*** 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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Kate Helps Darian
Thursday, 3 May 2007 – 2:13pm
Darian’s eyes slowly fluttered open, as he awoke, beaten and weak on the hard floor of his apartment. His clothes were drenched in a cold sweat, and his body still shivered from the experience. The fae inside was a part of him, and having it almost completely ripped out was a horribly draining experience.
Rolling onto his hands and knees the fae tried to stand, but to no avail. His legs were wobbly, and the sudden rush of nausea forced him back to the ground. *Oh God...* he thought, bringing his mouth to his hands to stop the sudden rise of bile that threatened to spew forth. After a few moments the feeling passed, allowing Darian enough composure to drag himself to the phone.
With trembling hands, he picked up the receiver and began to dial.
Kate was quite happy to excuse herself from Galen’s work colleagues as the telephone began to ring. She left the living room and picked up the phone in the kitchen, holding it close to her ear to drown out the noise from the group of men.
“Hello?” she asked with a slight in-drawn breath, leaning back against the refrigerator.
“K… Kate,” Darian’s dry voice said, hardly above a whisper. A coughing fit suddenly interrupted, causing the fae to double over and clench his chest. Thankfully it passed quickly, and Darian could once again speak. “Kate… it’s Darian. I… I,” he winced, a sharp pain shooting through his body. “Cole, he… he came,” he paused again, struggling to remain composed. “I don’t know what he did to me, something magic.”
Kate’s fingers pressed into the handset as her hold tightened. Darian sounded in a bad way and she’d had firsthand experience of what Cole was capable of. “Darian, it’s gonna be all right,” she said gently, though her voice was filled with worry and anxiety. “Just hold on, I’m on my way over, okay?”
At Darian’s croaked reply, Kate hung up and ran into the living room, grabbing her jacket from the back of a chair.
“Kate?” asked Galen in alarm, immediately noticing the apprehensive expression on her face. He rose from his chair and moved over to her. “What is it? Has something happened?”
Kate glanced at the other three men who had also turned their attention to her, though that suddenly changed when there came a uproarious cheer from the television set.
“Oh man! What was that? Who was up?” commented Greg, pointing his beer bottle towards the screen.
Kate held Galen’s hand tightly, “It’s Darian, I think he’s hurt. I’ll tell you about it later, okay?” She kissed him lightly on the cheek as she scooped up her car keys.
“You take care,” he said as he followed her to the door. “Call me if you need help.”
Kate smiled at Galen’s obvious concern. Now that they were alone in the hall she let her hand gently caress his cheek and she leaned in to kiss him more attentively. “Okay… now I have to go.”
****
The door opened slowly with a soft call of ‘Darian’ announcing Kate’s arrival. Although she had made it over in record time, to the fae it seemed like he had been waiting hours. The pain had returned, and it was all he could do just to remain conscious while he had been waiting.
The witch’s eyes widened as her gaze finally fell onto Darian’s pitiful form, huddled on the floor with his back to the wall on the far side of the room. His hair was soaked with sweat, clinging in strands to his equally wet forehead. His shirtless body was also moist, but despite the appearance of being hot, he shivered uncontrollably beneath a small quilt he had managed to wrap around himself.
Worst of all, however, were his eyes. They seemed sunken and defeated, the normal purple colour now a pale grayish brown.
Kate rushed over to Darian’s side, crouching low as she pulled the blanket around his trembling body more firmly. “Oh my god…” she whispered quietly, brushing back his soaking wet hair from his forehead. Cole had done this? She couldn’t believe it; as much as Cole had changed, his behaviour erratic and his motives questionable, she hadn’t believed him capable of such a malicious attack, especially not on Darian, not even after his attempted assault on Marcus two nights ago.
*This is my fault,* she thought drearily, as though she needed to bear any more guilt. *If only I’d taken care of Cole, like Marcus said I should… He’s gone too far; when will all this end?*
“Darian?” she called softly, “What happened? What did Cole do to you?”
“I don’t know how, but he, he stole my magic,” Darian replied. “He had something, glowing red runes that burnt across his chest, they acted like some sort of conduit.”
Darian’s expression grew worried as he noticed Kate’s expression. “It’s not his fault Kate, he’s not himself.”
“I know,” said Kate gently, still stroking Darian’s soaked forehead. “I know he’s not, don’t worry yourself.” She helped pull Darian to his feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to steady him some. His legs were wobbly and it took them a little while to catch momentum as Kate led him over to the couch so that he could be more comfortable.
She tried to make him as relaxed as possible as she lay Darian down carefully, fluffing up the pillows behind his head and fetching his quilt and wrapping him up snugly again.
“You remember the last White Hat meeting?” Kate laughed dryly at Darian’s slow nod, “Of course, who could forget, right? Well things have progressed since then. That unnatural feeling you mentioned? We think it’s some kind of virus. It only effects people with magical abilities but it makes them act out of character, selfish and self-serving. I don’t know for sure but I think that Cole has it too. You’re right, he’s not himself, and he’s been practicing black magic again… I think that might have affected him too…”
Darian remained motionless, trying to absorb everything Kate told him. *A virus?* It made sense, and could explain not only Cole’s behaviour but Tash’s strangeness as well.
“If our friends are sick, we have to help them, Kate,” the fae said, his voice filling with as much determination as his weakened state would allow. “If it’s not only Cole, things around here could get real bad real fast.”
“I know,” said Kate again, smoothing back Darian’s hair some in an attempt to placate him. “We will help them, we’re already looking for a cure. It’s just a matter of time…” Kate looked at her friend with concern, he was so weak and fragile, there was no way he was ready for any kind of battle just yet. “But right now you need to rest, and I can help with your healing,” she said firmly. “That, at least, we have time for.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 3rd May 2007 – 10am
Tash waited silently outside the polished wooden doors of Ambrose Delancre’s study. His baritone voice rumbled through the panels and she lifted her chin as she opened the door and strode inside.
“Delancre,” she said, with a nod that he noticed was almost respectful.
“Natasha, do come in. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Tash smiled as she arranged herself on a chair that faced the man’s mahogany desk. She’d been carefully schooling her thoughts for some hours now, and was confident she was projecting the right air. *They’re for the benefit of his army, nothing more.*
“I didn’t want to approach you with this before determining if it was possible. I’d hate to have raised your hopes only to fail to follow through,” she began.
His curiosity aroused, Delancre leaned forward and rested his chin on one hand. “Do go on.”
“I know you’ve had to supplement your force here with replacements from Colombia, and even with some of the more advanced new recruits, and though we’ve been making good progress on the vampire population there’s still a fair degree of attrition.”
Delancre nodded, impatient for Tash to get to her point.
“I have been successful in bringing back some of your fallen troops.”
Delancre frowned, not certain he liked this turn of events. “Brought them back how? You have no magic, you couldn’t resurrect them. Tell me everything,” he demanded.
“Of course,” Tash replied with a reassuring smile. “I used a vodoun rite to raise them as zombies. They are now undead demon soldiers, animated purely by the power of the ritual. And best of all,” she added to Delancre’s ever-deepening scowl, “they will answer only to you.”
The frown eased to a look of puzzlement. “Interesting,” he pondered, “but if I’m not mistaken, whoever raises a zombie has the creature under her control. How did you effect such a transfer, if indeed you did?”
Delancre didn’t like the smell of this, not one bit. Undead soldiers were all well and good, but he didn’t want to relinquish control of his army to this… this woman. On the other hand, if she really had found a way to confer control of the zombies to him… Yes, an army of such creatures would certainly help when the time came to use his soldiers to secure his position.
“Let me show you,” Tash said in reply, and stood. “I can bring them here, if you like, or you can come see them. I currently have them in storage, as it were.”
Delancre’s eyes narrowed. “How many are we talking about?”
“Oh, seventeen at the moment, from the first raising. Once you’ve seen them, I should be able to do more – depending on the supply of corpses, that is,” she said with a feral smile.
There was a long pause, during which Delancre regarded Tash steadily. She was unable to read anything from him; it was as though he’d become a perfect blank, and she desperately hung onto her surface thoughts. *They’ll help with Delancre’s fight. They’ll be totally under his control. They’ll obey only Delancre.*
The air in the room grew still, almost stuffy. The only sounds were the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, and the slight rustle of trees in the breeze outside. The steady cadence of shouted orders carried dimly through the window from outside as Ana ran yet another batch of recruits through their drills. Finally Delancre broke the heavy silence.
“Bring one. If I like it, I’ll see the others.”
*****
“Walk,” Tash ordered.
The zombie remained standing in the centre of the small courtyard, staring blankly ahead, paying Tash absolutely no heed whatsoever. Then Delancre walked into its field of view and those dead eyes came to life, following his moves around the square.
“Walk.”
In response to Delancre’s command, the zombie began to move forward until Ambrose barked, “Stop!”
Coming to a dead halt, the zombie returned to its immobile state, with only its eyes tracking Delancre’s movements as he paced back and forth.
“Well, that’s very interesting. But I can’t very well go out with to them to fight, can I?” said Delancre impatiently, prepared to dismiss the whole affair as an intriguing side-note and leave it at that. The demonstration helped a little, but he still harboured doubts about the true extent of his ‘control’.
Tash chuckled. “No, you don’t have to. You can tell it to go with Ana and obey her orders until it returns here to you. And those orders can be simple, like ‘walk’, or complex, like ‘fight that vampire there, then move onto the next vampire’. It’ll keep dusting vampires until it runs out of viable targets or it’s told to stop.”
She moved up next to the zombie and laid a maternal hand on its shoulder. “They aren’t mindless. They can operate at almost the same mental capacity as they did when alive; they’ve just got no free will. And they’re difficult to destroy.”
Delancre’s scrutiny was intense, but Tash bore it without flinching, assured of her ability to withstand his mental onslaught – this time, at least. Her preparations had been long and specific, however, and she knew she needed to arrange something more permanent if she were to pull this off on a long-term basis.
“All right,” he said finally, nodding slowly, “Zombie, obey Natasha’s orders as you would my own.”
Outwardly, the undead demon showed no sign of having heard the order, but when Tash then said, “Walk,” it began to move forward purposefully.
Tash nodded to Delancre, who said, “Stop.”
Dutifully, the demon stopped, and Tash said, “You see, even when you pass over control to someone else you still have an override.” She smiled and addressed the zombie, “Kill Ambrose Delancre.”
Delancre snapped to attention, his eyes blazing fire, but Tash quickly said to him, “Trust me.”
The two watched the zombie, Tash with a growing degree of smugness and Delancre with worry that soon turned to grudging admiration as the creature turned not to Delancre, but to Tash herself and began to advance on her with deadly intent.
Dancing backwards and fending off the zombie’s first blows, Tash said, “Giving it the order to attack you has removed all the control you gave me – you will have to stop it from killing me.” She narrowly avoided a spike that shot from the demon’s forearm and dive-rolled behind the creature, panting.
“I’d appreciate it if it were sooner rather than later, Delancre.”
A booming laugh rumbled from deep within Ambrose’s chest. Between breaths he said, “Stop attacking!” and let the laughter subside to chuckles as the zombie halted in mid-swing and returned to its resting stance.
“A very effective demonstration, Natasha,” he said, nodding amiably. “Very well, let the rest come here. But,” he wagged a finger at her, “I want to be assured that this ‘control’ you’ve given to me as part of your raising ritual is all you say it is. I will have my mages investigate every aspect of this.”
Tash inclined her head, “Of course, my Lord.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday, 4th May 2007 – 2:10pm
Apt. 202, 1318 Poplar Avenue
“Shit,” Tash cursed softly as she stared at the papers before her.
She sat at her desk in the office at Poplar Avenue, sunlight streaming through the window to illuminate the assorted documents littering the surface. She’d surveyed the problem before her from every angle she could possibly conceive, and it all led to the same conclusion: she needed to enlist Kate’s help.
“Shit.”
Tash went through it all once more, just to be sure. Ok, from Kate’s behaviour she was fairly certain the woman had Hyde. First mark against her. But then again, so did Daye, Tash’s only real alternative. The second thing against Kate as a viable choice was the manner in which they’d last parted company. But Tash held the letter that would help her to make amends for that. Of course, how that letter and its implications were received by Kate was all dependent on how badly the virus had affected her system.
Then there were the pros. She counted them off on her fingers as she went.
One: Kate had a stronger natural talent than Daye, and what Tash required could take a lot of juice.
Two: Kate wasn’t involved with the Watchers’ Council – Delancre could well recognise the stamp of Daye’s magic, certainly more easily than he would Kate’s.
Three: Delancre had obviously recognised the dark taint of Daye’s magic when she used it in his office. Tash couldn’t be sure, but if Kate hadn’t gone down that same dark path then it would also be less detectable. She hoped.
Four: …
Tash stared at her fourth finger for a minute. There was no four. Sighing heavily, she realised her conclusion was based on an awful lot of ifs and maybes.
“Fuck it.”
Tash rose, grabbing up the letter. She’d try Kate first. If Kate threw her out, then she’d try Daye. But she didn’t want too many people involved. If word got back to Delancre about what she was doing, she’d be toast.
*****
2:40pm – Kate Eldridge’s house
Tash’s knock was firm, but though she kept her jaw square her stomach was churning like a washing machine on spin cycle. Kate’s car was the only one in the driveway, at least, so with luck Tash would find the woman at home alone. She heard footsteps approach the door and swallowed, reminding herself to keep a lid on her temper if Kate said anything inflammatory.
Kate wiped a line of sweat from her forehead as she ran to the front door. She’d been working out pretty heavily all morning, not just physically, though that was her major weakness and needed more practice than anything else, but magically too. Everything that they were learning about Delancre and this virus made the need to be running at peak performance a paramount concern. Besides, she was still trying to figure out what to do about Cole and a bit of controlled aggression helped her to think more clearly even if she wasn’t any closer to a solution.
As her hand rested on the handle she caught a thread of anxiety mixed with unease from the person on the other side. She cast a quick glance through the spy hole to see Tash looking like she was about to either punch something or throw up beneath her mask of apathy.
“Hmmm, this should be interesting,” she said quietly under her breath before opening the door fully. “Tash… what a surprise.”
Offering what she hoped looked like a sincerely apologetic smile, Tash replied softly, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a surprise for me, too. Um… Look, I know you’re probably still pissed off with me and all, but I… well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened and…” She glanced down and shuffled her feet, “Well, I thought we ought to talk a bit, is all.”
Kate studied Tash for a long moment, before pushing the door open and standing aside to let her past. “Sure. Come in.”
Once inside, Kate led the way to the kitchen, she was all hot and sticky and she desperately needed something cool to drink. “We’ve been friends for too long to let a few harsh words come between us, Tash,” she said as she walked, turning to face Tash as she entered the kitchen.
Kate folded her arms as she studied the other woman: just what kind of idiot did she take her for? She was a telepath for fuck’s sake, Tash of all people should know what that meant. And yet here she stood with that fake sincere look on her face and expected her to buy it?
“Want a drink?” she said after another moment, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of Evian. “I’ve been training all morning, I don’t know how you do it, day in, day out, I’m beat.”
Watching Kate scrutinise her, Tash knew the apology line wasn’t going to get her far. Kate’s disbelief was almost palpable, bordering on contempt. Sighing, Tash said, “Nothing to drink thanks, I’m fine. And you get used to the training.”
She leant her elbows on the kitchen counter and faced Kate, dropping all pretence. “Ok, let’s not beat around the bush then. Yeah, I’m still kinda ticked off at what you said last March. And I don’t blame you if you’re still angry about what I called you. I am sorry we’ve been alienated over it, though.”
Tash knew she’d have to tell Kate some of what she’d been doing in Delancre’s camp, but she was damned if she’d start talking about it until she had an idea where Kate lay on the whole issue. So she started with the easy stuff.
She pulled out a folded and somewhat crumpled letter and placed it on the surface of the bench. Pressing her finger upon it, she said, “This’ll sound like it’s coming from left field, but when Emma was sick in the hospital did you try to use magic to heal her?”
Kate swallowed hard at the mention of Emma’s name and placed the water bottle down on the counter with forced calmness. She drew her gaze down contemplatively, “I did, and it didn’t work. She still died.” Kate was in turmoil inside but she fought it back and shielded it as best she could from Tash. She wasn’t about to start down that path again – Emma was dead and she would just have to get used to that fact from now on.
Kate’s pain and loss filled the divide between them, but it didn’t touch Tash in the way that it used to. Where once she would have felt an answering sorrow of her own, now she merely let Kate’s grief wash over her. Noted, but not experienced. Striving to get to her point, she pressed on.
“Yes, it didn’t work. And I bet you blame yourself for that – here you are with all this power and it was useless to keep your own daughter alive. I’m sorry, I know this is painful to talk about, but I could feel something from you sometimes, back then when I was keeping you company. I could feel you wondering how you’d failed.”
Kate restrained her annoyance at Tash’s offhand tone, only if she’d tried could Tash have worked home the sting of Kate’s failure and the absolute inadequacy of her abilities as a witch. It was almost like Tash was trying to provoke her to retaliate.
“Of course I blame myself, Tash,” said Kate quietly, raising her eyes to meet the other woman’s sparkling gaze. “I’m supposed to be able to help people, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do and the one time it mattered the most I failed. I guess I’m just not as good as I thought I was.”
Tash shook her head determinedly, glad that her suppositions about Kate’s attempts and subsequent feelings were right. “No, no, not at all. That’s the point I’m trying to make. I know you felt you’d failed, that your magic was useless, but you didn’t fail. It was out of your hands, Kate. There was no way you could have helped Emma with magic in that hospital.”
She shoved the folded letter across the counter to Kate. “Read that, and you’ll see what I mean. I’d really forgotten about them – it was just one more cheque that went out regularly each month from the Foundation. But when I read that the other day it finally dawned on me… Here, I’ll stop babbling and you can read it for yourself.”
Kate frowned but she took the crumpled piece of paper and smoothed it out enough so she could read it. Her eyes scanned over the body of the letter before she suddenly glanced up at Tash. They shared a moment of comprehension before Kate returned her attention back to read the rest of the letter.
“I… I can’t beli…” she began weakly, quickly pulling out a chair and sitting down, leaning on the kitchen table as a thousand ‘what ifs’ flooded her mind. She silently closed her eyes, this couldn’t be true, it couldn’t! Celia and Cassy Dawson, the twins they had saved two years ago from that house in Pasadena, the same twins that created an anti-magical field when they were in close proximity… they had been in the same hospital as her Emma, that’s why… that’s why…
“Oh god…” mumbled Kate stiffly, her voice barely audible. She held the worn piece of paper tightly in her hands as though she was afraid it might not be real. She pushed back a wave of hair that had come loose from her ponytail, her hand resting on her forehead as she leaned against it for support. “I can’t believe it,” she said finally with an exhausted sigh, “this is like some kind of cruel joke…”
Dredging up her old habits, Tash rested a hand lightly on Kate’s shoulder, offering support and comfort. “I know,” she said, “It’s awful. If only we’d realised… I wish we could change the past, but we can’t. But at least it must answer some questions for you.”
Tash closed her eyes for a moment before continuing, “And I’m sorry we aren’t on better terms. It would have been easier for you, I’m sure, if this had come from a friend.”
Kate closed her eyes, feeling a torrent of emotions swirling around inside. She thought she’d laid most of them to rest but she was well accustomed to dealing with grief and she knew it didn’t work like that. Just when you thought you’d scaled the worst of it, when the dust appeared to settle, it hit you again as fresh and as painful as that very first day and it would be that way for the rest of her life.
A restless sigh escaped her lips at Tash’s words of sympathy, if they could be called as such. She’d had her suspicions for a while now, ever since she had found traces of that virus in Nikolai and then again in Cole. She’d hoped that Tash’s recent uncharacteristic behaviour could be written off as ‘just a bad day’ but with her growing alienation from the rest of their friends… things were never so clear cut, not for them.
She looked up at Tash, her eyes searching those of her friend; if only she could make a connection with her the way she had with Koyla, but from her unperturbed manner it was obvious that Tash wasn’t even aware that she might be infected. Kate placed her hand over the one that Tash held on her shoulder.
“I had hoped that we were still friends,” she said gently, masking her doubts about her friend behind an impervious barrier. Turning her attention back to the letter, Kate suddenly frowned, noticing the date at the top. “How long have you known about this, Tash?” she asked curiously, her question edged with a small amount of suspicion despite her effort to keep her voice casual.
Tash fought down her rancour at Kate’s tone and sighed heavily, as though burdened by conscience. She kept her tone open, allowing only thoughts of compassion and friendliness to filter through. *And remember,* she told herself, *Kate likely has Hyde – no wonder she’s suspicious of everyone these days.*
“Only a couple of weeks ago – you can see from the date when it was posted. Hell, it sat on my desk for several days before I even read it! Then what?” Tash asked reasonably, “Was I supposed to rush here expecting you to welcome me with open arms? Already you’re looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head. But I couldn’t just keep this information to myself. You deserved to know. I felt I owed you that much, at least.”
Hope crept into her voice. “If you’ve stopped giving me the third degree, yes I’d hoped that we were still friends, too. But,” and doubt returned, “if you feel you can’t trust me…”
Kate couldn’t help but feel surprised at Tash’s reaction to what, she felt, had been a quite reasonable question. That kind of behaviour just wasn’t like the Tash that she had known for over two years and only served to confirm what Kate already suspected. *Not Tash too…* she thought wretchedly, *not like Daye and Cole and Nikolai…*
Kate shook her head in dismay, “I didn’t mean that the way it came out,” she said remorsefully, “I’m sorry. You’re one of my closest friends, Tash, I never meant to push you away.” She looked away in regret. “Reah completely hates my guts. I guess I can’t blame her for feeling that way after what happened, and Daye…” Kate didn’t even want to think about the last time she had seen Daye, the things that had been said.
She returned her gaze to Tash again; if her suspicions were right then she was ill, and she needed help. But it was obvious Tash wouldn’t be persuaded of either of those facts. She could try and force it upon her but without a cure what difference would it make? Besides, Tash was in pretty thick with Ambrose and the rest of his clan in Los Angeles, probably in over her head if half the rumours were true about that island off the coast of Colombia.
“I never wanted to lose your friendship either, Natasha,” Kate said finally.
Tash turned back, a wistful smile on her lips. “I’m glad, Kate. I value your friendship too much to lose yours, either.” She paused in thought, pursing her lips. It was apparent that Kate wasn’t going to volunteer any information, so Tash reluctantly decided it was time to offer another tidbit and see if the fish were biting.
“I’m sorry about the others. They’re all acting strangely lately: Daye, Nikolai, Alessa...” Tash glanced conspiratorially over her shoulder, then leaned in towards Kate, “Look, I don’t really trust any of them, I think someone’s got at them somehow…” She paused, waiting to gauge Kate’s reaction before she went further. If Delancre had managed to recruit some of his Hyde victims to spy on her for him, Kate could well be one of them.
“Got to them… how?” asked Kate, perfectly mirroring Tash’s conspiratorial posture.
Mutely, Tash shook her head. Damn, Kate hadn’t given her any hint one way or the other. Was it possible Kate had absolutely no clue what was going on? It could be – she had only recently lost Emma, after all, and may not have been paying attention. Well, either way, if Kate was playing dumb or really had no inkling about Delancre at all, then Tash could work with that. Thinking about it, maybe it would be better if she didn’t mention Delancre’s name after all.
“Well, you must have seen it,” she said. “You said yourself, just now… Reah hates you, and Daye… Well, I’ve seen Daye and she’s definitely not herself. I… well, I don’t want to end up the same way. Maybe there’s some sort of magic shield against mental tampering? But,” she eyed Kate apprehensively, “I just don’t know who to trust these days.”
“Tell me about it,” laughed Kate hollowly, “I’m beginning to think I should automatically read everyone’s minds before even saying hello, just to be on the safe side. But you’re right… some people have been acting very strange lately, well not even lately, it’s been going on for months from the sound of things… Daye especially.”
Kate toyed with the idea of telling Tash about Nikolai, but decided against it; he’d been adamant that he didn’t want Tash to know just yet, especially with her close relationship to Delancre. It wouldn’t do them any favours if she went blabbing about some virus that had practically crippled the only resistance in the city.
“So, what do you suggest we do? I mean, assuming you still trust me.”
Tash cursed mentally. She sensed Kate really did know something, but was keeping quiet about it. Now, maybe Kate had heard about Delancre and didn’t want to say anything because she thought Tash was his best buddy these days. And maybe she was working for him to keep an eye on her. Hell, maybe by some miracle Kate had learned that a virus existed, and that’s what she was hiding – but then, if Kate knew of the virus why would she refuse to mention it unless she was working for Delancre?
Sighing heavily, Tash stood up straight. She just couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk asking Kate to shield her thoughts from Delancre, even under the guise of wishing to be immune to Hyde, in case she was his puppet.
“Actually, Kate. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can trust you. I… I don’t know who’s been influenced and who hasn’t. I would like some sort of shield, as I said, but I just can’t be sure you won’t do something else to me instead. I’m so sorry.”
Tash turned again, determined to leave this time. She desperately needed something to block her thoughts and plans from Delancre, but she daren’t risk tipping her hand to him in seeking out assistance. She doubted there was much Kate could say to make her stay now.
“Don’t you mean infected, Tash?” said Kate to the woman’s back before she had even reached the door. “I’ve felt it in people, this… dark kind of evil. Cole has it for certain and Daye too, I could tell she was different a long time ago, but I guess I didn’t realise just how much until I found out about her and Galen.”
Kate rose from her chair as Tash turned around slowly. “She seduced him… and then took great delight in telling me about it. Doesn’t really sound like the Amanda we know and love, right?”
A hesitant sigh left Kate’s lips. “So I should hate her, shouldn’t I? She took away the only man I’ve ever really loved, for just one torrid night of sex and she didn’t even care that she’d done it. But if she has this virus, does that absolve her of any culpability?” Kate shrugged, “Maybe it’s just poetic justice, you reap what you sow and all that. I probably deserved it after what I did to Galen. But then I’m just a whore so my feelings don’t really matter.”
Before Tash could say anything Kate cut in one last time. “I don’t know how many of the others have this virus too, but it seems to attach itself to this substance, mana… That’s all I really know about it at the moment, but I’m still looking for a cure. So you can go now if you want, or you can stay and maybe we can do something about it before anyone else gets hurt.”
Tash let her surprise that Kate knew this much already show in her voice, knowing the feeling would match her words, if not the real cause of that astonishment. “It’s a virus? A virus made Daye do all that? And Cole beating up that man? And…” The words ‘just a whore’ echoed in Tash’s brain and she broke off to say, “Oh, Kate. You know I don’t really think of you that way. I’m sorry I ever said that.”
As though taking in all that Kate had just told her, Tash spent a moment collecting her thoughts. She schooled herself to show disappointment should that become necessary, and asked, “Do you know where this virus came from, or how to go about curing it?”
Kate observed Tash carefully as she spoke, she could almost see the triumphant gleam in the woman’s eyes that she had given up trying to stonewall her. “I told you what I know,” she said sadly, walking back over to the counter and retrieving her discarded bottle of water, taking a long, slow drink.
She felt so disappointed in Tash; she obviously thought she was the same naïve, trusting Kate as before. But the last few months had changed her so much, sometimes she didn’t even recognise the woman she had become. Of course no one had noticed, most couldn’t even be bothered to look.
“I tried finding the originator, but it didn’t work,” she stated plainly.
“Hmm, a shame,” Tash said sadly, letting the crafted disappointment out. “So I guess there’s no protection against a virus, then. But… well, there is something else. You say you want me to help out. I know nothing about viruses or mana or anything like that, but I’ve been spending a lot of time at the Watchers’ Council house. In fact, Delancre’s already had people looking into what’s been making Daye behave so oddly. If I tell them what you’ve learned, I’m sure it’ll help.”
There, Tash thought, let’s see if mention of the man himself does elicit some sort of response. Keeping her expression neutral, she concentrated on Kate’s answer. If she spoke against Delancre, Tash wanted to be positive it was genuine.
Kate fought down the urge to just walk up to Tash and shake some sense into her. She hated all this cloak and dagger shit, especially in Tash since it was so obvious that she was concealing her true feelings. Such tactics might work on a complete stranger but Kate had come to know Tash well enough during the past two years that she could tell when she was trying to obstruct her.
At the mention of Delancre’s name, though, Kate’s face fell, displaying her absolute disdain. “I’m sure the First Elder will be delighted to hear whatever you have to tell him,” she said with a slightly mocking tone. “Maybe he might actually do something about it, too.”
Tash smiled properly for the first time since she’d arrived at Kate’s house. There was no way anyone could fake that degree of disgust. She dropped all her layers of obfuscation and breathed a deep sigh of relief. She hated all this subterfuge and double-talk. It irritated her no end, and was glad to be able to just lay her cards on the table.
“Good, you can’t stand the man. Sorry for all the beating around the bush, but I thought you might be working for him. I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I can’t tell who to trust any more.”
Settling herself in a chair, Tash made herself comfortable and launched into her real reasons for being there. “Kate, I’ve been working for the past two months to find out what Delancre is up to here, and I’m close to finding out his real plans. He really does have a demon army, and he uses brainwashing techniques to turn them into loyal soldiers. The thing is, while he doesn’t exactly distrust me, neither does he trust me particularly either. He keeps an eye on me. I can block him out to a certain extent, but I need help to keep him from working out what I’m doing. He needs to believe that what I tell him is the truth.”
Kate relaxed at the level of sincerity in Tash’s voice, sounding almost like her ‘normal’ self. *Shame you couldn’t have been that genuine when you were talking about my dead child, or broken marriage,* she thought critically, but hid those feelings away tightly.
She was aware that her open disgust for Ambrose Delancre had won her Tash’s favour and to some degree her trust – for now at any rate. But she didn’t want to jeopardise that, not when Tash had just told her more about the Watchers’ set up in LA in five minutes than Nikolai and Alessa had been able to find out in the past few days. It was obvious that if she wanted to find out more then she would have to play along with what Tash wanted, and play the game well too.
Still, she couldn’t help but feel amused that both parties had asked her to perform exactly the same feat – provide them with a means by which they could effectively impair or block Ambrose Delancre from realising their true intent.
Kate joined Tash and sat down again, laying her hands flat on the hard surface of the table while she thought. “There are certain spells of obfuscation that can cloud a person’s mind, but I’d need something of Delancre’s to bind the spell to him and it still might not be sophisticated enough for your needs. Just how extensive are his abilities?”
Tash shook her head at the question, “Personally, I’m not really sure. He has a lot of magical protection of various types at the house, though. And I know he can put layers of deception on his own thoughts and feelings that are virtually unbreakable. Early on, I never so much as suspected I wasn’t reading him truly. So far I’ve been able to shade the truth to him without arousing more than a natural paranoid’s level of suspicion.”
She twisted her hands together nervously and went on, “But I’ve developed a method to subvert the loyalties of a section of his demon army. He’ll not detect anything from them, but he may pick it up from me. He’s already more suspicious than he was, and he’s got others working on ‘loyalty checks’ of the troops I’ve taken over. They should come up clean, but if he tries to force the issue with me, I’m not certain I’m strong enough to keep him out.”
Her eyes grew pleading as she thought of what Delancre would do to her if he discovered her ploy. “Please, Kate. I’ve seen what happens to those he punishes for disloyalty. He knows I’m not fully his, but I’d hate to rate my chances if he learned I was actively working against him. And unless we can stop his army, he’ll take over.”
Kate could hardly believe what she was hearing. The last time she had talked with Tash she had been full of nothing but praise for the First Elder and the work he was doing in LA. In fact she’d been so blindly convinced of his altruistic motives that Kate wouldn’t have been surprised if Tash had gotten out a set of pom-poms and done a cheer in honour of her new bosom buddy.
Now it seemed she had finally realised what everyone else had only suspected, that Ambrose Delancre was a dangerous man that sought only to increase his personal standing. *Well it’s a good job I’m not Nikolai, or I’d have a whole bag of ‘I told you so’s’ with your name on them,* thought Kate with an inward sigh. This really was a mess; if only the White Hats were still together then they might have been able to work out what was going on sooner.
“It’s okay Tash,” said Kate with a reassuring smile as she reached out and rubbed her shoulder in support. “I said I’d help you and I will. But you don’t have to be alone in this. If Ambrose is trying to take over the city then maybe we should try and contact some of the others, we’re not the only ones who harbour a dislike of this man. Alessa, Nikolai, even if they have this virus that doesn’t change their feelings towards Delancre, and they might be able to help. Really, if he is as dangerous as he sounds you’re not safe taking him on by yourself, whether you can get his followers to turn on him or not.”
Tash shook her head emphatically. “No, Kate. That’s just it. Don’t you understand yet, even after everything I just told you? Why do you think I didn’t say anything about investigating him at that White Hat meeting? I didn’t know who I could trust, didn’t know who might be in Delancre’s pocket. Don’t you dare even tell people that I’m suspicious of that man. And you’d better try to forget all this once I’m gone. Everyone has to believe I’m his lapdog – word has a way of spreading, and sooner or later it will get back to him. If you want to murder me do it to my face, Kate. Don’t go destroying the cover I’ve built up.”
“For God’s sake, Tash!” cried Kate in annoyance. “If your intentions really have been to investigate Delancre from the start then telling someone might have avoided a lot of trouble. You do realise that it was your unrelenting defence of this man that triggered the dissolution of the White Hats in the first place?! I mean, I can understand your need for caution but if you can’t trust your friends, the people who have stood by your side in the past…” Kate sighed wearily, “Obfuscation is one thing, but you’ve just been an open bitch.”
A long sigh escaped through Tash’s nose, and she explained wearily, “Kate, what do you think would have happened if I had let openly suspicious people remain with me as I joined up with Delancre? He’s told me a lot, shown me some of his operations, which allowed me to do some snooping on the side. He would never have trusted me that much if he knew I was associating with people who were actively investigating him.”
She shook her head, “And there was Nikolai, supposedly this great spy and assassin, sitting there undermining my cover before it’s even fully established. He was talking about rumours and that he’s investigating the Council, and if I’d for one second looked like I agreed with him I wouldn’t have got so much as a foot in the door with Delancre. I know…” she rubbed the bridge of her nose, “I know I got angry, and said things I shouldn’t, and I never wanted the White Hats to break up over it. I just wanted to distance myself from those who were too blatant about their suspicions. I’ve introduced a handful of Whi… ex White Hats to Delancre, but only those who’ve not said anything outright about him. But I’ve not told even them about what I’m really doing.”
Tash lifted her eyes to Kate’s once more. “Now I’m in a position where if I don’t ask for help I could wind up dead – or worse. And you were my best choice, Kate. Please, don’t ask me to explain all this to anyone else, please don’t talk to anyone about even seeing me. Let them think I’ve turned my back on all of them. When the time is right I can explain it all, but there are still too many pieces to be put in place first.”
“Fine, we’ll do this your way,” agreed Kate with a sigh, “but I want it on the record that I was against all this from the start. Stopping Delancre and whatever his plans are is important, but not as much as your life.” Before Tash could start protesting again, Kate held her hand up to silence her. “However, you’re in too deep now… and I realise the need to exercise discretion. I won’t tell anyone Tash, you can rely on that, and I promised to help you… and I will.”
Kate rose from her chair and walked over to the pantry nook where her spell components were stored. She returned a moment later with a heavy, ancient looking, leather bound tome which she heaved onto the table with a THUD.
“If Delancre is really that distrustful of you then the spell should be something that allows him to still sense surface thoughts, otherwise he really WILL suspect something is amiss.” Kate turned over the thick cover, unleashing a musty sweet scent of herbs and burnt incense.
“Reperio,” she whispered quietly as she held her hand over the book, and suddenly the pages flipped over in quick succession until they opened out to the relevant page. Kate looked over the spell quickly before turning back to Tash who had been waiting patiently. “This should work quite well, but I would still need something of Delancre’s to bind the spell to him more securely.”
“Yes, he needs to sense something. I need something similar to what he used on me, where the surface thoughts and feelings are what I want them to be – real enough that he thinks they’re genuine.” Tash grew quiet in thought for a moment as she pondered Kate’s requirements, wondering what she might possibly have on her that was Delancre’s.
“Oh, of course!” she exclaimed. Rummaging through her pants Tash pulled out her wallet and opened it carefully. “There should be some left,” she muttered to herself as she delicately peeled apart the flaps of leather.
Smiling, she drew out a bit of folded tissue paper and laid it on the table, opening it out flat. Four short, dark hairs – remnants from what she’d collected for Marcus’ needs – nestled in the creases and Tash pushed the paper and its cargo towards Kate. “Will hairs from his head do?”
Kate raised a speculative eyebrow as she picked up the piece of paper that contained the small hairs of First Elder Ambrose Delancre. “Perfect,” she said with a slight smile, “I suppose I don’t want to know how you got close enough to get this, do I?”
Tash laughed, “Nothing unsavoury, I assure you. He spends a lot of time in his study, and although the servants clean daily I was able to get some time in there alone before they’d been through.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Kate with another small laugh as she returned to the pantry to gather the components for the spell. The sound of jars clinking together filled the silence before Kate re-emerged and set everything down by the spell book.
Kate was quiet as she added several herbs into a pestle and ground them to a fine powder. She then added a couple of drops of oil and worked the mixture into a dark, strong smelling paste. Lighting a candle, Kate held a long needle in the flame, heating up the sharp point.
“I need some of your blood,” she said, turning her attention to her friend. At Tash’s sceptical face she laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s just a drop.”
Kate took hold of Tash’s hand, holding it palm side up before jabbing the needle into her soft flesh. Kate had to bite her lower lip to hide a tiny smirk of satisfaction as a small, involuntary gasp escaped Tash’s lips at the sudden, sharp pain. She held on to the woman’s wrist tightly though, and directed it over the small bowl which contained the sticky, black mixture and squeezed the tiny pin prick until several drops of bright crimson blood oozed out of the wound and into the potion.
“Agathos, accept your offering,” said Kate aloud, holding the bowl in her hands while Tash watched and sucked at the small pinprick. She then added several more herbs and the hairs that Tash had provided her with, dousing them in the concoction. Kate plaited the root strands together to make a thin but strong rope. With the preparation done, Kate closed her eyes and held her hands over the bowl as she began to chant.
“Let thy will be concealed,
As the night hides the day
Let true intent be not revealed,
In any word that you say
Your desire is thy own,
So let this amulet shield
And ward off the invader
From the power you wield.”
A small, yet dense cloud of smoke arose from the bowl, filling the room with the sour smell of burnt rosemary, bay and lavender. “Confundo, Tectum, Occulto…” said Kate, opening her eyes while making a weaving gesture with her hands over the bowl. “Let it be done.”
As the smoke died down, Kate picked up the piece of withered, black rope, dousing it in water before tying it firmly around Tash’s wrist. “I’d tell you not to remove it but I think that would be pretty redundant.”
Tash did her best to ignore the quick flashes of vision she received as Kate tied the talisman low on her wrist, beneath the hem of her glove. The woman’s fingertips brushed closely enough to Tash’s hand that she almost felt dizzy at the images that appeared and then abruptly vanished again. They were all too fast for her to make any sense of them, but Tash had the distinct sensation of something dark and sinister, something involving Emma’s spirit. As soon as Kate was done, Tash pulled the top of her glove back over the strand and smiled in satisfaction.
“Thanks, Kate. So… does this come with a money back guarantee, in case Delancre tortures me to death?” At Kate’s unamused expression, Tash made an apologetic face and said, “Sorry, bad joke. I’m sure it’ll work just fine.”
She glanced at the clock and bit her lip. “I really have to run. If I break my usual routine that’ll be just one more thing he has to be suspicious about, and I don’t want him finding out I was here – which reminds me…” Tash scooped up the letter that Kate had dropped back on the kitchen counter. “I should take this with me, in case someone sees it and realises I visited.”
Kate’s eyes lingered on the letter in Tash’s hand with a slight aching desperation. She had really wanted to keep it, read it again… and again – just so that she could actually believe that the words were real, that they existed. But Tash held it tightly, shoving it in her pocket with a determination that bespoke her resolve on that matter.
*Yes well, you’ve got what you came for after all,* thought Kate with a dry smile as she showed the woman to the door. With her spell complete Tash wasn’t even bothering to shield her thoughts any more. Her insensitive manner and urgent desire to leave without even a second thought to how Kate might be feeling in the aftermath of her revelations about her daughter’s death cut through Kate like a knife. There was little doubt left in her mind that Tash was infected with this mysterious virus even if she appeared blissfully unaware.
“Just take care,” she said as Tash jogged down the porch and over to her bike, “and if you need any more help… don’t hesitate to drop by…”
“Sure thing, thanks Kate,” Tash said with a smile as she quickly mounted her bike.
She revved the engine and took off down the street. A grin plastered itself across her face and she laughed. “Yeah, thanks Kate,” she said to herself beneath the engine’s roar, “and if this thing doesn’t work to specifications I’ll make damn sure you live to regret it.”
Even when she reached the freeway, Tash was still giggling at the irony of it all. Kate knew about the virus, but didn’t have the cure nor had made the connection with Delancre – and Kate had it herself anyway. Why else would she have seen those dark and disturbing images from the woman? And no doubt the witch wasn’t working alone. Narrowing her eyes, Tash thought back to some of Kate’s unspoken reactions. When she’d first brought up her request for something to block Delancre, she’d had a vague hint of Nikolai’s face for a moment. That made sense – it was he, after all, who’d been most obviously suspicious of the whole setup.
“So, Katie-girl, you and Kolya are trying to batter down the citadel from without while I work from within. Well, good to know where to look for my enemies when I take over Delancre’s operation. Meanwhile, you just keep on believing I’m doing it for the good of mankind. Gods, what crap!”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, May 3rd
9:30 pm
Peninsula Beveraly Hills Hotel
The Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel – temporary home to the rich and famous, and soon to be the final resting place of Marcus Dalton – well that’s if Cole got his way.
The young boy strode into the opulent lobby, his long strides taken with confidence and conviction. The necromancer and his little slut assistant had humiliated him during the failed resurrection ritual, and he had vowed to repay the favour. And now, after absorbing the wellspring of magic Darian had kept dormant within him, Cole was convinced he had more than enough power at his disposal to rid himself of the arrogant Marcus.
“May I help you?” the desk clerk asked, his nose high and his tone condescending.
The boy did not respond, instead his attention seemed to be drawn upwards, as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling.
“Ahem, may I help you?” the clerk reiterated, his manner growing ever more snobbish. A slight shiver ran threw the man’s body, as Cole’s far off eyes finally transfixed him.
“Dalton, what is his room number?” the mage questioned monotonously.
“If you think I’ll simply give away that information to any little punk who-”
Cole’s pupils flashed dark only for a moment as he reached his mind out to the idiot behind the counter. “What room?”
“626,” he replied zombie-like, unable to argue while under the boy’s spell.
Turning abruptly, Cole made his way to the elevators and waited patiently as one opened on ground level, prepared to bring him up to meet the necromancer.
Once out of the lobby, the spell that had entranced the clerk faded suddenly, leaving the man utterly bewildered. Unsurely, he picked up the phone and dialed the extension to the room of Miss Black, Dalton’s assistant.
“Hello, Miss Black,” he said in a quiet voice, once the woman had picked up. “I... I think some teenager is on his way up to see Mr Dalton.”
Onyx quickly pacified the concierge; there was only one teenager likely to try and see Marcus - Cole Matthews. She should have killed him at the cemetery when he’d had the temerity to attack her charge but Marcus had forestalled her. Kate Eldridge obviously hadn’t done anything either so it looked as if Onyx would have to correct their oversight.
Onyx let her senses range over the building, quickly sensing the cold coiled energy of Marcus and the less focused, almost electric energy of Mr Matthews. It was greater than it had been - quite significantly so. She’d have to be careful. Onyx translated her jian into this realm and began to concentrate. Her magic required no words and few gestures. It was innate, as much a part of her as her limbs, but that simplicity of implementation didn’t mean it lacked flexibility. The dead may not rise to her command but other than that most effects were within her reach. A shield of magic flowed over her borrowed skin; unlike most such constructions it absorbed rather than deflected spells, leaving the energy available for her own use. No doubt Cole would find that most surprising.
Stepping out of the door of her suite Onyx turned to the bank of elevators, her sword held low. She made another sweep with her senses making sure the young magician wasn’t trying to blindside her.
The pleasant ‘ting’ of the elevator was rather out of place when juxtaposed on the scene that was about to transpire. As the door slid open, the skinny blonde teen stepped out, a wide smile plastered on his youthful visage.
“Well well, if it isn’t the little lapdog,” he snickered, as he halted his movement and prepared for an inevitable showdown. “So is that the same little sword you were so eager to use on me during out last encounter? Well I should warn you, I really don’t think you’ll manage to get me in such a compromising situation again.”
Without warning Cole raised his hand, allowing a ball of flame to leap outwards, ready to immolate the demoness.
Onyx drew a simple circle in the air and the attack faded into nothingness, leaving her completely unharmed.
“I guess that was a bit predictable, eh?” Cole sighed, not really taken aback by the failure of his assault. “But don’t worry sweetie, there is a lot more where that came from.”
*So then, let’s test the waters.* Onyx made a gesture but what appeared in her hand was not fire or lightning but a suitably silenced small calibre pistol. The round was subsonic and the silencer dissipated the propellant gases. As the bullet flew towards Cole there wasn’t much more sound than the mechanism cycling.
Before being able to burrow its way into the kid’s skull, the tiny piece of flying death came to an abrupt halt inches away from Cole’s head. Reaching out, Cole laughed as he swiped his hand through it as if it were air.
“Now that is clever. I wonder what would have happened if I thought your little illusion actually hit me? Think my brain would overload or something like that?” Cole’s smile faded as his bright, baby blue eyes grew black, “Ahh, who knows? Science was never my forte.”
Sweeping his hands outwards, he tapped into the elemental magic Evexus could so easily manipulate and focused it on his adversary. Blue light began to shimmer around Onyx as the air in her vicinity rapidly dropped below zero. Icicles began to form on the walls and the carpeted hall began to freeze over.
“I wonder if when you unfreeze, you will spring back to life like a house fly,” he snickered, as he continued to weave his spell.
Onyx glanced around; the rapid drop in temperature was interesting but not particularly threatening. Her species were capable of operating in vacuum and planetary shadows in temperatures close to absolute zero. She doubted Cole could force the temperature down that far, however the chill would damage her disguise and Marcus would be irritated if he had to rebuild it.
A momentary shift in concentration allowed her to see the matrix of Cole’s spell. Its fragilities were apparent to her and with a minimum of energy she interrupted it. Cole could start it again off course but it would require far more energy than she used disrupting it.
“Feel free to try again child,” she said pleasantly enough.
Cole was beginning to be very irritated; Onyx had stifled all his attempts with ease. *Maybe I underestimated her,* he thought anxiously. The answer was obvious - he had - but that didn’t mean he had lost. Evexus’ power was just as ancient as that at the woman’s disposal, all he had to do was use it right.
“You know, I thought Marcus would be the blockbuster, but I think you’re the real prize here. I guess it just proves that behind every good man, there’s big overgrown cockroach demon pretending to be a woman.”
“Wrong species, I’m not a G’rnathan.”
Cole wasn’t doing very well on offence but maybe he was better at defence. She built an energy bolt, a half millennia of practice giving the process an elegance she doubted her opponent could appreciate let alone match. The bolt took the boy in the chest and knocked him off his feet. “They don’t use magic.”
Cole grimaced in pain as he managed to stagger to his feet. He could feel a rib crack inside, but the overload of energy coursing through his body did not take long to mend the damage – but still, it hurt like a bitch.
“You stupid, little hell spawn,” Cole spat as his body began to multiply, each second, a new Cole appearing within the small corridor. “I think it’s time we show you what some faery magic can do,” the multiple Coles said in unison.
Onyx stretched out her senses, trying to lock onto the real boy, but the enchantment was surprisingly powerful. So instead of wasting her time, she leapt into action, her sword chopping through the various Coles at lightning speed.
“Dancing round the WillowTree,
In the darkness of waning light,
Woe be he who spots the fire,
The faery flame enchants the sight.”
As the final incantation fell from Cole’s lips, Onyx’s form screeched to a halt. Although she physically stood in the hotel, her mind was cast into a dark bog, lost in the mage’s magical forest.
However, Oynx was no amateur. Although most would end up walking around the enchanted woods forever, the demoness’ astral body simply pounded the air. Like smashing a large mirror, the image of the forest shattered to pieces, bringing her mind back to the situation at hand. The bonds that held her in place were still in effect, but within another second she could break their hold also – but Cole was not going to allow her that second.
As Cole ripped his shirt open, Onyx was startled to see an assortment of runes inscribed on the boy’s chest.
“Yes, you recognize this don’t you?” the boy chuckled, as the runes began to burn a bright red. “And I assure you, it’s a very active seal.”
With that, Cole allowed the sigils magic to connect his essence with the demoness. Slowly, the ancient power that flowed through her veins began to leak from her body and wash into Cole’s, invigorating him just as Evexus had before.
The door at the end of the corridor slammed open. Alerted by the blast of raw force Onyx had used to break Cole’s illusion Marcus had realized something was very wrong. In his right hand was a shoulder holster. He took in the scene: Cole stood bare-chested over the crumpled form of his servant and he pulled out the gun in one smooth motion.
Crack! This weapon held no silencer and though Cole had not realized the necromancer had appeared, Marcus had rushed his shot. Blood blossomed high on Cole’s shoulder. However, like his cracked rib before, the magic inside worked fast to rebind the muscle and flesh, quickly sealing the wound.
“Cold as winter,
Black as night.
Silent as the grave,
Hungry as Death.
I call thee,
I summon thee,
I bind thee.”
Marcus finished his incantation before Cole recovered from the bullet. A dark misty figure appeared in the space between them. It lacked detail except for the eyes that glowed a malevolent red.
“His life is yours. Claim it and I send you back.”
The creature leant forwards and hissed reptilianly at Cole.
“Run Cole, you’re not good enough to break its binding.”
The boy was awed at how fast Marcus was able to summon the wraith – magic like that was no small feat. Debating whether or not to try and take on the spectre, Cole quickly conceded into following Marcus’ advice. Not only was he weakened from his battle with Onyx, but he was still rather reeling from the sensation of absorbing much of the demoness’ power.
“You’re lucky Dalton, because next time we meet you won’t be left standing!”
Cole took one last look at the wraith charging towards him before turning and running full speed to the window at the end of the hallways. With a wave of his hand the glass crumbled to dust, allowing him free passage, and with one mighty leap the teen jumped from the corridor into the air, and to Marcus’ surprise, transformed into a large raven – another delight thanks to Evexus.
The faint sound of flapping wings echoed into the distance as Cole vanished into the night.
Marcus watched the wraith disappear into the darkness. For the promise of a return to its ‘home’ it would hunt Cole to the ends of the earth but it wasn’t fast. With a little time to prepare Cole could destroy it but the thing had done its job; run the boy off.
Marcus returned to his room and picked up the phone, calling the concierge.
“Hello? Yes, there’s been an attack on my aide. No, he’s run off I’m afraid, threw himself out a window. That’s quite all right, I understand. I’m sure I can describe the assailant when they get here.”
Marcus stood over Onyx and looked down. He’d never had to check to see if she was all right before. He didn’t even know how to. He exerted his power a little, though, and placed a few marks of violence on Onyx; it would look good for the police. Hanging up the phone he crouched down just as Onyx’s eyes flickered open.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m… weakened. Where’s Cole?”
“Right now? Running from a wraith but I think Mr Matthews is in need of a little more chastisement.”
The large raven landed ungracefully in the empty park, its wings spasming erratically before changing back into his natural form. Cole’s eyes swirled with blackness as Onyx’s newly stolen energy combined with his own and Darian’s. It was a painful experience, and yet invigorating. Convulsing awkwardly on the cool grass, Cole began to laugh through the sharp intakes of air.
“Two more to go.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Friday, 4th May 2007 – 4:00pm – Kate and Galen’s House***
Galen was whistling as he opened the front door of his house and stepped inside. For the first time in ages he was actually happy. He’d started back at work and Kate was beginning to seem like her old self again; he even thought that there might be a chance for the two of them. They’d been through so much in the last four months but the truth of the matter was he loved her more than any woman he had ever known. When she was sad or hurting he felt miserable, but when she was happy… it was like the best feeling in the world!
He dropped his keys on the console table in the hallway and hung up his jacket. It was then that he heard a soft, almost inaudible sobbing. His heart suddenly sank when he realised it was Kate. He walked into the living room towards the kitchen where he stood in the doorway. Kate sat huddled on the floor, her back pressed against the cupboards as she sobbed into her hands.
Galen’s face fell in sorrow at seeing his wife so upset. He suspected it was probably delayed grief over her failure to bring Emma back from the dead. Kate had explained to him what had happened with Marcus Dalton and Cole and how she had found Emma’s soul and felt her inside her own body before sending it into her grave… Galen sighed, it had been difficult to listen to but he was glad that she had told him rather than keep it a secret. There had been far too many secrets between them both lately.
He slowly walked over to her trembling form and knelt down on the floor, wrapping an arm around her. “Hey… my darling…” he whispered softly to her, his hand rubbing her back comfortingly.
At Galen’s touch Kate looked up. Her eyes were red and puffy from her crying and her face was blotchy. Her gaze met the warm intensity of her husband and she released a pent-up sigh, suddenly wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, continuing to cry as she buried her face against his solid shoulder.
Galen looked surprised but he returned Kate’s embrace with eager enthusiasm. He held her tightly, his arms winding around her thin body pulling her ever closer against himself. “Oh honey…” he soothed gently, pressing his cheek against the side of her head lovingly, “it’s okay… shhhhh, I’m here now, I’ll take care of you…”
While continuing to hold Kate, Galen looked around the kitchen. Jars of herbs and oils lay upon the table and he frowned curiously. “Have you been doing spells?” he asked quietly to try to distract his wife from her grief. Then he noticed two chairs that had been pulled out at the table and frowned again, pulling back a little from Kate to look into her tearful eyes. “Has someone been here? What’s happened? …Kate?”
Kate sniffled, trying to compose herself, unwrapping her arms from around Galen’s neck so that she could wipe away her tears. She nodded slowly, “…Tash… a little while ago…”
Galen’s frown grew more concerned, “Tash? Tash was here? Wha- what on earth did she want?”
“A spell,” croaked Kate, clearing her throat a few times so that she could speak more clearly. “She came because she… she needed me to make her a, a spell.” Kate closed her eyes sadly and shook her head. “She has the virus Galen, I could tell. She tried to block me but she was so cold… so unfeeling… She, she came here…” Kate could feel her breath becoming ragged and drawn and she shook her head again, looking down into her lap.
Galen let his hand slide over her shoulder and into Kate’s hair, smoothing the silky length and cradling the back of her head. “What happened?” he asked again calmly, soothing Kate’s upset with his gentle, comforting touch. “Did Tash hurt you?”
Kate shook her head, “No… she didn’t hurt me…” Kate looked up into Galen’s eyes, how could she explain about the letter? Would it even make any difference? Kate wasn’t even sure what it meant for her except that if Celia and Cassy had been in that hospital, in the paediatric unit no less, there would have been no way she could have healed Emma. That didn’t offer her any consolation though, just provided her with more regrets than she could realistically deal with right now. If only she’d tried to heal Emma at home, if only she’d known about Celia and Cassy she could have taken Emma far enough away for the spell to work, if only they’d taken Emma to a different hospital, if only… if only…
Kate began to weep.
“Hey…” calmed Galen again, taking Kate back into his arms and holding her close. “Just take your time… tell me what happened…”
Kate rubbed her cheek against Galen’s strong shoulder, wrapping her arms around him again and holding on to him as though she might fall if she let go. “I swear… I didn’t know,” she mumbled meekly, “I didn’t know… Galen…”
“Shhhh,” hushed Galen again. It was obvious something had happened between her and Tash, but Kate was so upset about it right now she couldn’t think straight. “Whatever it is, I promise I won’t blame you,” he assured her softly and then fell silent, giving her the opportunity to explain.
“Tash came around with a letter,” Kate said slowly, her voice sounding a little hollow as she tried to separate her emotions from the actual fact. “No… I need to start before that. Before we first met, do you remember? The Cloch Cosan and the crystal shards that opened the Nether Arch?”
Galen frowned but nodded nevertheless, letting Kate continue.
“The White Hats hadn’t even been formed back then, it was just a handful of lost souls desperately hanging on to one another while we tried to stop this terrible evil from happening. We found out about this house in Pasadena where the remaining shards were and some of us decided to go and get them back…” Kate inhaled deeply, remembering that night so many years ago.
“Tash… Daye, myself… and Luc. We went to this house and… well, a lot of things happened. A vampire warrior and a shapeshifting demon… but we also found these two girls, Celia and Cassy Dawson.”
Kate closed her eyes. In her mind she could see flashes of scenes from that night; the vampire, the demon, Tash running from the house telling her and Daye to go, she and Luc picking up the little girls, fire and destruction…
Kate released a shaky breath. “The vampire, he started a fire, there… there was an explosion. Luc and I, we picked up the twins and ran but we didn’t get far enough. The blast threw us clear but the girls… they got hurt badly. I remember sitting with them in the back of the car while Luc drove to the nearest hospital. But we couldn’t help them, they slipped into a coma and they’ve been that way ever since…”
Galen’s frown increased as he listened to the story. “Kate, I can tell that what happened that night really upset you, but I don’t understand what it has to do with what happened here, today.”
Kate sighed wearily, pulling back so that she could look Galen in the face. “I couldn’t heal them because they were magical, they create this kind of null zone like a black hole around them where magic doesn’t work. I’d forgotten about them Galen, I truly had, I didn’t know they’d been transferred to the same hospital…”
Galen closed his eyes as the realisation of what Kate was saying sank in. “Where we took Emma,” he finished for her. “That’s why, when you tried to heal Emma it didn’t work. Because of this magical black hole?”
Kate nodded slowly. “I thought… I don’t know, I thought that when it came down to it I was no good, that I failed Emma when she needed me the most. I mean… what good is having all this power if it can’t help the people you love the most?”
Galen looked away sadly. Far from blaming Kate any more he’d begun to believe it had been his own intervention in her healing spell which had been the final blow to Emma’s recovery. Now it appeared that neither of them were to blame at all.
“And Tash?” he prompted after a moment’s silent contemplation, “Where does she come into all of this?”
“The Foundation has taken care of Celia and Cassy’s medical bills for the past two years. Tash said she’d received a letter from the hospital last month returning their check, something about the twins being moved to another facility. I guess she must have just put things together from there.”
“And she came round to tell you?” Galen frowned again, shaking his head in dismay.
“She came round because she needed me to do a spell for her,” corrected Kate numbly. “The letter was just a convenient excuse, a way to soften me up in case I told her where to go.”
Galen’s face screwed up into an expression of complete disgust. “She used you… she used the death of our baby to manipulate you into doing some stupid spell!? And you did it for her… didn’t you? You should have told her to go to hell, Kate!”
Kate began to cry again, sobbing into her hands. Galen’s anger melted away again as he held his wife, soothing her and cradling her trembling body in his warm embrace. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he said again and again, “I didn’t mean to shout…” Galen held Kate tighter as she continued to cry, “So where’s this letter now?”
Kate pulled back a little, her watery eyes looking up into her husband’s. “Tash took it… she didn’t want anyone to know that she’d been here…”
Galen gritted his teeth in restrained anger. Kate’s words only reinforced what he suspected about Tash’s motives for seeking out his wife. There had been no desire to help her friend or ease her grief. Just a selfish opportunity to take advantage of a woman who was already on the verge of breaking down entirely. “I just don’t understand why you helped her,” he said gently, his voice free from accusation. “If you knew… why did you let her use you like that?”
“I had to…” sobbed Kate quietly, “She’s in too deep with Delancre, he could have her murdered or worse if he finds out about her plans…” She shook her head in dismay. “I don’t know if what she told me was the truth but I couldn’t risk it, and as for everything else…”
Kate wept sorrowfully, holding her head in her hands. “Did you think I liked it? I knew what she was doing, of course I knew! She’s my friend… my Tash… and she used me, manipulated my guilt over Emma’s death so that I’d help her – she, she treated me like I was the enemy!”
Galen held Kate in his arms again, pressing her head close against his chest as she continued to cry. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this Galen…” she wept tiredly, “Watching our friends behave this way… I know it’s not them, I know they wouldn’t act like this if it wasn’t for the virus but… It doesn’t make it hurt any less, it doesn’t make the things they do, the things they say any less painful.”
“I know…” Galen hushed quietly, “I know it hurts… but you’re looking for a cure and then maybe… maybe things will return to normal…”
“I don’t know that things will ever be the same,” Kate said sadly. “Besides… how do I know that I don’t have this virus? It affects people with magical abilities and… and I’ve done some terrible things, unforgivable things…”
“You made a few mistakes,” said Galen very gently, stroking Kate’s hair from her tear-streaked face. “You’re only human Kate, you’re allowed to make mistakes just like everyone else…” His eyes down-turned sadly, “Just like I did.”
Galen continued to stroke Kate’s hair lovingly. “I’ve made so many mistakes but the worst was turning my back on you. I’ll never forgive myself for that, or for the things I said to you, the… the things I called you.” Galen looked sad and full of remorse. He slowly removed a tissue from his pocket and gently wiped the tears from Kate’s cheeks.
“I feel the same way,” sniffled Kate, her eyes searching the weary but handsome contours of her husband’s face. She loved him dearly but sometimes she wondered if they’d ever be able to forget the pain they had caused one another. “Maybe you can’t forgive yourself,” she said softly, “but I might be able to… forgive you…”
The corners of Galen’s mouth turned up into a slight smile, though he remained silent as he took hold of Kate’s face between both of his hands so that he could look deep into her dark, watery blue eyes. “How could you believe for a second that you have anything as dark and evil as this virus inside of you? You kind, generous, amazing woman. Sure, you’ve made some mistakes in these past months and they have been tragic and misguided but never selfish and never malicious. I know you never intended to hurt anyone, Kate, that’s the difference.”
Kate looked away but Galen lifted her chin up, forcing her to hold his gaze. “When you found out about Reah and Damen… you felt bad, you hurt inside because you’d caused your friend pain. Do you think Daye felt any remorse when she hurt you? Or Tash?”
“I just don’t know what to do any more…” admitted Kate sadly, as lonely tears rolled down her bare cheeks again. “I used to feel so strong inside and lately I…” She pulled herself away from Galen’s embrace, “I don’t know… I can’t explain…”
Galen looked confused as he drew back a little to give her some space, resting his hands on his knees. “I want to help…” he said pathetically.
“I know you do,” admitted Kate, her voice softening as she saw a slight glimmer of hurt in Galen’s eyes. “But I don’t know how to tell you what I feel…” Kate sighed and rose to her feet, looking down at Galen who still sat on the kitchen floor. He seemed so small and lost she thought, like a child.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “but I just need some space to think on my own.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***May 3rd, 2007- Outskirts of Los Angeles- 5:30 am***
“Dammit!”
Polina held her knee tightly, her eyes squinting from pain. Breathing heavily, she opened her eyes and moved her knee towards her, grimacing at the sight. Her knee was scraped from side to side. She’d been riding when her bike had run over a fairly large rock, causing her to fall off.
The blood was leaking out of it, causing her to groan. *I cross half the world with barely a scratch and I get hurt outside the damn city?* she though bitterly, harshly tearing off the bottom of her black Tool t-shirt.
With the long, black piece of cloth, Polina brought it around her knee. She tightened the cloth, a majority of it covering her wound, and tied it into a knot. The young Lautari sighed, outstretching her right leg where the scrape was. It had taken her about three weeks to get from Romania to Los Angeles. Within her first week, her money had quickly run out, leaving theft as her only option.
***April 19th, 2007- Germany- 3:00 am- FLASHBACK***
Alesander Lautari lay quiet, his body slumped on half of the bed. Sheets were sprawled across his body, a fair amount belonging to his partner. He knew not her name, but after drinking a fifth of vodka and being very aroused asking for her name was the last thing on his mind.
Polina sat in the darkened corner of the dorm, fiddling with a single piece of string. She watched her brother’s chest move up and down, indicating that he was asleep. The young Lautari sighed, grabbing onto the nearby table and pulling herself up. She turned and began opening drawers, her hands moving through the endless stash of junk.
Giving up on the table, Polina stepped over a hamper of unwashed clothing, and a stack of overdue papers. She rolled her eyes; Alesander was basically wasting their parents’ money, since he refused to do his work and gladly accepted the offer of a party. Lina soon stumbled upon his pants that he’d worn that night, and dug through its pockets.
*Score!* She found his ragged brown leather wallet, and opened it up quickly. There, she found 23 Euro dollars. Polina smiled at her success and pulled out her own wallet. She stuck the money in there and closed it, returning it to her own back pocket. Lina closed Alesander’s and returned it to his pants, shoving the dark blue jeans in a corner.
As Polina stood up, she caught sight at another item: Alesander’s partner’s pants. She snatched the clump of light blue jeans and slipped her hands through the pockets, rummaging around. A smile sprouted upon her face, hissing, “Yes,” indicating that she found the girl’s wallet. The wallet was ripped open, and Polina grinned wider. 46 Euros.
It was her lucky day.
After slipping the money into her own wallet and returning the girl’s wallet to her pants, Polina threw the clump at the end of the bed. She had been stealing from everyone at the party last night, collecting a good 200 Euros.
Lina opened Alesander’s closet, where she had stored her bike. She rolled it out, thinking of her future plans. *All right, LA is halfway across the world. Question is; do I wanna get there safely or do I wanna get there quickly?* She pondered, proceeding to walk out when she stopped. Polina leaned her bike at the threshold, walking to Alesander’s desk.
Taking a blank piece of paper, she scribbled a note in their native tongue:
Alesander-
I can’t thank you enough for taking me in for the past few days. You’ve helped me more than you realize. Thank you.
-Polina
Dropping the pencil next to it, her eye caught the refrigerator, and she scurried towards it. She opened it, letting out a mist of cold air. Besides the great amount of liquor in the mini-fridge, there was a half empty bottle of Sunkist. *Hey, it’s a liquid.* She grabbed its top, and stuck it in her bag.
She stood up and moved to her bike. Lina gripped the handlebars, dragging the bike into the dormitory hall. The gypsy ignored the few people still awake, since they were either drunk or preoccupied with their partners. *I could always use the Trans-Siberian Railroad… Dominika went on there a few times; she said it only takes six days to get to the other side of Russia…*
A week. She smiled. No matter how far she would have to peddle, it would save her a good amount of time in the end.
****
Sighing, Polina placed her hands on warm, black pavement, pebbles pressing into her palms. Her force was driven into the ground, lifting herself from the road. Her bodyweight rested upon her wound, causing her to take a sharp breath. Lina’s breathing became heavier as she gained her balance.
She stood still for a moment, confirming that she’d be okay. Polina picked up her bike and sat upon it. Making sure her bag was on her back, she slowly began to peddle. Her speed increased, and quickly she entered the city limits.
Reintroducing Polina Lautari played by Alexa Vega [recast]
(thanks to Ally for the suggestion :D)
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***May 3rd, 2007- Adriana’s Apartment- 7:15 am***
Running her slim fingers through her hair, Adriana opened up the morning’s paper, breezing over it. She wasn’t really paying attention, twisting a piece of stray hair with her index finger. Sighing, she sipped her coffee.
Brody entered the kitchen, pulling on a casual shirt. He walked over to the coffee pot, took a cup from the cabinets, and poured the hot liquid into it. He inhaled the aroma and brought the cup with him to the table. The Russian softly kissed Adriana’s neck, causing slight chills to go through her spine. He sat down and sipped his coffee.
“I’ll be gone for avhile, just so you know,” Brody began, grabbing some of the paper from Drea.
She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “Why?” she began, when it dawned on her. “I see. You’re going to see that fat little girlfriend of yours and that screaming brat.”
Brody brought his mug down, creating a thud sound. His face slowly began to turn scarlet, when he breathed deeply, allowing his natural color to return. “Believe it or not, I like seeing my family. And don’t speak bad about Yulia. She does her best vit Damien,” he said coolly, looking over the sports section of the paper.
Adriana’s grip on her coffee cup tightened, the reemergence of Brody’s sister Tatiana’s words echoing loudly through her ears.
”…that is vy she vill be the future Don’s vife, and you vill be nothing more than an old mistress of his who he von’t give a second thought to.”
Drea held back her thoughts again, pushing out the little bitch’s voice. Adriana focused her attention on Brody, who was halfway done with his coffee. She sighed. At the thought of her beau, Tatiana’s voice arose again in her mind, much to her dismay.
“Brody… he vas in a mental institution for five years in Siberia for being a sociopath. Five years!...”
“Brody?...” Drea began, waiting for his reply.
The Russian simply uttered a ‘hmm’, indicating for her to continue.
Adriana went on, “Your sister, Tatiana, mentioned that you spent some time in a… um… institution.”
This caught his attention, for his head shot up from the paper and his ice blue eyes gazed upon Adriana.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Am I that insignificant that you won’t tell me what’s happened in your life?”
The tension in the room intensified, Brody nervously sighing and taking a long sip from his mug. He crumpled the edges of his paper, clearing his throat.
“Vat goes on in my life is no von’s business but my own. I vas hoping that you vould respect my privacy, but I guess it vas vishful thinking,” he replied, not looking at Adriana.
Her blood began to boil. *Why does he always do this to me!?* she thought bitterly. Drea’s large brown eyes left the paper to the Russian, as she snapped, “It is my business to know whether or not you’ve been in a loony bin!”
Suddenly Brody shot up from his chair, allowing it to flop onto the floor. He pushed the table from him, making a scraping noise. The Russian stood in front of Adriana, his eyes rimmed with an uneasiness. His right hand wrapped itself around her neck, tightening his grip.
“Don’t you EVER talk about that place! You have no idea vat it’s like! Don’t EVER speak it about it again!” he roared. Brody’s face was a deep scarlet, his blood boiling.
Almost instantly, his blood cooled, and Brody noticed the scene. Adriana’s face was violet-blue, her hands trying to pry off his own. He released his grip, setting Drea into a fit of coughs for air.
Brody stepped back, a bit in shock. He wasn’t shocked by the action; hell, he took pleasure in it. But it was to whom he done it.
“Adriana, I… I did not mean to…” he began, when he gave up on it. Brody grabbed his keys from the counter, but looked back at Adriana.
She now had collapsed on the floor; regaining her breath was quite a challenge for her. The Russian swallowed hard, and said quickly, “I’ll be gone for a veek, Drea.” He scurried out of the kitchen. The door being opened and closed was evident.
Adriana’s face returned to its normal state, the natural reddish-pink color coming back to her cheeks. She rose from the floor, her body slightly limp. Had what she thought really happened?
Drea leaned against the counter, a nauseating feeling at the pit of her stomach. She could barely believe that he’d just… snapped. That’s the only way she could describe it. He snapped at the mention of ‘loony bin’. As she stood up more properly, another voice chimed in her head; this time, Dominika’s.
“Adriana… Brody is not t’e best catch in t’e vorld. You don’t know him as vell as I do, and he is not a man you vant to get involved vit…”
*Oh God,* she thought miserably, loosing her stamina. “She knew… that bitch knew this whole time, and she didn’t bother telling me! Fucking cunt!” She spoke loudly, her anger sparked once more. Her nails dug into the counter, her cheeks flushed.
From her pit, the nausea rose. Adriana gagged, her hand automatically covering her mouth. The feeling increasingly came up, forcing Drea to rush to the bathroom. Stumbling through the halls, she collapsed on the toilet, letting her insides flow to the bowl.
Using her whole body, she heaved into the toilet. The gypsy hoarsely coughed as she lifted herself from the seat. She tugged the lever, flushing down what she had puked up. Adriana knelt there in silence, particles of her ‘throw-up’ caught in her hair. Drea fiddled with the clean ends of her soft, dark brown hair.
*How did I end up with Brody in the first place?* she questioned herself, twisting her ends about her finger. *It was late March… I was out with Dominika…*
“God, Dominika!” she shouted, scoffing at the memory of her sister. From the deepest corners of her, a small voice arose.
“You suggested it. In fact, you bullied her into letting you follow her. She warned you, Adriana; you just didn’t feel like listening…”
“Shut up!” she bellowed, covering her ears.
“You’re not as bright as you seem, ya know?”
Adriana shot up, removed her hands from her ears, and looked around. She saw no one. Stamping her foot, she shouted, desperation in her voice, “Who the hell are you!?”
From her right side, a small hand gently squeezed her own, causing Adriana to turn her whole body around, gasping. She stumbled backwards, pulling her hand back.
It was a little girl, her skin lightly tanned. Her dark brown hair was long and silky, running past her shoulders. She was very formal; the little girl was clad in a Catholic school uniform. She wore a red plaid jumper over her white long sleeved blouse. Her hands were placed on her hips, while she tapped her shiny black Mary Janes, her legs in black stockings.
The girl gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s about time you started to listen. You were driving me nuts!” she complained, her foot tapping at the same rhythm.
Adriana shook her head, her face confused. “This isn’t happening… it can’t be…” she muttered, her eyes never leaving the girl.
The little girl raised her eyebrows, her large brown eyes shimmering. “Oh? In a world full of vampires, demons, and things just plain creepy, me being here isn’t possible?” she questioned.
Adriana, becoming annoyed, stepped forward. “Well, yeah! You’re me… twenty years ago…”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** Friday, May 4, 2007, 4:00 pm ***
*** Daye’s apartment ***
Daye unlocked the door to her apartment and breathed a sigh of relief. She was tired, but it was not the bone draining exhaustion of the last few weeks. For the first time in a long time, she was starting to feel like she was regaining control of her life. She'd made a decision yesterday morning after leaving Marcus. It had been kind of him to help her, and Daye realized she'd been sort of a mess. She regretted having laid her burdens on him, but the respite had given her a chance to really think. It was past time she stood on her own two feet and tried to make some sense of what was going on with her life. Marcus Dalton had hired her to do a job and she could easily see he wasn't the kind of man interested in being anyone's white knight. So, it was time Daye become her own rescuer.
Daye had spent the last day and a half tapping into various resources, trying to find out just what was making her "sick". After speaking with Nikolai, there was no longer any doubt in her mind that something strange was happening to her, and the clue he’d given her had given her a place to start. She'd managed to rule out any enchantments or possessions. What she hadn't managed to do was get any closer to understanding what was happening to her. She'd discovered what it wasn't, but not what it was. There were a lot of different theories about not only what mana was, but also about how it actually worked. What that meant for her was that there were no quick or easy answers to be found.
Still, as tired and frustrated as she might be, Daye was feeling better. She'd done something, and in the long run that made all the difference.
Dropping her light spring jacket on the hall table, Daye stepped into the living room, humming softly to herself. She adjusted the collar of the silk tank top she'd been wearing, but stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Cole lounging against her mantle.
"Cole?" Daye asked hesitantly. "What are you doing here? How did you get here?"
The boy walked forward slowly, his movements awkward and unnatural; like his body was a marionette for some other being.
“I told you I would make things better, Amanda,” he said monotonously, as a crackle of magic danced over his face, moving from his forehead, down his neck, and disappearing into the folds of his clothes. He was seeping with stolen power, so much so that ever now and then his body would expel useless power.
Tilting his head, the boy’s eyes flashed an indigo hue. “Whatsss the matter, Amandaaaa? Uou sssseem a little afraid.” Cole’s voice was not his own, but instead dark and serpentine.
Daye backed away from Cole slowly. They boy was not himself, and Daye felt cold fear seeping through her.
"What have you done?" she asked, dismayed, and with dawning horror. "Oh goddess, Cole, what have you done?"
“Shhh,” he cooed gently, his voice gradually returning to normal. “I promised you I would help, and that’s what I’m going to do.” The teen began to unbutton his shirt, revealing underneath an assortment of glowing tattoos. “It’s your magic that’s making you crazy. Like the others, you don’t deserve your power.”
Cole’s feet began to lift off the ground, as his eyes grew dark. “But me, I... I can do wonders with the magic you have. I’ll finally put all that energy to good use.”
Daye glanced frantically around the room. She didn't know where Cole had gotten this sudden influx of power, but she realized immediately she was no match for him if he really wanted to lash out at her with it. Her only hope was a slim one, but she grasped at it anyway.
"Cole," her voice was reasoning and calm, "you can't do this. We swore oaths... blood oaths, remember. We can't harm one another. You don't want to do anything foolish."
“Oh yes the oath,” the boy smiled, raising his hand, so Daye could see his palm. “Notice anything out of the ordinary?” he chuckled, seeing the woman’s shocked expression. Where the scar had once been was now burnt over, removed with Kyle’s fiery blood.
“So, do you have any other last attempts to stop me, or can I just get on with this?”
Daye swallowed convulsively. She was no match for the power Cole was wielding, but she wouldn't sit idly by and be the boy's victim.
"I won't just roll over and die for you, Cole," she said softly. "I'm not going to make it easy."
As she spoke, Daye drew on her own magic, a mixture of light and dark. She shouted out an incantation and threw up her hands, a ball of energy shooting forth headed straight for Cole.
“Are you serious?” he laughed as the attack exploded harmlessly against his defenses. “That was the lamest bolt I think I’ve ever seen.”
Cole responded quickly, retaliating with a blast of lightning, and unlike Amanda, his attack made contact. With a painful crash, Daye’s body smashed against the wall and thumped to the floor.
“Don’t do this, Cole” she winced, trying to rise back to her feet.
With a wave of Cole’s hand, Daye’s body went rigid; like a fly caught in a spider’s web, so was she helpless to escape Cole’s magic.
Moving closer to her, the boy closed his eyes and began to concentrate on the runes on his chest. Brighter and brighter did they burn as their draining influence reached out, grasping at Daye’s essence.
The teen’s body jerked spasmodically; no game, sport, drug… orgasm could ever compare to the rush he had whenever he did this. The magic, filling his senses, mingling with his mind, body, soul; it was amazing. On the opposite end of the spell, Daye slumped to the ground, powerless and defeated.
It took a moment for the euphoria to pass, but once it had, Cole uncaringly walked passed his former mistress, making his way to the door. “I figured I’d leave you with just enough magic to make a pen float. Who knows, maybe you can make some money in the subways with that trick.” He laughed before he left.
Daye heard his mocking words and laughter as if they came from a far way off. Then he was gone and all that was left behind was silence. She slid to the floor in a huddled mass and waited. Her magic was all but gone. Her defenses were decimated and both her mothers were waiting. She knew it.
Holding her breath, Daye waited for them to start in on her. She sat there for so long just waiting, her eyes clenched tightly shut. But, of course, the voices never came. Finally, Daye opened her eyes and hesitantly stood. She stared at the hallway where Cole had disappeared, comprehension slowly dawning. Her face broke into a slow smile and then she began to laugh. She stood alone in her empty apartment and laughed and laughed and laughed.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday, May 4th, 5:55 pm
LA Coast Line
The sky, the gound, the Earth, the air… everything - it all seemed so different, as if the boy was seeing it for the first time. The unthinkable power he’d managed to collect from Darian, Onyx and, only moments before, Daye, left Cole’s senses - and everything else about him for that matter - far beyond mortal limitations.
Staring off into the vast waters, Cole stretched his essence out to the universe, reveling in the wonders that he now had access to. Elemental spirits danced through the air and ocean, and underfoot, the teen could feel the very energy of mother Earth coursing everywhere.
“It’s… it’s incredible,” he said aloud, smiling as a sprite fluttered onto his nose, giggled, and then flew off again.
“I never knew how blind people could be,” he started happily, only to have his smile cascade down into a very thoughtful grimace. His supernatural senses had picked up an assortment of marvels outside his being, but it was only a matter of time before they discovered internal surprises.
*What do we have here?* Focusing all of his power inwards, Cole scanned his being, looking for the unnatural parasite that Evexus’ magic detected. It didn’t take long for the boy’s senses to fall upon the malignant Hyde virus, gluttonously feeding on the near endless supply of magic that filled his being.
Worry lines etched onto his youthful visage as his mind worked into overdrive. *What is this? Did it come when I stole one of their powers?...No… I would have sensed it. But then what?*
Sitting down in the tall grass, the boy crossed his legs and began to meditate. Deeper and deeper did his awareness delve into his own being, scrying carefully for the source of the mysterious entity.
Although unnoticed by his consciousness, a shiver ran down his body, as his mind finally located what he was looking for.
Dark, it was so very dark and cold, and Cole wasn’t even sure there was something in the vast emptiness until it spoke to him in its horrible, chilling voice.
“I am the great corrupter. By my will shall you all be set free, no longer inhibited by the weak constraints of human morals.”
The astral body of the boy stepped back in fear, not sure what to do. He tried to summon magic to destroy the virus, but in the black abyss that was its body, no spells could exist.
“Try not to cleanse me from your body, for I am absolute, and my will shall be your will.”
“The hell it will, I do what I please, when I please by my own accord,” Cole screamed, as he once again uselessly tried to summon a bolt of energy.
“You cannot harm me, for as long as I am within you… a part of you.”
*Within me…*
In a moment of epiphany, Cole reeled his senses back to the physical plane and quickly rose to his feet, pulling off his shirt. The normally red runes began to grow a light green, responding to the chant Cole started.
If Lasarna’s Seal could help him absorb energies, it could also expel them.
Magic whipped and whirled around, as the sigils blistered with power. Cole could almost hear the Hyde virus scream, as the runes’ magic wrapped around it, and began to tug it free from his body.
A black mist began to smoke out of his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. The boy’s hand rose, silently commanding the energy around him.
“Solid!”
In a flash of brilliant light, the black smog grew corporeal, taking on the form similar to the wraith Marcus had summoned a day prior.
“What have you done to me?” the creature hissed in confusion.
Smiling, Cole’s eyes faded to black. “I thought it was obvious,” he laughed, before conjuring an enormous ball of flame that instantly immolated the creature, leaving it nothing more than a few dust particles. “I’m killing you.”
As the creature charred into nothingness, a strange feeling overcame Cole. *Oh god, what have I done?* he thought, his eyes turning back to blue. A rush of pent up guilt stormed into his being, making him see and feel the pain he had been causing while under Hyde’s influence.
“Oh God... Oh God… Darian, Daye…”
Surprisingly, even though the virus within him had been destroyed, the regret and sorrow faded almost instantly. The black magics he had been working with so much had finally begun to taint his spirit. No longer did the boy need a sickness to make him do bad things; now, he was the bad thing.
The pleased grin returned back to his face as his eyes flashed a bright red.
“Hush child. There is no need to worry. Mother Mariah will take care of you.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday, May 4th, 11:45 PM
The Big House
It was a time when decent people would be in bed, sleeping off the fatigue from the day, but in this particular house there was a definite lack of ‘decent people’. Cole had returned from Daye’s a few hours prior, and had spent the time since then meditating. If he were to finish off the last on his list, he would need to focus, and that meant quelling the annoying voices in his head.
“Boy, listen to mother, I can bring you everything you want.”
“Don’t listen to her Cole, Mariah is evil. Fight it.”
“Ssssillllencccce humansssss, we shalllll rule thisssss vesselllll.”
*Shut up all of you! None of you are getting anything from me, understood!*
Cole rubbed his temples tiredly, trying to massage the voices out of his head. *If it could only be that simple,* he thought disappointedly, as the three started up again. Thankfully, a noise in the corridor was enough distraction for the boy to focus on something other than the three cronies, if only for a while.
Rising to his feet, Cole slunk to the door and opened it quietly, only to see Kyle making his way quietly down the hall.
“Ahem, going somewhere?” Cole called out, making Kyle jump slightly in surprise.
Kyle shrugged, barely turning to face Cole. “Out, mother. Man, do I have to answer to you all the god-damned time? I’m a big boy now, Cole. I don’t need you watching over me.”
Kyle’s movement stopped abruptly as Cole’s magic held him in place.
“I asked a simple question,” he said calmly, controlling the spell to spin Kyle so they were now facing each other. “So I really don’t think you need to take that tone of voice with me.”
Bristling with rage, Kyle’s voice turned even more hostile. “I’ll take whatever damned tone of voice with whoever I damn well please, Cole. And not you nor anybody’s gonna stop me. So drop the spell and get out of my way before I move you out of my way.”
The older teen felt the binding strands dissipate, allowing him once again to move freely.
*Don’t let him talk to you that way, kill him!* Mariah sang, adding fuel to the fire already brewing in Cole.
*No, Kyle is lonely and just needs a friend Cole, don’t get angry,* Erin Blaise counteracted, trying to instill peace.
Ignoring the mothers, Cole turned a fiery gaze on his friend. “There Kyle, I released the spell, and not because your threats scare me. Goddess knows I could incinerate you before you could even move, but because frankly, this confrontation bores me.”
“Yeah, I hear that,” Kyle replied gruffly, turning away to head out. “Just don’t bewitch me or whatever again.”
Cole watched as his friend disappeared from the house, and headed out to whatever midnight rendezvous he was going to.
*So you don’t want to tell me where you go Kyle,* the boy thought, making his way to one of the many large balconies that looked out onto the water. *Then I guess Ill just have to find out myself.*
As Evexus’ power washed over him, Cole’s skinny body changed into that of a large raven and took off into the night.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday, May 4, 2007 5:10pm
Daye’s apartment
Daye sat cross legged on the floor of her work room, surrounded by the trappings of witchcraft. She watched the small coin before her as it danced in the sunlight slanting in from the window. Every so often, a small chuckle escaped her.
“Well, this is a fine mess, isn’t it?” Daye asked herself aloud. “That bastard drained nearly all my magic. I can’t feel any of it. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Daye stood up suddenly and danced around the room. Along with her magic, Cole had taken away the voices, the confusion… and the pain. For the first time in months, she felt like herself again.
“He’s cured me. Somehow Cole’s cured me,” Daye laughed giddily. She stopped suddenly and stood stock still, realizing something. “I could go home… I could just go now…”
Her happiness faltered momentarily. She thought of Marcus, who’d been so kind to her. He’d helped her so much, and she could see now that she hadn’t been with him for the reasons she’d believed. Marcus was very different from her other friends. He followed a much darker path, and she knew very little about him, but still she cared for him. There was much more to him than he wanted to show. She couldn’t just go home. She couldn’t just leave without any explanation.
*I have to talk to him,* Daye thought. *He deserves that much.*
***
Daye approached Marcus' door a completely different woman than the one who'd come begging for his help only a couple of days before. She smiled broadly as she brought her hand up to knock solidly.
Thanks to Cole, everything was going to be okay again.
Marcus put the phone down and managed to hold down the simmering anger that had been slowly building since last night. That puppy had had the sheer temerity to attack Onyx, the effrontery to steal her power. He should have shot the punk when he had the chance. One bullet and this entire matter would have been closed.
The telephone call hadn’t helped either. Andropov couldn’t meet him till the day after tomorrow and absolutely refused to discuss ‘business’ over an ‘unsecured line’. Not that he wanted Cole dead - killing him was no guarantee that Onyx’s power would return - just maimed. That way when Marcus did rip all that stolen power away, the fool would have a permanent reminder.
Marcus looked up in surprise when he heard the knock on the door. Forcing his anger down he walked down the short hallway to open it. There would be no Onyx to screen any visitors. Onyx hadn’t been able to maintain her human shell after Cole’s attack and he doubted anybody would enjoy seeing it in its native form.
Opening the door revealed Amanda, seemingly much recovered from when he saw her last but for all he knew it was another glamour.
“Amanda. Come in. How are you?”
Daye smiled broadly at Marcus. She was just so very, very happy. "Oh, Marcus, I feel... wonderful."
Neither willing nor able to resist the impulse, Daye threw her arms around Marcus and embraced him exuberantly as soon as she entered the room. "The most amazing, most wonderful thing has happened."
Marcus stiffened in Amanda’s embrace. This exuberance was quite at odds with what he was used to.
“Amanda please.” He grasped a wrist, still unhealthily thin in his opinion, and peeled the woman’s arms from around him.
Sheer happiness seemed to bubble up from her. It was a quite dramatic transformation and Marcus wondered just what had caused it. “What did you take, Amanda?”
Daye was far too happy to let Marcus' reticence deter her. "Take... oh that's rich," she replied, laughter bubbling out of her. "What did I take? No, dear man, not what did I take, but what was taken from me," she replied. "Can't you tell? Don't I look different or feel different or smell different or something?
"It's gone... Marcus, Cole took so much that it's all gone," Daye sighed in genuine relief.
Marcus really only heard one word in Amanda’s statement. “Cole. He did this?” Taking note that Amanda was still practically floating on air he grabbed her forearm in a brutally tight grip.
“Amanda, be quiet!”
His harsh tone gave the witch momentary pause and before she could start babbling he said, “Tell me what happened.” Marcus tightened his grip further as Amanda inhaled. “Slowly…”
Marcus' grip on her arm was too tight and he seemed very angry at her mention of Cole, but Daye couldn't find it in her to get upset herself. What had happened was just too wonderful.
"He came to my place a few hours ago and he attacked me," Daye said. She grinned. "He drained me of nearly all my magic. Isn't that wonderful, Marcus?"
“He drained you of your…” Well the boy was nothing if not ambitious, it seemed. The rest of Amanda’s statement registered and he wondered why a powerful witch like her would enjoy being bereft of her powers.
*Because he’s taken the other stuff as well.* Marcus released his hand and moderated his tone. “Did you hear Mariah or Erin before you came here?”
"No, not since just before Cole left," Daye replied, laughing once again. "Don't you see, Marcus? He took them as well. They must have been tied to my magic somehow, and... there's more. I feel like me again. I'm happy and content... and..."
Daye's voice faltered. For the first time that afternoon, she realized that she also felt the weight of all the things she'd done in the last few months. Including having an affair with the man standing before her. Daye blushed and stepped deliberately away from where Marcus stood.
She wasn't smiling any more. "Oh... I've done so many terrible, terrible things..." she said softly. "But Drew told me I could come home anytime. He said he would be waiting for me, no matter what."
Daye looked up at Marcus, ashamed of the things she'd done with him. She could admit now, though, that she did genuinely like Marcus Dalton. He was different from the other men she'd been with in recent months.
"I... I'm going to go home, Marcus," Daye said. "I only came to tell you. I didn't think it would be right to just disappear on you. You've been... a good friend to me."
Daye hesitated a moment. "I'm sorry I won't be able to complete the cleansing you contracted me for," she said, unwilling to even discuss the other aspects of their relationship. "I'll of course return the payment you've already made."
Marcus saw that sudden blush and the step backwards. *Ah. I’m no longer a friend. I’m the ex-lover.* Marcus kept still. He had no right to feel as hurt as he did. Amanda was engaged and he was not his father.
“Home… Drew and Sam and Maia. He’s a lucky man, Amanda, and a fool if he refuses you.” Marcus kept his voice steady. “As for the money…” He stopped. He was about to tell her she could keep it, that it was only money and meaningless but he realized how that could sound. “I understand. I’ll instruct my bankers to expect your repayment. As for the cleansing,” he shrugged, “There are other witches.”
Impulsively Marcus crossed the space between them to brush a chaste kiss across her cheek. “Good luck.”
Daye was surprised at the sudden flash of hurt his cool words caused within her. She stared at him in silence for a few moments and then shook her head once decisively. "Well, aren't we being civilized?"
Daye sighed. "I'm sorry, again. I was being unfair, and unkind. You certainly deserve better than that from me. I know you might not be interested, but if possible, I'd still like to be your friend."
Daye paused, cocking her head thoughtfully. "You've been here for me at a difficult time and Goddess knows, when the dust settles, I'm probably going to need all the friends I can get."
Daye was a demonstrative person and it was only natural for her to reach out and take Marcus’ hand.
"I'll understand if you never want to see me again, Marcus, but I'll be saddened by that fact too."
Marcus gently disengaged his hand and noted the dismay on her face as he did so. “I’d… I’d like that Amanda.” Nothing more was possible. So they would be friends despite everything.
Daye smiled warmly. She chose to ignore any lingering sadness. This was a joyous day, not a melancholy one. No matter what else might happen now, she was finally going back where she belonged.
"Thank you so much, Marcus," Daye said. "For everything."
Daye leaned down and dropped a light kiss on his mouth. "And," she added as she stood back up, "my friends call me Daye."
Marcus nodded. "Good bye... Daye," he said with the faintest of smiles.
Daye goes home
*** Friday, May 4, 2007 8pm ***
*** Daye’s house ***
Drew sat on the sofa, cuddling Maia in his lap while Sam read to the girl from her favorite book of fairy tales. He gently stroked the soft curls that rioted around the girl’s head. No matter how hard he or Sam tried, they never could manage to create any sort of order with Maia’s hair. Amanda had been the only one who could. Drew could remember so clearly.
***
*** Flashback ***
*** November 10, 2006 ***
Drew hurried down the hallway towards the bedroom. He’d forgotten the book he needed for his first class on his nightstand. He’d stuck the pages of notes and the books there last night when Daye had sauntered in from their bathroom wearing nothing but a smile and effectively distracted him from the work he’d brought to bed with him. Drew was grinning at the memory of her crawling across the bed and pushing the papers out of her way when he was stopped in the bedroom doorway by the sound of her voice softly crooning in Gaelic.
Drew just stood stock still for a moment, frozen by the sight before him. Daye sat in the rocking chair by the window, rocking gently and singing to the drowsy girl in her lap. Maia was staring out the window. Daye had a brush in one hand and was running it through Maia’s curls, soothing with her words and touch. She put the brush aside and began to deftly plait Maia’s hair, rocking and singing all the while. They were the picture of contentment, and Drew’s heart swelled as he watched them.
*My family,* he thought proudly. *That’s what they are. Mine.*
*** End Flashback ***
“She’s asleep,” Sam’s voice broke into Drew’s reverie, drawing him out of his memories and back to the present. Drew blinked slowly and then looked up at Sam, sheen of moisture in his eyes.
“I… I’m gonna go put her to bed,” Sam’s voice was hesitant. He placed a gentle hand on Drew’s shoulder, offering both comfort and understanding. “She’s okay, you know? We’d know right away if she wasn’t.”
“I know,” Drew replied, a wealth of sadness in his voice. “I just… I miss her so damn much.”
“Yeah, well… me too,” Sam said, lifting Maia into his arms. He didn’t say anything else as he carried the girl out of the room, but Drew knew that Sam felt Amanda’s absence as keenly as he himself did.
Once Sam was gone, Drew gave up any pretense of things being normal. He sighed and pushed his hands through his already disheveled hair. He missed Amanda so much that sometimes he could barely breathe. She’d been gone almost two whole months and still every day, Drew found himself listening for the sound of her voice. At first, he’d gone by the apartment to watch for some sign of her every day after she left. That was, until Sam figured out what he was up to.
*** Flashback ***
*** March 22, 2007 ***
Drew stood in the shadowed alleyway and stared up at the apartment building across the street. A lone university professor in this neighborhood would normally just have been asking for trouble, but from the first night he’d taken up this post, the criminals and deviants alike had given Dr. Langley a wide berth. Apparently it was easy to sense his fury and frustration and the very good chance that he’d be more than willing to burn some of it off by beating to death anyone who bothered him.
From his vantage point, Drew could see Amanda moving about in the window of her old apartment. She was wearing a flimsy robe, unbelted and she had just emerged from the bedroom. Undoubtedly, the man she’d taken upstairs earlier was still somewhere in that bedroom. The very thought made Drew physically ill. It was all he could do not to run across the street on nights like this and grab by the collar whoever she’d picked up and pound the man’s face to a bloody pulp.
“Why are you torturing yourself, Drew?” Sam’s voice came out of the darkness. Drew didn’t even turn around. He couldn’t take his eyes off that window.
“Go away, Sam,” Drew ordered tersely. He had wanted to storm up there the night he’d discovered where Daye had gone. Sam had been the one to warn him not to. Sam said that Amanda was doing the right thing. He said that she was potentially dangerous to all of them and that was why she’d had to leave. Drew thought that was all a load of crap. Only Sam’s threat to leave with Maia if Drew approached Amanda had kept him from dragging the woman back home.
“I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m not leaving,” Sam replied softly. “You can’t talk to her. You have to stay away from Daye. I already told you that.”
Drew whirled around to face Sam, his face a savage mask of hurt and anger. “Yeah, you told me that already. You’ve told me a lot of things, haven’t you Sam… except the one thing that really matters. Can you tell me now? Can you tell me why she’s doing these things? Why is this happening?”
Sam lifted his gaze past Drew’s shoulder and looked up at the window of Daye’s apartment. She hadn’t bothered to draw the shades, so they had a perfect view of her as she passed back and forth through the room. Sam looked back at Drew, a flush creeping up his cheeks. Daye wasn’t precisely decent, and he’d caught a glimpse of her that left him feeling very uncomfortable.
“I… I saw Erin… in a dream… but it wasn’t really a dream,” Sam began, “You know what I mean?”
“Erin?” Drew looked bewildered for a moment. “Who… do you mean Amanda’s mother? She was in your dream? What’s that got to do with Amanda? Her mother’s been dead for years. Why would you be dreaming about her?”
“Cause, well, she’s a Blaise… and you know about their destiny… about ‘the dreaming’ and Mother Mariah and all that,” Sam explained. “Erin… she’s been given like a leave or something, from wherever she went,and she’s trying to help Daye. She told me we have to let her be… Erin’s afraid, Drew. If we bring Daye home, Erin’s afraid what that might mean… what that might mean for Maia.”
Drew was growing more confused as Sam went on. He didn’t understand any of this. So, Sam had had a dream about Amanda’s dead mom, so what? It was just a dream, except that Sam had some abilities… some powers that Amanda had as well. Drew knew, in theory, about this ‘dreaming’; this subconscious realm where Mother Mariah was trapped. He knew that Daye’s family were the guardians of that ancient evil and the sphere she inhabited. Daye was in control of that now. She’d been given control after Mariah failed in her attempt to cross over. So, maybe Sam was saying that now Erin was communicating with him somehow.
“What does this have to do with Maia?” Drew asked, dreading the answer. He loved that little girl as much as he loved Amanda. They were his family.
“From what Erin says, their afraid that Daye might hand her over to the enemy or something,” Sam said. “I’m not real sure… it’s kind of confusing. All I know is that Daye can’t be around Maia right now, and that we’re responsible for her. That’s why Daye left and that’s why she didn’t say anything to us. Whatever’s happening with her, for whatever reason it’s happening, she knew that we would be safe if she was gone.”
“But… I can’t just leave her like this,” Drew protested. “I can’t walk away. She’s… I love her, Sam. I don’t know how to be without her. I don’t want to.”
Sam struggled against his own sadness. He had to be strong… for Drew, for Maia, and for Daye. Erin had been absolutely clear on that point. It was up to Sam to hold things together. There was no one else.
“This can’t be about us,” Sam said. “Please, Drew, we have to leave her alone. We have to let Daye work this out somehow. It’s the only way. She isn’t alone. Her mother is with her. She’ll be all right. We just have to be patient.”
Drew wanted to scream and rant at Sam. He didn’t want to be patient. He didn’t want to leave Amanda alone. He didn’t want her to work things out on her own. He wanted to storm up to that apartment, grab her and shake her until she came to her senses; until she loved him again. But he knew that would be useless. Once again, Drew was stymied by things he couldn’t fully understand. He felt sometimes like this world that Amanda lived in was constantly coming between them, and there was nothing he could do about it.
With a resigned sigh, Drew glanced back up at Daye’s window and then turned away. “Fine, Sam, whatever.” He sounded so tired, so defeated. “Let’s just go home. Maia needs us.”
***
Drew glanced up when Sam walked back into the room. The other man looked sad and careworn. Drew assumed he looked much the same himself.
“She’s all right?” Drew asked.
Sam nodded. “Yeah… I think I’ll go lie down too.”
“Ok,” Drew replied.
Sam paused before leaving the room. “You should get some sleep too, Drew. You look tired.”
“In a bit,” Drew answered, waving off Sam’s concern.
“Waiting up isn’t going to bring her home any faster,” Sam said softly on his way out the door. “She’ll be here when she’s better.”
Drew didn’t respond. He watched Sam leave the room and thought about his parting words. He knew that Amanda was going to come home. He believed that with all his heart, but even more so since Erin had started contacting him in his dreams. The spirit of the woman was sad eyed, and Drew knew that she suffered as she watched Amanda acting so erratically, but he felt hopeful, because Erin believed that her efforts were making a difference. Drew had to believe that too. The thought of losing Amanda forever was too hard for him to do otherwise.
*** Flashback ***
*** December 25, 2006 ***
“Mmmm…” Daye nuzzled Drew’s neck and sighed. “That was… very nice.”
“What can I say?” Drew’s voice was filled with laughter. He stroked his hand across Amanda’s midsection and thrilled at the feel of her stomach muscles jumping under his hand. “I was very inspired by this Christmas present.”
Daye giggled, glancing down at the red silk and white marabou trimmed nightgown she’d emerged from the bathroom in a couple of hours earlier. “When I saw it at the store,” Daye whispered into Drew’s ear, “I suspected you might find it inspirational.”
Drew grinned foolishly and then leaned over to kiss Amanda thoroughly. “I love you, Amanda. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, my love,” Daye responded. She lifted her left hand, extending her fingers so that the ring she was wearing flashed and glittered in the firelight. “I love you too.”
Daye looked suddenly very serious. “And I mean that Drew, I do love you. I love you more than I would ever have thought I could. You make me so happy. I’ve never known happiness like this before.”
Daye’s heartfelt words caused Drew’s heart to start somersaulting in his chest. He turned his head slightly to watch her engagement ring cast rainbows of dancing light on them both. “I feel the same way. I want you in my life forever, Baby. I never want to let you go,” Drew swore, cradling her close to his body. “Never.”
*** End Flashback ***
“I never want to let you go,” Drew whispered, staring bleakly ahead as he sat on the sofa.
“Never,” the soft voice echoing from behind him caught Drew by surprise. He was afraid to turn around, afraid that it had finally happened. He’d been thinking so long about Amanda coming home that he’d finally started to hallucinate about it.
“Do you… really mean it?” Daye asked, afraid to step all the way into the family room where Drew sat so quietly. She’d used her key to unlock the front door and walked softly from the foyer into this room. She seen Drew immediately, sitting on the sofa alone, looking so lost and so tired. Her heart hurt just to see him like that. Then he’d spoken, those soft words she could remember so clearly from the night they’d become engaged. As she waited for him to acknowledge her, Daye nervously fiddled with the fire opal on the ring she’d slipped back onto her hand before she’d come here.
Drew turned slowly around, unwilling to even hope it might be true. He stared at Amanda standing so still in the doorway. She looked exhausted, but serene. Her lips were turned up in a hesitant smile and she was nervously rubbing her thumb over the stone of her engagement ring. Drew recognized the nervous habit she’d picked up since December immediately. He couldn’t stop staring at her.
Drew was looking at her now, and there was hope in his eyes. He was wearing his favorite UCLA t-shirt and his hair was tousled. Daye could see that he’d been shoving his hands through it as he sat thinking in the silent room. It was a nervous habit of his that she recognized immediately. She couldn’t stop staring at him.
“Drew…” Daye began.
“Amanda?” Drew started at the same time.
Daye laughed softly. Drew stood up slowly. He was afraid to move too fast, afraid he’d frighten her off. He smiled gently at Amanda. “Baby? Is it really you?”
Daye nodded, her eyes filling with tears. He looked so good, so solid and safe. She was standing in the shadowy hallway and he was bathed in the light from the fire and she wanted so much to run to him, to cross the space separating them and throw herself into his arms, but she was scared. What if she couldn’t come out of the dark and into the light? In her dreams it had been that way. What if it was that way here as well?
Daye could see that Drew was confused but hopeful. She couldn’t stand it any more. She had to take a chance.
Daye rushed to Drew, tears coursing down her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life. She didn’t relax until she felt his arms closing around her as well, folding her in his embrace. Then she sagged against him.
Drew held Daye close, her head resting just above his heart. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head again and again. “Baby… you’re home. It’s gonna be okay now. You’re home. You’re safe.”
Daye had never heard sweeter words in her life. She could only cling to Drew and sob, all the pain and loss and loneliness of the last few weeks pouring out with her tears. Drew held her, swaying gently from side to side as he spoke soothingly. He waited out her tears and even shed a few of his own.
Finally, Daye’s tears slowed and she was able to take a step back and look up into Drew’s face. He was smiling down at her, making her feel safe for the first time in so long. She couldn’t help but smile too. Whatever had happened, whatever might happen in the future, at least she’d always have this to remember. She was home.
daye and drew have one special night together
*** Friday, May 4, 2007 11 pm ***
*** Daye’s house ***
Sam stood in the hallway before Maia’s door, watching Daye as she gently laid the sleeping girl in her crib. Daye stayed beside her for a few moments, gently stroking Maia’s back. Finally, she straightened up and moved out of the room, gently closing the door behind her. She stopped in front of Sam and watched him in silence for a moment.
*She looks too thin,* Sam thought, wanting to reach out and touch her just to prove to himself that she was real. *And she looks so tired… but she looks happy.*
“Hey, Sam,” Daye smiled fondly at him. “You doing okay?”
Sam nodded dumbly. He didn’t know what to say to her. He didn’t know how to tell her how good it was that she’d come back, and he didn’t know how to tell her he was still so afraid. He was still so afraid of what might happen. He couldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t tell her that he couldn’t trust her just yet, either, but that was the truth. Daye had been gone for nearly two months and she’d shown up so unexpectedly tonight, and Sam didn’t know what to think about that. He wanted to believe that everything was just going to be okay now, but he couldn’t be sure… and Drew didn’t want to talk about it tonight, not any of it. And Sam couldn’t bear to hurt either of them. Daye was his sister and Drew had become as close as a brother to him. They’d helped one another keep it together all this time and Sam didn’t want to say to him any of the things he couldn’t say to Daye… not yet. He’d wait. He’d give them both this time, and he’d wait. But he would watch. He had to keep his eyes open. He was Maia’s protector now, and if he had to he’d protect her from Daye as well. If he had to.
“All right then,” Daye sighed. She stepped forward and leaned in to kiss Sam on the cheek. “Goodnight, Sam. It’s late and I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
“Sure,” Sam replied. He wanted to grab hold of her and hug her close, but he was just too unsure. Instead, he stepped back and let her pass. He didn’t move until she’d gone back into the bedroom she shared with Drew. Only when she was gone did he turn towards his own room, his shoulders slumped and his mind full of questions.
***
Daye left Sam alone in the hall. She could sense that there was something bothering him, but she didn’t want to make Sam uncomfortable by pushing him. Sam would tell her what was wrong in his own good time, and until then, Daye had other things on her mind.
She stepped into the bedroom and shut the door quietly. Drew stood across the room at the window with his back to her. He was staring out into the night. Without a word, Daye glided across the room, coming up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his bare shoulder. She took a deep breath, drawing in the warm masculine scent of him. Daye turned her head and placed a gentle kiss on his neck.
Drew sighed, taking hold of her hands at his waist. “Hi,” he said softly.
“Hi yourself,” Daye replied. “You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” Drew turned in her embrace until he was facing her. He held her close. “I’m just so glad you’re here.”
Daye nodded, her eyes filling with tears once again. *He’s so wonderful… and I don’t deserve him, not at all.*
“Drew?” Daye began, afraid of what she had to say, but sure she couldn’t go on without saying it.
“Yeah, Baby?”
“I… I need to tell you… I just… I’m sorry,” Daye said, unable to give voice to the guilt and horror she felt over the things she’d done.
“Baby, I told you before, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Drew said. “I love you and I’m just happy to have you home.”
“But… Drew I can’t… I don’t… this isn’t right. I don’t deserve this… your understanding and your forgiveness and your love. I’ve done things, terrible, horrible things and I don’t deserve this.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How can you say that?” Daye was flabbergasted by his words. She had been from the moment he’d taken that stance. No matter what she said, Drew insisted none of what had happened over the last few months mattered at all. Daye couldn’t understand or accept that. She had been out of control. She had betrayed him and all the other people in her life that cared about her. Daye deserved punishment, not forgiveness.
“You don’t understand, Drew,” she said. “You keep saying it doesn’t matter, but it does. You don’t know what I’ve done. You can’t say you forgive me without knowing what needs to be forgiven. This is not fair to you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Drew. I… I’m not the woman you fell in love with. I… if I were stronger, I would never have come back. You, and Maia and Sam, all of you… you deserve better than me. I have to tell you. You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“Amanda, stop,” Drew ordered gently. He stepped away from her so that he could see her face clearly as he continued. “You’re wrong. I do know. I’m not just trying to pretend that the last couple of months haven’t happened. I know more than you realize. I know where you’ve been. I know a lot of the things you’ve done, but more importantly, I know you. I know who you are… who you really are, and I love you. That’s what really matters. You’ve been sick… and you’ve done things you aren’t proud of. I know that.”
Drew paused, reaching out to cup Amanda’s chin in his hand and gently lift her gaze to his. “I don’t care about those things. Nothing you’ve done changes who you are. None of it touches you… your soul… it doesn’t matter. You would never hurt me… never hurt Maia or Sam. If you were able to, you’d die first. I know that’s the truth.”
Daye was amazed at his words. She’d thought he didn’t know, but she’d been wrong. He knew about the other men and about the things she’d done with them. He probably knew about the magic as well. He knew and he still believed in her… in them. How could she ever deserve that kind of love and devotion? How could she ever make amends for all the evil that had been done?
“I… I’m not wrong about myself,” she said softly. She brought her hands up to cup his face. “I don’t deserve you, but I want to. I want to so very much. I want to be the woman you love. I want to be the woman I was. I wish… If I could somehow take it all back I would, but I can’t. And I probably should never have come back to you. You deserve better than me, than the things I’ve done, but I… I love you too much to be without you. So, I’m going to try and make up for what I’ve done. I’m going to try and make you proud… try to be the woman you deserve to be with.”
“You feel tainted, but I know that you aren’t,” Drew said. “And I know what I say doesn’t matter much here, but you are already the most amazing woman in the world. Amanda, Baby, you have to see that. I’ve been with other women. I’ve been in other relationships, but never before has anyone touched me… become a part of me. You’re the one, my only one. There will never be anyone else, not for me.”
Daye couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks as Drew pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Baby, always and forever and only you,” he swore, bringing his mouth down to cover hers. He kissed her slowly, sliding his lips against hers. Daye responded without hesitation, her own lips parting for him.
Daye drew back, feathering kisses along his mouth and down his chin. “There’s no one else for me, either,” she vowed between kisses. “None of them mattered. You’re the only one who matters.”
Even as she spoke those words to Drew, a small voice in Daye’s mind protested them. She had met one man who mattered while she was gone. For a brief moment, her thoughts turned to the handsome necromancer she’d said goodbye to only a few hours earlier. Daye knew in her heart that he was not like the others, but she didn’t want to look too closely at that. She forced herself to forget about Marcus as Drew hugged her to him.
Drew’s body was on fire from the feel of Amanda’s hands on his body and the gentle sweep of her lips over her his face and chest. He had been without her for so long, and he loved her so very, very much.
“Baby, baby,” Drew said hoarsely, “I… I can’t wait much longer.”
Daye pulled back and gazed up at him, her eyes shining with love. “Then you shouldn’t wait,” she whispered, pulling his head down to kiss him and backing them both slowly towards the bed. Drew let her lead, only too happy to follow.
Daye led Drew to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling him down beside her. She tangled her hands into his hair, clambering up into his lap. Drew’s arms tightened around her and he slanted his mouth to allow her deeper access. He caught the hem of her green cotton t-shirt and inched it up her body, his fingers brushing against her soft skin. Drew broke away to whip the shirt over her head and then immediately returned his mouth to hers.
Drews hands cupped her breasts as Daye arched against him. There was no comparison between his touch and what she’d experienced while away. With Drew every caress, every kiss spoke to her heart and she answered without hesitation. She was open to him, and Drew filled her; body, mind, and soul. This man was home. She belonged in his arms. No one else could make her feel this way. No one.
drew and daye make plans
*** Saturday, May 5, 2007, 2 pm ***
*** Daye’s house ***
Maia sat on a small plastic chair before the coffee table, a crayon gripped in her pudgy fist. She was scribbled furiously in a coloring book that lay open before her.
Sam’s voice came drifting out of the kitchen, where he was washing dishes and singing along to the radio.
Daye and Drew snuggled together on the sofa. He was stretched out against the arm, with her bottom nestled between his thighs and her back resting against his chest. The television droned in the background, but the History Channel held no claim on anyone’s interest right now.
Drew inhaled the sweet scent of Daye’s hair and squeezed her gently. He couldn’t seem to get enough of touching her today. Every few minutes, whatever they were doing, he had to reach out and touch her face or her hand, or draw her close for a tender embrace. He just had to reassure himself that she was real, that she was here.
Daye’s hands were nestled in Drew’s as they lay together just enjoying the peace and contentment of being there. She felt his thumb brush across the back of her left hand, running across the cool surface of the gem on her engagement ring.
“You know,” Drew said softly, his words a warm breeze near her ear, “it’s time we made some plans. An engagement isn’t meant to go on forever. We’re supposed to seal the deal with an actual wedding.”
Daye laughed softly. “So I’ve heard.”
“So… what do you think?” Drew’s voice held an expectant note. “When should we do this thing?”
Daye swiveled in his embrace so that she could see Drew’s face. Despite his lighthearted approach, she could see that he was very serious about the question.
“Uhm… you want me to just pick a date off the top of my head or what?” Daye asked, opting to follow along with his teasing tone.
“Well, I don’t know,” Drew shrugged. “I just… I want us to move on. I want to get our life back on track as soon as we possibly can.”
“We haven’t even really discussed things,” Daye replied. “There are… you should know…”
Drew brought his finger up to her lips, silencing her with the gesture. “I already told you, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you think you need to confess to me, I already know. I know where you’ve been, and for the most part what you’ve done. I just don’t care. All I care about is you. I don’t need details. I’ve already forgiven you. Let it go, Baby.”
Daye felt tears gathering in her eyes at his words. He spoke softly but with conviction. She couldn’t fathom how he could really mean what he said, but she could see that he did. “All right,” she whispered. “It’s gone.”
Drew smiled broadly. “Ok, then… the wedding?”
Daye nodded through her tears. He was right. If they were going to be okay, then they had to move on. “Uhm… we could shoot for a small ceremony near the end of June or the beginning of July. Do you have an idea what you want to do?”
Drew looked thoughtful. “Small works for me,” he replied after a moment. “My family, some of your friends… you know, Tash and Kate, and… well just the people we care about the most. What do you think?”
A dark cloud descended on Daye’s thoughts at Drew’s mention of her friends. She had no idea where Tash was or what she was up to, but she knew that if Kate had told her what had transpired between them, then neither woman was likely to be interested in celebrating anything with them. She had so many apologies to make, and Daye knew she couldn’t hope for the kind of forgiveness she’d found here at home.
“I… I can’t say for sure if my friends will be available,” Daye answered. Her heart ached at the thought that the two women she’d been closest to in her life might not be there to share her happiness, but she knew it was her own fault. “Even so, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. We could get married on the beach, just around sunset. It would be so… perfect.”
Drew nodded slowly. He had noticed Daye’s hesitance and the fleeting sadness in her eyes when he’d mentioned her friends. He suspected suddenly that he had not been the only one hurt by Daye’s behavior the last few weeks, and a part of him wondered what had happened, but he had decided not to ask and he wasn’t going to.
“That sounds fine, Baby,” Drew agreed, dropping a light kiss on her forehead. “Just fine.”
Daye wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head so that she could kiss him. She felt suddenly so full of hope. Maybe they could make this work. Maybe they could be happy, finally happy after all this. Daye thought it was possible; anything was possible as long as they were together.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 3rd May 2007 – 7:45pm
Ahmanson Theatre, Downtown LA
Stuart picked nervously at his suit as he entered the foyer of the Ahmanson Theatre in the heart of downtown Los Angeles and threaded his way through the throng to the box office. He scanned the crowd from side to side, hardly daring to breathe and anticipating that he might be disappointed. Even though Alessa had sounded so friendly on the telephone, she’d not agreed to see him until tonight after that fateful dinner last week when he’d shown her the documents he’d unearthed about her. And a part of him wasn’t sure that she really would show up tonight, for all that she’d sounded eager to see the play.
Then his eyes alighted on her form standing near the corner of the box office, and his breath caught in his throat at her beauty and simple elegance. She wore a figure-hugging gown of deep purple that shimmered when she moved, and he floated towards her with a besotted smile on his face. She glanced at him and smiled as he approached, and he swept her hand up to kiss it softly in greeting.
“Ah, Alessa. You are so magnificent tonight. You take my very breath away.”
Alessa laughed softly, responding to his compliment with one of her own. Stuart looked very handsome in his elegant suit, but then he always looked as if he had been born in a suit – not at all self conscious. She looked around and smiled again. It was the first time she had gone to the theatre in ages, and the prospect of watching the play enchanted her. She loved musicals, and “Phantom of the Opera” was one of her favourites, but she couldn’t deny that part of her excitement was because of the company.
Stuart had called her almost every day since they had had dinner together, and although she didn’t want to admit it, she’d loved it. The man was overly careful and gentlemanly, treating her as if she were a fragile crystal, but somehow she didn’t mind. She didn’t begin to question why a kind of behaviour that would have annoyed her immensely in Chance or Ellis didn’t make her even raise an eyebrow. Maybe because in them she would have felt they were going out of their way to treat her like that, while in Stuart it came naturally.
“I think we should enter, Stuart,” she said, noticing they were almost alone in the luxurious hall of the theatre. The rest of the spectators had disappeared through the heavy red velvet curtains leading to the interior of the theatre. She started walking, but Stuart took her hand again, stopping her gently.
“This way, my dear,” he said, gesturing to the stairs leading to the private boxes overlooking the stage. Alessa smiled brightly at him, and started walking up the stairs, followed closely by the Watcher.
Ensconced in their private box, they had an unsurpassed view of the stage, but Stuart found himself unable to concentrate on the story unfolding before him. Instead he was captivated by the rise and fall of Alessa’s body as she breathed gently in and out, and the way her swept-up hair revealed the luscious curve of her neck.
Reaching across, he took her hand in his, and smiled at her when the contact made her look at him. Saying nothing, he let his hand trail up her bare arm until it rested in the hollow between her shoulder and neck, where he gently caressed her. He felt Alessa shiver – he hoped with delight – beneath his touch and he sighed contentedly.
Stuart’s caressing touch was delightful, and Alessa fought the urge to lean her head onto his hand. She had been deluding herself, thinking about this meeting as anything but a date. Stuart had made his feelings clear last time they met and every time they had talked on the phone.
*Well, the delusion worked,* she thought, finally surrendering to his touch, and admitting she had known this would happen. The wild Alessa had known in herself, even while making love to Ellis, that she would sleep with Stuart too, eventually. Yet the knowledge didn’t make her feel guilty or ashamed or anything. She didn’t even spare a thought for Ellis, though technically she was cheating on him.
Alessa all but melted under his delicate ministrations, and Stuart smiled. Leaning right over the side of his seat he planted a soft kiss along her jawline, then whispered in her ear, “Let’s enjoy the rest of the show, then maybe we could find someplace nice to have some quiet time together.”
Alessa nodded, pouting at his soft scolding. “Don’t distract me any more, then,” she said, looking at him sideways, but her eyes betrayed her feelings, and she finally smiled. She then turned her gaze to the stage, having decided to enjoy the music. Soon she forgot everything around her, as the play unfolded and music enveloped her. The singing was compelling and she had to control herself from singing along. But the lyrics rang so true, touching her as they never had in the past.
Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation
Watching a solitary tear trickle its way down her face, Stuart just had to break Alessa’s stricture against distracting her and he reached out a finger to wipe the droplet up. Bringing it back to his mouth, he tasted the subtle saltiness of her tear and smiled sadly at her.Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination
Silently the senses
Abandon their defences…
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendour
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender
Turn your face away
From the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night
Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams
Purge your thought of the life you knew before
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar
And you’ll live as you never lived before
Softly, deftly, music shall surround you
Feel it, hear it, closing in around you
Open up your mind
Let your fantasies unwind
In this darkness which you know you cannot fight
The darkness of the music of the night
Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before
Let your soul take you where you want to be
Only then can you belong to me…
Floating, falling, sweet intoxication
Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation
Let the dream begin
Let your darker side give in
To the power of the music that I write
The power of the music of the night.
…You alone can make my song take flight
Help me make the music of the night…
“It’s a beautiful song, is it not? Now, whenever I hear it I will remember this night, and the way you make me feel.”
Alessa blushed, and caught his hand in his. “Stop doing those things, or I’ll let my ‘darker side’ give in,” she scolded, and turned her eyes back to the stage, enjoying the feeling of his eyes on her. She suppressed a smile; it was her time to tease.
His concern easing to a warm, eye-twinkling smile, he nodded and murmured, “As you wish.”
All too soon the production ended amidst tumultuous applause and shouts of ‘Bravo!’ that thundered throughout the theatre. As the curtain came down for the last time and people began to move, Alessa bent to pick up her small clutch purse from the floor but Stuart restrained her with a light hand on her elbow.
“Let’s wait a few moments,” he suggested. “The rush will die down and it won’t be so suffocating out there.”
She smiled and leant back in her plush, velvety chair. “The play was beautiful, Stuart. I’d forgotten how much I liked it,” she said, as she purposely watched the last spectators leave the auditorium below. “I have to thank you for a perfect night.”
He smiled winsomely and replied, “Oh, no. I have you to thank. Any night without you in it is unbearably imperfect. But with you here…” he swept up her hand and kissed the back of it, letting his lips linger over her skin, “everything is absolute perfection.”
He lifted his eyes to gaze into hers, his blue depths rich and dark with unspoken thoughts. His voice was slightly husky as he continued, “And the night is yet young.”
Feeling suddenly shy, Alessa retrieved her hand to brush a stray curl that had fallen from her bun, and smiled nervously. Her brashness of earlier gone.
“Of course, we are having dinner. I’d forgotten.” She looked down and saw the theatre was finally empty. “I think we can leave now.”
Rising smoothly from his seat, Stuart offered his hand to help Alessa up. He gazed at her for a moment, watching her blush under his stare as he gauged the meaning of her words, and he smiled sadly. “Ah, I should have whisked you off to that ‘someplace quiet’ while I had the chance, I see. But then, it would have been a shame to miss such a magnificent show.”
He gently traced one finger down the line of her cheekbone to rest at the corner of her mouth, feeling her soft, full lips beneath his fingertip. “I had hopes for tonight, my dear. You are so intoxicating – but of course, if you wish merely to have dinner and go home then tonight will still be perfect for me, simply because I have spent it with you.”
His touch was enthralling and Alessa gulped, looking into his eyes. She smiled, and felt the tip of his finger linger a fraction of a second in the wetness of her open mouth, before lowering his hand to her neck again. She suppressed a moan, and brushed past him, a sniff of his cologne reaching her nostrils; it was musky and very masculine and made her shiver with excitement.
“Let’s see,” she said, turning around in the threshold. “As you said, la noche es joven, the night is young.”
Leaning closer to her, Stuart planted the softest of kisses on her mouth before placing his lips near her ear. His breath raised goosebumps on her skin as he whispered, “Well, there’s always room service.” Pulling back again he once more grew a little uncertain. “But if you’d rather eat out, then I’ll be glad to take you. Just name the place.”
Alessa wetted her lips uncertainly. She felt a liquid fire race through her limbs. She wanted him, wanted this chivalrous man who made her feel so special, but the remains of her conscience reminded her of Ellis, of Chance… *They are not here,* she thought, desire overcoming any scruples. She smiled, and it was her time to reach his ear.
“Room service sounds good.”
Fifteen minutes later the pair walked arm in arm into the Hyatt Regency, where Stuart had booked a suite for the night in anticipation of a favourable outcome. He could hardly believe that it had come to pass – that a woman as lovely as Alessa had actually agreed to come back with him to the hotel. But then, Alessa was no ordinary woman, he told himself as he wrapped an arm around her waist while they walked, feeling the sway of her hip beneath his hand.
His heart was beating fast as they rode the elevator, and he cursed the presence of an elderly couple with them which prevented him from doing more than breathe in Alessa’s intoxicating perfume. Finally they reached their destination, and Stuart opened the door onto the luxury suite with a flourish, executing a flawless courtly bow as he said, “Entrez-vous, mademoiselle.”
With a slight bow, Alessa entered the luxurious room and looked around, enchanted. Then she turned around to look at the man closing the door behind his back. Stuart was smiling and his eyes held a hunger that accelerated her pulse. She hadn’t spoken during the trip to the hotel, holding her tongue in anticipation, and she remained silent now too as she took off her shawl and rested it next to her small purse on the small round table in the middle of the suite. There was a big bouquet of red roses in the middle of the table and a bucket held a chilled champagne bottle. Two flute cups completed the tableau.
“You’ve thought of everything,” she said, taking a rose from the vase and fingering its long stem, an inviting smile on her lips.
As if in a daze Stuart walked towards her and gently closed his fingers over her hand that held the rose. The flower quivered with their combined trembling and as Stuart leaned close to Alessa, his full, sensuous lips a mere heartbeat away from hers, he murmured, “I hoped for everything. I never dreamed it would ever really come to pass.”
His lips brushed hers gently before he pulled back a fraction and whispered, “And I will understand if you suddenly come to your senses, realise what a terribly insistent boor I truly am, and run from me vowing never to see me again for such effrontery as I’ve displayed to you.”
Alessa dropped the flower as she extricated her fingers from his, her hands rising to his neck. She looked into his eyes, and wetted her lips before speaking. “I have no intention of doing such a thing.”
She stood on the tip of her toes to kiss him lightly on his lips, but as he had done she pulled back again. “And you don’t really mean that. See?” she said, touching his hands, “These hands are telling me you don’t mean it, this body, these eyes that show me how much you want me.”
Beyond words now, Stuart merely moaned deep in his throat and swept Alessa into his arms. As she twined her arms about his neck he kissed her, first gently then with growing ardour as their pulses quickened. That she was returning his kisses with equal abandon was nothing less than astounding to Stuart, but the feel of her soft breast pressing against his chest was too real to be imagined.
Lifting his head to see his way, he carried her to the bedroom and laid her as delicately as a flower petal upon the smooth, satin sheets. Then he knelt on the floor beside her and let his fingertips trail down her skin, raising gooseflesh as they passed down her neck, over her shoulder and lightly across the curve of her breast.
“Oh, Alessa,” he moaned, his voice husky with desire, “I have wanted you from the first moment I set eyes upon you, but I never dared hope it would be like this.”
He closed his eyes as her fingers in turn explored his face, his neck, and tugged at the tie that suddenly seemed to be constricting his airflow. Soon the tie slid gracefully to the floor and Stuart caught the hand that began to snake its way inside his shirt. Holding her hand to his chest, he opened his eyes and began to trail hot, wet kisses down her forearm to the crook of her elbow. Alessa’s small gasp of delight quickened his own breath, but he forced himself to move slowly, even though he so desperately wanted to taste all of her now.
Alessa closed her eyes when his head returned to her face and he leaned forward to capture her lips in a searing kiss, taking her by surprise. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, coaxing hers to play. Her mouth opened beneath his persistent kiss, and she pliantly obeyed, pulling him even closer towards her, her hands holding his head as if she had to keep him there, grabbing him by that soft hair of his.
Stuart ran his Watcher-strong hands down her body and his touch made her skin come alive. He began to slip one of the spaghetti straps of her dress, his lips following his hands as they moved down her body. He kissed her throat, and as he slipped the other strap he pushed it down from her shoulders, kissing them, then moving further down, kissing the flesh in between her breasts, mounting their heat with his lips. He ran his tongue between them, making Alessa moan. He growled as she ran her hands down his chest, opening the buttons of his shirt.
Their moans and cries rose and fell as their bodies twined together on the bed and the necktie was soon joined by various other pieces of clothing. Stuart exalted in the feel of Alessa’s naked flesh against his own, the points where their bodies met almost sizzling with their heat. As her hands roamed his entire body, exploring him, he nuzzled her neck, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine.
The moment when they finally joined as one he thought he would explode then and there, but he slowed down, controlling his desire to prolong the encounter as much as humanly possible. The sounds Alessa was making almost drove him over the edge by themselves, let alone the sensations he felt running like fire along his nerve-endings. And when her cries finally reached their crescendo in one long, drawn-out scream and her body quivered beneath his, he added his guttural grunts to her voice as white-hot spears of pleasure shot through his body.
Afterwards they lay panting together, sweat-streaked limbs tangled in a heap on the sheets, and Stuart lifted one languid hand to brush at a tendril of Alessa’s hair that had come loose and fallen across her face. Bending to kiss her, their lips now tasting of salt, he spoke no words but merely smiled at her. Contented, they fell asleep, Alessa nestled in the crook of Stuart’s shoulder.
***
[/]Thanks again to Heather, for her Stuart.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 5th May 2007 – 12:30am
The raven circled high above the mansion complex, swooping down slowly as Kyle disappeared into the building. Cole had vowed to discover his friend’s secret, and now that his plan was reaching its climax he was running out of time to fulfil the oath.
“Listen boy, I could show you so much… Leave this place and listen to Mother, I will give you the power you crave.” Mother Mariah’s words echoed through his mind, her soft, seductive voice whispering promises of power and glory.
“Siiiilllennnceeee you sssssilly child,” another cried out, his tone ancient and serpentine. “You offer nottttthhhing, you are notttthhhhing. We, we however are as ancient as the riverssss and sssstonesss, lissstennn to ussss, and we shall help you.”
“Stupid Fae, I am A GODDESS!” Mariah’s voice shrieked out, causing Cole to wince in discomfort as his tiny raven feet landed on the cool grass in front of the estate’s main door. Slowly, the small wings began to grow, feathers replacing with skin… bird into boy.
“A goddeessss long forgotten….We are eternalllll,” Evexus hissed.
“Both of you, silence!” Cole commanded softly, as he walked purposefully towards where Kyle had entered the building, but stepped back in annoyance as a magical barrier rippled, blocking and further advancement.
“Tricky, tricky.” With a large smile, the teen plunged his fingers into the force field and physically tore a hole into the magical wall. “Knock, knock,” he laughed, as the large wooden door burst off its hinges, allowing him free passage in.
Deep within the mansion, two pairs of eyes snapped up as the breach was detected. A hand reached out and lingered over a bowl of still water, and within those depths an image formed of a young boy striding arrogantly through the front entrance of the house.
The second observer turned ashen. "How did he get so far without us detecting him?" he asked in a horrified tone.
Shaking his head and removing his hand from above the water, the other replied. "I don't know, but the Lord Delancre will not be pleased, I know that much."
Swallowing, the second rose and pressed a button by the door. Urgently, he spoke into it. "Inform the Lord Delancre that we have an intruder in the front hallway." There was a pause, then, "Yes, alone so far as we know. Human, male, approximately sixteen or seventeen years. Magic field detected."
The two settled back to their duties, barely hearing the shouted orders and sounds of booted feet marching down the hallways from the demon barracks.
Kyle was strolling down a corridor towards the training grounds when the first demon passed him. He appeared to be in a hurry, but that wasn’t unusual so Kyle ignored him. When six demons had passed him heading in the same direction he began to think something was up. Turning, Kyle jogged to join up with the last in line.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Breach at the front door,” the demon replied without breaking his hurried stride. “Some kid, apparently a mage. Shouldn’t be too much trouble.”
Kyle stopped running and his jaw dropped. *No way. What the hell is he doing here?* “He may be more trouble than you think,” Kyle said, matching the demon’s pace once again as they rounded the corner to the main entrance.
It didn’t take long for the group of demons to meet up with the young mage. They knew the lay of the land, and Cole had followed Kyle’s energy signature. The boy’s head tilted slightly, a blank look of nothingness on his face as his blue eyes locked onto the other teen at the far end of the demonic patrol.
“So this is where you have been slinking off to in the middle of the night,” Cole’s attention seemed to waver, as he began to move his gaze all over the walls. “It reeks of power, darkness, lies, death… Is this place so much better than the house Alessa welcomed you into?”
“Wait, I know him.” Kyle held his hand up to steady the demons for a moment, keeping his face blank. So, Cole had followed him here. That was just too bad. “Power, darkness, lies, death... Funny you should mention that. Looks like there’s a lot of it going around.”
He nodded at Cole, “You shouldn’t have stuck your nose where it doesn’t belong, Cole. Well, now you face the consequences.” Barely had Kyle nodded at the six demons than they charged towards the kid.
“Is this how you repay me, Kyle?” Cole replied softly, before raising his hand, allowing brilliant lightning to explode forth. The mage seemed to take no notice of the demons crying and spasming in front of him as he locked his attention back to Kyle. “After everything I offered you, that is not friendship in my opinion.”
Two of the demons were down, not moving. Of the other four, three writhed uncontrollably on the plush Persian carpet that lined the hallway. The last, however, launched himself at Cole, fangs bared as spines shot from his chest to impale the young mage.
With barely a flick of his wrist, Cole paused both demon and spines in mid-air, leaving the creature growling and cursing uselessly while Cole regarded Kyle with a baleful stare. At least, the demon cursed until the point where Cole crushed his windpipe, dropping him to the floor to gasp out his last remaining moments.
Elsewhere in the mansion, Delancre strode into the indoor training rooms, summoning Ana with a twitch of his head. Ana bowed to Tash, breaking off their sparring session, and walked the few paces to her master.
Making no effort to keep his voice low, Delancre said, “We have a mage loose in the house. He’s just despatched half a dozen guards and appears to be chatting amiably with that Kaoshian. See to him.”
Nodding, Ana gestured to Tash and the twenty or so other warriors in the room and marched purposefully towards the hotspot.
Kyle’s eyebrow went up as he surveyed the six slaughtered warriors, but that was the only reaction he showed. “Well, you know what they say; friendships are like business relationships, they can be friendly, but some are just there to take advantage of you.”
He focused back on Cole as the tone of his voice turned cold. “Yes, this is where I have been coming. I’m sorry, mother, I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you everywhere I went. Now, you’ve made a big mistake in bursting in here like this. Sure you’ve taken out six, but they’ve got a small army in here. Led by the Slayer. So why don’t you just leave now, hey?”
The younger boy once again seemed to stare off, his sight seeing far beyond the reach of his eyes. “How lovellllly, more littlllleee sssssoldiersss coming to play.” Kyle looked on, a little bewildered as Cole’s demeanour altered abruptly.
“I can deal with them myself!” the teen replied to himself, silencing the foreign voice.
“Although I appreciate your concern for my well being,” Cole spat sarcastically to Kyle, “Call me a curious cat, but I really am wondering what’s going on in this little house of horrors. It must be something interesting if it would turn you against me.”
“Wait, I’m turning against you?” Cynicism crept into Kyle's voice. “You’re the one who just burst in here, took six demons apart and started demanding to know what I’m doing. And if you stay around much longer, then you’re gonna find out what's going on in here and more besides.” Kyle took a menacing step towards Cole.
“Well, isn’t this adorable?” A new voice cut across the pair as Ana walked by herself around the corner. She turned to Kyle. “Kaoshian, won’t you introduce us to your little friend, there?” she asked sweetly.
“And this must be the Slayer. Wow, you’re like, totally famous and all, I mean a real underworld celebrity. You know, if I wasn’t about this close to being a god,” Cole smirked, putting his index finger close to his thumb, “I’d probably ask for your autograph.”
Cole looked back at Kyle, his large grin never fading. “Well now I can see why you like it here, she’s got a nice rack for her age.”
Kyle rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah Cole, ’cos that's why I’m here. It’s got nothing to do with the fact you and that house and that woman are all as boring as hell, and at least here I get to do something and get paid for it.”
He looked towards Ana. “Excuse him, he’s just a twat.”
Then he looked back to Cole. “If you really think I'm here for her, Cole, you don't know me at all. Although,” he cocked his head, “I guess we could say you stay at Alessa’s for the same reason.”
Ana continued to advance, stepping casually over the bodies of the fallen demons as Cole and Kyle baited each other. Behind her, the troops arranged themselves as she’d instructed. Some had circled around to come at the intruder from behind, and some from the side, while Tash stayed with a handful around the corner. Two of the demons with her were mages, and were preparing their own spells while Ana kept the child distracted.
Tash’s eyes narrowed when she heard him speak, and then Kyle used his name. *Cole, damn him.* Apart from finding out about Cole beating up Ozimandius she’d not heard of the boy since. She peered around the corner to verify it was him and saw the demon bodies. She let a smile play across her lips. *Mind you, looks like he’s doing me a huge favour here. Go for it, Cole!* she thought encouragingly at him.
Cutting across the conversation – if one could call it that – between the two boys, Ana said, “What I’m interested in, Cole – you don’t mind if I call you Cole?” Not waiting for an answer she continued, “What I’m interested in is why you are here. I’m sure if you’d asked politely we would have let you in the gate. Why come crashing in like some half-crazed buffoon?”
Cole could feel magic being gathered behind a bend in the corridor, no doubt in an attempt to contain his powers. Now that would be a sight to see. Swirling within him was the strength of a dark faery, an Atlantean Goddess and an ancient demon, not to mention his own magical abilities. Scanning in that direction with his senses, he smiled.
“Tash, what a surprise to find you here,” Cole called out, his voice turning sweet. “I didn’t know you too were a player in this little game.” The boy focused his mind on her, scanning deep into her being, looking, searching… *There.*
“That’s right boys and girls, I know what’s going on,” he teased. “The building itself is telling me of the naughty, naughty little things that are being cooked up here. Lucky for me, I burnt the sickness from my body, but you my dear Tash, you still stink of infection. Of course, someone of my abilities could easily remove it from you if you would like.”
Growling under her breath, Tash stepped around the corner to face the boy, ignoring Ana’s glance backwards at her. Sure, she was meant to stay back, but Cole had sussed her presence so what was the point in hiding any more? She was just irritated that Cole had blurted out this information about the virus. She wanted Delancre to continue to believe she knew nothing about it. And for him to suggest that she actually had it – that was preposterous!
“Remove what, Cole? I’m not sick.” She eyed his aura, flashing with wild blues, purples and more than a little black. “But you’re not looking so good, I have to say. A bit out of control, is my guess.”
Cole offered the merest twitch, as though to raise a hand, and Ana moved. Before Cole could speak or do anything she was upon him, but a force pushed her back, hard. She tumbled to the floor and rolled with it, coming back up on her feet even as the demon mages rounded the corner and loosed their spells at the boy.
Magic crackled in the air as their spells hit Cole’s, lightning coruscating off the walls and melting the picture frames. While he was thus distracted, the demons from the side and rear charged, rushing at Cole to pin him to the ground. Or kill him. Most of them weren’t that fussed either way.
As the demons charged, Kyle stepped back behind the rush. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to come to blows with the boy. No, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to spend the rest of his life as a toad. Best to see how the cannon fodder fared first.
Cole cackled wildly as one of the demon’s clawed hands wrapped around his tiny throat and smashed him to the wall in an attempt to break his neck. Normally, it probably would have worked, but there was just so much energy whirling about him that Cole hardly felt anything.
“Rsssthnniaaa Aluraaaa ssslllaaaaaaarraakk.” Evexus’ ancient magic spilled out, calling forth power long forgotten in the tongues of man. The demon winced as his hand grew cold. The frost moved from the tips of the claws all the way over his large hulking form. Before he could so much as move, the incantation had left him nothing more than an overgrown ice sculpture, which Cole easily smashed with a word of power.
Hearing the sibilant words spilling from Cole’s mouth, Tash repressed a shudder. She knew that voice. Evexus. But if Cole had Evexus inside him, he must have stolen the creature from Darian. Idly she noted that it probably meant Darian was dead. Ah well. Not for the first time she cursed her lack of magic power, as she whistled in appreciation of Cole’s achievement. It would be quite a thing, she thought, to be able to harness that sort of energy. It also explained the boy’s wildly fluctuating aura.
Content with staying out of harm’s way, Tash watched the demons assail Cole. Several fell, but eventually the weight of numbers took its toll, even on the teen’s new souped up abilities. The demonic mages slowly brought their counterspells to bear, neutralising most of Cole’s magic, or at least containing it.
“Kill him,” Ana calmly ordered, when it was apparent that her soldiers had the upper hand.
Cole scowled as spell upon spell smashed into his protective aura, slowly but surely taxing his reserves.
“Destroy them all boy, you have the means to do so,” Mariah shrieked, not wanting her host vessel to be killed.
“If I kill them now, I risk using too much power, power I need to confront her!” Cole retaliated, as he commanded an attacking demon to burst into flames.
“Givveee ussss your body boy, and we sssshalll riddd you of the pesssssky soldiers.”
“I SAID NO!”
Cole’s eyes turned black as dark energy coursed out from him like a malevolent tide, holding all those around in place. “You are all very lucky that I don’t have time to deal with this annoyance,” he said, moving his gaze from Tash, to Ana, and finally to Kyle. “Else I would grind you all into dust, and let the wind carry you away.”
The light of the room started to waver and fade as Cole reached out to the universe, drawing into him a vast amount of power simply vanishing from sight. Teleportation was a wonderful thing.
In the aftermath of the teleportation, there were only the moans of the wounded as everybody else turned slowly to look at Kyle. He shrugged under the attention. “Emotional problems.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Flashback***
Wednesday, May 2nd , 2007 - 23:55
1318 Poplar Avenue - Reah’s Apartment
Quin was sitting on a chair gazing out her bedroom window with her legs hugged close. Resting her chin atop her knees, Quin rocked her head to the side while she continued to gaze out the open window into the darkened night waiting for her bitch of a cousin to return from the supermarket after she’d forgotten to buy some milk. And she was taking her damn time!
Not that Quin wasn’t grateful for the small time this allowed her to be in the apartment alone and undisturbed, but it was only time she could sit and stew over the insufferable qualities of the person she was momentarily free of before she returned once again. A dull, throbbing migraine had recently developed just behind her eyes lately, intensifying whenever she had to confront Reah.
Just then, a small glimmer of movement caught her eye near the apartment block entrance and she twisted in her seat, pressing her cheek up against the cold glass to get a closer look. It was then that she noticed a small boy running out, and after another moment she clearly recognised it as Cole. Her heart soared. She barely had time to register the upset confusion that troubled his face before she was flying out of her bedroom as fast as she could and out the fire-escape into the alley.
The boy stumbled down the street, the intensity of Darian’s magic coursing through his veins. With blurry vision and wobbly legs, Cole drew a parallel to the feeling he presently had to those he’d had during his brief addiction to drugs – but this, this was a hundred times better. The world swirled and swivelled around him: the air was electric, dancing with unseen spirits visible only to his eyes, and the moon seemed to dance in the sky, uninhibited by the laws of nature. It was amazing. Caught up in the wave of ecstasy, he had already forgotten the image of Darian’s body curled into a helpless ball as it shuddered in agony.
Fumbling into the side of a building, Cole could hear a tiny voice calling to him from behind.
“Who… who…?” he turned clumsily, chuckling to himself as another surge of magic rushed his body. Cole’s eyes became momentarily lucid when he realized just who had been following him.
“Quin, you look so so beautiful tonight,” he laughed, falling back against the wall.
At first Quin didn’t know whether she was supposed to feel angry or ecstatic at the sight of him, but she couldn’t help the immediate red flushing of her features at the sound of his words. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from chuckling at his giddy happiness that seemed almost contagious.
“Where have you been?” she said, if somewhat not as sternly as she’d hoped. He was finally here! He - was - here!
A wide grin crossed his face, as he struggled to stand straight. “I’m sorry about leaving like that, but you know what it’s like having the ‘big brother’ types breathing down your neck.”
Reaching out, Cole started to play with the girl’s long, silky hair. The soft strands sent shocks of rapture through his finger tips; just touching them seemed magical. “And I’ve been so busy. Soon Quin, soon I’ll be able to…” The teen seemed to lose his balance slightly, and only managed to stay upright due to her aid. “I’ve thought about you so much since that night Quin, I wanted to come back to see you, but I needed to stay away.”
The boy started to giggle again, as he stared into her hypnotic brown eyes. “So beautiful...” he murmured again.
Quin held onto him, gently supporting his balance while he toyed longingly with her hair and she smiled back up into his eyes, though somewhat sadly. She hadn’t realised how much she’d really missed him till he was now finally here with her. And he was going again. She was going to be alone again.
“Oh, Cole.” She stepped in, hugging him close and burrowing her head against his chest to feel the warmth and comfort that had seemed so distant as a fading dream now. Shifting her head so that it now rested peering over his shoulder into the lonely streets behind him, Quin’s eyes narrowed. “You have no idea how horrible it’s been. The things that have happened…”
She sniffed softly, “Reah… She’s blamed nearly everything on me, taken everything out on me that’s happened, all because she can’t handle it. I hate her so much. She thinks…” Quin cut short and moved her head so her cheek was back to Cole’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. “I’d have run ages ago if I could, but she stopped me. If she even caught me just here… and with you… She’s mad, Cole.”
“Oh, I guess she found out about that eh?” he replied amusedly, but then coughed violently, drawing back as he clutched his chest. Sharp pains suddenly began to pass erratically over his body.
*Rsssniaaaa... boy… you havvvveeee freeeeed usssss.*
Breathing sharply, the boy tried to close his mind and block the voice that rattled in his head. *NO! you are my servant, and your power is MINE!* he thought back, pushing the entity deep into his being.
“Cole, what’s wrong?” Quin’s concerned voice rang into his ear, as the boy regained his composure.
“Nothing to worry about, I’m perfectly fine,” he said quickly in an attempt to convince himself as well as the girl. “And as for Reah, well I can help you there. You want to teach your cousin a lesson don’t you?” he asked softly, bringing his face closer to hers.
Quin nodded slowly, feeling the boy’s warm breath wash over her neck as he bent closer.
“Your wish is my command,” he smiled, before drawing her into a long passionate kiss. Quin reciprocated happily, roughly pushing Cole against the wall, as she ground her slender body against his. The two remained locked in passionate embrace until a slight tingly feeling in her mouth grew hot, and for a moment, almost uncomfortable.
“What..?” she began confusedly, drawing back to stare into his eyes, only to be even more shocked when she noticed they were almost black.
“Call it a temporary gift,” he replied coolly.
Quin’s look of confusion did not falter. “I don’t get it, what did you do?”
“That feeling of electricity flowing through you now, that’s borrowed magic. Use it as you like, but use it soon, because when the moon hits its highest tomorrow night-”
“I turn into a pumpkin?” she cut him off grinning cheekily.
The boy chuckled and placed gentle kisses along her alabaster neck. “No sweety, the magic comes back to its rightful owner.”
Quin’s skin prickled and shuddered with every touch of his lips, the magic overloading her normal senses. She didn’t want it to stop and mouthed his name wordlessly, eyes closed under the euphoria she was experiencing, willing him to stay, dreading the loss she would feel once he left.
Slowly his warmth that had surrounded and engulfed her so completely drew away, the sharp cold of the night air slapping her as hard as it ever had before in her life as she gazed longingly back into the stunning blue of Cole’s eyes as they gradually reformed out of their diluted black.
Cole smiled back warmly, leaning in with one last kiss placed tenderly on her upper jaw line before parting with a husky whisper in her ear, “See you soon…”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, May 3rd, 2007 - 07:46am
Reah gazed forlornly at her piece of toast, nearly black while it soggied up as the butter melted deliciously on top. The kitchen counter top was smooth, pristine white except for the slight spillage of honey dripping mesmerically off the knife’s edge. Not that she really cared or took the effort to stop it: it wasn’t even her kitchen bench, so why should she?
Just then a little girl came skipping into the room, spotted Reah over the edge of the bench when her head bobbed up from the other side and took one last excited leap to land before her screaming ‘no smoking’ just as she landed.
The two were instantly taken as though snapped to the other’s presence, ignoring anything else about them. The small girl’s efforts were more focused while Reah’s remained impassive and unshaken. The small girl suddenly jumped with a squeak, bursting into a fit of giggles before she managed to slap her hand over her mouth and run from the room leaving Reah alone with the two new arrivals. The youngest one - a girl Reah imagined not much older than her cousin Quin - peered curiously around the open corner where the little one had just vanished, smiling apologetically back at Reah before slinking off after her.
The other was Cameron, shaking his head with a contented smile as he moved across to the toaster, retrieving a piece of bread from the still opened bag that lay beside it from when Reah’d last used it.
“Sorry about that,” he said, spinning the bag around and tying a firm knot in its end. “Sleep well last night?”
Reah nodded soberly, hands beneath the bench snug between the warmth of her thighs as she watched the older girl disappear after her daughter with a sorrowful smile.
“You shouldn’t have taught Aaralyn that game. I can tell you’re going to live to regret it.” He then added with a thoughtful pause, “I think we all will.”
“It’s my secret mission,” Reah spoke half-heartedly. “To annoy you till the end of your days. I’ve just planted the seed.”
Cameron sniffed then gazed across at Reah’s untouched piece of burnt toast. “You going to eat that, or just stare at it all morning?”
“Thought I’d wait until it grew fur then call lil’ Arry in to name it,” she said.
“Fair enough.” Cameron smiled warmly back and paused a moment before asking, “How’s your head? You drank a fair bit of red the last night you had dinner here - I wouldn‘t be surprised if you were still suffering the repercussions two days afterwards. It was becoming a bit hard to distinguish who the four year old was between you and Aaralyn.”
“I‘m fine,” Reah yawned, half raising a hand to cover her mouth. When she’d recovered, she reached out with her freed hand across the bench to the still-dripping knife and grabbed the jar of honey.
“Sorry I didn’t have any spare beds here or anything. When Nick moved in she kind of took the only spare room I had. And that was some time ago now, heh. Your showing up last night was a little unexpected. At midnight.” Cam flashed a warming smile at her which only returned a half hearted one back from herself.
Sinking her teeth into the long awaiting piece of toast with a subdued crunch, Reah rocked her head to its side, leaning on her hand that proffered up on the table.
***Flashback***
Saturday, April 21st, 2007 - 13:20
“What do you MEAN system fucking shut down in one minute! You fucking piece of crap!” Reah mashed the keyboard with her fist, smashing both it and the sliding drawer it sat upon to a hundred shards. “FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!”
Sweeping the mechanical mess from her sight she shot up to her feet, pacing backwards while running hands through her hair. An afternoon of coming in and fixing up a few items to try and soothe her nerves after the previous day’s events was failing miserably.
She really hated this world. Everything and everyone in it just gnawed at her very being. As if she wasn’t doing a fine enough job of screwing up her own life, everyone suddenly found it a prize opportunity to see how far she could be pushed by screwing her over themselves.
Everything just seemed so… futile! She didn’t belong here. She’d long been an outcast ever since she first returned from 2063.
That was where she belonged.
Staring reminiscently back at the keyboard wreckage, Reah gradually came back down to Earth. The raging fire rekindling behind her synthetic eyes and she punched right through her mahogany desk, adding the computer display to her wreckage list as it crashed ceremoniously to the ground.
GOD how she hated this place!
“Redecorating?”
Reah sighed exasperatedly as she kept her back to the door and its new occupant. “What do you want?”
Cameron stepped slowly into the office, studying the door’s architrave as he passed the threshold. “Can’t an old friend drop by to say hi?”
“Yes, they can.” Reah turned to face him, arms crossed firmly beneath her breasts. “Now answer the question.”
“Don’t threaten me.”
“Stop crashing in on my life and I’ll consider it.”
Cameron shrugged his shoulders and took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t want to start another war here, ok?”
Reah threw up her hands. “Then stay out of my way! Is that really so hard!?”
“Why do you keep doing that?” he shot back, tightly fixing her with narrowly drawn eyes as he stepped forward.
“You haven’t answered my question! Piss off!”
“I was dropping by to check the new place out,” Cameron swiftly replied with all the calm of an ocean, taking another step closer. “Now answer mine.”
“What’s there to fucking answer? I don’t have to answer shit! Get the fuck out!”
Cameron just coolly stopped three metres from her, tilting his head to study her and dropped his hands in his pockets. “What are you trying to hide? I know about you. You’ve tried killing me, yet I’m standing here vulnerable, knowing completely what you’re capable of. I’ve never once let slip to anyone about anything!” He shook his head slightly in confusion. “Are you afraid?”
“Oh my god! Could you please piss in the general direction of OFF!” Reah yelled in utter bewilderment and annoyance at his irritable persistence. “Do you think you’re special because you know about these!” Her blades shot out. “Join the fucking club! Who doesn’t know!” She paced back behind her desk, scrunching her eyes up in frustration. “Why can’t you just leave me alone! That you were dropping by to check out the new place is the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard! WHYYY are you here? PISS OFF!” she screamed.
Cameron merely frowned, leaving her time for the air to cool down before he calmly said, “I’m here for reasons I stated and I’m not going to ‘piss off’ because you need me.”
“HA!” Reah scoffed absurdly. “I need you? To what? Make me laugh!”
“That is a part of what friends do.”
The muscles in Reah’s face slacked bluntly at his words, preparing for another outburst. “You think I need you as a friend.” It wasn’t a question. “You think I need you as a friend! Hate to break it to you mate, but me; I have social skills! Thus I have friends, and thus I don’t need squat from you.”
“Fair enough,” he said simply, no sign of his temper flaring in the slightest. “So why don’t you lean on them?”
*Fuuuccckkeeeennn…* Reah’s blood bubbled as her control tread the fine edge of a blade, flirting with the fiery pit below. Her white knuckled fists shook firmly by her side. “What are you implying, Officer Laiko? And be careful; I might just snap your neck!”
“Snap my neck, it’ll only kill me, which ultimately won’t matter to me in the end. But,” he held up a finger, “you might want to consider my family and the law enforcements who may be less inclined to accept my death so flippantly.”
“In other words what you’re saying is,” Reah growled through gritted teeth, “you’ve been stalking me again and are somehow deluded into believing you’re an expert on my life with the right to advise my decisions whilst having just enough influence to get away with it. Don’t get so comfortable in your assessment, officer. I’ve killed the likes of you before, and I can kill the likes of you again.”
Cameron drew himself up, puffing his chest to steady himself before capturing Reah’s eyes, addressing her in a mildly warning tone. “I’d be careful yourself about making such statements so openly. You never know who might be listening in this day and age.”
Reah’s face contorted in a mask of disdain and cynical smugness at just how little he knew. “I always know. I’m beyond this day and age, remember? Or was your face too blue when I mentioned that? I can have a very forgetful mind at times.”
Cam’s thumb subconsciously dug itself into his forefinger as he persisted in keeping his features composed. He didn’t want to let Reah feel she was winning any war that always seemed to arise between the both of them at any and every meeting they’d ever had. Instead…
“I know about your cousin, Quin,” he said in a controlled voice.
Reah frowned at the sudden change. “Know what about my cousin?”
“I’m not supposed to be talking to you about this…” he said, Reah giving him an impatiently curious look. “I promised her I wouldn’t say anything. She said you’d…” Cameron gave Reah a funny look then shook his head before continuing, “It’s confidential, but I thought you should know.”
“Know what?” she snapped.
Cameron took a moment before finally opening his mouth for a deep breath before the plunge. “The attempted rape on her by one of her teachers.”
“The attempt of one of her what who tried to do what?” Reah’s eyes bulged.
“I was part of the team investigating what happened.” He nodded understanding at Reah’s slowly shaking head. “It’s disgusting, I know. Words can’t describe what I wanted to do to the bastard. Christ, if anything like that ever happened to Nick, I’d…” Cameron eventually shut his mouth that had been left hanging on that last thought, shaking his own head. “Don’t go doing anything stupid.”
“What’s the prick’s name so I can go kill the fucker?” Reah said, teeth gritted and face set with sheer determination.
“Precisely why I’m not saying,” he answered bluntly, to which he received a deathly cold stare in return.
“Then I guess I’ll just have to ‘off’ them all!”
…
Cam blinked then swallowed a rising lump. “Y-you wouldn’t do that,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Well… no, not all of them,” Reah’s voice dropped barely above a whisper. “I’m sure the first one would be smart enough to tell me, and if not, the second definitely will after I show them the first.”
Another heavy silence.
“Um…” Cam started. “Please don’t. My ass, see?”
Reah grumbled off into her own little world while Cameron cleared his throat again and tried picking up where he’d left off. “… Um, yeah. The main thing I was wanting to tell you about all this is… sure, she was distraught - that much is understandable - but it was… odd.” He frowned, ignoring Reah’s determined glare. “I’ve known Quin long enough to know that she’s genuinely the more quiet type. Who I saw the other night was… it just didn’t seem like her. And especially with her claims of your… beatings.”
That caught Reah’s attention, eyes popping. “Despite you nearly killing me, I know your not the type to beat on someone as defenceless as your own cousin. Though I can imagine it must be difficult with everything that’s been happening lately…” His look changed, closely studying Reah’s reaction. “But I had to wonder…”
“No!” Reah said firmly. “I. Do. Not. Beat. My. Cousin!”
“Didn’t say you were!” Cam was quick to reply, hands flying up in front to protect himself. Thankfully, when he opened an eye, Reah was still standing on the same one spot, fuming. He could almost imagine her with that cartoon smoke steaming off her head. But then her anger suddenly seemed to melt away, her face dropping.
“Quin…” Reah’s eyes slid quickly off Cam to the small splinters of wood still littering her office floor. “She tells people I beat her?”
He noted the hint of sadness that carried in her voice and felt his heart go out to her. It wasn’t often that he’d seen the woman like this - in fact, he’d dare say he never had! Of all the things he knew about Reah, showing emotion wasn’t one of them. He shook his head sadly at the fact that she probably figured it to be a sign of weakness.
“She really hates me…”
“Reanna,” Cam broke out, stepping forward with an outstretched hand before he stopped himself short. Her face was so scrunched up with confusion. “Reah, I’m sure she doesn’t hate you-”
“Sure! I train her and on the odd occasion she might take a small blow,” Reah muttered quietly to herself; assuring herself. “But they were never hard blows! Never! I’ve been fighting and training long enough to have control of myself. I only want to make sure she can protect herself!”
Cameron frowned. “Reah, I’m sure it’s OK.”
Reah continued to shake her head slowly, not really aware of Cam’s presence any more. “Why?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
May 4th,
10:15 am
Longwood Inc. offices, LA
Ellis paced his office, checking his watch. Alessa was late, and not for the first time. She had been coming to see him before work, but she wasn’t at the Armoury either. Since she had seen that Watcher she had been acting differently, but then her results had proven positive too. Some kind of ‘differentness’ would be expected. Anyway, it had its benefits, he thought, remembering their passionate lovemaking. Yet Alessa didn’t give him more than her body, delightful as it was, and that was becoming increasingly insufficient. He wanted more.
Ellis stopped his pacing in front of the huge windows, looking at the street below. He wondered again what was she hiding; she had showed him the papers and pictures Montrose had given her, but he was sure she was keeping things to herself. He had investigated Montrose and the man was just what he pledged to be. Yet his information didn’t quite fit. The demon sport fights stuff was strange, but the papers seemed sound and the pictures weren’t fakes, not even Alessa’s. But then, they had already known she had been on that damn island. He still didn’t buy the renegades thing, but it wasn’t so illogical either. There were misfits in every organization, but it was strange that information like that had been kept sitting in a file, especially since Ambrose Delancre had been promoted to First Elder.
He was well acquainted with Ambrose Delancre, First Elder of the Watcher’s Council, Earl of Romney, Vicomte du Morbihan. Ellis chuckled, remembering the way the petulant man used to introduce himself. Ernie’s disinterest in all nobility matters had been strongly imprinted in his son, but it was Ellis’ heirdom anyway. In fact, if a sudden catastrophe should happen and his older cousin, Maurice, his two siblings and four children were to die, he would become a Marquess himself; fortunately something like that was very unlikely to happen.
His cousin , the fifth Marquess of Aberdale, was an uptight English aristocrat too; and he was friends, if you could call that a friendship, with the First Elder, the 'Earl'. So Ellis had come across the man, they shared the same circle in English society, usually attending the same parties or events. Ellis had never liked him though, considering him a cold fish, ambitious and ruthless, with an overbearing pride in himself and his title and an unwavering idea of his station and purpose in life. When he had attended Eton, stories of Ambrose Delancre’s cruelty to servants, younger students, usually of commoner background, and the occasional teacher had been still circulating, even though the man had graduated years earlier from the exclusive school.
It was strange that ‘that’ man could have renegades in his ranks. The Delancre he knew wouldn’t have overlooked something like that.
Ellis looked at his watch again, Alessa was now more than two hours late. He had to assume she wasn’t coming. Anger started to grow in him, she must be doing some research on her own, or plotting some stupidity, most surely. He wondered again what was she hiding; among other changes, she had become more and more difficult to read, her feelings had become more guarded and that could only be purposeful. She was keeping him out and that infuriated him.
Hell!! She kept defying him too, keeping that mass murderer in her employ, housing the little shit of Cole and that Kaoshian. How many more strays would she take home? Well, he was taking his own steps to solve those problems; they wouldn’t know what had hit them.
A soft jingling sound startled him and he turned from the window to see Alessa walking inside the room. The sound was coming from a silver chain with small bells around her slim ankle, worn in the Indian fashion. The demoness grinned and his frown deepened. She had no right to look so arresting.
"What?" she asked, noticing the frown and his continued silence.
"You are late," he said, but his eyes showed more than anger as he assessed her aspect. The peasant style summer dress she was wearing featured a long skirt and a demure neck that nevertheless invited the imagination, and the delicate flowered pattern over a light undertone highlighted her bronze skin. She had changed her style of dress a lot, enhancing her good points in a feminine but subtle way, but again, he couldn’t complain about it.
Alessa stood silent under his scrutiny, her full lips pursed. She knew she was late, but she wasn’t about to apologize. She had woken up at dawn actually, still in Stuart’s arms, and had left the hotel room without waking him and returned home to have a well-needed sleep. She suppressed a smile at the memories of last night. The gentlemanly Watcher had proven to her that gentlemanly in bed wasn’t a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. But now, Ellis’ frown and the angry fire in his blue eyes was making her all queasy inside again. Her body was still tuned to sex; it wouldn’t be such a bad idea, would it? Annoyance at his possessive tone and a growing arousal at the fire in his eyes battled inside her.
"So what?" she finally said, sending her hair backwards with a studied movement of her head. She was wearing it longer today, almost to the waist, and darker, a blue black tone, and she had tied it in a loose plait down her back, adding to the peasant style of the dress.
The plait flew backwards like a thick rope of hair and Ellis cursed. She laughed triumphantly when he got to her in two long strides and took her briskly in his arms; this was a dangerous game she was playing, but it only increased her pleasure.
Leaning on the desk, with the demoness still enclosed in his arms, Ellis reached backwards and pressed the intercom button to talk to his secretary.
"Don’t pass me new messages, and delay my appointments for the rest of the morning. I'll be busy," he said, briskly, without unlocking their gazes.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
May 5th 2007
1:15 am
The Big house
In a blast of light and electricity, the small frame of a young boy appeared outside the front door of Alessa’s estate.
Cole reeled for a moment, the dizzying effects of such a powerful spell taking their toll on his body. Despite the vertigo, the boy couldn’t help but smile; not only had he taken on a group of demons, a few mages, and a pissed off Slayer, he’d managed to survive and cast a not so simple teleportation spell.
* * *
2:20 am
Cole had finally managed to command his legs forwards, and had made it halfway up the stairs before the racket he made woke the mistress of the house.
Alessa emerged from her room, draped in a not-so-conservative robe. “Who’s there?” she called just before making it to the top of the stairs to see Cole sitting on one of the middle steps. “Cole, are you ok?” Tightening the clothes around her, she quickly made her way down to the boy’s level. “What’s wrong?”
Laughter tumbled from Cole’s lips as he looked back at his friend. The amusement only richened after Alessa saw the blackness of the boy’s eyes, and drew back in fear.
“Oh God Cole, what’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me? Oh Alessa, don’t you see it? Soon I’ll be able to make things right for us again.”
Only for a second, Mariah’s presence took over, turning his speech infantile and sweet. “That’s right woman, things will be better from here on in.”
While inside Cole’s body, the essences of Evexus, Mariah and Erin battled for influence, and it was a battle the Goddess planned to win. The boy was just so strong for his age, much like she had been before Atlantis’ collapse, and within him, Mariah saw a way back to the mortal plane.
“Shut up you bitch!” the mage said aloud.
Alessa’s jaw dropped, as she gazed on with horror.
“Yessss ignore ttttthhheee Falssssee Chillld, We sssshalll bring youuu powerrrrr.”
Grabbing onto his shoulder, the demoness shook lightly. “Cole, what’s happening?” Alessa cried out aghast, unsure what to make of the strange voices coming from the teen’s mouth.
The boy coiled back from her grasp, almost as if disgusted by her touch. “It’s not important,” he replied quickly, trying to avoid the anecdote of how he came upon the power. “Now, I’m going to bed.” The next day was the coup de grace, and he sure as hell didn’t need to deal with this drama tonight.
Alessa saw things differently.
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” Alessa retorted, her tone growing from worried to angry. Reaching out to halt the boy, she winced as her fingers crackled against some invisible barrier.
“I told you I was going to bed!” Cole cried back, annoyed that the woman had tried to stop him.
“You used magic on me in my house!” she screamed furiously.
*Kill her, she is trying to stop you.*
*No, Alessa can help you. Tell her what’s happening, Cole, please.*
*The chiilllldd is right, killlll the girllll.*
“Shut UP!” he screamed to the three voices dancing in his mind; however, unable to see them, Alessa only imagined he had addressed her.
“How dare you speak to me this way?” she hissed, her patience wearing very thin.
Cole turned his back on her, as he began to ascend the stairs. “Won’t you all just leave me alone?!”
That was it, the final straw. As much as she had come to love the boy, Alessa would not put up with this attitude, not under her roof. “Leave.”
The boy paused, and spun around, a look of confusion across his face. “What?”
“I said, leave.” Although she didn’t have as much conviction as the first time, she held her ground.
A scowl crossed the boy’s face as he momentarily considered stealing all of her power, but decided against it. He still loved Alessa deep down, and besides, she wasn’t that strong.
“You know what?” he fumed, running back down the stairs and bumping her as he passed, “You and ever other person in this god forsaken city can go fuck themselves.”
As he stomped towards the door, regret crept into the woman’s heart. If he was in trouble, which he no doubt was, kicking him out might only put him in more danger.
“Cole, wait!” she cried, moving to follow him, but by that time it was too late. Cole had vanished into thin air, leaving the woman alone with her thoughts.
*Oh Cole, what are you doing?*
Cole's Final Battle - Part One
***Saturday, 5 May 2007 – 8:45pm – Kate and Galen’s House***
The front door of the Eldridge household slammed open noisily as the young boy walked up the entranceway and strode purposefully inside. This was the final piece of the puzzle; once he was done here, it would all be over. All his planning and scheming, all the risks, the danger, they were finally going to pay off.
“What the hell is this about?!” a gruff voice called from the top of the stairs. With a crescendo of thumps, one of the men Cole recognised from Emma’s funeral stormed into the room, an angry scowl plastered on his face.
“The father,” the boy whispered to himself, totally unfazed by the man’s presence.
“You can’t just come barging in here, who the hell do you-”
“Shhh,” Cole hushed, as Jack’s body slumped to the ground, asleep. With the mix of powers he now possessed, it was little more than child’s play to deal with these gnats.
From the living room Galen heard the commotion in the hallway and leapt to his feet. He carefully pushed open the door a crack to see the young mage, Cole Matthews, standing over the unconscious body of his father-in-law. *What the fu-?* he thought curiously. He knew Cole was a proficient witch, and if what Kate had told him recently was any indication he was out of control. Galen’s hand instinctively flew to his left side for his gun but it was upstairs on the nightstand. *Fuck, fuck!*
He moved silently to the fireplace and picked up the solid iron poker. He didn’t want to hurt the boy but he would if it was the only way to protect his home. The metal clanked a little and Galen cringed, his eyes fixed on the doorway as he moved back over to it and stood to one side, waiting for the boy to emerge.
“Tut tut,” the boy said from the other room, causing a shiver to run down Galen’s spine. There was something odd about Cole’s voice; it was hollow dark, and seemed to carry with it an echo of various other entities.
“I’m afraid I have business with your wife Mr. Eldridge, and I have no time to waste with you.”
Galen yelped. The iron poker he was holding a second before began to slither and squirm as its cold metal altered into the dry scales of a large serpent. By the time his brain registered to drop it, it was too late. The large constrictor twisted its way around his body and began to squeeze relentlessly.
“Don’t worry,” Cole said calmly as he stepped into the room, smiling as the man strained fruitlessly against the snake. “I promise to try and let Kate live through the ritual.”
“You… bastard…” choked Galen, struggling to free himself against the snake’s grip but it was useless, the snake was made from magic and didn’t abide by the normal rules of nature. “You… harm… her…” he choked again, “and I’ll come after you… there won’t be any place you can hide…”
“Well I wouldn’t recommend trying to take me on, but if, when this is over, you are still upset, you’re welcome to try.”
Using the same simple spell he had on Jack, Cole waved his hand and sent Galen tumbling into a deep peaceful sleep.
“Goddamn shysters,” mumbled Kate as she pulled her car onto the driveway, parking up and getting out. She removed several brown paper bags of spell components, crystals and specialist herbs, all the things that she would need to make a potion that would – hopefully, counteract the effects of the virus. “$40 for Wolfsbane? This city is going to hell.”
As she walked up the porch to the front door she suddenly stopped. The door was wide open, hanging back on its hinges and there was a distinctly malevolent force that seemed to linger around the house. Kate dropped her bags and stepped warily inside.
“Oh god, Jack!” she breathed quietly as she saw her father lying at the foot of the stairs in the hallway. She moved over to his motionless body, kneeling at his side as she checked his pulse. She breathed a sigh of relief as she realised that he was merely asleep, but that didn’t quell the unease she felt. There was still something evil in the house and it felt even stronger now; it was close. Quietly she rose to her feet and, following her senses, walked into the living room.
Cole stood silently over the still form of her husband, his entire person shrouded in dark, black energies. Kate froze in the doorway, observing the boy. It had been five days since she’d last seen him, at the ritual to raise Emma from the dead, but he was much altered - in fact he was fairly pulsating with unrestrained, malignant magics. She remembered how she’d seen Darian, weak and drained, barely able to speak from the suffering this boy had inflicted on him, and now it seemed it was her turn.
“Hello Kate,” he said in the same horrible echoed voice. “I was hoping you wouldn’t take too long getting home… you know, the impatience of youth and all.”
He moved forward slowly, enjoying the sense of fear and uncertainty that emanated from the young woman. “You can sense it can't you? What I am, what I’ve become.”
Dark blue lightning spidered over his body every few seconds; excess magic seeping out of his very pores. “But I’m not complete, I still lack, lack so, so, so much.” His words were slow and disjointed, as if his mouth was trying to voice for a multitude of people. “You will be the key Kate, you will make it all come together.”
“You’re ill, Cole,” said Kate tentatively, eyeing the boy with caution. The sheer raw power that he wielded was stronger than anything she had ever felt before, it was electric. Kate spared an anxious glance at her unconscious husband on the floor; at least she hoped he was, she didn’t sense the loss of his presence at any rate. She slowly returned her focus to Cole. “You have a virus but, but we’re working on a cure, I can help you if you let me.”
“Are you talking of that little toy? Oh I am far beyond the reach and influence of the sickness. No, my dear little witch, I am acting on my own accord.” Cole began to walk forward, his hands beginning to glow a sickening yellowish colour. The light began to cascade over his form, lifting him inches off the hardwood floors. “With your powers I’ll be a god on Earth, and nothing will stand in my way.”
Kate watched in amazement as Cole floated above the floor. He was obviously far beyond her reach, so much so that there seemed little point in trying to reason with him. He had sought her out for one purpose only, to strip her of her powers at any cost, just as he’d done to Darian and god only knew whom else. If what he said about the virus having no effect on him was true then the dark magics he had invoked must have corrupted his will.
“This isn’t you, Cole,” Kate insisted, backing away slowly. Though she realised he wouldn’t listen to her she had to try, even if it was only to buy time until she could come up with a plan to stop him. “The Cole I knew wouldn’t abuse magic this way, using it for his own selfish ends. Is this what Chance would have wanted?”
Cole’s face turned stone cold, as he gazed down at the woman before him. “What would Chance say?” he repeated as if trying to grasp the words. “Don’t you see, this is for Chance...”
Cole’s head tilted abruptly sideways as his eyes flashed purple momentarily. “Theeee templarrrrr,” he hissed his voice, turning reptilian.
Kate watched on with shock, as Cole seemed to struggle against an invisible foe, finally regaining his composure. Through deep breaths, the boy’s face seemed to soften briefly. “Of all people Kate, you, you would most understand why I had to do this.”
The air seemed heavy with cabbalistic energies, wrapping themselves tightly around Cole’s form. The boy was so filled with anger and rage but Kate could also feel his pain, it was as alive and potent as her own had been, still was if she was honest. He was doing this for Chance, he was going to make himself a god for Chance.
Gently Kate opened her channels of power, letting herself covertly tap into the surrounding energies. Cole needed help and she wanted to help him. He was still grieving for the death of his friend, a man who had been like family to the poor teen.
“You’re right, I do. I do understand, Cole. I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. It hurts so much, the pain seems unbearable. All you want is for it to go so you can carry on, but at the same time it’s all you have left and you want to hold on to it so that you can never forget. But that also stops you from healing, remember, I know what you’re feeling. I know what it’s like to be so consumed with anger that you can’t see how much hurt you’re causing the people who are still around, who still care. Don’t be like I was, Cole. You don’t have to let your pain control you.”
“You’re missing the whole point of this Kate,” he replied, the energies surrounding him beginning to hurtle outwards, smashing various furniture around the room. “Once I have your energy, I won’t need to grieve over his memory, because...”
Cole’s voice once again altered, this time turning feminine and childlike, a voice Kate knew all too well. “Stop your blabbing child, Mother is growing bored,” the words came from Cole’s mouth, but his lips did not even move.
Cole’s body convulsed forwards, shaking erratically. “No Mariah, leave the boy be!” another woman’s voice commanded.
“WOULD YOU TWO BITCHES SHUT UP!” Cole screamed aloud, falling to the floor as he briefly lost control of the energies coursing within him.
Kate watched in horror as Cole landed hard on the floor and she hesitated between going to help him and maintaining her ground. *Don’t be stupid, Kate,* she berated herself. *You don’t know what he’s capable of, neither does he from the looks of it.*
“I know what you’ve been doing, Cole,” she said with an air of wary authority, “I saw what you did to Darian, you left him for dead… just how other many people have you drained of their powers so far?”
As Cole groaned, dragging himself to his feet, Kate continued, watching him with caution. “You can’t handle it, it’s too much for you. It’s taking over, you have to let me help you before it’s too late.”
“No, no, no, no, no, no I... I am master here,” he said through clenched teeth. There was a moment of silence between them, and Kate stared at Cole’s body as it strained to suppress the multitude of minds trying to take over.
Finally, several seconds later, his muscles relaxed as he once again assumed the driver’s position. “It’s not too late, no, not any more. I’m going to make things right, I’m going to do what none of you weakling White Hats could. I’m going to open a portal and bring him back!”
“And send us all to hell too? I can’t let you do that,” said Kate firmly, still drawing on the powers that filled the room, twisting and bending them to serve her own command.
Where the yellow energy had been a second before, black magic began to storm around him like a maelstrom of wild energy. “I was hoping it wasn’t going to have to be like this, but I guess you leave me no choice.” His baby blue eyes grew black and empty as his body filled with dark magic. “Ok Kate, let’s get ready to rumble.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Saturday, 5 May 2007 – 9:14pm – Kate and Galen’s House***
“Ooof!” moaned Kate as she landed hard, crashing into a solid mahogany dresser. The glass shattered above her from the force of her collision and Kate had to quickly roll out of the way to avoid being cut to ribbons. She wiped a trickle of blood from her lower lip as she caught her breath. “Goddamn it,” she swore quietly to herself. Cole was completely out of control and his powers insanely potent.
From above her Kate could hear the boy’s low, maniacal laughter. She closed her eyes momentarily and concentrated. If she could manage to delay Cole long enough for her to keep drawing in the surrounding energies then she might have a chance.
“I call upon the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the East,
Lords of Air and Intuition, I do summon and invoke thee to my side…”
“Call your silly Watchtowers Kate, because no mater what deities you invoke, you don’t have a hope in hell!”
Raising his hand to staff length, he pointed his index finger towards the scrambling wicca. Dark purple fire sprung to life starting at his elbow, and crackled forwards as if his arm was an overgrown flame-thrower.
Beads of sweat dripped off her face, but Kate’s defences held strong, preventing Cole’s spell from baking her to a crisp.
“You may as well accept your fate now, you can’t prevent the inevitable. I’m practically a god, and I will have what I came for!”
Kate kept her arms raised, fending off Cole’s attack as best she could. But he was so strong, it was taking all her energy to keep the protective circle she had raised around her intact. The heat from the fire seemed to grow steadily hotter as it penetrated the circle. Realising she probably only had a few minutes before he made his way through, Kate made a lunge to the left. Seconds later the spot where she had been sat burst into purple flame.
“You can’t evade me forever,” cackled Cole as he followed her movement, firing a ball of energy after her.
Kate managed to dodge the sphere of glowing energy by a hair’s breadth, the heat from the projectile singeing her skin. Regaining her balance, Kate shot out bolt of light at Cole. The boy laughed as he caught it in his hand, letting the energies dribble through his fingers like melted ice cream.
“To be honest,” Cole said, as he confidently walked forwards, stalking his prey like a large jungle cat, “I expected this to be a little more difficult, but the great and powerful Kate Wiccham can’t even conjure more than a weak ball of light; very disappointing.”
Cole suddenly stopped his advancement and bent down, so he could rest both his palms on the hard wood floor. “I, on the other hand, can do a lot worse.”
“Denizens of below,
Spirits from beneath,
Children of nightmares,
Come to my side.
Bring with you the stench of death;
Feast on the flesh of my enemy.”
From the cracks of the floor, what seemed like an endless stream of spiders, ants, roaches, and several other more disgusting and nameless creepy-critters sprang outwards and crawled towards Kate.
Kate closed her eyes even as she felt the creatures all crawl over her skin, spiders scuttling up her legs and around her arms and fingers. It was just an illusion, she told herself, blanking out the terrifying sensations of her skin crawling with insects. *It’s just an illusion, it’s not real, not real,* she convinced herself.
“Cingi Aversabilis Malus,” she mumbled under her breath. ”Resolvo Veneficus!”
When Kate opened her eyes the creatures had all vanished apart from Cole, whose face looked as black as thunder.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said steadily, before making a quick gesture with her hands. Suddenly a powerful gale burst in through the windows, doors slamming open and allowing the maelstrom full force. Kate held the strong winds in her control, letting them lift Cole high from the floor.
Kate stood below him, taking the moment to resume her concentration again; Cole was emitting so much power and energy that it was just a matter of siphoning it off into her own channels. Cole’s magic came from such a dark place and she needed to counteract that by calling on white magics to nullify his power. But that took time and she was rapidly running out of that commodity.
“I call upon the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the South,” she chanted quickly and quietly. “Lords of Fire and Feeling, I do summon and invoke thee to my side…”
“You… stupid…” Cole hissed, concentrating on the energy around him. The windstorm was extremely powerful, but he could overcome it.
“Rssstiaaa Laaaluthiaaa…”
The air around him grew still, allowing him to fall gently to the ground. A wide smirk of arrogance appeared on his lips. “Don’t you realise I control the powers of a fae? The elements are like my play things, to do what I wish with them!”
For a second, Kate could swear that she saw Cole’s skin grow a deep indigo colour, and his features turn pointed and refined as he began to call forth his next spell. Shards of ice exploded from his hand and crystallised around Kate’s defences. At first she welcomed the change from the attacks of fire and lightning, but when she soon realised that frost began to cover her hair and eyebrows, she quickly withdrew the feeling.
“After you freeze, I’ll drain you of your power,” Cole screeched, as his shirt tore away in a current of magic, exposing the glowing red runes etched on his stomach. “And once I have your magic, I’ll be able to open the gateways and bring Chance back here, back where he belongs!”
Kate shivered as her body became colder, her skin turning a steady hue of blue and becoming white with frost. “I c-call u-upon the Guardians of the Watchtowers of th-the West,” she stammered uncontrollably as the chill reached her lips. “Lords of Water, Death and Initiation, I do summon and invoke thee to my side…”
The final words stuck in Kate’s throat as she felt herself being pulled into a frozen slumber. “N-no…” she protested weakly, “Glacies Imber Venificum Converso!” Kate continued to shiver as slowly the ice began to melt from her skin until she could move again.
Before Cole could attack again, Kate raised her hand at him, tapping into the powers that she had been quietly siphoning off from him to hold him in place with tightly wound strands of telekinetic energies.
“I said I didn’t want to hurt you Cole,” she repeated firmly, “but I will if I have to.” Her expression softened slightly, “I won’t let you make a terrible mistake. I know you’re hurting, I know that feeling more than anyone, and I can understand how you want to bring Chance back, but he’s gone. He sacrificed himself to save all of us, to save the world. I know it feels wrong, but that was his decision and it’s not for you to take back that sacrifice.”
“There was no choice in the matter, he had to go through the portal, or else the world would have been destroyed!” Cole spat, as he struggled against the spell that held him. The energy rippled around him, as the bonds began to weaken and stretch.
“He left to save us all, and not a damn one of you even tried to lift a finger to get him back, not until now!”
With an audible snapping sound, the telekinetic hold was broken, freeing the boy from its grip. Raising his hand as if carrying a large sword, he brought it arcing downwards in a large sweeping motion. Kate cried out in pain when the skin on her right shoulder slit open, as the invisible blade drew forth a line of crimson life.
“It was never my goal to hurt any of you, just an unfortunate necessity.”
Kate clutched her wounded shoulder tightly, blood pouring through her fingers and down her arm. She winced sharply, holding herself against the searing pain he’d inflicted on her.
“Opening that gateway will bring Hell on Earth, Cole. You’ll kill us all,” she said through gritted teeth as she staggered backwards from the mage until her shoulders hit the far wall. Kate rested against it. Her breathing was already heavy and ragged as she fought against the pain.
“Coiling serpents hold my prey,
In your grip shall she stay.”
Kate jerked upright as spectral snakes wrapped around her legs and arms, keeping her firmly in place.
“First of all Kate, there is no telling which dimension the gateway will open up to. The spell will be set to locate Chance, no matter where he turns out to be. And if that place so happens to be a hell dimension, well then I assure you, I will be powerful enough to deal with whatever monsters try to follow me back.”
The black of his eyes turned blood red as he staggered back. “Now, now can’t you see she is stalling, foolish boy?” Mariah’s voice called out in desperation.
Cole’s body began to shake and his arms flew up to his temples in agony. For a moment it almost seemed like his head would explode, but the Goddess’ presence faded as quickly as it appeared. “Maybe the old bat has a point, this is getting a little tedious. Thanks for the work out, but time is up.”
Closing his eyes, the boy let the blazing light of his runes wash over him and slowly stretch out to Kate, ready to steal her energy like he did to those before her.
Kate stared at the glowing runes in realisation, remembering what Darian had told her. They were the key to Cole’s power, without them he would have nothing to hold it in place. She quickly closed her eyes and focused for the last time, chanting quickly.
“I call upon the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the North,
Lords of Mother and of Earth, thou Guardians of Northern portals,
Powerful God, Merciful Goddess,
I do summon and invoke thee; I invoke thee all four Guardians and the power of the Eternal.
I invoke thee NOW!”
Kate’s breathing suddenly quickened as a cool breeze whirled around the room, the ground shook slightly too as though a small earthquake had taken hold of the house. Cole glared daggers at Kate as he reached out towards her.
Kate felt her own body tremble a little as she took in the powers that surrounded her. She thought of everything that she loved in the world, of the joy she had felt holding her baby that first time, of looking into Galen’s eyes on their wedding day and knowing that he loved no one else but her, of her reunion with her father… She held those thoughts steadfastly in her heart and as the magics overtook her she led them into that place full of light and hope and love.
“STOP!” she said suddenly, opening her eyes to reveal complete, glowing white light. The illusion of the snakes shrivelled into black smoke upon her command, dissipating in the air like fine ashes. She shook her head gently, her silky red curls bouncing from side to side, as she moved towards the boy.
“Oh Cole…” Kate said softly, her voice filled with haunting power, “I warned you. I said this was wrong, you took what wasn’t yours and now it’s time to give it back.” She reached out and trailed a finger against Cole’s chin before grabbing hold of him and throwing him across the room with superhuman strength.
Rising to his feet in a flash of light, the boy’s hollow black orbs locked unto the witch with icy hatred. Sure, she may have gone and injected herself with a nice dose of Goddess juice, but he was still far from powerless.
“If I won’t be able to take your power, well then I’ll just settle for killing you, and getting it somewhere else!”
The area around the boy began to darken as he stretched out his magic to the darkest of places.
“Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
From Earth and soil did you come,
From Earth and soil shall you return.”
The accursed energy washed over Kate, trying to snuff out the life force from her body. Her fingers twitched as her skin started to grow old and withered, soon to decay into nothingness.
”Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust…”
The black mould slowly crept up her arms, trying to spread outwards, but the power in Kate was too strong, and in one glorious explosion of light the malevolent spell was broken, returning her skin to its beautiful shinning colour.
“Wha… what? No,” Cole whispered in utter shock, as his power dissipated into the abyss.
With a simple gesture, Kate lifted her hand and reached out to the boy’s chest. “Yes Cole, it is over.”
A ghostlike hand materialised in front of Cole and flew straight into the flaming runes on his chest.
“NO, NO, YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” he shrieked, as he felt the runes slowly being torn from his body. Fruitlessly, he attempted to summon up a variety of horrible curses, but they were useless, each burning up in Kate’s wondrous light before they could take effect.
“Stop it! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! Stop…”
The screams of anger grew frantic with each passing second but slowly rage gave way to sadness. Cole stumbled forward, clawing at the air, as if trying to physically hold onto the sigils that were now almost completely removed from his skin. “Please Kate, I need this, I have no one else.”
The black of his eyes began to fade slowly. The natural white and blue returned, glistening with the tears that were beginning to accumulate. “You, you still had Galen, and Jack, when Emma left… Me, I have no one,” he pleaded, falling to his knees pathetically. “I’m just so… so lonely… I have no family. Darian and Alessa both hate me now, he... I need him back Kate, please… don’t… take… him… away... from… me.”
“I’m sorry, Cole,” whispered Kate, her voice still melodious and full of heavenly music while she continued to remove the runes from the boy’s chest. She swept her free hand through his dusty blonde hair soothingly. “This is the way it has to be…”
As the last of the glyphs fell away the hanging runes circled and reformed into the small platinum disk that had started the whole coup. Kate reached out slowly, allowing the disk to hover just above her palm for a second before she turned her energies to it. Cracks started to appear in the shiny circle, spreading rapidly until it finally cracked altogether. In the shattered remains of Lasarna’s Seal, four coloured orbs exploded from the disk, rushing into the air wildly, before flying out the window to return to their rightful hosts.
Cole’s small and frail body shuddered, and his sobs were the only sound heard in the now tranquil room.
As the magic ended, Kate felt the powers she had invoked gently slip away too. She blinked a few times, clearing the fuzzy haze from her mind. She was still tingling with the after effects but they felt warm and encouraging rather than anything to be frightened of.
Seeing Cole trembling on the floor, Kate knelt by his side and took him into her arms, holding him close as he continued to sob. He was so thin and weak, she couldn’t believe that he was the same person that had tried to cleave her in two not ten minutes ago. There would undoubtedly be consequences for what Cole had done, but she wouldn’t think about that now for his sake.
“Shhhh,” she soothed gently, rocking him back and forth. “It’s okay, things are going to be okay. It’s over now…”
“I... I just wanted him back, I miss him so much…” he wept weakly through choked snivels. As Kate ‘hushed’ him comfortingly, the young boy looked up, trying to muster the courage to look her in the eyes. His gaze made it as far as her wounded shoulder before he turned away, in fear and regret for everything he had done.
“I’m so sorry.”
The Aftermath
Saturday, 5 May 2007 – 10:30pm – Kate and Galen’s House
Kate didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling on the floor, holding Cole in her arms. He had been crying at first - quiet, pitiful sobs - burying his face against Kate’s breast; but gradually his weeping had subsided and he’d grown still and silent in her close embrace. She didn’t even realise that the boy had fallen asleep until a drowsy moan came from the other side of the room. Kate looked up, suddenly remembering Galen and Jack who had been sleeping peacefully thanks to Cole’s spell. Returning her attention to the boy in her arms she carefully lowered him to the ground, wincing a little as she put extra strain on her injured arm.
Galen moaned again, holding his head as he slowly sat up and began taking in the destruction that surrounded him that had once been the living room. “Kate?” he mumbled, sitting up fully, rubbing his aching head.
“Are you okay?” Kate asked softly as she knelt by her husband’s side, helping him up from the floor and sitting him back down in a chair.
“Yeah, yeah, I think so, I just have the worst headache - woah… what the-?” Galen slowly reached out towards Kate’s bloody shoulder. “Oh my god, you’re hurt…”
Kate looked down at her arm. Apart from a dull ache she’d almost forgotten about it. The adrenaline kicking into her system from her fight with Cole had dulled most of the pain. But looking at the stream of blood running sticky and warm from her shoulder all the way down to her fingers she suddenly felt sick and her face turned pale.
Galen quickly removed his shirt and began tearing it into strips, tying them tightly around her wound to stem the bleeding. “That goddamn little-” he swore as he tended to his wife, tightening the strips of his shirt around her shoulder firmly. “When I get my hands on him he’s gonna wish he’d never been born!”
“Ah!” Kate cried out in pain as Galen pulled the makeshift bandage tighter around her arm. “It’s okay…” she tried to get out between his angry mutterings, “Cole’s not a threat any more.”
“Not a threat?” repeated Galen looking at her as though she’d grown an extra head. “That… that jumped up Harry Potter gone mad forces his way into our home, knocks Jack and myself out cold and, and… just what did happen after that?”
Kate paused a moment before speaking. “He tried to kill me.”
Galen began to speak but Kate cut in over him. “Don’t start, you don’t know what happened, remember?”
“All right,” admitted Galen quietly, trying to subdue his anger. “Then why don’t you tell me? Wait, scratch that, you can tell me after we get you cleaned up.”
***Some Time Later***
“He’s sleeping,” announced Jack as he entered the kitchen. Kate sat at the table with Galen by her side as he cleaned up her bleeding arm. “Though I think a lock up in the county jail would be more appropriate than the guest room.”
“I told you,” said Kate with a slight grimace as Galen inadvertently pressed against her wound as he carefully cleaned away the blood from her arm. “He’s not a threat any more. He’s been through a lot lately-”
“HE has?” said Galen incredulously, “Jeez Kate, I know you like to take the road less travelled on these things and God knows your compassion knows no bounds, but in this case? The boy tried to kill you, WOULD have killed you if you hadn’t been able to stop him, he’s out of control! First the thing with that homeless guy and then there’s what he did to Darian plus his dabbling in black magic, now this…”
“I’d say he’s done more than dabble,” added Jack with a circumspect glance at his daughter.
Kate began to say something but she was cut off by a sharp intake of breath by Galen as he slowly unwound the rest of the bandage to get a better look at her injury.
“Damn this is deep,” he said, sucking air through his gritted teeth. “You might need stitches, what the hell did he do?”
“Some kind of mystic blade, I never saw it coming,” said Kate, trying to avert her eyes from the bright streak of red. The sight of blood always made her feel a bit queasy, especially when it was her own. She made herself examine the wide gash in her right shoulder. The skin hung back a little, forcing Kate to look away before she threw up.
“I’ll need some things from the pantry,” she mumbled, still looking sickly pale. “Aloe, silverweed, snakeroot… oh and there’s some elder flower in the greenhouse.”
Jack signalled to Galen that he’d get the necessary ingredients. A few minutes later he returned and lay several jars and a bundle of white, star shaped flowers on the table along with a pestle and mortar. He’d seen his wife make similar potions and ointments for injuries so he knew what Kate was doing without even asking.
Kate quickly mixed the ingredients together, grinding them with her free hand in the pestle and mortar until they resembled a thick green lumpy paste. At Kate’s direction, Galen used the mixture to seal her wound before binding it tightly again.
Jack suddenly landed a cup down on the table in front of her. “Here, drink this,” he said, looking up at his daughter with an apologetic half-smile. He felt annoyed with himself that he’d been so hard on Kate about what she’d tried to do with Emma. True, he couldn’t condone that sort of behaviour but she was still his daughter. The thought that he might have lost the chance to let Kate know how proud he was of her tonight was sobering indeed.
He gently nudged the cup towards her. “I added a drop of brandy to help steady your nerves. Drink… it’ll make you feel better.”
Kate returned her father’s smile and took a sip of the hot, sweet tea, the warm feeling of the alcohol settling in her stomach making her feel a little stronger.
“I’m not saying Cole’s an innocent in all this,” she said with a sigh. “But I’m certain he was infected with that virus at some stage even if he isn’t now. After that, well, I guess he was so pumped full of dark magics he couldn’t think straight. That kind of thing feeds off negative emotions, and the stronger the magic the more intense the feeling…”
“Fuel for the fire,” mumbled Jack quietly, sitting down on Kate’s left side.
“Exactly,” agreed Kate with another slight smile. “But it wasn’t just that, Cole came for me tonight because he wanted my power. He already took power from other people; Darian and from the way he was acting I’m guessing at least Daye also. He said he controlled the powers of the fae, and for a moment he was possessed by several entities, Evexus, Mother Mariah…”
“Mother Mariah?” asked Galen in disbelief.
“I’d recognise her voice anywhere,” said Kate with a chill shiver, taking another sip from her tea. “The runes Cole had on his chest… they turned into some kind of device, a flat metallic disk, it looked familiar. I think it was some kind of means for drawing power out of people.”
Jack frowned and quickly grabbed the note pad from beside the telephone, sketching a quick design. “Was it something like this?” he said, holding up the paper.
Kate took the pad in her hands and tilted it somewhat. It was a crude drawing but the runes looked familiar, as did the shape. “I think so…”
“It’s Lasarna’s Seal,” said Jack soberly. “Lasarna was an immensely powerful necromancer though she focused her energies into draining life-force rather than raising the dead. According to legend she created a device, several in fact, that could drain magical powers from one being into another. Most of them were destroyed when she was slain by a demon hunter, but there are still a few of them in existence.”
“Well there’s one less now,” said Kate, finishing the last of her tea. “I had to break it, it was the only way to release the stolen powers and free Cole from their influence.”
“So, what does that mean?” asked Galen in confusion. “Is he powerless?”
Kate shrugged a little. “I don’t know, he won’t have any of the powers that he stole and I’m guessing he’ll be quite weak for a while as he gets used to that loss.”
“More than likely his powers will just return to their normal level,” added Jack thoughtfully and then sighed, “Though I think Kate’s right, we should probably keep an eye on him, just in case.”
“I’ll call Darian in the morning,” said Kate, setting her empty cup back down. “Let him know what’s happened, but for now Cole just needs a good night’s sleep.”
Jack observed both his daughter and son-in-law carefully and smiled encouragingly. “As do the rest of us.”
****
Galen watched Kate carefully as she dressed for bed, pulling a black, lacy chemise on over her head. A slight grimace crossed her pretty face as she lowered her injured arm back down. She sat at her dressing table, slowly brushing her long hair, a distant expression on her face as though she were deep in thought.
Galen leaned against the table and lay a hand on her bare shoulder. “Are you really all right?”
Kate sighed tiredly and leaned against her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe all this is happening…”
“Shhhh,” soothed Galen, kneeling by her side while wrapping his arms around Kate and holding her close, rubbing her back gently. “It’s over now, you stopped it from happening.” He pulled back slightly so that he could look at her. “Like you always do.”
“I was so scared,” admitted Kate as she sank into Galen’s embrace again, taking comfort from his masculine warmth. “When I came home and saw you and Jack… and Cole. How could we have not known how badly he’d taken Chance’s death? Maybe he’s right, we should have done more, maybe we should have tried to look for Chance, find a way to-”
“Don’t go there, Kate,” said Galen sternly, “Chance sacrificed himself because he had to, I don’t pretend to understand everything that happened but I do know that a sacrifice taken back is a sacrifice negated. I’m sure Chance wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“Well I guess it’s too late now,” said Kate with a sigh, “and we have other things to worry about, like Ambrose Delancre and this virus…”
“They can wait till tomorrow too,” said Galen stroking back Kate’s hair from her face. Looking into her eyes, he smiled softly. “You’re an amazing woman you know that? Cole half kills you and you spend all your time worrying about how you’ve let HIM down.”
Kate shook her head slightly, “I don’t think that makes me amazing… more like stupid.”
“You care…” said Galen gently, softly caressing the side of her cheek, his fingers brushing against her soft skin. “That doesn’t make you stupid, it makes you a beautiful, wonderful person. You said you wanted the old Kate back? Well that’s her, that’s the Kate I fell in love with, the Kate I am still in love with.”
Kate sighed quietly, closing her eyes as she enjoyed Galen’s tender attentions for a moment. Finally she opened her eyes again and locked her gaze with Galen’s.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asked quietly as though afraid he might refuse her. “I… I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course I will,” said Galen warmly, bringing his face up to Kate’s and laying a gentle kiss upon her lips before wrapping his arms around her, enfolding her into a warm, loving embrace. “You don’t ever have to be alone so long as I’m around.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 6th of May
7:05 am
House of Kate and Galen Elridge
Cole’s exhausted eyes opened slowly as his brain kicked into ‘awake’ mode. As the initial grogginess wore off he sat up abruptly, not sure where exactly he was. The room was not one of those in Alessa’s estate, and it sure as hell wasn’t his room at Darian’s.
*Kate’s.* Memories of the previous night began to flood overwhelmingly into him.
“If I won’t be able to take your power, well then I’ll just settle for killing you, and getting it somewhere else!”
Cole brought his knees close to his chest, drawing his arms around them, as the memories continued.
“Stop it! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! Stop…”
“…I need him back Kate, please… don’t… take… him… away... from… me.”
“Oh God,” he shuddered. Now, no longer under the effects of Hyde or black magic, Cole was able to feel the full weight of his past actions. He had hurt so many people; Darian, Onyx, Kyle, Alessa, Daye, Kate, all of them.
“What… what have I done?”
The boy thought back to the photo of him, Alessa and Chance that rested in the drawer in his room at Darian’s, and shuddered.
“Is this what Chance would have wanted?”
Cole couldn’t bear to think what Chance would have said if he had seen it all. No, he never would have wanted this.
But Chance wasn’t here any more – he was gone, and now Cole had managed to alienate himself from the few people that were still around who cared for him.
Now, he really was alone.
Closing his eyes, Cole stretched out his consciousness over the house – Kate, Jack and Galen were all still sleeping. *Good,* he thought, not wanting to disturb them as he threw off the covers and walked quietly to the desk in the corner of the guest room. Within a drawer he found a pad of paper. Picking up a pen that lay there beside it, he began to write.
Folding up the tiny paper, the teen placed it gently on the dresser opposite the bed. Trembling slightly, he withdrew his hand, and with sunken heart, made his way quietly from the bedroom.
Silently, the tiny frame of the teen tiptoed down the hall until he reached the bathroom.
“Goodbye,” he whispered, before passing through the threshold and closing the door behind him.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday May 6th,
7:30 am
House of Kate and Galen Elridge
The tiled floor felt strange under Cole’s bare feet, as the bathroom door clicked shut behind him. The boy looked at the pristine white walls and quaint country styled decorations and frowned, thinking of the obvious mess his actions were going to make. *At least the tiles can’t stain,* he thought morbidly, searching the cabinet for something he could use. Shifting through toothpaste and soap, the boy’s hands closed around a box of ‘Mach 3’ razor blades. Luckily, Galen favoured a standard razor over the electric kind.
Everything seemed so surreal as Cole slowly climbed into the tub, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. A moment from now all the pain, all the suffering, all the guilt would flow down the drain, finally leaving him at peace.
For a second, he wondered how people would react when they found him. Would they care? Would they be happy? He had done so many horrible things, that this was probably what he deserved.
“It is what I deserve,” he sighed, bringing the cold metal to his skin.
As he began to increase the pressure, a gentle breeze passed through the room, billowing the plastic curtains of the bath.
"Are you quite sure about that, kiddo?" A soft voice floated from behind the curtains, taking the boy off guard.
Cole’s fingers grew limp and the blade tumbled into the porcelain tub. His muscles tightened in a mixture of shock and disbelief and he remained motionless, not even taking in another breath.
It couldn’t be.
Moving his gaze to his wrists, he saw that there was no blood. But if he wasn’t already dead, then this was impossible, that voice, it couldn’t be him.
“Who… who’s there?” he mumbled disbelievingly.
"You know who," the voice whispered gently. "You can pull back the curtain. I'm not going anywhere if you do. Look."
“This isn’t real,” Cole whispered, shaking in his head, and turning so he faced the wall instead of the direction of the voice. “Why… why are you doing this to me? This… this isn’t funny? Haven’t I been through enough?”
Cole wasn’t sure who he was speaking to, but what he did know was that someone was playing games with his mind, and no doubt laughing at the emotional distress.
"No joke. No tricks. No games," the voice said. A hand reached over, slowly drawing back the curtain, and settled on Cole's shoulder. "It's me, and I'm really here. For a little while, anyway."
At first Cole drew back from the touch, but then stopped. It was the strangest thing, and if ever asked again to explain he was sure he would not be able to, but deep down, in the core of his being, he knew it was really him.
“Chance?”
Finally Cole turned around, his eyes confirming the hope within his heart. A sense of warmth and protection washed over the boy, as he gave up trying to rationalize the man’s presence; he didn’t care how he had got there, just that he was there.
“I’ve tried to be strong like you said,” he whimpered suddenly through tears that had made their way to his eyes. “But I… I just wanted…”
The boy couldn’t finish his sentence due to the large lump in his throat, so instead he simply sagged against Chance’s body, crying into the man’s shoulder.
Chance enfolded the boy into a massive hug, just letting the tears flow and giving compassionate words. “I know, kid, I know. I’ve tried to keep an eye on you. They… told me everything.”
Cole remained momentarily frozen, a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through his body. Although he was in pain and anguish for what he had done, seeing Chance filled him with a happiness he thought he had lost forever.
“How?” Cole asked, drawing back from Chance’s strong arms. “How is this possible?”
“Well,” Chance began, taking a moment to compose his words. “It’s kind of a long story. The Powers That Be granted me a one time deal to come see you, other that that I can’t say much. And I’m only ‘back’ in the loosest of terms, and only for a little while.” He shook his head. There was a bare pause, and then a wide grin sprawled on his face.
“I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide,” he said in his best Ian McKellan voice, which was not very good but served to break a little of the tension. Even through his tears, Cole managed to smile a little. “Seriously, though. I’m… touched for what you did for me. Tried to do for me. But you have to let me go, Cole. Where I am now… I’m beyond your help. And I made the choice to go. It was my choice.”
The boy moved closer to the sink in order to grab a hand towel and wipe his face, but despite his efforts new tears always sprung up, replacing the old ones. “How many times have you seen me cry now, like a thousand?” Cole tried to joke, not sure what else he could reply.
Noting the change in subject, Chance went with it. “At least you aren’t keeping it all bottled up inside. That’d be even worse.”
How ironic it was that he say that, because deep down, Cole wanted to tell Chance to come back, but knew he couldn’t; it wouldn’t be fair to the man to make him feel any more guilt about the decision he’d made.
“So I’m guessing you’re going to have to go back to wherever ‘back’ is soon?” the boy said, unable to conceal the sadness in his voice. “Are… are you okay, wherever that is?”
A shadow passed over Chance’s face and he looked away, going as white as a ghost for a moment, before looking back, his composure regained. “I can’t say. But don’t worry about me, you have your own problems to deal with. And as I said, I’m beyond your help anyway.”
He sighed, “Yeah, I’ll have to go back soon. They won’t let me stay for long. I’m just here long enough to talk you out of doing something stupid. Which, it appears, I was just in time for,” he said, looking at the knife. “Wanna talk about it?”
Cole dropped his gaze, trying to avoid eye contact with Chance. “I… It’s just…” The boy struggled, trying to think of how to explain why he was about to take his own life.
“After you left,” he started, finally managing to structure the multitude of thoughts and feelings that were bubbling inside, “things they just seemed to start deteriorating. I started practicing magic again, and I got obsessed. Daye became my teacher, instructing me in dark arts; but it wasn’t enough. I ended up fighting with Darian, and I ran away.” He paused briefly, trying to stifle a sob at he thought of the fae sprawled out on the floor, shaking from the pain of Cole’s magic. “I almost killed him Chance, I was so caught up with getting power, that…” Cole was overcome with such shame that he had to turn away, unable to have Chance look at his face.
“I know,” Chance said after a while. “I know what power can do to you. How it can corrupt you. And I know it’s hard but…” He looked away again, then back. “I can’t tell you what’s going on, but you have to believe me when I say people aren’t exactly themselves. You can’t apologize for that. For the most part, it wasn’t your fault. So, yes, it’s hard at the moment.” He gave a grim smile, “But once they realize that you were under the influence of something else, people will forgive you.”
The man frowned slightly with concern when the boy did not turn back around. “Come on Cole, Darian will get over it; the guy doesn’t have a mean bone in his body… err well at least when he’s the one running his body,” he said lightheartedly.
“I know about the virus Chance, but it was even before that. Since I was thirteen I’ve been alone. While other kids my age are going to parties, getting drunk, having a childhood, I’m off trying to open up interdimensional portals, it’s not normal.”
“Ahh…” Chance said, nodding knowingly. “So that’s what it all comes down to: being normal. None of us are normal, kid. That’s what makes us stand out in the crowd, nothing to be ashamed of at all. Who the hell wants to be normal? That’s just boring. And if you were normal would you have met me, Darian, Alessa or…” he frowned, “…Kyle? Actually, let’s forget I said that. The point is, being normal is what everybody wants but when you get right down to it, it’s an unsung horror. It’s not being normal that’s makes you, well, you.”
Cole turned back, his glistening blue eyes still wandering over the ground, as he remembered the day they and Alessa had spent at the beach. He remembered feeling such strength and self assurance after Chance’s speech, and couldn’t help but feel a bit the same way now.
“It’s so much easier to believe that when you’re here but the truth is, when you leave, I don’t think I’ll feel the same way… and that scares me, Chance. I didn’t - don’t - want to die, but I just don’t want to be so lonely any more.”
Chance took a step forward, and gently lifted Cole’s chin so he could look the boy in the eyes. “You’re not alone Cole. Alessa, Darian… Kate, Tash, there are a lot of people who care about you, you just have to not be afraid to open up and let them into your lives.”
The tears finally came to a gradual halt as Cole thanked whatever Power it was that allowed Chance to come back even if it was a only this once. “You know Chance, I… I never told you, before you left… I-”
Although the lump in his throat had left, the boy still seemed to have trouble getting the final words out.
Chance smiled as he wrapped Cole in a final hug.
“I love you too, kiddo.”
Guest Appearance Brad Pitt as Chance
Thanks to Matt for writting Chance
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 6 May 2007 – 8:11am
Kate awoke with a start as though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her. She sat up in bed, breathless and gasping for air, her heart pounding beneath her breast. Galen moaned a little at her side, rolling over and burying his head beneath his pillow to block out the dull sunlight that filtered into the room. Kate watched him as he slowly drifted back to sleep. She had really missed him not sleeping with her, he looked so peaceful, so calm… sometimes she really envied his inability to sense the same things she did.
The house felt cold, as though a foreign presence had settled there, disturbing the energies somehow. It was so strong that Kate felt powerless to ignore it. She slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb Galen again and pulling on her robe she walked down the hall to the guestroom where Cole had been situated after last night’s events had left him on the point of exhaustion.
“Cole?” Kate called quietly, knocking on the door gently. She waited a moment before trying the handle. The door swung open easily revealing the empty room. Kate stood in the doorway looking around, a confused frown spreading across her face. She stumbled inside, sitting down on the messed up bed.
She couldn’t believe that he’d just up and left. He’d been so distraught last night after he’d been drained of his stolen powers, he wasn’t in any fit state to be alone right now. Looking up, Kate’s eyes fell on a scrap of paper that lay on the dresser. She rose to her feet slowly, a feeling of apprehension growing inside her chest, tight and painful as she picked up the note and turned it over.
Minutes later Kate was racing out of the bedroom, the note clenched tightly in her hand as she ran to the bathroom. *No, he’s not done this… he hasn’t…* thought Kate frantically as she pulled on the door handle. The lock turned with a dull click barring her entry.
“Cole!? COLE!!!” shouted Kate as she banged on the locked door, before holding her hand over the keyhole and sending a wave of telekinetic energy through the locking mechanism. A loud CLICK sounded as the door swung open to reveal Cole perched on the side of the bathtub.
It took a moment for the boy to react to Kate’s presence, but when he did, it was not at all as she expected. Although he trembled slightly, an aura of love and caring surrounded Cole, filling the room with a gentle sense of warmth.
“It’s okay, Kate,” he said slowly, his expression calm and at peace. “I didn’t do it.”
Kate walked inside, feeling the paper note still crumpled up in her hand, and breathed a sigh of relief. What she’d been expecting… she didn’t even want to think about it, it was way too close for comfort and she couldn’t help but remember that night at the hospital after her miscarriage.
“Cole…” she said gently, sitting next to him on the side of the bath. She could see the razorblades lying in the bottom of the tub, thankfully unused. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.
The boy never moved his gaze to Kate, instead staring off into some far off place. Minutes before, he had been dead inside; no hate, rage, fear, love, nothing. He had been stripped of the will to live, and it seemed only fitting that the physical vessel join his spirit in death. But he was saved. It was not through spells, or magic, and there was no grand battle where he fought for survival.
No, Cole was saved through a simple conversation. He couldn’t help but smile, thinking that after this entire grandiose story, he had been saved by something so mundane and common, something so blissfully normal. Finally returning from his thoughts, Cole turned to look at Kate. “I think I’ll be okay,” he said, as if realising it for the first time.
Kate smiled softly, rubbing his shoulder slightly through his t-shirt. Something had obviously happened but she just wasn’t sure what. That earlier feeling she’d sensed was much stronger here, more alive but growing weaker with every passing second. “Did something happen?” she asked carefully, not wanting to upset the boy.
At first he didn’t respond, but eventually Cole smiled slightly, as if he should have known it would end like this all along. “He saved me again, just like he always did.”
Kate was silent for a moment, observing Cole quietly. He seemed quite at peace as though a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. “Who…?” she began and then stopped, focusing on Cole more intensely.
“Chance?” she asked finally in realisation, “Chance was here?”
“Come to save the day,” he finished.
“It’s what he was good at,” agreed Kate with a gentle nod of her head, holding Cole closer. “Come on, let’s go downstairs and fix you something to eat, then we can call Darian and start to put the world to rights ourselves. Okay?”
Kate and Cole Talk
Sunday, 6 May 2007 – 8:39am – Kate and Galen’s House
Kate stood at the stove and slowly stirred the pan of oatmeal, adding a little more milk to the dry oats and mixing it through. Cole sat silently at the kitchen table, a couple of empty bowls and spoons waiting on the table in front of him. He hadn’t spoken much since they’d come downstairs; Kate wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign or not. He didn’t seem particularly distressed though there was an uneasiness in his boyish features and his expression was both thoughtful and kind of worried. Kate was glad that they were the only ones awake so far, hoping that the solitude would allow them to talk a little… Right now, Cole looked like he needed a friend to confide in. Kate could only imagine what sort of things he’d been doing over the past few weeks.
The contents of the pan began to bubble gently, thick, creamy holes appearing on the surface. Kate lifted the pan, wincing a little at the pain in her wounded shoulder as she carried it over to the table and spooned out the rich, wholesome mixture into the two waiting bowls.
“Eat up,” Kate said with false cheer, nudging the bowl closer to Cole who looked at the offering with disinterest. “I promise, I might not be the world’s best cook, but my oatmeal was legendary back home… It’ll make you feel better,” she added with an encouraging smile as Cole looked up at her.
Unable to conceal it any longer, the boy’s thoughts finally made it to the surface. “I tried to kill you last night Kate, and now...” he paused, looking down at the meal before him. “Why are you doing this for me?”
He was no doubt thankful the witch hadn’t decided to take vengeance on him for the prior transgressions, but this kindness, well it was rather unsettling. In his heart, the boy thought he should pay for what he did, not be pampered as if nothing had happened.
Kate sighed, stirring around the edge of her bowl with the spoon, eating a little before resting the utensil back down. “Cole, I’m not an idiot, I can only imagine what things you’ve been doing lately… and yes you tried to kill me but… you weren’t yourself. You’ve been ill and…” Kate thought for a moment, it was a question that had been running around in her head for many days now since she had first found out about the virus. “Well, you can’t be held entirely responsible for your actions.”
“I didn’t have the virus when I came here,” he replied quietly. No, he hadn’t been under the influence of the sickness at the time - what had possessed him was much worse. Channelling so much dark energy could taint one’s spirit, and it was a miracle Kate had brought him back from that.
He looked down to his bowl, trying to avert his gaze from Kate’s concerned expression. “I hurt so many people trying to get Chance back. Darian, Daye, Kyle, Alessa… you.” He paused, letting the sentence hang in the air. “How am I supposed to make up for what I did, Kate?" he asked, his regret all too obvious in his voice.
“I’m not saying I have all the answers,” admitted Kate regretfully, observing the teen with quiet concern. “But it’s easy to make mistakes, especially when we’re hurting, but realising when you’ve done wrong is at least a step in the right direction. Then, all you can do is try to put things right again…” At Cole’s questioning eyes Kate smiled weakly.
“I don’t know how you do that, Cole, but I think you’ll know when the time is right. Follow your heart, do what you believe is good and you can’t go far wrong. The people who care about you will understand, Cole,” said Kate softly, placing her hand on top of the boy’s. “Alessa and Darian are your friends and I know they have been very worried about you lately. I’m sure they’ll just be glad to know that you’re safe.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said dryly, thinking back to the last encounter he had with each. “I almost killed Darian, and Alessa kicked me out of her house; I doubt they want to see me again.”
“I know what you did to Darian,” confessed Kate, suppressing a shudder as she remembered the state that poor man had been left in. “He called me and I went and healed him… he was upset, you really hurt him…”
Kate bowed her head slightly drawing her gaze away from Cole’s. Darian had been so weak, drained to the point that it had been difficult for him just to breathe, but when he was well again his initial annoyance had been replaced with simple, heartfelt concern for the boy he looked on as his younger brother.
“He’s okay now,” Kate assured him, squeezing Cole’s hand a little. “But he’s worried about you, you’re like family to him. I know he’ll forgive you if you give him the chance to… if you explain why you did what you did. He cares about you too much to even think of turning his back on you.”
“You really think he’ll forgive me?” Cole asked, a sliver of hope etched in his voice.
Kate smiled gently. “I do.”
A tiny smile crept onto the teen’s face. Oh how he wished Kate would be right, and things could get better from here. If Darian, Alessa… everyone could put this behind, and forgive him, it would be a miracle. Of course, Cole knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but if there was a chance to get things back to the way they were before, he would work damn hard to make it that way. Hell, if he could steal the magics from three powerhouses and almost open a portal to a hell dimension, he could walk the hard path to redemption, a path he would start on now.
“Kate,” he said, looking up to meet her gaze. “I know this may not mean a lot to you, but I’m truly sorry for what I did. I don’t know what I can do to make things right, but I want to try.”
“You’re wrong, Cole,” said Kate, patting the boy’s hand encouragingly. “It does mean a lot to me and I know you’re sorry… and I accept your apology.”
Cole’s body seemed to un-tense, as if a weight had been lifted off. But it seemed too easy, and the boy knew not all apologies would go over so smoothly. Sure Kate and Darian may let things slide, but what of the others? His smile faltered as he thought of Dalton’s now re-empowered assistant. Gulp.
Kate frowned as she noticed Cole’s relief at her acceptance quickly drain away. He looked a little pale and that troubled, fearful expression returned to his face. “Cole?” she asked curiously, “what is it? Is something wrong?”
“Well,” he began as his finger nervously fidgeted with the table cloth. “I uhh... well I didn’t only steal Darian’s power. See the thing is… ummm well I also drained that demonic assistant of Marcus Dalton, and Amanda as well. Now that I’m weak, and they have their powers back…” He didn’t bother finishing the sentence, leaving the rest up to Kate’s imagination.
Kate’s breath caught in her throat at the mention of Marcus Dalton and Amanda. Cole had certainly been putting himself about. “Well… I wouldn’t worry about Daye… she’ll probably be too busy using her newly regained power to go-” Kate stopped herself from finishing her sentence, *go fuck someone else’s husband,* she thought to herself but she would never use such language in front of a child like Cole and she felt her cheeks redden slightly just from thinking such hard words in his presence.
She could understand Cole’s worry on Marcus’ score though, Onyx was his aide and he would no doubt want retribution if she had been harmed by Cole’s attack. His reputation would be damaged if word got out that a child, no matter how powerful, had managed to injure him and even though Marcus was no mage Kate imagined that there were plenty of nasties he could raise to exact his revenge on Cole.
“I can’t make any promises,” Kate said carefully. She knew she held no sway over Marcus or the decisions he chose to make whatsoever. But Cole was in no shape to go against a necromancer or his demonic assistant, and she would just have to try to convince Marcus of that fact. “But I’ll try to talk to Marcus for you, if he knows you’re not a threat any more he might be willing not to…”
Kate didn’t finish that sentence but pursed her lips together thoughtfully. “I don’t know if he’ll listen to me, but I promise…” Kate reached out again to take Cole’s hand. He looked so worried and she supposed he had just cause to be. “I promise I won’t let him hurt you okay? I’ll protect you if need be.”
Cole was about to reply, but a loud knock coming from the front door interrupted. Kate smiled as she withdrew her hand and walked over to the entrance. Cole too stood up, but he stayed behind, lingering in the kitchen.
“Yeah he’s fine, he’s in the kitchen,” he heard Kate say after a moment, as she and the new arrival made their way back to him. Cole trembled slightly as Kate walked in, followed by Darian.
“Cole,” Darian said softly, with no hint of anger in his voice.
The boy opened his lips, but no words came out. Much like he had with Kate, he felt that sorry seemed too insignificant for the things he had done. “Darian, I…”
“Shhh, it’s okay, Cole,” he hushed comfortingly as he moved forwards, pulling the boy into a protective hug.
The tremors that had been coursing through his tiny frame had stopped. Much like with Chance, Cole felt a sense of relief and safety when around Darian, as if nothing bad could happen when he was there. “Don’t worry Cole, I know you weren’t yourself, I don’t blame you for anything.”
Kate’s smile warmed as she beheld the touching reunion. If Cole had been in any doubt that Darian would forgive him then he wasn’t any more. The scene was incredibly touching and Kate hung back in the doorway not wanting to interrupt the two friends.
“I told you things would work out,” she said after a moment, smiling in response to Cole’s happiness.
Cole looked back at the witch, gratitude in his eyes for all her kindness, more than he deserved. “Can we go home Darian?” he whispered quietly, turning back to the fae.
Darian grinned; there was only one answer. “Of course.”
Elliot and The Seer
6 May 2007 – 11:32am – The Residence of The Ministry, Beverly Hills
Starring – Sam Neill as Professor Elliot Zimmerman, Pierce Brosnan as Aimes Carmichael, Kevin Spacey as Dr Michael Gemmel and Gary Oldman as Dragomir Der Drahtzieher
“My good friend,” said Elliot in reverence as he entered the small darkened chamber of Seer Longstein. “I respectfully bow to your higher knowledge…”
“Then sit and we shall talk,” mumbled the creature known as Longstein.
Elliot knelt before the hollow where the demon sat with his legs crossed and his head bowed in thoughtful contemplation. The Seer always seemed to adopt the same position, his dark grey, shrivelled skin hidden mostly by his long black robes; even the hood was pulled low, and combined with the mandatory darkness it was almost impossible to discern just what kind of creature Longstein actually was.
“The girl…” began Elliot slowly, raising his eyes a little to look at the dark hunched up figure.
“Ah yes… the girl,” echoed Longstein. From beneath his hood a dark yellow light emanated. “She will give the First Elder a fair fight, a fair fight indeed…”
The creature reached out a withered hand and with a long dirty looking claw began to scratch symbols into the dirt floor. “Ah… yes… a most favourable outcome…”
Elliot strained his neck to make out the markings. Even with all his years in studying magic he’d never come across a method of divination like the one this demon used. “What do you see?”
“Blood… lots of blood… carnage, a band of warriors of Faith, I see… I see…” The Seer’s voice became faint, “But it is dark now, this time will not come for a while… we have time, you have time Sapien Elliot, to plan, to prepare. The time for waiting will soon be over. I think you should make contact.”
“So soon?” ventured Elliot in confusion, “I had not thought-”
“I only interpret… what The Fates choose to reveal to me… come closer and I will show you…”
****
Elliot blinked as he stepped out of the hovel and into the brilliant sunshine. Outside stood Carmichael, Gemmel and Dragomir, all eagerly awaiting what Elliot Zimmerman had to say. None of them had ever laid eyes on the Seer before but his skill was legendary in The Ministry. He would not lead them astray.
“Sir?” ventured Carmichael as Elliot remained strangely quiet and contemplative.
Elliot looked frustrated as he set a strident pace as he marched towards the main house. “Get my things together Carmichael, I leave for England this afternoon!”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
5th May, 11:32am
Watchers' Council Mansion, LA
“This is where you will be staying,” Moore said, gesturing to the interior of the barracks. “I trust the accommodation suits you?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Kyle answered, dropping his bag on the floor and not really putting much enthusiasm into his voice.
“Excellent. Now, as you will be staying with us we can increase your training schedule-”
Kyle turned to Moore and cut him off. “Just ‘cause I’m staying here does not make me some grunt in your toy army, ok?”
Moore repressed a smile, knowing that actually it did. “Of course not. Your arrangement will be special, and you will enjoy a certain more freedom than our, ah, ‘grunts’, as you put it. This involves being sent out on your missions still. Now, with you staying here, it means your training, and indeed overall efficiency can be increased.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
“I’ll leave you to get settled in,” Moore said, stepping backwards and closing the door behind him. “Ana has scheduled a training session with you in an hour.”
“Yeah, whatever,” the demon repeated to nobody but himself. With Moore gone and the troops out training, the barracks was empty.
He felt strangely… relieved. No. Freed. Free from Cole’s constant nagging and bitching, like he was his own damned mother. Now he wouldn’t have to answer for himself to Cole any more.
Hell, he should have upped and left weeks ago.
It was a good job he did go ahead with working for Delancre, as Cole did exactly what Kyle thought he would: turned against him in the end. Sadly, that was always the way. But at least this time Kyle was lucky enough to have this whole thing to fall back on.
And lucky it was. Roof over his head, food, lots of fights… the perfect set-up. Far, far more exciting than the kid and that bitch up at the big house.
Kyle chucked his bag on a bed that he picked as his own, climbed onto it himself and a lit a cig. Yeah, this was the life.
Strangely, considering he had prepared for Cole turning against him from the minute they met, what never crossed his mind was that Delancre might do the same…
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
1:23pm 6th May 2007
Downtown Los Angeles
Downtown Los Angeles boasted its fair share of cafés and bars and they spanned the whole range from low class grunge to Urban chic with everything in between and more besides. Marcus sat in the early May sun sipping espresso and waited for Andropov to arrive.
This was the earliest the Russian could meet Marcus and the two days that had passed since his call had given the necromancer time to cool his anger. That and Onyx’s unexpected recovery had made Marcus a little more sanguine about the whole affair. That didn’t mean he was going to let it pass though.
Onyx was sitting at his left and Marcus was relived to have her there; even two days without her presence had been uncomfortable. A surreptitious movement by his protector broke Marcus’ reverie and he noted Andropov get out of a car along with his flanking guards.
Nikolai adjusted the shades on his face, nodding to the two men with him to wait outside. He didn’t doubt that Marcus would notice them, but it never paid to be too careful with a necromancer, especially one you owed a favour to. The door opened easily, stopping there for a moment in the shop to remove his shades, glancing around for Marcus’ table.
When he finally found the necromancer and his companion, Nikolai unceremoniously slid into the seat across from him. “Good afternoon,” he said, looking at him carefully. He’d dreaded this moment since the virus went into remission, and wondered just what was going to be asked for, the price of raising the dead. “What can I do for you?”
“Please let’s be civilised about this Andropov…” Marcus motioned to a waitress. “I’ll have a refill and…” He looked at his guest.
"Just a cup of coffee," he sighed, waiting for the waitress to leave. He fixed a steady gaze on the necromancer as the waitress left. "My apologies, but I'm a bit busy with business today. Things are getting slightly... hectic." Which was true enough - he still had to find a few places for Dmitri as he'd been asked for, if the worst happened.
“I understand. The demands of modern business.” Marcus waited till the coffee arrived then, covered by the bustle of the surrounding customers, spoke slightly more softly. “A young man of my aquaintence has had the misfortune to make a number of mistakes. Nothing too dramatic but it has impacted on my interests. “I’d like to explain to him the dangers of such things.”
Nikolai nodded, able to understand. Still, there was justice and then there was justice. "I will need to know who he is, of course, and how serious his interference is. Dmitri has some rather old fashioned views about what kind of lesson is called for."
“Yes, I can quite imagine. Well, I could recite a number of grievances but most of them I’m willing to let pass. The attack on my personal assistant, however,” Marcus glanced at Onyx and when he returned his attention to Andropov his expression was noticeably tighter, “I’m not. As for a name? He’s called Cole Matthews and is quite talented.”
Cole Matthews. The name didn't sound familar to him much until he considered the White Hats. Cole Matthews. Part of him wanted to not have any sympathy; it took an incredible amount of stupidity to attack a powerfull necromancer. On the other, he wondered just what Marcus had been up to.
"What kind of talents?" he asked out of curiosity. "I'll have to see to it, of course, but it's nice to know what I need to deal with."
“He appears to be a young, somewhat capricious sorcerer, with more talent than training.” Marcus paused. Onyx may have regained her abilities that didn’t mean Cole had lost what he had stolen. “There is also a matter of stolen power. Shapeshifting and the like. I cannot say what else he may have taken, thus I suggest taking every possible precaution.”
Nikolai sighed. This would be more difficult than he imagined, but still possible. "All right. I'll see to it personally." As he got up to leave, he wondered: just how exactly would he see to it?
Marcus watched the Russian stand and narrowed his eyes. Andropov’s mannerisms lacked the clarity he had seen the last time they'd met, almost as if the man were having second thoughts. Marcus shrugged. If Andropov was, it wasn’t his problem.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
6 May 2007
Nikolai’s Condo
8:24pm
Alicia Wyldling sat on the couch, turning a glass of wine in her hand as Nikolai cooked in the kitchen. She’d had a fair amount of time to think about what had passed between them, and was still trying to decide what to do about it. On the one hand, he had betrayed her; on the other… she sighed as the thought occurred. Nikolai had come to her and confessed.
That had to count for something, didn’t it?
Then there was knowing him… thinking back on what he was like, the term `strange` seemed to fit him like a perfect description. He would sometimes get this distant look, or have a shift in his personality which he attributed to part of his personality becoming more or less powerful. Daye, the mob, this virus he spoke of, looking into the Council…
He still hadn’t told her how he found the list of people connected to a facility in Colombia. Despite being curious, she didn’t want to find out. All she knew was that she had convinced him that using her connections might not be wise and then he… what? Just what had he done?
Alicia gave a considering glance in his direction. For so long she’d simply not allowed herself to feel anything for another man, then he came into her life. Half-demon, an empath. Someone with several lifetimes’ worth of experience, as he put it… well, half of him with several lifetimes of experience, and he apparently enjoyed communicating in riddles.
Mostly, though, what she still wondered about was how he had been the week before. Even if Nikolai was strange, she hadn’t expected him to go into a full nervous breakdown on her. As she watched him, she came to the horrible realisation: she didn’t know him. Even Nikolai didn’t know what he was.
She jumped a little at the sound of something falling, a plate landing on the floor. “Kolya…” she called out, standing and heading towards the kitchen area. There he stood, wiping his forehead, a plate on the floor. “Kolya, are you all right?” she asked, concered.
Nikolai nodded, steadying himself. “I’m… I’m fine,” he said, taking a deep breath. He looked straight at her in thought, a look that told her he was reading her emotions again. It was never off, he’d pointed out to her. “Is something wrong?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about us,” she confessed after a moment. How could she do it? Part of her wanted to leave him, knew that it would never work; another still cared for him. He wanted to reform, so shouldn’t she give him the chance? On the other hand even the Xangyarj couldn’t reform him, it seemed. But on the other hand… *Great, I’m turning into Tevye.*
Nikolai nodded again at her, a sympathetic look on his face. “I know. It’s been disturbing you for a while. I um… I didn’t want to say anything,” he got out, looking away in shame. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about us too… in between other things.” Sighing deeply, he drained the last of a glass of vodka.
That look on his face was one that Alicia could recognise well. He was disturbed about something he’d been thinking, even more so than usual.
“I’m having problems,” he finally blurted out, before she could ask what was wrong. “My life is just a complete mess, has been the past few months. I...”
She looked at him with growing concern as he wiped his eyes, blinking. Obviously he was sweating, and she wondered if it was from more than just the heat of the kitchen. He wasn’t going to have another breakdown, she hoped. “Kolya, what is wrong?” she asked, feeling some of her impatience rise.
“I don’t know who or what I am,” he finally said, shaking his head. “Ok, so I know what I am, but I don’t know who I am. Not enough to… to support…” Nikolai’s hand came up to his chest for a moment, breathing slightly heavier.
“I don’t… think… I don’t want to hurt… but…”
Alicia walked over to Kolya with growing concern. Her mind felt a little numb as she realised the whole point of this evening would have been to soften the blow. Nikolai was trying to break up with her, and was in the middle of – her concern rose when she found his wrist. “Kolya, your pulse is up,” she said with concern.
“I’m… fine…” he got out, steadying himself again. Inwardly Nikolai kicked himself. No, it was nothing to worry about, just nerves getting in the way. Finally he looked into her eyes, there was still her concern there. The pain would heal in time, he knew. She might even forgive him one day.
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching up to gently stroke her cheek. “Alicia, I… I’m not breaking up with you, it’s just… until I know that I can be good – a good man for you, you deserve better than a gangster – I think we should…” His breath started to come hard again, and felt his legs go weak.
“Kolya!” she said in concern as he collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. She felt his elevated pulse, feeling helpless watching him sit there. One of his arms reached up in reflex as he clutched his left arm. In horror she reached for the phone, dialing 911. *I have to remain calm,* she thought as the terrible realisation set in.
Nikolai was having a heart attack.
“Don’t worry, the ambulance will be here soon,” she assured him as she crouched next to him again. The worst of the pain had seemed to pass in him, but he still sat there meekly on the floor. “Shhh, don’t try to talk,” she said.
“I have to,” he whispered, reaching up to put a reassuring arm on her shoulder. “I feel like I’m dying, Alicia… I have to… perhaps it’s for the best. You deserve a good man, not me.”
“Kolya, hush. Don’t-”
“Don’t say that, I know. But it’s true, you deserve a good man. Until I know I can be that…”
Nikolai’s breath came heavier, and Alicia shhhed him once more. This time the stubborn Russian actually listened to her. A look in his eyes though told her that he was worried about something… something he wasn’t letting on…
As he continued to breathe heavily, they waited in silence for the paramedics to arrive.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
6 May 2007
Los Angeles County Hospital
10:17pm
Alicia watched Nikolai rest peacefully on the hospital bed, with the IV tube in the back of his hand. He looked so peaceful lying there, she was just glad that he could take the opportunity to get the rest. She knew what he was trying to tell her earlier, but she had to at least see him through this.
*A heart attack,* she thought sadly, still waiting for Dr. Jennings to return with the results of the tests. The cardiologist had arrived quickly, and decided to both take blood and do an EKG on Nikolai and check him out. She hoped he’d be back soon with the results.
“Don’t you even think about getting up,” Alicia said as Nikolai began to stir in bed.
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Nikolai protested from the bed.
Even though he was feeling fine, he didn’t want to move. Not until he knew what had happened. All he knew was that at some point he’d managed to hyperventilate and pass out. Then when they got him there and drew blood, he started to meditate… and promptly fell asleep.
“No more meditation in the hospital for me,” Nikolai joked, looking up at Alicia’s concerned face. He sighed, knowing he had to go back and finish what he was telling her before, but how could he with how worried she was? Besides, he only told her part of the reason. If the Council caught his investigating, he wanted to be ‘split’ with her at the time, for her own protection. Hopefully not actively dating a half-demon would work in her favour if the worst happened.
“No more trips to the hospital for you,” she replied steadily, smiling at the fact that he could take it lightly, despite being concerned. Alicia sighed, unsure of exactly where to go next. So much just seemed to be going on.
“Ah, good, you’re awake,” a deep voice came from the door.
The tall figure of Dr. Jennings stood there, putting his glasses back on, dressed only in polo shirt and khakis. He seemed almost as tired as Nikolai must feel, she thought, watching him enter. “I have good news, you didn’t have a heart attack.”
Alicia and Nikolai both breathed a sigh of relief as the doctor stood there with his chart, flipping through it. There was still a concerned look on his face, though, and Nikolai could feel the concern. “But something else is wrong?” he asked, voicing Alicia’s fears.
“Well…” Jennings trailed off, sitting down in the room. “Have you been under much stress lately, Mr. Makarov?”
Nikolai was sorely tempted to laugh at that question. “A little,” he replied, making an understatement great enough to count as a lie. Alicia’s look told him that she at least saw right through the statement.
“Right, I want to keep you overnight for observation,” he said slowly. “Your blood pressure is 155 over 90 right now.”
Nikolai and Alicia both stayed there in stunned silence at the news. “You’re kidding,” she finally said, finding her voice before Nikolai. Such high blood pressures were dangerous to say the least, and could be a warning of an impending stroke.
“I wish I were,” Jennings sighed. “The lab workup also showed a rather high level of white blood cells, indicating an infection of some sort, and some slightly elevated cholesterol levels-”
“Oh no, I eat healthy,” Nikolai retorted, ruefully thinking that at the very least, he ate healthily compared to Americans. Well at least he had until recently; his diet had gone down-hill over the past couple of months.
“Still, aside from the high blood pressure, I’m not too worried,” Jennings continued. “It would be nice if we could lower your cholesterol as well, though. Mostly I’m puzzled over some of the things in your workup…”
Nikolai listened as Dr. Jennings went over a litany of a few of the stranger things that the blood test revealed, and concluded with one simple finding: Nikolai was ill with something. He had no idea what he was ill with, though, but could show it to a colleague of his-
“No, thank you, that’s ok,” Nikolai interrupted him at the offer. “Please, no. Can’t you just give me something for my blood pressure and cut me loose?”
“Well, I could, but I-”
“Then let’s do that.”
Jennings sighed. He knew that Nikolai, of course, had the right to refuse treatment, even to go against his advice, but still with that blood work, he wanted to find out what was going on. Nodding in defeat, he wrote a prescription for blood pressure medicine, and gave it to him before explaining it and excusing himself.
“Kolya, are you sure you want to do this?” Alicia asked, as Nikolai moved to sit up more in the bed. She wondered what exactly it was that would cause him so much stress as to push him to the point of thinking he had a heart attack, and even more to start to break up with her. There just had to be more to it than his strange reflections.
Nikolai nodded. “I can’t stay here, Alicia. There’s too much to do.”
“What is there? What’s so important it’s worth risking your health and breaking up with me over?”
Nikolai looked directly at Alicia in surprise. He’d not expected her to see through things so quickly or easily, though she might have word reach her later and figure it out. The woman simply had come to know him too well over the months. “Alicia, please, you don’t want to know-”
“And why not?” she snapped back. “What, you think you need to protect me? From what, your... business? Kolya, is this something to do with the mob?” Her voice lowered on that last, a look of pure concern coming over her. She was afraid that his attempts to get out again, that he thought they might be putting his life in danger – and possibly anyone close to him.
Nikolai sighed again. How much could he tell her? For that matter, how much could he keep from her? “No, nothing,” he said. “It’s… the Council… I’m putting you in danger.”
“Why? What makes you think that?”
“I’m half-demon. Half-demon, Alicia, while you work for an organisation which has no problems executing demon for being what it is.” Nikolai sighed, taking Alicia’s hands in his own, and resisting the urge to look away. “Alicia, I can’t do it. I care about you, and want you to be safe – and it’s true, you deserve a better man than me. Until I’m sure I can be the man that you deserve…”
Alicia fought back tears. She had considered leaving him as well, an idle consideration but it still hurt when faced with the reality. If they stopped, could they really give it another chance later? Then again, if Nikolai didn’t think it would work, would it be able to? It was ironic, the man she had fallen in love with – looking at him, she knew nothing would change his mind.
“I understand,” she said simply, touching his cheek before turning to leave. She didn’t want to be there right now, and knew that he would call later to find out how she was. Snatching up her purse, Alicia headed for the door, calling for a cab in the lobby.
Stopping for a minute, she ran over everything that happened in her mind, again and again. Nikolai was such an annoying contradiction at times, she couldn’t stand it! But needing and wanting her help to improve, while at the same time wanting to leave because he wasn’t good enough – and trying to protect her. Somehow she knew it was over during her silent ride home.
Jack Warns Kate about the Daltons
Sunday, 6 May 2007 – 8:14pm – Kate and Galen’s House
Kate paused to check her appearance in the mirror in the hallway, a frown wrinkling her smooth forehead as she fastened a pair of antique earrings in place though she really didn’t know why. The course of events couldn’t have unfolded in a more fortuitous manner if she’d planned them herself. It had been a stroke of luck really; only that morning had she promised Cole that she would talk to Marcus Dalton on his behalf and then several hours later the undeniably enigmatic Onyx had called with a message that Marcus requested her company for dinner that night.
But now Kate felt quite uneasy about the whole thing. She couldn’t help but feel confused as to why Marcus had wanted to meet with her on tonight of all nights. She couldn’t help but worry about Cole too. He had told her, in a manner, about his attack on Onyx, how he had managed to drain enough power from her to leave her incapacitated. Though the stolen power had all been restored to its rightful owners when she had smashed the Seal of Lasarna, Kate couldn’t help but feel somewhat uneasy. Cole was so vulnerable right now and if Marcus decided that he wanted revenge for any injury served to his ‘protector’ she didn’t know if she’d be able to protect him despite her promises.
Kate walked over to the door to pick up her coat, the long, satin column of her dress swishing about her legs as she moved. She idly hoped that tonight she would be dressed appropriately. Onyx had been more than clear on the phone, asking her to “please make an effort with your appearance this time” – which had almost been enough to make Kate rebel just for the sake of it and turn up in the most tatty pair of jeans she owned. In the end she had decided to bridle her irritation for the sake of keeping the peace; the last thing she wanted to do was annoy Marcus when she would be appealing to his better nature not to harm Cole.
A tired sigh escaped Kate’s lips as she turned back to the mirror. Several ugly bruises from the fight she’d had with Cole last night marred the pale elegance of her skin and despite her healing powers the nasty gash on her shoulder was far from healed, but sore looking and still quite swollen. Kate knew she would have to cover them up before she went out. She didn’t want to give Marcus any cause for concern, especially not when it affected Cole also. She needed to convince the necromancer that the young Mr Matthews was no longer a threat and she could hardly do that when she was covered in the bruises and cuts that he’d inflicted on her.
Kate slowly ran her hand across the wound in a sweeping gesture, looking up at her reflection as gradually the redness faded as though it had never existed. Kate turned her attention to the other marks, enveloping herself in a soft golden light. “Let the object of objection become but a dream, as I cause the seen to be unseen,” said Kate silently, sealing the simple glamour spell as the last of the bruises faded into nothing. She touched the area of the cut and winced at the unexpected pain thinking it was a shame that glamour spells only served to disguise the visual. She would have to make sure she kept her distance from Marcus tonight just to be on the safe side.
Kate leaned in closer to the mirror as she applied a coat of scarlet lipstick to her full, pouting mouth. She knew that asking Marcus to leave Cole alone was probably going to be an impossible task but after the assurances that she’d given the young boy she had to at least try. She would just have to make sure that she persuaded Marcus not to act - if that was his intention. Convince him that Cole was no longer a danger, which he really wasn’t, not any more.
“Wow,” said Jack, as he halted abruptly in the hallway, stunned to see his daughter dressed so exquisitely. “I didn’t realise you were going out tonight, meeting Galen somewhere special?”
“No…” Kate replied slowly, as though unsure whether or not to tell him the truth. She knew Jack wouldn’t exactly be pleased to find out that she was meeting with the very man who had almost helped her raise her dead daughter less than a week ago. “Galen’s out with a couple of the guys from the station tonight, and I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”
Jack’s eye regarded Kate’s attire with scrutiny; she seemed a little overdressed for dinner with just ‘a friend’. “What friend?” he asked guardedly.
“You don’t know him,” said Kate casually, turning back to the mirror to blot the layer of rich carmine lipstick from her lips.
“Him?” probed Jack further, his voice hinting at the dubious nature of that single word.
Kate brushed back a loose strand of hair from her face, sliding it back into the unstructured chignon before turning back to Jack. “Well he’s not so much a friend, more of… an acquaintance, I guess.”
“And does this acquaintance have a name?”
“…Marcus,” said Kate with a slight hesitation. She didn’t want to lie to Jack any more. There had been far too much of that lately. Sighing in resignation she added, “Marcus Dalton actually.”
Jack stood silent for a moment, his face crinkled into an expression of puzzlement. He watched as Kate finished getting ready and slipped on her coat, a loose wrap of dark Chinese silk that hugged her figure perfectly.
“That wouldn’t happen to be the same man who…”
“It would,” answered Kate firmly before Jack had time to finish his question.
He shook his head in disbelief. “The necromancer?”
Jack hadn’t been able to place the name before but now it suddenly clicked. He knew of only one family by the name of Dalton with such a ‘talent’ for raising the dead, but they heralded from Hong Kong, had for almost two hundred years. He hadn’t even heard mention of one of their flock making the move to Los Angeles.
“It wouldn’t hurt you to sound just a little less displeased,” said Kate in annoyance, waiting for the inevitable lecture.
Jack reined in his suspicions but fixed Kate with a firm gaze. “Does Galen know where you’re going tonight, and who with?”
Kate forced her breathing to remain steady as she returned Jack’s stern gaze. “Galen doesn’t need to know… at least… not right now.”
“No? But I think he’d want to know, don’t you?” asked Jack intently. He knew the Daltons by reputation more than anything, but that was bad enough. He didn’t want his own daughter getting mixed up in that lot, not after everything she’d been through already.
“It’ll just upset him,” assured Kate with a shake of her head. “Besides, it’s a sort of last minute affair, I’ll tell Galen when he comes home.”
Jack frowned, standing behind Kate as she checked her glamour again in the mirror. He gazed at his daughter, smoothing out her beautiful shiny hair. “I know you and Galen have had your problems,” he continued, his voice softening a little, “but Kate, you’re still married, you are still his wife. Are you really willing to put all that at risk for dinner with this man?”
“Jack, I’m not risking anything,” Kate insisted reassuringly. “My interest in Mr Dalton is entirely professional.” She looked away for a moment. “Marcus was one of the people that Cole attacked, well his aide to be precise. I just want to make sure that there’s no ill will still being harboured.”
“Marcus?” echoed Jack in disapproval, turning Kate so that she faced him properly. “For someone you only have a professional interest in you seem to be on very intimate terms. Tell me, did he extend the invitation to you, or the other way around?”
Kate frowned, furrowing her brow slightly. “He did, and I know what you’re implying but you’re wrong. He knows I’m married, there was never any ambiguity on that matter.”
“Oh Kate, don’t be so naïve!” barked Jack in annoyance. “Do you think anything would stand in his way if there was something he wanted? I know of his father; Garland Dalton’s predilection for excess is notorious. He’s the kind of man that would happily squander a fortune to satisfy his base appetites - drink, drugs, women - and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you can count on that.”
He cast a further annoyed glance at Kate’s appearance. “You go to him dressed like this, he’ll think all his Christmases have come at once, a new plaything for him to sport with.” Jack took hold of his daughter by the arms, easing his grip as she winced in pain.
“Kate, you don’t know the first thing about this man, about the family he comes from. I do. I’m telling you the Daltons are not the kind of people you want anything to do with. Old money breeds contempt for anyone that isn’t the same as they are. Believe me, the Daltons are no different on that score. They are the kind of people that take what they want and discard it when it’s no longer of any use to them. Do you really want to be treated like that?”
Kate held Jack’s fearful gaze, her dark blue eyes melding into his.
*Please… can’t you just trust me?* she entreated him silently. *I know what I’m doing.*
*I just don’t want you to get hurt, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into here.*
*I have to try… for Cole’s sake.*
*This is Cole’s mess, he should clean it up himself.*
*He’s just a boy! He needs my help.*
The two of them shared many more unspoken, argumentative thoughts before Kate broke the telepathic connection with a sigh. Jack spoke with such authority about the Daltons but she couldn’t believe that Marcus was the same as his wayward family. In all the time that she had known him, on every night that they had met, she’d never once felt even a strand of malice or hate. It was true he often held himself aloof from other people, it was obvious that he was afraid of getting close to anyone, a fact that only seemed more moving because of his desperate loneliness. But that didn’t make him as cruel and heartless as her father was making out.
Besides, right now he was a friend and she enjoyed his company. Was there anything wrong with that? She wasn’t so naive to not realise that it might appear a little… inappropriate for a married woman to be having dinner alone with a handsome single man… and Kate had to admit that Marcus was handsome, she’d have to be blind to think otherwise. But it wasn’t like either of them harboured any secret longings that she was aware of. Marcus seemed quite content with whatever arrangements he had in place and as for herself… well Jack might have been right about the state of her relationship with Galen but she wasn’t about to give up on her marriage so soon. She still loved Galen, after all.
“You don’t know him,” said Kate softly, returning her attention to her father. “He isn’t like that, I would have sensed it. You haven’t even met him! I was such a mess during the past few weeks, Jack. I went to Marcus for help because I knew he was the best and he did help me, more than he needed to. He was kind to me… and sympathetic for my loss, not because he had to be but because he wanted to, because… I believe that’s the kind of man he is. I’ve met necromancers before, people with his abilities, and every one of them was corrupt to the bone, their hearts, their souls poisoned against anything that is good.”
“And you’re trying to tell me that this… Marcus, isn’t like that?” said Jack doubtfully.
Kate shook her head, “I’m not saying he’s some kind of saint. I’m sure that if he wanted to he could be as base and corrupt as everyone else. He has such power in his grasp and a real aptness for the legacy that has been bestowed upon his family. But there is something more to him. The other necromancers I’ve met, they’ve always been lacking that basic humane essence. Marcus is different, I’ve felt it in him, inside, something real, alive. I don’t know where his allegiances lie but if he could be persuaded-”
“Why do you have to go about trying to save everyone Kate?” exclaimed Jack, tightening his hold on her. “Can’t you see that not everyone is worth saving? People like Marcus Dalton know only one kind of allegiance, the one that brings a profit to their pocket, the one that benefits themselves and no one else. You’re a fool if you think there is anything in him worth your efforts.”
The two shared a fleeting glance before Kate opened the front door. “I can’t help the way I am, Jack. Maybe I am stupid to think that someone who has been kind to me deserves my faith in their ability to be good, but if so I’ll gladly be a fool.” She gently took her father’s hand and squeezed it slightly; she hated fighting with him and she really didn’t want to leave tonight with such bad feeling between them.
“At the very least you could wish me luck… I’m doing this for Cole after all.”
Jack shook his head firmly, pulling his hand from his daughter’s. “Why do you need luck, Kate? If Marcus Dalton is all that you say he is then he would never think of getting revenge on a defenceless boy.” Suddenly the sound of a car horn broke the prolonged silence and Jack looked beyond Kate to the cab that was parked outside the house. “Your taxi is here, you’d better not keep Marcus waiting.”
Day leaves in madness
*** Saturday, May 5, 2007 10:04 pm ***
*** Daye’s house ***
Daye sat up abruptly, jolted out of a peaceful sleep. Drew lay beside her, only inches away. He slept on, blissfully unaware that his world was once again about to come to pieces around him. Daye’s hands flew to her ears and she shook her head violently from side to side trying to deny what was happening. Her breath came in shallow, panicky gasps. The magic flooded her. The voices screamed, gibbering madly in her mind. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. Beside her Drew dreamed in peace, unaware of the war she suddenly waged with her power and her thoughts.
Magic flowed in and around her, power nearly unchecked. She’d been unprepared, unwilling to consider that she might get her magic back. She didn’t want it. She just wanted to be at peace. But what she wanted didn’t matter. Daye was right back where she started, only somehow this was worse.
Before, she’d been managing, barely, but she’d been managing. She’d had shields in place. She’d maintained some sort of control. Now, she had been caught by surprise, all her shields and control completely down. Mariah and Erin struggled over her, the ultimate prize in their battle. Daye couldn’t stand against the combined assault. Her magic made things worse. She was charged, supercharged.
The only sane thought she had was that she had to get out. Drew was in danger. Sam was in danger. “Maia,” she moaned under her breath. She was in danger as well. They could all be hurt… or worse. Daye was too dangerous to be near them. She had to get out.
Silently, so as not to wake Drew, Daye slid out of the bed and moved towards the door. She slipped into the soft slippers as she left the room. She was moving slowly, her body bent in on itself, her head a mass of madness. She made her way through the house, unaware of the soft mewling sounds coming from her mouth or the tears coursing down her cheeks.
Daye walked out into the cold night air, shivering because she wore only the thin nightdress she’d put on for bed. Her eyes were wide and wild, and her face was twisted into a grimace of pain and horror. She walked down the drive, passing her car. She didn’t stop. She had left the keys inside, with her clothes, all her possessions, and her life. She didn’t know where she was going, and it didn’t matter. Everything that mattered was behind her now.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
6th May 2007 – 8:34pm - The Belvedere, Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel
Kate took another sip from her strawberry daiquiri as she waited for Marcus to arrive, the bartender casting her another slight smile as he watched her from the end of the bar. Kate felt her cheeks redden at his obvious fascination but she held his gaze purposefully until another customer arrived and his attention was diverted with the task of actual work. She had never been the kind of woman who sought to provocatively attract the attention of men, especially those she didn’t know, but she felt a slight thrill inside as she caught the bartender’s eye again as he stooped to retrieve a glass. Her glamour was working perfectly. Kate turned away as she took another sip from her cocktail and looked around the busy restaurant.
The Belvedere was beautifully decorated with heavy, starched table cloths and intimate lighting. Kate remembered reading a review about the place; the food was supposedly to die for but she was actually more intrigued about why Marcus had wanted to see her in the first place. Intrigued and a little bit apprehensive if she was entirely honest. Jack’s warnings still echoed clearly in her mind, refusing to be quiet.
“Please don’t let me be making another mistake,” she said under her breath before finishing her drink.
Marcus waited impassively as the elevator descended towards the ground floor. Onyx had informed him of Kate’s arrival but he’d decided to let her wait a few minutes. The delay was for his benefit really, to allow his swirling thoughts time to settle. He’d been busy enough the last few days between assisting Miss Brookes with her ritual and Mr Matthews’ attack but he found himself at something of a loose end later in the evenings. It had taken a day or two to realise, but it seemed he missed those late night lessons with Kate.
So when the issue with Onyx’s stolen powers had mysteriously resolved itself yesterday and Onyx mentioned the resolution had something of Kate about it he decided to call. Only to find out how she was coping in the aftermath, he told himself.
The doors to the elevator opened and Marcus gave a nod to the concierge, acknowledging his guest had arrived, then crossed the perfect marble floor. He stopped when he entered the bar. Kate sat with her back to him; the pale expanse of her bare skin framed by black satin. Taking a moment to compose himself he walked slowly up behind her. She turned to face him, revealing the exquisite antique jewellery that graced her ears and throat. The only incongruous thing was the empty cocktail glass that stood on the bar.
“Hello Kate. You look lovely.”
Kate accepted Marcus’ compliment with a smile as she turned to face him, letting her eyes linger across his impeccably dressed body for a moment before she spoke.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Marcus,” she said, brushing her hair back from her face. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And to see you.” Marcus sat on a barstool and motioned to the bartender. Marcus’ drink - a single malt whiskey, was placed next to him. “So how are things?”
“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you…” said Kate with a dry laugh. That was good she thought to herself, keep things as light as possible before they moved to more serious concerns. She pondered for a moment what to tell him… how could she even begin to explain everything that had happened to her in the past week since they had last met?
She inhaled and bit her lower lip in contemplation and then thought, *What the hell?* Marcus knew a lot about her already – more than most of her so-called friends at the moment. There seemed little reason to conceal anything from him.
“Let’s see…” she said thoughtfully, “One of my friends tried to kill himself, only after he tried to rip open a portal into some unknown hell dimension, and apart from being run ragged in the magic department I nearly died. Twice.” She smiled in amusement at the flicker of surprise that crossed Marcus’ face. “So, how’s your week been?”
“Oh the usual whirl of esoteric rituals, helping lost souls.” Marcus smirked, “Sometimes literally, and fighting off your assistants. That sort of thing. I’ll say one thing for Los Angeles… It isn’t boring.”
Marcus kept his tone as light as Kate’s had been but underneath it was a layer of concern. He wondered who had tried to kill themselves and what had almost killed Kate. It seemed they had much to discuss.
Kate was about to say something when suddenly there was a discreet ‘ahem’ as a young gentleman cleared his throat to gain their attention.
“Your table, is ready Mr Dalton,” he said efficiently with a slight nod of his head. “If you’d like to follow me?”
Kate slipped from her barstool and followed after the man, feeling the slightest touch of Marcus’ hand in the small of her back as he ‘guided’ her ahead of himself. They were led outside the main restaurant on to the terrace where several tables were set, lit only by sparse candlelight flickering in the darkness. As they were seated at an intimate table a cool breeze broke the heat of the night providing the diners with a welcome relief.
Kate leaned in a little as they were left on their own. The candlelight might be romantic but it was less than practical when you were trying to see the person seated opposite you.
“I actually wanted to ask,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “why you asked me out tonight?”
“You seemed distraught on Tuesday.” That was, Marcus knew, something of an understatement. “You’d pinned all your hopes on Emma and I wanted to see how… how you were coping.”
Marcus paused; well, he might as well lay the rest of the cards on the table. “There was a little trouble with Cole as well though it seems to have been resolved now. You were involved in it but I’m unclear on the details.”
“How did you-” began Kate and then she shook her head dismissively, already guessing at the answer. “I’m much better actually,” she admitted falsely to Marcus’ first enquiry. She didn’t want to get into all that just yet. “I don’t know I… I guess I finally realised what people have been telling me all along. Emma’s dead, and that’s that.”
Kate sighed, she’d made things sound much more simple than they actually were but she knew that if she started talking about how she felt and all the screwed up nonsense in her head she might never stop. There was no satisfactory end to any of this, that was the only truth she knew for certain. If she’d been successful in getting Emma back, there would have been a price to pay, if Cole had managed to divert that cost, Marcus would have rained his vengeance down on them all. Not having Emma in her life caused her indescribable pain, but she had managed to survive so far, despite reliving that feeling of loss not so long ago after Tash’s visit. But she had made it so far, she could continue to carry on.
“As for Cole…” Kate raised her gaze to meet Marcus’; his dark, thoughtful eyes glowed in the dim light. “That’s part of the reason why I’m here tonight. I don’t know exactly what he’s been doing these past few days, or how badly he managed to… inconvenience your aide. I do know that he’s no longer a threat… to anyone.”
Kate took a moment to consider how best to approach what she had to ask, placing her hands flat on the table in front of her. “I know there’s an unwritten rule about this kind of thing. Someone hurts you and you have to strike back to prove a point.” Kate inhaled deeply, pacing herself. “But I wanted to ask you not to. Cole… he’s just a boy and I can assure you that he is in no form a danger to you, or anyone.”
Marcus winced. “You’re correct. There is an unwritten rule about such things and I’m afraid young Cole has crossed it, not once, or even twice, but three times. The first had more impact on you, Kate, so I left any repercussions in your hands but…”
Marcus let a sigh escape his lips and he took a sip of water. “The other two have inconvenienced me personally. One of those may well have inadvertently helped an associate of mine and as such I’m willing to accept the difficulties it caused me. But the last? The attack on Onyx? I can’t ignore that. Cole must understand that such actions have consequences, not just in the use of magic but who such magic is used against.”
“I understand,” said Kate, removing her gaze and instead looking at her hands. “I understand the damage that Cole has caused, but he does realise the consequences of his actions, I know that he does. He’s been stripped of his power; he has nothing to defend himself with, Marcus…” Kate raised her eyes again, pleading with the man. She couldn’t let him hurt Cole, not after she’d promised to protect him.
“What kind of fight would that be? You against a mere child? You’re above that, I know you are.”
“I walk a particularly dark path, its denizens are generally unpleasant and quite often all they understand is force. Cole has insulted me and now you say he lacks the power to protect himself. What message does it send out that I refuse to chastise this boy?”
Marcus fixed Kate with a stern look, forestalling her response. “Don’t speak of mercy, Kate. These people don’t understand mercy, they see it as weakness and I can’t afford to be weak. Not only that but Onyx is an old and particularly favoured family retainer. She is much more than simply a servant. She has demanded recompense and I cannot honourably refuse her request.”
Kate closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the implications of that to wash over her. She realised that whatever she said would make little difference. Marcus was set on getting compensation for his losses and there seemed little chance of deterring him. That only left her with one option. She slowly opened her eyes again, remaining completely calm and composed.
“And this is your last word on the matter? There’s nothing that I could say or do that would change your mind?”
“Do nothing rash, Catherine. Cole will survive his punishment despite Onyx’s demands but he will be left with a permanent reminder of the costs involved in attacking me or mine.”
“I’ve no intention of doing anything rash, Marcus,” replied Kate, a little annoyed by his commanding tone, like he just expected her to drop it because he said so. “But I can’t abandon a promise, nor can I allow a defenceless child to be hunted down. You have your code, well I have mine too. I think it’s only fair to tell you that if you come after Cole, I will do everything in my power to protect him.”
“I understand.”
Marcus smiled because he actually did understand. Kate would protect the weak and harmless and forgive the hurts such people had done in the past. It was her essential nature but despite her protection of Cole he would not relinquish his need take action. Indeed it was quite likely that Dmitri had already moved on his request. After all, he had already spoken to him after discovering Cole’s attack on Amanda.
The tension that was continuing to build between them was abruptly shattered by the intervention of the waiter who arrived with the first course.
The food was laid out between them, but Kate couldn’t have been less interested. This night had never been about dinner, for either of them. It had just been a polite excuse, a justification for them meeting like this when really they had no business to. Maybe Jack was right, maybe… maybe… Maybe she was the biggest fool this side of the Atlantic!
*No,* thought Kate firmly. *This is about honour and reputation, not some stupid sense of superiority.* But Marcus was definitely full of pride and conceit, that much was evident in his every movement. Kate was so confused - about everything. She couldn’t think of what she was supposed to do next. She didn’t want Cole to get hurt, not after everything the boy had been through and she had promised… she’d promised to protect him.
Kate sighed and closed her eyes, resting her head against her hand. She was getting a headache.
*Curse the boy!* Cole’s interference had endlessly complicated so much including, it seemed, a potential friendship with Kate. He could not, however, back down from this, he had to do something about the teenager’s antics.
“Kate, I know you think I’m being needlessly petty and cruel but I simply can’t afford to ignore this. I realise as well that you don’t understand that but please, at least accept that this is something I have to do. The most I can say is that I will make only one attempt. Should you manage to discourage those I have placed on Cole’s trail then I will let the matter drop.”
He went on gently, “It is not what you wanted I know, but it is the best I can do.”
Kate opened her eyes and smiled half-heartedly. It certainly wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She wanted Marcus to forget the whole thing and just leave Cole be, but that, evidently, wasn’t going to happen.
“Well… I appreciate your honesty at any rate,” she said quietly, looking down at the plate in front of her with a slight sigh. “Though I have to admit, all this has kind of ruined my appetite.”
Two near misses by death had taken their toll on Kate and Marcus wasn’t going to let their disagreement stop Kate from eating. He did, however, realise that Kate had ordered something particularly rich and right now that wasn’t perhaps the best thing for her appetite.
A glance and a raised finger was all it took to attract the waiter and as the man walked over, Marcus spoke to Kate “Perhaps you’d prefer something simpler?”
Kate ‘ummmed’ indecisively, nodding in agreement though she wasn’t sure a change in the food she’d ordered would really make that much of a difference. When the waiter had gone again, Kate turned her attention back to Marcus.
“There’s just… quite a lot happening right now,” she explained. Her statement was an absolute understatement but there was so much uncertainty and speculation floating around that she didn’t really want to start mentioning specifics. “I wasn’t exactly honest before… things have been less than easy at home, for me at any rate. You can imagine what kind of response I got about Emma…”
Kate shook her head, as though trying to take back that last statement. “Actually Galen has been very… supportive, more than I deserve. But it just doesn’t feel…” Kate released a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know…”
She picked up her fork and turned over the grilled vegetable ravioli, cutting it into small, bite-sized pieces with the edge of the utensil. “I think there’s something really wrong with me.”
“No, I don’t think so. You’ve been hurt deeply and for a long time the hope of Emma was all that was keeping you afloat. It’ll take time for everything to right itself. It sounds to me as if Galen is doing what he feels he must but really, have you talked to him about it?”
Kate shook her head, “I’m not sure I know how to any more… besides, how can I talk to him when I don’t know what the problem is myself? You’re not part of that Marcus, you wouldn’t know if I was different or not. But everyone else… they expect me to be the same, the same old reliable Kate, and I do care about them, my friends, my family, I care about what I’ve put them through. But it’s not… it’s not the same, I’m not the same…”
She looked up at Marcus and frowned a little, “And now I’ve said too much and made you uncomfortable. Well, you wanted to know how I was holding up; I guess now you have your answer.”
“So I do…” *So I do and it’s not well…* Marcus couldn’t see how cutting herself off from her husband would help her but it wasn’t his place to force her where she didn’t want to go. Unfortunately between the whole matter with Cole and now this admission of emotional withdrawal, Marcus didn’t have many conversational gambits to fall back on. Instead he slowly ate his food, allowing the silence to draw out. Hopefully Kate would feel inclined to fill it and he could respond.
Kate also ate in silence. This evening really wasn’t going how she’d planned. For a start, Marcus was still hell bent on getting his revenge on Cole, even if he would only make one try. But then who knew? The boy had already tried to take his own life; he might find whatever Marcus had planned a welcome relief…
She forced another forkful of food into her mouth and swallowed with all the enthusiasm of someone eating at gunpoint. Kate struggled to think of something to say to break the awkward silence that had dragged on too long. The trouble was, the only thing she could think of were the horrible accusations Jack had made about Marcus and his family.
“Well, I think I’ve rambled on long enough,” mumbled Kate a little uneasily. “Maybe we could talk about you for a change? I only know a little about your family - the Daltons are quite close to nobility I gather?”
“Um yes,” said Marcus a little unsettled by the turn of the conversation. “We held a patent of nobility up until the early eighteen hundreds. A barony, I forget exactly where.”
“And your father… he still lives in Hong Kong?”
Marcus’s entire face stilled. “Yes, my father is still in Hong Kong.” For probably the first time other than the night of the ritual Marcus voice held a harsh tone. It was a warning to Kate to not pursue this topic but he wasn’t sure she’d get the message.
Kate could sense the sudden change in Marcus’ demeanour but she suddenly found herself wanting to elicit some kind of emotional response in this man who had managed to keep himself locked away so tightly despite the fact that they had been through so much together.
Slowly Kate wet her lips, her breathing growing a little heavier as she felt the full force of Marcus’ acrimonious intonation. “I… had heard certain …news, pertaining to your father… rumours, I was hoping you might be able to refute.”
"My father is a drunkard, womaniser and drug addict. A wastrel and a spendthrift. Is there anything else you'd like to know about him, Catherine?" Marcus replied coldly. She had heard rumours, had she? Fine, let her know the truth.
“Four days after I was born my mother hung herself because my father was found in the bed of another woman. Are there any other rumours you’d like me to discuss?”
Kate suddenly felt mortified, how could she have been so rude? “Oh Marcus, I’m sorry,” she said softly. She felt like she should offer some gesture of compassion but the emotions radiating off the man warned her to keep her distance. “I didn’t mean to… I mean, well, my father found out I was coming to see you and he said he’d heard things, about your family…” Kate faltered, trying to explain but as the words left her mouth they just sounded so stupid.
“I didn’t want them to be true, I mean I like you Marcus, very much. You’ve been very… kind to me, with Emma and everything.” Kate looked confused, “I know you’re not exactly an angel but you have been good to me and I guess I didn’t want to hear a bad word against you, or your family. I swear I didn’t know about your mother, really. I’m so sorry.”
“A bad word? We were nobility but we weren’t rich, not until The Watchers forced us out. Necromancers aren’t people you want hanging around the mother country. Do you know how we made our fortune, Catherine? We sold opium to the Chinese, thousands and thousands of pounds of the stuff. We invested it wisely, all that drug money. And 150 years will wash away the stain of just about anything, but this hotel? The car? That wonderful meal you’ve just eaten? Paid for by the misery of some addict dead and gone over a century ago. So no, don’t hear a bad word against the Daltons.”
Kate shook her head in shame; she’d really stuck her foot in it this time. “I should never have mentioned it… Marcus, I don’t even care about where your family made their money, I just wanted to know about you. I’ve met people from your line of work in the past, but you’re different.”
Marcus seemed to scoff but Kate reached across the small table and took hold of his hand tightly. “You’re different, to me,” she said earnestly, quickly letting go of Marcus’ hand before he ripped it free or beat her to death with a bread stick or something.
“I can’t explain why I care, I just do. I guess it’s because you’ve been there for me when you didn’t even have to. You weren’t a friend, I barely knew you. I had friends and they turned their backs on me, they didn’t want to know, and there you were, a stranger, a man whose company I had ‘paid’ for. And you cared more than they did, people I’ve known for years. I didn’t want to hurt you, or cause you pain, I just wanted to know more about the man who has been so good to me during the past few weeks.”
Marcus took a breath and closed his eyes for a second, letting himself hear just the beating of his heart. It slowed and when he felt a little calmer Marcus opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on his companion. “I’m sorry for that, you caught me by surprise. My father and the family are a sensitive topic.”
The familiar self-deprecating smile appeared on his face. “Sometimes I think I know more about dealing with demons than humans. Onyx’s fault, I guess. So what do you want to know, Kate? Ask and I'll try and warn you about the unpleasant topics.”
Kate smiled weakly, glad that she hadn’t completely offended him. She really did like his company. It was just a shame that she had to keep seeing him in secret like this, though she had to admit it excited her a little. Right now she liked that feeling, she liked not knowing whether Marcus would smile or turn on that brooding, repine glare that could freeze a person where they sat.
“Onyx… she’s more than just your bodyguard isn’t she?” asked Kate carefully, though feeling a little more relaxed from Marcus’ open invitation. She sipped at her glass of red wine that had come with their main course, feeling that warm sensation travel low into her stomach. “I mean…” she said suddenly blushing at the unspoken implication, a smile threatening to brighten her glowing features. “She means more to you than just a companion?”
Marcus nodded and gave a wry grin. “Yeah you could say that. Garland didn’t have a great deal of time for his newborn son and heir.” Marcus shrugged and topped up Kate’s glass. “There was a procession of governesses and such like but really Onyx was the only ‘parent’ I ever knew.” Marcus kept his smile to himself. The sweet young thing Onyx inhabited right now bore little resemblance to the stern taskmaster of his youth but it was only a small deception.
Kate nodded, but inwardly she cringed as she realised her glaring error. She closed her eyes momentarily, drawing in an awkward breath. “That’s why you’re so protective of her, and with Cole…” Kate felt quite awful, she still didn’t agree with Marcus about Cole, but she could understand now why he felt so deeply about it. He might have dressed his motives up behind codes and honour and the like but when it came right down to it Cole had attacked the only real ‘parent’ he’d ever had in his life.
Kate remembered all too clearly seeing Darian in that weakened and pathetic state after Cole had left him for dead. She’d had to stay with him a long while that night, healing him and tending to his needs. It had been an arduous night and there had been a few real moments when Kate had believed that Darian might not make it until the morning. If Onyx had been in a similar state… a creature who had been more of a parent to Marcus than his real father had ever been… No, Kate still couldn’t condone his decision to get revenge but at least, at the very basic of levels, all Marcus wanted to do was protect his family, and she couldn’t condemn him for that.
Kate held his gaze sadly. “I didn’t realise, I mean, I could tell there was a bond there I just… I didn’t know.”
“No, you didn’t.” Marcus had watched Kate’s face as the realisation had set in; underneath the understanding there had been determination. Kate understood his relationship with Onyx but she wouldn’t let it dissuade her from her meeting her own obligations. Marcus found he could respect that even if he was unhappy with the situation.
“I don’t think you’ve mentioned you father before. Are you close?” An unsubtle inquiry but Marcus wanted to know who had speaking about him to Kate.
“I guess so,” said Kate uncertainly. “It’s a little complicated. My own mother died when I was very little and I was left in the care of one of her coven. I didn’t even know my father was still alive until last year. But we’ve grown close. Things are a little strange sometimes though, I think he still sees me as his five year old daughter.”
“And the terrible necromancer Marcus Dalton isn’t fit company for his little girl.” Marcus’ tone was surprisingly free of bitterness, especially considering how quickly his ire had been raised by Kate’s earlier questions.
Kate couldn’t help but blush slightly in embarrassment, feeling her cheeks redden even in the dim candlelight. “He’s just overprotective. I went through a really bad time not long ago and he wasn’t around to help, I think he still feels bad about it.” Kate took another sip of her wine, setting the glass back down on the table thoughtfully. “And like I said earlier, things between Galen and I are quite… unsettled at the moment. To be honest, I’m not too sure he’s all that bothered that you’re a necromancer, more that you’re a Dalton.”
Kate could sense Marcus’ ire building at that last comment and so Kate laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Actually, it’s probably something much more mundane. The way he was questioning me earlier I think Jack thought the two of us might be having a torrid affair or something.”
*No, that would be Amanda, despite her protestations she had left her old life behind.* “I’m not in the habit of seducing vulnerable married women.”
This time Marcus couldn’t quite keep the bite out of his voice. “Feel free to assure him I am not my father.” Marcus picked up his wine. “I’m afraid if you were harbouring any hopes in that direction your virtue is safe in my hands - agreeable as your company is.”
Marcus’ tone and mannerisms made the comment lighthearted but underneath it was a serious message, though he wasn’t completely sure it was only for Kate’s father’s ears.
Kate felt a little shocked despite Marcus’ facetious tone, and a confused frown wrinkled her smooth forehead. “Of course not… I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression Marcus? I very much enjoy your company but anything else… I think I’ve made enough mistakes lately.”
“My apologies if I’ve offended,” offered Marcus, equally as hasty. “I thought it best to clear the air completely. I enjoy your company. I wouldn’t want other people’s misconceptions to colour that.”
It was not Kate who’d made the mistake and Marcus suppressed a sigh. Sometimes he did or said completely the wrong thing. It was so much easier being mysterious.
Kate shuffled uneasily in her chair. The air might have been cleared but now she couldn’t help thinking that she must have been putting out some kind of signals to make Marcus speak so candidly. “Perhaps we shouldn’t have met like this, I mean, alone. It does give the wrong impression.” Kate shook her head, suddenly rising to her feet with a quickness that made her head spin even though she’d only had a small amount to drink. She fumbled in her purse for a handful of twenties which she dropped on the table in her haste. “I think… I think perhaps I should go now…”
“Kate, please sit down. I’m sorry.” When she hesitated, Marcus carried on, “We’re just two friends enjoying a meal together, nothing more. If others want to read beyond that point it isn’t our concern. Please finish your meal. If you’re still uncomfortable then I can drop you off at home.”
Kate sat back down but she didn’t feel any more comfortable. In fact she felt incredibly self-conscious of every move she made or word that she might say. But she had so few friends left right now, she couldn’t afford to lose one over a misunderstanding. Plus she really did like Marcus, she found his mystery enchanting and every new meeting was a challenge to learn more about him. Besides, he was one of the few people she knew in Los Angeles that was the same age as herself. As much as she loved her father and especially her husband they did sometimes have the annoying habit of talking to her like she was a child.
“No… I’m sorry, I guess I was just a bit sensitive about it, I mean I’ve made a mistake like that in the past, a stupid mistake and I still hate myself for the pain I caused my husband. I know we have our problems but I would never hurt him like that again.”
“Oh… I knew you were having problems but I hadn’t realised. Kate, I promise you I will never place you in a situation like that.” Marcus spoke with utter sincerity. He was at least aware of the problems that Kate had and unlike the situation with Amanda he would not be either the cause or consequence of any deterioration in Kate’s marriage.
“Just friends who enjoy each other’s company, nothing more.” Marcus picked up the bills Kate had cast onto the table and smoothed them out before placing them by her hand. “I realise you have no desire to be beholden to me but I did invite you to dinner. Should there be a next time, perhaps you can pay.”
Kate smiled uneasily, looking down at the money that lay by her hand before returning her gaze to Marcus. “Yes…” she said with a degree of uncertainly, “Well… I guess that depends on whether you still want to be associated with an emotional wreck of a witch.”
“You’ve just had a tough time lately. Anyone would be fragile after the battering you’ve had. And I would love to meet with you again no matter how crazy you appear.”
Kate laughed aloud, resting back in her chair a little more comfortably as she regarded Marcus with a great deal more ease and smiling contentedly. “I’ll remind you of that the next time I use your shoulder to cry on.”
daye returns to the council
*** Sunday, May 6, 2007 early morning ***
*** The Watchers’ Council Los Angeles headquarters ***
Daye stared up at the massive house, not entirely sure how she'd managed to get there. She'd left the house last night, her mind a jumble of voices and wild thoughts. She'd wandered around the city, not sure where she could or should go. But somehow she finally found her way here. The Watchers had been her only family for so long, and it seemed only natural that her instinct would be to turn to them when she felt there was nowhere else left to go.
"They can help me... they have to be able to help me," Daye whispered hoarsely to herself.
*You shouldn't be here, girl. The Council is not to be trusted, remember?*
*Maybe... maybe you should go back. You can't go home... Maybe Nikolai, or even that Dalton character...*
*No! She doesn't need him either. You've got your power back, Daye. You should just go back to your studies. You don't need anyone.*
*Stop trying to convince her to turn her back on the world.*
*Stop encouraging her to be weak!*
"Please, just stop..." Daye was unaware that tears were making tracks down her dirt-smudged cheeks. She had her hands over her ears as she begged her mothers for quiet.
Tash rode slowly down the street towards the Watcher’s house, the van close behind her. Delancre had positively insisted on using his own people for the transport of Tash’s ‘finished product’ and Tash had found herself unable to justify using the independent contractor she’d used initially. Still, she made damn sure that whoever was driving never got to see her perform her rituals, so he couldn’t report any details back to his master.
Tonight she’d raised another handful of zombies to add to the growing number of undead soldiers that now served in Delancre’s army. At least now his mages had given Delancre the all-clear on the control issue. They were generalists, not specialists, and they’d stood no chance of detecting the subtleties of Marcus’ spell. That, and the fact that Tash’s own thoughts were shielded by Kate’s spell, meant she could start to relax a little, let go of the tight rein she’d had to keep over the past couple of months.
But she was tired in another way tonight. She’d raised all the corpses she’d had stashed away, and was now working on fresher material. And her supply of llamas was beginning to thin out. Soon she’d have to look further afield, since she’d cleaned out most of the Californian farms of their available stock. At least now she was only going through two or three a night, rather than the twenty of her first mammoth effort. But the nightly rituals were taking their toll on her, and she vowed that after she’d dropped this lot off she’d go home and sleep until dinner time.
Thinking fond thoughts of her soft bed, Tash barely noticed the pathetic scrap of humanity that sat huddled in the dirt beside the gates. But as she pulled up to press the intercom button she spotted the figure. It was female, apparently, dressed in a bedraggled nightgown and slippers, one of which was hanging off her foot, and her hair thoroughly dishevelled. She was muttering to herself, rocking slowly back and forth, and through all the dirt and grime Tash was surprised to recognise Daye.
She waved the van to a stop and dismounted from her bike to stand over the pitiful woman. “Well,” she said, “Just look at what the cat’s dragged in. What the hell happened to you?”
Daye glanced up as Tash's cold words broke through the incessant shouting in her head. She looked up at the other woman, but could hardly focus. Daye reached out a grime covered hand and grabbed hold of Tash's pant leg.
"Please, I need to see Lord Delancre... I need to see the First Elder," Daye choked out. "No... Shut up... I can't listen to you... please... no more... no more..." Daye petered off into her mad ramblings once again, still clutching desperately onto Tash.
Shaking her leg free of the mad woman, Tash put her hands on her hips and stared down at Daye. “I seem to recall last time you were here you threw magic about left, right and centre, and basically told Delancre he could stuff himself up his own arsehole. I think you may have already worn out your welcome, especially now you’re looking like this,” she sneered derisively.
"No please," Daye moaned. She was sobbing uncontrollably now. "Please... help me... please..."
Tash almost picked Daye up bodily to throw her out into the street, but then she wondered if perhaps Daye could be useful to her, even in this state. Softening her features into something friendlier, she bent down to Daye.
“Ok,” she agreed reluctantly, “just suppose I did let you in… what do you want to see Delancre about?”
She wanted to know for her own sake, but to the keen-eyed demon sitting in the van mere feet away Tash knew the question could look like she was trying to protect Delancre from a potential assassin or the suchlike.
“Well?” Tash asked again when Daye didn’t answer straight away. “I might let you in, but only if you tell me why you’re here.”
"I can't make them stop," Daye finally managed to focus on Tash's face. "Tash? Oh, Goddess, Tash... I can't think. The voices won't stop and I... I'm so tired. I thought I was better. I went home, but they found me... I need help... please, Tash, I need help."
Better? That one word cut into Tash. Once she’d learned of the Hyde virus, it was clear that Daye was one of the afflicted – and fairly strongly afflicted too. Was that what she thought she was better from? Or was it just these ‘voices’? From what the woman said, that was what she really meant. Tash told herself it was only her paranoia making her think that everyone already knew of Hyde. Besides, if Daye did say anything about Hyde to Delancre in Tash’s presence, Tash could easily pass it off as the ravings of a madwoman.
“All right,” she nodded, “I’ll tell him you’re here. But if he says you’re to go away I’ll have to make sure you do. Understand?”
Daye nodded, still choking on her tears. She slumped back on the ground to wait for Delancre's decision.
*Why I put up with these snivelling people for so long is beyond me,* Tash thought as she stepped around Daye and pushed the intercom.
“Yeah, it’s me, Tash... Hang on Chrell, before you open the gates you’d better let Delancre know that Amanda Blaise is crying on his doorstep and looking like a mess. She’s begging to see him… I don’t care if he’s still at breakfast, I’m kicking her out onto the street if he doesn’t want to see her, ok?... Yeah, send the new guy. Delancre can chop his head off for having his crumpets interrupted… Yeah, I’ll wait.”
Tash sighed heavily and glanced down at Daye. “We’ll find out in a minute, all right?”
Daye nodded listlessly. She couldn't begin to figure out what she'd do if Tash did decide to "kick her onto the street".
After a long moment the intercom crackled back to life and Tash answered it, “Uh huh. All right.”
She glanced down at Daye, grabbed her by the elbow and hauled her unceremoniously to her feet. “It’s your lucky day, he wants to see you,” she said as the gates slowly swung open.
Not trusting Daye to be able to maintain her balance on her bike – and not really wanting the woman in her current unwashed state on her bike in the first place – Tash walked her up the driveway, wheeling the bike beside her. She let the van go past, confident the driver would drop his ‘cargo’ off at the usual location, and headed for the front doors of the mansion.
Daye stumbled as they climbed the steps, and Tash shook her head wearily. All she wanted was to sleep after a long night’s hunting and then raising the dead, and now she had to contend with this. “Come on then,” she encouraged roughly and half-dragged, half-escorted Daye towards Delancre’s study.
Daye did her best to try and pull herself together as they approached Delancre's study. She knew the last time she'd been there she'd said and done some pretty rotten things, but she needed the man's help now. Once he'd been like a father to her, and Daye couldn't help but believe that he wouldn't turn his back on her now, despite what had happened between them.
As Tash pushed open the door to the study, Daye raised a hand to her head and made a useless attempt to smooth her matted hair. She drew a steadying breath and struggled to stay coherent as they came before Delancre, who sat on the sofa sipping tea.
“Well, well, Miss Blaise,” he said acidly, “And what brings you here on this once-delightful morning? Perhaps you wish to try to murder me in my own house?” As Tash turned to leave he lifted his head and spoke past Daye’s shoulder. “Please stay, Natasha. After all, I may require a bodyguard,” he said sarcastically.
At Delancre's words, Daye wanted to just break down. She'd been so sure that at least here someone would be willing to help her. She could see now that she'd been wrong. "I... I'm sorry," she whispered, hoarsely. "I shouldn't have bothered..."
*I told you they wouldn't help you!*
*Be quiet! Can't you see she knows that now.*
*I've warned you, old woman, stop telling me what to do!*
*Or what? You have no power here, Mariah.*
*Make her go away, Amanda. Together we could do anything. You don't need this ninny.*
*She'll never join with you. Amanda is a good girl!*
Daye was lost again in the shouts that echoed in her mind. She couldn't control them or herself. She tumbled to the floor, clutching her head and moaning.
Tash blinked at the jumble that shouted at her from Daye’s head. “Hmph,” she grunted, “she really does have voices in her head.”
As Delancre rose to investigate his ex-protégé’s condition Tash told him, “She told me out front that she wanted someone to stop the voices. Do you think it’s the black magic that’s done it to her?”
Shaking his head, Delancre muttered, “I’m not sure…” but his mind was on other things than explaining himself to Natasha. Possibilities began to open themselves up to him as her surveyed Amanda’s prone form, and he wondered if he couldn’t use this turn of events to his advantage.
Making a decision he straightened, “Natasha, send a servant to ensure there are guest quarters available for Miss Blaise. We will be taking her under our care.”
nightwalker seeks daye in her madness
*** Sunday, May 6, 2007, 5 pm ***
*** The Watchers’ Council L.A. headquarters ***
Nightwalker slipped silently down the hallway and into the suite at the end of the hall, careful to make sure he wasn’t seen. These last few weeks he’d become more and more sure of the truth, and he knew that the knowledge he now possessed placed him in direct opposition to Delancre and his loyal followers.
Nightwalker had heard only about an hour ago that Amanda had been found outside the gates this morning and brought to this room to be treated. The rumors in the house ranged from her being drunk to her being mad. Nightwalker had to know the truth of this for himself. He had waited, leaving the practice field when most of the others had gone off for meals or recreation. Normally he would have returned to the small room he kept at the rear of the house, but tonight was different.
He stood inside the doorway of the suite, listening to make sure Amanda was truly alone. He could hear her speaking in a tired, agitated voice, but no one else responded to her words and at last Nightwalker decided the woman was talking to herself. He hesitantly entered the bedroom, to find her lying on the bed; eyes wide open, words coming out of her mouth, but her attention focused entirely elsewhere.
Nightwalker approached the bed and stared down at Daye lying there. She was looking through him or past him, he couldn’t quite tell. All he knew for sure was that something was terribly wrong with her.
Daye was lost in her own mind. Her mothers had not stopped talking, not for a moment. They argued with her and with one another. She couldn’t think, couldn’t even be sure where she was or why.
*Oh, look. Is that… Nightwalker?*
*It’s Ryan. His name is Ryan. He’s Amanda’s first love, you know?*
*I thought he died. How interesting. Do you think he’ll get us out of here?*
*Well, considering he was your infernal servant last I knew, I’d say it’s unlikely he’ll help Amanda now.*
*You’re right. Amanda, you better pull yourself together. He might mean you harm.*
*Speak to him, Amanda. Don’t do anything rash.*
*No, fool. She should take the initiative. She can surprise him… catch him off balance.*
*It would be wrong to just attack him. He might not be here for the reasons you assume he is.*
“Stop…please,” Daye sobbed, her hands coming up to cover her ears. She struggled for clarity, her eyes finally focusing on the Nightwalker hovering over her. “Ryan? Is that you? No, that can’t be you. You’re dead. You’re just another hallucination, right? I’ve gone mad.”
Daye sighed. “I really wish I wasn’t mad.”
“Amanda…?” Nightwalker bent forward, placing a soothing hand on her forehead. She was feverish and so very pale. “It’s all right. You’re not mad.” *At least, I hope not.* “I am here. I’m no hallucination.”
Daye grabbed onto Nightwalker’s hand, her grip desperate. “You… you’re real? You’ve come to help me? No, that’s impossible… you’re a hallucination… a figment… you’re dead… Galen killed you…”
Daye’s tone was sad. “I’m sorry he killed you. It’s my fault. I thought you’d been killed long ago. They told me you were dead. You think I hurt you. I could never hurt you. I loved you.”
Tears spilled silently down Daye’s face as she babbled on. “I wish I’d made you believe that. You were so angry. You tried to hurt me, but you didn’t. You gave me Maia… my sweet Maia… my baby… our baby…”
*Maia… my vessel. She could have been a goddess. The living embodiment of my power. Leave this foul place. Take me to Maia, Amanda. We can rule the world.*
*She loves her daughter. She’d never give her up to evil.*
“I want… Stop! Maia is mine… never…” Daye’s eyes filled with terror. She pleaded with Nightwalker. “Don’t let them take her. Save Maia. Help me, Ryan. Help me save Maia. Help me, please.”
*I wish I could,* he thought. *I wish I knew how.*
Daye’s grip on his hand was tight, but at her touch Nightwalker felt a familiar tingling. This was the woman he loved… the woman Delancre had stolen from him. Up until this moment, he had still harbored some doubt, but no more. This was Amanda… his Amanda. The Daye to his endless night. Somehow, he knew, whatever was happening to her, it had to be Delancre’s doing. The man had tortured him, changed him, but worst of all, he’d robbed Ryan of his happiness, of his life. And now, Daye… she was lying there looking like death, and her mind was shattered.
Nightwalker sat on the edge of the bed and gathered Daye up in his arms. He cradled her protectively. “I don’t know how to help you,” he said. “I… what’s happened to you?”
Daye heard his words from a long way off. Her mothers were rising once again.
*You see there? He wants to help. He’s changed.*
*Oh, great! He’s gone all soft and squishy on us. Well, that’s not gonna be much help.*
*Why do you have to scoff at the good things? You really are an evil brat!*
*Stop calling me brat, you old hag!*
*Why should I? It fits.*
*I could kill you, you useless witch.*
*You wish you could, you mean.*
Nightwalker watched the light of recognition fade from Daye’s eyes. She was mumbling again, arguing with voices only she could hear. He wanted to do something to help her. For the first time since he’d come back, he felt life surge in his breast. He had a reason, a purpose again. If there was any way he could help her, any way to make Delancre pay, then his resurrection would be worth the price.
drew vents
*** Sunday, May 6, 2007, 11:30 pm ***
*** Daye’s house ***
Drew stood just in the entryway of the house, his head down. He could hear Sam and Maia approaching him from the hallway, and a part of him wanted to just turn and run. He’d been out all day, calling to check in every couple of hours, hoping against hope that Amanda would pick up the phone. She never had. Finally, an hour ago, Sam had told him to come home. As much as he’d wanted to argue, Drew knew he couldn’t keep going forever. He’d been scouring the streets for hours. He couldn’t remember eating anything all day, and he knew that Maia was asking for him, so he’d come back.
Drew didn’t know what to say to his little girl. She wouldn’t understand. How could she when he didn’t understand himself? He’d awoken in the middle of the night last night, in an empty bed. At first he’d tried to convince himself that Amanda had simply got up to check on Maia or to get a snack or anything but what he’d known in the pit of his stomach was the truth.
Amanda was gone again. It was like a cruel joke. He’d been given one measly day, one day of relief, one day of happiness, and now he was alone again. It would have been better if she’d never come back. How was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to keep going on after this?
This time was so much worse. Amanda had sneaked out in the middle of the night. She hadn’t taken anything with her. As far as he could tell, she’d left in her nightgown. She hadn’t taken her car. He figured she was somewhere on foot, but he didn’t even have a clue where.
The first time she’d left, Drew had found her quickly. He’d known where she was and that she was safe. This time it was totally different. Drew had gone to the apartment. There’d been no sign of her there. He’d forced his way in, and although the inside of that place he’d once had been so familiar to him, it was now unrecognizable. Drew felt so uncomfortable there. It was visible proof of the other life Daye had been living recently.
“Why?” Drew said aloud. “Why did I just take her back? What the hell is wrong with me? I should have known this could happen again. I should have seen that she was still not right.”
Drew couldn’t get his mind around what was happening now. He had let her back into his life without hesitation. He knew she was sick, but this kind of thing kept happening to them. He could see it now. Again and again, the world of monsters and madness crept in on them. Would they ever have a chance for happiness? Could he just go on?
Standing in the apartment earlier that day where they’d shared so many joyous memories, surrounded by this twisted version of what Drew had once shared with Amanda, he had been forced to really face what she’d done. Drew had looked upon the evidence, clothes scattered about. The remnants of her sexual debaucheries and her magical deprivations had been spread out before him, physical confirmation of all his worst imaginings. It had driven him a little mad.
Drew had lashed out, unleashing his fury, his dismay, and his disappointment on the trappings of Amanda’s secret life. He’d torn the apartment apart, not really aware or in control of himself. He’d raged and cried, screamed and wept. Finally, breathless, he’d stood in the center of his rampant destruction and simply felt lost. Amanda was lost and so was he. Then, his cell phone had chimed and he’d answered it. Sam’s tentative voice asking for an update had grounded Drew. He’d left quickly afterwards and continued his search.
“No luck?” Sam’s voice broke into his desolate reverie.
Drew shook his head, looking up at Sam and the small girl cradled in the other man’s arms. He pushed down his anger and sadness, his frustration and helplessness. He mustered a hopeful smile for them both.
“No, but I’ll find her,” Drew promised. “I’ll find her and I’ll bring her home.”
Sam nodded. He could hear the lie in Drew’s voice, but for the sake of Maia, he went along with it. “Sure,” he said.
Drew moved slowly up the hall, taking Maia from Sam and cuddling her close. He was angry and he was hurt, but he loved Amanda. He loved her and he didn’t want to be without her, so he would soldier on… for her… for his family… for himself.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Flashback***
Tuesday, April 24th, 2007 - 19:27
A cool breeze blew right up beneath Reah’s coat, sending shivers down her spine despite her arms wrapped tightly about herself. There was no stalking of the back streets tonight, no lurking in dark alleys. She wasn’t too sure where she was exactly, but something as trivial as that was the least of what bothered her.
Most of the street traffic passed her straight by without a second glance. On occasion she’d bumped into someone in a hurry or just out of plain callousness, but anything they had to say back to her if they bothered wasn’t paid any mind.
Reah could see these walks becoming something of a ritual after every night she finished up at the Armoury now, giving her a chance to escape everyone else and just clear her mind - not that much clearing was ever achieved. She’d become well accustomed to wearing a perpetual frown, especially since Cameron had visited her last Saturday, which was how ever many days ago now. Her encounter with Kate the Friday night beforehand had helped in preparing her nerves for his visit too.
Whenever she thought back to the fight they had Reah couldn’t help but feel her insides twist with the memory of what she’d said to the other woman. At the same time she was still pretty pissed off at what Kate had said to her, and when it all came down to it, if she found herself re-enacting that same night again, she probably wouldn’t change a thing she’d said - however much she wished she could learn to hold her tongue.
What was done was done, though, and she’d found herself at the front door of Damen’s run-down shit-box of an apartment on Saturday night as soon as she flipped the closed sign on the store. He wasn’t there, oddly enough, which caused an anxious feeling in her gut - it wasn’t exactly as though he had much of a life. In the end she’d figured he was probably out on some job and left it at that, slugging her feet drearily down the rotted stairwell with her head in a muddle of confusion. Why did she even go there in the first place?
It didn’t matter either way any more. Her fist was suddenly pounding firmly on the old worn down door. Again.
Inside, a chill breeze swirled over the bare floorboards of the hollow apartment, disturbed only by a single starved rat skittering across a layer of dust settling steadily over the passing time as the room continued to exist, deserted.
Reah let go of a soft sigh up at the patch of mould she could see in the hallway ceiling that seemed to grow bigger every day since the first time she remembered coming back here with Damen. She didn’t remember much of that drunken night, but for some reason the mould stayed with her. First impressions… Right impression.
Retreating for what had to be the fourth night in a row back down the stairs again, Reah rubbed her stomach uneasily. She was beginning to feel sick. For someone to slip so completely off her radar was… unheard of! If she wanted to find someone and put her mind to it, she could generally find them within a few days. Hell, she’d found Blackthorn with no more than a whisper and rough description. It was all just something else to add onto her troubles.
Quin wasn’t proving to be any easier to handle. She could barely look at the girl any more: it was as though Reah’d failed her in some way, hadn’t managed to build up her defences enough to protect herself. Surprisingly she hadn’t gone out seeking revenge on all the staff at Quin’s school; she knew it’d only make things worse. And Reah dared not bring it up with her cousin - if she thought things were bad enough now…
No. Instead she just kept walking on, continued on with her life as though nothing had changed. She continued training Quin, possibly even a bit harder despite what she’d been told - she still couldn’t believe it. But if she let go of routine now, who knows how badly things could implode on themselves?
She had to carry on.
Just then, a car that had pulled up to a very slow roll beside her gave a toot of their horn that caught her attention.
“Need a ride?” Cameron was leaning out of the patrol car with his arm resting out its open window.
Reah just stared at him for a moment without blinking, then turned her head stiffly to peer back down the never ending road. The harsh neon light of Bob’s Bar was flickering on and off somewhere out there in the cold night with a pitcher of warm, flat beer waiting for her - she could picture as much clearly in her head.
However, after another long moment’s deliberation, she finally turned back to Cameron with the slightest nod of her head and stepped down into the gutter.
She was down, but she wasn’t that far gone yet.
***Present Day
Thursday, May 3rd, 2007 - 08:14am
Cameron Laiko’s House
Reah quirked her head to the side to check the digital clock blinking away the seconds on the microwave. She hadn’t moved once since she’d sat down to eat her burnt piece of soggy toast, but she’d at least managed to eat it, even if it did take all of ten minutes.
With a sigh she pushed back against the bench, the scraping of the stool legs against the floor snatching Cameron’s attention up from the newspaper, his own piece of half eaten toast held up in his hand while his cheeks puffed out stupidly with an only half chewed mouthful still remaining.
“Myou ngoing?”
“Yeah,” Reah said, nodding solemnly as she scraped up a set of keys. “I should get back home. I was only supposed to be going out last night to grab some milk, and Quin needs to get to school.”
Cameron swallowed. “Fair enough. Probably see you later then?”
“Yeah,” Reah smiled half heartedly, her eyes flicking briefly over the small girl’s head poking cunningly around the doors edge behind the unsuspecting Cam. “Probably.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Flashback***
Sunday, April 29th, 2007 - 04:12am
The pair that walked down the street looked like any normal pair of friends who were out on the town. Both dark haired; a taller man who wore jeans and a sweater, while the woman with him wore a casual pantsuit. Whenever they moved through the normal human populace, they couldn’t believe that they were able to get away with it. If only they knew. “What I want to know is, what were they even thinking?” Steve the not-so-ancient-evil was in the middle of saying.
“Probably something to the effect of, ‘It’s Hugh Jackman without his shirt’,” his longtime friend and companion, Elaine, replied. Having just got out of the movie, she could appreciate the effect.
“I understand that, but you would think that they could have at least a little more respect for the Classics,” Steve said, protesting the butchery of Homer they’d just witnessed. “Troy was bad enough, but this… I mean, they actually had the gods coming down in earthly form this time, but did you see the way Athena was dressed?”
“Funny, I thought you liked her outfit.”
Steve blanched at the implication.
“You couldn’t take your eyes off it.”
“That’s not the point! Ok, she looked hot, but she’s supposed to be a virgin!”
“So what, she was supposed to wear a Parka?”
“It would have been a nice start,” Steve replied, with his voice in a lower tone, getting a look more odd than anything else from Elaine. “Well, come on! You saw how revealing her outfit was. Aphrodite would wear something like that.”
“So, what, every woman who has never had sex isn’t allowed to dress attractively?”
“Well, no, but-”
Suddenly Steve felt the ground coming up to meet his face, and was afraid he’d said too much. When he worked his way back to his feet, he saw that there was a group of vampires closing in on the pair of them; three to be exact, pushing them up against a wall.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Steve muttered, shaking his head.
***
She'd been tracking the vampires for some time now, assuming that a group of three wandering around so comfortably might be a part of some gang they could lead her to. She stopped just after rounding a corner they'd turned about and pulled herself back behind it for cover as she watched the three bloodsuckers close in on a couple walking in the opposite direction.
She frowned at first, noticing that only one of the two coming her way was actually human while the other was as stone cold as the vampires. At first it seemed a simple case of one vampire leading her prey into a trap - but then why would the three vampires she'd been following suddenly turn around and attack them both? This forced her to wonder just what the hell was going on. Her second guess would have been that the guy was primary to some major deal and the vampiress had been appointed to see to his protection... but then why would someone with as terrible fighting skill as that ever be considered a worthy guardian?
Appalled with what she was witnessing, Reah swiftly skipped into a sprint and decided to start her training prematurely, although this time she'd go for the quick kill as opposed to honing her skill and precision. A pity, she'd been looking forward to dragging this one out, too.
Steve shook his head slowly in disbelief. They were being attacked by vampires, who had probably decided that he would qualify as a good meal, and to hell with the fact that he had a vampire with him.
“Wow, that’s a good illusion,” Elaine remarked, pointing at the woman who joined the battle, quickly doing away with one vampire before getting the attention of the other two.
With a look of confusion on his face, Steve looked over the young blonde woman… he couldn’t help but admire her form and grace in fighting.
“That’s not an illusion,” he said softly, taking a few steps back. For a moment he considered running, since she was probably a hunter, before his conscience got the better of him.
Steve shrugged. “Why not?” Speaking in rapid-fire ancient Greek, Steve conjured up a solid image of a small pair of gargoyles, who proceeded to knock one of the vampires down. One of them grabbed its face, before the other went to attack it.
Elaine smiled and nodded her head at the gargoyles. “Nice work.”
“Thanks, I’ve been working on them. I especially like the eyes now."
If Reah hadn’t been working hard on her focus since her sparring session with the Slayer, she’d have likely faltered more in her deflection when two gargoyles suddenly seemed to materialise out of thin air not two metres from her while she was in the midst of battling two vampires. But since the things didn’t seem to pose a threat, rather were actually helping her out by taking one of the vampires off her hands and into one of theirs - literally - she let them go about their business and continued to stretch out the fight perhaps a little longer than it needed to be. She was going to milk the little bugger for all he was worth.
When she finally decided enough was enough and disposed of the demon with a swift backhanded plunge of her stake, a quick glance off her shoulder showed her two ‘damsels in distress’ watching the whole entourage passively. And… were they smiling? Was this some sort of stupid test thing?
Steve clapped as he watched the gargoyles struggle with the other vampire, slowly tearing at its throat. Elaine turned her eyes away from the fight at the sight of blood, when they finally managed to detach the vampire's head and scamper to let go. Another quick incantation, and Steve made it look like the blood was gone.
“Are they finished?”
“Yes, they are,” Steve told her, hearing her heavy sigh as they turned their attention to the woman who was now looking more than a little annoyed. The not-so-ancient-evil took a few steps towards her, with his gargoyles sitting on the ground like nothing so much as a couple of small puppies. “That was some really nice work you did there. Thank you for your help, Miss…?”
“-Your balls a lot!” Reah stared at the guy incredulously who was currently murmuring under his breath in confusion at the ‘name’ she’d given him before finally catching on. “You hang out with a friggen vampire, but you can’t take on a couple?” *Bloody hell, this world really is fucked up.*
Steve smiled humorously at the joke. Miss my balls a lot. Trust a vampire hunter to make that kind of joke. Elaine’s voice cut through the air like one of the furies, though she looked quite angry as well. “Hey! We could take on a couple, but Steve won’t let me have any fun.”
“Because you always freak out at the sight of blood!” Steve returned, turning towards her for a moment before returning to the vampire hunter. No way was he going to allow her to kill one of his friends. “We’re just not used to trying to fight all the time, especially vampires. Truth be told, I don’t know why…” Suddenly he trailed off as a thought occurred to him.
Elaine looked at him meaningfully. She’d had the same thought as well, but was the one to voice the concern. “Damien?”
“Gotta be. He’s probably pissed someone off again by screwing up a spell.”
Reah watched the two converse with a blank expression. Clearly she was missing something here, but enough was clear. *Rookies. Great. Behold for I am Reah - the evil avenger.* With a tone as flat as the expression on her face, Reah addressed the vampiress with a slight smirk tugging the edge of her mouth. “Please don’t tell me you’re a haemaphobic vampire. I’ll really have to shoot myself then.”
Elaine looked at Reah with a look of clear surprise and disgust on her face, as she thought about it. Blood… she was supposed to feed on it, wasn’t she? *No, no, it’s tomato juice… to-ma-to juice.* “Look, I know it’s completely and totally irrational to think that blood from the random passer by is going to make me sick for the rest of my un-life, but it is, so there!”
“Here we go again,” Steve slowly shook his head and sighed. It was always the same, whenever they met a hunter. They always looked shocked and surprised at the thought that she wasn’t a threat because, well, she hated blood. “Look, can you all just accept that maybe – just maybe – it’s possible for the demon to pick up on a completely irrational fear of the host?”
“Apparently,” Reah didn’t bother holding back the smirk which now spread plainly across all her face with the exception of her eyes. “So who are you then?” Reah said, her eyes lingering on the vampiress just a moment longer before peeling off and settling on her companion.
“Elaine,” the vampiress said, nodding her head. “And this is Steve, an anthropromorphic incarnation of evil.”
Steve smiled at her, shaking his head. “But, uh, don’t let that worry you. All I do is work in producing reality TV – say, can you sing?” he suddenly looked her over again with a new appreciation of the woman’s appearance. Ok, so she was blond, and would need a wardrobe change, but aside from that… “I’m working on the next season of American Idol.”
Reah stared for a moment with a peculiar look, then couldn‘t help the sudden burst of laughter that exploded from nowhere - what part she was laughing at exactly was unknown. She figured it was probably a mixture of the whole lot. But after everything else that had been going on lately, meeting these guys was turning out to be a breath of fresh air, and a very welcome one at that!
“It’s not so much a question of if I can, more a point that I won’t,” she said, smiling. “And don’t worry, I never had any intention to kill you,” Reah said, nodding to the vampire. “Not unless you gave me a reason to want to. I’m not really all I seem either.”
Elaine looked completely surprised at the news, and Steve couldn’t blame her. A vampire hunter – well, apparent vampire hunter – who didn’t want to kill a vampire. Even had no intention of doing it. “That’s great!” Steve cheered, and with a snap of his fingers sent his gargoyles disappearing in a puff of smoke. Then an idea occurred to him. “So, what do we call you?”
Reah blinked as one of the pieces finally fell into the puzzle of life. “Reanna. Or Reah if you will,” she grinned. Something about the vampire’s surprise had lifted her spirits considerably. It was almost like being in the future again with different species mixing! They weren’t exactly the equivalent of a minotaur friend, but they were close enough.
At the expectant looks on their faces, she decided she better elaborate on what she’d said. “I used to hunt like most hunters - seeking vengeance and all that, yeah - but as situations have a habit of doing: they changed! Considerably.”
Elaine looked over the young hunter with a great deal of curiosity, studying her form. Hearing about a hunter who didn’t want to kill them always put her in a good mood, as did a good fight, even if she wasn’t involved. “How about if I call you beautiful instead?” she winked at Reah.
Steve resisted the urge to break out laughing at the hunter’s completely surprised look. He hoped that she realized Elaine was just trying to have her fun in whatever way Steve would let her – and hoped he wouldn’t have to talk them out of a fight. “Hmmm, well… Reah, I’ll be honest, we really have to get going. We were heading to a café after the movie to get a bite to eat – no pun intended – before the sun comes up. You’re welcome to come along if you want.”
Reah recovered her shock and faced the vampire with mild amusement. “I’d be more careful, were I you. When I said considerably, I meant considerably. I mightn’t be so disinclined to swing the other way. Again.” It was her turn to wink and laugh at the looks on the odd couple’s faces.
“But as to your offer, I should probably head home. It’d be nice to catch up with you guys again sometime though,” she added as an after thought. She needed more… well… ‘people’ like this to talk to. Now more than ever. “I own the Armoury - don’t know if you’ve heard of it before. But we cater for both humans and demons alike. Sewer access even,” she added with a nod and smile to Elaine.
***Present Day
Thursday, May 3rd, 2007 - 08:39
Reah shook her head as she took each step in time up the stairwell to the second floor landing, smiling to herself at the memory of some of the strange company she met in the night sometimes. Raising the keys already in hand to the door, Reah slipped one smoothly into its keyhole and turned it with a simple ‘click’ that opened it up.
“Shit!” Reah jumped, heart suddenly in her throat as she was faced with Quin right there not five metres away, waiting patiently on one of the kitchen stools. “Bloody hell… Morning Quin. Please don’t do that again. Scared the shit out of me!”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 6th May 2007 – 8:45pm
Watchers’ Council LA Headquarters
Whistling through her teeth, Tash wandered around the outside of the house to reach the marshalling area. Having finally got home after the incident with Daye that morning, she’d slept soundly for hours, without even her usual nightmares. In fact, she realised it had been some weeks since she’d woken in the middle of the night, sweating and panting from the horrific images that had haunted her for so long. Perhaps the horror of the past had finally let go of her subconscious. Whatever it was, she was just happy to get a full night’s – or day’s – sleep for a change.
With the lawn cushioning her steps, Tash rounded the corner of the mansion to see that Ana had just finished choosing that evening’s patrol complement, and was interested to note that the Kaoshian demon, Kyle, appeared to be heading out on his first patrol with the Slayer tonight. Since she’d encountered him over two weeks ago, Tash hadn’t found a single opportunity to spend any time with him. It seemed every time she approached him during training, Ana or one of the other demons wanted to see her about something. Maybe tonight could be her lucky night.
*Unless the reason he’s allowed to go tonight is because his conditioning has taken already,* the pessimistic thought crossed her mind. But still, nothing ventured… *nothing gained.*
“Ana,” she said in greeting as she neared the Slayer.
Ana turned and bestowed her usual non-committal stare at Tash and gave a cursory nod in acknowledgement.
“Thought I’d come along tonight – I’ve not been on patrol with you for a couple of days now,” Tash remarked, “since I’ve been busy with… other things.” And since she’d run out of dead demons, she hoped to pick up one or two tonight.
Ana grimaced, knowing full well what those ‘things’ had been. Tash’s dealings with the undead was something she found quite unsavoury, but she trusted Lord Delancre’s assessment that it would benefit their army overall.
“If you must,” the Slayer said with a barely perceptible glance at Kyle. With herself and half a dozen other demons around she should be able to keep Tash separated from the fire demon, as Delancre had instructed.
Tash’s grin in response was toothy, then she checked her weapons and took her place beside Ana as the group headed out. Not once did Tash glance over her shoulder at Kyle, even during the drive to that night’s patrol zone or while they jogged along the back alleys.
Their quarry, when they found it, turned out to be merely the scouts for a larger group. The four vampires they stumbled across ran like scared rabbits, giving the patrol a run for their money before they cornered the foursome. However, the vampires hadn’t run randomly, but had taken them to a planned ambush. It seemed a motley collection of vampires had banded together to find safety in numbers against the growing threat of the Slayer and her ‘accessories’ and were prepared to make a stand tonight.
Ana stood her ground and hissed her orders, “You, you and you,” she said, pointing to three of the fastest demons, “move around to flank them. The rest of us will hold them here.”
Kyle stood off to one side whilst Ana gave her orders, keeping his eye on the group of vampires. He had been looking forward to this; his first patrol. It would be time to show the girl what he could really do, and he had no intention of disappointing her. Quickly he pulled out a stake as the rest of the group grabbed their own weapons. Then two demons released their crossbows, Ana gave a quick “Charge”, and then the two sides met; fist and fang.
The minor skirmish echoing around him, Kyle plunged through the vampires with his fists flying. One went down, two; a third blocked his stake and dealt him a fierce blow. Kyle traded punches with the vampire until he knocked it off balance by kicking at his knee. As the vampire fell forward, he swept up with the stake and dusted it.
Another darted in, this one stronger, and drove him back. Drawn like moths to a light, other vampires converged in. The ambush itself was definitely planned, but it appeared as word spread more vampires were arriving to see the Slayer put down. Ana and her soldiers found themselves fighting against superior numbers, the Slayer holding fast in the centre. Then the three demons she had sent out onto the flank charged in and the tables were suddenly turned. Caught by surprise, the vampires’ strength in numbers was sharply reduced, and the skirmish had switched to an all out-brawl.
Caught out away from the main group of demons and Ana, Kyle found himself back to back with Tash, the woman who'd been so cryptic on his first day at the mansion.
Early in the fight, Tash had no time to do more than make a cursory note as one of the demons went down – *Good, another one for me.* – before she was fighting for her life against the onslaught. Soon, however, she was behind a wall with only a few vampires and one of the patrolling demons. Her crossbow bolts had long been expended, but as she side-kicked one vampire and followed up with a stake to the heart she was able to catch a glimpse of which demon circumstance had paired her with.
*Well, well,* she thought as she recognised Kyle. She flung out an arm, catching an onrushing vampire in the jaw, and with a swift movement broke his neck. Dropping the limp vampire to the ground she kicked up a dropped stake with her toe and plunged it into the creature’s heart. The faint noise of its dusting faded and she looked up to find Kyle had just finished off his last opponent.
Dusting her hands, she cocked her head to listen and said to him, “Sounds like they have it under control out there – no need to rush back just yet.”
Kyle shrugged whilst he thought about Tash. Here it was again; the crypticness. Was that even a word? *Who cares?* If she had some ulterior motive, he wanted to get right down to it. “Why not? Sounds like they’re having a good time out there. Unless there's some reason we should be on a patrol but not fight?”
Tash smiled at him, “Well, we haven’t had much of a chance to talk since you showed up. I almost get the feeling someone’s trying to keep me away from you. So, how are you settling in? Still ‘freestake’,” she grinned, “or are you now more of a regular in the army?”
Again, Kyle shrugged. “Going for more of a regular thing now. Good pay, roof over my head, warm regular meals. Yeah, I have to mess around with this little army every now and again but, hey, keeps me occupied. Better than some of the other set-ups I’ve had.” He eyed the woman carefully. “How about you?”
*Damn. Sounds like he’s mostly been indoctrinated already. Crap.* Tash was not happy. She’d hoped this one would stay more or less independent, but of course Delancre wasn’t about to let a demon go running around with too much free will. Still, the fact that Kyle hadn’t just rushed straight back out to fight devoutly beside his Slayer meant that the process wasn’t yet complete.
“Yeah, I’m doing all right,” she said with her best friendly smile, “But I thought some of the guys in the army seem a bit too ‘rah rah Delancre’. Have you noticed that at all among any of them? I don’t get to hang about in the barracks much, and since you’re new and all I thought you might have noticed if any of them seemed a bit over the top.”
Kyle grunted something of a laugh. “You're telling me. In the barracks, they're all walking round talking like Delancre's the next best thing since vodka. Especially her.” He tossed his thumb over his shoulder, indicating Ana who was still fighting outside. “She talks like he’s the next Jesus Christ or whatever. As far as I'm concerned, he’s great and all for taking me in, but he’s not that great.”
Tash joined in with Kyle’s half-laughter, nodding, “Yeah, I have to say I can generally take him or leave him, myself.”
She propped herself up against a wall and eyed the fire demon while the sounds of battle continued from just beyond their cul-de-sac, albeit decreasing in intensity. With her zombie army growing in numbers daily, Tash hoped to gain an edge against Delancre when the time came – but for now she was working on Delancre’s timetable and if he chose to move to secure his ascension to godhood then she’d have to act with whatever forces she could bring to bear. And although Kyle still possessed most of his free will, she had no illusions that it would be a temporary state – unless she was able to do something about it.
So she chatted while she worked to delve into his brain as far as she dared, peeling back his layers until she found the faint hints of his initial brainwashing sessions. “Well, Kyle,” her mouth said while her mind was almost exclusively focusing on the task at hand, “what do you reckon Delancre intends to do with his army once he’s wiped out the vampires in Los Angeles?”
That certainly threw him off balance. “Uhh... I haven’t really thought about that. Move on to somewhere else, I guess.” Kyle rubbed his head; he could feel a headache coming on.
“Hmm, I guess so,” Tash murmured, then reached out a hand to steady him. “Are you feeling all right?” she asked while she used the contact to augment her influence.
Why she’d never thought of doing this before, she didn’t know – but of course Ohenewaa had possessed formidable telepathic skills of her own, stolen from generations of young women. Using the memories she had from the priestess, as well as her own experiences of having her thoughts influenced by the vodoun woman, Tash found she could perform some minor manipulations in Kyle’s mind. Carefully she planted a seed of suggestion in there against the possibility that Delancre would one day seek to finish his conditioning.
As she withdrew from Kyle’s mind the demon swayed again and Tash tightened her grip. “Kyle? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Uhh... yeah,” Kyle replied none-too-convincingly and a little put off-balance. “I, uh, just felt a little weird there for a moment.” He shook his head, “Yeah, I’m fine. We done having this little heart-to-heart? It sounds like it’s died down outside and I want to see if there’re any crumbs that need mopping up.”
Tash grinned, “Sure.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 6th of May, 2007
9:20 PM
Darian's Apartment
“And I thought my line of work was painful at times,” Darian laughed.
Most Extreme Elimination Challenge was having a five-episode marathon, and the fae thought that a good dose of mindless humor was what Cole needed. To his dismay however, the boy seemed distracted; preoccupied no doubt with thoughts of recent events.
“It’s over now Cole, things are going to be okay,” Darian said, commenting on the boy’s obvious anxiety.
“Uhh.” Unintelligible garble escaped Cole’s mouth, as his attention was dragged back to the room. “Did you say something?”
The man’s jaw tightened and worry lines marked his forehead as Darian clicked the ‘mute’ button on the remote, and turned so he was facing the chair Cole sat in. “Things are going to be fine, Cole, don’t worry,” he said reassuringly.
Cole however, wasn’t convinced.
“How do you know, Darian?” Cole replied rather quickly. “I did a lot of shit to a lot of people… powerful people,” he added. Although Kate had vowed to protect him from Marcus, neither she nor Darian could be around him twenty-four seven, and if Onyx wanted revenge she would find a way to get it.
“I know, Cole, but you know I’ll protect you-”
Cole cut Darian off abruptly. “You can’t.” The harshness of his tone caused the fae’s mouth to snap back shut in surprise. “I… didn’t mean it that way,” the boy continued, regretting the way he badly phrased his thoughts. “I’m saying that if Onyx, or Daye, or whoever wants to come after me, well, there will be a time when you’re not around to stop them.”
Feeling the weight of the words wash over him, the man sulked back into the cushion of the couch. *It’s true.* He couldn’t be everywhere Cole was all the time.
“You see Darian, what I did - it has consequences,” the boy said softly, trying to ignore the pull of magic calling to him from the back of his mind.
Having to worry about Onyx and Daye was not the only repercussion to his little coup. Delving so deeply into black magic changes someone, and Cole was already feeling those changes. He didn’t want to worry Darian any more by telling him this, but only hours after they had left Kate’s the boy could feel the sinister power calling, trying to lure him back into darkness. A part of him wanted to give in and let the comforting magics take over again, but he fought it; talking to Chance gave him a second go at life, and he wouldn’t let the man down by giving up already.
“I... I have to make things right, Darian. It’s the only way to end things,” Cole said, doing his best to not think about the call of the magic.
“What do you mean?” Darian answered suspiciously, not sure he was going to like what Cole was about to say.
“I have to see everyone I hurt, and try to do what I can to make it up to them,” he said firmly.
Reacting predictably, the man’s head was shaking ‘no’ even before Cole had finished. To Darian, the idea was insane. “Who knows what they will do to you, Cole? Yeah, maybe I can’t always be around, but that doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for them to get to you.”
“What difference will it make if they find me sooner than later?”
“But Cole-”
“Darian, stop! I appreciate your concern, I really do, but it’s my mess and I have to clean it up. If you can’t understand that… then maybe,” he said closing his eyes, mustering the courage to continue, “Maybe coming back here wasn’t the best idea.”
The fae’s eyes widened in shock, fearing the boy would run off again. “Cole don’t,” he objected, rising to his feet in a flash.
A moment of tension descended on the room, each waiting for the other to speak first. Finally, seeing the fierce conviction in the boy’s eyes, Darian conceded. “Fine, go see them, just so long as you promise not to run off again.”
The boy sighed with relief. He never actually wanted to leave, but if had been the only way, he was prepared to sacrifice all until things were set right. “I promise. Now sit down, would you? You’re making me nervous," the boy added, trying to lighten the mood.
Taking his place back on the couch, the fae couldn’t help but grumble about how bad an idea it was, and how he still didn’t think it was a good decision.
Cole couldn’t help but smile over Darian's over protective nature. *Things are already going back to normal.*
Delancre begins to seduce Daye
*** Monday, May 7, 2007 9:11 am ***
*** Daye’s room in the Council house ***
Lord Ambrose Delancre sat in a small armchair beside the bed where Amanda Blaise slept. He had a folder balanced on one knee and he was jotting notes in it. He glanced up occasionally to check on his wayward protégé. She slept soundly, undisturbed by either his presence or that of the nondescript man standing near the door. The man, a wizard by the name of Richard Forth or Robert Ferth or something, was there to insure that Amanda’s sleep remained untroubled. Delancre was well pleased with the way things were going. His magical staff had been able to ascertain the problem and come up with a handy solution rather quickly.
Amanda was being “haunted”, for want of a better word, by the ghosts of two powerful spirits. They had somehow infected her mind, and their influence had hindered both her ability to function as well as the Hyde virus she’d recently contracted. Robert, or whatever, was there to see that the spirits were kept under control so that Amanda could return to her Hyde-influenced senses.
Delancre set his notes aside when Amanda stirred in her sleep and slowly opened her eyes. Her gaze was clear and focused, albeit a bit confused. Delancre had thought long and hard about how exactly he wanted to play this, and he pretty much knew what Amanda would respond to best, Hyde or no Hyde. Leaning forward, he placed a gentle hand on Daye’s brow, bringing her eyes to him.
“Amanda, dear, you’re finally awake,” his voice dripped fatherly concern. “I’m so glad to see it.”
Daye blinked slowly, still quite disoriented. She wasn’t sure what she was doing here, or why Ambrose Delancre was sitting there fussing over her. She did know immediately, though, that something had changed. Sitting there, considering, she realized she was surrounded by beautiful, blessed silence.
“Wh… what happened?” Daye whispered. Her throat felt incredibly dry and her body ached all over.
“You were ill,” Delancre replied. His hand gently stroked her hair. “You were under some kind of mental attack. I… my mages, they’ve helped you. How do you feel?”
“Oh…” Daye struggled to sit up, balancing precariously on her elbows. She was dizzy, but all things considered she felt good, better than good. She felt… liberated. She turned her gaze on Delancre, noticing how handsome and strong he looked. She felt a warmth blossoming within her.
“I feel good,” Daye said softly. “I… thank you so much. You’ve saved my life. I didn’t think…”
Delancre raised a hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Please, dear, you don’t have to thank me. I was happy to help. You know how much you’ve always meant to me, dear Amanda. Even though we’ve been estranged for so long, my feelings for you haven’t changed. You are the daughter I never had. I would never allow you to suffer.”
*At least not until it helped me further my plans.* Delancre watched Daye’s face as she took in his words. She was his once again. He could see that immediately. He could win her trust and in so doing, convince her to give him that which he most desired -Maia. If he was careful, if he took his time, he would get everything he wanted.
“I… thank you,” Daye was surprised by his acceptance and open forgiveness. She’d made a mistake in leaving the Council behind. That much was all too clear. But it was a mistake she could now rectify. She could and would become involved in this work again, the work of her life. What better way to show her gratitude to Ambrose?
“You, dearest, must rest,” Delancre dropped a soft kiss on her forehead and then rose smoothly to his feet. “Your body is still exhausted and weakened from the tremendous battle you’ve been waging these last few weeks. You must sleep… and eat. Don’t even think to venture out of your room before this evening. Promise?”
Daye nodded. She thought that after a brief nap it would be a good idea to explore the house. She could get an idea of where everything was and what was going on here, and maybe she could find some company. With her mothers out of the picture, she suddenly felt old appetites resurfacing with a vengeance. She was sure there would be one or two willing Watchers around. After she rested, there were all kinds of hungers she could satisfy here.
“Good.” Delancre could sense the direction of Daye’s surface thoughts and he had to hide a smirk. She reeked of sexual interest and prurient desire. He guessed that Hyde was kicking back into high gear and he couldn’t have been happier. “And promise me one other thing.”
Daye frowned suspiciously. *What does he want now? To ruin my fun?*
“You must make sure that this man is with you at all times,” Delancre indicated the wizard standing near the door. “He is keeping those spiritual attackers at bay. You must never be more than fifty feet from him. If you were to wander too far, you would be vulnerable once again. Do you understand?”
Daye looked at the man. He was plain and unappealing. Too bad, really, because he would have made an interesting addition to her plans if he’d been someone else. She sighed.
“Yes, I understand, Ambrose.” She tried to sound contrite and obedient. “I promise.”
Delancre nodded, well pleased. “Then I’ll leave you to your rest. We’ll talk again soon, my dear.”
Daye watched the First Elder of the Watchers’ Council leave, thinking that he did cut a mighty fine figure in his tailored pants and linen shirt. Still, he wasn’t for her. That would be a little too weird. She would have to find a suitable playmate when she woke up. Snuggling in, Daye closed her eyes and drifted off. The man standing by the door studied her with a wistful expression, but she was totally unaware.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, May 7th
4:00 pm
Longwood Inc. offices
Alessa had entered the building wearing the form of a mature Chinese woman and was waiting for Mike Coulter to admit her. She flipped through a magazine and tapped her foot on the floor impatiently. She would have been admitted at once if she had appeared as herself; her status as the boss' lover was well-known in the building after all, but she wanted to talk to Mike without Ellis' interference.
She was worried about Cole and wanted the older man's help to find him. She didn’t want to ask Ellis, she knew how much he disliked the teen. Besides, Ellis' behaviour had become more and more erratic in the last days. Alessa frowned. She had thought she was guarding her thoughts well, but he may have started suspecting something. She shrugged; she didn’t like hiding things but she didn’t want to stop seeing Ellis… and she would have to if he started demanding exclusivity, as he would most probably do if he found out about Stuart. It was complicated.
Fortunately, Mike appeared in the waiting room and his secretary called him before entering the office. They talked quickly and the woman signalled Alessa with her head. Mike then turned to her with a frown and invited her into his office, following her inside and closing the door behind them.
"So, what do you need Alessa?" he asked her, without waiting for her to sit down.
Alessa watched him surprised. "How did you know? Are you some kind of psychic too?"
Mike chuckled and sat down behind his desk. The thing was covered with papers, open books and artefacts of all kinds; somehow it didn’t fit with his serious manner. "No. I'm not, but you are wearing a dress you wore last week and you didn’t bother to disguise your body movements." He studied her carefully for a moment. "The rest is quite good, I have to say."
Alessa accepted the compliment with a slight bow, but cursed herself for underestimating the man. Then she morphed back to herself, shrugging. "Well, it wasn’t my intention to deceive you, anyway. I just wanted to talk to you without Ellis knowing."
"I assumed as much," the man said, leaning back in his chair. "So, what do you need?"
Alessa sighed, "It's about Cole. We… well, we had a fight last Saturday and I sort of threw him out of my house. Maldición! Not sort of, I did kick him off. It's this damn temper of mine. Este maldito virus!" Alessa messed her hair, irritated. "It's like living with PMS all the time! Not that I get to have much of that, hell! I never have PMS, I'm a hybrid after all…"
She looked up and caught the amused look in Mike's face and blushed. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling."
"Yes, you are," conceded Mike. "So you are worried about your mage friend. Did you try to contact the Fae or the Kaoshian?" he asked, surprising Alessa with his knowledge.
"Yeah, I couldn’t find any of them." Disgusted as she was at the both of them, she had tried to talk to Darian and Kyle, but without luck. "Listen, I don’t know much about magic, but Cole was charged that night. I'm worried about what he can do, to him or others." She grimaced, remembering Oz and Ellis' warnings about the kid; maybe she should have listened to them.
"I'll see what I can do," Mike answered, nodding. "Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?"
"Mmm, not really. Have you had any luck with the Dobrytampesky?" she asked. She may have something else to tell him after the incursion on the Watcher's mansion on Wednesday, but not yet.
"We traced him down to this city. It seems the man moved to LA some time ago. I think Ellis has an appointment with him some time this week." He paused, looking at Alessa speculatively, as if hesitating to speak. He finally said, "Ellis is worried about you."
Alessa rolled her eyes. "What is it this time, Mike? Oz again?" she asked, irritated.
"No, not Oz. Not this time, at least." Mike frowned; the aversion Ellis felt for that man was irrational and had him more worried than he wanted to admit. But that wasn’t the thing here, he wanted to see how Alessa reacted. "Mostly he says you've changed."
The demoness chuckled at that. "Isn't that what's supposed to happen to us infected people? Change?" But she got serious immediately, worried. "We are both different. I can notice - Ellis is getting worse too, Mike… he's more violent and angry lately," she said, thinking about some of the arguments they'd had these past days. That those same arguments usually ended in great 'make ups' didn’t lessen the problem.
"I know. He's like a bomb about to explode."
He looked at Alessa again. She looked seriously worried, but at the same time he knew she was having an affair with that Watcher. Since he had learned that she was infected as well he had appointed somebody he trusted to follow her, as he had done earlier with Ellis. He didn’t give a damn with whom she spent the time, and if the 'limbic virus' was as strong as the doctors said she wasn’t responsible for that any more than Ellis was for his violence. However, if his friend were to know it'd probably be the drop to make him explode.
"Just be careful, ok?" he added as Alessa rose to leave, but the demoness only arched her eyebrows.
Daye gives Marcus a call from the Council house
*** Tuesday, May 8, 2007 10 am ***
*** Daye’s room at the Council house ***
Daye yawned extravagantly and slid out from between the luxurious satin sheets on the bed of her room. She was careful not to wake the poor man passed out beside her. She'd invited him up to her room yesterday after she'd met him while exploring the magical laboratory where he and a dozen or so others worked on various projects for Delancre. The man, whose name she couldn't quite recall, had proved to be disappointingly short on stamina, but then again, one had to make do with what was readily available. Just before she'd given up on rousing him after he'd finished way too early the previous night, Daye had made a decision. She was feeling so much better and she had all her power back, so naturally she had a good excuse to give Marcus Dalton a call. A good excuse besides the fact that the man had loads of stamina.
Sighing, Daye moved quietly out of the bedroom of her suite and shut the door behind her. Once her business was attended to, maybe she'd wake the sleeping dolt up and give him one last chance to prove himself... or maybe she'd just kick him out on his arse. It really depended on how well the call to Marcus went.
Daye sat down on the antique love seat and grabbed the telephone from the table beside it. She dialed the number for Marcus' hotel and waited patiently as she was transferred to his room.
Marcus was feeling exasperated; he was having absolutely no success in finding someone to take Daye’s place in cleansing his new home. The covens around the area had no intention of even returning his calls. Kate was absolutely a no go. He knew that before even asking and the other solitary practitioners didn’t, it seemed, have the power necessary for the undertaking. He was seriously considering contacting Andropov to upgrade the ‘contract’ on Cole. Now that Onyx’s powers had returned it seemed Cole’s draining of Daye was likely to be more inconvenient.
“Oh!” Marcus had a profound moment of embarrassment. If Onyx’s powers had returned no doubt Daye’s had as well. She hadn’t returned his payment yet so perhaps she’d be willing to take up his contract again. *Though,* he thought, *if her powers have returned…*
The shrill tone of the hotel phone interrupted Marcus’ thoughts. “Yes?”
“I have a Miss Blaise for you, Mr. Dalton.”
*Well, speak of the devil…* “Put her through.”
There was a click and Marcus spoke again. “Ama- Daye. I was just thinking of you,” he said with a smile in his voice.
Daye felt that familiar tingling start at the sound of Marcus' pleasant greeting. She smiled warmly to herself and responded, almost purring. "Isn't that just the most delicious coincidence. I was obviously just thinking of you too. And I have some good news."
“Really?” Marcus replied, her tone sparking old memories. He shook himself for a second. “I’m sorry Daye. Good news? It wouldn’t be about your powers would it?” he asked somewhat hopefully, while he tried to put aside the effect her sultry tone had on him.
"Have you taken up mind reading in your spare time, darling?" Daye laughed softly. "'Cause you are spot on with that one."
Daye twirled the phone cord around one finger as she spoke, wishing Marcus were closer than the telephone.
"I've got my magic back, yes," she said. "As a matter of fact, I've had my magic back for a couple of days now. I'd have called you sooner, but there were complications."
Marcus nodded without realizing Daye couldn’t see the motion. A few days would be the same time as Onyx recovered. As for the complications, he knew what she meant by that - Mariah and Erin.
“And how…?” Marcus stopped. He’d replied to her in the same fashion she was speaking but that wasn’t really appropriate. It was in fact odd. Amanda’s tone held the same note of invitation it had when they first met. So, what had happened to ‘friends’?
“How are Drew and Maia?”
Daye frowned in annoyance at the question. She so did not want to talk about Professor Loser and the Brat.
"I have no idea," she said coldly. "Fine, I suppose... I'm not staying with them any more."
Well that answered that question, but what was happening? Daye’s personality and emotions were all over the place. Onyx would no doubt say it was the effect of her use of dark magics but the more Marcus thought about that the less it made sense. Dark magic should cause a slow corrosion of Amanda’s morality - leading her deeper into degradation, but the effects should be permanent. Taking away her powers shouldn’t take away the effect.
Marcus schooled his features and took a breath. He was about to do something personally distasteful, but he needed to find out what was going on so he could help his friend. Onyx might be right yet, but he wanted more than an opinion based on a cursory examination and some assumptions about her state of mind.
Well then,” he practically purred back down the phone, “you and I have a great deal to discuss.”
"Discuss?" Daye ran a hand down her body as she spoke. Marcus' suddenly familiar tone had gone straight to her libido. "Oh, we have so many missed discussions to make up for. When can I see you?"
“I have nothing pressing right now…” Marcus injected a hint of eagerness into his tone. The sooner he could see her in person the more quickly this could be resolved.
Daye wasn't about to waste any time. She had 'pressing' business with him. "I could probably come to your place," she suggested.
"Oh, I'll have to bring along... someone," she added, remembering the mage standing outside the door of her room at that moment. He was the mage currently on shift who was maintaining the shielding that kept her mothers at bay. She couldn't function without him, as much as she hated the idea of a chaperone.
"But he'll not get in the way," Daye assured Marcus instantly.
Marcus felt like quoting Lewis Carroll. “That’s fine. I’m sure Onyx can keep him entertained.”
Marcus wondered if he’d managed the right note of jealousy. He devoutly hoped so.
Daye heard the undertone of jealousy in Marcus' voice and wanted to laugh out loud. The mage currently assigned to "help" her was easily fifty years old, with a spreading paunch and a severe lack of hair on his head, although he had plenty growing in other places.
*I could reassure him, but I don't think I will,* Daye thought. *It's interesting to get a rise out of the normally unflappable Mr. Dalton.*
"Ok, then, I can be at your hotel in half an hour," Daye said. "Is that all right with you?"
"Perfectly."
***
Marcus glanced around the room. It was obvious from Daye’s manner on the phone that he had no need for ‘seduction’. Nonetheless there was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice. Two champagne flutes stood on a table nearby. A single capsule was secreted in the cuff of his shirt. Prestidigitation was more a hobby than anything else but he was reasonably capable of palming a single pill. Amanda would be out in a few minutes; he’d just need to keep her occupied till the drug had its effect.
Marcus looked to Onyx. She had protested this plan, still convinced that Daye was just a weak minded fool, but he’d given her an order and she’d aided his preparations with her customary ability and no evidence of sullenness. Marcus decided, however, he didn’t want to know just why Onyx had such ready access to such a drug. Like her encounter with Natasha sometimes Marcus felt it was best not to ask.
The telephone rang and Marcus gave a tight smile as Onyx picked it up and nodded.
“They’re on their way up.”
Daye led the mage assigned to her - his name was Robert or Richard or something equally unimaginative - up to the door of Marcus' suite. She was all tingly with anticipation. Without hesitating, she knocked on the door.
Onyx walked to the door and opened it. Amanda had changed her style again. The clothes were back to the sort she’d worn when they’d first met the witch. Pale blue, almost transparent silk clung to curves unfettered by anything else.
“Hello Amanda. Marcus is inside.” Onyx gave the witch another cool look then turned her attention to her companion.
“I’m afraid Mr. Dalton prefers his business to remain private, Mr...?” Onyx’s senses told her this man was a mage and his power was linked to Amanda somehow. She knew she would have to be careful.
"Oh, don't mind him, Onyx," Daye said carelessly. "Richard... uhm, right?" she addressed the man who was standing only a few feet away.
"Actually, Robert," the man stammered. He was a mousy little thing, who unfortunately was rapidly becoming obsessed with figuring out how to get into Daye's bed.
"Right," Daye said. "Sorry. Anyway, you should just follow Onyx here and she'll take care of you. I'll probably be busy for a few hours."
Daye sauntered past Onyx without giving the pair another thought.
“If you’d like to come this way, Robert…”
Marcus smiled as he heard Onyx’s words, then picked up the champagne and deftly popped the cork. The ‘smoke’ of escaping gases and condensation floated from the neck but Marcus didn’t spill a drop.
Amanda appeared in the doorway and Marcus felt an incredible urge to moisten his lips. She was just as he recalled . The dress tantalized and teased, her every movement a seduction. Suddenly he realized just how difficult the next few minutes might be.
Daye stopped just within the doorway and smiled with delight. Marcus stood inside the lounge, near one of the sofas Daye had been sitting on the last time she'd been there. He was dressed in a dark coloured shirt and pants.
"Mmmm, aren't you a sight?" Daye purred from the doorway. She stalked across the room and took the champagne bottle out of his hands, placing it back into the chilled bucket on the table. Without a word, Daye sidled up to Marcus, brought one hand up to tangle in his hair and dropped her mouth to his. She wasn't shy about it all. She simply started to devour him.
When her actions actually registered it was all he could do not to spring away from her from her like a scalded cat. Turning his grip into a caress he tried to control him self and when they had to pause to breathe Marcus reached up and disengaged her hand from his neck.
“There’s… There’s no rush.” He suppressed a groan as she undulated against him. Bending forward he nipped at her throat. “We have lots of time. Let’s savour it.” Managing to break away fully Marcus turned back to the bottle and began to pour.
Daye was undeterred by Marcus. She reached out to stroke his shoulders and back beneath the soft fabric of his shirt, "No rush?" she repeated. "But it's been ages... and I've really, really missed you. Haven't you really, really missed me too?" Daye asked playfully.
“Oh I’ve missed you…” Marcus trailed fingers over the slick fabric clinging to her torso. “I’ve missed you a lot.”
He leaned in for another kiss hoping that his tongue would be enough to distract her from just what his hands were doing. He managed to break the capsule open over one of the flutes then moved back into her embrace, letting his hands roam her skin. He continued for a few seconds then broke away again.
“Anticipation does have its rewards though.” He picked up the glasses, momentarily forgetting which was which before offering one to Amanda.
Daye took the glass from him, but didn't raise it to her lips. She instead held it in one hand while she reached out with the other to toy with the buttons on Marcus' shirt. She sighed dramatically. "I suppose that's true," she said, pouting prettily.
Still holding the champagne flute in one hand, Daye worked first one button and then another free, until Marcus’ shirt gaped open. Running her tongue over her lips, she took one finger and swirled it in the champagne before bringing it back to trace lazily across the expanse of his chest. With a small smile, she bent forward and followed the line of damp champagne with her tongue, lapping at the wet trail her finger had left behind.
Marcus did groan then, a mixture of lust and self loathing. He wasn’t a saint and after a couple of weeks of just such afternoons Amanda knew just what he enjoyed. He tangled a hand in her hair while his other set down his glass and reached for the fastening of the dress.
Thankfully the position didn’t allow him to move the zipper more than a fraction and Marcus managed to get control of his lust-addled brain. The realization that he was only half playing this role did little to help and he picked up the glass again before pushing Daye’s hot wet mouth from his chest. He sipped a little of the liquid, held it in his mouth and bent forward himself.
Daye threw her head back and closed her eyes as Marcus bent his head and took her breast in his mouth, the champagne bubbles dancing across her nerve endings as his tongue stroked her through the thin layer of wet silk.
She dug her free hand into the thickness of his hair and writhed beneath his hands.
"Mmmmm, oh yes..." Daye moaned aloud.
Marcus smiled and pulled away again. Straightening up he drained his glass, put it down and reached out to cup her breast. Rubbing a thumb across the now totally transparent material, he leant forward and whispered into her ear, “Drink up. We have a whole bottle to play with.”
Daye brought the champagne flute to her lips and sipped languidly at the liquid, her eyes locked on Marcus's and full of erotic promise. After a moment, she set the now half empty glass down on the table and brought both her hands up to grasp his shirt and slide it down his arms. She pulled the material from the waistband of his pants and let the garment drop to the floor.
Daye stroked her hands over Marcus' now bare chest and moved closer to him, bending to lave first one nipple with her tongue before moving to the other.
"You taste divine," Daye said, running her hands down his body. She stopped at the button of his trousers and deftly flipped it open.
"I do believe I'm going to eat you alive, Marcus," Daye slid down his body, burning a hot, wet trail with her tongue.
Marcus reached down and grasped Amanda’s head. A battle of wills ensued between her obvious desire to go lower and Marcus’ absolute determination that it wouldn’t happen.
Finally she relented, instead kissing back up his chest. Marcus gave her no time to complain, moving to kiss her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and forcing her back towards the couch and pressing her down into its inviting softness.
“Not if I eat you first.”
Marcus moved back towards her breasts, letting his tongue glide over one while his hand caressed the other. *Keep her busy. Half a glass should be enough. God, please let it be enough,* Marcus prayed silently. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand before his resolve weakened too far and she got exactly what she came for.
Daye arched her back, pressing her body into Marcus. She stroked his bare back and chest. Daye was lost in a haze of lust, when suddenly she began to feel strange. She grew dizzy.
"Marcus?" Her voice seemed to be coming from very far off. "Marcus, I don't feel very..."
*Oh Thank god.* Daye’s sudden confusion was all Marcus needed. He moved from her breasts to pepper butterfly kisses along her jaw. “Don’t fight it, Baby. Go with it. I’m here. Just relax, Amanda…”
Marcus watched her eyes. The pupils were dilated so far as to make the iris all but disappear and that wasn’t just lust he was sure. Eventually her head lolled to one side and her breathing slowed. Marcus let loose a great sigh and stepped away from the couch. He glanced down at Amanda. She looked a picture of debauched indolence and with another sigh he grabbed his pants.
“Onyx!”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, May 8th
3:17 pm
Ellis' shoulder restraints bit into his flesh and then tore loose, ramming his face into the steering wheel. He felt the cartilage in his nose snap and a gush of blood spill over his upper lip, into his mouth.
Stunned, he was vaguely aware of the two large paws picking him up and dragging him out, towards the passenger's door. The huge Verbati carried him a hundred feet away from the wrecked truck.
"You don’t deserve me taking you out!" shouted Alessa at him, resuming her human form after assuring herself he was all right. She was furious, and only the pungent smell of gasoline had made her help him - she wasn’t so gone to leave him in a vehicle threatening to explode.
She had morphed the moment she realized they were going to hit the tree; her powerful arms pressing the dashboard, absorbing the force of the impact and preventing her from flying out of the truck, since she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. Breathing in and out to calm down Alessa looked at Ellis. His nose was already swelling and it was still bleeding freely.
"Here, let me help you," she said, and knelt next to him to help, but Ellis shoved her hand aside and dabbed at the blood on his face with his shirt sleeve.
"Don’t," he spat, tilting back his head to stop the bleeding. "It's not even broken!" he added, grimacing as he felt his nose up with gentle fingers.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he shouted, once he was satisfied with his inspection. His shoulder blades hurt like hell and he was probably already developing several bruises all over his chest where he had hit the steering wheel, it surely hurt to breathe. "Damn crazy bitch! Why did you pull a stunt like that!?"
Alessa stood up again, her fury again raging through her. "Next time you pull a gun on me, you'll think twice," she shouted back, not at all ashamed for stepping on his feet over the gas pedal.
"Oh, yeah?" he asked. "Well, I have two guns, dear," he sneered, taking out the second revolver from its holster beneath his right arm. He wiggled it in front of her, taking a step further, his head still somewhat tilted. He was furious. All the rage that had been smoldering since he had learnt about her and the Watcher inflamed again. "Next time you cheat on me you'll think twice!"
Not at all afraid, Alessa took a step further too. "I don’t have anything to think twice, you… you…" frustrated, the demoness waved spectacularly with her hands. "I don’t have any obligation with you! We are just lovers. Lovers. You hear? Not spouses, not engaged, not even girlfriend and boyfriend!"
She stopped, only inches from his eyes, his revolver pressed firmly against her chest. Adrenaline, the result of the accident and argument, ran through her veins and it was just exhilarating. Alessa wetted her lips and added, "We just enjoy one another, Ellis… I just wouldn’t like this to stop just because of some little thing…"
"Little thing!?" Ellis shouted, stepping back and lowering the weapon. Furious as he was at Alessa he knew he couldn’t just shoot her. "You call sleeping with that cold fish a little thing? Damn Alessa, how can you get so low?"
She looked at him, taken aback by the contempt in his voice, he seemed to know more than he was telling. "What do you mean? I'm just seeing Stuart-"
"Oh, so it's Stuart now?" he sneered, refusing to look into her eyes. She was so angry her eyes were a deep red color. "And shagging Stuart, you mean?"
"Yes, Ellis. If you want to put it that way," she said, and her voice held a reasonable tone. She smiled ironically. "And of course it's Stuart. If I'm 'shagging' him I may as well call him by his first name, don’t you think?"
Looking away, frustrated, she messed her hair and shrugged. "However, why can't I? I thought I had been clear when we started our 'shagging'. I told you I didn’t love you."
Cursing inwardly, Ellis tried to summon up anger to dampen the icy terror that clawed at his chest. "You've turned into a whore!" he cried, furious again.
"So what?" she spat back, advancing once again, the red in her eyes flashing now. "Where is it written that I can't? I don’t need other people to set rules for my life, I'm not even human, Ellis. Your rules don’t mean anything to me!"
"They should! You are living in my house, enjoying my money. You should live by my rules!"
"Oh, no. No, no, no. It's Ernie's house, and it's Ernie's money. But you can as well shove it, if you think it gives you any rights over me!"
Sounds of shouting came to her, but she was unwavering in her gazing at Ellis. "I don’t need your money Ellis, nor your – MY– fancy house. " She stepped towards him, a seductive swing on her hips. "And now that I have Stuart, I don’t need you either. "
A white hot fury blinded him, and Ellis raised his gun again. He couldn’t let her talk to him like this, he just couldn’t. "You… You…"
"Hey pal, what are you doing?"
Ellis whirled towards an aging man walking towards them. The man raised his arms in a defensive gesture, all the time talking to Ellis. "Wow, ow! Easy, pal, easy. You don’t want that thing to go off, do you?"
Ellis just looked at him, unseeing, his rage subsiding. He looked to Alessa who finally looked scared and at the man again. Cursing, he holstered the revolver again and walked steadily to the truck to retrieve its partner. Then he just walked towards the lane. He didn’t know where he wanted to go, just as far from Alessa as possible.
The moment Ellis disappeared round a bend of the path, Alessa's shoulders slumped down disheartedly. She closed her eyes; now that she was calmer she couldn’t believe she'd said those things to Ellis. The immensity of what had happened struck her. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
"Miss?" The old man tugged on her arm. "Miss, you okay?" His voice was filled with quiet concern.
She opened her eyes and nodded. As she calmed down her brain was dizzy with confusion and guilt.
"Come here, sit down." He led her over to a big rock. "I'll just go and call the police. You sure you're okay?"
Police. That was one thing she didn’t want to deal with now. Alessa glanced around at the spot for the first time. They had run off the road in a very isolated spot. There were no cars around, only the man's van parked near Ellis' wrecked truck. Alessa shook her head vehemently.
"I know, I know... I was scared too when he aimed that gun at me." The old man patted her hand reassuringly. "I'll call the police for you - it'll just be a minute."
Alessa glanced around again. There was no one around. She clenched her fist and was about to slam it up into the into the man's chin, to efficiently knock him out when she caught herself. She didn’t need to do nothing of the sort. Her lips tightened as terror began to overwhelm her - she had been about to hit an old man.
"Please," she said, as she controlled herself once again. "There's no need to call the police. I- My boyfriend and I just…"
She opened and closed her mouth, looking for words. Finally she gave in. "I'm sorry. Please don’t call the police," she added, softly.
The man nodded knowingly. "What about the truck?" he asked, looking at the wrecked vehicle. The gasoline had stopped dripping and it was evident it was not going to explode.
Alessa shrugged. "He'll be back for it, I guess." She gave the man a shaky smile. "To be blunt, I couldn’t care less."
The old man nodded again. "Well, would you let me get you back to town, at least?" he asked, smiling reassuringly. He hated to leave a young woman in an isolated spot like that, let alone with the crazy boyfriend still around.
Alessa just smiled and started walking towards his van.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 8th May 2007 - 11am
Marcus had managed to regain a measure of modesty by the time Onyx arrived and as the demon walked into the room he bent down to straighten Daye’s sprawled limbs and brush aside the tendrils of hair around her face.
Onyx walked into the room and Marcus straightened up. Picking up the champagne bottle he walked past her to the bathroom and poured the sparkling wine down the drain. “So how is… Robert, was it?”
“Yes, Robert. He’s having quite an enchanting conversation with Mr Dalton’s delightfully naïve assistant. While trying to hide just how aroused he is at the sounds coming through the walls.”
Marcus stopped in the doorway back to the lounge. “Pardon?”
“Marcus, look how she was dressed. Robert knew exactly what ‘business’ you and she were engaged in.”
“Ah…”
“Your father’s reputation does have its advantages occasionally.”
Marcus grimaced at that last. “True.”
Marcus paused and kept his eyes on Daye for a moment. He regretted drugging Amanda and wondered if it would have been better to take the easy way out and to have just given in to desire. *No, it wouldn’t have been.* He recalled Daye standing before him, suddenly embarassed as she realised just who he was. He remembered a woman eager to go home and renew her ties with her family.
Daye bore no resemblance to the woman who had callously disregarded her family with little more than a word. Perhaps Daye was now the aberration and Amanda the real woman but he wouldn’t, couldn’t take advantage of that difference till he was sure.
While Marcus had lost himself in thought Onyx had completed her preparations. Now she placed a hand at either side of Amanda’s temples. A black mist seeped from her fingertips to vanish into the supine woman’s skull. Marcus sighed. This would, he knew, take some time and he was glad he’d ordered some snacks before Amanda had arrived.
***
“I owe you an apology, Marcus.”
That was a rare thing from her and Marcus tried his best to suppress a smile. It wouldn’t do to offend Onyx any further. “Oh?”
“Unless Robert’s shield is a lot more than I think it is, I can sense no real damage from magic but her brain chemistry is all over the place – elevated neurotransmitter levels plus altered excitation and enervation thresholds. I’d say her basic drives have been magnified and it looks as if a lot of the ‘higher’ inhibitory functions have been... well, for want of a better term, ‘short-circuited’.”
“Basic drives? Like sex?”
“Exactly, and there’s not a lot left to create a sense of guilt either.” Onyx cocked her head, indicative that she was changing mental ‘space’. “It could just be a rather unique mental illness. Maybe some form of bipolar disorder?”
“That switches states when her magic is removed?” Marcus shook his head he didn’t believe in that sort of coincidence.
“I’m just looking at possibilities, Marcus. Maybe the magic loss is another symptom.”
“Maybe.” His tone showed what he thought of that suggestion. “On the other hand it might be a spell. There are a number of parasitic ones that feed off their victim’s energies.”
“Hmmm, it’s a possibility.”
The black mist appeared again, this time to engulf Amanda’s entire body before sinking into the flesh. Marcus went and got himself a drink. *More time…*
Half an hour later Onyx spoke again and her voice held a note of dismay. “It’s not a spell.”
Marcus grimaced; maybe Amanda was crazy.
“Actually, I’m not sure what it is but it’s nothing so structured as a spell. There’s something woven through her whole aura…” Onyx continued, “...very fine. If you didn’t know what to look for you’d never see it. And you’re right Marcus, it is a parasite.” Onyx inhaled, “and it’s biological.” The demon fell silent.
“Onyx?” Marcus called when the silence had gone on far too long for his liking.
“There’s some sort of agent. Too small for a bacteria; it must be a virus and it’s everywhere.” Onyx shifted again. “Her blood is loaded with it. It’s in the meniges… everywhere.”
“Is it…?”
“Replicating? Yes, but it seems to have reached homeostasis. It’s just replacing the particles her system is filtering out, and Marcus - if you were vulnerable you’d have it by now. Like I said it’s everywhere.”
“Can you cure it?”
“Given time…” Onyx hesitated, “Are you sure it would be wise to do so?”
“Pardon?”
“Amanda is currently able and willing to meet your requirements regarding the new property. I’m not sure the same could be said if she reverts to her normal mindset.”
“That might change when I refuse to sleep with her again.”
“She is attractive, willing and, if your previous encounters are any testament, enjoyable. Why would you refuse her?”
“Onyx! She’s engaged to be married.”
“That doesn’t seem to be an issue for her.”
“Only because of this virus. I am not going to take any further advantage of her, either personally or professionally, while this disease is affecting her judgement. We’ll deal with the issue of her completing the cleansing or not, when and if it occurs.”
“You’re letting personal concerns affect your judgement.”
“What about Robert?”
“Robert? I fail to see…”Onyx seemed confused by Marcus’ sudden switch of topic.
“There’s been no reoccurrence of Amanda’s voices. I think Robert’s shield is preventing their re-emergence. I doubt he’s doing so out of the goodness of his heart.”
“True.”
“He’s English, isn’t he?”
“A Watcher?” Onyx knew Marcus well enough to see where he was going with that comment.
“It’s a distinct possibility. Daye’s dropped the occasional hint that she had ties to the Council.”
Marcus did, however, admit that the inference was something of a stretch; after all, not every English mage in the world was a Watcher.
“There is no guarantee that curing the disease will stop the voices.”
“True, but to my knowledge they started after Amanda’s personality change. Which is due to the disease.” Marcus just hoped the connection was more than just coincidence, or that he hadn't confused cause and effect.
“If Robert is a Watcher then perhaps they’re already working on a cure…”
“Except they seem to have no problem allowing Amanda to continue her self destructive behaviour.”
“Andropov’s ‘rumours’.”
Marcus nodded. “Indeed. I think there may be something rotten in the Council.”
“It would not be the first time. A cure will take time.”
Marcus looked at the clock. “Which we are rapidly running out of.”
Amanda wasn’t one for savouring the afterglow and Onyx’s investigations had used up any leeway they may have had.
“I think we can be sure Amanda will be back, especially once you leave her a suitable memory of this afternoon’s events.” Marcus looked at the now melted ice in the champagne bucket. “Leave a trigger as well. Tied to my voice. I don’t want to have to go through this again.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***May 3rd, 2007- Adriana’s Apartment- 7:39 am***
“Twenty-one come June, but that’s beside the point,” the little girl announced, releasing her hands from her waist.
Adriana shook her head. “I really am going crazy…” she murmured, observing the girl.
Drea began to circle the girl, and this time it was her turn to have her hands on her waist. Her hands held the ends of her baggy white shirt. She stuck her tongue firmly in her cheek, her eyes never leaving the girl. “How is this possible… you being here?” she mused aloud.
The young Adriana smiled and replied, “I’m your subconscious speaking… with the help of some outside forces…” Seeing the woman’s confused face, she immediately went on, “I take the form of something that’ll get through to you.”
Present day Adriana raised her eyebrows. “Why a kid? Me as a kid, at that. Couldn’t my subconscious be in the form of Patrick Swayze?”
“If I was,” little Adriana began, gaining momentum in her voice, “then you wouldn’t be paying attention very well, now would you?”
Adriana turned her eyes away from the little-girl-she-once-was, hiding her guilty expression. She stopped and sighed, her eyes closing as she exhaled. Drea turned to her former self and asked, “Why are you here?”
The little Adriana closed the lid of the toilet, turned around, and plopped onto the seat. “I’d thought you’d never ask,” she commented, getting comfortable. The little girl looked at Adriana and continued, “You have to leave Brody and go home to your family. They need to fix what’s wrong with you, and Brody’s not helping-”
“You have no conception of what you’re talking about!” Adriana interrupted abruptly. “He’s done nothing wrong, so mind your own-”
“Oh, because every girl loves getting choked by ‘Prince Charming’,” little Adriana blurted, sarcasm marking her voice.
Drea sighed, leaning against the rose pink wall. She didn’t have time for this; she could be doing all sorts of things if this stupid girl wasn’t bothering her.
“Do you have anything important to tell me? I don’t have time for this shit; I have better things to do…” she began, when the girl chirped.
“What better things? Nothing you do is productive, as of late! You stopped attending classes; you leech off Brody; you quit your job… actually, we can accept that one considering where you worked, but the rest, we won’t! Staying with Brody will cost you dearly; more than you can imagine.”
Little Adriana groaned, her fingers gently massaging her temples, “God, if I was a real entity, I would strangle the creator of that damned virus myself…”
Adriana’s ears perked up. She focused on the little girl and replied, “What the hell are you talking about? I’m not sick…”
“No… you just think you’re not sick,” The girl spoke with all seriousness. Sighing, the little girl rose from her seat and began to circle Adriana. “God, it’s been almost two months since you’ve been infected. I believe… it was when you saw Cole…” she mused aloud.
Adriana thought back to her last encounter with Cole. He was fresh and snippy, insulting her and even performing a hex on her.
“That little bastard!” she hissed under her breath.
The little Adriana, worry sprouting from within, rushed over to Adriana and pleaded, “Don’t even worry about him! Don’t even go near him!”
Drea raised her eyebrows. This girl knew more than she was letting on. “What’s going on with Cole?” she inquired.
The little girl sighed. “None of your concern. What is your concern is leaving Brody!” she informed Adriana, pushing towards the original subject.
Adriana scoffed at the girl. “I told you once before, and I’m telling you it for the last time. There is no way in hell I’m leaving this guy. I have a beautiful apartment, I get the finest jewelry, I go to the hottest places in town, and I don’t have to do nothing for it!” she explained, lowering herself to the little girl’s level of view.
Little Adriana closed her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. “You are making a big mistake. Being with him will only cause bad things. He’ll destroy the one thing you’ve always wanted. Just please, leave him now…” she persisted.
Drea, tired and frustrated, shot up from her spot on the ground. “Go away!” she professed at her highest vocal.
When Adriana looked down, no one was there. Cautiously she looked around the bathroom. She was alone.
*What the hell is going on?* she thought, leaving her bathroom. As she walked away, the little Adriana stood in the bathroom shaking her head. Slowly she faded away into nothing.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, 7th May 2007 – 2pm
It had been a long flight from England and Jeet was exhausted. He stood outside the building on Poplar Avenue, staring at the entrance. It seemed so long ago since he'd been here; Evie had collected his things before the trip so he hadn't been home since before he was in hospital. Something felt different to how he remembered it. There was a chill in the air and Jeet felt slightly uneasy. He opened the door and made his way along the hallway to his door.
Darian was distracted as he left his apartment, thoughts of what the virus had done to Cole warring with ideas on where to look for a cure. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps in the hallway that he even looked up. Expecting to see one of the Tylers – he’d hardly heard a peep from Adriana’s apartment, and since she’d dumped him unceremoniously a part of him was really quite glad of that – he was surprised to find himself staring at Jeet’s weary face.
Blinking, Darian stammered, “Jeet! Wow… How are you? Uh, I mean, I heard you were out of hospital, but where’ve you been?”
Jeet stared at the man before him and held out his hand. "I’m good, thank you Darian. It's good to see you. I’ve been away for a while, just trying to get my head together, you know." Jeet smiled, "So how are you?"
Taking Jeet’s hand in a warm greeting, Darian’s head bobbed in an effort to both nod and shake it at the same time. “Well, some good, some bad. Here, let me help you with your things and I’ll tell you a bit about it.”
He smiled, taking the bag that Jeet offered him, and waited while Jeet fumbled through his pockets searching for his keys. Finally holding them aloft with a grin of triumph, Jeet opened the door and Darian trailed in behind him.
“Where do you want this?” Darian asked, holding out the bag.
"Just drop them anywhere, thanks." Jeet threw his keys onto the table, "Can I get you a drink?"
He opened the fridge and was greeted by the pungent smell of off milk. "Erm, think I need to go to the store first, sorry."
Darian’s nose wrinkled at the smell. “Yeah, I second the motion,” he said.
He carefully placed the bag on the floor next to the sofa and stood a little awkwardly in the centre of Jeet’s living room. He’d got to know Jeet a little during the first month the White Hats had been meeting regularly, but he felt a little guilty that he’d not even visited the man in hospital after his ‘accident’.
He didn’t detect any of that strange feeling from Jeet that he’d had from Cole and some of the others, so that was something at least. He coughed nervously.
“Uh, look,” Darian began, “A lot’s happened recently, but I don’t know if you want to hear about it all right now…”
Jeet motioned towards the sofa, "Take a seat." He sat opposite Darian and said, "Now's as good as time as any to get caught up I suppose."
Nodding slowly, Darian sat and wondered where to begin. With Cole acting strangely, or with that awful last meeting of the White Hats? He sighed and launched into the tale of the deal Tash had struck with Delancre and their suspicions about the Watcher’s true intent, the odd behaviour of many of their friends, Kate’s theories about the virus causing a lot of the weirdness, and finally the events surrounding Cole’s recovery.
“So basically,” he finished, “we’re trying to find a way to stop this virus and get everyone back to normal. Then we can worry about this Delancre guy and what he’s up to.”
Jeet paused and thought back to the dream in the hospital and what the girl Mina had said. He felt into his pocket and pulled out a flower. When he’d awoken from his coma he was still holding the flower she had given him in his dream. Jeet smiled to himself and returned it to his pocket. "So what’s the plan? Anything I can do?"
Darian smiled with both relief and uncertainty. Relief that here was one more person willing to fight this thing with them, and uncertainty as to whether any of them really could to anything to help.
“I hope so, Jeet. I really do. I think we should go see Kate soon – once you’ve had a chance to get some milk, anyway,” Darian grinned briefly before it faded again in worry.
“But what about you?” he continued. “We only heard a sketchy report of what happened to you. Are you okay?”
"Well I’m now bestowed with the amulet’s powers but apart from that I’m just the same old Jeet, you know." Jeet grinned at Darian.
“Bestowed with… uh-huh. So… you mean you can do that invisible stuff, and the healing and so on whenever you want? Cool.” Darian grinned, “That could come in handy.”
Posted on Neil's behalf due to crappy work computers
Daye runs into Tash on the practice field
*** Tuesday, 8th May 2007 – 5pm ***
*** Training grounds of the Watchers’ mansion ***
Daye strode slowly down the steps at the rear of the house, her gaze riveted on the demonic troops training behind the house. She found all the bare sweat covered flesh, human and not so human alike, made her mouth water in anticipation. So far, she'd only had the opportunity to sample some of the mages in Delancre's employ and as a whole they'd proved generally disappointing. Maybe the soldiers would make up for that.
Daye stopped on the edge of the field, enjoying for just a moment the sight before her. She stroked one hand down her own throat and sighed appreciatively.
“Feeling better?”
The question startled Daye from her reverie, and she jumped slightly before turning to face her questioner. Tash’s grin was suggestive; she could feel the desire flowing from Daye in waves and her eyes took in the balding, paunchy, older wizard standing a few feet behind the statuesque witch.
Before Daye could reply, Tash continued, “I see you’ve brought a friend with you. Does he watch while you..? Or,” and the grin grew even broader, “is he your port in a storm?”
Daye shot a look at Robert. The man was trying to be unobtrusive while blatantly staring at her. She laughed nastily. "Oh, yeah, he wishes," Daye replied, turning her attention back to Tash.
She did some blatant staring of her own. Tash had been out on the training field with the troops, and now she was standing in front of Daye displaying a fair amount of bare sweat covered flesh herself. Daye found herself involuntarily wetting her lips as she took in Tash dressed only in shorts and a tank top. *Yep, there's something to be said for these warrior types,* Daye thought as she eyed Tash's leanly muscled form.
"Actually, he's the one who's made me feel so much... yummier," Daye finally said. "I have to drag him around so he can maintain this shielding spell, but I doubt you're interested in that."
Daye perused Tash once more. "You look... healthy," Daye's voice dripped with seduction. "I guess allying with the Council really agrees with you."
Tash laughed mirthlessly. “Well, it does something for me, that’s for sure,” she said, ignoring Daye’s come-on and changing the subject. “So, he shields you – from those voices, I presume?”
Daye looked bored and annoyed at the reminder. "Yeah, my 'mothers' and their oh-so-useful advice. Apparently, they were driving me crazy, literally. But Sir Ambrose was kind enough to take care of that problem. I owe him a lot." Daye's tone and features spoke volumes about her opinion of Lord Delancre now. She really did feel as if he'd saved her.
*God help me, another Ana,* Tash thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Outwardly she smiled perfunctorily, “That’s great, Daye. You’re looking much better than you were the other day, that’s for sure.”
While she mouthed the words, Tash couldn’t help but wonder at Delancre’s motives for helping Daye. Surely she was far less dangerous to his plans as a whimpering, gibbering wreck than in her current lucid state – although Daye’s main concern right now seemed to be finding a bed partner. The thought also occurred to her that the simple removal of Robert might produce some interesting results, should the need arise.
Tash followed Daye’s gaze out over the training field, mostly relieved and only a little disappointed that the woman’s attention had moved away from her body. She could practically feel Daye’s quickening pulse as she watched the large, muscular demons practising on the field. Tash leaned in close to Daye and asked conspiratorially, “So, which one do you fancy the most?”
Daye grinned at Tash’s question and turned her gaze back on the demons arrayed before her. “Hmmm… I’m not sure… I haven’t been with a lot of nonhumans, you know. Any suggestions?”
Tash chuckled deep in her throat. “Well, I can’t say my experience runs to a great deal of variety,” she said, adding mentally, *Though more so than it was a week ago.*
She surveyed the options before them. “You have quite a choice there – do you want plain old muscular and strong, or were you interested in a little something extra to spice it up? Some of the demons here have all sorts of enhancements, from spikes, tails and horns to magical ability.”
Daye was practically drooling as she let her eyes wander the field. Tash's words definitely rang true. She could see for herself that the demons in Delancre's army ran the gamut, from the humanoid to the utterly alien and everything in between. It was a smorgasbord of potential deviance.
"Oh... they all look so very... fierce," Daye remarked. She was going to ask something else, when suddenly something familiar about one of the demons across the field caught her attention. He was leading a group in some style of hand to hand combat that Daye was completely unfamiliar with. Daye gasped as he suddenly turned in her direction and she could see his face. The demon was scarred, horribly, but beneath the ridged slashes across his face, his features were unmistakable.
"Is it possible?" she wondered aloud, completely forgetting that Tash was standing there listening to her. "I saw him die... didn't I?"
Tash frowned and tried to follow where Daye was gazing so intently. “You mean NightWalker?” she asked. “He’s Ana’s second… but he’s a pretty miserable bastard, moping around all the time. I don’t think you’d get much fun out of him. He’s ugly, too.” She cocked her head at Daye and asked, “And what do you mean you saw him die? Did you have a run-in with him somewhere?”
Daye turned back to Tash. She looked confused and... intrigued. "Nightwalker? Is that what he's calling himself? Well, that's fitting, I suppose," she mused. "Tash, that ma... demon, that's Ryan. Or at least I'm almost sure it is."
“Ryan?” Tash blinked and took another look at the demon. She’d never met Ryan, back when he was causing Daye all those troubles, but she’d heard plenty about it from Daye, Kate and Reah – mostly Kate and Reah, really, since the subject had been a bit touchy for Daye.
“You mean the Ryan that was your lover while you were young, and who you thought was dead but then he came back and tormented you and impregnated you with Maia and was then killed by Reah and Galen while some goddess tried to manifest? That Ryan?”
Daye laughed loudly at Tash's brief description of her history with that particular demon. "Yeah, that Ryan. My, my, my, I wonder what he's doing here, and how he managed to survive. I'm fuzzy on the details, but I could have sworn Galen made sure he was dead last time he was in L.A."
With a shrug, Tash said, “Dunno. I guess Galen wasn’t as handy with a knife as he thought he was. Or maybe NightWalker’s got some regenerative powers. Mind you, from the description I’ve heard of him, he was a lot prettier then than he is now. Maybe Delancre helped him, too,” she added with a twisted smile.
She gestured to the field, “Well, he’s certainly not my type, but if you want to renew your acquaintance he’s right there. Who knows, maybe you’ll get another kid.”
Tash made herself go still, kicking herself already for bringing up the subject of Daye’s unusual progeny. While in Colombia, she’d learned what it was that Delancre needed to fulfil his dream of godhood. No need to go talking too much on the topic in front of Daye – the last thing they needed was for some spark of maternal instinct to flare up through the virus. Pushing thoughts of Delancre’s plans from her mind she smiled at Daye, watching the impact her suggestion made on the woman.
Daye rolled her eyes. "Please, I just barely managed to get rid of the last brat," she retorted. "I'm taking precautions now, believe me."
Daye turned back to watch Nightwalker for a few minutes. "But you're right, he used to be a lot prettier... downright gorgeous in either form..." Daye sighed regretfully. "Shame, really ,but I'm looking for something... different tonight."
Daye turned her speculative eye back on Tash. "I don't see anything in particular here that I just have to have." Daye leaned closer to Tash and dropped her voice to a low whisper only for the other woman's ears. "Unless you're game to try something new."
Tash laughed merrily and leaned towards Daye herself, closing the distance between them to no more than a few molecules of air. She whispered into Daye’s ear, “Sorry, been there, done that.”
As she pulled back she let her hand trail down Daye’s shoulder and across the top of her breast before stepping back fully. “But thanks for asking anyway.”
She whirled to leave and called softly over her shoulder with a smirk, “Have fun catching up with Ryan.”
Daye shrugged. "Whatever," she muttered, before turning her attention back to the practice field. She'd just have to find one or two willing warriors to play with instead.