forces, we’ll have a demonstration of your prowess against the Slayer.” He gestured to the centre of the arena, “Whenever you are ready.”
From behind Delancre, Tash tried to signal Reah with her eyes, but Reah was studiously ignoring her veiled warnings. *Ah well, I’m sure Ana will stop short of killing her, at least,* Tash thought. And when the time came to take down Ana, it would help to know just how close Reah could come to defeating her. Tash relaxed, deciding to simply watch the fight and enjoy it.
A wicked grin crooked the edge of Reah’s mouth and she inclined her head to Ana, making a mental note to keep her claws out of the game. For one, they weren’t fighting to kill. And secondly, she didn’t want these guys privy to all her little secrets, just in case they one day were fighting to the death.
“After you,” she insisted, gesturing for the girl to lead.
Delancre watched with pride as his Slayer stalked to the middle of the arena, but mostly he kept his eyes on Reanna. Natasha had told him of the woman’s enhancements, but frankly he thought they’d been exaggerated. The claws were most likely just a slip-on weapon that Reanna wore on occasion – though when he glanced down to look at her hands all he could see were the woman’s strange, fingerless gloves. It gave him pause - he could understand Natasha wearing gloves constantly, but wondered why Reanna wore them on this warm spring day, if she weren’t hiding something. He made a mental note to find out whether Natasha’s description had been accurate or not.
As for the rest of the description he’d heard – well, enhanced vision was hard to assess on a bright, sunny day. But the strength and reflexes that Natasha had spoken of would soon be put to the test. The two women were now circling each other, waiting for an opening.
Ana was the first to strike, lunging in for a swift offence she’d clearly expected to break through her opponent’s defence without complication, but sharp reflexes were quick to answer. Pivoting out of Ana’s blow to her open offside, Reah’s lithe body flowed languidly through every step as she twisted a clean back kick into the Slayer’s kidneys, knocking her off balance into a forward dive to the ground. Ana was back up on her feet without pause and Reah’s senses honed in on the air of their surroundings as she grinned into her challenger’s flashing eyes. Clearly Ana had underestimated her abilities. Obviously she wouldn’t be doing so again.
After a moment’s breath the attack was on again, only this time the openings the Slayer left her were few and far between. Reah found her mind jumping from blow to blow like a kangaroo on E and tried to ease it, but her efforts were strained as each blow Ana rained on her was driven with such power and precision that she just couldn’t match them, at least not without killing her, which was all she’d been doing lately!
Reah managed a few blows here and there, but the odds weren’t in her favour. There was a brief moment of satisfaction when Ana came to strike a defining kick to her head but was pained in her efforts when Reah’s forearm deftly flew up to block, a sharp ‘crack’ resounding across the arena as she struck Ana’s shin. Nothing fractured, but the shock gave Reah a big enough opening to open her own assault. It didn’t last long, however, before Ana managed to come back again with a vengeance.
For her part, Ana was working harder than she’d had to for a long time just to keep up with Reah’s blindingly fast twists, turns, and blows. She found herself digging into her deepest Slayer reserves to batter at the woman, who obstinately refused to go down. Her shin throbbed where her kick had been blocked, and she wondered what Reah had up her sleeve – a metal pipe, perhaps? It certainly felt like it. But supernatural ability slowly won out over Reah’s supercharged reflexes, and finally – after far too much time, in Ana’s opinion – she found herself standing over the prone body of her opponent.
With a grudging respect, Ana held her hand out to Reah, offering her a hand back up to her feet. “I am impressed,” she said. “You lasted much longer than most.”
Pushing herself up on her elbow, Reah grinned down at the ground to steady her vision, working her jaw slightly before turning her eyes up to meet Ana’s and spotting her hand. That was the first time she’d ever fought a Slayer, and the first fight in a long time that wasn’t fuelled by looming death. It was… refreshing – in a painful way. In either matter, however, she couldn’t wipe the grin off her face as she accepted Ana’s hand up to her feet, hopping slightly before she fully straightened.
Offering her own hand back this time in a proper hand shake, Reah spoke genuinely, “I must say, I’m gratified to have had this pleasure. More so if you really are what Ambrose believes.” There, that was true enough. Reah smiled, inclining her head once again before heading back towards their audience of three, a slight limp in her left leg. *Best fun I’ve had in a long time.*
Darian eyed the Slayer speculatively, having witnessed her take down one of the toughest fighters he’d seen in a long time. Watching Reah limp back to them, he thought, *Ok, glad I didn’t volunteer to go first.*
“Well now,” Delancre said smoothly, “that was most interesting, Ms Kossinton. I can see that Natasha didn’t necessarily overstate the case when she said you were fast and strong. It’s not often a mere human puts my Ana through such a rigorous workout. I can see why Natasha described you as such an asset to the White Hats.”
With a sweeping gesture Delancre encompassed the entire area, keeping his eyes on Reah and Darian. “And now that you’ve seen how efficiently Ana fights, I’m sure you can appreciate the quality of the training these troops have received. No doubt Natasha can regale you with many stories of her nights out on patrol with them. She has been training with us now for some time, and recently your friend Alice has visited and agreed to join in our sessions. Our facilities are available to all the current members of the White Hats who choose to use them.”
Reah’s smile was easier to hold since what she could only describe as her revitalising fight. Mention of Alice’s name sparked her attention like an exploding firework and her smile slowly slipped into a more sombre façade as the mere mention of the demoness’ name always brought back memories of her time in the 2060’s, but she nodded as though thoughtful to Delancre’s words.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Reah said simply in response to his offer, neither accepting nor declining. She had no intentions of fixing herself into any hidden agenda he may have – she knew first hand the quality of the training, but felt no need to take it up; despite her losing, she felt she hadn’t fared too badly! All training with them would do was alert them to her strengths, weaknesses and secrets. Something she couldn’t afford to do. “I’d look forward to keeping our communications open for future benefit.”
Showing neither disappointment nor relief at Reah’s words, Delancre merely nodded his acknowledgment of them. Turning to Darian he asked, “And you?”
His eyes darting between Delancre, Reah, Tash, Ana, and the rows of demons still standing motionless in the arena, Darian smiled wanly and said, “I think I’ll stick to my own workout schedule for now, but thanks for the offer. I’ll make sure to keep it in mind.”
“Very well. Ana, you may return to your duties. Unless you have any other questions, I will ask Natasha to show you out.” Smiling broadly, he added, “I’m sure you appreciate that a man in my position has many demands on his time.”
Tash led Reah and Darian back through the house to the front door and Reah’s car, murmuring to them as they set foot on the gravel driveway. “See, I told you he was a pompous arsehole. But,” she added with a grin, “he’s a pompous arsehole with a great fighting force.”
Nodding, Reah cast a short glance back over Tash’s shoulder to the elaborate house, lips pursed thoughtfully. When she finally spoke it was with a level of calm. “Keep me posted. I’ll probably be back.”
“Good,” Tash smiled. The smile soon turned to a wince of sympathy for poor Darian, however, as seconds after Reah turned the car around the loud, heavy beat thumped out from the vehicle again.
Shaking her head, Tash walked back inside the house.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, April 18th, 2007 - 14:42
“C minus!?” Quin hushed aghast as she gaped at the red markings on her test sheet. This was just unacceptable. She’d turned up to every class hadn’t she? Surely that was worth at least 50% credit, having to endure sitting through these long, arduous classes in such mundane surroundings and resources not even suitable enough for an baby eating, axe wielding, chainsaw masochist!
… At least in her opinion.
Leaning across from the seat next to her, Chastity rubbed into Quin’s shoulder in attempt to snatch a glance at her friend’s paper while holding her own at distance. “Wha’did ya get?”
“Nothing.” Quin swiftly turned the paper face down on the desk, quashing her friend’s attempts of sticky-beaking.
“Did ya get a C minus?”
“It’s bloody ridiculous! Doesn’t turning up to the classes mean anything to these people?” Quin frowned over at her friend’s quiet chuckles.
“Yeah,” Chastity very unsuccessfully hid her amused grin. “You’d think, hey?”
Quin didn’t even bother trying to hide her spiteful glare before asking after a moment’s pause. “Well, what did you get?”
“D plus,” she grinned. “A valiant effort if I don’t say so myself!”
“Yes, congratulations on your fine achievement,” Quin sniffed.
The two girls sat there for a few more moments in silence, reflecting on their test papers as the teacher continued on his droning lecture over the students’ most common downfall points in the revision and how the correct answers were to be achieved. Quin’s contempt-filled eyes slid off her mark to the weedy man before them, his hair thinned beyond help and poorly covered up in a greasy attempt at a comb-over that put even his thick-rimmed glasses to shame.
Chastity had leant back earlier in the class to comment to another student, Gavin, on the teacher’s latest cardigan: a lovely evergreen number complete with white snowdrops. Quin hadn’t been able to stop her own little smirk at the shared joke. The man was a complete and utter disgrace to the race of men. It wouldn’t surprise her in the slightest if the only sexual encounter the man had ever experienced involved himself, some lubricant, and a plastic sheep. Anything else had to be very well remunerated.
The school bell rang out while Quin absently tapped her B2 pencil on the edge of the desk, pensively eying the lecturer.
“Quin?” Chastity nudged the girl from her daze with an expectant look. Greg was already at the door waiting, albeit impatiently.
“You go ahead,” Quin said, dismissing them with a vague gesture of her hand. “I’ve got to see Mr. Tote about my mark. Reah’s going to otherwise have me for dinner.”
Chastity shrugged with a smile. “Whatever dude. Catch’ya tomorrow, yeah? Hey, Franca!” She suddenly tuned her attentions to another girl who’d stopped by Greg in the door. “Did you bring that CD I wanted to borrow?”
Quin ignored everyone else as they brisked past her out of the classroom and kept her steady gaze on the teacher herding the loose sheets and texts together on his desk. She turned her eyes painfully back down to her own papers at the last minute.
“Ahem- Can I help you, Miss Kossinton?” Quin peered back up from her test with a lost frown. “Is there a problem I can help you with at all?”
The man spoke with a slight undertone of insecurity, Quin guessed as the result of being teased by his peers ‘back in the day’. That and being faced with an attractive young girl, such as herself, alone in the classroom… Well, why wouldn’t he be? Only time and hard work allowed such a privilege to ever reward a man such as himself! Quin suppressed her smug grin and meekly answered his lingering question instead.
“Um, it’s just… my test. I-”
“Come up here, Quinala, dear. I can barely hear you all the way back there.”
Ducking her head, Quin fumbled with her things, gathering them to her chest as she shuffled her awkward way out of the seat and made her way to his front desk with small, hurried steps.
“Um… I was just… just wondering if this was correct at all. I mean,” she gently lowered her closely clutched books to his desk, ‘innocently’ allowing full cleavage view in the process before she straightened herself back up and offered him her test, “Is it possible to get my mark changed at all? My cousin is going to kill me if she sees this!”
The man smiled sympathetically down at Quin, removing his glasses for a quick clean on his cardi. Quin hated sounding so pleading and pathetic, but if this wrinkled old worm didn’t know what was good for him, he was going to damn well buy it!
“I’m sorry Quinala, I’d love to be able to help you, but if you don’t do your homework, well…” He shrugged, then turned back to his class notes.
“B-but,” Quin stammered, tyring her best to be as assertive as a field mouse. “I did do my homework! And my cousin, she… she just doesn’t understand! Y-you don’t know what she’s like!”
The old man sighed. “Quinala… if you need help, that is what I’m here for. I’m sorry about your cousin, but if you are having troubles with her, I suggest you see the school’s counsellor. If you’ll excuse me.” He tried to quickly duck his way out, but Quin was quicker to plant herself firmly in his path.
“Mr. Tote,” she began slowly, causing him to blink with some surprise at her sudden change in body language. It still managed to possess all its former innocence, but there was just something… else. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but whatever it was, it was overwhelming! “I don’t think you seem to be grasping the entirety of the situation this mark puts me in.”
“Uh-um… Quinala, I have a staff meeting I can’t be late for. Please excuse-”
“W-what are you saying?” She gazed up at him, the deep pools of her eyes pained by some unconceivable force that came upon so suddenly… If he could just… “Don’t you want to help me?”
“Yes, yes I do, but…” He could help her, couldn’t he? But how?
Behind her mask of desperation, Quin grinned wryly at the effect she was having on the frail old man. She despised the memories that inflicting such impulses had reawakened within her, but likewise, she loathed being the puppet on the end of everyone else’s strings. She’d had enough!
Sure, this was something she hadn’t done for what was nearly a full year now, so she was a bit rusty around the edges, but just like riding a bike, it was something you couldn’t forget.
“Every moment I’m not at school I’m locked away in my room.” She caught back a woeful sigh and continued, “And every night I lie awake waiting for… waiting for the next time she tries to… tries to h-hit m-me…” Quin dropped her eyes to the floor, ashamed. Though at the same time, she couldn’t help but congratulate herself: what she’d just said wasn’t exactly false!
“Oh, you poor child…” Mr. Tote found his hand reach out to touch her shoulder and quickly drew back for the disturbing feelings he found himself suddenly having. Certainly, he felt sorry for the girl and sympathised, wanted to help… but… the thoughts ravishing his mind, the… the images! He couldn’t understand what was wrong with him. And they were his own - he wanted them! But why he suddenly felt… it was… how could he… So wrong…!
Her quivering, full pouted lips, her downcast eyes and their long, dark eyelashes, the purity of her untainted, milky white skin, the defeated slump of her elegant, graceful shoulders… She was so frightened. And he… he was stronger! Such a slight girl couldn’t stand up to anyone, not even himself! He had the power for once. The girl hadn’t a chance in this world, much like he hadn’t, but at least he could do one better than this girl… he could show her. Oh, he could help her all right. Do whatev…
NO! What was he thinking?
Quin kept her eyes to the ground, her body standing so vulnerably. His eyes travelled longingly over the luscious, swooning curve of her hips, breasts… Her shoulder dropped that slightest little bit more and those beady little eyes locked attentively onto the loosely revealed lace strap of her bra, unveiled by her drooping black top as it slipped off her side, provoking several possibilities to jump in mind.
“Rip it.”
“W-what?” The words were so soft, so sharp, so distant to his wondering mind, yet so powerful.
“Rip it!” Quin practically spat the words, her eyes still downcast, but now boring into the man’s foot as her voice husked the demand ever so dangerously low, not daring to raise it above a whisper. She truly had lost a bit of her touch - drawing out one’s deepest desires was simple enough, but when it came to the darkest, they were usually as easy as cutting a cake!
Tote frowned, his chaotic mind trying desperately to block out the things he was hearing, but most of all he struggled to contain the primitive urges that had responded so intensely! Without even knowing it, he’d found his hand already wrapped in a fist under the delicate strap, teetering on the edge of snapping the thing right then and there.
When had he gotten so close to the girl!?
Quin schooled her features to perfection, showing no sign of the venom and demand so evident in her suggestive voice. “Never once were you treated with respect. Everyone laughs behind your back, you know? You and your stupid little cardigans, no doubt knitted by your dead and rotting whore of a mother. Why do you even bother to go on living? The world despises you. I despise you.” Bitter, hollow laugher trickled from her hidden face. “You can’t even take a girl like me, though you know you want it: deserve it.
“You. Make. Me. Sick.”
‘SMACK’
“SHUT UUUP!” Tote screamed at Quin, crumpled helplessly at his feet, the side of her face already bruising in a mass of purples, reds and blacks. Tote roughly discarded the strip of lace and snatched her off the ground just as recklessly, slamming her into the wooden desk with her back arched at an impossible right angle as he forcefully ripped at her long black skirt. “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! NONE!”
Shutting her mind off from the outside world, Quin merely waited the whole ordeal out while her body seemed to work on its own, putting up a pitiful struggle - aware of everything that was going on, but separated, lost in the familiar abyss she’d retreated to so many times in the past.
Silently, she reflected on how disappointed Balthas would’ve been in her execution - it was poor, she’d admit as much - but then she also knew how proud he would have been at the result. … That’s when it suddenly hit her.
Tears crept into her eyes when, for a moment, she realised what was going on again. She’d escaped all this not one year ago! What was she doing going back!?
“TOTE!”
The cry suddenly brought her back to Earth and she remembered what the mongrel on top of her had done as hands suddenly grappled him off her small, brutally battered body, wrestling him to the ground as she slid unceremoniously off the desk.
The bastard gave her a bloody C minus!!!
The instant Quin hit the ground, Tote’s eyes near popped out of his head, hard pressed into the cold classroom floor, horrified when the realisation of his actions suddenly dawned on him.
“Oh God! W-what..?”
“Shut up, Tote! If I were you I’d seriously start thinking of a real good reason for what you just did. For Christ’s sake!”
A ragged cough shook Quin’s body as she painfully rolled onto her side, vomiting noisily.
**Thursday, April 19th, 2007. 19:20.**Simon's apartment
**Thursday, April 19th, 2007 - 19:20.**
Simon's apartment
Simon watched a hazy sun set over the low skyline of Los Angeles. Ice clinked and slowly melted in his tumbler as he took a pull of cheap vodka. The cold liquor chilled and numbed on its way down, bringing welcome relief from the day's remaining heat.
He was still not accustomed to the brutal heat of the LA summer and spring months. This time of year in Prague was always so comfortable. Of course, his last night back home was nothing he'd forget. God knew he'd tried...
**FLASHBACK**
Wednesday, October 5, 1990 - 16:05.
Prague, CR
There was just an hour left in Yom Kippur. The fasting had spiritually invigorated Simon, but all the psychic strength in the world wouldn't still the rumbling in his gut and weakness in his limbs. He'd usually be preparing for a feast at this point, but tonight he had business to attend. He took one last drag off his pipe, knocked the bowl against his boot heel, and opened the door to the Kuze home. He was immediately assaulted with the mixed stench of jasmine and cat urine. The only light in the house was the plethora of candles burning on every flat surface; any lightbulbs in the home would be shattered at this point.
The Kuze's had requested he come to attend to their eight year old son, who had taken ill. Simon was no doctor, but the initial symptoms of the house pointed to only one thing — a dibbuk. The things were manifestations of filth and avarice, and tended to attach themselves to objects; only associating with humans through the extension of ownership. That is, the only way to rid oneself of a dibbuk was to transfer ownership of the possessed object. He'd never heard of a dibbuk possessing a human, but when he saw young Avram shivering on his bed in the middle of the sweltering room, he knew that to be the case. The boy was nothing much more than bones, his skin flacid and sallow on thin bones. Urine, feces, and steady stream of saliva had soaked his pillow and sheets.
Elhav and Revka sat on the floor just the other side of the room, a good metre away from the bed. Their mutual exhaustion showed crookedly on their faces, and they looked on their son with a singular horror. They clung to eachother like life rafts. Revka broke her stare to address Simon:
Elhav and I; the woman's failure to show anything but fear of her son was chilling. These parents no longer considered this boy to be their son. He was a source of horror and the origin of their travails. The dibbuk was in the boy, but he was also still in their house. Renouncing ownership of a possessed item was not enough. The victims had to transfer ownership to another victim; it was how dibbuks spread from household to household. Only the owner of the vessel could be rid of the dibbuk. The realization of what he must do became a stone in Simon's gut.
<"You have to sell your son to me."> Simon's young hands shook as he thrust out a ten-crown-note.
Elhav stuttered <"Y...you...what?">
The mage clenched his teeth and threw off his overcoat, <"We don't have time for this! I have to own the dibbuk's vessel in order to exorcise it. Now take this and sell me your son!">
Revka sighed deeply, and shuddering almost has hard as her son, she crossed the room to Simon.
<"Do you accept this money for Avram?">
She nodded solemly and took the note.
<"Now, get some towels and water to help me clean him off.">
Twenty minutes later, Avram's hollow and unresponsive eyes stared out from a clean face. Evram and Simon had pushed the bed out to the street, and Revka had the boy propped up on couch pillows. Simon now stood in front of Avram. He gripped the leather caul sack hanging on a thong around his neck for a moment, clamped his eyes shut, and concentrated. The dibbuk was a pulsing, tentacled thing emerging from every open space in the boy's body. Huge blistering pustules along its surface spewed the ephemeral fluids that produced its stench. When Simon produced his blade, the dibbuk coiled more tightly around the boy, who responded with a sharp gasp. He touched the point of the dobrynuz to the closest tentacle.
The dibbuk only tightened its grip.
The dibbuk seemed to pull even further into Avram's body, refusing to let go. It was obvious to Simon that the thing had called his bluff. There wasn't much he could do beyond cutting the thing out - he didn't dare leave his body open so near to a possessing spirit, and he knew of no rituals to clear a dibbuk from a living host. Frustrated, Simon pinned down a tentacle with his blade, and pushed Avram away. With an audible screach, the dibbuk was ripped out of Avram's body, and the boy fell limply on the ground. Elhav and Revka were oddly mute.
The thing whipped an appendage into Simon's mouth, struggling to possess him, ripping off its pinned tentacle in the process. Simon was knocked onto his back, and just barely managed to bring the knife around into the bulk of the dibbuk's mass. The tip sank deep into the thing's 'body', and it thrashed violently before dissipating into a foul spray of ichor and piss. Simon winced with pain; in the struggle he'd cut himself across the belly. Exhaustion and pain sent him spiralling into black.
**END FLASHBACK**
Simon set his empty glass on his coffee table and absent mindedly ran his hand across the scar on his belly. His stomach was rumbling, and the refrigerator was well stocked with vodka and ice cubes, but nothing else. He buttoned up his shirt, grabbed his hat, and stepped unsteadily into the heavy Los Angeles night.
Lesson the First
Friday, 20 April 2007 – 11:08pm – Los Angeles
They had left Onyx by the car some way down the street and taken a slow walk up the hill to the graveyard. Such places probably weren’t the best to frequent at night even with the much reduced vampire population in LA, but the undead didn’t worry Marcus.
The new moon had passed a few days earlier and its waxing crescent hung low in the sky, all but hidden by the smog and lights of the city but there was still sufficient light to see their way.
“Here,” said Marcus as he stopped before a gravestone.
Rachel Albiston
15 September 2003 - 28 October 2004
Beloved Daughter
Never Forgotten
Seeing Kate’s face he knew tonight was going to be hard but given her insistence on pressing ahead he had little choice. Kate’s sheer ability at magic and the thoroughness of her previous tutoring had been immensely helpful and she had picked up what he had to teach amazingly swiftly. She had learnt how to find a soul in the great beyond in little more than two sessions; now he was going to show her how to prepare the vessel for the soul she brought back.
“We leave an impression in the clay of our forms, an echo of who and what we are. The younger we are when we die the fainter the impression and it of course fades with time. If you want Emma to adjust quickly to her restoration you need to restore that impression as fully as possible. We’ll work on that tonight.”
Kate nodded slowly, taking in Marcus’ words though her eyes were fixed on the headstone that faced the both of them. Rachel Albiston had been little more than one year old when she had died; that made her older than Emma but still too young to be taken from this life. Kate’s heart ached as she saw those words engraved beneath: ’Beloved Daughter’.
She could imagine that somewhere in the city there was a woman like herself who, although her child had died years ago, still felt the pain of that loss, still found herself yearning to hold her baby, still wandered into her nursery and ran her hand across blankets where her child had slept, or picked up the clothes that she had worn and tried desperately not to break down in tears of absolute despair.
“I’m ready,” Kate said finally, with a slightly hesitant sigh. Marcus’ lessons were difficult even though his confidence in her abilities seemed absolute. The things that she was learning… crossing the Great Divide, the separation of souls, the restoration of the flesh… they were distressing to her spirit, they caused her great concern. And then there was the price that would be owed – that worried her most of all.
Kate felt weary beyond anything she had felt before. She’d hardly slept at all since her first meeting with Marcus Dalton and it was a constant battle to hide her intentions and feelings from Jack and Galen, not to mention Dr Brown. Every night she was being tested, her powers stretched more and more as she became further engulfed in the world that Marcus inhabited.
And that was a dark world indeed.
Marcus rolled out a blanket, spread it before the grave and settled onto it, motioning Kate to join him. They would be here some time, he had no doubt.
“Centre yourself then enter a light trance. That should be enough for me to guide you this first time. Once you know what to look for you can try on your own.” While Kate prepared herself Marcus glanced around. Unlike the witch he had no need of mental exercise to place him in a suitably receptive state. The ground around him - sanctified to death - called to him in ways few others could hear.
Bringing his attention back to Kate he noted her slow, steady breathing and reached out to take her hand. A moment’s concentration brought them to synchronisation and Marcus focused on the grave. The fabric of Rachel Albiston lay in the ground like a piece of well-rotted silk. A few hundred threads woven together were all that remained of her bright potential.
*Each thread is a memory, a feeling, an anchor to this world. Every one that is intact is a snare to hold a soul to the flesh, each rotten one a reminder that it doesn’t belong.*
Marcus reached out slowly to that fabric and selected a single thread. Time had barely touched this one but it was damaged none the less. With a caress of power as gentle as a butterfly’s wing he smoothed the thread and erased the damage. Taking far longer than he really needed to he carefully repaired a dozen or so strands, repeating his actions over and over. *Now you try.*
Kate closely observed Marcus’s actions. She could tell he was doing this slowly for her benefit, so that she could follow his every move with careful detail. After a moment he gradually drew back, allowing her to take over. Steadying her breathing over that slight, quickening pace of apprehension, Kate let herself take hold of those delicate strands.
Channelling in the bright energy of life, she slowly smoothed the rot of death away in the manner that Marcus had, cleansing the thread of mortality and laying it back in place like the pieces of an elaborate jigsaw. She repeated the process, feeling a strain on her consciousness as she struggled to draw in the light, passing it between the threads of the poor dead child’s essence. Kate’s breathing grew harder and more exhausted as she struggled with the task.
*That’s enough for now.* Kate’s touch was becoming unsteady and if she continued no doubt she’d snap a thread or worse, though it made no odds to Marcus if she did. These threads weren’t Rachel Albiston, but Kate’s gifts lay in other areas and he couldn’t be sure how the echoes had affected her.
Withdrawing slightly he felt Kate follow and they slipped out of the trance. Perspiration beaded Kate’s brow and her breathing seemed quite laboured. “Rest a while.”
Kate nodded silently as she caught her breath, taking an eager gulp of air into her lungs and holding it in before slowly exhaling. As she rested she sat back on the blanket, uncrossing her legs more comfortably.
“I thought I had that for a moment,” she said after a few minutes had passed, studying Marcus’s quiet demeanour, “You make it look so… easy.”
His smile turning self-deprecating, Marcus replied, “I had a very good teacher, a lot of practice and more natural aptitude than you could imagine - but then, I’m a Dalton. That’s what we’re known for.”
His demeanour turned serious. “You’re doing well though, believe me. Necromancy’s more difficult than most realise.” He paused ,“More difficult to do well at any rate. Any practitioner can get hold of a spell and use it, the results are just likely to be… unpleasant.”
“This has to be right,” Kate all but blurted out and then blushed at the excessive passion in her voice. “This means more to me than anything in the world, having my daughter back…” Kate sighed in frustration, “I don’t expect you to understand Mr Dalton – Marcus… …or even to care. This… none of this is any of your concern, but I appreciate how patient you have been…”
Kate looked away, biting her lower lip in apprehension. She and Marcus had met on a regular basis for the past few nights but they had never really talked all that much, things had been very professional with hardly any amount of emotion or feeling expressed between the two of them in all that time. Not that Kate expected anything else, or even desired it, just that she had nobody else to talk to about the whole business.
“I think I’m just tired tonight,” she said finally, as though that explained away an entirety of faults.
“I do understand…” Marcus said softly, and he did - intellectually at least, understand the depth of emotion that would drive the sort of woman he thought Kate was to such drastic measures. “It will work out, Kate, just let me guide you and it’ll work out.”
Kate was slightly taken aback by the sincerity of Marcus’s words, especially now when sincerity seemed to be thin on the ground amongst certain people, certain friends – or supposed friends, who acted so sympathetic and caring one moment then stabbed her in the back the next.
The recent actions of her ’friends’ – Amanda and Tash most of all, well… Kate couldn’t even begin to describe how their betrayal had affected her. They had always been the two whom she could trust, could turn to when things went wrong – and now Kate found herself confiding in an almost complete stranger more than she could her friends. And a Dalton was certainly one of the last people she could have imagined opening up to.
Kate sighed heavily, releasing a weight of burdens. “You know I’d do anything, Marcus…” she said wistfully, feeling that vague sort of depression looming. She hated feeling so bad, but once she had Emma everything would change, maybe she and Galen could even leave Los Angeles, make a fresh start somewhere else… It was a possibility, and there was little tying her to this place now.
She looked so lost just then - wan and pale. Beneath that fragile exterior, though, was a core of steel. Steel wedded to power and a determination to find her way again. Marcus needed to engage that determination before her melancholy wasted the rest of the night.
Reaching out to her he spoke again. “Ready for another try?”
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Kate straightened up and took a deep, cleansing breath. There would be a time for all that later, for sorrow and recriminations, and Kate felt more than a little embarrassed that she’d allowed herself to become so exposed in this renowned man’s presence.
She nodded her head with renewed vigour. “Yes… I’m ready.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 21 April 2007 – 3:00am – Streets of Alhambra
Kate’s latest rendezvous with Marcus had ended about a half-hour ago but Kate was too high on the magics that she had been practising to return home just yet. Her body was thrumming with a shrill vibration that made her skin tingle, giving her a nice buzz that wouldn’t be too dissimilar to taking drugs. Everything around her felt alive, humming with a new kind of energy, bright with colours and loud with a million separate sounds from the hissing of crickets to the echo of her own footsteps.
For the first time in months, Kate felt almost happy to be alive. Galen had come back to her and the two of them were really connecting again, and soon… soon they would have their daughter back as well.
Kate had decided to walk back home to give her time to revel in that feeling before she would have to curl up in bed and make like everything was normal. That was the worst thing, the not telling… the lies. She didn’t want to lie to Galen and Jack. They meant so much to her and she hated deceiving both of them, to have to use her magic on them just so that she could get a few hours to herself.
But they wouldn’t understand, neither of them, they would just say it was too dangerous or the wrong thing to do. They didn’t understand the nature of magic the way that she did, they couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Emma’s death had been a mistake, it should never have happened, the things that Marcus was teaching her, the ritual of resurrection – all Kate wanted to do was correct the balance.
After all, she had dedicated her life to protecting the innocent, to upholding the greater good, and in return she had been through more suffering and heartache than anyone ever should. After everything that the gods had put her through, taken from her - didn’t they owe her some small favour?
All she wanted was her baby, that wasn’t too much to ask… was it?
Kate was suddenly yanked out of her thoughts as she heard several shouts and a loud CRASH! followed by even more shouts. Kate half considered just ignoring it, it wasn’t anything to do with her and she had more important things to think about than a street brawl. But then… what if it was something else? Despite Tash’s boasting about her success with the Watchers’ vampire extermination squad, they hadn’t exactly rid the city of their numbers.
Pushing her concerns to one side, Kate headed off in the direction of the shouting to check it out.
“Come on!” Reah yelled at the vampire, “That’s your best?”
With a snarl, the demon lunged back into battle, flinging blow after blow in such quick succession that he felt as though his fists were detached from arms. They’d been fighting for nearly five minutes now, but in comparison to her earlier spar, that had left her with a corked calf muscle, Reah found the competition lacking in any thrill. If she had a guess at it, she’d figure this vampire was only newly risen in the past month or so. Still, she refused to stake the mongrel, she needed to learn more control; the day’s events had shown her as much.
Lacking any supernaturally enhanced fighters she could just call up and train with - short of participating in Delancre’s sessions - this was the only place for her to improve on techniques and precision. And vampires had that unrelenting pride thing going for them to fuel their fight, amongst other things.
‘SCHMACK’
A powerful roundhouse sent Reah whirling straight to the ground. She broke-fell with her hands when her face was mere inches from the ground, a trickle of blood dripping over her lips before pursing them together with determination.
*I guess not,* she thought wryly: apparently this guy had friends. *Get up, Reah! And focus!*
Pushing up on hands and knees, she was suddenly gripped by the back of her coat and hurled into a nearby wall, bouncing off into fallen debris. One of the vampires stalked over to finish her off once and for all and end this stupid game.
Much to his dismay, she was back on her feet in the blink of an eye, ready for more.
Kate stood in the opening to the alleyway; the moon overhead wasn’t full but bright enough to shed light on the bunch of vampires and the lone woman fighting them back with a flurry of punches and kicks.
*Great!* she thought in dismay as she took several strides further into the alley. *Vampires! I hate it when I'm right all the time!*
Kate couldn’t exactly see the face of the woman as she flipped back to her feet and ploughed into the vampire at her right with a sharp right hook. Her features were obscured by a mixture of darkness and the shadow cast by her opponent. With a guttural cry, she propelled the creature over her shoulder, his body hitting a nearby dumpster before landing face first in the grime of the alley.
Kate jumped back in surprise, looking up to see two other vampires take his place in fighting the woman. “Hey!” she said firmly, driving her knee into the vampire's stomach as he scrambled to his feet, ready to rejoin the fight.
As the vampire groaned and bent over, clutching himself, Kate sent a jolt of telekinetic energy that knocked him back to the ground.
“Fuckin’ women!” he groaned as he lay, sprawled in the garbage, “Freaks, the lot of you! What happened to all the nice girls?”
Kate focused her eyes on the creature, her pupils growing darker and expanding to fill the entirety of her eyes. She held her hands out in front of her, making a circular gesture that generated a bright, yellow heat between her palms.
“Life,” she answered simply before beginning the incantation…
“Powers of light,
Magic’s bright fire,
Under Hecate’s sight,
Let this spell be your funeral pyre.”
As the bright yellow light grew more intense, Kate thrust it out at the vampire, watching as it engulfed him and his body erupted in flames.
“AARRRGG!” Reah cried out, infuriated as she spotted one of the vampires suddenly combust and powerfully struck out with her fist to emphasise her displeasure to one of the remaining vampires’ faces. What the hell happened!?!
Flashing through a back thrust roundhouse kick, Reah caught a passing glance of her reinforcements as she pivoted around. And that was it. Her leg buckled and she failed to duck under a returning blow, tumbling across the ground instead to jump up behind her opponent. Red seeped into her vision as she struggled to keep her breathing in check. What did she think she was doing! What business did she have in disrupting her life over and over!
With a silent cry, Reah leapt back into battle in such a fury of kicks, twists and punches that her prey were left too stunned to keep pace, hit and smacked from every angle like steaks thrown to a frenzied pack of starving dogs… Except they only faced one.
Wide-eyed, Kate watched the mysterious woman. Though her eyesight was temporarily blurry from the after-effects of her spell, there was an unnerving familiarity to the woman’s moves as she just seemed to kick into overdrive, catching and whipping the demons’ asses back and forth with such accelerated speed that she found herself releasing a breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding until she wondered if the other woman was even bothering to breathe herself!
Shaking herself out of the daze, Kate started reciting another incantation before she was suddenly stopped short by a rippling cry soon followed the haunting shrieks of the two vampires as they exploded into skeletons of dust. She wasn’t given pause, however, when the woman’s fist didn’t seem to slow, instead followed through with impeccable precision as three protruding blades suddenly shot out, glistening dangerously as they cut through the scant moonlight towards Kate’s face, abruptly halting a mere inch from her eyes.
Kate stumbled back, her shoulders hitting the hard wall behind her and halting any further retreat. She stared down those glittering blades, sharp like razors just mere inches from her face. Kate followed their length back to the owner, not even needing to see her face to know who it was.
“Reah…” she gasped, barely able to draw breath beneath the woman’s unrelenting fierceness. “I… I didn’t realise it was you… I, I didn’t know…”
“Oh?” Reah’s eyebrows shot up as she interrogated the woman at the tip of her blades. She could cut her throat right there if she wished it: fortunately for Kate, she didn’t. If anyone was going to feel the swift death of her claws, it would have been Damen. “So what you mean is: if you had realised, you wouldn’t have tried to save me, right?”
“No…” said Kate, her voice trembling a little, “What I meant was… I mean…” Kate opened her mouth to try and explain exactly what she had meant but the words stuck in her throat unarticulated and doomed to remain unspoken. She swallowed slowly; conscious that one of those deadly blades was positioned mere millimetres above her windpipe.
Kate raised her eyes to meet Reah’s hard, unmerciful gaze. If only she had known the amount of pain that one foolish night would have caused, if only she could wipe it clear, take it back, not just for Reah but for all their sakes. Galen had left her because of it, had allowed himself to be seduced by Daye and all the other things that had followed as a result. Kate solemnly wished with every fibre of her being that she’d never even laid eyes on Damen Kirk.
“I’m sorry…” she said earnestly, “Reah… I’m, I’m sorry…”
There was a moment where neither moved an inch. Kate wouldn’t dare, and Reah was just too caught between conflicting emotions, her body felt carved of stone. Eventually she sighed; steadily lowering her blades without taking her eyes off Kate as the woman visibly relaxed. “Really not interested.”
DAMN IT! Why did she have to run into Kate now! She’d been getting better, if somewhat slowly. Had nearly been able to go through a whole day without thinking of what had happened once, and now this! It was like the whole ordeal had just restarted all over again, the wound reopened, only this time salt was being rubbed in as she was faced with the other half.
“How…” Reah bit her tongue, not sure what she was going to say exactly without ranting on and on and on like a certain someone that she really didn’t want to associate herself with anyway, any more. “Fucken hell,” she rigidly cursed under her breath.
Kate sagged against the wall in relief as Reah drew those dangerous claws away from her face. She didn’t want to get into a stand off with the woman but she wasn’t about to be made into a Kate-shaped kebab either.
“I didn’t even know the two of you were a- …that the two of you had- …that you were having a relationship,” Kate sighed wearily. She wasn’t exactly desperate to relive that whole sorry night either, it made her physically ill to even think about it. But she would if it meant that Reah could get some kind of rational perspective on it.
“It’s not like I wanted it to- …it just happened, we got drunk and I was upset and Da-” Kate cut off sharply as she caught the glare in Reah’s eyes. “It was a mistake, for both of us, if you would just let me explain…”
“Explain what I already know?” Reah threw her hands up in the air only to drop them back at her side as she shook her head upward at nothing, just an excuse to give her a brief pause from looking at the woman. “What else would it be, huh? ‘Yeah, Reah, I’d been planning the whole thing for some time now. Had it marked on my calendar and everything!’” she said sarcastically, dropping a ridiculous look back down to Kate. “I knew the excuse before I even heard it from Trigger.”
Shaking her head at the ground she silently admitted after a little thought. “You know… I reckon I could have actually accepted it easier if you’d both actually had feelings for each other…” She sniffed, “That way there would have been some worthwhile meaning to gate-crashing my life. But what were the chances of that being the case, right?”
“I’m sorry…” Kate repeated again, her voice quiet and pathetic. She was shocked by just how upset Reah actually was over this whole thing. The impression she’d got from Tash was that it was just a physical thing between her and Damen, but looking at the woman now that seemed far from the case.
“You really cared about him didn’t you?” she said warily, keeping a safe distance between herself and her technologically augmented friend. “Reah, I… I can’t say anything to change what’s already happened, I wish I could, believe me I wish I could! I’ve messed up so badly… but I never thought that I was ruining anyone else’s life apart from my own.”
“Yeah, well, ya did!” Reah all but spat, rolling her eyes while arms crossed firmly beneath her breasts to keep them occupied. After a tense moment she sighed, her tone softening reminiscently. “You know… being cheated on really sucks.”
She sniffed, her mind casting back to her first set of rendezvous with Dre’an and suddenly realising how it must have felt for her former partner before him.
Unfortunately for Reah, she didn’t hate the person she’d been with prior to Dre’an and had the added bonus of watching them die when they were helping her! Fighting to stop Paul’s Corp that ended up resulting in nothing more than a horrendous slaughter…
Not that they knew that anything of the sort had ever even happened now. They had the upper hand of not even knowing what they once shared. Reah so hated her life. She had a hard enough time still trying to understand it herself let alone anyone else!
“Yes… I know,” said Kate with a downhearted sigh, thinking about how she had felt when Daye had gloated in her face over her night with Galen. Being cheated on didn’t just suck; it was having your heart ripped out of your chest so that you could look at it while it broke.
“Maybe if you care about Damen so much, the two of you can still make it work?” she ventured tentatively, breaking Reah out of her contemplative silence.
“What?” Reah said, quirking a doubtful eyebrow around at Kate, eyeing the other woman up and down speculatively. “Make it work with Trig after…” She cut herself short and quickly turned her eyes away from Kate before she got out of hand. “The man’s such a bloody asshole, someone should write a fucken song about it! I hate him.”
*Yeah, because we always get so worked up over people we despise,* thought Kate but knew better than to say anything. It wasn’t her place to make assumptions about what Reah felt and she had no right to lecture her on that matter either. *Oh yeah, I can see THAT going down well ‘I may have fucked your boyfriend, and while I agree he’s a complete asshole, it’s obvious YOU care about him and maybe you should give him another chance…’ * That seemed like a good way to get several free body piercings.
Instead, she folded her arms beneath her breast, mirroring Reah’s defensive posture. It was getting late and as much as she enjoyed being reminded of her indiscretion with Damen, and talking about it in a dirty, rat infested alley with a pissed off killing machine she needed to get home before the effects of her spell wore off.
“Well, it’s your life of course,” she said finally.
Reah shot another glance right back at Kate, frowning. “Why thank you for that kind consideration, though one might be crazy to think that it came a month too late.”
Kate shrugged awkwardly, digging her hands into the pockets of her pants. She HAD wanted to see Reah, to apologise, but the truth was she didn’t even know that Reah knew about what had happened until she’d seen the look on her face at the last White Hat meeting. And since then… well it’s not like she’d really been herself lately.
“Well, I guess there’s nothing I can say that will change how you feel, or make anything better,” she said dismally, not bothering to look Reah in the eye any more. What difference did it make? She’d apologised and tried to explain but sometimes the best course of action was to know when to back off.
Kate sighed deeply and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I never wanted any of this to happen, I don’t expect you to understand how it feels to-” Kate looked away uneasily. “You’re not the only one who got hurt out of all this, I’ve lost more than you can even begin to imagine, so if you’re looking to punish me, or make me pay then you may as well save it.”
Reah went silent, turning her eyes gradually back down at the rough gravel of the alley, absently kicking at a loose pebble with her foot, a frown firmly planted on her face. Was the woman seriously trying to turn the guilt trip on her!? Sure, Reah had never lost a child before and could only begin to imagine what it must be like, but still! If you kill a person, you can’t be expected to be pardoned from your actions based on the argument that ‘you were having a totally shit day’!
She wasn’t sure what Kate actually thought of Reah any more, and frankly, from what she had to guess at, she didn’t like it. Kate could always be assured of having Reah’s sympathies for her loss, but anything else…
“Oh, Kate!” Reah called suddenly just as she spotted the other woman was about to leave. “Hold up a tic…”
‘SLAP’
“Sorry, but I just had to do the whole girly bitch slap thing,” Reah nodded with a rueful smile at the stricken woman. “You understand, right?” Kate barely had the time to absorb what she’d said let alone the sharp open hand that fell across her face! It hadn’t been hard enough to knock her down, but Reah had put in just enough force to leave a stinging, solid imprint of her hand that should last for at least the next hour or two at most. She’d had it coming!
“That, and I figured Damen might feel a bit slighted if I let you off scot-free. And considering you were the actual catalyst to this whole thing, I reckon he’d still feel pretty damn rotten at how much easier you got off than he.”
Kate held her hand up to her cheek and rubbed the sore patch of flesh, easing that stinging feeling that was becoming just a bit too familiar to her. Actually she was surprised that if Reah was going to hit her she hadn’t just left her unconscious on the floor.
*Catalyst, yeah, right – that and a couple bottles of vodka that had definitely been Damen’s idea before they’d -* Kate cut her thoughts short, frowning as she struggled to remember anything of what had happened that night. Her memory was still a hazy, drunken blur filled with sparse images of the worst kind.
*Though it certainly wasn’t ME who was up for round two in the morning!* Kate kept those thoughts to herself too, she doubted it would make any amount of difference with Reah anyway apart from reinforcing how much of an asshole Damen actually was. And they were both painfully aware of that fact already.
Kate inhaled sharply; she was so worked up she could feel herself trembling inside as she returned Reah’s unfeeling glare. Ordinarily, Kate might have been upset at the prospect of yet another of her friends turning their back on her but right now she was beginning to get used to it. *To hell with the lot of them!* she thought bitterly, *Soon as I bring back Emma, Galen and I can leave this whole fucking pathetic city behind!*
“Believe what you want to, Reah,” Kate said sharply, biting back the horrible thoughts that ran through her head. It seemed like she was so used to people saying the cruellest things it was beginning to rub off on her too. “You’ve obviously made up your mind anyway, but maybe you really should consider taking him back, I think you’re ideally suited.”
Countless deaths were accountable to Reah, multiple techniques both from this age and the future she could execute right there on the spot, and yet after everything this woman had said, she just couldn’t do herself a favour and shut the fuck up!
Rather than doing what she knew everyone always expected her to do - because after all, she was nothing more than a brain dead killing machine who only knew how to solve a problem with her claws, right? - she composed herself and brought a detached, unsettling smile to her facade.
“That’s all right dear, but I know that once the package has been corrupted, you throw it far away.” The smile slipped easily from her face as she turned to leave, coldly remarking as Kate watched her retreating back, “Who knows what disease I might catch and I’d like to have children one day.”
The bitterness from Kate’s expression suddenly melted away at Reah’s heartless retort, her eyes glazing over again as she watched the woman turn her back and walk away. A cool chill seemed to pass by and she wrapped her arms around herself tighter before slowly turning in the opposite direction and heading back towards home.
Ghostly Advice
Saturday, 21 April 2007 – 5:10am
Kate was exhausted when she finally dragged herself in through the window, her boots landing a little noisily on the hard wooden floor. She was too angry to really be bothered, angry and saddened by what had happened between herself and Reah. Sure, she’d never expected their first meeting after the whole Damen debacle to go smoothly but still, it wasn’t like she’d planned it! And what right did Reah have to be so self-righteous anyway? If she’d actually told people about her and Damen THEN she’d have a right to be so pig headed, so fucked off with the world so… so…
“GODDAMN IT!” Kate swore quietly through gritted teeth, throwing herself down on the bed in frustration. Why had she ever given that man the time of day in the first place? He’d been nothing but trouble since the first day she’d met him!
Kate sat up while she pulled off her boots, kicking them under the bed in frustration. Galen was sleeping in the spare room tonight; had done for the past few nights actually despite her efforts to entice him into her bed again. He was adamant that their relationship would remain on a platonic level until she was ‘well’ again. But at least it meant that she didn’t have to be so careful about sneaking out, but she’d taken to putting the whole house under her sleeping spell – just to be on the safe side.
“It’s okay Kate,” she said to herself quietly as she stood up to look at herself in the mirror above her dressing table. “You can do this, just another week and you’ll be ready.” She sighed tiredly, brushing a smudge of dirt from her plain white t-shirt before pulling it off over her head. She rummaged through one of the drawers, taking out a long length of green silk trimmed with antique lace, pulling it on as she removed the rest of her clothes ready for bed.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she picked up a hairbrush and began to untangle her long locks with slow, even strokes. Slowly she shook her head in dismay. *What am I doing?*
“You’re making a terrible mistake.”
At the sound of the voice, Kate spun around suddenly; feeling dizzy as the room whirled past her eyes. A strong pair of hands caught her, wrapped around her shoulders, pulled her in close. Kate was lost in the sensation of being held by this force; she could almost feel it brush against her face, linger across her lips, but just as suddenly it was gone and all Kate felt was an icy chill on her skin.
Her eyelids fluttered open.
Luc stood by the bedside, his handsome face grave and worried.
“Luc?” Kate said in surprise, moving towards him, a bright smile lighting up her face. “You came back? But I thought-”
“Please Kate,” said Luc hastily, raising his hands in warning, “don’t come any closer!”
“Oh Luc…” sighed Kate as she flung herself against him with open arms. After everything that had happened with Reah she really needed to be held right now. But instead of meeting with Luc’s solid, muscular body she felt herself falling. Her body passed through his viscous form, sinking through that ectoplasmic substance like a penny being dropped through treacle before landing face first on the bed behind him. Kate lay there stunned for a moment, the fine hairs on her arms standing on end and her skin chilled to the bone.
Slowly she rolled over, brushing her hair from her face as she stared at the almost glowing form before her. She wrapped her arms around her body to warm her cold skin, crawling backwards a little on the bed. “Oh my god…” she mumbled, “you’re a ghost…”
“More of a non-corporeal entity,” explained Luc gently, "I only had a solid form before because The Powers That Be wanted me to talk to you. Now I am here against their will. I shouldn’t even be here, but I had to come… I couldn’t stand by and watch you make another mistake.”
Luc looked upon his childhood sweetheart with a mixture of affection and dismay, his kind blue eyes displaying his evident regret. “This… ‘arrangement’ you have with Marcus Dalton,” he said cautiously, “It can only end in misery. Emma is dead; her spirit is at rest… as her mother you should let her remain that way. She is beyond all mortal suffering now.”
Kate shook her head slowly in confusion, after the last time Luc had visited her she’d never expected to see him again. He’d said as much himself and yet, here he was again. “No… Luc,” she protested weakly, “You don’t understand…”
“What don’t I understand, Kate?” asked Luc tenderly, his voice remaining very gentle and kind. “How much you love her? How much your heart aches to have to live another day without her in your life? Kate… you entrusted Emma’s spirit to me, let me take care of her like you asked, she is not for this world any more.”
“NO!” said Kate defensively, clasping her open hand firmly against her heart. “She is my baby and I want her back here with her mother and father who love her.” Kate sniffled and wiped at several tears that rolled down her cheeks.
“You don’t know what it’s like to have everything you care about taken away from you…” she sobbed openly now, tears rolling down her pale skin and splashing onto the silk material of her slip. “If you had any compassion you would have let me end my life when I asked you to take it. But you didn’t! You made me go on living, so what right do you now have to tell me what I can and can’t do with my life?”
Luc looked on unhappily as Kate sat hunched in the middle of the bed, her legs tucked beneath herself and sobbing quietly. “I tried to warn you…” he said after a moment, his voice full of woe.
“Warn me?” asked Kate in disbelief, looking up at the spirit of her former lover. “You didn’t warn me about any of this!”
“I warned you that the choices you made would be of consequence to the rest of your life! That warning is still in effect now! Do you think you can use this kind of magic, necromancy, and walk away unaffected? No, Kate, you can’t, no one can! It will taint you, corrupt your innocence of soul… Kate… please, end all this while you still can.”
“It’s already too late,” said Kate solemnly, “Do you think I can walk away now when I am so close? When I’ve already begun to have hope? It’s the only thing that keeps me alive, Luc, the ONLY thing. Or I’d be dead right now. I have to have her back, Luc… I do, I need her, I need to hold her in my arms, to kiss her goodnight, teach her to walk, hear her voice, watch her grow – you say you understand but you don’t, how could you?”
“Kate… please…” Luc begged desperately though he knew it was no use. He could see the determined gleam in her eye, the fresh hope in her features. She wasn’t about to let go of that now, she would have to see it through to the bitter end.
He desperately wished he could hold her… touch her… kiss her like he had before. She looked so fragile and delicate; she needed looking after, emotionally – not just physically, why could no one see it? Why didn’t anyone help her?
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he concentrated all his power into his right hand and reached out, touching Kate’s cheek, allowing his fingers to cup against her warm flesh gently, lovingly. It lasted less than a minute before his touch turned into something akin to cold porridge, forcing him to pull back.
Kate tried to hold on to him but her hand passed straight through his just as before. She opened her tired eyes and gazed at him. “Take me with you,” she begged again, kneeling in front of him. “PLEASE Luc, take me over with you, don’t leave me here again!”
“I… can’t,” Luc said painfully, shaking his head. “It’s not your time, it’s not my job to make that decision.”
“Not your job!” exclaimed Kate, her voice edged with anger. “In the hospital that night, when I… …I saw something, in the mirror, a blurry light just before that nurse came in. That was you, wasn’t it? You brought her to me, you saved my life again!”
Luc hung his head. “It wasn’t your time…”
“Because you made it not be, but you admitted it, it’s not your job to make that decision. I should be dead now, you owe me.”
“I died for you Kate!” shouted Luc in annoyance, rising from the bed irritably. “I died so you could carry on living, how do you think it makes me feel to hear you say that you'd rather be dead now? Did my sacrifice mean so little to you?”
“No…” said Kate remorsefully, “I didn’t mean that…”
“If any thing, you owe me. You owe it to me to keep on living,” maintained Luc, his eyes glowing with feverish impatience.
“And I do…” said Kate obdurately, “I carry on even though I’m so miserable I can barely get out of bed in a morning. When my friends turned their backs, when Galen left me, when I had lost my baby and I was all alone without anyone to confide in… I carried on! But it wasn’t living, Luc, it was existing, surviving, eking out each day and night just to be faced with the same torrid cycle again and again!”
Kate sighed in exhaustion. “I’m only just beginning to live again, now, after the past two months of hell. But things will never be the same without Emma… and after what happened…” Kate looked down sadly, her hands skimming across her abdomen. “I might not be able to have any more children.”
She looked up at Luc with hard, accusing eyes. “You said I would have children, lots of them you said… You, you lied to me…”
Luc hung his head again sadly, “Kate…”
“No,” said Kate angrily, “You know how important this is to me! You said it yourself; I have so much love to give! I was born to be a mother, it’s always been there inside of me, that aching to have a family of my own, to see my children grow up…” She shook her head morosely, “This is the only way I can accomplish that now, the only way.”
Luc continued to watch his poor, heartbroken love with a saddened expression. There was nothing else he could say to try and convince her and with the lightening of the sky he was running out of time; soon The Powers That Be would realise his deception and force him to return. Already light seemed to circle his shape, dancing around like fireflies and Luc could feel his spirit being called back to the ethers.
“Kate,” he said softly as he began to fade away, “Listen to your heart, it had shown you the way in the past, don’t ignore it now…”
Kate watched unhappily as the light beams that wrapped themselves around Luc’s form grew brighter, rising upwards until Luc had vanished entirely plunging the room into darkness and leaving Kate once more alone.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 21 April 2007
Nikolai’s Apartment
7:45pm
It was done.
As the Russian walked into his condo, he stopped to scratch Tolstoy behind the ears. The cat purred contently, accepting his due with the proper grace before lowering his head to the pillow he curled up on and returning to sleep. Nikolai pulled the gun from his suit jacket, setting it down on the table. Reaching into a pocket, the empty shell casing joined it.
*I really should get a revolver,* he thought to himself. It would make things like this easier to deal with. Still, at least now the deed was done, even if he wasn’t fond of it. The hair on his neck stood up, and Nikolai somehow knew that someone else was in the room behind him.
“My, aren’t we proud of ourselves?”
Turning, he saw Garak standing there, as he’d half-expected. Whenever he did something in his life some days, there was the Cardassian to criticise him. Not something as trivial as eating but whenever he might have a bit of doubt. “I only did what was necessary,” Nikolai returned.
“Oh really?” asked his companion sarcastically. “Tell me something, then. Why are you questioning it?”
“I’m not,” Nikolai returned sharply, although that wasn’t entirely accurate. There was a bit of doubt there. “I regret it as what had to be done.”
“How easily we deceive ourlselves, friend Kolya.”
“Leave me alone!” he snapped back, wondering where the outburst came from. Still he couldn’t help but feel that Garak was right in a way. The memory started to come back to him, and he pushed it away, beat down the rising guilt.
No.
He couldn’t feel guilty about it.
“But I can’t leave you alone!” his guide snapped back at him. “I can’t because you don’t want me to, Kolya. Something is dreadfully wrong with you, and you know it. You have for a while on some level and while you haven’t seriously wanted to change, now you do.”
“And just what are you, then, Garak?”
“Does that really matter? What matters is you have just murdered your friend!” Garak advanced on him. “I must say, you have to admire the plan in a morbid way, don’t you? The way that you and Jimmy told him about the newest meeting for the Armoury, that you wanted him along, were going to expand-”
“No, stop it!” Nikolai snapped. He didn’t want to hear it, despite the guilt welling up inside him. Turning away from him, he went so far as to cover his ears, only to discover that he could still hear Garak speaking just as well.
“Oh no, Kolya, you don’t get off that easily,” the mental figure returned, standing there in the middle of his room. Garak’s voice was full of an uncharacteristic hostility as his mind beat him over the head with the reality of what he had been doing. “I can see it now, looking at you. How you didn’t just order it, oh no that wasn’t good enough. You had to be the one to make the killing blow, didn’t you?”
Nikolai tried to say something, but couldn’t resist the grief any more. Leaning against the wall, he tried to steady himself as his legs went weak. Slowly he lowered himself to the ground, burying his head in his arms.
Garak moved quickly, kneeling next to him, his face close to Nikolai’s. He spoke with a sense of desperation and urgency about him, producing no feeling of breath or closeness that one would expect. “Face it, Kolya, you can’t go on like this. We both know it with all that we know about you, and you know what you have to do. Torture, murder of your friends, betrayal, returning to the life – this isn’t really what you want, is it?”
Nikolai didn’t respond except to begin to cry, wishing that he could just make his guide go away. What was worst of all was that Garak was right. “What?” he croaked out. “What do you want?”
“The question is what do you want, dear Kolya? You know that something is wrong, something inside of you, corrupting you. Now, what are you going to do about it?”
For a long time he just sat there on the floor. Eventually the Russian looked up again to see that he was alone. Slowly he worked his way up to his feet, looking around. What would he do?
He needed to think, to talk to someone. To find help, that much was clear. He stared at the phone for a few minutes, reached out for it. His hand stopped right about the receiver, afraid to grasp it. Kate would know what to do, wouldn’t she? Nikolai knew that he damn well couldn’t talk to Alicia, wouldn’t let her see him like this, was afraid that he might do something.
Then he stopped.
No, he couldn’t call Kate either. Not yet. Maybe he needed a drink first.
Yes, that sounded like a good idea, he thought as he found the bottle of vodka.
First a drink. Then he could confess his latest sins.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 21 April 2007 – 10:25pm
Kate paced the living room anxiously as she waited for them to arrive. Nikolai had called just over half an hour ago sounding very distressed and somewhat uneasy. He’d not said what the matter was; just that he needed to talk to her urgently and had asked if she could go over to his place so that they could talk. But of course, Galen and Jack being as protective of her as usual had denied her flatly.
“I am NOT a child and I do NOT need the both of you treating me as such!” Kate had declared angrily, frustrated with her father and husband equally. Just because she’d not quite been herself lately did not give either of them the right to quarantine her like this!
A heated row had ensued whereupon Galen had suggested that, if Nikolai was too drunk to drive then HE would go to his apartment and bring him to Kate. It wasn’t the best solution, but it was the only one available.
In the meantime Jack waited with Kate, watching his daughter as she paced the room restlessly, glancing out the window every time a car passed by. There was something about her manner that made him worried – MORE worried than usual. She seemed so fidgety and unsettled and kept glancing at the clock as though conscious of the late hour, almost like she had to be somewhere else.
“Just sit down and relax,” he said gently, taking her hand as she passed him for the dozenth time in the past five minutes. “They will be here soon enough, don’t worry.”
Nikolai stopped Galen outside the door, his eyes red from a combination of drink and crying. He could feel some sympathy from Galen upon the man’s walking into his apartment, and Nikolai figured that he probably guessed he’d been dumped. Though that wouldn’t explain the smashed bottles in the sink. Galen had asked what happened, and Nikolai had apologised and said that he didn’t really want to talk about it much.
“Galen, wait,” he said, stopping him just before he entered the house. “I wanted to thank you, for picking me up… you didn’t have to do that… thank you….”
“No problem,” Galen said after a moment, opening the door to let him in.
Nikolai walked in to the living room, trying to hold himself up. There was a greater amount of tension and anxiety from Kate than usual. He took a glance at the two other men in the room. “You don’t think we could be alone, do you?” he asked. “I would like to talk to Kate in private, if you don’t mind. It’s a bit… personal.”
Galen held back any protests, nodding at Jack’s questioning glance. He knew that his wife and Nikolai had a special kind of bond, nothing romantic but more than just friendship. Ever since she had helped him with the ‘merging’ process – Galen still wasn’t sure what had happened there apart from the fact that Kate had learnt a lot more about the Russian than most people in Los Angeles probably knew. And though she didn’t particularly hold with the more… questionable aspects of his past she had seen enough of a change in Nikolai to continue to place a large amount of value on their friendship.
“Of course,” he said steadily, glancing at Kate with a small amount of reserve. She really had been much better in the past couple of days. Since he and Jack had both returned, and thanks to Dr Wallis’ medication, she was generally much calmer and less stressed. “Jack and I will be out back, if either of you need us for anything…”
“Thanks,” said Kate tenderly, her eyes warm with affection for Galen’s understanding. He might be overprotective of her, though after everything she guessed he probably had a right to be so. But at least he knew when something was important enough to back off and give her some space.
Once they were alone, Kate moved over to Nikolai, taking his hands in hers and gasping a little as she felt a wave of remorse and guilt hit her like a clean uppercut to the chest. “Koyla…?” she asked gently, trying to read him but the only thing she could grasp was a hollow darkness. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
Nikolai pulled away gently, rubbing his eyes, pacing through the living room some, and finally collapsing down into the chair. “One bad month… in nine years of friendship, one rough month isn’t too bad, is it?” he asked rhetorically. He couldn’t help but think of Damen, the way they’d helped and ultimately saved each other’s lives.
“Kolya…” Kate said, sitting next to him.
Before she could respond, he looked up at her despondently. A small sniffle escaped him. “It took… It took me three drinks just to work up the nerve to call you…”
*Three? And a few more besides…* thought Kate as she wrinkled up her nose slightly, his breath reeked of alcohol, he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said he was too drunk to drive. She could tell he was deeply aggrieved about something, enough to send him to drink and she knew how that felt. Gently she reached out and squeezed his knee comfortingly, hoping that he didn’t recognise it as a ploy to re-establish contact between them.
“Something’s happened… hasn’t it?” she asked softly, holding his focus as she continued to rub his knee. Kate’s eyes flitted anxiously as she struggled to separate Nikolai’s fluctuating emotions.
At Nikolai’s drawn out silence, Kate sighed in frustration, “This is about… …Damen?” she said without warning, surprised as the name suddenly popped into her head.
Nikolai was shocked at first, then remembered that she was a telepath. His response was to close his eyes and nod silently as he looked for the words. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and silent, as though afraid to be overheard.
"It's not like in the movies," he finally said. "In the world that I lived - live - in, your killers come with smiles. We told him... it was a job... and then...." Nikolai couldn't continue to talk any more, as his head dropped into his hands and he cried again.
Kate frowned. *Oh boy, this could take some time, I hope Marcus won’t get angry if I’m late,* she thought with a glance at the clock, then hated herself for being so callous. Sure she had things to do that night, important things, but Nikolai was her friend and with everything that had happened lately with Tash and Daye, and Reah looking very much like she would like to fillet her over her one night stand with Damen – Kate couldn’t afford to alienate anyone else by suddenly being cold-hearted now.
Nikolai was obviously distressed, his thoughts consumed with memories of his friend. “Life is tough…” she said quietly, removing her hand and replacing it on his back, rubbing in small circles, “You don’t have to convince me of that. Sometimes we have hard decisions to make, things that other people might disagree with, things that they don’t understand. All we can do is what we think is best for the greater good, and hope that everything turns out well in the end.”
Nikolai looked up at Kate in surprise at her saying that, she almost sounded like someone in the family now. He almost couldn't believe that she was saying that or talking about him. "I ordered it," he whispered. "I ordered it..."
He sighed, trying to find the right words to explain the way he was feeling. Finally he looked at her, remembering what she'd said earlier. "You were right... about, about something being wrong... you were right, Kate. I don't know what's wrong, but you were right."
Standing up, he started to pace back and forth. He still didn't know what it was, just that something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Even his 'spirit guide' seemed to know that, unless... maybe he was to blame? Or was it something else. Finally he turned to face her again, "Kate, I... Enter my mind. Please. There's, something in there. Something that doesn't belong. He knows about it, but can't tell me what... maybe you can..."
Kate looked hesitant, she had already removed her hand from his back and shuffled away slightly in her seat. Something WAS wrong, but she was still not much wiser as to what had happened to bring Nikolai to the same conclusion.
*He ordered it? Ordered what?* she thought in confusion, *And what does all this have to do with Damen? ”In the world that I live in, your killers come with smiles…” – what is going on?*
Slowly she shook her head. “Not until you tell me what’s happened… what’s going on Nikolai?” she asked firmly, a look of apprehension already etched into her features. “What have you done?”
"I killed him," Nikolai said softly, hardly moving. It was still hard to believe. "I've ordered a man killed, tortured, to get information on the Council. And now my... I don't know," he started, trying to find the right words for it but failing again, "It's like I have something inside of me that's turned its attention away, or a good period in being ill, but I don't know how long it will last..."
Kate felt sick in her stomach at Nikolai’s confession. He’d killed someone? Did he mean Damen? But why? The two of them had been friends for years!
“Koyla?” she said tenderly, moving closer to him again and wrapping her arm back around him, stroking his shoulder. There was just so much that she couldn’t believe; that Nikolai had tortured someone seemed ludicrous, he couldn’t even look at steak without feeling sick! But she had seen it, hadn’t she? A few days ago, that darkness, an alteration, something that wasn’t Nikolai… something… evil?
Kate hesitated a moment before she turned herself to face Nikolai properly, forcing herself to look at him even though she still felt ill at the prospect that he had reverted to his old ways. With great uncertainty, Kate raised her hands to either side of Nikolai’s head, focusing all her energies into him and closing her eyes.
Nikolai stopped in shock as Kate suddenly entered into his mind, looking at the scene. One moment, they were in her living room. The next they stood in the middle of a church, with a single casket on open display. Inside the lifeless corpse of Damen Kirk stared up at them. A single figure in a black tuxedo faced away from the pair as they walked down the aisle, a small musical group on the stage.
Though the tuxedoed individual who conducted them faced away, and Nikolai could guess who exactly it was being made manifest. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry at the fact that the band was playing the theme to The Godfather. They walked down the aisle slowly, looking around at the place, set up for a funeral.
Garak turned to face them, looking rather excited. “Why, Kolya, I’m most pleased to see you’re finally seeking help. Allow me to introduce myself, my dear, my name is Elim Garak - I won’t bore you with the details of my life on television, but I assure you that this is the image his subconscious mind chose for me. Quite appropriate for one former assassin to converse with another, wouldn’t you agree?”
Kate stood there in pure surprise for a moment, when Nikolai finally commented. “Katya, you just got more out of my ‘guide’ at one time than I ever could…”
Kate raised an eyebrow in amazement. The experience with meeting L’Than had been strange, this was just… bizarre! “Well I am most honoured to finally meet you,” said Kate to Garak, but not before casting Nikolai a series of amazed glances. She had her fair share of strange dreams and prophetic visions but she could see that nothing would prepare her for the weirdness that was Nikolai’s mind.
“Allow me to assure you that I don’t know anything more than Nikolai does. Well…” Garak trailed off for a moment, smiling at her. “Maybe just a little more.”
Nikolai sighed when he saw Kate’s still amazed series of looks. “Yes, he’s always like that -”
“Not that you would have me any other way,” they said together. Nikolai’s glance made it clear that he knew some sort of remark like that was in the works. Which was when Garak continued.
“I can tell from your concern for him that you’re a friend. You would not believe the trouble I’ve had with him recently. We were making such good progress up until this day he got rather ill and tried to change his name to ‘Corleone’.”
Nikolai cringed at Kate’s suspicious expression. In a single breath, his guide had just told her that he had tried - and managed - to get back into the life. “It’s true,” he said at last. “I… I don’t know why I got back in, but now… I’m afraid I’m in too deep…”
“I tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen,” Garak interjected. “I must say, being connected to a clairvoyant is nice though I won’t spoil the end of this Corleone’s time in the mob. For now, feel free to explore Nikolai’s mind and see what you can.”
Kate turned back to Nikolai and mimicked her waking posture, placing her hands either side of his head again and closing her eyes. Nikolai drew in a sharp breath as he felt Kate’s conscious meld with his own, her eyes seeing through his - a series of flashes like a movie montage, bright colours all blending together. The sensation was strange, like flying with the feeling of travelling quickly through a massive network of pathways and tunnels, some dark, some light as Kate searched, searched for that which was wrong, that which was out of place.
And there it was.
Darkness.
Spidering out from a central core with tentacles that stretched, like the branches of a tree, touching everything. It surged and swelled, spreading out like a cancer… and it was growing. It emitted a loud screech, like fingers being scraped down a blackboard.
Kate cringed at the sound, that made her bones vibrate and her blood turn to ice. She tried to touch the… creature, but it recoiled from her, shrinking back like a wary animal and screeching again.
“I don’t want to hurt you…” Kate said gently, trying to attune herself to its rhythms, battling to penetrate this creature’s psyche. She didn’t know what this… this thing was, but like the spirit guide Garak, Nikolai’s subconscious had given it form, an essence, something with which she could communicate.
“Who are you?” she asked, hearing her voice echo back. “What are you?”
From within its core, the blackness spoke, a hissing, viperous sound like the air being released from a balloon. “I am a perversion… that which corrupts all morality and boundaries, I am the great liberator.”
Kate frowned… she could sense that the entity spoke the truth, perhaps, like Garak, it was incapable of lying, only able to disguise its answers in paradoxical riddles. “How did you get here?” she asked.
“I have travelled far since my conception, I multiply amongst my hosts, sometimes I am successful, sometimes not. In those that I meet resistance I merely die, but in those which I thrive… I become consuming, powerful… they cannot deny me, there is no resistance…”
“But Nikolai has resisted you,” Kate interrupted archly, “he knows you are not a part of him.”
“An exception to the rule. I am strong; I am as intoxicating as the most powerful liquor, as potent as the most addictive drug. Those that cannot resist my call are victims to my suggestion. Without conscience, without remorse, without feeling, without heart…”
Kate shuddered at the complete malevolence of the entity, wishing to draw back, to return to the waking world but she couldn’t, if she broke contact now she might never get another chance.
“You are a parasite,” she stated, interrupting the harangue and summarising aloud what she had already been told, “feeding off a host, growing more powerful as they grow weaker, more susceptible to your corrupting influence. You are… a virus?”
The entity hissed, “…I am…”
“Then you can be defeated?” Kate asked quickly. “Why did you choose Nikolai?”
The creature hissed again, its tentacles contorting and writhing. “He has what I need… I am alive and I must feed… Mana, it is the purest form of living energy existent in all supernatural beings, it is greater than blood, more enduring than the flesh and more resilient than the soul.”
Kate looked confused again, “Mana is… magic?”
“Mana is everything…” hissed the entity with a short cackle, “that which enables the mage, fuels the psychic, empowers the empath… remove the mana and…”
“You die?”
Before the creature could reply, Kate felt herself being dragged back, pulled along those intricate paths, through tangled networks with bright colours until, with a sharp gasp, Kate opened her eyes, looking directly into Nikolai’s.
Slowly she removed her hands from his head, feeling more than a little disorientated and dizzy from her journey.
“Are… are you okay?” asked Nikolai in concern as he began to regain control of his faculties. Kate looked harrowed and pale and he could hear her rapid breathing. “Are you okay?” he asked again, reaching out and taking her hand.
Kate gasped again at Nikolai’s touch. Her body was tingling from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. Her lips felt numb and swollen, and it took her a moment to find her voice without it sticking in her throat. “Did you... did you see all that?”
Nikolai stumbled back, looking around. With the contact broken so suddenly, it took him a few moments to reorient himself to Kate’s living room. The entity had been… strange. So cold, so dark.
“Yes,” he said softly, his Russian accent returning to him. He felt so tired, that it wasn’t worth the trouble to even attempt to keep the American non-accent. Nikolai yawned before collapsing back down in the chair again. “So what… what do you think of it? More to the point, how do I get out?”
Kate tried to centre herself, tried to make sense of everything that she had heard and seen. “Mana…” she said quietly, “it feeds on mana, corrupts it and makes the host a slave to their animal desires… without remorse.”
She looked up at Nikolai, who seemed confused and not really following her. Kate’s attention turned to the hallway as the grandfather clock chimed the midnight hour. Her eyes grew wide with alarm, she would be late tonight. Marcus would be annoyed, think she was undisciplined and not committed. As much as she wanted to help Nikolai, wanted to figure out this intriguing puzzle, she couldn’t do it now. She had to focus on what was truly important, and that was Emma.
“Look… Koyla…” she said gently, stroking his forehead soothingly. “You seem tired and, well to be honest, I could do with going to bed too. Why don’t you spend the night here and we can talk through things in the morning?”
Nikolai nodded, having a hard time keeping his eyes open. "Yes," he yawned. "That sounds like a good idea, thank you." Then he shut his eyes again and was soon dead to the world.
Piecing Together the Puzzle
Sunday, 22 April 2007 – 9:08am
The house was very quiet despite the fact that most of the occupants had been awake for over an hour. Galen and Jack were downstairs in the kitchen. The sound of cutlery and plates being set out could be heard clearly from the landing as Kate stepped out of her bedroom, pausing momentarily to secure her robe around her waist.
She had woken a few minutes ago, feeling dizzy and nauseous from lack of sleep. She’d had barely three hours worth after getting back from her lesson with Marcus the night before. Her complexion was even more pallid and wan than usual and Kate pinched her cheeks, forcing a pink flush to the surface and breathing life into her tired features.
Stifling a yawn behind the back of her hand, Kate slowly pushed open the door to the spare bedroom. It was situated at the far end of the house and secluded from the hubbub that continued downstairs.
Inside Nikolai slept though he appeared far from restful. Kate walked over to the window and drew back the heavy drapes, allowing a few rays of sunshine into the darkened room before she moved over to the bedside. Galen had been the one to bring Koyla upstairs after he fell asleep on the couch last night. He’d even got him into an old pair of pyjamas, affording him every comfort that was his to bestow.
Kate on the other hand, had been out the window and shinning down the tree off to meet Marcus before the house had even been settled. It had been a risk to go out so early especially while people were still awake, but the thing with Nikolai had made her considerably late and she hadn’t wanted to risk annoying Marcus or give him the impression that she was no longer committed to his teachings.
She felt guilty about that; leaving Nikolai after such an intensive mind probing session was not the kindest thing she could have done and was just one of the reasons why she’d wanted to see how he was this morning.
Kate pulled up a small lounge chair and sat down at the bedside. The bedsheets were tangled around Nikolai like he’d been tossing and turning all night and Kate did her best to straighten them out, folding the ends back neatly. She gently ran her hand over the man’s perspiration-soaked forehead; he had a slight temperature too and Kate frowned, using the thin cotton material of her robe sleeve to dry him down.
Nikolai moaned quietly, rolling away from her and burying his face in the pillows while his breathing grew more frantic and heavily paced.
“Koyla?” Kate called out, her voice not very loud but still filled with concern as she rose to her feet and leaned over the bed to try and wake him. She took hold of his shoulders and rocked him gently, “Koyla!” she called out again, more loudly this time.
Suddenly, Nikolai screamed, bolting upright in bed and causing Kate to jump back in shock, clasping a hand over her furiously beating heart.
Nikolai sat up, looking around the room as he struggled to catch his breath. A confused expression spread across his face as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings. He was encircled by four magnolia walls, which bore antique watercolour paintings of horticulture, flowers and plants and the like. There were several pieces of equally antiquated furniture, a mahogany dresser with the mirror tilted up slightly, reflecting the view from a nearby window, and a set of drawers with photographs of family portraits and small babies lining the uppermost surface.
Looking around in a sleepy haze, trying to rid himself of that feeling of being in a waking dream, Nikolai saw Kate standing a little way back, still with a particularly surprised grimace on her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, still looking around. “Just a bad dream… a very bad dream…”
“That’s okay,” Kate said softly, sitting back down in the chair at the bedside, “You looked like you were having a nightmare, I should have known better than try to wake you.” Noticing Nikolai’s continued bafflement at his surroundings Kate smiled slightly. “Spare room,” she explained simply. “You fell asleep downstairs after the… …do you remember? Galen brought you up, put you to bed… it’s more comfortable than the couch.”
He felt like collapsing in tears one more time. Again as in the dream he saw Damen look around the room, the recognition of his fate and betrayal on his face. Then the lifeless look as he lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
Then Nikolai looked down and noticed that he had somehow changed clothes as well. Ok, so he had been a bit drunk, and that coupled with the mental session with Kate probably killed his memory of the night before. Still, as far as he could remember he had passed out on the couch. “No, nothing… I think I had a bit too much to drink,” he started.
Stopping, there was one thing he did remember. Something dark… evil... He shuddered in recollection. “Just that there was something… in me. Dark and cold. Do you know what the worst part is?” he said. “It’s still a part of me, the darkness… there can’t be any nobility without the capacity to be monstrous.”
Kate also shuddered as she recalled the feeling of communicating with the dark and decidedly evil creature that seemed to lurk inside the recesses of Nikolai’s mind. “Koyla…” she said gently, “you said… Last night, you said that you’d ordered a man to be murdered…” Kate’s voice trailed off a little, there were other things that they needed to discuss, especially what she had learnt from the entity, but this was more important.
“This is important, Koyla,” she insisted, “If someone is going to die we have to stop it.”
“It’s too late,” he said quietly. “Too late. The deed - we did it last night. It was the last straw… the last thing that let me see what was happening, what I was becoming again…”
Nikolai trailed off as the recollections hit him. Again he saw himself standing there, Damen’s head snapped back with the impact. Nikolai collapsed forward in tears again. He couldn’t take it any more, didn’t want to take it any more. And Garak had been right, they didn’t know how long this ‘immunity’ of his would last. Suddenly he made a decision.
“You have to promise me,” Nikolai said after a few minutes. “Promise me, that… that if I go back… if nothing can be done, you have to kill me.”
“Kolya-” protested Kate.
“I can’t go on like this, Katya,” Nikolai interrupted, “You have to kill me if nothing can be done.”
*What is it with people wanting me to kill them?* thought Kate morbidly as she remembered the note that Chance had given her asking a similar promise of her. She grimaced as the image of Damen laying dead with a bullet hole in his head, a rapidly expanding pool of blood circling him like a crimson halo flashed through Nikolai’s mind, echoing in her own. *Oh, Gaia,* she thought desperately, closing her eyes in mortification, *He had him killed, he had Damen killed…*
“I’m not killing you,” said Kate unequivocally, the tone of her voice making it clear that there was no room for negotiation. “I’ve seen enough death to last me a life time, after everything that I’ve been through… with Emma… how can you even ask?”
Nikolai tried to break in but Kate cut him off sharply, the corners of her eyes downcast sadly. “There is always another way, Koyla,” she insisted. “What you’ve done is wrong, there’s no denying that, it’s… hideous… but this thing that’s inside of you, this evil… Koyla, it’s some sort of virus, I don’t know why you have it or how you got it, but I think it’s the key to why you’re behaving the way you are, turning back to your old life. It’s not you, not the real you anyway. Koyla…”
Kate reached out and took hold of his hand, squeezing it hard, “If there’s a way that we can get rid of this thing then we have to try.”
Nikolai nodded in consideration. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry, you’re right,” he conceded. Though he couldn’t think of any way at all to permanently cure it, he knew that he couldn’t go back to the way that he was before. Still… a virus…
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?
“Kolya? What’s wrong?” he heard Kate ask, as a distant look came over his face.
Nikolai thought for a moment. It seemed so strange, but it might be a hint to what was going on. “He knew,” he whispered. “I can’t make you walk the path… maybe that’s what he meant. I was… ill… physically earlier, and then after that - that’s when I got back in. Maybe it’s connected…” he stopped to laugh. “Or maybe I’m just looking for excuses.”
He knew? The spirit guide? What was his name… Garak? Kate sighed, it was difficult talking to Nikolai sometimes and she idly wondered what he had been like before the merging with L’Than. *A brutal killer remember? I think I prefer weird Nikolai after all.*
“When I was in your mind,” began Kate, frowning in contemplation, “the guide… Garak, he said maybe he knew a little more about what was going on than you. I got the feeling he was telling the truth.” *Though a manifestation of the mind isn’t much of a point of reference.*
“The… evil that I ‘talked’ to… it had a form, not quite like Garak but… it told me that it feeds off this thing called mana – I’m not even sure what that is… ‘living energy’ is what it called it, but, I mean, I’ve never heard that term before.” Kate squeezed Nikolai’s hand again, “I think you have this because you have this mana inside of you, and that’s what this virus is feeding on.”
“Mana…” Nikolai said carefully. He wasn’t quite sure exactly what it could be referring to, but knew they would need to research it. Add that to the list of things to do along with the rumours about the Council that - oh god! How was he supposed to get out? He was made.
Worse. How was he supposed to tell Alicia? What was he supposed to tell her? That he had reverted to the old ways because of a virus, but now he was afraid that he was unable to get out? It seemed… he felt like the universe was conspiring against him, to put him in the worst position possible.
A place suddenly occurred to him. India. There was something there, somewhere he could go… No. Not yet. He couldn’t leave, not until this was settled. When this was all over, though… he had to go… As Kate held him, he knew that he had to be projecting his thoughts. He could tell from her feelings that she was almost overwhelmed, picking up on his thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he apologised.
“It’s just, I feel so lost, like I need to go try to find myself… but I can’t. Not until this is over. What am I supposed to tell Alicia?”
Kate furrowed her brow tiredly; she was probably the last person to give relationship advice right now considering the precarious state of her marriage. She and Galen might be together again – in the loosest sense of the word - well he was living under the same roof as her at least. But they still had a long way to go before they would be reconciled, even if such a thing was possible. Still, Nikolai needed some kind of solace and she was the only one available to provide it right now.
“I find the truth generally works best in the long run,” Kate said with another squeeze of her hand, “Alicia’s an intelligent woman and it’s obvious that she cares for you. I think you’d be surprised at how much a woman can forgive the man she loves.”
Kate sighed, observing her friend carefully; he was still so distressed and obviously confused about the new turn of this situation. This virus, or whatever it was that they were facing, wasn’t something that would disappear over night; it would take time to figure out what this ‘mana’ was and even more time to find a cure. Time that they might not have.
“As for everything else… I don’t know what to say apart from… you got yourself out of that life once, and you became a better man, a man who valued life, a man that people could respect – not because they feared him, but because of the good things that he did, that you did. If you made that transition once, Koyla, I know you can do it again.”
Nikolai dropped his head, feeling some small comfort at her words but… she’d seen his mind, probably knew him better than anyone else alive. But even so, there were still other things that she had to know.
“Only because of L’Than,” he said softly. “Katya… I got out because of despair. Because I didn’t see any point to killing people who deserved it - yes, deserved it; I had a code to what jobs I took - not when for every monster I destroyed, another rose to take his place. And I missed the life for two years. I… I sent… I sent my own father to the gulag. You understand what that means, don’t you?”
He turned away from her, unable to bear the thought of his friend even looking at him. The decent man she thought that she knew was an illusion, something created by someone else. Something that she’d created, and without her, still the killer for hire. “I’ll do whatever I can to finish what I started. Finding out about Ambrose Delancre, the truth of his ‘renegades’ and now this. But when this is all over… Katya, can you take care of Tolstoy for me?”
“Koyla…” said Kate gently, shaking her head in dismay. Nikolai was talking about the mob, about the more questionable aspects of his past and his greatest concern was his cat?
“I know what you did to your father,” Kate said softly, “but I also know what he did to you and your mother, the kind of abuse that he was capable of inflicting, and did quite often. You protected your family, in the only way you knew how. You got yourself out of that situation and like a good son, wanted to do the same for your mother.”
Kate looked up into Nikolai’s dark eyes, sadness etched into each of her features. “And how were you supposed to know? When the only life you had known was one of fear and anger and taking what you wanted by force? If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight. If he lives with criticism, he learns to condemn.”
She gently rubbed her fingers over Nikolai’s hand in a soothing, comforting motion. “You were still a child when you joined the KGB, when that man Soberov took you and turned you into a killer. I’m not trying to make excuses for what you’ve done in your past, but there is always a chance to change, to turn your life around and make something good out of the pain.”
Kate let go of Nikolai’s hand and held her palm flat against his chest, above the beat of his heart. “And you can be good again if you make that choice. L’Than is still inside of you, because she is you, the both of you are one and the same, and I don’t believe that she would have chosen to merge with just anyone. You told me how she healed you, how she’d made it her mission to heal you spiritually too, so she must have known that there was good inside of you, she must have known that there was something in you worth saving.”
Nikolai finally smiled. Maybe she was right, maybe she wasn’t. All he knew was that he couldn’t find the answers here. “Thank you, Katya,” he finally said. “You are too kind. Whatever I can do to help resolve this, I will.”
Kate mirrored Nikolai’s smile, though she could still sense the uncertainty inside him. But then again he’d killed one of his closest friends only a couple of days ago, he wasn’t likely to let go of that grief and guilt any time soon. If ever.
*And what about Reah?* thought Kate sadly, *Does she know about any of this? How will she take it when she finds out?* Her and Reah might not be on the most friendly terms any more… (Kate scoffed to herself at that thought - *yeah, Reah and include everyone else in that equation*) but she wouldn’t wish her any ill will, and considering how much Damen’s deception had hurt her, how would she fare knowing one of her friends had murdered him?
Kate took a deep breath and cleared those thoughts from her head, turning instead to more practical matter. “Well we need to research this mana thing, and maybe get some tests done on the virus.” Kate suddenly frowned, “I wonder if anyone else has been infected…”
“Well if it is a virus, I had to catch it from someone,” Nikolai said. He wasn’t sure exactly how they would know who, or how to trace it. But after what it did to him… “If it affects other people the same way, we just need to find out who got made in the past few months,” he joked rather morbidly. “Oh well. Just point me in the direction of the library and I’ll get started right away.”
Kate didn’t laugh at Nikolai’s joke; she just didn’t find it funny. They could potentially be facing some kind of epidemic here and she couldn’t cope with that right now. At this moment in time she had to concentrate all her efforts into the ritual to bring Emma back from the Other Side.
“And this ‘thing’ with Ambrose and his… ‘renegades’?” asked Kate tightly, *Oh please don’t let this be another apocalypse on the horizon, not now…*
Nikolai sighed; he didn’t really want to think about it. Not with what he’d - *No. Focus on what needs to be done.* “Alicia has heard rumours about the Council’s new First Elder,” he started. If he was going to tell her everything, he might as well tell her everything.
“She thought it might just be politics of the Council, but apparently she knows about his retraining of a demon named Ryan or something like that. But that’s not the interesting thing. The interesting thing is Alessa. She was taken by some Watchers and held in a facility in Colombia. Recently Dmitri charged me with finding out about it. So we, er, questioned a guard connected to it. The Council does have a facility in Colombia officially owned by a company called Stevenson. And that it’s used for some kind of training - the guard had seen demons in the training area before.”
“That’s what I know for certain,” Nikolai finished. “I have my other theories, but I don’t want to say more. Not until we’re absolutely certain about what’s going on. All I will say is don’t trust the Watchers.”
Kate blinked several times at the overload of information. She remembered Alicia telling her similar things about Ambrose around the time that Ryan had ‘returned from the dead’ and staked his claim to Daye. Kate felt a twinge of annoyance at that thought, how she had put herself in danger to save Daye from Ryan, from Mother Mariah and how that devotion and friendship had been repaid.
“I really don’t like the sound of all this, Delancre comes to Los Angeles with a small army of demonic foot soldiers and suddenly there are rumours of a secret demon training facility in Colombia, that just happens to be the same place where Alessa was taken to?” Kate shook her head as though refusing to believe it.
“We should tell Tash; she can’t know about all this, she would never trust Delancre if she suspected he was party to something like this.”
“Not yet,” Nikolai suddenly said in concern. He still remembered the last meeting of the ‘White Hats’ well. “If you will recall, I tried to tell her of my concerns at the final meeting of the White Hats. She was satisfied with his explanation that these are ‘rebels’ in Colombia, and that he is dealing with them.” Though there was an unanswered question: if Delancre knew about them and had his small demon army, why was he in Los Angeles instead of shutting that facility down? Surely he had the power to do so.
“Of course, it may be little more than a coincidence, but I learned a long time ago not to trust coincidences.” Still he sighed. He almost couldn’t believe that he was debating how much of this to tell Alicia. What if… what if she had been sent to make sure that none of them found out? How could he even consider that possibility?
“Tash seemed more than willing to believe what Delancre said, despite the fact that her powers have failed her before. Damen…” he trailed off remembering what happened, then forced himself to continue. “Damen fooled her. I think I did as well, despite what she claims. You would be amazed how easy it is to let someone fool themselves.”
“Maybe you’re right,” agreed Kate, probably a little too quickly. She wasn’t in any hurry to see Tash again after what had happened last time and if Nikolai thought it was better that they didn’t go rushing over to Poplar Avenue to convince her of what they suspected, then that was just fine with her. “It would be better to have some proof that Ambrose is involved, if he IS involved. And in the meantime, we should research mana and the virus and do what needs to be done to get you well again.”
Kate smiled at that, it was weird after the past few days she’d heard those words lots of times though they had always been directed AT HER. “Well…” she said after a moment’s silence, rising to her feet. She breathed in deeply as the aroma of pancakes and bacon wafted into the room.
“I think that husband of mine must be making breakfast for the Trojan army,” Kate held out her hand, “Care to find out?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 21st April 2007 – 1:25pm
Carrying the blood-soaked cloth, Tash returned to her apartment from the training room and carefully placed it into a zip-lock bag. Her face glowed with both exertion and smugness.
She’d naturally apologised profusely for the slip in concentration that had resulted in a thrust coming too close and nicking Alice’s arm, and had immediately grabbed a gauze pad from the First Aid kit to soak up the blood. Luckily it was a shallow cut and after a moment the flow stopped. Tash had cleaned her blade with the rag and then discarded the cloth into the otherwise empty bin. When her sparring session with Alice was over, Tash stayed to ‘clean up’ after her friend had left for her own apartment.
Now Tash gazed at the fruits of her labour for a moment before she changed to go out.
*****
Delancre positively beamed at Tash as he sent the gift she’d brought him to his laboratories. The servitor shuffled out bearing his precious cargo, leaving the two of them alone in the room again.
“Excellent work – well done.” He paused, his eyes unfocusing for a moment as he pondered his next move. Coming to a decision, he nodded.
“Natasha,” Delancre began, “if that sample comes back positive as Alicenoko’s – and I don’t doubt that it will – I believe it is time I checked on the status of the facilities on Isla Nublada. I have several samples ready for transport, and I’m keen that no time be wasted in starting work on the lovely Alicenoko’s by storing hers here a moment longer than is necessary. Would you perhaps like to accompany me to Colombia? It will only be a short stay, I’m afraid. Overnight only. But I feel you deserve to see more of my work.”
A slow smile spread over Tash’s face. Here it was; a chance to get inside the Colombian facilities. She was sure there was much to be learned there, and was only disappointed that she’d have such a short time frame to work in. “I’d love to go,” she said, “When do we leave?”
Delancre pursed his lips together. “Tomorrow morning, I believe. I will leave Ana in charge while I am gone.”
You, Me, Together at Last
Sunday, 22 April 2007 – 11:34am
Galen looked up from his newspaper as he noticed Kate’s thoughtful gaze. She sat next to him at the kitchen table, her chin resting on her hand as she stared vacantly across the room. Nikolai had left not so long ago after breakfast had been finished, and Jack had also withdrawn to the study, explaining how he had much work to sort through. That had left husband and wife alone and with an unprecedented opportunity to talk without intrusion.
“Kate?” Galen said gently, folding away his paper and taking hold of her free hand. “Is everything all right? You seem so… I don’t know, distant I guess. Like you’re off living in your own world most of the time.” It was an understatement and Galen realised it as soon as the words left his mouth. Kate had been ‘distant’ ever since he had come home, though at least her ramblings and sudden outbursts had become significantly reduced.
“Hmmm?” said Kate as though she hadn’t really heard what he’d been saying. “I was just thinking about what Koyla said, you know, about Delancre and this island in Colombia… and then there’s this whole mana thing…”
Galen’s lower lip crinkled in disapproval, they’d discussed things briefly at breakfast and he was less than happy with the situation. “Nikolai should know better than to burden you with things like this, especially in your- well… with everything-”
Galen stopped mid-sentence for the second time, sighing in frustration, “You should be taking things easy is all I’m saying. You’ve been through a lot recently and you’re only just starting to…” *get back to normal,* “…well, what I mean is, you don’t need all this extra responsibility.”
“Koyla is ill, all I want to do is help him get better,” said Kate reasonably, placing her other hand on top of Galen’s and stroking her fingers across the back of his hand tenderly. “Everything else, these rumours about Ambrose and his involvement in Alessa’s kidnap… well, you’re probably right, it more than likely is just idle gossip and unsubstantiated rumour, but it’s worth checking out right?”
Galen sighed; leaning in and stroking back Kate’s hair from her face, gently cradling the side of her cheek in his free hand. He had to admit, though he worried she was taking too much on she was sounding much more like her old self and that could only be a good thing. Maybe after everything that had happened, they needed something bigger than the two of them to help reset the balance, to put things into perspective again.
“Okay,” Galen agreed after a moment, “but I still don’t want you leaving the house, not by yourself anyway. If you have to go somewhere, then I will come with you…” He shuffled awkwardly in his chair, feeling bad for treating Kate like she was a prisoner in her home, or even worse, incapable of making decisions for herself. But despite her improvement and Nikolai’s warning not to be too overprotective of her, Galen wasn’t ready to let Kate out of his sight just yet.
If he was being honest, he couldn’t help but look upon her sudden improvement as suspicious. Kate had been so... well, disturbed for want of a better word. Her behaviour had been wild - he would even go so far as to say unhinged… He just couldn’t believe that she had been ‘cured’ by a couple of tranquillisers and a few sessions of therapy with Dr Brown.
“Well I have some books of my own that I want to look through in regard to this ‘mana’ thing,” said Kate tentatively. She didn’t like the way Galen was treating her recently either, overprotective to the point of suffocation. She couldn’t go anywhere without either Jack or Galen following her… watching her every move.
Galen nodded, perceiving her annoyance quite clearly, but he didn’t care, he just wanted to keep her safe and this was the only way he could ensure that. “Research might not be my forte, but you know that I’ll help in any way that I can. I mean, I always have in the past… and the library is full of all those books you had shipped in from England months back, in fact. I don’t think we ever unpacked them.”
Kate nodded her head, deep in thought again. Galen watched her closely for a moment, a concerned frown creasing his forehead. Gently, he squeezed her hand again.
“Kate? There’s something else isn’t there? Apart from this whole thing with Nikolai, I mean.” He continued to stroke her fingers softly, “You’re thinking about Emma, aren’t you?”
Kate looked up suddenly, her eyes locking with her husband’s in recognition.
Galen’s features relaxed some and he smiled gently. “I can tell… when you think about her you get this far off look in your eyes and this smile that isn’t quite a smile... it’s sort of happy, but sad at the same time.” Galen echoed that expression without even realising it, his warm brown eyes mirroring the unhappiness he saw in his wife.
“It’s okay, you know?” he said gently, “I think about her too.”
Kate let a long, uncomfortable sigh escape her lips, “I think about her all the time,” she confessed, disconsolately, letting her gaze drop. “I think about… what we would be doing now, if she had never- if she was still here. We were going to take that vacation in May remember? For her birthday? We were going to show her the ocean, take long walks on the beach, make sandcastles…” A warmth seemed to light up Kate’s face as she stared off into the distance again.
“I still have clothes that I’d bought for her, sundresses and little matching hats, that kind of thing.” Kate frowned sadly, “She won’t ever get to wear them, I know I should take them back… but I just can’t.”
Galen’s fingers tightened their grip around Kate’s hand supportively. He knew how she felt, even though his reaction had been the complete opposite. Kate was so desperate to hold on to every little thing of their daughter’s, from clothes and toys to the cup Emma had drunk from or even silly things like a scrap of paper that she had scribbled on. She just wasn’t prepared to let anything go.
Meanwhile Galen couldn’t stand to have those constant reminders around him; it was what made living in this house again so difficult for him. The first few days had been a veritable nightmare as he stumbled on toy bears and found tiny socks and rompers in the laundry room waiting to be ironed and taken upstairs. At least he had managed to gather everything into one place, packing it away in the nursery, still, knowing that there was an entire room filled with Emma’s things… he could barely walk past the door without feeling that pang of misery hit him.
“We shouldn’t be afraid to talk about her you know?” Galen said eventually, stroking away a few tears that had rolled down Kate’s cheeks. “Emma… she, she was our daughter, she will always be our daughter. No matter how much it hurts, I don’t want to ever forget her.”
“Neither do I.”
Kate looked at their hands as they were joined together, resting on the soft wood of the kitchen table. Galen’s slight touch against her face had been so gentle; his attentiveness made her hope for things that she had convinced herself were lost to the both of them. Slowly she looked back up into Galen’s eyes. “There’s something that I h-have to tell you…” she said quietly, her voice breathy and hesitant. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now, b-but I didn’t know how you… how you might take it.”
Galen looked at her curiously but was silent, allowing her to continue.
Kate paused, glancing back at their joined hands, their fingers intertwined tightly as though they were afraid that someone might suddenly try to pull them apart. Galen’s thick, sturdy fingers enclosed the delicate frailty of Kate’s, caressing her flesh gently, comforting, encouraging, and she wondered how they’d ever managed to end up like this.
“Do you think that there’s a chance for us?” she asked suddenly, her voice trembling with uncertainty as though she was afraid to know the answer. “After everything that’s happened… do you think that we can ever get back what we had? Do you think you can ever love me that way again?”
Galen looked away sadly, he’d known that such a conversation had to come eventually he just wasn’t prepared for it being now. “Things have changed,” he said slowly, choosing his words with careful consideration. “I don’t know if they will ever be the same as they were between us… But I do love you,” he admitted with absolute conviction. “I can’t imagine ever not loving you and so I can’t just give up on us. I think if we both want it enough, then we can make it work.”
“You’re not disgusted when you look at me?”
Galen’s eyes crinkled in adoration, “No,” he said softly, shaking his head. He knew he had said those words once in anger, in disappointment, and he HAD felt that way at the time.
But not any more.
It felt quite strange as he acknowledged that change in his feelings but it was true, he didn’t feel disgusted any more. He found it impossible to hate a woman that he loved so much, whose happiness he was more committed to securing than anything else.
“I can’t say that it doesn’t still hurt when I think about you… and him. But I love you more than all that, and who am I to judge anyway? I’ve treated you badly through all of this… Kate, I’m so sorry…”
Kate sighed tiredly and broke her gaze away from that of her husband; lowering her head and letting her hair fall across her face. “I know,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I just don’t know how we got to this place, how everything that we had together could be shattered so easily, so quickly. I never wanted to hurt you Galen.”
Kate looked up into her husband’s face again. “There is no other man that I want to be with apart from you… it’s always been you. I know I hurt you, I hurt you so much… and I feel like, it was my fault, I pushed you into Amanda’s bed. If I hadn’t-” Kate looked sick with herself and turned away again. “If I hadn’t done what I did, nothing would have turned out the way it has.”
Galen squeezed her hand in response and shook his head, “No Kate, no, you’re wrong. You can’t blame yourself for everything that’s gone wrong between us; I’m just as guilty. I… I should never have blamed you for what happened to Emma, I should never have pushed you away.”
Galen shook his head again though this time the gesture was filled with dismay. “I was stupid, and angry… angry at the wrong person. If there was anyone that would have understood how I was feeling, it was you, but instead of talking, instead of telling you how I felt I shut you out. I made a stone of my heart, but I won’t make that mistake again, I promise.”
Galen smiled and their hands tightened, strengthening that hold across the table. Kate smiled contentedly too, but soon her levity was replaced with an awkward, uneasy frown.
“The reason why I… why I needed to know…” Kate paused, hesitating again. She didn’t want to go on but she knew she had to, if they had any future she had to. “The- the thing that I had to tell you…”
Galen reached out with his free hand and took Kate’s, now he held both her hands and he wasn’t in any rush to let go. “What is it?” he encouraged kindly, “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
Kate looked away, “I, I wasn’t going to say anything… but I’d rather you find out now and have you leave me while I might still be able to survive it,” she inhaled slowly, “than have you find out later and have to go through all this again.” She freed one of her hands so that she could reach out and stroke his cheek gently. “I don’t want to lose you…”
Galen looked worried but he took hold of Kate’s hand again and held it firmly in his own. “You won’t, but you have to tell me, whatever it is. I promise I won’t leave you okay?”
Kate looked doubtful but she nodded her head in agreement. She frowned for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject. “Do you remember the solstice last year?”
“How could I forget with all the madness that went on?”
“Well… I mean before all that. You asked me something, do you remember?”
Galen nodded slowly. “I remember… we decided to try for another baby.” He looked at Kate thoughtfully, trying in vain to fathom out what she might be trying to tell him. “Look Kate… if this is about wanting to try for another baby… I mean, I know we might want to in the future but I just think that right now, with things as they are… well it’s just not a good time for you to be pregnant.”
“I know,” said Kate in complete agreement, “I guess… I guess my body felt the same way too.”
Galen’s eyes looked questioningly at his wife, “What do you mean?”
“I was pregnant Galen,” she said simply, “Eight weeks… maybe a little longer. The foetus was underdeveloped so they couldn’t tell for sure…” Kate looked up to see the horrified look in Galen’s eyes. “I had a miscarriage,” she explained finally.
Galen shook his head in disbelief, he couldn’t believe what she was telling him and it took a moment for him to realise that he wasn’t even breathing any more. “A… a miscarriage?” he stammered uncertainly, “When? How? What…? What happened? Kate?”
“You have really beautiful eyes,” she said suddenly, looking up into his face, slipping her hand free once more and stroking his cheek again with her fingers. “I’ve seen your eyes in a hundred dreams from then till now, I… tried to imagine how they might look today… whether they would be hard and cold, or warm and gentle…” she smiled softly, running her fingers over the bridge of his nose and over his eyelids.
“Kate,” said Galen again, taking her hands in his tightly in an attempt to keep her focused. “When did you have a miscarriage?”
“Five weeks and four days ago,” she answered faintly, as though she were looking back, reliving those events. “I was just out walking. You’d moved out the day before and, well I just needed to get out of the house. I bumped into Amanda that day, I didn’t even know where I was but she took me to her apartment and sat me down and told me how she’d seduced you and… done things to you in that very room where I sat.”
Galen flinched at her words, feeling a sting of guilt in his heart.
“I couldn’t believe it,” Kate continued quietly, “the way she just admitted to it was like she was proud of it, like she was enjoying seeing the hurt on my face. She told me how she saw how vulnerable you were that night and how she knew with the right words that she could get what she wanted. She laughed Galen, she laughed at how Emma had died and that you had left me and how powerless I was to stop any of it from happening.”
Galen frowned coolly, his body felt rigid with anger at what she was telling him, of the horrible, heartless way she’d had to find out about his slip up with Daye.
“When I left I just remember running, I don’t even know where I was running to I just needed to get away from her, from that place and I… I ended up in the park. One minute I was fine, I mean as fine as I could be after finding out what I did… I remember, my heart was hurting and my throat was sore from crying so much. I guess, lots of people must have been staring at me, wondering what on earth was going on but I didn’t notice.”
Galen felt his hands tightening around the hold he had on Kate, he couldn’t believe that she’d gone through all this on her own, without anyone to help her.
“The next thing I knew there was this pain, deep down inside. It hurt so much and, and I was so scared… and the blood… it was just everywhere, I didn’t even know what was happening to me. I just felt embarrassed and afraid and I could feel myself falling but I couldn’t stop. When I came to there were people all around me and that pain was still there… they took me to the hospital…”
Kate sighed wearily; it was taking all her strength just to talk about this after so long, to make herself relive every moment, every feeling…
“They gave me painkillers and… things… I wasn’t supposed to know what they were doing but I could feel it. Feel them poking around inside me… they didn’t say anything but I knew, I mean I guess I knew what had happened, it’s kind of ironic when you think about it. I was so desperate to get pregnant, I used to think after every time we made love maybe this time we’d have done it… made a new life, and every morning I’d wake up and wonder… looking, waiting for some sign and there was nothing.”
A slight frown spread on Galen’s face but he remained silent, letting Kate talk and get everything out.
“Then when Emma died, I just forgot… just like that. I didn’t even notice, the morning sickness and other things, I just thought it was because I was grieving. How could I have known that… all that time when I was crying and feeling so empty… all that time, there was this new life struggling to grow inside of me. I was carrying our baby and I didn’t even know until it was all gone.”
Galen’s face fell entirely; he could hardly even feel his breathing any more. “Oh my god,” he mouthed, his voice almost inaudible.
“An ’incomplete miscarriage’ – that’s what they called it,” continued Kate emptily, “because after all the bleeding there was still some of the baby left inside. Of course they don’t call it that, it’s ‘foetal tissue’ and they put you to sleep so you don’t know what’s happening. But I could feel it, could feel them put this thing inside me and scrape out what was left of my baby.”
“Oh Kate,” said Galen desperately as he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly even though she looked so fragile and delicate and part of him was afraid of breaking her. He buried his face in her hair, drying his tears, not wanting her to see him so distraught at what she’d told him.
“Why…” he began quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Call me from the hospital… or something?”
Kate frowned a little in confusion, “I asked remember? In case I needed you, in case of an emergency… but… you left me because you didn’t want to talk to me, because you couldn’t stand looking at me…” Kate looked up into Galen’s eyes as she saw the dawning light of comprehension in his face.
“I wanted to tell you…” she began to sob, sniffling as she tried to hold back her tears, but failing despite all her efforts. “But I just… I didn’t want you to know, you’d been through so much and, and I didn’t want to hurt you any more and… and…”
Galen looked into her tearful eyes. He couldn’t believe this had happened and he’d never known. That Kate had been pregnant again, that she’d had a miscarriage, he couldn’t imagine how she must have felt, so alone, so afraid… so desperate. “You thought that I’d blame you again, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know… maybe… I guess… I just felt like such a failure… what kind of woman loses both her babies in the space of three weeks?” Kate closed her eyes sadly, “And I wanted them both SO much, wanted to see them grow and turn into these people with their own ideas and thoughts and...”
Galen gently lay a hand on her abdomen, stroking carefully, feeling Kate’s warmth beneath the thin fabric of her clothes. Now he knew why she hadn’t wanted to be touched, hadn’t wanted Doctor Wallis to examine her. All this time she had been keeping this terrible secret, too afraid to say anything, too afraid of being judged again.
“I know…” he said gently, soothing her with his touch, “but we’ll get through this… I know we will, in time. And we will have our family, Kate. I promise you.”
Kate suddenly looked horrified and she moved back quickly, her chair scraping loudly on the kitchen floor.
"No… no… please Galen! Don’t make me go through all this again! I can’t, I can’t… do this, it hurts too much… I can feel them growing and then they’re gone!” she wept bitterly, wiping at her tears. “Please don’t, please don’t…” she clasped her hands over her abdomen, looking down at herself in frustration, “You put your seed in me, you gift me with life and I… kill it. You can’t make me pregnant again… please don’t…”
Galen watched in horror as tears of fear rolled down Kate’s cheeks. “Of course I won’t…” he said soothingly, moving close to her again. He held her again until he could feel her breathing become calmer. This was what he’d been afraid of, that the sudden return of her sanity was merely a fragile façade. He gently stroked Kate’s hair back from her face, wiping her tears away with his fingertips.
“I don’t want to do anything to hurt you Kate…” he said softly, “We can take our time, wait… as long as you like, I’m not gonna push you into anything. When you’re ready Kate, when you’re ready and not before, okay?”
Kate shook her head desperately, trying to pull back again but Galen wouldn’t relinquish his hold. “I… can’t, Galen,” she said woefully, “I can’t have your children, I can’t risk this happening again… I can’t lose another baby like this.”
She drew him in close, her eyes wide with terror. “I’m losing my mind,” she imparted, holding his face tight in her hands. “You don’t think I know how everyone looks at me? Why you keep me locked up in this house like some crazy person?!”
She pressed herself against Galen’s chest, her mouth only an inch from his ear as she spoke. “But I see things clearly now, I can strip back the veil and leave reality uncloaked, naked in my mind. But when I close my eyes, all I can see is them taking my baby away. Holding me down, reaching inside and taking him out…” She sobbed anxiously, holding on to Galen even more firmly. “He is so still, pale and grey looking and I see them taking him away because he’s dead but then at the last moment he opens his eyes and looks at me. Our little Peter…”
Galen frowned, biting his lower lip anxiously, she had seemed almost her old self before, but now? He couldn’t get used to the way in which she seemed to suddenly slip back, back into her own little world far away from where he could find her.
“Peter?” he asked warily.
Kate drew back and looked up at Galen as though he had just asked the most idiotic question in the world. “Yes, Peter! Our son!” she reminded him angrily. “He had your eyes…” she added wistfully, sliding from her chair and kneeling at his feet and resting her head on his knees. “He was beautiful… I wish you could have seen him…”
“Kate, look at me,” Galen ordered, grasping Kate’s face by either side, forcing her to look at him. He stared into her wild, almost feral looking eyes. “I know you’re in there somewhere Kate… I know you are, and I want you back. You have been through something terrible, but it wasn’t your fault, it was just one of those things. I wish I could turn the clock back, make things better but I can’t, I can only try and make it up to you now. But you have to try Kate, you have to try and fight this… this madness that is taking over you.”
Galen held Kate’s face even more firmly between his hands as he joined her in sitting on the kitchen floor. “These voices… you have to fight them, push them aside. Whatever they are saying to you, it isn’t true okay? You were a good mother to Emma, her death and this miscarriage were not your fault. You couldn’t have prevented either no matter how strong you are.” Galen looked deep into Kate’s eyes, trying desperately to reach her.
“I love you Kate, you are the only woman I will ever love until the day I die. I want to live the rest of my life with you, grow old with you. But you must come back to me, forgive yourself, let go of all the pain and I will take care of you.”
“No…” moaned Kate, “I can’t let go… you don’t understand, you don’t understand…”
“I do,” said Galen firmly, “I do understand. You have always been so strong, taken the weight of the world onto your shoulders. You’re a survivor, it’s what you do. Always willing to help other people when they need you, no matter what the cost. And you’ve saved the world, Kate. Everyone is always waiting for some big bad to strike, for some apocalypse to unfold – no one ever expects real life to tear your world apart. A sick child, feeling so desperate for someone to love you, to understand you that you make the stupid mistake of sleeping with a stranger, your marriage falling apart, losing a baby…”
He stroked her hair back gently, “Our world was falling down around us, but we couldn’t stop it from falling by using stakes or weapons or spells. We couldn’t fight it into submission, we had to ride it out, weather the storm. This is where it has taken us, and look where we are… back together, back in each other’s arms.”
“Back in each other’s arms?” repeated Kate, looking deeply into Galen’s eyes. She desperately wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure, not about anything any more.
Galen nodded, holding Kate close against him, leaning in slowly to lay a gentle kiss on her lips. “That’s right,” he soothed, kissing her a second time and letting his forehead rest against hers. “You and me, together, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 21st April 2007 – 7:15pm
Alice sat in a tree next to the grassy training area at Delancre's mansion watching Ana’s training techniques first hand.
A group of some forty demons stood before Ana, some of them fresh arrivals from the compound in Colombia to replace some of their losses. But Ana was feeling exasperated with the new troops. When she and Lord Delancre had come to LA they had hand-picked the finest of their army, and today she was noticing a misstep here and there among the troops. Scowling, she called for them to repeat their drill-set, keeping them at it until they all moved in unison, flowing as a single organism.
Finally she released them from the arduous set-piece drills and paired them up for sparring practise. From the corner of her eye she saw the new demon, Alice, simply sitting and watching, her legs dangling from the branch of the tree she'd used as an observation platform for the past three days. Her eyes flashing fire, Ana stalked over to the tree and stood beneath it, glaring upwards.
Alice grinned down at her. “Am I in the way here? They seem to be very ‘disciplined’.”
Ana bristled at Alice’s flippant tone. “Indeed, they are disciplined, unlike some. Did the Lord Delancre not give you instructions that you were to participate in the training? He seemed adamant that you should demonstrate some of your techniques, for us to incorporate into our sessions if they seem appropriate.” Ana’s voice grew more acerbic, “Or have you decided that you do not wish to fight against the tides of evil that threaten to swamp our fair Earth after all?”
Alice slid off her perch, dropping gracefully to the ground next to Ana. “I don’t take instruction well, but I can show you a thing or three sometime.”
“Well, then, since you're such an expert, why don't you amaze us all with some fabulous new technique?” Ana gestured to the arena where the demons still sparred.
“What, you want me to play in the kiddie pool with them? Tell you what, let’s you and I go out tonight and find us some hard targets.”
Ana snorted. “Well, I do have my scheduled patrols, you know. I was going out tonight with ten of the soldiers plus Natasha,” she said, “but you’re welcome to tag along if you like. We have a good lead on a vampire den in Culver City.”
“Tash can handle a den solo. I’m sure ten soldiers are more than overkill. Besides, I know a place or two where we can fight the good fight.”
Ana pondered for a moment. Lord Delancre had instructed her to obtain more information about the demoness Alicenoko, and thus far all she’d seen was how well Alice sat and watched. “Very well,” she said finally, “but I shall need to clear the change of plans with Sir Ambrose.”
“Oh I understand, dear. We must get your Watcher’s permission.”
Sparing Alice a withering look, Ana stalked off, issuing a command to the demons as she passed that caused the group to snap back to rigid attention. They remained that way until Ana returned several minutes later, her face exuding far less hostility than it had been.
“Sir Ambrose has agreed to let Miss Brookes lead the patrol tonight, so that you and I may direct our efforts elsewhere,” she stated. Ana ventured a tight smile, doing her best to behave as her master had instructed.
“Be read-” Cutting herself off, Ana strove for a less demanding tone. “Will you be ready in two hours?”
Alice smiled, “Oh yes, dear. Two hours will be just fine.”
Nodding her approval, Ana returned to the demons, dismissing them from the training grounds, but not before pulling aside that night’s ten soldiers and relaying their new instructions for the evening.
*****
9:15pm
Pulling on her boots in the ready room, Ana looked up as she heard Alice’s approach. “You’re on time, that’s good.”
Alice looked Ana up and down. Her in her silk shirt and slacks. Alice smiled, “You might want a jacket. Have you a nice leather one?”
“Of course, but it’s warm tonight – I don’t think I’ll need it,” Ana replied, smiling at what she thought was a note of envy in Alice’s voice. Having been brought up the way she was, surrounded by the finer things of life, she naturally assumed that everyone was jealous of her status.
“So, shall we go?” Ana added. Walking to the front of the building, Ana expected to see her usual limousine parked and waiting for her. Instead there was…
“You… you want me to go Slaying on a pink motorcycle?” she asked incredulously.
Alice walked out the front door behind her. There she went up to her bike, took the helmets off the seat and handed one to Ana. “You can have the black helmet then. We don’t want to break any laws or anything.”
Alice hopped on the bike, saying, “This is a 2006 Suzuki Hayabusa 1800. It can out-chase anything out there, be it pink or not.”
Gritting her teeth and reminding herself she had to be friendly, Ana sat astride the machine behind Alice as she jammed the helmet over her thick hair. “It’s certainly… unique.”
The second Ana was settled, Alice took off with a roar, spraying white gravel behind her. She watched the gates opening with glacial slowness as she approached and snaked her way through the gap that was barely wide enough for them. Then she opened the throttle and raced down the street, feeling Ana’s fingers clutching at her belt.
After a momentary disorientation, Ana found herself exhilarating at the sense of speed and power and began to fight the feeling down. But she remembered her mission tonight, and let herself feel the joy – purely in order to better help her fulfil her role, she told herself.
Alice wove in and out of street after street. Ana could tell she had a destination in mind but Alice's patter seemed random. Alice stopped for a light and turned back to Ana. “I can tell by my broken ribs this if your first time… on a bike.”
“My limousine is much more comfortable,” Ana retorted, trying to ignore the thrill of excitement that racing through the streets had elicited. “So how far are we travelling? Just where is this ‘place’ that you know?”
“We’re about there.” Alice pulled off Santa Monica Boulevard onto a long dirt road that ended at a small factory. “This is the place.”
Ana could hear the loud music coming from inside. She looked around at all the cars in the dirt lot and the “people” walking in and around the place. Her eyes narrowed in anticipation. “I see what you mean.”
She counted at least a dozen vampires out here, some just hanging about while others were heading towards the interior. Gazing at the size of the building, she wondered how many more must be inside and began to reach for her cell phone.
“You’re right. This is definitely a ‘place’. But I would estimate there must be several more inside. We’ll need additional personnel.”
“Slow down, hon. This is ‘The Pulse’. A roving rave brought to you by the letter V… as in vampire. It’s a place where ‘new’ age vamps hang. As you can see, they’re not all vamps. Some are wannabees, some are demons, and yes, some are very stupid humans. We can’t just call in a strike team, there will be too many friendlies killed. Besides, you are better than you think you are. You don’t need the Watchers every time you think you’re in over your head. Let’s go in and have a little recon.”
Ana paused, glancing between Alice, her phone, and the doorway leading to ‘The Pulse’. Every instinct was screaming at her to go kill the vampires, to call for her demon soldiers and to charge in. She knew her troops were disciplined enough not to endanger any civilians. She also knew she could take them all on herself, but that wasn’t the most efficient method, and efficiency had been drummed into her from birth.
But she also had to obey Delancre’s wishes, and right now he wished for her to get close to Alice. So she put the phone away and smiled pleasantly. “Very well,” she said, “we shall go look and count how many there are. If we are swift and silent, we may remove this threat before they notice we’re eliminating them.”
Her chin held high, she walked towards the doorway, calling over her shoulder, “Coming?”
Alice unzipped her leather jacket, exposing her short cut t-shirt that revealed most of her midriff. Ana looked at Alice with a hint of curiosity.
“Camouflage,” Alice smiled. “And, ‘If we are swift and silent’? Who talks like that nowadays?”
The two entered the factory. Loud music bounced off the walls and Ana was feeling a little out of place, when on the other hand Alice seemed to dance her way through the crowd, making her way to the bar area.
Alice looked at the bartender. “Two cokes.”
Alice handed one drink to Ana. “What do you think?”
Screwing up her eyes against the noise that pounded through her skull, Ana took the proffered drink and sniffed it suspiciously. She took a tentative sip and made a face, but kept hold of the glass. “It’s loud,” she shouted over the music, “How can you even hear yourself think in here?”
Alice turned her head. “Earplugs, hon.” She handed Ana a set. “These will help with the decibels. I may be down with the music but I’m not stupid.”
Then she turned and punched the bartender out with one quick blow. “I said cokes!” Alice planted a hand on the top of the bar and hopped over. Taking Ana’s drink back she poured her a new one. “Sorry about that, dear. These guys tend to get all ‘let’s get this one drunk and…’ when they see a pretty face.”
Ana looked around quickly, to see if Alice’s rash actions had drawn attention to them, but nobody seemed to pay the slightest notice of the unconscious bartender. Almost in a daze from the wild departure from her usual ordered world, Ana took a sip of her new drink. It was not nearly as vile as her first had been, but it was still Coke. The stuff that common, ordinary, uncouth people would drink.
Holding onto it resolutely, she reminded herself why she was here enduring this, and searched through the crowd to spot which were vampires. When Alice leaped back over the bar to join her she said, “I’ve counted nearly four dozen so far, and there’s a section of the room we can’t see from here.”
Alice pulled her knife out from behind her. With some flashy baton-like twirls she plunged her knife into the back of a nearby vamp. “I hope you’re ready,” she said as the dust fell to the floor.
Dropping her drink to the floor, Ana nodded sharply, “Always.”
Whirling into action, she staked three vampires in quick succession, the dust of the first barely touching the ground before the third collapsed in on itself. None of the other vampires in the room so much as stirred, the music drowning out the small noise the two women made and the press of bodies hiding their actions from view.
“Now this is more my idea of a good night out.”
The two danced their deadly dances as they wove their death throughout the factory. The poor unsuspecting evils in the room who did see the twin angels coming to take their unlives away tried to run but there was no stopping this force of judgment, each utilizing her own unique brand and style. Ana focused on vampires for the most part, easily staking the unknowing creatures. Alice on the other hand was working on the demons in the room and cutting down on the number of innocents by forcefully removing them from the factory.
All too soon Ana found herself short on targets. There, over in the corner. One solitary vampire, lost in his own world as he trailed his teeth along the neck of a girl who clung to him, their bodies moving in a slow rhythm at odds with the harsh beat of the music. Their languorous dance was interrupted abruptly when Ana’s stake found a home in the vampire’s chest. The girl blinked, startled, as her partner dissolved into dust, but Ana had already moved on.
She found Alice, who was busy throwing humans towards the door. “I’m done,” Ana said, “How are you going?”
Alice stopped to wipe the blue glowing blood of some demon from her knife on the dead carcass of its former owner. “It looks clear.” She put her knife away then drew out her phone and began dialling.
Ana's eyes narrowed. "Who are you phoning?" she asked suspiciously.
“Clean up,” Alice smiled and when back to the phone call. “Hello. Macie? Hey, it’s me. That tip was good, thanks… Ya, their rides are here, you can come and get them… Yep…” Alice looked at Ana, “Some minor cuts but we’ll live… Laters.”
As Alice closed her phone she looked toward Ana again, then drew her pistol and fired.
Ana whirled, her stake out in one swift movement. She plunged it into the heart of the vampire that had been sneaking past her but was now lying moaning on the floor, his knee a bloody mess.
“Nice shot,” she complimented Alice as she straightened again, dusting dead vampire from her hands.
Glancing around at the carnage and screaming humans barrelling out of the building, Ana put away her weapons and began to walk calmly to the door. “Time we were leaving, I think.”
As the pair walked to Alice's bike, Alice asked, “How did you like your first rave? Don’t say I never take you anywhere.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 21st April 2007
8:10pm
“Hello?”
“Hello. Would Miss Alessa Hunt be home, please?”
“I’m Alessa Hunt, who is this?” she asked, intrigued by the clearly noticeable English accent in the man’s voice.
“My name is Stuart Montrose. I... I have some information that you may be interested in. It’s a delicate matter, I’m afraid, but I believe you are suffering from a case of amnesia?”
Frowning, Alessa turned down the volume of the TV set and focused on the voice in the other side of the wire and what he had to say. “I may…” she said, “Who is this again?”
“Stuart Montrose. I’m a Watcher, Miss Hunt. I’ve...” the man’s voice caught for a moment, but he steadied himself, “I’ve come across some disturbing happenings, and believe that you may have been a victim.”
*A Watcher,* she said to herself, the word bitter on her tongue, but if the man had information… “I’m interested,” she said, simply.
“Well, it’s not the sort of thing I’d like to discuss over the telephone,” Montrose said. “Perhaps if you allowed me to visit you, I could tell you what I know.”
“I’m on my way out,” lied Alessa. She wasn’t letting a stranger in her house, whatever information he may have. “Maybe we could meet somewhere else?” *Somewhere public,* she thought
There was a pause, then Montrose spoke up again. “All right, how about the lounge at the St Regis? Do you know it at all?”
“I’ll find it,” she answered, and added, “Ok, I’ll see you there in an hour. How will I recognize you?”
“I will be wearing a red carnation in my lapel. I’ll be waiting for you at the bar. St Regis Hotel lounge, one hour. And...” his voice became even more concerned, “I’m sorry if anything I’m going to tell you will distress you, but I think it’s best you know what happened.”
“I’ll be there.” she said, then her tone softened a bit, “Don’t worry about it. Nothing is worse than not knowing.”
“An understandable feeling. One hour then, Miss Hunt. See you then.”
*****
St Regis Hotel Lounge Bar - 9 pm
A string quartet played softly in the corner of the lounge as Stuart Montrose sipped on a martini. A red carnation sat prominently in his left lapel as he scanned the entrance for Alessa Hunt. He saw her come in, a shapely dress highlighting all her good points, and he rose from his seat, nodding to her as she surveyed the room. He straightened his tie and smoothed down his thick, dark hair as she approached, and smiled warmly at her.
“Good evening, Miss Hunt. I’m sorry we couldn’t meet under more pleasant circumstances.”
Alessa looked at the handsome man who greeted her; his smile was disarming and his blue eyes showed concern. She couldn’t help smiling back at him.
“Mr. Montrose,” she said as she allowed the man to pull her chair out for her, then she sat down and smiled her thanks at him. “Circumstances are just that, one can’t avoid them,” she said, as he proceeded to sit down again next to her.
She waited until he was sitting to go on. “You said you had information for me?”
“Yes. Would you like a drink first? They make very fine cocktails here,” he asked, as though reluctant to proceed to more unseemly matters.
“A Piña Colada, please,” she answered, and straightened her shoulders, brushing her hair backwards. She studied the man when he turned to order the drink; he looked somewhat familiar, but she wasn’t intrigued about it. Lots of people had looked familiar since she had lost her memory. She suspected she just projected her wishful thinking, and made herself ‘think’ she recognized them.
With drinks in hand, Stuart sighed and launched into the reason for the meeting. “Well, as I said on the phone, I’ve managed to discover some information that could help fill in your missing memories. It’s... well, it’s not pleasant, I’m afraid.”
Under Alessa’s intent scrutiny, he continued, “You see, it seems that there’s some Watchers who have forgotten their oaths and have begun to indulge in some underhanded activities. You were kidnapped as part of that, I saw your name and picture - though you look a bit different now,” he added, gazing admiringly at her dark blond hair.
“Anyway,” he went on quickly, dropping his eyes back to her face, “I also found that they’d done something to make you forget what happened. Did they..? I mean, do you remember anything from February?”
“Nothing,” she said, and sipped her sweet drink. An image of demons fighting appeared again in her mind. How much of that was true and how much was she imagining she didn’t know, but anyway, she wasn’t to admit it to a stranger. Trying to sound calmer than she was, she added, “I can’t remember anything from that month.”
Stuart made a sympathetic face. “It must be terrible, not having even a hint about what happened. They must have done a good job on your memory, the, the… well, I won’t use that sort of language in front of a lady. I had hoped you might have remembered a little, even if it were just in dreams. It would make what I had to tell you a little easier.”
Alessa looked at him closely, Stuart was leaning over the table, and his face showed concern and… shame? Probably. She couldn’t blame all Watchers about what the organisation had become, could she? Most of them were honourable people, doubtless ashamed of what the Council was doing. Besides, she did have a thing with rogue Watchers. She smiled at the thought, and her eyes became dreamy, then she focused on the man in front of her again. He was most likely risking much coming to talk to her; he deserved something on her part too.
“Well,” she admitted, “sometimes I get these flashes of demons… fighting? Some kind of army.” She sighed, exasperated, “Nothing is clear, though.”
He nodded. “Yes, that’s not surprising. You probably saw a lot of that going on, it’s no wonder you have flashes of it.” With a sigh and one more sip of his drink, he said, “Well I suppose it’s time I stopped beating around the bush. You were kidnapped, Miss Hunt, by a small group of – I hesitate to give them the name, but they are still members – of Watchers who, it seems, have been what I can only term ‘playing’ with demons.”
His face showed his disgust at this accusation, but having started he forged on relentlessly, determined to lay it all on the table for this woman who’d been a victim of such depravity. “They kidnap demons of all sorts and, well, some they put together in teams to fight each other. That’s probably why you remember seeing fights. So far as I know they aren’t an ‘army’ so much as groups that these renegades pit against each other for their own entertainment – much like the Roman gladiatorial ring.”
Stuart’s voice faltered. There was more to tell, more that involved the lovely woman sitting opposite him, but he found it hard to go on.
Alessa just stared at him for a moment. It was unbelievable, and yet, it could be true. Hell, it must be. Why would somebody make up something so horrible? “They make them fight for fun?” she babbled, still not making much sense of her thoughts. Then she blinked. “They made me fight?”
Stuart shifted uncomfortably, his every movement showing his discomfort and embarrassment. “Um, no… Not exactly. I mean, I can’t really say for sure, but what I’ve learned seems to say that when they take female demons - especially attractive ones - they, um… Well.”
He reached out a hand and placed it over Alessa’s in a gesture of comfort for a fleeting moment, then withdrew it again. “Sorry, I… I have no right to do that. But, well…” Once more he squirmed, not wanting to say out loud the words that would shatter this lovely woman’s world.
Alessa listened to him; as he talked, a suspicion grew in her mind and her grip on the cocktail glass made more and more pressure on the crystal till it shattered painfully in her hand. She looked down at the mess without seeing while she heard Stuart’s exclamation without really listening.
“Oh, you’ve hurt yourself! I’m so sorry, this is my fault.” Stuart pulled out a large silk handkerchief from his vest pocket and reached for Alessa’s hand. “Here, let me get the bits of glass out,” he said as he turned her hand over and began to pick at the splinters in her flesh.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he continued as he worked on repairing the damage, “I knew you’d be upset. I wasn’t thinking. I should have moved the glass. I’m so sorry.”
The touch of his hands brought Alessa back to reality, she winced at his ministrations and took a napkin from the table with her other hand, and tried to clean herself.
“Don’t worry, this is nothing. I heal fast. Please…” But the man kept on trying to restrain the blood, although it was already receding. For a second Alessa watched the unnatural reaction of her body; she did heal fast, but usually not ‘that’ fast. Then another flustered exclamation from the Watcher made her look at him, irritated.
“Stop it!” she snapped at him, and she immediately gritted her teeth at her rudeness when she saw the hurt look in his eyes. With a sigh, she wrapped the napkin around her injured hand, ending the matter, and apologized. “Excuse me, Mr. Montros-”
“Stuart,” he interrupted. “Please, call me Stuart.”
“Stuart,” she granted with a smile, “Please excuse me, you just surprised me. This is very distressing, but I need to know…”
Stuart nodded, “Very well, Miss Hunt, I-”
Now it was her turn to interrupt. “Alessa, please.”
Stuart bestowed a smile upon her, “Alessa. I will cease procrastinating. I have come across information within the Council that there is a small group of renegade Watchers. There was a file I found that detailed some of their activities. It seems some of those in the Council know what’s happening but are not moving quickly to stop it. In this file I found evidence that this group of renegades has set up a base somewhere off the coast of Colombia. There they take kidnapped demons and force most of them to fight against each other, as I said earlier, in a sort of gladiatorial contest. Others…”
He adjusted his tie, apparently finding it too restricting. “Others, the attractive female ones, they force to be their, their…” After a moment’s pause he blurted out, flushing, “Their concubines.”
“Concubines,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment, that was exactly what she knew he would say, somehow. She took a deep breath to steady herself and when she opened her eyes again, they shone red.
“Do you have proof of this?” she asked, although in some strange way it all made sense, fitted just right in. The feeling she had got when Nikolai had talked of Daye’s trying to rape him, her refusal to compromise with Ellis, the dread, the amnesia … maybe it wasn’t a spell after all, but herself trying to suppress some terrible memories. It sounded just too fantastic, but added to her memory glimpses and feelings, and this… certainty - it just could be true.
“You talked about a file, could I see it?”
“Not the actual file, no, I’m afraid. It’s in the Watcher archives and I wouldn’t be able to take it away without the proper authorisation. But I was able to make a copy of some of the documents. I… I’m sorry, I’m not used to this sort of James Bond activity,” he said with an embarrassed half-grin, “and I didn’t think to bring them with me. But I could meet you again, and show you, if you wanted to have d…”
He laughed softly and dropped his eyes to the floor, “No, that would be ridiculous. You wouldn’t want to have dinner with someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” Alessa smiled and studied the man. “Why, you make me sound as if I believed all Watchers to be monsters,” she said, trying to sound sincere, since it wasn’t that far from her thoughts. She contemplated the situation. She just needed to see the papers, and dinner wouldn’t be a high price to pay. It wasn’t as if the man was unpleasant or anything like that either. “Where can we see those documents?”
“Well, you must think we’re all monsters, after the way those, those…” Stuart struggled not to swear in front of Alessa, “those disgraces to humanity treated you. It makes my blood boil to think of someone so fair as yourself in the hands of such uncivilised men.” He leaned forward, his face earnest. “I promise I will do all I can to discover the identity of those renegades, and to ensure that justice is served.”
Fighting to calm himself, Stuart gazed into Alessa’s vivid green eyes, entranced by their hue. “Um, yes,” he continued, “So, where to see the documents, you asked. Um, I guess that means no chance of dinner then,” he said with a note of disappointment. “I quite understand. In that case, you’d prefer to meet again somewhere public, I take it?”
Alessa blushed, but she controlled it soon enough, and she smiled, “Well, a restaurant is a public place, is it not?” she asked and lowered her eyes at the obvious pleasure in his face.
Hardly daring to believe his luck, Stuart smiled shyly in return. “Indeed it is,” he nodded, “Indeed it is. Well then, I will make arrangements to take you to a delightful restaurant. And I will bring those foul papers with me so you can see for yourself. Though perhaps it would be best to eat first, else you might lose your appetite.”
He pulled out a small notebook and flicked through its pages. “I’m afraid I won’t be available for a few days, but perhaps I can see you on Tuesday night? The 24th?”
She thought for a moment. Ellis would still be abroad on the 24th and she was pretty much free till he arrived back. She nodded to Stuart. “The 24th will be fine. Where shall I meet you?”
“I’m sure I could make a reservation at Jaan. It’s a wonderful little French restaurant in Beverly Hills. Shall we say, 7 o’clock?” he suggested breathlessly, amazed that somebody as stunning as Alessa Hunt would deign to have dinner with him.
“I think it’s a date then,” she answered, flustered at his stare. She straightened her shoulders and smiled again, starting to rise. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mon- Stuart,” she corrected herself, as he rose to pull out her chair.
“And a real pleasure to meet you, Alessa,” he said, “Although I really am very, very sorry at the terrible circumstances that led to it.”
He smiled in return at her, and watched her walk out of the bar. Already he was eagerly anticipating Tuesday night.
------
Special thanks to Heather for writing Stuart Montrose. :D
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, April 21st 2007
Midnight
The ringing bell took Alessa out of her musings. Startled, she looked at the grandfather clock and noticed it was almost midnight; she had spent more than two hours just sitting there, thinking. Thinking about what? She had no idea.
Stuart’s words still resonated in her ears, and the feelings they had provoked pressed painfully on her heart. Tiredly she rose, thinking it could be Cole returning from wherever he had gone and she steadied herself for some explaining. There was no way she could hide her feelings from him, she was just too distressed.
However, it wasn’t Cole on the other side of the door, but James. The vampire winked at her and offered his famous smirk, then he took in her dress and hair and whistled.
“You weren’t going out, were you, love?”
She smiled at him, he really knew how to make a girl feel better. “No, I wasn’t, James. I’ve just come back home.” She moved out of the way, giving him space to enter. “Come on in, James," she said, no hesitation in her tone.
James grinned as he entered the house but his expression changed quickly. He surveyed the place from within, exploring every feature of the small room before moving further into the house, sniffing at the air as he went. He was almost animalistic in the way he moved from room to room with a mission. Finally James turned to talk to Alessa and spoke coldly.
“I know Cole lives here, the place reeks of him. Tell me where Vincent is. Now.”
Alessa crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him just as coldly. She had been following him around, relieved the teen wasn't home after all, but getting angrier and angrier all the same. James ordering her around in her own home was just too much.
“Don’t make me regret inviting you in, James,” she said, frost in her tone; then her expression softened, realizing what he had just asked. “So you don’t know?” she asked, biting her lip. Well, she couldn’t deny him news of his son’s death, but she could keep Cole’s involvement unknown, anyway.
“Cole’s been living here for about a week now, he came to stay after the building they were living in collapsed. He told me that Vince… well, he didn’t survive the accident, James. I’m sorry.” She stopped for a moment, before adding, her eyes downcast, "I thought you knew."
James’ face dropped like a stone, then almost as quickly the grin spread across his face again.
“Maybe that’s what the little shit told you, but Vince is definitely alive. Darlome can still feel his presence on this world; magic is such a wonderful thing, don’t you agree? Especially when someone knows how to use it properly.”
“The boy is alive? Wow, Cole will be pleased to hear about that.” Relief was clear in her voice. Tthe whole Cole-Vincent affair had been just too ugly, she was glad Cole wouldn't have to bear Vince's death on his shoulders. *It opens new problems, though,,* she thought, remembering what the teen had told her about Vince's behaviour before the accident, but they'd deal with that later.
James moved over to the couch in the living room and sat down, gesturing for Alessa to make her way over. “We have much to talk about. I've been away tending to my friend in New York, so I’ve missed much.”
James paused for a moment to think, “How’s Inés doing these days…?”
*Missing you,* she thought, as she settled beside him, but her cousin would kill her if she told him.
“Inés is fine," she said instead. "She started to dance in another club, much classier this time, fortunately. She’s back in her hotel too, she said I’m well enough to live alone now.”
James frowned. “When I last saw her she seemed scared about something… something in her dreams. I want to help her but she can’t bring herself to tell me. I think she doesn’t trust me enough.”
“Did she tell you anything at all?” Alessa asked. She knew what James was talking about but Inés would most probably skin her and then kill her if she told him about Raúl.
James lowered his head and forced the words out. “She told me she was raped when she was younger by someone in the tribe, and that he fled the tribe before he could be given a fitting end.”
He shifted his weight on the chair and stared into Alessa’s eyes. “I'm just confused by the fact she won’t tell me a name; if she told me a name I could find him in a heart beat.”
Alessa stared at James; if Inés had told him that much the vampire must mean more to her cousin than she had suspected. As far as she knew she hadn't told anybody about her ordeal. She stared deeply into James’ eyes and saw hurt and determination there. James was just the kind of thing Raúl deserved. It was time Inés’ brother found a fitting end, as he had put it. And if Inés had told him that much already…
The demoness’ face hardened in a feral grin, “The name of the rapist is Raúl Montero, Inés’ older brother,” she said through clenched teeth.
*Her brother.* That explained it.
James gave a nod to Alessa, got to his feet and headed towards the door before he turned and spoke. “Thank you, Alessa.”
“You are welcome, James. Just find the bastard.”