*** 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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Delancre discusses the Dynos Prophecy with his flunkies
*** Wednesday, May 9, 2007, 11 am ***
*** Mage Library at the Council House ***
Two nervous witches and one very uncomfortable man sat around a small wooden table littered with scrolls, note papers, and various tomes. They all watched the man pacing the quietly elegant room. None of them wanted to be the one to break the silence.
Bertram Miles was a well educated, scholarly man, who’d devoted nearly all of his adult life to serving the Watchers’ Council. He was an expert on one vital area, prophecy. He’d accurately interpreted more ancient prophecies, from more varied cultures, than any other man living today. He had a very good reputation among scholars of his ilk. He was an unparalleled genius in his field.
He was also a bloody coward. Bertram had one fatal flow. He was terrified of magic. Magic, in any form, be it natural or unnatural to this Earth, made him break out into a cold sweat. This was a well known and often derided fact among the members of the Council. Anyone outside that esteemed group who happened to learn the truth was completely flabbergasted by it. Why would a man with such an obvious phobia of the arcane want to work for a group whose very existence revolved around magic in its many and varied forms?
The truth was that Bertram simply could see no way around becoming a part of the Watchers’ Council. They had the best resources, the most complete collection of prophecies to be found anywhere in the world. Bertram could no more walk away from such a treasure than he could accept a witch into his personal life. There was no question that he had to be a part of the Council.
Bertram had simply cultivated a reclusive reputation and kept his distance as much as humanly possible from the proliferation of mages, witches, wizards, and the like. That plan had worked fairly well, too. It had saved him from the Scourge. It had protected him for years. Until Lord Ambrose Delancre took the reins and rebuilt the Council, that was.
Delancre, along with being incredibly intelligent, wealthy, and charming, possessed a terrifying degree of knowledge about magic and a powerful magical talent as well. He was the embodiment of all of Bertram’s worst fears. And now the man paced a few feet away, obviously disappointed with Bertram’s findings.
“Sir, we haven’t exhausted all the options,” Bertram said tentatively. “There were many subtle nuances in the Atlantean language, and as we have only texts translated into either ancient Gaelic or one of the core Norse tongues, it can be tricky figuring out exactly what the true meaning of any of the Prophecies of Dynos really is. We may yet find a ‘loophole’.”
Ambrose Delancre stopped dead in his tracks and swung around, turning his full attention of Bertram Miles. The little old man in the tweed jacket and round spectacles represented the stereotypical Watcher. Save for his little problem. Magic terrified Bertram, and Delancre knew it. He took petty pleasure in reminding the man as often as possible that he was surrounded at all times by the magical trappings and practitioners.
“I have been inordinately patient,” Delancre said. “I don’t believe anyone could question my patience, Mr. Miles. I grow very weary of always hearing the same thing. It is unbelievably difficult trying to convince Miss Blaise to just turn over the child to me. I want you to find another way.”
Bertram swallowed nervously. “Well, yes… sir, I understand,” he stammered. “If there was… that is, if I had found… You’re better off with the witches, sir. The prophecy has been terribly clear.”
Delancre rolled his eyes. “Well, Esme, Falona, have you got anything better then? Have you discovered a means to get around the ‘Guardian clause’?”
Both witches glared at Bertram for a moment. The poor man sank down into his chair, shaking visibly. Finally, the younger woman spoke. Her voice bespoke her low born English heritage.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, yer Lordship, but we ain’t found anythin’ either,” she said. “Wha’ever design or plan’s behind this ‘ere thing, it’s bloody foolproof, it is. The girl... she’s the on’y one who’s can give you the babe.”
Delancre wanted to lash out in a blind rage at these people. He had the best of the best in his employ, and yet no one could find a way around the Dynos. He wanted that baby. Maia was a key to the future, but she could only be guided by “The Guardian” and that role had been handed down through generations of the Blaise family. In order for him to make Maia his, as he’d done with the Slayer, Delancre had to convince a Blaise to hand over guardianship of the girl of their own free will. He’d been searching for years for a way around that rule, an easier way, but to no avail. He would have to convince Daye to give him Maia.
“Fine, fine then,” Delancre snapped. “But don’t stop looking, just to be safe. And report to me immediately if any of you learn anything.”
The three nodded and began to agree with him, their words tripping out in an unintelligible jumble. Delancre ignored the lot of them and strode out of the room, irritation evident in every line of his body.
Robert listens in on Daye
*** Wednesday, May 9, 2007, 8:06 pm ***
*** Daye’s sitting room in the Council house ***
Robert Forth sat on the lushly overstuffed sofa in Amanda Blaise’s sitting room. The woman herself was a mere twenty feet away, behind the closed door of her bedroom, where she’d retired with four overly-muscled, dunderheaded demons about fifteen minutes earlier. Robert could clearly hear the muffled groans and husky laughter filtering in from the other room. He gritted his teeth and tried to think of something else. It was near impossible. Every night was like this and he was growing so weary of it.
Robert was well aware that Miss Blaise was never going to throw one of her ‘come hither’ gazes his way. Why would she? No other woman ever had, and well, Amanda wasn’t exactly your run of the mill woman, was she? She was hot, white hot. Robert found himself fantasizing about her more and more with each passing day. She was powerful as well. He was connected to her through the spell. He could feel her power. It turned him on almost as much as her lush body and her deviant tastes.
Besides, she showed him a distinct disdain. Amanda seemed to revel in tormenting him. She took especial pleasure in continually reminding him that he would never find his way into her bed.
Robert Forth was an exceptional wizard, and a completely uninteresting man. He was intelligent, frighteningly so, and therefore too self aware to delude himself at all. He was nondescript in every way, save his magic. He was balding and had been from a very early age, losing the thin dull brown hair on his head, while with each passing year he grew hair in less acceptable places. Robert had always despised physical exertion, mostly because he didn’t excel at it, so his body was far from California perfection, and he knew his features were as bland as the rest of him.
Robert had begun to explore the magical arts at a young age. He’d shown an aptitude for magic, and had been invited into the Watchers’ Council. He had hoped that by obtaining power he would make himself more attractive. Unfortunately, that hadn’t proven to be the case. Call it bad luck or bad genetics; Robert was just too plain, too uninspiring. He couldn’t get ahead with women or in the Council’s ranks. He was constantly passed up for choice assignments, made to watch as less adept but flashier wizards gained status and power in the organization.
He was sick and tired of it. He knew that he’d only been given this assignment because Lord Delancre had figured that Amanda wouldn’t show him the time of day. Delancre wanted to be sure that Amanda wouldn’t entice her protector, and thereby divide the man’s loyalty. For that reason, Robert Forth had been the perfect candidate to fill the position.
So he found himself night after night sitting in this room, listening to the sounds of debauchery seep through the closed door behind him. And whenever Amanda did deign to notice his presence, it was always to rub his nose (once all too literally) in her sexual conquests and his nonexistent chance of ever joining the ranks. Robert tried to concentrate. He tried to block out the sounds, to close his mind to the images conjured by those sounds, but it was hopeless. He wanted to be the one making Amanda scream. Just once, Robert Forth wanted to be the object of someone’s lust. But there was little chance of that happening.
More and more, Robert was growing to hate the woman in his charge. He thought she was haughty. Her conceit, her utter disregard fueled his frustration and fury. He wanted desperately to take the mighty Miss Blaise down a peg or two. As time went by, the thought of somehow making her see his power, making her bow to his superiority, became more seductive than the thought of sexual conquest. More than anything, as he sat in the sitting room, being tormented by sounds and thoughts, Robert thought that what he’d really give anything for would be the chance to make Amanda Blaise pay, not just for the insults she’d heaped on him, but for every insult he’d endured from other women just like her.
Amanda grew in his mind to represent them all, the women, but also the superiors; all those who’d ignored or discounted him in his entire life. He wanted to make her pay, to make them all pay. If only he could think of a way to do so. Robert Forth wouldn’t hesitate at the chance to, just once, show them all he was more dangerous than they had ever realized.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 9th May 2007 – 1:45pm
Tash strode casually into The Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel and crossed straight to the elevator banks, letting none of her nervousness show. It was time to pay her first instalment to Marcus for his services, and she just hoped that he wasn’t disappointed with the results of his deal. She worried that she wouldn’t know enough to adequately cover her debt, and Marcus struck her as a man on whose good side it paid to stay. Apart from anything else, he was really the only person in Los Angeles who could come close to helping her out with any other necromancy problems that might arise.
Smoothing down the hem of her bright blue dress, she momentarily caught sight of herself in the mirrored wall of the lift and flashed on the memory of the first time she’d worn this. It was an outfit she’d bought specifically for going out with Victor, in their early days together. She’d only worn it today because it was one of the few dresses she owned and although she hated to put on airs, at the very least she was aware that turning up in jeans and a scruffy t-shirt to this place was a good way to be thrown out of the hotel.
The elevator reached Marcus’ floor with a ‘ping’ and the doors slid open noisily. Turning her head, Tash oriented herself and checked off the door numbers until she found the one she’d been given. She rapped on it lightly and waited.
Onyx heard the knock on the door and let her awareness range outwards. When the unmistakable sense of Natasha filtered back to her, the demon smiled. Miss Brooks had called earlier to arrange the first of the meetings with Marcus but Onyx had other reasons for wanting to see the woman.
Onyx opened the door and greeted Tash with a smile a touch warmer than she normally displayed. “Hello, Natasha. So nice to see you.”
Tash smiled in return, though it was more friendly and less intimate than Onyx’s. Onyx had proved a welcome – and perhaps necessary – outlet for her pent up energies after the first raising, but Tash wasn’t interested in pursuing such a relationship. *God knows I have enough on my plate without starting a romance with yet another demon.*
“Onyx, lovely to see you, too,” Tash said, but moved straight on to business. “I’m here to have my first ‘chat’ with Marcus.”
“Yes of course.” Onyx gave a slight nod and moved out into the corridor, closing the door. “The desk has instructions to direct any enquires for Mr Dalton to myself.” Onyx let herself brush against Natasha as she moved past her towards the door at the far end. “It’s this way.”
Keeping her face impassive, Tash didn’t let herself react either negatively or positively to the deliberate contact from Onyx, though the memory of that night was etched brightly in her mind. *Nothing personal, sweetie,* she thought, *but I’m too busy for personal relationships right now.*
Following Onyx up the hallway, she smiled when they stopped at another door. “You keep him well protected,” Tash observed.
“As best as circumstances allow. Some say the measure of a man is the quality of his enemies. I prefer otherwise.” Onyx gestured to the doorway. “His office in on the right.”
Sensing a dismissal, Tash let her hand rest lightly on Onyx’s for a moment before she opened the door. There was a faint sense of hope, of desire, and of… curiosity? No, that wasn’t quite right. It was more a willingness to wait and see. Tash felt she couldn’t let Onyx continue to believe there was hope for anything more than they’d already had – if she didn’t nip it in the bud it could get ugly further down the track.
So she smiled sadly and said, “Thank you for the other night, Onyx. It helped me greatly. I trust you were satisfied, too. I’ve… since then the rituals have proved far easier on me, in that regard.”
Onyx stood outside the door for a moment of two after Natasha had gone through. *You're not interested in anything more?* Onyx gestured towards the doorway. She would have to be careful – Natasha was a telepath and a psychometrist. Onyx couldn’t afford to be clumsy. *We’ll see,* Onyx thought as the magic, tenuous as cobwebs, floated across the frame.
Just inside the door Tash shivered for a moment, as though a chill breeze had passed over her. Ignoring the brief sensation she knocked upon the door to the right as Onyx had indicated, and once more waited patiently.
Unlike recent meetings he’d conducted in his office Marcus felt no need to resort to theatrics. While his Orb of Thessala was present it wasn’t the sole illumination for the room. Instead, the curtains had been thrown back to allow light to flood in. Despite that, an experienced practitioner would still notice the faint glow.
Marcus himself was dressed informally. There were a few books scattered around. He had no specific questions for Natasha but he did intend to gauge just how much she knew. He doubted any student’s defence of a thesis would as gruelling. “Come in, Miss Brookes.”
“Just Tash will be fine,” she said as she opened the door and nodded to Marcus, “or I’ll have to resort to calling you Mr Dalton again. I think after you’ve seen me cavorting naked among a pile of dead llamas we’re beyond formalities.”
"Tash then," he said with a faint smile as he gestured to a chair. "Have a seat. Would you like a drink?"
Force of habit from her time spent with Delancre had Tash shaking her head almost automatically, “No, thanks.”
The Orb sitting on Marcus’ desk drew her gaze for a moment. It was aglow with the soft light of an inhabiting soul, and Tash idly wondered whose it was. The last time she’d encountered such a device was when Victor had found the thirteen orbs planted on him by Talhu. It was soon after her encounter with Ohenewaa and she’d been able to use one of the vodoun queen’s rituals to free the souls. Now she wondered why she’d been so hasty. Perhaps it would have been better to keep them for an emergency, as it seemed Marcus did.
Lifting her eyes to meet his, she smiled, “Well, down to business then? Your first instalment is ready – just pick a topic.”
“I thought we’d do something a little more far ranging today. Plumb the breadth and depth of your knowledge before we get into specifics. I don’t know where you real specialities lie, so I thought it best to see what we both know.”
Tash nodded. “All right. Well, I explained briefly how I came by this knowledge. Most of it stems from vodoun practices, and most of that of the not-so-nice variety.” She offered Marcus a smile, “I was, in fact, meant to be the latest in a long line of sacrifices to perpetuate the life and increase the power of that priestess I told you about. Her name was Ohenewaa. After nearly six hundred years I’m sure there are plenty of stories about her floating about. Most of her long life she spent gathering power to herself and her acolytes, and she had a fairly thorough grasp of her field.”
Tash cocked her head at the Orb that lay gleaming on Marcus’ desk. “For instance, soon after I’d gained her memories I used a simple ritual to release the souls from a number of such devices.” Her expression grew pensive as she added, “Though perhaps I should have kept one – as you do – for a rainy day.”
Marcus glanced down at the orb. “More of a reminder of the price of things.”
He pondered Tash’s words for a second then nodded. “So you’ve a solid grasp of the petro rites and anything darker. In fact your knowledge of necromancy is filtered through the whole voodoo framework. Well we can work with that, and six hundred years of practice must have covered just about anything and everything.”
Necromancers were so often solitary practitioners and the occult mainstream frowned on such activities so much that very often newcomers to the art were just rediscovering spells and methods lost hundreds of years earlier. The Daltons had progressed so much because the family had been able to accumulate so much knowledge and pass it on. Tash was a veritable treasure trove. Marcus cast his mind over some of the problems the Daltons had come across in the last millennia; the necromantic equivalent of the Rieman hypothesis or Fermat’s last theorem. Picking one he frowned then pulled out a pad and began to draw the ritual. A visual description was obviously the best way for them to interface their respective magical traditions.
"Let's try the hard stuff first shall we?"
Eyeing the complexity of the diagrams Marcus drew, Tash blew out her breath in a long stream. “Quite.”
As the markings went down on the paper, however, pieces clicked into place in Tash’s brain. It wasn’t so much as if this was something she knew well – it was more that it was something she’d learned long ago and was just now remembering. As the ritual took shape in two dimensions, Tash could see that sections of it resembled things that Ohenewaa had done and although she wanted to lean forward and add her own scribblings to what Marcus was jotting down, she restrained herself until he was done and pushed the paper towards her.
Seeing it right side up, Tash scanned it then grabbed a pen of a different colour and began to jot notes in the margins. “I… remember, for want of a better word, a ritual where I – she – wanted to achieve a more subtle effect than usual. Now, she used magic here,” Tash circled a portion of the diagram, “to warp the, um… It’s so hard to find the words for what she did sometimes, I’m sorry. Unless you want to take a Ghanese language class as well?” Tash laughed.
Marcus smiled and shook his head, and Tash tapped her pen on the section in question. “So yes, she used magic here to warp the… well, it’s a sort of link between the living and the spirits of their ancestors. I’m sure you have a name for it, but the only word I have is mzimu. It’s a delicate twist, not readily apparent to anyone except perhaps the most adept aura readers. She would use it to essentially curse someone, but it could work here to either strengthen or weaken a person’s connection to a particular ancestor of theirs. Since it seems a central part of this problem is to isolate one voice from hundreds of ancestors, it might help.”
Marcus looked it over. The solution would work but it was a work-around, a specific means to solve the problem in just one instance. Marcus knew a couple of others but none of them, including Natasha’s solution, suggested a general result. As such he had an extra way of using this particular combination of elements but no way of using their power more generally. Still, maybe Tash did have more memories tucked away about this grouping. Marcus sketched out one of the Dalton’s solution. “Did you… er she, ever consider something like this?”
Pondering for a moment, Tash nodded. “Yes, yes. Ah… yes, the problem with doing it that way is that there’s a tendency for the link to attenuate until it’s almost useless. I imagine whoever used that solution had to be very careful to hold onto the threads. Hmm,” she leant both her elbows on the table and considered the problem carefully.
“What you need is some way to achieve this in conjunction with these here,” she said, pointing out other key elements of the ritual. “To maintain the overall effect without having to adjust for individual circumstances each time. Hmmm…”
Sinking deep into thought, Tash grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and began making her own diagrams and notations, linking certain sections of the ritual in different ways. Several sheets of paper wound up scrunched into bundles on the floor, and as the afternoon wore on both Marcus’ and Tash’s handwriting filled several pages as they collaborated on finding the optimum solution.
“There,” Tash placed the final stroke with a flourish. “How about that then? It removes the redundancy we had,” she gestured vaguely in the direction of a pile of discarded papers, “back there without sacrificing the generality of the solution. And,” she perused the finished result, which took up only half the space of the initial problem Marcus had described, “I believe it’s quite elegant.”
“Yes… elegant is definitely the word.” Marcus looked at the solution to a problem that had plagued his family for years. In and of it self it wasn’t a great deal but it opened up vistas that they hadn’t before been able to reach. Not only that, but Marcus was forced to accept that Tash was more than just a set of memories. There was a living, breathing mind attached to all that knowledge and though she seemed… rusty, it was obvious that she had quite the flair for the subject.
Marcus rocked back in his chair and looked at the clock. The sunlight slashing through his windows had turned it a rich golden hue and it was quite obvious they’d spent much more time on the problem than he had realised. “Well now Tash, I believe I’ve kept you far longer than either of us expected. Can I offer some refreshment before you leave, or do you have urgent business?”
Tash hesitated. She was expected at the mansion this evening, but not for another couple of hours. And she’d need to eat anyway. And what was wrong about having dinner with someone with whom you’d just developed a professional rapport? Tash put out of her mind the fact that she’d screwed his demonic assistant senseless just last week, and let a warm smile creep across her face.
“Actually, no urgent business. Something to eat would be lovely, thanks.”
Diversionary Tactics
Thursday 10th May 2007 – 9:45am
What was it? A damn fluke, that’s what.
Reah was bent over the ground floor counter leaning on her elbows while absently tapping the portable phone aerial against the polished glass surface; before her lay a scene of madness and mayhem which had a small smile pulling at the edge of her still healing lip. The purple bruise around her eyes seemed to make their glint all the more wicked, too. Customers everywhere, and she was all on her little lonesome. Thursday had never been worse – this Thursday couldn’t have been any better if she’d planned it herself.
She’d been hard pressed by Nik and Alessa to come up with a way to distract Tash while they infiltrated Delancre’s, but much to her distress there weren’t many ways you could find to distract a telepath without the telepath knowing what you were up to.
Unless of course you could distract yourself.
Tash grumbled to herself as she parked the bike outside the Armoury and went inside. “Tash, BIG emergency. Come down to the Armoury, quick!”
That had been the opening salvo of a very strange conversation from Reah, which had ended with Tash reluctantly agreeing to go down to the Armoury to help out on a busy morning. Reah had been very vague on the phone when Tash had asked about where Nikolai and Alessa – her usual helpers – had disappeared to, just that they’d gone off to do some errands that day.
Pushing open the door, Tash was roughly pushed aside by an exiting customer, a burly man with missing teeth, black stubble on his chin and breath that would knock an elephant flat at a hundred paces. Reeling from the after effects of the encounter, Tash entered the shop fully and surveyed the milling throng inside. For a moment she considered just turning around and walking right out again, but she had given her word.
Sighing, she pushed her way to the counter and leaned across to Reah. “Is it always like this in here?”
“Fucken oath, mate! I’ve been shat on and fucked over so bloody much of late. You’re an absolute lifesaver, I tell ya,” Reah said, her accent emphasised a lot more as she shook her head at the other woman in disbelief that wasn’t too hard too hard to muster considering this was out of the ordinary for a Thursday morning. “I swear, Nik and Les better not be fucking around with me too, or I am just going to crack it at them tomorrow!”
Without wasting another moment more, Reah was quick to run Tash over what she needed her to help with while trying to fix the odd customer on the way and had Tash running up basic cash sales and directing customers on their merchandise while Reah quickly skipped off downstairs to the basement. Ten minutes later she was running back upstairs, a broadsword in hand, motioning Tash to swap. “I swear, between the basement and ground level, it’s frighteningly hard to remember who the real friggen monsters are.”
When Tash disappeared down the winding basement stairs – if somewhat grudgingly – the door swung shut with a click that was drowned out by the bustling crowd as Reah heaved a sigh of relief, eyes flashing up to the open street momentarily to notice Tash’s bike still parked out front before she continued on serving a balding customer that looked way too much like the scabbing demon she’d just left. Subconsciously checking her bare wrist after yet another ten minutes for the time, Reah wondered just how much longer she had to wait before the real “distraction” kicked in – whatever that was going to turn out be. As if this wasn’t enough already!
With hardly time to think about anything at all, Tash found herself knee deep in demons clamouring to view assorted weapons, and trying to remember which buttons to press on the cash register when they handed over payments. “No, no. American dollars only,” she kept repeating to one customer who was attempting to buy a knife in exchange for a dead rat.
After what seemed an eternity but was probably only an hour or so, Reah appeared once more at the top of the basement stairs to swap positions again.
“Damn, Reah, I don’t know how you do this day in and day out. I’d much rather fight monsters,” Tash commented as they passed each other wearily on the stairs.
Just as Tash was reaching the top of the stairs and Reah managed to heave another sigh at the sight of the thinning crowd she knew was reflected to an even greater degree on the ground floor, a thunderous boom sounded on the massive bank vault door at the sewer entrance that arrested them both.
*Ah, crap…* “Trust,” Reah harrumphed. *Should have guessed.*
As expected, Tash seemed to catch onto Reah’s half expectant, pessimistic slouch and raised an unspoken question with a single eyebrow.
“Local vampire gang,” Reah moaned back up at her with a tired nod. “Been trying to bust us for ages, but luckily haven’t managed to breach our security yet. I’ve tried picking them off once in a while, but haven’t found their lair yet. We should be all right.”
The remaining customers were looking doubtful, the more human ones clambering up past Reah and Tash to try and escape any trouble, while the less fortunate braced themselves for whatever lay on the other side. Reah, confident that today was the day they were going to break through, jumped off the last step and moved swiftly across to retrieve a heavy double-edged axe off the wall while grabbing a crossbow just alongside it that she tossed back up to the other woman.
Another boom rang out and Reah tightened her grip on the axe. After the third or fourth time, the only sound she could hear was the pounding of her own blood in her ears. “Here we go…”
Something tingled at the nape of Tash’s neck, but everything she was sensing from Reah matched the situation – surprise, anticipation for the fight, a sense of resignation at the inevitable. Shrugging it off, Tash put it down to the growing cold chill she was receiving from the vampires.
“You know,” Tash commented as she cocked the crossbow and aimed it at the rapidly disintegrating door, “I really hate it when I get unexpected guests for lunch.”
If Reah made a reply, Tash didn’t hear it as the door gave way. Vampires began pouring into the room, and the couple of remaining customers – Carnyss demons who’d stayed for a fight – gripped their weapons and stepped forward. Their fangs gleamed wetly in excited anticipation and Tash could have sworn their skin took on an even ruddier hue than normal.
She loosed her first bolt at one of the lead vampires and smiled in satisfaction at the dust cloud that subsequently floated to the floor. Quickly reloading, she fired off a second bolt that thumped home. Then melee was joined below her, rendering the crossbow all but useless if she didn’t want to risk impaling her friends. Tash drew out a stake and vaulted down the stairs to join Reah and the demons, grinning widely as tooth and claw met fist and stake.
*****
“Shit, what a mess.”
Tash stood on the bottom step in the basement, facing the vault door that had been all but wrenched off its hinges. Piles of dust lay scattered everywhere, as did most of the merchandise amongst the shattered glass that littered the floor. At least two display cases had suffered total destruction during the brawl.
She watched disinterestedly as Reah paid off the Carnyss demons who had helped in the fight by giving them half price on the short swords they’d been looking at. Bowing their thanks, the demons ventured back out the sewer entrance they’d used to get to the shop, leaving Tash and Reah alone.
“You’re sure you don’t want to go after the survivors?” Tash asked. “I’m sure we could still catch up with them.”
“Nah. I can’t leave the shop. I mean- oh, bloody crap! Nobody was upstairs, were they? Fuck!”
Dashing up the stairs, Reah burst into the street-level portion of the shop with Tash close on her heels. It looked like most of the shoppers had done nothing more than run for their lives when the customers boiling up from below had gibbered about a big fight, but some of the more adventurous had obviously helped themselves to a few five-fingered discounts.
“Ah, shit!” Reah kicked at the edge of the counter. “I’ll get the bastards. It’s all on film,” she nodded to the cameras mounted throughout the shop, “so I’ll get it from ’em one way or another. But now it means I have to track the mongrels down.”
With a sigh Reah bolted the front door and surveyed the mess left in the front room and tried not to think about how much work would be involved in fixing the basement.
“Well, it looks like we’re closed to the public for a couple of hours… Wanna give me a hand tidying this place up again?”
Tash glanced around at the debris left by stampeding customers and the disarray caused by the shoplifters, and also thought about the disaster area that was the basement. She had a session scheduled for 2pm that afternoon, but figured that between the two of them they had enough time to fix the place back up to a semblance of normalcy. And most importantly, Reah would owe her a big favour. She put on a determined smile.
“Sure, where would you like me to start?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Thursday, 10th May 2007 - 10:12am – Kate and Galen’s House***
Alessa parked Tash’s bike in the lane leading to Kate’s garage, behind a big bush so it was hidden from the street. She had just stolen the bike from the Armoury’s front door, after assuring herself that Tash was in the basement with Reah. Of course, Tash would know she took the bike the moment she touched it, but by then she would know about the intrusion anyway when Delancre made any commentary about her and her guests’ visit, but hopefully by that time it wouldn’t matter.
She walked to the house door and straightened her shoulders before knocking. She was nervous, and not only because of what lay ahead; she hadn’t seen Kate in many months and with all that had happened she felt guilty. She had intended to come visit her after Emma’s death, but somehow she had never got round to doing it. She was at fault and she didn’t really know how she’d face the witch again.
Kate had been awaiting Alessa’s arrival so it was no surprise when she heard the firm knock at the door. The demoness was to arrive in good time before Nikolai so that they could perform the aura spell that would complete the deception before they made their way to the Watchers’ Council Headquarters.
Walking to the door Kate couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. She hadn’t seen Alessa in months, not since January when she had gone to England to hear the reading of Ernie’s will. Since then Chance had died and Alessa had been kidnapped and rescued. Kate had sincerely meant to call on Alessa once she’d returned home but then Emma had died and… Kate sighed wearily, pushing the sudden rush of emotions down low again. No, she couldn’t afford to let her feelings overwhelm her when she had such important work to take care of.
“Alessa,” Kate said gently as she pulled the door open, seeing her friend for the first time in ages. She was suddenly hit with a flood of thoughts and emotions, some harrowing and painful while others were dredged in sorrow and regret. Kate smiled softly as she ushered the woman inside and closed the door. The two of them stood in silence for a moment before Kate enveloped the woman in a warm embrace.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said quietly, feeling more overwhelmed than she had expected to. “I’m so sorry… …I never got to say how sorry I am about Chance.”
“Oh, Kate...” Alessa said, responding to the witch’s embrace with gratitude. Her eyes filled with tears as she held her, feeling engulfed by Kate’s warmth. “And I’m so sorry about your baby, I should have come earlier… please forgive me.”
Kate had taken the opportunity of the embrace to allow her to read the surface thoughts in Alessa’s mind and smiled again at the feeling of absolute sincerity and genuine emotion that came through in Alessa’s words. Nik had said that she had this ‘virus’ too, but it was obvious that if she did it was significantly weaker than the strain that Koyla had. Kate could barely even sense a hint of the same tangled synthesis of malevolence that had lurked inside her other friends.
*Maybe she found a cure and didn’t realise it,* thought Kate as she drew back from Alessa’s embrace with a slight feeling of regret. *Or maybe her immune system has started fighting against it. She’s Verbati after all, maybe they’re more resistant…*
“It’s okay,” she said aloud, leading Alessa towards the kitchen. “I understand why you didn’t, I mean… with Chance… it must have felt a bit too…” Kate wanted to say ‘familiar’ but it didn’t seem to be the right word, instead she just let the sentence hang in the air. “But I should have come to see you, I heard about what happened in England, the kidnapping and…” again Kate cut herself short as she sensed a sudden flare of anxiety in Alessa. She offered the woman a chair and took one herself as they sat at the kitchen table.
“Let’s just say, I kind of know how that feels. It’s not really something you ever forget, that feeling of being…” Kate frowned a little, “helpless, I guess. But you know, you can overcome it eventually, taking control back of your life, that kind of thing.”
Alessa chuckled, and apologised when she saw Kate’s surprised look. “Sorry, Kate. I’m sure you know what you are talking about… but if only I could remember something, then maybe I could get to forget it.” She thought about the pictures that not even Nikolai’s very sensible theories could explain and shuddered. “I only have suspicions, and some pictures, to guide me. However… the feeling it’s the same.” She looked away before speaking again. “I just need to know the truth… that’s why I’m so intent on doing this.”
“And that’s why I’m going to help,” said Kate with a slight smile. She could understand Alessa’s frustrations, having your memories messed with left you with a very disorientated feeling inside, like literally having the rug pulled out from beneath your feet. There was always the sense of something nasty lurking in the background but no matter how hard you looked you could never quite see it.
“Do you really think Delancre is involved with what happened to you in Colombia?”
“Honestly, I don’t really know,” she said, “All I know for certain is that I was there. There’s proof enough of that part. The renegades part doesn’t make sense after what Nikolai’s learnt so I suspect Delancre is to blame. Too many coincidences, don’t you think? It’s like a big jigsaw puzzle, where some pieces are missing and yet others form the perfect picture.” She smiled, “Let’s hope we find some of the missing pieces in the Watcher’s mansion.”
She fumbled with the zip of the big gym bag she was carrying, taking some clothes from it. “Reah got me these from Poplar’s training room, they are Tash’s. Reah said she didn’t dress up or anything to visit Delancre so I guess they’ll do.”
She took out a pair of clean jeans and a dark green shirt. Then she took out a pair of wrist-length black leather gloves. “The gloves were in the bike actually. I had bought a pair but I’ll wear these ones. Oh, and I bought boots too,” she added, showing Kate the black boots that were obviously too big for her.
“Yes, too many coincidences,” agreed Kate. She was even beginning to wonder if Delancre had any involvement in this virus that was going around. If he could brainwash a demonic army into doing his bidding then infecting people with a virus would be a small feat in comparison, and it did seem coincidental that all this had begun around the same time he’d landed himself in Los Angeles. Plus if his objective really was to ‘take over’ as Tash had put it, then disabling his only real opposition would make sense, wouldn’t it?
*Okay don’t get too paranoid,* Kate berated herself silently. *You’re beginning to sound like Galen.*
“Sounds like you have everything sorted,” said Kate as she looked through the things spread out on the table, “I still can’t believe you can do this, I mean I’ve seen you morph before but… well this is a little different. I guess I never thought that you could change into people I know,” she added with a slight laugh.
Alessa blushed, and lowered her eyes. “I’d never do it if it weren’t for the special circumstances. I need to know the truth, or I’ll end up insane. Please believe me that this is an ‘extraordinary’ thing for me to do.” She looked Kate in the eye. “I don’t go around wearing my friends’ forms.”
She frowned. “In fact, until very recently I wouldn’t have dared to do it, my morphing abilities weren’t so good. I’ve improved them… a thousandfold in too little time.” She hadn’t made the connection until then, “Actually from the moment I came back from Colombia.”
Kate frowned at the sudden look of realisation that came over Alessa’s face. “You think maybe they did something to you over there?” Kate resisted using the term ‘experiments’ – the word just seemed a bit offensive, like Alessa was a piece of meat or something and Kate didn’t want to say anything that might upset her friend.
The demoness’ frown deepened. It could be. “Well, they are trying to get perfect soldiers there, right? A Verbati that can’t morph easily wouldn’t be of much use.”
Of course that’d mean they had trained her as fighter, not as sex slave… relief flooded her for a second, and then a more terrible suspicion crossed her mind. Sometimes she morphed into different women as foreplay with Ellis, they both enjoyed themselves with it, and Ellis always said she could sell the recipe against routine… it couldn’t be, could it? That they were just improving her ‘sexiness’? Relief was replaced by rage. A rage so fierce that she surprised herself standing up and pacing around the kitchen to calm down.
“Are we going to start this or not?” she snapped at Kate, unaware of the woman’s surprised look.
“Yes, yes we are…” said Kate, a little taken aback by Alessa’s sudden outburst. She didn’t know if it was the virus or just Alessa’s own frustrations at not really knowing for sure what had happened to her at that facility in Colombia.
“I have things already set up,” she said gently, trying to calm Alessa with the soothing tone of her voice. “I thought we could do this in the living room, I need a bit more dark to be able to see your aura properly and it’ll be more comfortable.”
Alessa nodded. “I should be getting changed then, my clothes won’t fit as Tash,” she said, trying to calm down but failing miserably. She felt dirty and couldn’t stand it. Following Kate’s instructions she entered the small bathroom down the hallway and quickly changed into Tash’s clothes.
Trying not to trip on the too-long pants she entered to the living room where Kate had already closed the curtains and was lighting some candles. She couldn’t help but smile at Kate’s amused expression, she looked as if she had fallen into the bigger woman’s clothes. “Just wait and I’ll fill them quite right,” she joked.
Kate’s smile widened slightly as Alessa padded into the room and sat down in the small circle of candles that she had set up. “Okay, you just need to relax first of all,” Kate said as she sat down opposite Alessa, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her knees. “Just breathe deeply,” she instructed as Alessa mirrored her posture, “try to clear your mind.”
Kate finished lighting the rest of the candles, the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood beginning to fill the room.
“Close your eyes…” said Kate softly, her voice as melodic and unobtrusive as birdsong on the breeze. “You feel calm, at ease, relaxed… breathe deeply…”
Alessa did as the witch told her. The tumultuous feelings that had arisen were still making her seethe, but the combination of Kate’s soothing words and the overly sweet smell of the burning candles were casting their magic into her and she slowly felt her anger subside.
Kate sensed Alessa’s earlier rage ease somewhat. It wasn’t completely gone but at least it wasn’t bubbling on the surface like an unattended cauldron. Kate opened the small wooden box that rested between them, drawing out several items and placing them on the top. First there was a smudge stick, then a crystal pendulum and a bowl of shallow water and finally the small bag containing the pin that still held the precious drop of Tash’s blood.
Kate smiled to herself guardedly. Tash calling around like that, wanting practically the same spell that she was to perform for Nikolai and Alessa, providing her with enough of Delancre’s DNA to replicate the ritual threefold, not to mention leaving her with a sample of her own blood! It had been more than a stroke of good luck, it had been divine providence.
She carefully lit the smudge stick on one of the candles, humming resonantly as she wove the cleansing smoke around Alessa’s form. The light grey trail hung in the air, smelling strongly of sage and rosemary. Kate continued to hum, a gentle, vibrating sound from deep inside herself.
“Purgo, clarus, mundus…” she said softly as she continued to weave the web of smoke. After a few minutes the smudge burnt to nothing more than a few charred herbs and Kate set it down. “Let the colours be revealed.”
The light from the candles dimmed slightly, allowing the brilliant colours from Alessa’s aura to glow in the dark. It was like a shimmering forcefield surrounding the other woman, swirling with different hues of red and orange and yellow with undertones of white and dark blue.
Alessa felt a strange tingling sensation in her skin, like millions of blunt pointed pins tickling at the same time. She opened her eyes, curious, and looked down at her naked arms. A wide smile grew on her face as she could see the flickering colours of her own aura. It was faint, but it was there. Raising her eyes, she looked at Kate in awe.
“Wow,” was all she could manage to say, she was too amazed to speak.
Kate smiled back at Alessa, though she didn’t have time to revel in the glory of the sight, the task was to disguise Alessa’s aura and to graft an image of Tash’s in its place. She picked up the needle containing Tash’s blood and smeared the tiny residue onto the crystal. It wasn’t much but a little was all that would be needed; blood was the very essence of mortality, even better than flesh. The spell would use Tash’s blood to align a perfect impression of her aura over Alessa’s, but having Alessa in Tash’s form would make it easier.
“Can you morph into Tash now, Alessa?” Kate asked still in that same gentle, melodic voice, not wanting to break her friend’s concentration too much.
At the witch’s command, Alessa nodded, closed her eyes and clearly pictured the ebony skinned hunter in her mind, willing her body to change. With almost no effort her flesh darkened, her limbs extended and filled with muscle. Her face changed as well, mirroring the Negroid features of the woman and her hair dissolved into a closely cut helmet of hair.
She opened her eyes and smiled at Kate. She knew the result was faultless, she was getting good, but in this case she had practised many times before the mirror to achieve perfection. Too much depended on it.
Kate watched in amazement as Alessa morphed into Tash. The illusion was eerily accurate from the shape of her eyes to the length of her nose. Her clothes no longer looked big and baggy but fitted snugly against her new muscled frame and when Alessa opened her mouth to speak she sounded so much like Tash, Kate would never have known the difference if it hadn’t been for the fact that Alessa’s red/orange aura still floated around her body.
A frown settled on Kate’s frown as she noticed a subtle change in those colours. Before the morph they had been bright but dampened to a certain degree, like a fog or mist had clouded over them. But as Alessa changed into Tash a noticeable mutation effected the colours of her aura. They became much clearer and intense as though someone had turned the resolution up. *That’s certainly interesting,* thought Kate to herself though she tried not to redirect her thoughts too much from the task at hand.
Continuing with the ritual, Kate slowly dipped the pendulum in the bowl of water and then held it between her hands. As she did so the crystal began to swing slowly in small, loose concentric circles. Kate carefully held her hands out towards Alessa, gesturing for her to reach forward and take the crystal in her own hands. The pendulum began to swing in faster, wider circles, the grey moonstone at the end starting to glow slightly. Kate held her hands over Alessa’s channelling her energy into the woman.
“I call on Fraus goddess of deception, Cover now the host’s true reflection.
The crystal shone with dark green light and suddenly the vibrant orange and red of Alessa’s aura changed into something darker and much muddier. The tones of red and orange were still there joined by clouds of green and yellow but they lacked the vivacity that Alessa’s own aura had. They seemed tainted somehow; not with anything malevolent or evil, just by the stain of negative emotions and actions.Discord queen of confusion,
Hold fast and strengthen this illusion.
Keep and bind the aura’s light,
Make it shimmer, make it bright.
From this stone let the vision be reflected,
To keep this hoax and the host protected.
Slowly the pendulum rocked to a stop between Alessa’s hand and Kate carefully drew back. Her aura still glowed with Tash’s signature, green and yellow mingled into the reds and oranges, murky and unclean.
“It’s done,” said Kate gently, beginning to blow out the candles that surrounded them. “The crystal will hold the energies of the spell. So long as you keep it somewhere on your body the illusion will remain complete.”
She nodded, putting the pendant on and hiding it under the shirt. It felt warm on her chest, and she could sense the energy radiating from it. Then she looked at her body trying to see her – Tash’s – aura again. It was fading but it was clearly different than hers, more on the green side but also looked blurred.
“It looks so different,” she commented, and Kate knew she wasn’t talking of the physical form.
“Well, duh, that’s like kinda the point,” laughed Kate in a mock ‘valley girl’ tone as she gathered up the candles and the other accoutrements, carrying them with her into the kitchen, Alessa following close behind.
“I have something else for you too…” said Kate as she put the spell things away. She returned from the pantry with a small piece of withered black rope. She took Alessa’s hand and wrapped it around her wrist, tying it in a firm knot before tucking it under her glove in the same way that the real Tash had done several days ago. *And thank you very much for Delancre’s DNA,* thought Kate with a barely discernible smile.
At Alessa’s confused glance Kate raised her own wrist, pulling back the sleeve of her sweater and showing a similar piece of rope to that the demoness now wore. “Not very fashion conscious I know, but it’ll do the job well. Your inner thoughts and emotions will be completely shielded from Delancre and I’ll make sure that he doesn’t go sensing too much from your surface thoughts.”
Alessa chuckled, “And you said that I had thought of everything.” She flexed her fingers with the unfamiliar feeling of Tash’s gloves. They were soft and obviously well worn, probably not her best pair too. “I’ll have to get used to wearing gloves all the time, not look self conscious in them.”
“You are aware that Tash will sense you in those gloves when she wears them again, aren’t you?” asked Kate, watching Alessa’s hands. She was thinking of Tash’s sense of psychometry.
The demoness shrugged. She hadn’t remembered it, actually, but Tash would learn of their intrusion eventually. “She’ll know anyway. As long as she doesn’t learn about it while we’re inside…” she smiled ironically. “What’s the worst that could happen, in any case?”
Kate didn’t want to think about what the worst could be. Tash – the real Tash – had made that quite clear. Death – or worse. “I don’t think Ambrose Delancre is a man to be misjudged,” she said, pulling her sleeve straight. “I know Watchers tend to be of the cuddle tweed clad variety, all high tea and butter scones, but that’s certainly not the impression I get about the First Elder. He’s ruthlessly ambitious, I think he’s capable of anything. We’ll have to be careful. As for Tash…”
Kate fell silent, it was obvious Tash had the virus and she had definitely been hiding something from her. “Tash is our friend, bottom line. But she’s made her bed with Delancre, she’s going to have to lie in it.”
Alessa smiled, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t think you got my meaning, Kate. What’s the worst that could happen… that hasn’t happened yet? To me, at least.”
Kate smiled grimly, shrugging with a discontented sigh. Alessa was right, and Kate couldn’t help but feel the same way. Part of her really didn’t care if Delancre was trying to take over the city. He could have his demonic army, take over the goddamn world or make himself a god if he so pleased and she might not even bat an eyelid.
“You know part of me doesn’t even care?” Kate admitted with a sigh, her gaze becoming distant and vague. “If Delancre and his army comes and kills us all, then at least it would all be over wouldn’t it? The pain… the hurting.” Kate shook her head dismally. “I know it sounds bad, but it’s hard to keep on fighting when everything worth fighting for has already been taken away. I can’t help wondering what it would feel like just to rest, to feel at peace, to let go of this terrible burden. Is this world even worth saving? The people are cold and unfeeling, friends turn their backs on you, lovers betray you, children die before you’ve even had a chance to hold them in your arms. What are we still fighting for?”
Kate looked up suddenly, as though she’d forgotten that Alessa was there. It was the most she had said about the way she really felt inside since Emma had died, but she couldn’t help but feel that she’d said too much.
Alessa impulsively wrapped her arms around the now smaller woman. She felt suddenly guilty. Nothing of what had happened to her could compare to what Kate had been through. Yet she’d had her share of loss in her life too, to have a glimpse of what losing your child would feel.
“I completely understand you, Kate. Sometimes I feel just that way too, and you know what keeps me moving? The conviction that things can only get better.” She leaned backwards to look at the witch’s face. “We’ve been through the worst that could happen, after all. Things have to improve, they just have to.”
She smiled sadly, “I think we still fight for that chance… the chance to let things improve.”
Kate felt herself sag into Alessa’s friendly embrace. She hadn’t meant to make the other woman feel guilty, far from it. Alessa had been through a lot lately too what with losing Chance and her abduction and Kate certainly didn’t feel that she in any way held the monopoly on pain.
But no matter how she tried she couldn’t share Alessa’s optimism. She had believed that things couldn’t get any worse when Emma had died, or when Galen had walked out on her, or when she’d had Daye gloating in her face about how she’d seduced her husband, or when she’d realised that she’d had a miscarriage. It just felt like she was continuously hitting rock bottom only to discover that she hadn’t hit the bottom at all. If only. No, it was more like she kept hitting obstacles on her way down to rock bottom.
It was a sobering thought, to realise that you actually had no reason to stand up and fight any more. Kate remembered asking Jack about what kind of world she’d brought Emma into in the aftermath of Sorrow’s death. Jack had said, “the world needs children, Kate, they help remind us WHY we fight to make this world a better place.” She had accepted that then, but now? No, she had nothing to fight for, not any more. But still, she would put a hearty smile on her face, drop the occasional joke in here and there and take her risks along with everyone else in the desperate attempt that she might actually feel something again.
Kate was about to say something when there was a loud knock at the door. She and Alessa both turned in the direction of the noise, a little startled out of their private musings.
Kate forced a smile to her face and sighed, glancing at the kitchen clock. “It’s about time Koyla showed up,” she said, heading off in the direction of the hallway.
[/]Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 10th May 2007 - Midday
Kate watched silently through the windscreen of Koyla’s car as ‘Tash’ rode ahead on her motorbike. It had been a surprise earlier to see Alessa’s body morph into that of the ebony skinned huntress; her limbs extending, flesh darkening, hair dissolving away into Tash’s short buzz cut. But it made perfect sense that the one to show them around Delancre’s facility was none other than his right hand girl. Tash was well known on the compound and her close relationship with Ambrose Delancre would allow her certain freedoms that they otherwise would not have. But it was still an incredible risk.
She cast Koyla a wary glance as his eyes were also fixed on the rider in front of them. Alessa was keeping a steady pace, not too fast but not too slow either, allowing them a fair distance to follow her from. Kate could sense her friend’s nervousness even if it hadn’t been evident just by looking at him.
*Good,* thought Kate, *he should be nervous, we all should.* She turned her gaze to her wrist, where the ropy talisman was tied, concealed beneath the sleeve of her sweater; the same kind of talisman that she had made for Tash not so long ago to enable her to block the First Elder from reading her thoughts. Kate smiled to herself at that, thankful that she’d had the foresight to palm the other three hairs from Delancre’s head that Tash had given her for the spell. Without that vital ingredient, the obfuscatory spell might not have been as powerful as it now was. With similar talismans for Nikolai and Alessa at least they would be safe on that score.
*Which is a good job,* thought Kate again as her gaze returned to fix on Alessa’s retreating form. *Because if what Tash told me about Delancre is true he’s not a man to be crossed. If he catches us…*
Kate closed her eyes momentarily, remembering what Tash had said. “Everyone has to believe I’m his lapdog… I’ve seen what happens to those he punishes for disloyalty… if word gets back to him… I could wind up dead - or worse.”
Kate sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater unconsciously before realising what she was doing and actively forcing herself to stop. She hadn’t told the others about Tash’s visit. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them, just that she didn’t want to take the risk that news of Tash’s double-cross might somehow get back to Ambrose. It was better that it was kept a secret – for now at any rate.
Nikolai focused on his driving, listening to the music from the radio. Kate had been surprised when, after asking her if she minded him putting something on, he merely asked the car verbally for a station and got it. He’d tried to get everyone’s nerves down to a reasonable level, giving what must have sounded like a lecture on how to be a spy.
“Don’t worry about forcing yourself to stop,” Nikolai assured Kate, noticing her playing with her sleeve. He smiled. “Just fiddle with the other one as well - they’ll probably figure it’s a nervous habit that way.”
Inwardly he was nervous for another reason: the past few days, he’d had to spend more time meditating to keep a hold on himself. The virus or whatever it was had been coming out of remission. If that happened here… what would he do? Nikolai didn’t trust himself, if something went wrong, not to seriously consider selling out his friends to save his skin, or if he would instead continue to adhere to the ‘law of silence’. “It’s spooky, I never realised how much I missed doing this.”
“Old habits die hard,” said Kate shortly, not really listening to her friend, she was too focused on the task that lay ahead. She had no idea how powerful a telepath Delancre was, though if Tash had managed to fox him up until now she figured he must either not be trying very hard or wasn’t as proficient as she’d been led to believe. Kate was also a little wary at the prospect of both her companions having this virus, though she had taken certain precautions that would allow her a speedy exit in the right circumstances if the worst should happen. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to use it.
“Oh… wow,” said Kate as the grounds came into view. “He doesn’t do things by halves does he?”
*There’s a intercom near the door,* Alessa said to herself as she approached the high gates surrounding the Watchers’ Council grounds. She pulled down besides the left column and waited for the electronic sounding voice to ask her name and business.
“It’s Tash, I’ve got Nikolai Makarov and Kate Eldridge to see Delancre,” she said, managing to keep a calm tone in her Tash sounding voice.
“They aren’t in the book,” said the guard on the other side of the device. He sounded doubtful, though Alessa noticed that he didn’t mention her not being expected. Tash’s coming and goings must be free upon the mansion.
“Check with Delancre,” she said, putting a bored hint into her tone.
There was a long pause, and the demoness controlled herself not to look back at Nikolai’s Monte Carlo. Hopefully Delancre would recognize the names and be intrigued enough to let them in. Finally the guard’s voice sounded again.
“Sir Ambrose will receive you in his study.”
Alessa let her breath out when she saw the gates opening for them, surprised; she hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath. With a quick glance to the car following her, she revved the bike again and rode up the curving gravel driveway to the white mansion that suddenly loomed into view. Leaning the bike next to a column, as Reah had told her to, she jumped down and took off her helmet, catching herself at the last moment from not shaking her head. There wasn’t long hair to shake into order, so Tash wouldn’t do that.
She waited until her companions got out of the car before walking towards the already opened doors and the demon servant waiting for them. Remembering to only nod to the servant she entered the mansion.
Kate climbed out of the car, casting a glance around her surroundings as she followed Nikolai and ‘Tash’ inside the mansion. Crossing the threshold she felt a sharp tingle of magical energies prickling against her skin, and remembered Koyla saying something about the place being filled with wards and other mystical devices that could detect the use of magic. Not that that would make much of a difference with her there; Kate channelled magic as par for the course to the extent that any other magical workings would fade into the background in comparison.
“This is some set up…” said Kate as she took in the elegant furnishings and fine antiques that decorated every room. The polished mahogany and rich avocado green upholstery reminded her very much of the times she had visited the Watchers’ Council Headquarters in London with Jessica and William. “It’s like a home away from home,” she said with a slight giggle, “I’ve been here less than a minute and I can feel the urge for tea and crumpets already.”
Alessa looked over her shoulder and smiled at the woman. She could understand Kate’s feeling, but after living in Ernie’s mansion for more than a month now she had taken the English style rich surroundings with indifference. However Tash would say something, right? Nervous, she tried to stop ‘thinking’ about what Tash would do. *You have to start thinking ‘like’ her, not about her,* she scolded herself, remembering Nikolai’s words.
“Impressive, huh?” she said, keeping her smile in place. “And it’s huge too. Come on, this way,” she added, nodding to a demoness in maid’s uniform. She looked ridiculous, and she wondered what kind of man this Delancre was, trying to make demons into something they were not.
Looking at the front again, she counted the doors to find herself at a huge hall, just as Reah had said, at that point she turned left into a wide corridor that led to big double doors of dark polished wood. *This is it,* she thought, nodding to the demon that bowed at her servilely.
“Please tell Delancre that I have a surprise for him,” she said with a smile; they had decided that would be the better approach. Just not give the man any time to be suspicious.
The demon bowed again and softly tapped the door, entering upon hearing his master on the other side. Sharing a nervous look with Kate and Nikolai, Alessa steadied herself again, grateful of the few seconds still allowed to gather her wits.
She straightened her shoulders, imitating Tash’s casually confident stance and willed her features to a pleasing expression just as the demon opened the door again.
“My Lord Delancre will see you now,” said the demon, allowing them to enter the First Elder’s office.
Noticing the first few demons around, Nikolai felt the duel feelings of admiration and disgust arise within him. The Xangyarj put an incredible stress on the “life in accord with nature” and from what he could tell at the maid-demon, that was most emphatically not their nature. Still if he could break even peaceful demons, that was something worthy of a kind of morbid respect.
He was put in mind of some of the images that communist rule painted for him: of kings living in opulent luxury at the expense of the working class, using the hard labour of the masses to live in a lifestyle of extreme decadence. Still holding with the image of a Mafioso, Nikolai pulled out a wadded bill and casually slipped it into the pocket of the demon who held the door open, noting the feeling of terror mirrored in its eyes as that happened.
Delancre remained seated at his desk as the trio entered the room. He narrowed his eyes at Tash: she really was beginning to get just a little too arrogant for his liking. He'd permitted a degree of leeway until now, but since her plan to boost his army's numbers had worked so well she'd begun to grow just a tad cocksure. Still, he mused as he glanced out the window, he had to admit that since his staff had confirmed the link to the zombies existed only to himself he could perhaps overlook a degree of fresh arrogance. After all, Natasha had enabled him to advance his plans that little bit faster than the pace he'd been holding.
"So, Natasha, I see you've brought some more friends. A surprise, to be sure," he said in a neutral tone. Warming his voice, he rose to greet the newcomers.
"You must be Mr Makarov," he said, extending his hand to Nikolai for a firm shake. "And you," he turned to Kate and swept up her hand to kiss the back lightly in a gesture all too familiar to Alessa, "must be the lovely Mrs Eldridge."
Casting a sideways glance at Tash he commented, "I'm always pleased to meet Miss Brookes' friends, although usually she gives me a little warning. However, I forget my manners. I am Lord Ambrose William Bryce Delancre III," he said with a flourish. "Would you care for some refreshments?"
Alessa had never fought to control herself harder than that time. The moment she heard the voice of the man, her head had snapped up and her heart had started to shout in agony. Refusing to believe her ears, she had taken a look at the First Elder, Lord Ambrose William Bryce Delancre III and wished to be dead.
Her pace faltered and she adjusted her step to counteract it, noticing the worried look Nikolai threw at her. Planting a casual smile on her face she turned to him and made an imperceptible shrug, then she turned to the First Elder again, glad that he had already dismissed her and was throwing his charm at Kate.
She noted that even if he was smiling, his blue eyes were cold, so unlike the way he used to look at her, and the thick brown hair that she had smoothed into place with her hands was now in perfect order. His hands… his strong yet soft hands were still grabbing Kate’s smaller one, as if regretful to let her go. Just like they had held her that same morning…
She noticed that the man had turned to speak to her and virtually kicked herself. “What? I’m sorry Ambrose, I was distracted,” she said, looking into his familiar eyes and trying to sound casual.
Delancre's eyes narrowed further. "I was enquiring whether our guests would like some refreshments. Perhaps you require something too. You're not looking quite your usual robust self today."
Kate noticed Alessa’s sudden unease and quickly worked to block it out, turning to Delancre and smiling receptively to his hospitality. “Tea would be very nice, Lord Delancre,” she said politely, drawing away his attention from Alessa as the woman struggled to compose her features into something less representative of the horror and disgust that she felt inside. “I must say, you have a very professional operation here. I feel quite embarrassed that I was less than amenable to your initial invitation to form an alliance. Tash has told us nothing but good things about you, and the work that you have been doing here in Los Angeles.”
Nikolai picked up on what Kate was doing, and figured that it was time to at least begin the deception as he used some of the things he'd had prepared - no doubt the man would want to know what changed their minds. "Unfortunately, certain rumours reached the streets. Rumours that I am happy to say we have been able to falsify to our own satisfaction - some of my associates were very pleased with that news." He resisted the urge to add 'Comrade Delancre' at the end of that, as he would have when addressing anyone in the old government. Of course, old habits died hard.
Mulling that over, Delancre allowed himself to smile. “Well now, I’m not sure what those rumours might have been, but of course there are always those elements out there that would dearly like to undermine the work done by the Watchers’ Council. It’s a pity you didn’t see fit to bring these concerns to my attention earlier - I’m sure I could have dispelled any such notions. Though naturally I’m gratified that you were able to satisfy yourselves as to the veracity of the Council’s charter.”
Delancre’s smile grew broader, perhaps even a little predatory, “Tell me, what was it that you heard about us? Hmm, let’s see… in the past I’ve heard the one about how we’re all demon haters. That’s a popular misconception. Then there’s the ‘run by secret practitioners of the black arts’. That’s another crowd favourite. There are dozens of others - which ones were they this time?”
Nikolai returned with that look he'd perfected, the one which said that he was thoroughly enjoying the situation. "Well certainly that you're all demon haters had crossed my mind - despite the fact that I've been seeing a Watcher, I couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that some of the stormtrooopers had Jewish girlfriends." Nikolai hoped sincerely that Delancre wasn't too insulted by that, despite that he'd been deliberately so; and that Alicia would understand if word ever got back to her.
"Of course, when you are partly 'demonic' such things become of greater concern to you. So it seemed rather prudent that we determine this was not merely a clever ruse to drag demons out of hiding, Comrade Delancre." *Oops,* he thought as the old training kicked in. Why, oh why, did Delancre have to make him feel like he was in the Party Headquarters in Leningrad?
Outwardly remaining impassive, inwardly Delancre fumed. Comrade? Comrade! Did that stinking little upstart halfbreed of a Russian dare to imply that an aristocrat could possibly be held to the same level as a filthy Communist? Letting none of his ire show, he turned his attention to Mrs Eldridge, who had cleared her throat to speak.
“Lord Delancre,” began Kate, interceding before Nikolai took his personal grievances a mite too far. She resumed her cordial smile as she regained his attention, allowing the slightest hint of compunction mixed with awe to emanate from her words. “Many of us have had dealings with the Watchers’ Council in the past, not all of them particularly pleasant. It was, I’m afraid, a great error in judgement on our part that we allowed our previous misadventures cloud our opinion of your good self before we had the fortune of meeting with you in person.”
Kate turned to glance at ‘Tash’. “If it wasn’t for Tash singing your praises we might not have seen the inaccuracy of our ways.” She smiled again, sweeping her hair out of her eyes with her free hand. “But we have now and we would very much like to be of some assistance in the work that you are creating here.”
Well, Delancre thought, the pair may turn out to be equally insincere, but at least Mrs Eldridge knew how to behave properly. But he was feeling less than joyful about this visit. Despite the promises of those who had developed Hyde for him, its effectiveness seemed to be wearing off if so many of the so-called White Hats had suddenly taken it upon themselves to begin investigating his doings here. Far from being too caught up in their own little worlds of perversions and power-plays, they seemed to be doing exactly what they would have done had the group never dissolved. The only benefit appeared to be that they were still somewhat disorganised, and he began to wonder if it wasn’t time soon for more direct measures to be taken against those who might oppose him.
The arrival of the servant with tea gave him space to pause while the demon handed cups to himself, Nikolai and Kate. Delancre turned to Tash, who had remained strangely silent during this exchange, and noted that instead of her usual cocky stance she was leaning against a chair and staring down at the carpet. *She’d better not be wearing herself out too much with those damn rituals,* he thought. The last thing he needed was for her to flake out on him now that he had the means to double and triple the effectiveness of his army.
“Tea, Natasha?” he asked carelessly.
Alessa had had enough time to recover thanks to her friends, and by the time she heard the First Elder’s question she’d gathered herself. She had to get her concentration back; whatever had happened with Stu- Delancre was irrelevant at the moment. She had to step into Tash’s shoes, or he would know something was amiss; and now, more than ever, she needed him not to know who she was. *What’s the worst that could happen?* she had asked Kate earlier. Now the naivety of the question made her chuckle inwardly.
Raising her eyes she looked into Delancre’s blue gaze. She could feel a wall build around herself, allowing her to function again. Her friends depended on her, she had assured them she could do this. She wouldn’t let them down.
*She doesn’t drink or eat anything.* Reah’s words sounded in her ears like a beacon light. “No thank you, Ambrose,” she said lazily, raising her eyes and smiling confidently at him, as if sharing a private joke.
In a supple movement, she sat down in the couch and leaned backwards comfortably. With her gloved hands resting unceremoniously on the chair’s arms and her long legs crossed at the ankles, one would say the study was her own, and not that of the man she was talking to. *She behaves like she owns the place.*
She smiled again, making a gesture to her guests. *She’s familiar to the limit of discourtesy.* “But I’m sure Nikolai and Kate will love your…” She yawned, covering her mouth graciously but not making any attempt to hide it. “Darjeeling,” she finished the sentence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night, but I assure you I’m still my usual… robust self.” Tiredness could probably cover her distraction of earlier.
"Hmph," he snorted. "Not too tired to conduct another tour of the premises, I trust?" He turned to Kate and Nikolai, "After all, that's what you're here for, no doubt. To survey the facilities that our alliance will provide for you."
His smile seemed genuinely warm, but Alessa had seen his act at a much more personal level and she refused to be fooled by it for a minute. Instead of hearing the warm interest he projected, his voice now sounded oily to her ears as he said, "Mrs Eldridge... may I call you Catherine?"
Without waiting for a response he went on, "Catherine, I understand you're a witch of not inconsiderable talent. Such, of course, is always useful in our fight against the darkness that besets us. I'm sure you'll enjoy comparing notes with some of our own mages here. How is the tea, by the way? To your liking?"
Kate looked up from her cup, smiling cordially. “Very much so my Lord,” she said politely, despite the fact that being so amiable to this man, knowing what he was capable of, was making her own stomach turn. At least Alessa seemed to have contained whatever it was that had disturbed her upon meeting Delancre. It had taken a great deal of energy to block that out initial horror and Kate was grateful more than she could express for the cup of sweetened tea that she held in her hands.
Kate continued to school her features into that of distinguishable respect and affability. “I’m sure I can speak for Mr Makarov when I say that we would be greatly pleased to have a tour of your facility.”
"No rush, of course. We can chat a little while we finish our tea," Ambrose smiled. "So before we take the tour, are there any questions either of you would like to ask?"
Kate took a sip from her teacup before laying it down on the saucer again. “Well I was quite interested to know about the WC Corps. I heard they were your own creation, so to speak. I’m quite intrigued to know how you manage to train them so effectively.” Kate nodded to ‘Tash’ slightly with a small smile. “Tash showed us some of the specifications and I have to say some of the demons in your employ aren’t really the type to take orders.”
Kate kept her face impassive though she was scruitinising Ambrose’s every move with careful attention. She replaced her cup and saucer on the tray upon which it had arrived and crossed her legs as she waited for an answer. It wasn’t such a probing question, but she didn’t want to give away too much too soon. It was more important to see how Ambrose would respond to their questions than to provoke him with what information they DID know. Besides, she would know if he became evasive.
Delancre beamed like a doting father. “Yes, I’m rather proud of the Corps. The Slayer, Ana, does most of their training and I’m sure Natasha here can attest that she’s very good. The Council is quite pleased with their progress so far - we’ve been making quite a dent in the vampire population of Los Angeles since our arrival. And,” he said, settling back in his chair and taking a long, relaxed sip of his tea, “a little discipline is what most of the soldiers really needed.”
He gave a small laugh, “Some of them were a little unruly at first, but they all had a desire to root out evil and once they saw that teamwork was more effective than going off half-cocked they soon settled down.” He settled his cup on its saucer and regarded Kate’s intense gaze quietly. “Of course, you’re more than welcome to talk to any of them you wish to,” he said with an open smile.
Nikolai smiled, seeing an opportunity when he saw one. Just how had he managed to get them under his control? Some of the demons Alessa showed him were quite peaceful and not exactly the type to march off to war, even if they did agree with you. "I think that would be most helpful, if you don't mind," he said with a smile. "While I don't doubt your sincerity, hearing about what they've found works firsthand is probably the best way to learn, wouldn't you agree?"
“Indeed you are correct. Well then, if everyone’s finished with their tea let us go look at the training grounds and you can interview some of the troops.” Delancre cast a smile Tash’s way. “I know Natasha spent her first couple of weeks verifying that the soldiers and the servants all felt the way I had assured her they felt.”
Chuckling slightly at the memory as he rose, Delancre held out a hand to help Kate up. “Come, my dear, and you sir,” he said to Nikolai before returning his attention to Kate, “I will escort you both to the training arena.”
Kate took Ambrose’s offered hand, even though just the thought of touching him made her want to retch. This man was a real piece of work. It was just a shame about all the magical wards, they prevented her from being able to read him at any real depth. Instead she just got a sense of the complete sincerity that flowed through his every word, thick and syrupy. It was a clever guise, though a little too perfect which made Kate even more suspicious about his trustworthiness.
Delancre led the pair out the door, with Tash trailing behind. Delancre wondered at her taciturnity today - it was unusual, to say the least. Still, once these two were satisfied with what they had seen and could be safely hustled out of the way again, he would have to turn his mind to putting and end to these ‘investigations’. He wasn’t running an open house, after all, and these constant interruptions were growing tiresome. Especially an unannounced one such as this had been.
Keeping a friendly patter going over the top of his dark thoughts, Delancre pointed out interesting tidbits as the four traipsed through the long corridors of the mansion, until finally they emerged into the warm afternoon sun. Gesturing expansively, Delancre encompassed the large, grassy area with its ranks of demon soldiers in the process of performing attack drills. A young girl stood before them, a staff thumping into the ground in time with her shouted instructions.
“This is our main outdoor arena,” Delancre offered, “and the Slayer, Ana. Would you like to meet her?”
Nikolai gulped, trying to let as much of his old self show through as he could, though he was forcefully reminded of another scene from his past. It was only with a great deal of effort that he kept an unreadable expression on his face, as he considered the fighting demons.
There was an extreme amount of loyalty and dedication here, and he could take a guess at just where it was directed. A small amount of fear welled up in Nikolai. No sense of fear or coercion as he had expected, and an extreme amount of dedication from the woman standing there. Delancre had somehow won them completely over to his cause - but was he their Stalin or their Lenin?
"Of course, Co- Mr. Delancre," he caught himself fortunately before flashing back to his old KGB days again, when everyone was to be addressed as 'Comrade' before their title, though 'Comrade First Elder' seemed oddly appropriate to think of him as.
Alessa smiled as another outraged look passed through Delancre’s face at Nik’s ‘Comrade’ stuff. One didn’t have to be psychic to notice it. She looked at the Russian, he was innocently looking at the First Elder, as if he hadn’t done anything, and she chuckled softly.
Then she turned her gaze towards the training field. The rows of fighting demons looked very similar to the photographs that ‘Stuart’ had shown her. It was obvious now what ‘those’ demons had been doing there, and given Delancre’s actions towards her, what ‘she’ had been doing there. Fighting to avoid her thoughts wandering into dangerous soil, she focused on the demons and the slight girl commanding them. Now, that was something that she hadn’t seen in the pictures and yet the scene looked eerily familiar. She snorted; she must probably know the Slayer too.
After correcting a complex exercise manoeuvre her ‘soldiers’ were doing, the Slayer demonstrated another set of movements for them to imitate. The girl was slight but the power in her was obvious and Alessa wondered why Slayers usually came in small packages. Satisfied with their performance, Ana set them in pairs to practice and finally turned to her Watcher and his guests.
Ana's face was impassive as she studied Ambrose's guests for a moment. She didn't let any of her personal feelings to show on her face, but inwardly she was seething. *Why does he insist on inviting more and more of these... vagabonds into our ranks? I can't understand it. We don't need little Miss Zombie Queen or any of her minions.*
Ana shrugged and tried to be civil. Delancre was the master here and she had to do what he said; more so, she liked to please him. It was just too bad that he thought these people had any value at all. "Sir," Ana waited patiently for Delancre to make the introductions.
Lord Delancre beamed like a proud father as he made the introductions. "Mr. Makarov and Mrs. Eldridge, allow me to introduce you to Anabella Graziani, the Vampire Slayer."
Nikolai looked at the Slayer as he noticed the emotions about her changing during the introductions. Loathing, a certain amount of impatience, but still that same sense of utter devotion. "You don't approve of us," he said, more a statement than a question.
Ana's eyes widened perceptibly and she glanced quickly at Delancre when the man spoke. *Oh, goody, this one can read minds,* she thought and then struggled to clear her mind. She was very, very annoyed. "I'm sure you're mistaken, Mr. Makarov," Ana said politely. "I neither approve nor disapprove of you. That's not my place. I just follow orders."
"Now you're becoming paranoid," he replied, smiling at her and rather enjoying the tight spot - he hoped it would serve to make him look sadistic and arrogant enough while not being too sadistic and arrogant. "You have an opinion, as is your right. My only concern is that your opinion doesn't lead you to do anything rash against me - or my friends."
Ana flushed at his words. To her, he was questioning her loyalty and nothing could make her angrier. Fortunately for all involved, Delancre knew his pet Slayer all too well.
*The man's a fool to bait her, but I can't allow this kind of discord at this point,* Delancre thought, before taking control. "Now, now," he said. "We mustn't bicker amongst ourselves. I'm sure Ana understands your value, Mr. Makarov. She would never do anything to jeopardize my plans. Isn't that right, my dear girl?"
Ana turned her gaze on Delancre, adoration shining from her eyes. "Of course, my Lord," she replied without hesitation. "If you feel that we would benefit from allying ourselves with these people, then of course, I have no qualms about it."
*She's barely civil to the Slayer.* Alessa smiled, her gaze going from Nik to Ana. “Oh, I’m sure your Watcher has clearer eyesight than you, Ana, for all your Slayer keenness,” she said pleasantly, a slight smile on her lips. “I’m sure my ‘friends’ will prove most useful for his plans.”
After throwing Tash a sidelong glance of pure venom Ana buried her distaste for the woman under a veneer of civility, if only for Sir Ambrose’s sake. “I’m sure they will,” she conceded, “in so far as they are able.”
Cocking her head, Ana surveyed the pair. “Neither of them looks particularly able to take on a vampire in hand-to-hand combat, but I have heard that Mrs Eldridge is something of a witch. However, I’m not sure I’ve been briefed on your particular talents, Mr Makarov.”
Kate didn’t even bother hiding the slight smirk of amusement that spread across her face at the girl’s ‘oh-so-polite’ manner though the undertone of her remarks overflowed with insolence. It was obvious Ana took pleasure in trying to rile anyone who came from the ‘outside’; she saw herself as queen of the castle around Delancre and his demons and disliked anyone who might threaten her position, not that would ever cross her mind that she could be replaced.
“Yes, I’m something of a witch,” confirmed Kate with a slight chuckle. If Ana was hoping to slight her with that remark she would be out of luck today. “And you’re right, of course, neither myself or Mr Makarov are particularly adept vampire hunters. For myself I will just say that my talents – as you so put it – do indeed lie in other areas. Ones not so nearly as… fundamental as your own, though by experience I can tell you they are just as effective.”
Without waiting for a response she turned back to Ambrose. “I really must congratulate you, your Slayer is particularly well trained, if what we just witnessed was any indication.” She then returned her smile to the young Miss Graziani, “And of course, Tash has told us you are just as competent in battle.”
Nikolai smiled at Kate's remarks, enjoying the flustered look that the Slayer got. "As for myself," he said, "well, I'm sure a bright girl like yourself shouldn't have too much trouble working it out." He really didn't like her, Nikolai decided. Or anyone else there. They all seemed too damned sure of themselves.
“Indeed I shouldn’t have much trouble, Mr Mind-Reader,” Ana answered, her words clipped. “But of course, we already have Natasha here who can do that. Though I suppose your ability to hit targets from a safe distance with a long-range gun could come in handy some day,” she smiled.
Forestalling any further blowups from Ana, Delancre took her arm and gave her a smile tinged with censure before turning his attention back to his ‘guests’. “You’re quite right, Ana, that sort of skill is highly underrated, and I do believe that Mr Makarov - Nikolai - would be a great asset to our fight against the denizens of the underworld. As indeed would Catherine’s much-vaunted witchcraft. Natasha has told us some of the things of which you are capable and I must say I’m highly impressed.”
Smiling broadly, he swept his arm across the ranks of still demons, all standing to attention. “But I believe you wished to interview some of the soldiers? Please, be my guest. If you prefer, Ana and I shall retire some distance away so that you may trust the answers you receive are candid. Though,” his smile turned cheeky, “since both of you possess empathic abilities I’m sure you can verify that regardless of their actual responses.”
Kate took Ambrose’s invitation with warm acceptance, smiling as she asked questions to the various demons. Of course she knew it would be entirely useless: as if Delancre would allow an empath and an experienced telepath anywhere near his precious soldiers if he thought for one second that they would be able to discover anything of real importance. Still, Kate would play along for appearance’s sake. Each demon she spoke to said the same thing: they were very happy - no, proud - to be working for a man such as the First Elder, they had no complaints and were incredibly grateful for the opportunity to fight alongside the Slayer.
Their unshakeable loyalty and undeterred obedience was just another thing that seemed so out of place. Of course the real Tash had told her that Delancre used brainwashing techniques to turn his demon army into loyal soldiers and had even performed ‘loyalty checks’ on them to make sure their devotion was nothing less than 100%. But even if she hadn’t known for sure Kate would have been hearing alarm bells right now. The illusion was too perfect by half - no army was this precise just as no demon could be that docile. Where was their passion? Their spirit? They had no dynamism to their demeanour that spoke of anything apart from their devotion to their benevolent leader.
Kate felt quite sorry for this horde of demonic dupes, Delancre had them completely under his control and if he ever managed to implement his plans she felt sure many of them would die believing that their life was merely an acceptable expenditure.
Kate had to work hard to smile this time as she returned to where Delancre, Ana and ‘Tash’ all stood waiting. “You are quite right of course, Lord Delancre. Your army is absolutely flawless.”
Nikolai walked through the army, doing his best to look like a political officer there on inspection. He couldn't help but have a certain amount of morbid admiration for Delancre: whatever the man had done to ensure their loyalty, worked. All the same, he pitied them, as the demons under his control remain trapped in a cage not of their own devising. When he finished, he nodded in agreement with Kate. "Indeed, most impressive, Mr. Delancre."
Alessa watched Kate and Nikolai inspect the demons, and she had to suppress her impatience. The demons wouldn’t say anything useful, but of course they had to play along with the charade. She crossed her arms on her chest and tried to look amused, and when Nikolai praised the First Elder’s army she smiled.
“I told you you’d be impressed,” she said, turning to Delancre and giving a small laugh. “It was difficult to talk them into this, Delancre. The rumours on the streets don’t help either,” she said, hoping the man was piqued by this. She knew she was straying from their plan, but she needed to see how he reacted to ‘Stuart’s’ information.
“Ah, my dear Natasha. The rumours that we are all demon haters have been around for decades - centuries, even.” Delancre fixed the woman with an indulgent stare. “Unless there are other rumours abounding as well?” It was one of the reasons he’d allowed Natasha such free rein - her connections would make it easier for him to keep an ear to the ground and see what the general feeling was outside these walls.
Alessa waved her hand dismissively. "Some silliness about the Council making demons fight for sport." She imprinted her tone with derision. "I had to tell Nikolai here that it wasn’t true, one can’t pay attention to all you hear on the streets," she added, easily placing Nikolai as the source of that information.
She looked at Nik again; she just hoped he had guessed her intent, and was paying especial attention to Delancre's reactions. "Now that you've seen for yourself the excellence of the corps you won't have any more doubts, right?"
Without waiting for an answer she turned at the First Elder again, a sweet smile on her face. "It would've been funny if it weren’t so absurd, don’t you agree, Ambrose?"
Noting Makarov’s hasty, “No, of course not,” Delancre pursed his lips together. *Fighting for sport, hmm? Well, good to see my - haha, Stuart’s - information is being passed around to the right places. I think Stuart should be especially nice to Alessa tonight.*
Letting his face fall to a disappointed frown he remarked, “Well, unfortunately some rumours are more true than others. The Watchers’ Council is having a small problem with a group who have discarded the ways of their elders and betters, and have taken it upon themselves to set up ad hoc fighting rings.”
He held his hands out in a gesture of openness. “You see, Nikolai… Catherine… I’m even prepared to show you our less savoury side. We are, however, doing what we can to root out these renegade elements. But they keep moving their base of operations around and getting them pinned down has proven to be a slow process. I am confident, however, that the problem is close to being a thing of the past.”
He smiled his most brilliant, charming smile and ushered his guests away from the training grounds. “Is there anything else you’d like to see while you’re here?” he asked amiably.
“I think you’ve been most generous with your time already,” said Kate, returning Ambrose’s dazzling smile. What she really needed now was to go home and take a long shower, just talking to him made her feel contaminated somehow. “Nikolai and I have seen more than enough to arouse our interest for the time being. I’ll be sure to relay what I’ve learned and perhaps we can appease the rest of these distasteful rumours once and for all.”
“Of course,” Delancre said, “A delight to meet both of you, I’m sure. And naturally, if you wish to take advantage of the training facilities here I’d be more than happy to share them with you, as part of the agreement between the Watchers’ Council and White Hats.”
He turned to Tash, and Alessa did her best to mimic Tash’s warrior stance as he addressed her. “Natasha, if you would be so kind as to escort your friends out, I must attend to other matters.”
He bowed to Kate and Nikolai, then left them to make their way out with Tash as their guide.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 10th May 2007 – 2:10pm
Tash was fuming as she sat in the back of the cab. First of all Reah had damn near made her late – she checked her watch and amended that – had made her late for her scheduled training session at Delancre’s. Then after finally extricating herself from the Armoury she’d emerged to find her bike was missing! Kicking and swearing up and down the street, Tash had eventually come to the reluctant conclusion that she’d be better off getting a taxi to the mansion and then looking for her bike afterwards. But she didn’t have to be happy about it. In her mind’s eye she was already pounding the bastard who’d stolen it, turning his face into hamburger meat.
As the cab turned the corner onto the street where the First Elder had set up his headquarters, Tash frowned at the car that seemed to be exiting the gated entranceway. She leant forward to get a better look at it, but it turned away from them and accelerated. From behind it was harder to tell, but Tash could have sworn it looked an awful lot like Nikolai’s car.
While she was still pondering that, her brain slowly registered what else it was seeing as the taxi slowed to turn into the entrance. Her eyes widened and she mouthed, “You mutha…”
Lunging forward, Tash violently wrenched at the wheel, spinning it towards her bike that was puttering slowly through the closing gates. Heedless of the cab driver’s curses, Tash screamed her own words of abuse at the hapless bastard who’d dared to touch her bike – for the moment not considering the implications of that bike being at this particular place at this particular time.
It wasn’t until the rider looked up in shock at the onrushing vehicle that Tash stopped yelling obscenities and simply stared in mute surprise.
Then she regained control of her mental faculties and was out of the car even as the taxi driver slammed his foot on the brake to avoid the collision, but Tash’s actions had had their desired effect – the bike went one way and the rider another as she tried to escape the oncoming pile of metal.
Rolling with the momentum of the car she’d just left, Tash pounced on the woman who was on her hands and knees, knocking her flat to the ground. She rolled her over and confirmed what she thought she’d seen from within the taxi – her own brown eyes stared back at her from a face familiar to her from the mirror every morning.
In that moment as the two Tashs stared at each other, one in anger and the other in horrified shock, the taxi driver backed his car up. “Crazy fucking bitch – you nearly wrecked my car you stupid goddam woman!”
Tash swivelled her head to glare at the man for a fraction of a second before returning her attention to her double, but it was enough for the man. The look spoke of the horrors she’d inflict upon him if she didn’t happen to have her hands full right now, and he found himself turning the car around and driving down the street, muttering, “Crazy stupid bitch. Not worth my time worrying about, yeah. Best leave the crazies to themselves...”
Tash kept her gaze firmly locked on the false Tash beneath her as the cab left. “Ok, tell me what the fuck is going on or I’ll kill you right now!” she demanded.
After the initial shock of recognition subsided some, Alessa gathered her wits and looked steadily at the raging woman over her. This wasn’t what she had expected when leaving the mansion, but she had known she would have to talk to Tash. Things had changed. She couldn’t risk the woman discovering their ruse now, not after learning that Stuart was indeed Delancre himself. She cast a worried glance at the mansion’s closing gates and was relieved to see that they seemed to be out of the security camera’s range, but she didn’t dare to keep this going just there. Any moment somebody could come in or out and see the two of them.
Returning her stare to Tash, she relaxed some, considering the situation. She needed to get them out of the front of the mansion, and Tash didn’t seem to be in the mood for reasoning now.
“Follow me,” she said clearly to the woman, using her own voice. Before Tash could react she gave a mighty shove with all her demonic strength, sending the huntress flying over her back. Then she lithely stood up and run towards the gardens of the nearest house, leaving Tash to do as she told her. This would probably earn her a nice beating, but she didn’t see other option.
“Fucking Alessa, you bitch!” Tash growled as she took off in pursuit, sparing a passing glance at her bike that had landed in some bushes. *I’ll follow you all right, damn you. If you’ve been fucking things up in there for me you’ll live just long enough to regret it,* she thought furiously at the woman as she chased after the shapeshifter.
She kept Alessa in sight as they ran, and saw the woman’s skin fade to its normal golden hue and her hair lengthen and lighten as she dodged bushes and leapt over a small decorative fountain. Two houses down the road Tash caught up with Alessa at last and captured her in a tackle that brought the demoness to her knees.
Grabbing her shoulders roughly, Tash twisted Alessa over unceremoniously and straddled her, pinning her to the ground and prepared this time for any attempt by Alessa to throw her off.
“Stupid goddam bitch! What did you think you were doing back there? You had Nikolai with you, didn’t you? If I find you screwed anything up for me with Delancre…” Tash raised one hand.
“Stupid.” slap
“Fucking.” slap
“BITCH!” SLAP
*Enough is enough,* thought Alessa, as she grabbed the furious woman’s wrist as she lowered it forcefully to slap her again. They struggled a moment, and Alessa marvelled at the woman’s strength, blocking another blow from her other arm and shoving her head aside as Tash tried to hit her with hers.
“Stop it, you estúpida!” she shouted herself, still struggling with her arms. “I didn’t do anything there. NOTHING, YOU HEAR!” she shouted again, but Tash seemed to be past hearing. *Damn it,* she thought and quickly morphed into demon form.
Tash looked astounded for a second but quickly collected herself, but Alessa was stronger this way and she rolled, coming to rest above Tash this time, firmly grounding her arms to the grass.
“I. DIDN’T. DO. ANYTHING!” she shouted, guessing at Tash’s worst fear. Panting, she morphed back again. “Now, I’m getting up. I can’t explain myself if you keep hitting me,” she said, trying to sound convincing.
Her eyes narrowed, Tash grumbled as Alessa eased her weight from her and stood. Scrambling to her feet, Tash joined her in standing upright and glowered at the demon with undisguised fury.
“So what the fuck were you doing in there pretending to be me, huh? Just having some afternoon tea with Delancre? I doubt it.”
“No. You never drink or eat anything in the mansion, he could have suspected I wasn’t you,” Alessa said, smiling tightly at the other’s surprised expression. “Don’t worry. We prepared ourselves for this; the bastard didn’t even raise an eyebrow.”
“We?” Tash spat, still furious and no less worried. “So Nikolai was in this too.” *And that damn cow Reah set me up for it, too. Goddamn it!*
“Yes,” Alessa answered simply. She looked around and sat down on a decorative group of stones. Now that the adrenaline of the whole thing was wearing off she felt tired. “Nikolai and Kate. We all got in, and they played their parts well too. Delancre is convinced they got into the White Hats again. As I said, he didn’t suspect a thing, but he will if you go in there screaming murder,” she added, looking at Tash right in the eye.
“Yes, indeed he will,” Tash responded icily, “And so what’s to stop me from dragging your sorry arse in there and telling him all about it?”
Her thoughts were a whirl. *Kate? Goddam Kate was with them? But she promised… oh, witch, you shall die a slow and painful death, I swear.*
She fixed Alessa with a gimlet stare, “And don’t be so sure that Delancre was fooled. He’s a canny one. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s checking up on those two even as we speak. I’ve told him all about their stance on him and the Watchers’ Council – he won’t believe they’ve changed their minds just like that. Especially,” she added with a sneer, “when I tell him the Tash with him this afternoon was really a shapeshifter.”
Alessa walked a step towards Tash, her eyes aligned with her since she hadn’t returned to her usual height. “First, don’t presume in dragging me inside, woman. I may not be so skilled but I’m not defenceless either.” Controlling her own anger, Alessa added, “Secondly, I don’t doubt Delancre is checking on Nik and Kate at the moment, but he won’t find anything that they haven’t told him, apart from the part of getting inside invited by ‘you’.”
Calmer, Alessa went on, “And the Tash I know wouldn’t tell on her friends anyway.” She smiled weakly as she sat once more. “We just wanted to check that things were as you told us, and we tried to do it in a way that didn’t jeopardize your position there,” she added, wishing that Kate’s charm worked on Tash as well. “You can’t blame us, me, for being paranoid, can you?”
“Paranoid?” Tash repeated with a saccharine-sweet smile, “No, of course I can’t blame you for being paranoid. Just as I’m sure you understand that I’m not about to just blithely walk in there as if nothing’s happened unless you can give me a very good reason why I should.”
Tash’s fury continued to mount, but it had changed from its initial white-hot anger to a cold, pulsating rage. *Damn that Kate! ‘Don’t blow my cover’ I tell her, and what does she do? Joins in a commando raid on the place, for shit’s sake!* She opened up all her barriers, reading Alessa as fully as she was able. An overlay sat on Alessa’s aura, and Tash could only assume it was meant to mimic hers. Alessa’s thoughts, too, were at odds with what Tash was expecting, and her wrath at Kate deepened even further.
“Tell me why you really went there. To check up on me too? What did you learn in there? Tell me,” Tash commanded, putting as much psychic force as she could into the instruction, to break through the barriers Kate had erected.
Alessa looked up to watch the woman in front of her. Tash hadn’t sat down and was staring daggers down at her. There was frustration on her face and she relished in it; Kate’s charms must be working with her indeed. She cocked her head, smiling. It wouldn’t matter if she told Tash what had transpired inside the mansion, the woman would learn about it anyway.
“I already told you, Tash. We went inside to see for ourselves. We didn’t want to check ‘on’ you, just what you had told us. We talked to the First Elder, we saw the corps, and even had a pleasant chat with the Slayer; haughty chit. Everything was too… perfect, if you want to know.” She looked up again, “Apart from that I don’t know. I didn’t have a chance to talk to Nik or Kate yet.”
With the force she’d brought to bear on Alessa Tash could see, even through Kate’s magic, that although her words were more or less true Alessa was holding something back. Narrowing her eyes she noticed the clothes Alessa was wearing – her own clothes, even down to her spare pair of gloves that she kept with the bike. Indignation warred with a grudging admiration for the lengths Alessa had gone to in order to perfect her ruse.
But mostly Tash was still angry with Kate for allowing this infiltration to happen in the first place, even after everything she’d told her last week. Still, Tash went on to consider, it was clear Kate had the Hyde virus, as she knew for a certainty that Alessa did. And there was the distinct likelihood Nikolai had it too, if the rumours she’d heard about him rejoining the mob were anything to go by. And of course, people with Hyde weren’t likely to worry about whether some damn fool plan of theirs to sneak into Delancre’s mansion would ruin Tash’s chances of stopping the man from achieving his nefarious goals.
Sighing, she also had to concede that she’d exhorted Kate not to tell anyone of her real purpose in signing on with Delancre in the first place. If Nikolai and Alessa had insisted on this idiocy, then Kate may well have had to play along or risk having to spill the beans on Tash’s true motives.
But for all that, Tash still hadn’t heard any compelling reasons from Alessa why she shouldn’t just go and warn Delancre that a shapeshifter – and Tash knew for certain that Delancre had a particular interest in this specific shapeshifter – had impersonated her and smuggled in the two most recent ‘visitors’. And if she were to continue playing the role of Delancre’s lapdog she couldn’t afford to tell Alessa about her own investigations from within the organisation. The reasons she’d given Kate for remaining silent still held true. Tash still regretted having brought the wicca in on it, but needs must…
She straightened, casting her gaze down upon the seated Alessa, and played Delancre’s loyal servant for all she was worth. “I’m sorry, Alessa. Delancre needs to be informed that the two ‘guests’ I just brought him weren’t brought by me at all, and that they were in fact spies. You’ve not told me anything that should convince me otherwise. There’s nothing in it for me to stay silent on your behalf. It was you, after all, who resigned from the White Hats, if you remember. I’m not beholden to you at all.”
Hearing this, Alessa’s features hardened, and she stood up to be level with the huntress. “I never thought you’d react this way, Tash. We were friends once, not just partners. You know exactly what would happen to me if you took me – if you achieved taking me to Delancre, and yet you are ready to do just that.”
Alessa crossed her arms on her chest, looking Tash up and down. “You can’t be so blind that you don’t notice what’s happening in there, know of the fate of demons in there. What would I have to tell you to convince you otherwise, as you said? Why do I have to convince you not to turn me into a madman who destroys anything he touches?”
Tash gritted her teeth. She hated Alessa for making this so hard. Sure, she could tell Alessa all about how she’d been infiltrating Delancre’s operation for months and what she’d discovered – but there was no better way to destroy a secret than to tell people about it. So far she’d told one person – Kate – and already Kate had been party to this insanity. No, under no circumstances would she talk about what she knew. Especially not to someone like Alessa, who had the virus for sure. God alone knew what the woman would do with the information.
So she just folded her arms and shook her head. “I don’t have to take you inside. It’s clear I’m no match for you in demon form. But I’m sure Delancre will love to hear all about it anyway,” she said, ignoring Alessa’s accusations about the man. Let Alessa think she disbelieved all those stories, when – and Tash had to stop herself from laughing out loud – she actually had a far better idea than Alessa herself. *You should have let me unlock your memories when I gave you the chance, sweetie,* she thought.
“I don’t care how careful you think you were, I don’t want Delancre believing that I brought Kate and Kolya to him when it’s perfectly obvious that what they’re doing is investigating him. It’s not worth my skin to let him think I might be gathering people to me in order to betray him.” To herself, she added, *Especially when that’s exactly what I am doing.*
Once more Tash shook her head. “If it’s a contest between your skin and mine, I’m afraid mine wins.”
Alessa messed her hair, frustrated. This wasn’t going to be easy; she just couldn’t let Delancre know she’d been inside the mansion, not yet at least. “Listen Tash, I don’t know how else to ask you. It doesn’t have to come to your skin or mine. Delancre is no fool and he knew he was being ‘investigated’. He wouldn’t presume to have people like Nik or Kate work for him without doing so. But I don’t think he saw anything else in it than that.”
She gestured with her hands, “I’m sure you yourself did your own ‘investigations’ when you started frequenting the mansion! He won’t hold it against you. Just don’t reveal our ruse, ok? I promise I won’t get into your path again.” She cocked her head and studied Tash; she’d probably have to offer something in return though. “I can make it worth while too. I guess you’ve noticed I’ve improved in my abilities? I don’t want to brag but my shapeshifting can be of use.”
On the verge of turning and leaving, Tash paused and faced Alessa again, regarding her thoughtfully. A new strategy occurred to her, one in which Alessa helped her to topple Delancre – after all, it was what Alessa wanted to do anyway, wasn’t it? She let a smile lift the corners of her mouth, though it barely touched her eyes.
“All right, let’s say that Delancre is satisfied that I was merely slaking my friends’ curiosity, and that he’ll leave it at that. And let’s say that I don’t go in there and blow the whistle on your little game…”
She leaned forward , dropping her voice as she continued, “Then perhaps we can come to some arrangement. Knowledge is power, as they say. I know you’re looking into things with Nikolai and Kate and Reah. All I’m asking is that you let me know what you discover about Delancre. Maybe you’re right that he’s not all he says he is – as you say, some of his setup is perhaps a little too perfect. With me on the inside, maybe I could work with you, to confirm any of the details you uncover. If he is doing something underhanded, then we should find out about it, yes?”
As Tash warmed to her new plan, her smile became more genuine. “Yes, I can understand why you might have gone in there, with some of the things I’ve heard on the streets about the First Elder. I’m sorry, I was too concerned for my own safety to really think about what you were saying. I hope you can forgive me for being hasty. Of course I’ll help you guys out. So long as you help me out in return. And yes, there may be times when having a shapeshifter around could be very useful. Of course,” Tash’s smile fell as her face grew hard again, “if at any stage it looks like you’re just using me for your own purposes, then I won’t hesitate to tell Delancre all about you.”
Alessa couldn’t help but smile in relief. That sounded more like the Tash she knew, even with the final threat. Could it be that she was infected as well? Possibly; she had to tread carefully if that was the case.
“Don’t worry, as I told Kate before, I don’t go around wearing my friend’s form. This was an extraordinary situation that called for extraordinary measures…” She studied Tash a moment. “I don’t think sharing information would be a problem, in fact I’m sure we could find out much if we just join heads over this puzzle. And what I said stands, Tash. I may not be a White Hat any more, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t help you guys.” She beamed, “And I am good now, almost as much as Inés.”
“Good, good,” Tash said, already thinking of possible uses for Alessa’s talents. “But best keep this arrangement quiet. I’ll only talk with you about anything you or the others find, okay? After all, I’m meant to be allied with Delancre – I don’t want him to discover that I might be sharing information about him with what he considers outsiders. And let’s face it, Nikolai especially is dealing with some very dodgy characters these days – just imagine if the Russian mob turned out to be working for Delancre in reality. I wouldn’t trust those guys if I were you, Alessa.” Tash shook her head, “No, you can’t tell anyone that we’re passing information back and forth or we might both wind up dead.”
Tash gave Alessa a rueful smile, fully intending that there wouldn’t be much passing of information from her end, at least. One or two tidbits that the mini-White Hat gang already knew about, but nothing substantial. She was quite prepared for them to continue to think she blindly believed most of Delancre’s lies. When she was ruler of the world it would no longer matter, anyway.
The demoness watched Tash closely, thinking about her words. It was true that Nikolai was working for the mob again, she hadn’t needed his confirming it to know it; but she doubted he’d double cross Kate and her. However she wasn’t going to get involved in any ‘mob’ deals, that was for sure, but neither had Nikolai asked it of her. She had accompanied him on one or two meetings, but after a while even that had stopped. It was as if Nik was trying to protect her.
“Don’t worry, Tash,” she answered, “I can take care of myself, and I know how to keep my mouth shut.”
With her senses at full extension, Tash was satisfied at the truth of Alessa’s words – with regard to staying quiet anyway. There was a hint of reservation associated with the idea of sending information and Tash vowed to carefully assess anything the Verbati told her. In any case, that wasn’t as much of consequence to her as the promise of Alessa’s abilities at her disposal. The imitation-Tash had looked good, very good, and if Alessa’s acting had been up to par then the possibilities were breathtaking.
“Well, good. Thanks for that. I don’t want to embark on something like this only to get into trouble over it, you know?” Tash smiled then ran her gaze over Alessa’s body that, although her features had changed back to her own, still retained Tash’s size and shape. Her glance fell to the woman’s hands, and Tash held out her hand, palm upwards.
“But I do believe you’re wearing my clothes. The rest you can drop off at Poplar Avenue later today, but I’d like my spare gloves back, at least.”
“Sure,” Alessa said, blushing and hurrying to take off the gloves. Her hands were feeling stuffy in the unfamiliar constriction. “I’ll return you the rest as soon as I wash them,” she said, as she handed Tash her gloves. “But now I should be going, or the rest will be worried.”
“All right,” Tash nodded, taking the gloves. She held them for a moment, feeling the soft leather rubbing against the leather of the gloves she already wore. She looked at Alessa and nodded. “I can’t offer you a lift, I’m afraid. You’ll have to find your own way back.”
As Alessa nodded and turned to leave Tash spoke to her retreating form, “And there better not be any scratches on my bike, either.”
“Well, if you didn’t scratch it by jumping onto me like a madwoman,” Alessa shot back over her shoulder.
“Hmph,” was Tash’s only response. Once the woman was out of sight Tash hunkered down and carefully peeled off a glove, inserting her bare hand inside the old glove that still held Alessa’s warmth. Alessa had worn the glove for only a few hours, but the impressions were still there, especially because the glove was otherwise neutral to Tash. Images began to come through, in broken pieces.
Alessa standing in Delancre’s study, horrified when she sees the man…
Memories of making love to a man. It’s not Delancre, he acts nothing like Delancre – but the face is his…
A name, whispered in the dark after lovemaking…
Panic, as Delancre turns his attention to her, looking for an answer. Remembering to behave like Tash…
A name…
Stuart…
Tash’s eyes came back into focus and she removed the glove, replacing it with her current one. “Well, well,” she murmured. “No wonder you didn’t want Delancre to know about you. The sly old bastard.”
Giggling, she returned to her bike.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 10th May 2007 – 2:20pm – Location Fluid
The pair were silent for several minutes as the Monte Carlo began to move down the road, even the music turned off. Touring Delancre’s headquarters in Los Angeles had been a dark and foreboding experience. Just the amount of loyalty there, the claims of being well treated… and supposedly peaceful demonic species in the army.
In the silence, Nikolai got the chance to think, to wonder if anything at all had managed to actually go wrong. And even if it hadn’t, with that Slayer and her dislike for them… part of him wondered if leaving Alicia had really made her safe, or just hurt her needlessly. Sighing, Nikolai tried to focus on something else than the rising doubts and worry. “Did you notice Ana’s feelings towards us back there?” he finally asked.
Kate’s brow furrowed slightly as Koyla’s question washed over her. She felt similarly disturbed by what they had just been witness to but for entirely different reasons. Tash had warned her about the kind of force the First Elder held mastery over, but suspiciously a small part of her hadn’t really believed it. But it was true, and frightening to behold; Delancre wielded considerable power and not just amongst the Watchers’ Council. His demonic army obeyed his every command, as did the Slayer.
“She’s incredibly loyal to Delancre,” said Kate tiredly in response to Nikolai’s question. The past hour had really drained her mentally, what with blocking Delancre from probing their thoughts as well as trying to read him herself, not to mention the exertion of upholding her pretence of being in awe of such a despicable man. “She’s insolent and arrogant, but she’s not evil, Koyla…” Kate sighed, *Though that might not make the slightest difference if it comes to a final battle.*
Nikolai nodded in acknowledgement. True, she wasn’t evil but she was loyal. Fanatically loyal. “I don’t doubt that if she were given the order to kill us she would, though,” he said with a large amount of regret. And Delancre… the man should have been a Russian, he thought. “Katya, I need to ask you, you don’t think we blew our cover, do we?”
“Honestly? I don’t know Koyla,” admitted Kate, her eyes glancing in the side mirror to look for a sign of Alessa. She had been following them but now it seemed she was nowhere to be seen. Still, she needed to return Tash’s bike and other things so she might have taken a quicker route.
“Delancre seemed… I don’t know, less than enamoured with our visit despite his pretence to the contrary.” Kate shrugged a little, “I can’t really be certain about anything that I sensed, the wards in the compound were particularly potent. It was difficult enough using magic to disrupt his attempts to read our own thoughts without trying to make an offensive manoeuvre. He just felt…” Kate chewed on her lower lip, “a bit delusive on occasion, perhaps a bit more polite than he actually felt.”
Kate laughed inside at that, she had been incredibly polite to the First Elder, pretending to enjoy his attentions and warmly accepting his courtesy with many a smile. She’d even pandered to his ego, calling him ‘my Lord’ and maintaining that discreet distance behind him as they’d walked that bespoke of her accepted inferiority to his lofty birthright of the Earl of Romney and Vicomte du Morbihan. *Maybe I should have been an actress after all,* thought Kate with a frown even though the entire pretence had made her feel quite nauseated.
“I’m not sure he entirely believed that we were converted to his cause. I just hope we didn’t provoke him into implementing his plans sooner than expected. If he thinks we’re getting close he might decide not to wait any longer and right now we are no match for that army of his.”
Noticing Koyla’s worried expression Kate turned to him, sitting sideways in her seat as she focused her attention on her friend. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Koyla,” she said gently. “Even if he does decide to make a move he’s a cautious man by all accounts, he won’t risk everything that he’s built up here over the past few months by making a reckless decision.”
Nikolai sighed, turning down another street. It was best not to think about such things, and she was probably right. He still felt a little guilty, though. If he did make a move, it could easily be a series of kill- no, he wouldn’t allow himself to think of such things. “I am just worried about Alicia,” he confided. “I’m worried that our relationship may have put her in danger so I… um…”
He sighed again, shaking his head. “I only ask because I left her to protect her, an attempt to keep her safe.” It didn't make it feel any better to say it, or him regret it any less, he found. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't..."
Kate’s face slowly hardened at Nikolai’s words and her eyes narrowed to focus on her friend. “What is it with you men?” she said sharply, her voice brittle with disapproval. Galen had used a similar excuse on her when they had first met, not for a reason to break up with her but as a pretext for why he had lied to her about his work. She had been angry then and hearing Nikolai voicing similar excuses as legitimate reasons for breaking up with Alicia only reawakened her feelings on that subject.
“You see a woman and you instantly think ‘poor feeble little creature, I must protect her from the big bad world’? Believe it or not Koyla, some of us are quite capable of looking after ourselves, MORE than capable!”
“He-hey, that’s not all of it,” Nikolai protested meekly, glancing over at Kate’s fuming expression. He could tell that he had struck a nerve; a blind man could see that. Still he felt he had to say something more to defend himself. “I didn’t want to, I just - I thought that if something went wrong, the Council wouldn’t go after her if we weren’t still dating. It’s not something I’m proud of doing, but I didn’t want her to suffer for me fucking up.”
“Besides,” his voice lowered and got more distant, as he remembered the things that were bugging him the past few days. “That’s not the main reason. The main - she deserves better than me. Better than a former hitman who can return to his old ways without so much as a second thought, and then doesn’t even know what he’s capable of. She deserves someone who’s good by his own choice, not because he had a demon merge with him.”
That had been the sticking point for him when he started to rethink everything. The fact that he was half-demon, that she was with the Council, and that absent the merging he would still be a cold-blooded killer or former killer.
Kate settled her temper a little, trying to tell herself that Nikolai was not Galen and that his relationship with Alicia was far different from what they had been through. Still, something in Nikolai’s justification bugged her. “So… this sudden change of heart has nothing to do with the woman you laid a couple of weeks ago?”
Nikolai took his eyes off the road to look directly at her, glad that the car would be able to help him avoid traffic. What was worse, it make no sense at all for him to just play dumb. Not when he was talking to a telepath. That he still wore his bracelet never crossed his mind. “I-how-what-how did you…?”
Suddenly he turned his eyes back onto the road when the car honked of its own accord, to drag his attention back to the street. He’d not even had a chance to talk to the woman again, and hadn’t even considered her. “No - yes - I mean… I can’t explain it, what happened, but if I can’t even stay loyal to her, doesn’t that prove I’m not good enough? And just how did you know about that?” Though his first guess was simply that she’d picked it up from his cryptic comment.
Kate shook her head in dismay. “Don’t worry Koyla, I didn’t read your mind,” she assured him. “Nothing quite so dramatic I’m afraid. I bumped into Alicia over a week ago, I could tell she was upset and we started talking. She wanted to know about the virus and what you’d told me about this other woman… I have to admit Koyla, I know I’m not exactly one to judge but I never expected that kind of behaviour from you.”
Kate turned her eyes back to the road also, focusing on some distant point up the highway. “As for the loyalty thing… does that mean anyone who slips up doesn’t deserve the chance to make up for it? By your reasoning Galen and I have no future whatsoever…” Kate sighed again, leaning back in her seat a little more comfortably, the tiredness was really starting to hit her now.
“I’m not saying our situations are the same. Galen and I have been through a lot together and we made a lifetime commitment to one another. Maybe you don’t feel there’s enough in your relationship with Alicia worth trying to save… but I do know that if you’re using this excuse of wanting to protect her just so that you can break up with her, so that you can pursue this other woman with a guilt-free conscience, you’ll end up hurting more people in the long run.”
Kate could hear Nikolai release a burdensome sigh and she turned in her seat again to regard him closely. “You might think Alicia is as tough as old boots but I’ve known her longer than you. She might be sensible and… and reasonable, but she’s still a human being, she’s still a woman, and she’s not as strong as she likes to make out she is. I know it took a lot for her to open up to you, so if you’re going to break her heart you should at least have the decency to be honest about it.”
Nikolai knew that only all too well. It had been a stroke of fate meeting Alicia for him as well. He’d had relationships before, but this was something new for him - more than just caring. In truth, he did want to do something to save the relationship… but did he deserve to? And how could Kate compare their two situations? She and Galen were still fundamentally good people.
“I, I am being honest about it,” he stammered in meek protest. The idea that he was leaving Alicia for another woman, a woman he barely knew - or barely knew in this life at any rate - was confusing to say the least. “I don’t know much about her, just… do you believe in reincarnation? In any sense? There’s a feeling, a connection, that we were together before. I don’t know what it means. Right now, I don’t want to pursue it. All that matters to me right now is keeping Alicia safe, Katya.”
He could feel some of her annoyance at the repeated line as he struck the old nerve again. That was definitely a line of logic to stay away from. Taking a moment to regain his composure, he breathed steadily for several moments before continuing. “There is evil within me. Terrible evil. All this virus did was allow it to escape. Until I know I can be the kind of man I had become before it… the man she fell in love with… how can I do anything? How can I be with her, and be honest?”
“I don’t know, Koyla,” admitted Kate with a compassionate smile. He was in a mess all right. She knew that he cared about Alicia, he wouldn’t be tearing himself apart over breaking up with her if he didn’t. But this other woman… Nikolai’s quick avoidance of talking about her in any great detail was a little worrying. Who was she? Where did she come from? When had she suddenly appeared in Koyla’s life and more importantly… why?
“I just know that if you really wanted to be with her, nothing would stop you,” said Kate soberly. “I know there are different kinds of love out there, but as much as Galen and I have hurt each other I couldn’t live without him in my life. Maybe that’s silly, we could really destroy one another but I know it would break my heart if I never saw him again, if we never held one another, if we never kissed…”
Kate swallowed emotionally, feeling herself getting quite unsettled by this topic of conversation. “I don’t know about past lives, it’s certainly a strongly held belief in my path. I know that souls often recognise each other if they have a strong tie, but it’s not always for the right reasons.”
Kate lay a kind hand on the man’s shoulder. “And you’re not evil, Koyla. Would you be so upset about all this if you were? Would you be so desperate to do the right thing? I’m your friend, Nikolai, so I’m going to be straight with you: breaking up with someone is never easy, especially when there’s a third party involved. No matter how you phrase it, you will hurt someone, there’s no avoiding that. But you have to be honest with yourself as much as anyone else, it’s the only way. And as for this other woman… if there really is something there you have to be honest with her too.”
Nikolai swallowed hard. Again she brought up Simryn, and again, he was forced to wonder… just what was there? But Kate was right about a number of things, so what if she was right about him having feelings for this other woman, if he was leaving Alicia so that he could pursue her? The problem was Kate was right about too damn many things.
“You’re right, I do have to be honest with myself,” he started. “That’s why… when all this is over, with the Council, I have to leave. For a while, at least. I have to try to find myself, because I’ve lost track of who I am inside and I promise, that made a lot more sense when I thought it.” He sighed again, feeling her anxiety and unease at the topic. “I’m sorry, I can tell I touched a nerve… perhaps we should find something else to talk about?”
Kate was a bit shocked at Nikolai’s revelation that he was leaving, “I understand why you feel you need to find out who you are,” she said gently, ignoring his last question. It was actually good that they talked about their personal lives otherwise what else would they talk about? Ambrose Delancre and his army of brainwashed demonic soldiers? No, she would much rather talk about Nikolai. Besides, realising that other people’s lives were less than perfect was some small consolation that she wasn’t some kind of tragic misfit to whom bad things couldn’t help but happen.
“… and I understand why you can’t do that here in Los Angeles,” she finished, giving Koyla’s shoulder a slight squeeze. He turned to face her momentarily and Kate smiled, “So long as you promise to come back… there are people who need you here, me especially.”
Nikolai returned the smile, glad that they were able to still focus on less than deadly things for a little while. Still he didn’t know where exactly he was supposed to go, just that he could find it - he’d already looked through one or two of the books for clues to find the location. The most surprising thing was the thought that Kate needed him; he’d thought she had everyone and everything she needed with Galen.
“I will come back,” he finally said. “I don’t know exactly how long it will take, or exactly where I’m going… just to a place in India, something half-remembered from L’Than.” When they reached the next red light, he gave a concerned glance in her direction, with an eyebrow raised. “So, tell me… how is everything between you and Galen? Things seem to have improved greatly.”
“Things are getting better I suppose, slowly,” said Kate with another tired sigh. “A lot of things have changed for us recently though… I guess it’ll take a while before we find our feet again. I just know that I love him and I want things to work out for us.” She tried not to let her words have double meaning but it was difficult, after all she and Galen were taking the difficult route, it would have been so much simpler just to call it a day, like Nikolai on Alicia. The difference was that she felt too strongly for her husband to give up so easily.
“I know it’s going to take time, I just wish…” Kate closed her eyes momentarily, sighing once more. “I just wish things could go back to how they were before… I mean, things have been good, we’re talking more and I know that he loves me but I can’t help but feel like he’s keeping his distance, like maybe he thinks I’m going to hurt him again.”
Nikolai thought for a moment, remembering the advice that he’d given Galen a while ago. He could probably guess that Galen didn’t want to pressure Kate too much or force her into doing anything, out of concern for her.
“I think he’s more worried about pushing you into something you aren’t ready for,” he replied softly, turning to smile at Kate. He picked up on the little bit of subtext directed at him, and knew that he would be back to doing a fair amount more meditation before the night was over. “I don’t think I need to tell you just how paranoid Galen is, it’s always a background emotion with him. Some days I think you’re the only person he’s actually capable of trusting.”
Kate laughed a little but felt her cheeks redden slightly at the implication of Nikolai’s words. “You might be right, but then again with this virus I’m beginning to know how that feels.” Kate glanced in the side mirror again. Still no sign of Alessa.
“We all have our suspicions after all.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 10th May 2007
3:22pm
The Big House
“Thank you Mrs O’Donnell,” said Kate politely as she gratefully took the cup of tea offered to her by the housekeeper, warming her hands on the pretty china cup while waiting for the contents to cool before she could drink.
“Oh, no need for all those airs and graces,” chuckled the woman as she filled up Nikolai’s cup with the strong coloured liquid. “Miss Hunt and I are on quite informal terms here, you can call me Donny.”
Kate nodded graciously at the smiling woman as she attended to their every need. She had been incredibly friendly upon their arrival over thirty minutes ago, welcoming them inside with a cheery grin - apparently Alessa had informed her beforehand that they would be coming and so their sudden arrival had been far from unexpected.
Kate leaned back into the soft armchair with a weary sigh. The tea helped a little but she still felt quite tired and on top of everything they had lost Alessa as they had made their way out of the compound. Kate hoped that she was all right and that nothing unforeseen had occurred. She glanced at her watch again before her eyes turned to the door, willing the form of Alessa to come sauntering in at every passing minute.
Nikolai carefully balanced a cup of tea, noticing the emotional feel of the place as he settled in. This was a house where a lot, and he meant a lot, of emotional tension had been present. It lent a certain look to the decor, making him possibly think slightly less of the look than he otherwise might have. Sighing, he resisted the urge to look at his watch as well. "I could always go look for her," he offered.
Kate shared Nikolai’s anxiety but she shook her head, “No… we should stick to the plan. If we start raking over Los Angeles looking for her it might appear suspicious and Gaia only knows what kind of spies Delancre has working for him. Besides,” said Kate, glancing at her watch again, “she’s not that late. We should give her another hour before we start to panic, you know what traffic is like in this city.”
Alessa jumped out of her car, relieved to see the black Monte Carlo parked in the large extension before the doors. She walked quickly into the house and headed the huge living room in the back, from where the sound of talking reached her. As she got to the room she saw that Donny had already served tea, probably in an attempt to make them feel at home. Tea was the woman's personal answer to everything. However, Nik and Kate looked tense and she cursed herself again for taking so long. But after leaving Tash she had taken forever to catch a taxi to the parking lot where she had left her VW.
"I'm sorry," she said, as she rushed inside the room, slipping onto the plush sofa next to Kate.
Nikolai looked at Alessa in concern, feeling a bit more worry and anxiety about her than he had expected to feel. "Quite all right," he assured her. "At least you are here safe, and that is the important thing. Is something wrong?"
“Yeah, you could say so. A couple of things," she said, tiredly, folding back the arms of Tash's shirt. She hadn’t wanted to change back to her clothes when she realized how late she was, and she felt uncomfortable. "I ran into Tash, leaving the mansion," she added simply, knowing that questions would shower over her.
Kate shared an alarmed look with Nikolai before they both turned back to Alessa. “She saw you? As… well, as herself?” she asked in shock. She didn’t know what was more surprising, that Alessa had run into Tash or that she was still here to tell the tale. “What happened?”
Alessa made a face. "Well, she wasn’t very happy about it, at first." She brushed her hair back and leaned forward to take off the too-big boots. She could feel the impatience of her friends, but she hadn’t had time to think clearly about what had happened.
Without looking at them she went on. "She didn’t take long to guess what we had been doing. She had spotted your car leaving too, and put it all together." When she raised her head again, after massaging her feet, her face was hard. "However… she agreed not to tell on us."
Kate didn’t even realise she’d been holding her breath until that last sentence had been spoken. At Alessa’s words she let go a quiet sigh of relief; if Tash was willing to go along with not ratting them out to Delancre then maybe, just maybe she’d been telling the truth last week about her not being Delancre’s puppet girl as everyone had supposed and that she was in fact working to undermine the First Elder from the inside.
“Well… that’s good then,” she said after realising that Nikolai and Alessa were both looking at her.
Nikolai snorted in disbelief at the thought, though he felt the rising curiosity come from Kate. Still, after the way that Tash had behaved at the White Hat meeting when she presented the information... "I don't believe it. She was a bit too sincere in telling us about Delancre's offer of an alliance. You saw the way she recoiled from even the slightest hint that anything was wrong, and the kind of loyalty he has from his troops. How do we know that whatever Delancre does to them, he didn't do to her?"
Sitting back, he thought darkly, *I swear, if she puts us in danger, they will be fishing pieces of Tash out of their soup in LA for months to come.* Then immediately recoiled. Where the hell had that come from?
“That’s a very serious accusation, Koyla. We don’t know anything that’s going on back there,” said Kate sharply, trying to redirect Nikolai’s anger away from just Tash - if she was still working for the White Hats, albeit covertly, she would need backup eventually. “We’re missing the point. If Tash is willing to keep our secret then that’s good for us, it’ll buy us more time to marshal a resistance… in case the worst should happen.”
Kate took a careful sip of her now cooled tea, replacing the cup on the saucer thoughtfully. “I’ve been holding off doing this until we knew more… something but I think I’ve waited long enough. I have contacts within the Watchers’ Council, reliable contacts. I think it’s time I made a few discreet long distance phone calls.”
Nikolai fixed Kate with a steady gaze. An underlying amount of indecision betrayed her, and she was the last person he expected to want to give Tash the benefit of the doubt - not after the things that Tash had called her at that meeting. "You know something, don't you, Katya? I can feel the conflict within you... desire to hold back something. What makes you think that Tasha would be willing to keep our secret, and not just be doing this as a way to put us at ease before the final blow can fall?"
“I don’t know,” admitted Kate weakly. She was too tired for a confrontation and too tired to hide what she knew any more. She had only kept Tash’s secret from the others because she didn’t want it to jeopardise their mission, but now that was over… “Tash came to see me the day after you did, Koyla. She…” Kate bit her tongue in an effort to hold back what she had been about to say about her bringing the letter and her manipulation. She would only have to explain things from the beginning again.
“She wanted a spell from me, a spell to stop Delancre from reading her true intent.”
Alessa looked from one to the other without really listening. She had sat lotus position on the sofa and was still massaging her feet, an absent look on her face.
"Stuart is Delancre," she blurted, suddenly.
Nikolai was in the middle of sipping his tea when Alessa said that, the shock causing him to spit out a good mouthful and begin choking. Kate sat there for a moment watching him, before getting up and soundly pounding his back as he continued to cough.
"Spaseba," he said, the final coughs clearing his throat. Tash wanting a spell to protect her from Delancre was one thing, and could have a number of explanations - Nikolai had a hard time believing she had 'reformed' anyway, especially with Stuart... Kate's confusion at the name was evident.
"Stuart Montrose, a Watcher who gave Alessa information on the 'rogue' faction in Colombia - which could very well be false. I find it more likely that Delancre himself controls the facility there, since the simpler explanation fits the evidence better than it being a 'renegade' faction. If Stuart is Delancre.... are you sure Stuart is Delancre? If he is...." Nikolai let that hang. Nobody needed to hear him complete the thought that if the two of them were the same, Delancre already suspected at least Alessa's involvement in trying to uncover his plans. They couldn't afford to take anything for granted, not with a man who could engineer an army of demons to fight for him. In fact, they could have just walked into a very elaborate trap.
Alessa laughed, hysteria growing in her. "Sure? Oh yes, I'm sure." She couldn’t control herself, she thought of Stuart's hands on her and laughed again, tears flowing from her eyes. With effort, she managed to speak again. "I'm pretty sure, you bet.” At this another peal of laughter raked her, and she bent over, holding her stomach.
Kate looked horrified. Despite what Nikolai had just blurted out she was only just piecing together what was going on. Ambrose had pretended to be this Stuart Montrose person, bringing Alessa false information about a rogue faction of Watchers that had been responsible for her kidnapping and taking her to Colombia. Only… something else had happened too…
Kate returned to Alessa’s side and rubbed her back gently in a bid to try and calm the distraught woman though that seemed far from a possibility. “Shhhh, shhhh,” she soothed quietly, gathering back Alessa’s hair from her face and continuing to rub her back. “It’s okay… whatever he did…” Kate grimaced as she was suddenly treated to a series of thoughts and feelings that were all crashing together upon her friend. “Alessa… you’re with friends now…”
Nikolai wanted to move over to Alessa to comfort her as well, but stayed back simply to give the two women enough room to breathe... then the various emotions hit him as they rolled over him. Nikolai didn't want to know how Kate dealt with thought and image at the same time as well; at the moment, he just found a desire to make Delancre pay for whatever he had put Alessa through.
"Yes," he said, his accent creeping back into his voice. "Ve are here to help you."
Slowly Alessa's laughter died, and she felt comforted by Kate's touch and Nikolai's words. She couldn’t erase Delancre's words and touch but it helped. She breathed in and held the air, closing her eyes, then she released her breath in a long sigh. "I know," she said, opening her eyes.
She dared to think again about it now. Delancre had impersonated Stuart, and he didn’t know she had discovered his ruse. She laughed again, and caught Nikolai's worried look to Kate. "Don’t worry, I won’t get all hysterical again. But it's quite ironic, don’t you think?"
Kate shook her head, continuing to comfort Alessa while casting another confused look at Nikolai. “Ironic? I don’t understand…”
Nikolai looked at Alessa in confusion, though he remembered some of the documents he'd been shown. "I really don't either, although... you're thinking of the fact that the First Elder himself gave you the evidence that it was the Council that held you?"
"Not really, although it comes to it. The First Elder contacted me posing as someone else, and I discovered him posing as someone else too. A fact he isn’t aware of, fortunately." She looked triumphantly at them. "Don’t you see? It's perfect."
Kate nodded and smiled, though it was hardly encouraging. Delancre had deceived Alessa in the worst way, posed as someone she thought she could trust and then… Kate shook those images from her mind as she reached out and picked up the teapot that Donny had left behind. It was still warm so Kate poured out a cup for Alessa, stirring in a spoonful of sugar to help calm her nerves.
“Here,” she said gently, passing her friend the cup, “drink this, it’ll make you feel a little better.” Kate paused for a moment, silently observing her two friends for a moment. “I haven’t been entirely honest with the both of you either. When Tash came to my home she… well she told me that Delancre plans to take over the city and that the demons in his employ weren’t there voluntarily, that he had them brainwashed so that they would blindly follow his orders.”
Kate purposefully avoided Nikolai’s stare as she continued. “Tash told me that she was working from the inside, trying to foil Ambrose’s plans but-” Kate sighed, “Tash has the virus. I, I was only suspicious of it before but after what happened… I’m convinced. I’m not saying we can’t trust her, but I’d rather not put all our eggs in one basket. If we do nothing and just wait for Tash to make her move and she fails…” *or worse she betrays us,* “then we’ll have lost any chance of stopping him.” Kate returned her attention to Alessa, stroking her back gently again, “And I simply won’t allow that to happen.”
Nikolai sighed at the news that Tash was infected as well. That certainly made his suspicions increase, though he could guess how Kate figured this out at the bitterness that flared up in her when mentioning knowing about the infection. Tash had probably done or said something hurtful towards her. He would ask about it later, when there were less pressing concerns. However, at least they now knew how Delancre made his army loyal. Though there was still the worry that they had walked into an elaborate trap - or soon would.
Tash having the virus, if anything, made Nikolai less willing to trust her. Then there was the brainwashing - even with it, if Tash was brainwashed by Delancre, she might very well have shown up to tell Kate that she was working from the inside while she wasn’t. Or would be perfectly willing to deceive them for her own benefit.
“We still need to find a way to cure this virus,” Nikolai pointed out, as these thoughts raced through his head. “I can make it a reasonable conjecture that whatever my Finding did for me is starting to wear off… but you’re right, about not putting our eggs in one basket. I should be meeting with Dmitri again rather soon to discuss the… situation. At least one family will be prepared to back us.”
Kate nodded in agreement but she wasn’t too sure Nikolai should be getting himself in any deeper with his mob connections, though if his virus was regaining a hold on him again then it probably was impairing his judgement.
“I’m working on it, but it could take a while. Mana is a very transitory substance, it seems to flow in peaks and can dip quite dramatically after any expenditure of a mystical nature – which is probably why your… ‘Finding’ lessened its hold, albeit temporarily. As your body’s mana levels began to rise again the virus, even in its weakened state started to feed and grow stronger.”
Kate sighed a little, rubbing her forehead in anxiety. “I think I’m going to have to look at a complete mana draining ritual. So long as there’s any of this substance remaining in the body then the virus has something to feed from. If the mana is completely drained from a subject then it should, effectively, die from starvation. At least… that’s my theory,” added Kate with an uneasy glance at her friends.
“Which brings me to something I wanted to ask.” She turned to Alessa, her face painted with worry. “Koyla told me a friend of yours had found a way to test for the virus… I want to be tested, just to make sure.” At Nikolai’s snort of disapproval Kate frowned and turned to him, “I have to be sure, one way or another, if I am infected and I don’t get cured with everyone else then there’s a chance the virus could be passed on again.”
Alessa grimaced. She didn’t know what to make of Ellis these days. She felt a pang of guilt, Ellis had been furious with her seeing ‘Stuart’ and things had got out of hand, way out of hand. If she had been more careful… but she hadn’t even spared a thought for his feelings, and just flaunted the whole thing in his face. She hadn’t seen him again after that. But then Ellis was infected too, and so was she. Damn, it was all so complicated!!
She hid her face in her hands and breathed in again, to calm down. “Ellis is infected too, and apparently out of control. I haven’t seen him in a couple of days.” Brushing her hair out of her face, she raised her eyes. “But I can talk to Mike, he’s Ellis’ partner. He was the one who put the entire testing thing in motion, and he’s clean. No problem.”
Casting a curious glance at Nik, to see his reaction to this conversation she added, “The virus can be detected with a combination of brain scans and behavioural tests. It’s pretty conclusive, but what do you mean by mana?”
Kate glanced at Koyla too; she thought he would have passed on her findings on to Alessa but apparently not. But then with everything with Alicia and the virus he’d probably forgotten. “I found an article in one of my books,” explained Kate to the demoness.
“To simplify, mana is some sort of substance that is present in beings of a supernatural nature, so vampires, demons, witches…” she looked poignantly at Nikolai, “empaths… the list is endless. It fluctuates in varying levels in different people which might go some way to explain why some of us have been more susceptible to this virus than others. From what I found out when I read Koyla’s mind, the virus attaches itself to mana and begins to feed. The more mana the stronger the virus. But in people without mana it just runs its course like any other illness. I don’t know for certain, I mean the books I’ve read don’t have any specific rites for this kind of thing but if we can draw out the mana then the virus should just become inert like, say, the common cold.”
Alessa thought for a moment. “Mana. Well, Mike will be pleased to hear about that, till now we hadn’t figure out what the thing fed on. That makes perfect sense; Ellis has a small psychic ability, that may be why it took so long to fully impact his personality. However… it doesn’t explain why my cousin is not infected, or why my own case seems to be milder.”
At their puzzled looks, she explained, “My amygdala is enlarged, that’s how you know a person is infected, but not as much as Ellis or some of his supernatural employees.”
“Well, I’m not certain that I am infected either,” added Kate, “though like I said, I want to be sure. But I guess… it’s like any other virus, some people might have a higher immunity against an infection, or maybe it just didn’t take a hold like it has on other people. My main concern is how it arrived in Los Angeles and whether it’s a natural virus or…” Kate shared a worried glance with her friends. “Lately I’ve been wondering whether someone might have created it.”
"If they did, they might have also created a cure along with it," Nikolai speculated. That would make sense. If someone created it they wouldn't want the wrong people to get infected. But to what end? Even if someone did create it, it could be a leftover weapon of some sort - the only use I can think of is to break up the cohesion of a group or gain allies."
They remained silent for a few seconds, then Alessa spoke again. “It could be, the virus has managed to provoke just that. If it is artificial or not, I don’t think we’ll know, at least if we don’t learn some new information. But we could track it to the first infected, I think.”
She turned to Kate, a thought forming in her mind. “You said the virus provoked some kind of illness? I kinda remember everybody falling ill those first weeks after I got from Colombia, don’t you? In fact I was very ill for a few days, and Daye said I had picked some kind of virus in the jungle. I was in and out at the time, but I clearly remember that.”
Nikolai nodded at that. It did seem to make sense if it provoked some kind of physical illness along with it. “Da, and I did fall rather ill after Emma’s funeral – strange. That would have explained why things I saw were even stranger.” Especially having seen his now-dead boss show up to talk to him. “But if it came with you from the jungle, that would probably mean you picked it up there at some point.”
Kate grimaced some at that thought. If it was a man-made virus, she could make the connections, and didn’t like what she saw. But if Ambrose Delancre could brainwash a demon army, why couldn’t he have been behind the virus too? “You aren’t saying that she was infected in the facility, are you?”
“Possibly,” replied Alessa. “That would be my guess at any rate. I’m a jungle demon. Nothing natural to the jungle would affect me so. Even less in a jungle so similar to my own; Colombia's rain forest is not so different from Paraguay's,” Alessa said with surety, “Of course that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be natural, it could have been brought to the jungle by another demon… ”
She bit her lip, a grim look in her face. “We can’t really know, can we? I could have ‘picked’ it up, or I could have been purposely infected as part of some sick experiment. I don’t remember anything, after all.”
Nikolai hated the thought that had popped into his head. He suspected that the memories of her time in Colombia were probably much better off forgotten, but unfortunately he couldn’t think of any other way. “I hate to suggest this, but… do you think we should try something to restore your memory?” *Please say no,* he thought. *These things probably are better forgotten.*
She let a small laugh out, and shook her head. “I’m sorry to tell you that I’ve already tried, and it didn’t work. Daye tried to break the spell when they found me and so did Cole last month, with the same results.”
Nikolai nodded, looking at the two women to try to figure out what exactly they needed to do. As far as he could tell, the primary things they had to focus on for the moment at least were finding a cure, and finding out if Kate was infected. He groaned at the sudden realization. “It looks like we’ll have a large amount of research to do, then. But I would like to say that if you – either of you – need someone to talk to, I will be there for you.”
Alessa nodded, but she looked away at the ocean that showed across the window. “I know, Nik. Thank you.” There was so much she had to tell, and so few people she could talk to. Nikolai’s offer was heartfelt but she doubted she’d be able to take it. Not about the important things, about intimate things. She thought of Oz, and wondered again what had taken her to talk to him so thoroughly, probably his ‘angelic’’ origin was to blame.
Kate smiled sadly at her friend as she turned to look out the window. Maybe it was better if Alessa didn’t know what had happened on that island in Colombia but Kate also knew how distressing it could be when someone had played with your memories.
Though, unlike Cole and Amanda, Kate had much more skill and experience when it came to telepathy and various mind-reading techniques, especially since that had been her role when she had worked for The Coven of Sindell and part of that role had been to get around mind blocking spells and the like. But looking at Alessa, Kate wasn’t sure such an offer would be well received. Besides, it would probably be best if they found a way to cure this virus first. *One step at a time,* she told herself.
“Yes well…” said Kate steadily, “More research I can cope with; a horde of demonic foot soldiers are more of a problem. Which is why we need to get ourselves together. Tash might have put the final nail in the coffin of the White Hats but I don’t see why we should have to be reliant on her to get ourselves organised. There’s the three of us, plus Darian and Reah… even Cole… have I missed anyone?”
“Well, I know they aren’t White Hats, but if we get to cure the virus, Ellis and Mike could help in the fight too. And there’s this man who works for me, Oz, he could help too. He’s handy with a sword. I’m sure all of them would.”
"And then there’s the mob, but I have a feeling you don't want me going to them," Nikolai said with a pointed look at Kate, having felt her dislike of the idea before. Then he stopped in surprise. Oz wasn't exactly the most common name. "Oz?"
“Yes, Oz. Why?” Alessa asked, surprised. “Ozimandius DeAngelo is his full name. Do you know him?”
"Yes, the last I saw him, he was looking for a new place to stay, then he vanished one day when I was ill - how did you meet him? Is he here?"
“Well, I met him by accident and offered him a job. He lives in the apartment over the garages. She smiled, “It proved a good decision, he’s the one responsible for the excellent state of the gardens and general maintenance.”
Kate bridled a little at the mention of the man’s name. Ozimandius DeAngelo, of course she’d heard of him. There probably wasn’t a person in Los Angeles who hadn’t, and she had been privy to the more particular aspects of the case seeing as her husband was partner to James Anderson who had ‘witnessed’ the ordeal. Hell, she’d sat through many of the trial hearings, had seen the man DeAngelo with his long unwashed hair and weary unshaven face as he stood before his judge.
She had heard the evidence against him, seen the facts, but it was only after seeing the man himself that she was convinced of his ‘innocence’ – at least she knew he hadn’t murdered those people with his own hands, not that her conjecture would have made the slightest bit of difference.
“Well he must be very good at his job,” Kate said finally, hiding her concern, “if this place is any indication of his talent.”
Nikolai did his best to notice Kate’s emotions as the flicker of recognition passed over her face. Despite the politeness, he could tell there was a small bit of unease to her at hearing that Oz worked there. Not that this was surprising, with what he was accused of. And Nikolai knew from firsthand experience that Oz felt responsible for what happened, even though he hadn’t actually killed those people.
Plus he was an angel, a messenger. After spending time with Oz, he’d got the impression that Oz was one of the few genuinely good people around here. “No doubt he drew his inspiration from Eden,” Nikolai said, in an attempt to calm her worries. “Anyone who sees that would probably take it as an ideal.”
Kate cleared her throat slightly. As much as she’d like to discuss the hired help and the state of Alessa’s rhododendrons they had more pressing matters. “Well if you think this ‘Oz’ would help…” she let the statement linger in the air. “In fact the more the better, right now we need all the help we can get.”
*Including the Watchers’ Council,* thought Kate to herself. Delancre might be the First Elder but Kate’s experience in these matters had taught her not to write off a potential ally because of one bad apple no matter how rotten it was. If rumours about the things he was mixed up in had reached England then there might be enough of an opposition to mount an attack on the compound in Los Angeles, especially if the right evidence could be brought against him.
“Well, I’m sure he can help, I don’t know if he would though…” Alessa said, watching Nikolai closely. From his ‘Eden’ remark it was clear that he, too, knew of Oz’s true nature. She placed her cup of tea on the table. “He’s had a lot of problems lately and maybe he won’t want to get involved in this too. But I’ll talk with him.”
Kate smiled though she could tell there was something about this Oz person that she was missing, she was always wary when Koyla started talking in riddles. But Oz could have had three heads and be made entirely of blue cheese for all she cared right now; if he was willing and could fight then he had her vote.
“So… now I guess we should turn our efforts back to finding a cure for this virus, that and gathering our forces. Hopefully we didn’t arouse Delancre’s suspicions with our actions today but even if we did… I think he’s too cautious a man to mount an attack so abruptly. Still… I think we should exercise much caution.” Kate turned back to Alessa and laid a friendly hand on her shoulder again. “About this Stuart thing… I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now, but please promise me you won’t go doing anything rash. Whatever that man has done to you, the pain that he’s put you through…”
Alessa shook her head, a stubborn look in her face. “Delancre doesn’t know I know. I’m seeing him again,” she said, not wanting to lie, even if it would have served among telepaths. “I could learn something of use,” she added softly. He was Delancre, the First Elder, and she was in the perfect position to learn more. Images of the pictures he had shown her were still imprinted in her mind. She needed to know more.
Nikolai felt several warning bells go off in his mind. They had no idea what powers Delancre himself personally had, and now that they knew he and Stuart were the same person things had become more delicate. "Katya, do you think that the charm will still work?"
Kate really didn’t like this, not one bit, and she wondered why everyone suddenly felt the need to try work both sides. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Kate worriedly though she knew Alessa had made up her mind, just like Tash before her. “The amulet will continue protect you but its power won’t last forever, it’ll grow weaker as time goes by. Please, Alessa,” Kate’s eyes pleaded with the other woman, “If he finds out you’re tricking him you could be in serious danger…”
Nikolai considered this carefully, before smiling as an idea occurred to him. "Of course, if we know where they are going beforehand, I can arrange to have people nearby - should Comrade First Elder decide to try anything, well, he'll live to regret it." At once, he regretted the words, again noticing that he was becoming more and more like his old self again. *Oh... shit...*
“No,” said the demoness, shaking her head again. “I don’t need that, I’m not in danger, and Stu- Delancre won't discover me.” She looked at Kate’s alarmed face and smiled weakly. “Don’t worry, Kate. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise you, but if I stopped seeing him it would be equally suspicious, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess so,” conceded Kate reluctantly. She still didn’t like the idea but there wasn’t very much that she could do about it. “So I’ll get in contact with you about those tests for the virus and then we can set about making a list of those that need the cure and…”
Kate shook her head tiredly; they suddenly had so much to do, it was beginning to feel a lot like old times. An amused smile crept on to Kate’s face at that thought, possibly the first time she had smiled so brightly and freely in months. Looking up she noticed Alessa and Koyla both looking at her with confused expressions on their faces. Kate grinned.
“Believe it or not, a potential apocalypse was just what I needed right now.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
May 10th
6:50 pm
The Big House
Alessa sat in the wet sand of the beach, her legs against her chest and her arms wrapped tightly against her. She wasn’t crying. It seemed she had no tears left, but only a hollow feeling in the middle of her chest. The cold sea water kissed her bare feet but she didn’t notice; she felt cold all over, even in the warm summer afternoon, as she considered her life in the last months.
She had made one mistake after another in what seemed to be a never-ending succession of misjudgements, bad decisions and worse deeds. Ever since she had been back from Colombia and learnt of Chance’s death everything had gone from bad to worse.
“De mal en peor,” she voiced, and the tears that had evaded her flowed at the thought of Chance. “Oh Chance! Why aren’t you here?” she whispered, resting her chin on her knees. “Nothing of this would’ve happened if you were here.”
Chance would have rescued her from Colombia, he would have helped Cole, he would have prevented her from falling in the hands of men like Delancre… she’d never have even looked at him – or Ellis, poor Ellis – if Chance were here…
“You should be here!” she shouted to the sea, a sparkle of her old anger in her. But she knew she wasn’t fair, Chance hadn’t asked to be killed, he had just died. Leaving her all alone, yes, but it was not his fault. Besides, she was putting too much burden on his shoulders. He had been powerful, yes, but not all powerful.
She wiped the tears from her face, angrily. How many mistakes? How many mistakes had she made? She’d slept with Delancre… she shivered, she had let that monster touch her in the most intimate way, and yet somehow the memories weren't as repulsive as she'd expected. But she had spurned Ellis because of that, rejected him in a most vulnerable moment. She felt guilty and ashamed of herself for that. She hadn’t even called to ask about him after the car accident.
No wonder Mike had sounded so cold in the phone when she called to ask him to further investigate Stuart. The conversation had been short and to the point, and she later had realized that she hadn’t told him anything about the ‘mana’ part, nor about the intrusion. Well, at least the ex-hunter had told her Cole was safe at Darian’s, lifting a burden from her shoulders, before she mentioned that she suspected Stuart wasn’t who he claimed to be. Mike had been alert and interested after that and had agreed to see to the matter. He hadn’t asked why she suspected, and it was just as well, she wasn’t ready to tell him about Delancre.
“Let him learn by himself,” she said, and he most probably would.
That brought her to the problem at hand. She had already had to fend off seeing Stuart that night, but he wouldn’t be so easily relegated next time. She had sounded more confident than she really felt when talking to Kate and Nik, but she didn’t know how she could see Delancre again. Alessa shivered again, trying to combine the Stuart who had so charmingly won her with the arrogant, haughty man she had met today.
She doubted she could really learn anything more from him either; he’d probably just stick to his tale. A tale that had never before rung so false. Delancre hadn’t even sounded surprised when she’d mentioned his own lies, he had probably expected her to pass that information along to others. She chuckled; it may have been his target all along.
But not his only one. He had been all too clear about his intentions since the first time ‘Stuart’ had met her, which led to the interesting question of her pictures. Alessa shivered again; it could be no coincidence that the man that had seduced her so thoroughly was the same one who had those pictures in his power and the man behind the Council.
“He could have taken the pictures himself,” she said, giving a sad laugh.
“Who could’ve taken which pictures?”
The voice surprised her and Alessa turned to see Inés walking towards her. The demoness was wearing white, as usual, and her dress reflected the pink light of the setting sun.
“Inés, what are you doing here?” she asked, watching her cousin sit down next to her.
“Your gardener told me you were here,” she explained and grinned. “You didn’t tell me you had such a hottie working for you. I would’ve come more often.”
At Alessa’s poignant stare, Inés sighed and went on. “Well, when you didn’t show up I decided to check on you instead.” Inés couldn’t hide her concern.
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry.” Alessa smiled. After using Inés as excuse for Delancre she had planned on actually seeing her, just in case he was watching her. Somehow she had completely forgotten about it, though.
“So, what’s happening, prima?” Inés asked. Now that she actually saw Alessa she was even more worried.
Alessa looked at Inés for a few seconds, and then turned back to stare at the ocean. The sun had already set and light had that eerie quality of dusk and dawn.
“¿Por dónde querés que empiece?” (1) Alessa asked, reverting to her native tongue in her distress.
“Por el principio estaría bien,” (2) Inés answered, and she leaned back in the sand, propped on her elbows to listen.
Much of what her cousin told her was old news, but a lot was new to her; the virus, Stuart, the pictures, what she’d learnt about her kidnapping time… She went over different emotions as she listened, but didn’t say a word, afraid to interrupt Alessa’s flow of revelations. Finally when her cousin stopped talking, she kept silent for a while.
Inés was the first to speak. “What are you going to do now?” Her tone was calm, but rage swarmed inside her.
Alessa shrugged. “I’ll have to see him again. He’ll suspect something if I don’t, and I don’t want to think what could happen if he discovers me.”
“So, you’ll go back to sleeping with him – because he’ll want that, of course– just to be safe?” Inés snorted. “That doesn’t sound like you, Al. You may deceive your friends, but you can’t deceive me.”
“Well, actually I told Nik and Kate that I’d be trying to learn more, but on a second thought I don’t think he’ll tell me anything new. At least, Stuart won't.”
“What are you planning, Alessa?” Inés asked, more worried than ever.
“Telling him I know who he is.”
“¡Pero!”
“No buts. Stuart can’t go much further, but Delancre can.” Alessa silenced her cousin with a gesture.
“Listen, Inés, he wants me, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths if it weren’t so." Alessa kept the memories from surfacing, he'd want her all right. Focusing on what she was saying she went on. "He probably knows much more about my kidnapping than he says.”
“He could be responsible for your kidnapping for all you know-” Inés stopped talking at the hard look in Alessa’s face.
“Oh no. NO. You can’t mean it. You don’t want only to learn things. You want revenge here, I can tell. You can’t deceive me, Al,” she repeated, horrified at the thought. Alessa couldn’t mean it.
“You can’t do this, Alessa. You just can’t, he’s too powerful and ruthless. It's too much of a risk.” Inés shook her head in despair, trying to talk some sense into her cousin. “What will you do when he wants to fuck you again? Because he will, you know he will. Are you ready to do that?”
Alessa grimaced at the crude language, but she knew Inés had a point. Now that they were lovers he’d probably want that situation to continue. *Would it be so bad?* part of her asked. *Of course it would!* she answered herself. She wouldn’t be that far off turning whore, Ellis' words coming back at her with a vengeance. *But, would it be worth it?* It would put her in a perfect position to act upon it if she learnt Delancre had had something to do with the kidnapping, with those pictures… and if he hadn’t, well in that case she wouldn’t have to worry.
"I will be," she answered Inés, her resolve hardening around herself like a shell.
Alessa rose tiredly. Somehow it was completely dark now, they were well into the night, and she was freezing from the cold, humid sand. She wrapped herself with her arms and turned around, the lighted windows of the house warming her somehow. The windows over the garage were lit too, and she considered telling Oz about all this. But the former angel wouldn’t possibly understand her, even if he didn’t pass judgement.
"That's that virus of yours talking, girl," Inés said, getting up as well. This wasn’t Alessa, no way. Her cousin wouldn’t even consider doing such a thing. She needed to contact Shongu; with James' return she had been remiss about it. But she wouldn’t no longer. Their grandfather would know what to do, he always did.
"Bueno, then there's something to be grateful about being infected, don’t you think?" Alessa said, unaware of Inés' thoughts. She started towards the house, adding from over her shoulder, "If it helps me get through this."
"No podés ser amiga de Dios y del Diablo, Alessa," Inés shouted at her retreating back, in a last attempt to warn her cousin. Alessa only laughed bitterly in response.
----
1- Where do you want me to begin?
2- The beginning would be Ok.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** May 11th, 1pm ***
Longwood Estates
Knock, knock, knock.
Cole paced nervously outside the front entrance of Alessa’s estate; a million ‘what ifs’ raced through his mind as the young teen pictured countless ways she would react to his apology. He had never wanted to fight with her, but while hyped on the dark mojo, temperance was definitely a virtue that he lacked.
After several minutes had passed, Cole realized that either Alessa was out, or she was outside enjoying the lands of the manor. *She’s probably out, you should just go home.* The choice was tempting, but Cole was resolute in his decision; he had to make things right, or at least try, no matter how hard it was.
*Don’t worry, it’s Alessa, what’s the worst that can happen?* he thought, trying to comfort himself as he made his way to the back of the house, where he was met with something he hadn’t prepared for. *I had to ask what the worst was.*
Standing several meters away, tending to some weeds that had grown in Alessa’s beautiful garden, was Oz, the man he had almost killed a month prior.
Instantly, he was filled with the urge to run, but the boy fought it. He had wronged Oz probably worse than anyone, so he of all people deserved an apology. *You have to.* Taking a big gulp the boy forced his feet forward. "Ummm, hey."
Oz continued to operate the weed whacker as if Cole had not spoken. If he ignored him long enough he might go away. The kid looked nervous. Oz supposed that the sword strapped across his broad shouldered back would make most people nervous. That and the fact that the kid didn't have his Kaoshian buddy to back him up.
“Look, I’ve come to… I’ve come to,” Cole said louder, trying to speak above the whacker. “Could you just turn that off for a minute, please? I have something I need to tell you.”
Oz cut the power on the tool and stared at Cole impatiently. "Look, Cole, I am not in a mood to fight with you over your right to have cookies and milk at Alessa's table. If she locked you out, it is okay with me."
Cole’s brain began to conjure up chants to dark spells. *No, no, no!* Clenching his fist, the teen tried to concentrate on happy memories and thoughts, anything that would quell the urge. It had been hard, trying to resist the desires that kept coming to him since Kate had taken away his power. It was almost like a drug, no worse, trying to refrain from falling back into the hold of black magic.
Oz started to fire up the engine again when Cole finally continued, “I didn’t come to talk about Alessa, I came to talk to you.”
For a second, he turned his eyes to the ground, but then stopped, bringing his gaze back to Oz’s eyes. *Be a man about this.* “I came to apologise to you.”
Oz cut the motor abruptly. "Apologise? Why? You showed no remorse the night you gave me this scar," Oz pointed to the pink mark across his neck, "and you certainly didn't give any thought to how you treated Alessa or Ellis. So you want to apologise? Fine. Accepted. But don't expect me or anyone you've hurt to forget what you did."
“I don’t expect you, or anyone for that matter, to forget or forgive what I did,” the boy said, his words seeming to fall of deaf ears. “Not that you care, but I want you to know that it wasn’t really me. Well, it was physically me, just I wasn’t acting like me… I’m rambling.”
Oz didn’t seem impressed, but the boy needed to explain, if for his own sake. “There’s a virus, I don’t understand a lot of it, but I do know that it makes people with magic bad. That’s why I did all those things, well at first that’s why. I started getting into black magic, and that’s when things really got out of control. I…” He was going to continue to explain, but Oz seemed to not even be listening.
“I know it doesn’t excuse what I did to you, but I thought you should know, just so you don’t have to worry about me doing it again. I... I guess that’s all I wanted to say.”
Oz darted forward and grabbed the kid's arm and pulled him around to face him. "Listen kid, I want to make sure you hear every word. Evil is as evil does. No virus, spell, or magical device will make you evil. The best it can do is to make you not care about the consequences of your actions. But evil is how you treat your lack of conscience. I am sorry you had to get that bug, kid, because deep down you wanted to do all those things - you just didn't have to feel bad about it. Now that the guilt is back you want me to forgive you? I can forgive you. But I know what evil is and I won't forget where it comes from."
Oz released his grip and Cole reached up unconsciously to rub the painful muscle where Oz had been squeezing it.
“I did a lot of things I regret,” Cole started, his voice though wavering was tinted with conviction, “But I am not evil.” With that he turned and made his way back to the front of the estate.
Oz’s words kept resounding in his head, as Cole rounded the large estate, finally arriving back to the driveway. Evil is as evil does. The boy frowned. *I’m not evil… I’m not.* As much as he kept repeating it, a small part of him couldn’t help but agree with Oz. *Did I want to do those things before the virus? Sure, I wanted to have Chance back, but no… I wouldn’t have done it that way… I wouldn’t.*
Luckily, or rather unluckily, Cole didn’t have much time to mull over the matter. Before he could leave the premises, a car pulled in. *Of course, just my luck,* he sighed, seeing Ellis Longwood open the door and step out.
Ellis Longwood stepped out of the car in a perfectly tailored suit. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes as he strolled confidently up to Cole. Ellis looked down upon him with all the friendliness of a snake regarding its meal. "Cole. I thought you had gone."
As he spoke he calmly reached into his jacket pocket. Cole sheepishly started to explain when Ellis jammed a stun-gun into the boy's stomach and pressed the trigger. Instantly bolts of pain shot through him as every abdominal muscle tightened and Cole's apology turned into a shriek of pain.
"I'm sorry Cole, I didn't get that part. Can you repeat it?"
Ellis jabbed him again.
Ellis set down the brushed aluminium briefcase he had been carrying. He kicked at Cole's groin but missed as Cole rolled into a fetal ball. Ellis shrugged, "You are tougher than you look, Cole. But you are still young, you might live through this."
Ellis opened his briefcase and removed a quick-load of .45 calibre bullets. Withdrawing his Colt revolver pistol from its shoulder holster he opened the cylinder and loaded the gun in a smooth practiced motion. The boy’s eyes widened in horror as they fell on the gun.
“Vanistus,” he said, after managing to move his hand in Ellis’ direction. Although the spell was nowhere near as strong as the ones he had been casting as of late, it was enough to send the weapon flying from the man’s grip.
Ellis scowled maniacally, as he stomped towards the boy and lifted him violently back to his feet. “Still doing the abracadabra I see,” he hissed.
The pain from the Taser still racked through Cole’s body, making it almost impossible to move. “Please, stop,” he croaked, the muscles in his jaw barely able to move.
“Stop? After what you did to me, you worthless little turd?” The man’s fist shot out, clocking Cole right in the eye, knocking him back to the ground. “Get up you little punk. I SAID, GET UP!”
Longwood pulled the boy upright, only to kick him in the stomach and slam his fist down hard across Cole’s back. “Where are your fancy spells now, eh?”
The man began to kick the boy in the stomach, over and over. Blood began to spew from Cole’s mouth, each new kick causing him to cough up even more liquid. “Stop it, please stop,” he begged.
Ellis tossed up his hands as he backed up and stopped long enough to wipe a drop of blood off his Italian leather shoes. He straightened himself and looked into the boy’s eyes. “I told you that crossing me was a mistake, you waste. I was going to scare you some, maybe shoot you once or twice. You are still young, you might have lived through it.”
He took a few steps over to where the gun had landed and checked it for dirt. "My corporate mage told me that this was the most effective way to dispatch a 'natural' mage. I guess I didn't hold on tightly enough. Since you are still a potent mage, I guess I’ll have to remove you as a threat."
Ellis cocked the hammer of the gun and aimed it at Cole, "Nice knowing you, kid."
The gun discharged and Cole had a moment where he was both relived and terrified that he felt no pain. He opened his eyes and saw that Oz was standing over Ellis' supine form. Ellis' shattered sunglasses were hanging off his face and the gun was pointed directly at Oz.
Oz called to Cole without looking at him, "Are you okay, Cole? Did he hit you?"
The voice barely made its way into Cole’s ear, and once it did his brain was so rattled that he could hardly process the words. He tried to move his head so he could see what had happened, but the agony was too much. It felt like every rib in his body was broken. His muscles still spasmed from the electricity and blood was still running from his mouth and nose.
"You... you... hit me, you criminal!" Ellis sputtered.
Oz lowered the sword point towards Ellis who continued to aim his weapon at Oz. "Cole?" Oz called again.
Ellis was starting to stand and despite his anger and shock the gun didn't waver. "I should have called your parole office weeks ago, Oz. Or better yet, I could have planted evidence of your growing drug habit for the police. They would have been all too happy to cart you off. Or, I know, I'll just execute you in 'self-defence' right here on my lawn."
"It is Alessa's lawn, Ellis. And you will go to jail." Oz kept his voice as steady as his blade.
Ellis laughed, "No, you Neanderthal, it's mine. She just doesn't know it yet. And rich people never go to jail for murder. Didn't the O.J. trial prove that to you people? Shit, why am I wasting my breath?"
Bang!
***
Cole's vision cleared for a moment. Oz was sitting next to him and paramedics were tending to his fractures. Ellis Longwood was nowhere to be seen. Time had passed. "What happened?" Cole asked Oz.
Oz said simply, "He missed. The paramedics will take care of you and the police will be around later to ask you about the gang members who beat you up." Oz hoped that the boy caught onto the story he had fed the dispatcher when he had called.
Cole grabbed Oz's shoulder and Oz winced in pain. "You've been-"
Oz cut him off. Bullet holes were hard to explain, and a shot clean through his shoulder was painful but survivable. Luckily Cole's blood was the same colour.
"I was lucky, kid. Let them work on you and I'll let Alessa know. You should be out of there tomorrow."
"Why did you help me?" Cole said.
Oz grunted, "Evil or not, nobody deserves to be beaten when they are down."
***
Ellis Longwood was miles away. He had driven his car with his uninjured arm and had used the hands-free phone built into the car's dashboard. He was shouting because it helped him forget the blood that was pooling on his leather seats. "Mike, I am telling you I called the police already. Meet me at Mount Sinai and bring the Doc. I don't care about what is going on there at the office, I need you. Things have gotten really out of hand over at Father's house."
Ellis cursed over Mike's reply but its intent was clear enough. "I know he gave it to Alessa, Mike. Shit, everybody seems to want to remind me it isn't mine. Just fucking meet me there. We have to make some plans to clean that place out - it's crawling with criminals, punks, and demons."
Ellis cut the call as he screeched to a halt at a stop light and took the moment to wrap his necktie above the vicious sword wound through his biceps. When the light changed he pressed his car horn violently and swerved to cut off the driver ahead of him. "I have to get to the hospital," he screamed out the window.
He thought to himself, *The cops will deal with Oz. I just hope they find him bleeding to death in his apartment. Or better yet, I hope he pulls that goddam pig sticker on one of them and they shoot the fuck out of him.* The thought of that kept him conscious right up until he passed out and wrecked his car trying to drive into the emergency room.
Fortunately expensive cars have expensive safety systems that save lives.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
May 11th, 2007
7:40 pm
Sacred Heart Hospital
The hospital doors flew open as a young man came jogging through, zigzagging passed the other patience and doctors.
“Sorry… excuse me… sorry about that,” Darian apologized, bumping into several people before finally arriving at the desk. “Hi, I’m looking for Cole Matthews,” he panted, bending slightly to catch his breath.
“He’s in room 116. Now I’ll just need to enquire as to your relation with-” Looking up from her papers, the woman frowned, noticing the man had already disappeared.
* * *
“Oh Cole, I told you it was a bad idea,” Darian said, regretting his decision to let Cole go apologise to those he wronged. Now, seeing the boy’s beaten and bruised body, he couldn’t help but wish he had been stricter.
Turning his neck painfully, Cole only smiled, his swollen lip outdone only by the large black circle around his left eye. “Hey, at least I’m not dead, right?” he said jokingly, trying to wash the frown from his friend’s face.
“It’s not funny, Cole.”
A stab of pain emanated from his broken rip, rushing through the boy’s body, causing him to wince in agony. “Heh, yeah, on second thought, its not that funny.”
Darian grimaced, wishing he could do something to ease Cole’s pain. “Who did this to you? Was it the necromancer’s assistant?”
Shaking his head, the boy closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the pain.
*Just use some magic. All you have to do is leach some strength off these other sick fools and you’ll be better in a second.*
*No, I can’t.*
*Can’t or won’t?*
“Cole?” Darian’s voice filled his mind, pulling him from the conversation he was having with himself.
“Uhh, no no, it wasn’t Onyx. It was Ellis Longwood.” Seeing the confusion on Darian’s face, Cole went on to explain what happened: The meeting with Oz, Ellis’ arrival, everything up until he passed out.
“And then the paramedics came, and well, the rest you know.”
Clenching his fist, Darian made a mental note to pay Mr. Longwood a visit, once Cole was safe and out of the hospital. But before that, he needed to have a talk with the teen. *I can’t believe Alessa would actually associate with someone who could do something like this.*
“I know you wanted to apologise to everyone Cole but sometimes, well, things don’t work out the way we want. If this is what a supposedly normal guy like Ellis does, what do you think Onyx will say if you go see her?”
Cole remained silent, thinking as to what would be the best course of action. He could understand Darian’s renewed worry but, on the other hand, he wasn’t about to let one setback stop him. Of course big brother, in all his heroic, uber-protective nature, wouldn’t understand that so it left the teen with no option other than to flat out lie.
“Yeah, you were right. Maybe I should just lay low for awhile.”
A sigh of relief escaped the fae’s lips as he pulled up a seat next to the bed. “It’s for the best, you’ll see.”
Cole hated having to lie to Darian, but it was the only way.
“So, when can I get out of here? I don’t really like hospitals,” Cole said, shivering slightly as he remembered the last time he had been laid out in one of the white crisp beds; his dad had gone on one of his drunken rampages and beat him senseless, much like Ellis had. That was four years ago, back before Cole had run to LA to start a new life.
“The doctors want to keep you overnight, but I can take you back home tomorrow morning. But I’ll stay with you until then,” Darian said, offering a comforting smile.
The boy returned the smile, before laying his head back into the pillow and closing his eyes. “Thanks.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, 10th May 2007 – 3:50pm
Having taken the time to change into something resembling the clothes Alessa had been wearing on her behalf, Tash approached Delancre’s mansion for the first time that day. She was prepared to do exactly as she’d promised Alessa – cover for them – but only if Delancre appeared convinced that it really had been Tash herself who had brought Nikolai and Kate earlier.
She carelessly leaned the bike against a column at the front and sauntered through the hallways towards Delancre’s study. Unsurprisingly, when she’d buzzed at the gate he had ‘requested’ that she see him in his study right away. The demon outside the door didn’t even speak to her as she approached, but merely rapped upon the door before opening it.
Ignoring the servant completely, Tash swept into the room and stood facing Delancre at his desk. The man gazed at her impassively and Tash could read only a mild level of concern. There seemed to be nothing there that would indicate suspicion as to her identity, but if Delancre were suspicious of her he would surely have raised his shields to their previous impenetrable levels and she would never know.
“Well?”
The word was barked impatiently. With so little to go on, Tash just had to take a gamble and go for it. She cleared her throat.
“All right. I’m sorry I didn’t clear the visit with you first. But they were growing more and more insistent that there was something nasty going on here,” she grinned slyly at Delancre, sharing the joke, “and they simply had to come here to see for themselves. Of course,” she added, casually moving to her usual chair and flopping into it, “they didn’t believe much of what you told them. They said – well, not so much said as thought – that it was too good to be true.”
“Hmm, much as I surmised,” Delancre said, steepling his fingers and eyeing Tash over the tips. “I’d also like to know what took you so long to come back.”
She could hardly tell him she’d had to go home, clean up from the fight with the vampires this morning and then with Alessa, and change into clothes that matched what the woman had worn when facing Delancre. So she stared Delancre in the eye and lied almost outright. It was not generally something she ever did – mostly-truths such as those she’d just told him were far safer to use. She vowed that if Delancre grew at all querulous about her evasion she’d drop Alessa, Kate and Nikolai right in it. This whole thing was really not worth her skin.
“I wanted to stay with them as long as possible, to learn what I could about their feelings. Of course, they were a bit shy about talking in front of me. I daresay they knew I’d come right back here.”
“And what were their feelings?”
“Well, like I said, they don’t believe it’s quite as good as it seems. I’ve tried to tell them that there’s nothing going on here apart from the Slayer doing her job and killing vampires, and the Council helping out with some additional muscle. But I have a feeling they won’t just let this drop.”
“No, neither do I.” Delancre paused and smiled, changing tack slightly. “Natasha, that rumour that you mentioned – may I ask exactly where you heard it?”
Tash blinked. Rumour? Alessa hadn’t told her anything about ‘Tash’ talking of rumours during the meeting. She cursed the woman for expecting her to cover for her and then leaving out important details of the conversation she’d had with Delancre. But it was too late to back out now – she’d committed herself to this coverup. She covered her confusion by appearing to think about where she might have heard a rumour.
“I hear so many different things on the streets, it’s hard to say. And Kate and Nikolai were talking so much about rumours themselves…” she laughed, hoping Delancre would think she was just having a ditzy moment.
“Quite. There are many, many rumours. But you spoke of the one about demons fighting for sport. It’s one that I’ve not really heard before, and I was interested where you’d first heard it.”
Tash didn’t miss the penetrating glance Delancre sent her way, and knew she’d made a gaffe in not knowing this detail. *Goddam Alessa. She’d better make this worth my while or I’ll take it out of her furry hide!*
Not knowing where Alessa had heard the ‘rumour’, Tash waved a hand airily. “It was just something one of the others – Nikolai, I think – had said one day. Of course, I told him it was bullshit.”
Delancre nodded, seeming to be satisfied, and Tash felt her heart start up again. She hoped there wouldn’t be any more hurdles like that one – one slip up Delancre could let pass, maybe. He would never believe in two.
To steer the conversation to safer ground, for her at least, Tash asked, “So what do you plan to do about Kate and Nikolai? I think they bear watching.”
“Oh yes, they do indeed,” Delancre agreed, “And I will be making sure to keep an eye on them.” *And on you, Miss Brookes. Always on you.*
Each smiled guardedly at the other. It was going to be one of those days, Tash could tell.
daye and delancre talk
*** Thursday, May 10, 2007, around 8 pm ***
*** The Council House ***
Ambrose Delancre was fuming. He stood at his office window, staring down upon the grounds of the Council estate. This was his domain. More than in any other place in the world, this was where he reigned supreme. His will was never thwarted inside these walls: never. But, of course, Alessa had just proven that that was not entirely true. He’d called her, posing as the oh-so-charming Stuart, to make arrangements to be with her tonight, but she’d begged off. She’d claimed a prior commitment to that cousin of hers, Inés.
Delancre despised the idea of sharing his delectable demoness, even with her family. He was going to have to do something to eliminate all the distractions in Alessa’s life soon. That buffoon, Ellis Longwood, was no longer a concern. Alessa had seen the light without any interference on his part and dumped the bastard.
*Too bad, really,* Delancre thought. *I would have enjoyed eliminating that ‘distraction’ myself. Probably better in the long run, no need to give pretty Alessa another dead ex to moon over.*
After the disappointing phone call, and the frustrating meeting with the Eldridge witch and her little pet Russian, Lord Delancre was feeling completely out of sorts. Nothing today had gone precisely as he’d planned. Those damn White Hats were a thorn in his side still, even though they’d lost any resemblance to an actual organization. Even the tattered remnants banding together now could still prove to be dangerous. Delancre would have to be careful and keep a close eye on them all. He couldn’t afford to be too trusting. Even Natasha still bore watching.
“They’re all such bloody nuisances,” Delancre muttered, bringing the glass of single malt Scotch to his lips and taking a healthy swallow. The slow burn of the fine liquor was doing a lot to wash away his tension. But the woman just now stepping out of the limousine below his window might be able to do more.
Delancre slipped out of his office and hurried down the steps to the foyer, arriving just as Amanda Blaise gently pushed the door shut behind her. Amazingly there was no one else around the lower level of the house. Delancre grinned and moved forward, taking hold of Amanda’s hand.
“Amanda, my sweet,” Delancre’s voice dripped familiarity. “Are you just now getting back? Where have you been?”
*Coming back from playing whore to that filthy necromancer no doubt,* Delancre thought. His smile was benign and charming, but he was taking great pleasure in the sight of the young woman before him. Her too tight clothing was rumpled and her hair tangled. She’d so obviously just come from the bed of her lover, and Delancre felt a smug superiority at the knowledge.
*Just look what all your high and mighty morality has brought you to,* he sneered inside. *You’re nothing more than a cheap, common slut, my dear. You had so much potential. You could have been one of the most powerful witches of your generation. If you’d only been able to subdue your weak, compassionate nature I could have taught you so much. Too late for that now.*
Delancre wasn’t listening as Amanda spoke of her dalliance. He was thinking of how good it was to see the witch knocked off her pedestal. He would have liked nothing more than to wrap his hands around her slender throat and personally feel her life ebbing out as she begged for mercy. He’d long ago grown tired of the nuisance that was Amanda Blaise. She’d been an obstacle for far too long now.
Of course, he still had to tread carefully with her. He needed her. She had to willingly pass along guardianship of the girl child, of Maia. Only when he had that powerful playing piece in his hand could he afford to indulge his need to hurt Amanda, to make her scream and beg, to break her. Until then, Delancre had to cultivate her friendship and trust. Only a little longer. He could do it. He was a patient man.
Noticing that Amanda was waiting for a response, Delancre made an affirming noise.
“Oh,” Daye sounded surprised. “You’re sure you wouldn’t mind? I told Marcus I wasn’t sure I could go, but if you are all right with it...”
Delancre had no idea what the girl was babbling about. *Go? Where is she going to go?*
“He wants to take you where, then?” Delancre tried to make it seem as if he was just clarifying.
Daye laughed. “Well, as I said, I’m not entirely sure where. He just wants to take me away for the weekend. I think the where is supposed to be a surprise.”
Nodding appropriately, Delancre stopped to consider all the angles of this development. The more time Amanda spent in the company of such a nefarious character, the more she strayed, the more corrupt she undoubtedly became. Not to mention the fact that this Dalton had a reputation in magical circles. His whole family were well known for their unique power, as well as for their questionable morality. Delancre could get along well with someone like that. He wouldn’t mind using Amanda as a means to yet another end. She could bring Dalton into his sphere of influence if she could develop a close enough relationship with the man.
The third consideration was the most obvious. The more time Amanda spent indulging herself, the less likely she was to develop any ideas or ambitions that might prove dangerous or cause difficulties with Delancre’s own plans. The obvious thing to do here was to encourage Amanda to continue seeing the necromancer.
“Isn’t that delightful,” Delancre replied, his voice indulgent and cheerful. “How wonderful it is for you to have found such a pleasant companion.”
Delancre forced his own thoughts away from his own companion. Surely Alessa had not sounded odd on the phone. Surely, he was overreacting to what was not in any way a real rejection of Stuart. “Of course you should go.”
Daye smiled. “I’m so glad you approve. I would hate to disappoint you. You’ve been so very good to me.”
Delancre nearly shouted in triumph. His careful pruning had finally borne fruit. Amanda trusted him again. “I only want what’s best for you, dear girl. Surely you know that. I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you.”
Delancre’s words held a world of meaning. For the first time, Daye considered the past in a different light. Perhaps what had happened between them before really hadn’t been the betrayal she’d always assumed. Look what Ryan had been like when he’d come to Los Angeles almost two years ago. Whatever excuses he might have made for his behavior, whatever reasons the demon had for his viciousness, maybe Lord Delancre had known all along what Ryan was capable of. If that was the case, then he had been acting in her best interests when he’d separated her from her lover. He might have only told her Ryan was killed in order to protect her from herself as well.
“I… think I’m beginning to understand,” Daye said softly.
“Good,” Delancre replied. He could feel her resistance wearing down with each conversation they had. Soon, very soon, he would convince her to send for Maia. “You should go and have fun, my sweet. You’ve been through so much pain… so much struggle. I hate to see it. You carry such enormous burdens for such a young woman.”
Daye nodded. She did deserve to relax, to have a good time.
“I know you might not think it’s a good idea, but I’ve been thinking lately,” Delancre paused deliberately. He wanted Amanda to believe that he was hesitant. “I’ve been wondering if perhaps it isn’t time for you to send for your… your daughter.”
His words were completely unexpected. Why would she want to do that? Maia was nothing but a downer, interfering with her fun, ruining her life.
“Whyever for?” Daye asked incredulously. “I don’t want to be saddled with that brat again. She’s perfectly safe where she is, and good riddance, I say.”
Delancre smothered a smile. *Too perfect,* he thought. “But, of course, she is important, Amanda,” his tone held mild reproof. “Obviously, I know how much of a burden she is to you, but you must realize she’s far too important to leave in the hands of just anyone.”
Daye considered his words carefully. She didn’t really care what happened to Maia, but she knew the prophecy was important, that Lord Delancre in particular had always put much stock in it. “Ok, I can see that, I suppose,” she admitted reluctantly. “But, what am I supposed to do about it? I don’t want to be responsible for the kid any more.”
This was too good to be believed. She was playing right into his hands. “I understand that, dear. I know how tiring this must all be for you. I don’t wish to see you overly burdened, of course, I don’t. You deserve to relax, to enjoy yourself. You should go with your friend this weekend… but when you get back, then you should consider the issue of your daughter. We can’t afford for her to fall into the wrong hands.”
Delancre paused. “We are all here to help you. You mustn’t feel as if you have to carry this burden alone any longer. I’m sure the stress of doing so contributed to your unfortunate breakdown. I, of all people, don’t ever wish to see you suffer in that way again. I will be happy to help you. I want to help you.
“Go and bring the girl here, my dear Amanda. Bring me Maia. She is important, that's true, but not more important than your safety or sanity. You've borne the burdens of that prophecy for far too long. Bring Maia to me, and I will help you carry your burden,” Delancre urged finally. He waited patiently to see if he had played this just right.
Daye smiled brilliantly. “I can see the wisdom of your words. I’d like to think about it just a bit first, but I definitely will consider your advice, Ambrose.”
*Damn her,* Delancre thought fiercely. *How long must she play the primadonna? How long must I endure her ridiculous behavior?*
“Very well,” Delancre said. “I can ask for no more. Just keep in mind that it is your welfare that takes precedence with me, dear Amanda.”
Daye nodded, and then took her leave of Ambrose Delancre. She wanted to get to her room and into bed, alone for a change. She had a big weekend ahead and needed to be well rested.
ryan visits a different daye
*** Thursday, May 10, 2007, 10 pm ***
*** Daye’s room at the Watchers’ mansion ***
Daye closed the door behind her and stood for a moment in the foyer of her suite. She sighed in contentment and ran a hand through the heavy weight of her tangled hair. After coming in from another wonderful assignation with Marcus and having such a revealing and rewarding talk with Lord Delancre, she was more than ready for a good night’s sleep. She was feeling very good, very satisfied and very tired. Stifling a yawn, she moved across the dark outer room and into her bedroom, kicking off her shoes and starting to remove her clothing. She had stripped off her sheer blouse and was working on the zipper of her skirt when she noticed that someone was waiting for her in the chair by the bed.
“Well, hello there,” Daye purred, surprised but excited by the sight that greeted her in the shadows. Ryan sat stiffly erect in the small chair, a shaft of moonlight spilling across his body while his face remained shadowed. In the dim light, Daye could almost imagine that the horrible scars she’d seen on the practice field didn’t exist. The idea warmed her blood. “I didn’t expect to ever find you waiting for me in my bedroom.”
Daye’s mouth quirked in a wicked smile. “Not that I mind really. I was going to just curl up and go to sleep, but if you’ve got a more amusing plan in mind, I could be persuaded to go along with it.”
True, she was off early tomorrow morning, but Daye’s overactive libido wouldn’t allow her to just turn away a pleasurable partner out of hand. She knew just how good Ryan could be from past experience.
Nightwalker was confused and concerned with Daye’s attitude. He hadn’t been close to her since the day she had been brought into the compound. He had seen her around the place a few times. She was looking healthier, although it made him nervous that Daye seemed to go everywhere shadowed by one of Delancre’s mages. Still, she was smiling and there was color in her face again. It was a vast improvement over the way she’d looked when he’d been in this room last.
Daye sauntered over to where Ryan sat, her smile decidedly wicked. She had already taken off her top, and so she stood just out of his reach, dressed only in the tiny black leather skirt she’d worn to see Marcus. It had had the desired effect on the man. She wondered if it would work as well on the demon.
Daye bent forward, her ample breasts barely contained in the tiny black lace bra she still wore. “So, Ryan, why are you hiding in my room in the dark?” she asked, running one finger down the man’s exposed chest.
Nightwalker was dismayed. He’d heard rumors about Daye spreading herself around the compound, bedding down with demon and man alike. He’d ignored the stories shared around the dining table in the army barracks or whispered in the hallways, but apparently they’d been all too true.
“What have they done to you?” Nightwalker asked sadly. “Is this how you’re expected to repay Delancre for his help? Has the tin king made you into his court whore? Whatever he’s said or done, Daye, you don’t have to do this.”
Daye rolled her eyes at the demon’s words. Obviously he hadn’t come to play. “I’m no one’s whore,” she replied. “I do what I want with whomever I want. I could be persuaded to include you in that list of whomevers… if you drop the sanctimonious act.”
Daye moved boldly forward, until she was standing over Ryan in the chair. She sneered down at him. “I seem to remember you were a lot more fun the last time you were in town, Love. I guess dying didn’t agree with you.”
Daye was so close that her nearly naked body was pinning him to the chair. Nightwalker fought to control the simmering anger her callous disregard created within him. Something was obviously not right here, and though he didn’t know what it was now, he wasn’t about to do anything rash.
“On the contrary, dying has opened my eyes to a lot of things,” he said. He stood abruptly, pushing Daye out of the way and putting a decent amount of distance between them. It was funny. He had endured years of torture and lies from Delancre, but somehow this was worse. The man had perverted Amanda in some way. Nightwalker couldn’t stand it. His memories, his true memories were of a treasured woman, the one and only person he had ever loved; the one person who had been capable of loving him back.
“I just wanted the chance to tell you that when I was here in L.A. before, I was wrong about you. I was misled by someone, and the crimes I laid at your feet were not your doing. I’m sorry for the pain I caused you two years ago. That’s all I came to say tonight.”
Daye wrinkled her nose in disgust. Tash had been right on about him the other night. This man was no fierce warrior. He’d become a melancholy fool. As if she cared about his apology. The only thing she could think of that he needed to apologize for was saddling her with the brat, but that was soon to be someone else’s problem entirely.
“Well, you’ve said it,” Daye snapped. “If you’re not interested in anything else, then you should just go. I have better things to do than listen to you unload.”
Nightwalker sighed. He shrugged and turned to leave the room, deep in thought. It was time, now that his eyes were open, that he start to actually see what was going on around here. Maybe then he could find some way to undo some of the damage Delancre had done to him and to this woman he loved. If there was any way then he’d damn well have to find it, because whatever was going on with Daye, he had a feeling it would only get worse as time went on. He had to do something before she was lost forever in the cold hearted woman he’d just met.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** Friday, May 11th 2007 - 4:45pm***
Oz jogged back up the stairs to his apartment gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm. He had just finished burying his sword under the pool filters in the back yard in preparation for the police arriving. He knew they would come for him - Ellis would see to that.
Oz picked up the phone and dialed Alessa's number again. He had tried a number of times to reach her but she was either in a bad reception area or not answering her phone. He could not wait to talk to her in person any longer so he left a short but emphatic message.
"Alessa, this is Oz. Ellis has gone completely insane and tried to kill Cole. He and I ended up fighting and I had to stab him. Not fatally, but he will need to get some medical attention soon, he was bleeding pretty badly. I sent Cole to General Hospital in an ambulance for broken ribs and possibly some internal bleeding. I've been shot.
"Ellis was driving off in his car the last time I saw him and I am certain he has called the police. I will surrender to them quietly. I will have my lawyer call you as soon as I can get in touch with him. I may need to get an advance on my pay.
"Don't let the police search the manor. There are things in the house you might not want them to find: Cole's things, Kyle's things, Ernie's or Chance's things - weapons and magical artifacts are hard to explain. But if they want to search the grounds, my apartment or the outbuildings, they should be clear to do so.
"Don't worry, this is a bit of bad-"
The recording ended. Oz hung up the phone and went to the bathroom where he loosened the bandage he had packed into the bullet wound in his shoulder. He examined the hole. It was straight through the meat and it oozed blood so dark it was almost black. Oz got it cleaned and re-bandaged before there was a knock on the door.
"Mr. DeAngelo, this is the Santa Monica Police Department. We are coming inside. If you want to make this smooth for us you will already be on the floor with your hands behind your head."
Oz was only to his knees when flak-vested cops with weapons drawn flooded through his door and pushed him down.
Less than an hour later in the hospital, the doctor who examined him was marveling at the x-rays. "Mr. DeAngelo, in twenty years of practicing medicine in L.A., this has to be the luckiest bullet wound I think I've ever seen."
The doctor pointed to the silver and black images. "Here, there are no marks on the bone and no channels cut in the scapula from deflecting a slug. Over here there is no evidence of joint displacement from a shockwave and no major trauma to any of the tendons, ligaments or muscles. In all, I'd say that if you absolutely had to get shot, that this is how you would want to do it."
The policeman standing guard with Oz whistled appreciatively, "You got some guardian angel there, dude."
Oz laughed as the doctor signed his release back to the cops.
Outside they were leading him back to the squad car when a dark blue sedan pulled up and a man jumped out waving a badge. James Anderson. He was speaking very rapidly.
"Thank you officers for holding the suspect - I will take this from here, if you don't mind. This man is under arrest for the violation of the conditions of his release and he is under arrest for crimes he committed in Los Angeles County on the night of December 24th."
The two uniformed police listened respectfully but when Anderson reached for Oz's handcuffed hands they pulled Oz back. "Hold on there, Detective. This man is under arrest in Santa Monica under suspicion of crimes committed in Santa Monica. If you want custody you will have to speak to the D.A."
"Listen here, dickhead, this is Oz DeAngelo. The mass murderer. The freaking Christmas Angel of Death! Don't you read the fucking newspapers? He's dangerous and needs to be taken in." James Anderson's eyes grew wild with mania and spittle flew from his lips as he shouted louder and louder.
The cops, while guarded, were unmoved by the tirade. "Detective Anderson, I suggest you step back for your own safety and that of the prisoner."
James lunged forward and grabbed at Oz's hands. His other hand reached for his weapon. In seconds, Oz was lying on his back with one policeman glancing backwards at him.
"You okay?" the cop asked politely and accepted Oz's surprised nod as confirmation.
The other policeman had pulled a nightstick and had wrapped it under James' arm and used it to force the detective to his knees. He said clearly and plainly, "This prisoner is in our custody, Detective. I regret having to use force, but it is necessary. If you insist on this action I will have you arrested for impairing an officer in the performance of his duty. Is that understood?"
Anderson took a long time to answer, but sputtered an expletive-filled affirmation before being released. Several other policemen were running to the scene by then, however, and Anderson skulked away.
He sat back in his car and picked up his radio to call when he realized there was someone in the back seat. He turned around and laid eyes on a sharply-dressed man in the back seat. The man lifted a leather clad fold-over and displayed his badge for Anderson.
He spoke in a British accent, "James Anderson, my name is Zynglebert Bingleback… Okay, it's actually Jerry Dorsey. I'm with the District Attorney's office in Santa Monica. This man you so obviously want to detain is in our custody and rest assured that nothing in Heaven or on Earth will allow him to go free without being cleared by the highest authority. But I have to ask you, James. May I call you James? I have to ask you James… what if I told you that I could prove that Oz 'did it'?"
The words 'did it' were emphasized with air quotes. James didn't need them. He knew what Jerry Dorsey meant. James Anderson lowered his voice and whispered, "Did he do it?"
Three minutes later, James wasn't sure. Jerry Dorsey had gone through a series of confirmations and denials of facts as James speculated, that now even James Anderson's faith that Oz had killed all those people was shaken.
"Mr. Anderson, I've enjoyed spending this quality time together, and I hope that it has clarified things for you," Dorsey said as he stepped out of the back of the car. "I hope that you will call me at the D.A.'s office tomorrow to discuss any options for release into your custody that may remain."
James shook hands through the window numbly, his head spinning with the conversation he had just had. Dorsey started to turn but Anderson jumped out of the car and ran to him. "You said you had proof," James said to him sharply.
Dorsey smiled, "I do. But what is it worth to you?"
James Anderson considered, "Anything. I have been a cop for too long. I have solved countless crimes and I have been involved in saving thousands of lives. Christmas Eve, that man stole all of those years of service from me. He killed them all and then blamed it on me. He blamed the loss of their lives on the fact that I didn't die."
Dorsey's face softened, "James," he said placing a comradely hand on his shoulder, "Your life was never exchanged for theirs. Their lives were never exchanged for yours. In the final tally their lives, your life and Oz DeAngelo's life are all legal tender for a higher moral battle. The balance lies not in who should or should not die, but in who will live. If someone lives, what will they do with their life?"
James Anderson had a moment of insight. It was similar to the moment he had had the night of Christmas Eve. It all made sense. There was a plan - a purpose. He knew his course as clearly as if he were standing on a paved trail. "I have given my life to serve His will," James said. "God has made me his servant and I am the instrument of his vengeance."
Dorsey patted James' shoulder, "That’s a good lad. Here's your proof. It still needs to be followed up on, but it should get you started." The manila envelope felt hot to James' fingertips as he walked back to the car wondering where he had seen Jerry Dorsey before.
Oz's trip to lockup was very comfortable in the back of the Cadillac Escalade. The cops who had defended him from James Anderson were polite and brushed him off carefully before helping him into the car and fastening his seatbelt for him.
In the Santa Monica Police Department, people were businesslike and efficient. Oz marveled at the contrast in the way he had been handled in the LA County system. He called his lawyer and was allowed to begin to write his statement. He requested a lawyer present for questioning and pressure ceased to have him speak.
Once his lawyer heard what had happened, he assured Oz that self defense was not a violation of his release, and that if all went smoothly he could expect to be out by Monday.
Oz shrugged. Another few days in a county jail was nothing to fear; he had done months in the state prison. But county meant Anderson would have access to him. Oz remembered the look on the man's face; the desperate loathing and pure malice in his eyes. "James Anderson is planning something. You will have to find a way to keep him away from me."
The lawyer smiled. "I can do that. I didn't work for Wolfram and Hart all those years and not learn a trick or two."
"Wolfram and who?" Oz asked.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** May 11th, 2007 - 11:25pm ***
Los Angeles County Police Department
James spread the papers across his desk and read the names out loud again. "Fred Hargrave, Bob Freytag, Donald Chaucer, Wallace Trimbull."
All four names and all four pictures were clearly Ozimandius DeAngelo. For the last thirty years this man had been changing identity every five to ten years. He would be that person for a while until he either was uncovered as a fraud or he had racked up too much debt. It was his last identity that was both the shortest and the most telling.
Fred Hargrave, husband of Margaret Hargrave and father of Frank Hargrave. Frank Hargrave who had been found dead at the Lilies of the Fields United Methodist Church on Christmas Eve 2006.
Fred Hargrave had to be nearly 65 when Oz took over his identity. He had likely come in as a boarder after Fred lost his wife in 2005. He eliminated the old man, took his identity, his car, his money and then created this Oz person.
Yes, it all fitted cleanly. All it required was some legwork to provide the evidence. Simple enough to do. James spread the pictures and files out one more time and read the names, "Fred Hargrave, Bob Freytag, Donald Chaucer, Wallace Trumbull."
A voice behind him made him jump. "What are you doing here so late, Jimmy?"
It was Rachel Grey. James really didn't like her much aside from the fact from that she seemed to be a slipshod cop. A lot of cases seemed to disappear once she took them over. "Not much, Rachel, just got some evidence in the DeAngelo thing."
"The Chief told you to drop that case, didn't he?"
"If I do the work and pass along the evidence, he can't stop me." James was not liking where this was going.
Rachel walked over and pulled up a chair. She plunked down in it and looked at the papers on Anderson's desk. "Obsession is something that makes you a good cop, Anderson. But don't obsess about the wrong thing. Remember what happened to Kate Lockley. You don't want to end up like her."
Kate Lockley had become the poster-girl among the LAPD for not sticking your nose into places it does not belong. For months she had taken every weirdo, drug-hyped cult slaying investigation. Then it crept out of the sewers and killed her father. So she started hunting these freaks swearing that vampires and demons were living in LA.
That was soon followed by early retirement on a psych discharge. She had been there at Wolfram and Hart the night the place had burned. She swore it was justice. Half the cops on the force had tried to prove she had done it. Now she was living in San Francisco working for some group of private investigators.
Only her 'protégé' Derek Park was still on the force working down in the coroner's office and loonier than a clown on laughing gas. He had never been right since his coma. James considered the consequences of what he was doing. His life would change - had changed. *Mind your own business, bitch,* he thought.
"Don't worry, Rachel, I'm not going to go that far. In fact I think I'll go home."
He slipped all the papers into a folder and hurried to get his coat. He muttered under his breath, "Fred Hargrave, Bob Freytag, Donald…"
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***May 10th 2006 – Jeet’s apartment***
Everything seemed so quiet since Jeet had returned from England. Without Toni and Evie the apartment seemed so empty and with all that was going on Jeet would have been grateful for some company. He’d had a great time in England; he and Evie had become very close, so much so that on his last night there they had spent the night together. They had spent days talking, learning each other’s quirks and qualms; Evie had said it was like revising for an exam. She had approached the subject of Toni on several occasions but Jeet had shied away from the topic. He thought how happily he would talk about it now if only to have her here with him. He had enjoyed meeting her family, they seemed to like him, but then they did see him as the ‘man who brought their daughter home’.
Jeet knew she would be back in America soon enough but he really missed her. It felt more lonely now than he had when he first arrived in LA; the people closest to him were now so far away, Toni was… Toni was gone and Evie was thousands of miles away. *She’s got a lot of catching up to do with her family, she’ll be back soon,* he sighed to himself as he looked out of the window. It must have been a hot day out because he noticed everyone seemed to be wearing their shorts today. He smiled as he remembered the British weather, only a couple of days ago he was getting soaked through and freezing cold.
Jeet looked at his watch; he had an appointment with Toni’s solicitor soon. He had found a letter from the solicitor’s secretary as he trawled through the junk mail that had built up during his absence. After phoning her yesterday she was most insistent he came in today. Jeet stared at the letter. *I wonder what they want?* he pondered for a moment. He didn’t like anything that reminded him of Toni, he wasn’t ready to remember, not yet anyway.
*****
The cab pulled up outside the shimmering building.
“That’s $15, buddy.” The cabbie held out his hand over his shoulder. “Want me to wait?”
“No thanks, I'm not sure how long I’ll be.”
Jeet looked up at the towering building then back at the driver. He wished he could just tell him to take him home, but he knew he had to get this over with. “Keep the change,” he sighed as he handed the driver a twenty.
As the taxi sped off Jeet stood on the edge of the pavement looking up at the building. He peered down at the letter then back up towards the sky. *Here goes.*
Jeet slowly started to climb the mountain of steps up towards the front door. He stopped and began reading the writing on the giant bronze plaque in front of the entrance, scanning with his finger until it came to rest on a line about half way down.
‘Howard, Barrett, Cutler and Davies. Attorneys at Law. 15th floor – 21st floor’
As Jeet entered the lobby, he stood staring at the people in suits that were busy hurrying across the marble floor. He grinned to himself, thinking how much they looked like ants rushing around a picnic table, not knowing which plate to attack first. He called for the lift and when it arrived he pressed 15.
The lift seemed to take an age to reach its destination. It finally jolted to standstill. “Floor fifteen,” came the voice through speakers as the doors slid open. Jeet stepped out into another open area but this time the floor was wooden, not marble. He could see all the offices surrounding him, all of the walls were sheer glass. In the middle of the floor there was a large desk manned by two women. It looked like an island sitting there, surrounded on all sides by the glass offices. Jeet approached the desk and waited for one of the women to finish on the phone.
“Good afternoon sir, how can I help you?” the younger of the two women said as she smiled courteously.
“My name is Jeet Su My, I have an appointment.” Jeet looked around nervously, he felt very uncomfortable in these surroundings, he felt like he was being watched on all sides.
“Ah yes, we’ve been expecting you.”
The woman picked up the phone and pressed one of the buttons. “Mr Jeet Su My has arrived, sir. Yes… I’ll send him straight through.”
The woman smiled as she replaced the receiver. “You can go straight through,” she gestured to a set of double doors behind her. The glass these on doors was frosted, unlike the others, and Jeet could only just make out the shape of a man moving around inside. He cautiously approached the door and gently knocked.
“Come in.”
Jeet opened the door and slowly entered the room; he was greeted by a man in a dark blue suit, though he looked more like a boy than a man. He had slicked back hair and there wasn’t a crease out of place on his suit. His shoes were so shiny the light bounced off them, and his tie was perfectly aligned with his shirt and jacket. Immediately Jeet didn’t trust him, there was something about this man - no, boy - that struck an uneven chord with Jeet. He couldn’t place what but he knew he didn’t wish to hang around longer than was necessary.
“Please take a seat.” The man gestured to a leather seat in front of his desk. “This shouldn’t take too long. I assume you know why you’re here?”
Jeet looked at the man, confused, “I have no idea, something to do with Toni?”
“Toni? Ah, Kenta Tonichiwa! Yes,” the man smiled in recognition, then lowered his head remorsefully. “We here at Howard, Barrett, Cutler and Davies were very sad to hear of his passing.”
Jeet nodded in recognition. “Thank you. I don’t wish to sound rude, but could you please tell me why I’m here?” Jeet was determined to get out of there as soon as possible. “I have another appointment, you see,” he lied.
“Yes of course.” The man seemed rather put aback by Jeet’s reaction. “It concerns ‘Toni’s’ estate.” His tone was much more businesslike now.
“His estate?” The confusion was evident on Jeet’s face.
“Yes, it appears a few weeks before his death Mr Tonichiwa contacted our offices and instructed us to change his will, making you his sole beneficiary in the event of his death.” The man eyed him suspiciously, unsure if Jeet’s ignorance to the situation was true. “You obviously made quite an impression on him.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Jeet twitched uncomfortably under the man’s gaze. “What estate?”
“Well, let’s see,” the man riffled through some papers, “There is the dojo, Mr Tonichiwa’s house, his boat, cars and… yes… here it is. $7.5 million in cash and bonds.” He watched for Jeet’s reaction.
“What?!” Jeet’s surprise was more than realistic enough to convince the man of his honesty; he had nearly fallen from his seat.
“Yes.” The man’s tone had returned to its more friendly nature now. “It appears Mr Tonichiwa made some rather shrewd investments over the years and that was the closing balance of his account.” He smiled at Jeet. “As he had no family it all goes to you.”
Jeet sat stunned, unsure what to say. Was this a joke? Words escaped him.
“I just need you to sign these forms,” the man slid a pen and a few documents across the desk, “then I can begin the transfer.”
Jeet browsed the papers before signing them and passing them back. “Is there anything else I need to do?” Jeet still seemed to be slightly dumbstruck.
“No, that’s everything.” The man shook Jeet’s hand. “I’ll be in touch when the transfer is finalised. Cheer up sir, you’re a millionaire.”
That last comment snapped Jeet back to life. “It’s not going to bring him back though, is it?”
Jeet saw the look on the man’s face change to that of apology and regret for what he had said. “I’m sorry, don’t mind me. Thank you for your time,” he said before the man had chance to speak again and with that he left the office as quickly as he could without actually breaking into a sprint.
*****
Jeet stood outside the dojo. Word had obviously spread about Toni’s death as there were dozens of bunches of flowers all around the entrance. He knelt down and picked up one of them up, taking in their sweet scent, which reminded him of Evie. He opened the door to the dojo and stared into the darkness before closing his eyes. He could smell Toni as clearly as a pot of fresh coffee in the morning. His mind flashed images before him: the first time they met, the times they trained together, laughter they shared... God, he missed him. He closed the doors, sat on the front steps and leant back against the front door.
Jeet sat in silence for more than an hour. It was rather a strange sight to see, a man in sitting between all those flowers. It looked as if adoring fans had thrown him tokens of appreciation to their favourite pop star or movie idol, but then he did something he hadn’t been able to do since Toni had died. Breaking down into tears, he let his anger go. Toni was gone but he would always be a big part of Jeet’s life. He wanted to remember Toni, not push him away. He hadn’t been able to mourn for Toni since his death but now he could, now he could move on.
*Thank you, Toni. Thank you for everything.*
*****
It was after midnight before Jeet got back to Poplar. He meandered up the stairs; he must still have been on UK time as he wasn’t at all tired. Just before he reached his door he heard a familiar voice.
“You could have left me a key.”
Jeet’s head spun around wildly shortly followed by his body. “Evie!” He embraced the woman and spun her round. “I’m so glad you’re here.” Then for the second time that night Jeet cried.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Friday 11th
6:55 pm
LA Community Hospital
Alessa watched Ellis worriedly. He was unconscious and had been like that since he had been brought to hospital. The doctor said it wasn’t a coma, and they were optimistic about his condition. Fortunately his fine car's airbag had avoided head contusion, but the car had also turned a couple of times and Ellis had ended with a broken arm, three fractured ribs and several scratches and cuts. No internal wounds though. All in all he'd been lucky as hell.
Alessa looked around and shuddered. Ellis was in the same hospital in which his father had died; she couldn't help the lump in her throat at the thought of her dear friend. His son had been lucky indeed.
Actually, doctors were more worried about the infection that was rampaging through his system than broken bones and marred flesh. Alessa chuckled, if only they knew.
The demoness took his hand gently, careful not to bother the pulse monitor in his finger. His strong hand was cold and felt so strange in hers. She used the time alone with him to study his face. With his swollen nose, dark stubble and messed hair, he'd look like a lightweight boxer after a particularly difficult match, if it weren’t for his paleness. She looked again at the swelling that was still noticeable in his nose and bit her lip guiltily, remembering the truck wreck.
"You haven’t been lucky with cars lately, huh?" she asked softly and caressed his cheek, taking pleasure in the feeling of the soft stubble as she always had on mornings… She smiled. Her feelings for Ellis were confusing to say the least, but she had never wished him harm, and she was deeply ashamed of her part in this tragedy.
"He hasn’t been lucky. Period," sounded a man's voice behind her and Alessa armed herself before turning to watch the black man.
"Hello, Mike," she said, smiling weakly. "Thank you for calling me. I can't believe this happened."
Mike humphed and walked towards the lying man, his eyes moving towards the bedside monitors and then to his friend. Satisfied that everything looked ok, he looked at the demoness. Mike never spoke much, but his look told her all she needed to know. The man blamed her for his friend's fate. Oz was her employee after all, and it was she who had systematically refused to fire the man. However, Alessa really couldn’t believe that that Oz would attack Ellis just like that… it didn’t make sense. But until she managed to talk to Oz she wouldn’t know what had really happened, and at the moment the man seemed to be virtually isolated; she hadn’t been able to speak to his lawyer either.
She had rushed to the hospital as soon as she got Mike’s phone call, cursing all the way there. With Ellis acting as he had lately it was much more plausible that he had started the whole thing. Ellis’ virus made him a liability.
Alessa lowered her eyes. Things wouldn’t get better when Mike learnt that she'd probably be the one who brought the virus to LA in the first place, which reminded her she had to tell him all about the 'mana' thing.
She took another glance to Ellis and then looked back at Mike. "Ellis seems stable now, Mike, and there are some important things I have to tell you. Would you mind if we go to the cafeteria and talk?"
"I need to talk to you too, Alessa," the man answered and gestured her to the door, following closely after her when she walked out.
Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in the cafeteria, steaming mugs in front of them. Mike just held his coffee and leaned back, waiting for her to speak. Alessa sighed; he wasn’t making it any easier. Slowly she started telling him what she had learnt about the limbic virus the previous day, telling him what mana was and how Kate and Nik had pinpointed the knowledge that the virus fed on it. Emboldened by his intelligent and accurate questions, she also told him their hypothesis about the virus' origin too.
"So it seems I'm related to Ellis' bad luck more than you thought," she finally said, avoiding his gaze. "It seems it's all my fault…"
She was surprised when the older man leaned forward over the table to give her hand a quick squeeze. "You aren’t to blame, Alessa, even if you were the one to bring the virus to LA… I mean, you were a victim too." He smiled at her, and she was surprised by the soft glow in his eyes, "I'm sorry if I sounded condemning earlier, but with this virus going around… well, none of you are being your usual selves."
"Yeah, well, sometimes I feel strong enough to fight it and find myself acting almost normal… and then something happens and I find myself doing things that I wouldn’t have thought of doing not so long ago."
Mike sighed, knowingly. "At least you're still noticing it."
"I beg your pardon?" Alessa asked, intrigued.
"You can still tell when you aren’t acting 'normal'. Now Ellis… he can't any more. He's acting like a lunatic and he's not giving it a second thought." He looked away, gripping strongly his coffee mug. "I don’t know what to do, Alessa. I'm thinking about telling the doctors about the infection… and having him sedated for a while, at least until we find a cure or something."
Alessa looked at him, dumbfounded. She could understand Mike's concern, but sedate him? "Are you sure? I mean-"
"I'm not sure what happened today, Alessa. But from what little I learnt from the police your gardener was shot too, so what Ellis said wasn’t true, or at least it wasn’t the entire truth. I haven’t been able to go to the Santa Monica department yet; I want to talk to the man’s lawyer." Mike ran a hand over his shortly cropped grayish hair. "What if he kills somebody next time?" he asked, defeated.
Alessa nodded, she could see Mike's point, and an icy terror gripped her. Would they all end up sedated and in a nuthouse? She shook her head. *We'll find the cure before that happens,* she said to herself without much confidence, and forced herself to focus on the problem at hand. If Oz had been wounded then there was already an incongruence with Ellis' story.
"But then why is Oz still in jail?" Alessa asked. Now that made much more sense, if they had fought and things had gotten out of hand… Ellis had come to the point of pulling a gun on her, what would he do to a man he so irrationally hated? She cursed again at her inability to talk to either Oz or his lawyer.
"Well, at the moment it's Ellis Longwood's word against Ozimandius DeAngelo's. Who do you think they'd believe?" Mike raised an eyebrow; they both knew the answer to that question. "I'm waiting till he regains consciousness to talk some sense into him, but I don’t know. He wasn’t sounding rational on the phone earlier."
Mike kept silent for a few minutes. "Could it be possible that your gardener is infected too, Alessa?" he asked suddenly, startling her.
Alessa thought about Oz's former nature; could he have some mana too? "It's possible," she answered, not venturing to say anything else and suddenly afraid again. If Oz was infected then everything would be even more complicated. "But we'd need to test him to be sure."
Mike nodded, "I'll talk to the company lawyers to arrange a scanning. If your employee is clean it'll help his case some," he smiled tightly, "at least in my eyes."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 12th May 2007
6:15pm
Guest Starring Colin Firth as Stuart Montrose
Stuart/Ambrose straightened his cravat and smoothed down the tails of his coat. He’d rung Alessa earlier in the afternoon to confirm their date for that night, and to tell her to dress in evening wear. He’d not been more specific than that and she’d sounded curious about his plans for the evening.
He was relieved. When he’d rung her on Thursday night, after Tash had mentioned the rumours that he himself had been passing on to Alessa in the guise of Stuart Montrose, Alessa had sounded a little strange. She had fobbed him off that night with some excuse about her cousin, and Delancre had now waited two long, frustrating days to reward her properly for playing her – albeit unwitting – part in muddying the waters. But tonight she’d sounded more like her usual self and he determined to use Stuart’s compassionate nature to discover what the problem may have been.
Composing his features into the softer look of Stuart, Delancre pressed the doorbell to Alessa’s house, prepared to gush enthusiastically over her stunning appearance.
*Well, this is it,* Alessa said to herself before opening the door. She’d had enough time to prepare herself for this, and she was ready. Planting a big smile on her face, she opened the door to see Stuart on the other side. Her smile widened when she saw him. Whoever he really was, there was no doubt that he cut a dashing figure. Stuart was wearing a tux; she hadn’t been quite fond of tuxedos earlier, but this sight made her change her mind. The teal of his cravat leant a grey hint to his blue eyes and the faja highlighted his narrow hips.
She blushed and lowered her eyes, ashamed of the rush of desire that he still made her feel. She must be turning whore indeed, as Ellis had said. Strengthening her resolve, Alessa raised her eyes again, letting him see the heat in her eyes. If she was going to do this, she better do it well, nurture the desire. It wouldn’t hurt if she did, would it?
Stuart’s smile broadened in response to Alessa’s look, his eyes matching the fire he found in hers. He let his gaze drop from the stylish, short bob to the earrings that glinted from her now-exposed ears, to the plunging neckline of her striking white gown. Lines of crystals sewn into the fabric caught the light, and Stuart moved forward to enfold her gently in his arms as he placed a hello kiss on her soft lips.
“You look more fabulous every time I see you, my darling. And your hair!” He let his fingertips play with the short ends of her hair at the nape of her neck and smiled at the shiver she gave in response to his touch. “When did you cut it?”
Alessa laughed and touched her hair. “I didn’t. I just shortened it,” she answered, delighted in spite of herself at his approval. This wasn’t going as she had expected.
“You look very elegant yourself,” she added to cover her amazement at herself. “Where is this mysterious place you are taking me, Stuart?” she asked, as she took the little purse and white matching shawl and closed the door behind her.
His smile was cheeky. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise any longer, would it?”
“Indeed.” She smiled, moving towards his sleek Aston Martin, and paused at the passenger door for him to open it. At least now she had an explanation for the source of his income and the extent of his influence. She slid onto the smooth leather seat and relished in the feeling. Looking up to him, she grinned. “I could get used to this.”
Walking around the car and settling into the driver’s seat, Stuart said with mock hurt, “Oh, I see. You’re only after me for my money. And here I was thinking it was my charm, my good looks…” A glint came into his eye as he let his fingertips brush lightly across the tops of Alessa’s thighs. “My… talents.”
Alessa caught his hand in hers, and turning it, she took it to her lips. She pressed a small kiss on the back and didn’t move when she spoke, her warm breath only millimetres from his skin. “There’s only one of you, Stuart, it’s all that that I want.”
Inwardly, Delancre chuckled. *Oh, if only you knew, Miss Verbati. if only you knew.* Outwardly, Stuart’s face showed nothing but devotion and desire. The desire, at least, wasn’t faked.
“Oh, Alessa,” he began, then stopped as his breath caught in his throat. “You have no idea what it does to me to hear those words from your lips. You are all I’ve ever wanted – somehow I knew you were here waiting for me, before I ever met you. You are the most exquisite creature on this Earth, my love.”
Sealing his declaration with a softly passionate kiss, Stuart reluctantly pulled back after several long moments. He observed Alessa’s flushed cheeks and smiled at her in adoration. “I promise,” he whispered huskily, “that tonight shall be a night you will never forget. But,” he added sadly, “that must wait. If we don’t leave now we shall be late.”
She welcomed the few seconds it took for him to get the car started and leave, his eyes fixed on the gravel pathway, to compose herself. She had never thought she’d react this way to his touch still; she felt giddy and shaky as if she didn’t know the real identity of the charming man at her side. She fingered the jewelled watch she was wearing. She had spent a while sewing Kate’s coarse charm to the inside of it, there wasn’t a way to conceal it otherwise, not in this gown. *I shouldn’t have worried,* she thought, grimacing. The desire she felt was all too real. *I’m a whore, indeed.* She quickly released her watch when ‘Stuart’ turned to her and smiled.
“I’m eager to know what you’ve prepared for me.” She leant forward in the car, kissing him lightly on the cheek. “I have some surprises of my own for you today, mind you.”
“Delightful,” Stuart gushed. “I love surprises.”
Delancre hated surprises. He maintained Stuart’s besotted grin as he drove Alessa to their destination and wondered what the demoness had planned for the night. Still, given her feelings for ‘Stuart’ he could only hope it meant some exotic new bedroom fantasy. Letting his imagination roam, he found himself having to shift uncomfortably in his seat as his ardour grew.
“Almost there,” he remarked needlessly as he turned the car into the parking lot of a local airport. He smiled with amusement at Alessa’s expression. It was a mixture of puzzlement, wonder and anticipation.
“What is this, Stuart?” she asked, turning to him. Somehow the sight of the planes had given her the creeps but she’d controlled herself, and after the first shock went away she couldn’t help but be excited. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere at all.”
He laughed delightedly at her confusion, and explained. “The sun will be setting in about an hour and a half. We’re going to embark on an aeroplane, have a drink or two and some hors d’oeuvres and then be flown around this city while we have dinner and watch a magnificent sunset from the air.”
Alessa’s face broke into a big smile. “Increible,” she said, “An evening just for ourselves. You have the most delightful ideas, querido.”
Having parked the car, Stuart alighted and moved around swiftly to open the door for Alessa. Bowing over her hand as he helped her from the vehicle, he murmured, “Nothing but the best for you, my dear.”
He gestured to a small, nearby aircraft. “I believe our pilots – and our champagne – await us.”
“I love champagne, and I’ll love this evening, I’m sure,” Alessa said as she proceeded to walk towards the plane, guided by Stuart’s strong hand on her hip.
The plane had sleek lines and a smooth silver surface, with the name of a private chartering line painted on the side. Alessa smiled at the stewardess that awaited them by it and climbed up the steps. The moment she entered it she was surprised by the size of the plane inside; it had looked small on the runway, but the company had taken out most of the seats, leaving a spacious, comfortable interior with luxurious leather seats and a large plump couch following an entire side. A row of windows gave panoramic visibility from every seat, and the soft rug and acoustical material of the structure drowned out most of the exterior sounds.
Alessa walked to the couch next to the windows and looked out, overjoyed. “This is beautiful, Stuart. What a beautiful surprise!”
He handed her a glass of champagne and held up his own, so the two clinked together gently with a resonant ‘ting’. “To us,” he toasted, “And to many glorious days and nights together.”
“To us,” she answered, and raised her eyes to his as she took the cup to her lips. Again Alessa tried to compare him to the Delancre she had met the other day. He was a completely different man, yet the teal blue depths of his eyes spoke real hunger.
The jewelled watch slid down her arm a few inches and she reminded herself of her purpose at being there. “To a glorious future together.” She tasted a sip of the sparkling wine and added, “Stuart.”
Sipping at his champagne to cover his expression, Delancre wondered briefly at the odd emphasis Alessa had used for his name. Deciding that Stuart would ignore it completely, he withdrew the glass from his lips and swallowed the mouthful of bubbly liquid he’d taken then smiled at his lover with doe-like eyes.
He leant forward and kissed her tenderly, his free hand cupping the side of her face in a soft caress. The answering surge of desire he felt from her was certainly genuine enough, and he put the aberration down to his growing paranoia. With Amanda now in his control his plans were drawing ever closer to fruition, and timing was everything. Soon it would be time to clip Alessa’s wings – whilst maintaining the illusion of freedom, naturally.
“Do you mean that, my darling? Could I possibly be so bold as to dream of a future together with you? You are…” he gazed at her adoringly for a moment, “the woman of my dreams, Alessa. Who would have believed I could fall in love so quickly? And yet… I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”
“I mean it.” The lie came through her lips with an ease that surprised her. Alessa smiled up to him again, and she raised her hand to run her fingers through his soft brown hair. “And yet, I know so little of you…”
She moved away from him and settled in the soft couch, leaning back she took a glance through the window, while the stewardess placed the hors d’oeuvres on the low table in front of her. It was still day and the plane hadn’t taken off yet, but the sky was already tinting with the soft colours of dusk.
They both kept silent while the stewardess moved around, their gazes flirting over the rims of the glasses. Alessa welcomed the time again, to think about her next move. She needed to tread carefully.
“I received the most interesting news the other day,” she said once the woman left for the cabin.
Spreading a bit of pâté onto a cracker and popping it into his mouth, Stuart raised an eyebrow at Alessa and waited until he’d finished chewing to say, “Oh? Does this have anything to do with the cousin you had to see – for whom you put off this wonderful night out?”
Alessa laughed, “You aren’t being jealous, are you?” she asked, amused. “No, it doesn’t have to do with Inés. And some things are worth waiting for, don’t you think?”
Not waiting for his answer she leant back on the couch and dangled her cup on two fingers. She looked into his eyes, and wetted her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me who you really were… Ambrose?”
Delancre stilled. For several seconds he neither moved nor showed any expression on his face whatsoever. But beneath that quiet façade his mind was awhirl. Not wasting any time on trying to analyse how she’d discovered him, he instead formulated a quick plan. He let his eyes crinkle in a smile that spread across his face like a sunrise. “Ah, I’ve been found out, I see.”
He sighed and grew serious. “I’m sorry for the deception, Alessa. But I knew your group was investigating the Council and I had the feeling that if I approached you as Ambrose Delancre, the First Elder of the Watchers’ Council, with the information I’d discovered, that you would not believe me. Trust me, Alessa, what I showed you is genuine and,” his expression turned into a sad puppy-dog face, “and what I feel for you is equally genuine.”
He hung his head. “I’m not proud of having tried to deceive you, but I felt if I pretended to be someone who had dug up this information on the sly that you would take greater stock in it. I never,” he looked up, his eyes deep pools of longing and regret, “I never imagined that I would feel this way about you. But having started down this path I could find no way to stop it. I… I’m sorry you had to find out yourself. I was weak, I should have told you. Please… forgive a poor fool?”
Alessa smiled. This was exactly what she knew he’d say, it was exactly what he’d say if he were being truthful… but he wasn’t, he couldn’t be. Not about his motives, at least… his feelings? She couldn’t know, but he desired her, and that gave her a little amount of power over him, if she didn’t let her own lust rule her in turn.
“Of course I do,” she said softly and moved towards him, sitting on his lap and tangling her arms behind his nape. In this position she was level with his eyes. She smiled and kissed him lightly. “I understand your reasons. I wasn’t very happy with what you’ve shown me; no wonder you felt you needed to introduce yourself in that way. I’m just glad the truth is in the open.”
Delancre smiled tentatively, almost shyly, and returned Alessa’s kiss. “Oh, you have no idea how relieved that makes me feel. I… as the First Elder I must play this awful role of hard taskmaster, but you… you’ve been able to see the real me.”
He let his gaze linger lovingly on her face, none of his true thoughts showing in the slightest. *So, I still must play a part – only the name has changed. Very well, Miss Clever-Britches Verbati, let’s see how well you can play your part tonight.* He didn’t for one second trust her apparent acceptance, but had to wonder why she would reveal her knowledge of his deception.
“So tell me, my sweet,” he let the shy smile stay in place, “how did you discover my loathsome fraud?”
“Well, I wasn’t completely honest with you either.” Alessa blushed and hid her face on his shoulder. She had rehearsed this part. ‘Stay to the truth as much as you can.’ Nikolai’s advice on some different matter applied perfectly well here.
“When you first contacted me I arranged a friend to investigate ‘Stuart Montrose’. Imagine my shock when I saw Stuart’s pictures… that’s the reason I didn’t want to see you on Thursday.”
She moved away a little to look at him, her face serious. “I didn’t know what to make of it, but with your description…” she blushed again. “Well, actually I was bluffing there, Ambrose, I wasn’t completely sure it was you.”
Delancre chuckled. “Well, that will teach me to use the name of somebody who already exists,” he said lightly.
*Cretins! What are they thinking up there? I told them specifically to give out just enough information about Stuart that would confirm my story. Heads will roll!* One of his followers in England had either been compromised or was merely negligent or stupid – in Delancre’s eyes the crimes were equally punishable.
Outwardly, no sign of his ire showed as he picked up Alessa’s hand and kissed it. “Thus it seems that both of us have been playing a little game. But I trust you’re not toying with my affections, my dear Alessa? I would hate to think you were merely trying to get close to me in order to discover whatever ‘unspeakable evils’ you think I’m involved in.”
He gently stroked her short hair, admiring the way it gleamed in the late evening light that shone through the windows. “You are too good and pure and perfect, my love. I cannot believe that the mere wish to see if any of those awful rumours were true would be sufficient to place you in the bed of a man you didn’t love. You’re not that sort of woman, Alessa. You’re a loving, kind and gentle soul; the sort of woman for whom I would lay down my life.”
Alessa bit her lip again and lowered her eyes, willing her cheeks to blush. He was canny, and he wasn’t as fooled as she thought he would. She coughed softly before speaking.
“I… I want to be honest with you St- Ambrose. I can call you Ambrose, verdad?” she asked, raising her eyes and giving him a small smile. ‘Stay close to the truth.’
“The thought did cross my mind… at first. I wanted to keep pretending I didn’t know who you were.” She jumped lithely from his lap and took a couple of steps away from him. She stood with her back towards him for a few seconds, then she turned around. “Then I realized that I couldn’t do it. I… I don’t know if I love you Ambrose, not yet.”
She lowered her eyes again, “Too much has happened these past months and I can’t really be sure of much.” She raised her eyes again, “But I care for you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. And I don’t think you are responsible for ‘unspeakable evils’, no more than Stuart was.”
It sounded to Delancre like exactly the sort of thing he’d say in such a situation as Alessa’s, and he had to consider her degree of sincerity. Even with all his considerable talents brought to bear on the demoness, he was receiving no indication that she spoke any falsehood whatsoever. But as he himself well knew, emotions and thoughts could be masked. Certainly Alessa herself wasn’t an accomplished enough mage to achieve such a masking, but there were those within the ‘White Hats’ who could.
But for now he was better off staying close to Alessa. That way he could better control what she saw and heard – and also put him in a better position to find out what she may learn from other sources. From what she’d told him so far, at the very least she’d used connections to the Watchers’ Council to slip past his own people and get to the truth of Stuart Montrose. For a moment he wondered if Alessa’s detectives had unearthed Stuart’s final fate – but then again, Montrose’s demise had been arranged a long way from home. It was possible that nobody in England yet knew quite what had happened to the man.
“Well then,” he smiled warmly at Alessa, “let us continue to enjoy our evening. At the very least, I promise a spectacular view of the sunset, and the city lights at night. After that…” He shrugged, playing the part of compassionate lover to the hilt, “Who knows? I hold out hope for a glorious night, but I will naturally accede to your wishes in that regard.”
Rising to stand before her, he looked at her with supplication in his eyes, “But actions speak louder than words, as they say. I would hope that my actions with you over the past few weeks have spoken volumes. Your actions,” he lifted her hand and held it to his lips as he continued in a whisper, “have most definitely spoken to my heart.”
“It’s your actions that led me to this point, Ambrose,” Alessa said, and never a greater truth had been spoken. Her fingers caressed his mouth and she felt him suck in his breath; she smiled in triumph. Her index finger drew a line down his upper lip, and she found herself caught up in the desire in his eyes. That much wasn’t faked; neither was the desire he must be seeing in her eyes. Her throat suddenly dry, she took his other hand and led it to her waist as she moved closer to him, enough that she could feel all the hard lines of his body across the soft fabric of her dress.
She tilted her head and spoke again, “What are my actions telling you now, querido?”
Growling low in his throat, Delancre swept his head down and engulfed Alessa in a passionate kiss. Although wary, he nevertheless abandoned himself to the embrace, but pulled back as Alessa began to undo the buttons on his crisp white shirt. He grabbed her hands and regarded her adoringly, watching the fires of lust burn in her eyes even as a querulous frown crossed her features.
“Hush, not so fast, my dear. We have all night. If all you were to me was a means of sexual release, then I would behave so callously as to throw you on the floor right here.” His breathing quickened slightly at the thought, but he continued with his masquerade of the considerate lover.
“Let us enjoy the evening, my love. The plane will be taking off soon and we can delight in good food, a magnificent view, and superlative company,” he said as he kissed her fingertips lightly. “Afterwards, we can explore each other with clear consciences, knowing there are no more boundaries between us.”
Alessa dropped her hands from his chest and blushed again. This time not faking it, as she hadn’t been pretending a minute ago, and even if it helped her plans she felt ashamed of herself.
“You are right. I forgot myself; somehow it seems I depend on your stronger will to behave.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled back on her embrace and she felt a momentarily surge of anger at it too. She ran shaking fingers through her hair and smiled up at him. “You seem to have an uncanny effect on me, Ambrose.”
The arrival of the stewardess with another plate of appetizers and more champagne stopped him from answering and she escaped his embrace quickly. She moved towards the couch and sat down again, crossing her legs, and breathing deeply to calm down. She smiled at him.
“Let’s enjoy the evening indeed, my Lord.” She smiled at his obvious pleasure on her usage of the gentility protocol. *Englishmen! They are so predictable… and so exciting…*
As the plane took off and swooped over the city of Los Angeles, both Alessa and Ambrose read snippets to each other from a guidebook that had been provided for those passengers who might be interested in the landmarks they were seeing. Dinner arrived with wine, and the pair ate, drank, laughed and oohed at the magnificent scenery unfolding below them. As the sun sank behind the sea it lit up the land in reds and golds, and then the lights began to come out one by one over the entire city.
When the plane finally landed again, Ambrose intertwined his fingers in Alessa’s and pulled her towards him for a long, lingering kiss. With her arms wrapped around him, he felt a perfect glow of satisfaction. He’d known, back in Colombia, that given a chance to appreciate him fully Alessa would succumb to his will. But on Colombia she’d had her perceptions coloured by her confinement, he could see that now. Approached as a free woman, she’d naturally fallen for his charm and magnetism. After all, what female wouldn’t, once he turned the full power of his personality on them? And soon enough, she would come to his mansion where he would ensure she would never wish to leave again.
A warm chuckle rose in the back of his throat. “You make me so happy,” he whispered into Alessa’s ear as they maintained their close embrace. Huskily, he added, “I have a room booked for tonight…”
“I was hoping we’d go home tonight, Ambrose… my home I mean.” She smiled sweetly, tangling her fingers with his. “We’ve never been there and I have this beautiful swimming pool…”
Ambrose let a grin slip slowly over his face. “Oh dear, and here I am without my swimming trunks. We’ll just have to go skinny-dipping.”
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, dear.” Alessa winked at him over her shoulder, she was already walking to the car.
She just wished that Oz would be home tonight, she felt reassured with him around; but yet, at the same time she didn’t want him to be there when she took Delancre to the big house. She grimaced again, remembering the call his lawyer had made that same evening and Oz’s words in the voice mail. She hated to think of him in jail another night, but she had been waiting for Delancre to arrive at the moment and she hadn’t wanted to cross the man. She'd go talk to Cole tomorrow.
Planting a smile on her face again she slid into the car and forced herself to forget everything about Oz and Cole and the virus, everything but this wolf in disguise. She needed her whole attention on him, or she’s make some silly mistake that'll be her doom. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and she laid her hand on his thigh and relaxed back on the plush seat. Delancre was an excellent driver and the car ran smoothly. She sighed, her hand moving to rest on his on the gear stick.
“This is good,” she said, breaking the silence. “I just hope we won’t have any problems.” She bit her lip, trying to sound worried. “I’m sure you are aware of my earlier problems with the Council… not the recent ones, but when I was trained as potential?”
Ambrose nodded. “The Council was under a different administration then. The old Council Elders could be very stuffy and conservative in some things. Their views on demons were just one symptom of that.” He flashed her a quick, reassuring grin. “You don’t have to worry about that sort of thing happening any more, Alessa my dear. It was true that given your semi-demonic nature Morris Giles was incorrect in his assessment of your potential, but even so he should never have been discouraged from taking you under his wing.”
He paused, taking his eyes from the road just long enough to cast an appraising glance over the woman beside him. “You and he were lovers for a long time, yes?”
“Yes, almost twenty years until he was turned… about twenty years ago.” She smiled weakly, “I’m older than I look… I hope that’s not a problem?”
Ambrose’s laughter was light, though had he given vent to his true feelings it would have sounded more than a little sardonic. There was very little about Alessa that he didn’t already know. His research on her had been quite thorough before he’d sent Lassiter off to capture her for him.
“No, my dear,” he said, squeezing her hand, “It’s not a problem at all. I’m well aware of the longevity of Verbati, and of your true appearance.” His eyes burned with lust for a second, and he was glad he was facing forward. The thought of Alessa in her native form set his loins afire.
“Perhaps,” he said hesitantly, as though shy about such matters, “perhaps one day you might show me what you really look like. But only if you’d be comfortable doing so, of course.”
She laughed too, blushing coquettishly. “Why ever would I be uncomfortable in my true form?” She laughed inwardly too; it was good to know her weapons.
The feeling of power emboldened her and her hand crept upwards on his thigh. “If you know my kind you also know I can resemble anything I want, don’t you?” she added, testing the waters. The sudden shiver and the tension in his lower body answered her, and she smiled broadly again.
When Delancre turned his hot eyes on her, she was watching him serenely. Long silver hair fell down her shoulders and covered the low neck of her dress. Her skin was dark, and her eyes flamed green. She looked just like a flesh and bone ‘Storm’. However, the slight look of disappointment in his eyes before he could cover himself confirmed her suspicions. The man had obviously expected something different. Good, give him something to wait for.
Although it wasn’t the Verbati form he’d hoped for, the evidence of Alessa’s demon blood still did much to stir Delancre’s passions, and he was pleased they were nearly at Alessa’s house. He pulled up before the stately home and with a calm he didn’t feel he stepped out of the vehicle and moved with slow deliberation to Alessa’s side. Opening the door, he held out a gentlemanly hand and gave a small bow.
Her altered appearance was striking in the moonlight when she alighted from the car, the silver hair reflecting the light and making it appear as though she wore a halo of luminescence. Barely able to restrain himself, Delancre moved a step closer to her and brushed his body against hers as he shifted his grip on her hand so they were now clasped.
“You are simply breathtaking, my darling. So much so that I feel compelled to…”
He swept her up in his arms and carried her, laughing and protesting, to the front door. While she fumbled in her purse for the key Ambrose spotted the dark windows above the garage, and concluded that must be the apartment where the gardener lived. His investigations had shown the man to be Ozimandius DeAngelo, which Delancre thought highly interesting.
Further thoughts in that direction were derailed when Alessa gave a small cry of triumph, holding aloft the door key. Ambrose manoeuvred her so she could insert the key, while she laughed, “This would be much easier if I was on my feet.”
“Maybe, but far less fun.”
With the door open, Alessa gestured to the wall, where a red light blinked at them. “Alarm code,” she explained.
Once the numbers had been punched in, Ambrose tightened his hold on her and brought his face down to meet hers. As he kissed her, he noticed a strange sensation, almost as though her lips were twisting below him. When he opened his eyes and pulled back, he grinned in delight to behold Alessa in her normal human form once more. The fire in her emerald green eyes told him all he needed to know.
He started up the stairs, carrying her effortlessly, and murmured, “You know, my dear, you look very tired. I think you need a good, long lie down…”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, May 13th
2:30 pm
Darian's apartment
Alessa paused before entering the Poplar Avenue building; she hadn't been there since her last White Hat meeting and that had been… ages ago. Raising her eyes she studied the classic lines of the building façade and sighed. She really didn’t want to go inside, much less to go to Darian's; only her affection for Cole and concern for Oz had prompted her to take this step.
Actually she had been planning on seeing the boy in some neutral place or inviting him to visit her at the big house, but now with this situation with Oz she just couldn’t delay it any more. It hadn't been until yesterday evening, when Oz's lawyer had called her, that she had learnt about Cole's involvement in the fight between Oz and Ellis, and his being in hospital, and about Oz’s message. She had rushed to check her cell phone voice mail and cursed herself when she heard Oz’s desperate message. Somehow Ellis had forgotten to mention that Oz had been protecting the teen. She shook her head. Bad as it had been, Ellis wasn’t really responsible for his actions, and she had to admit her own blame in pushing him to the edge.
Taking a deep breath she punched Darian's button on the panel next to the doors but kept her gaze averted from the security camera; maybe she'd be lucky and the fae wouldn’t be home.
“Hello.”
Darian’s voice rang out from the intercom, causing the demoness to sulk slightly. *He had to be home.*
“Hello Darian, it's Alessa. May I come up?”
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the box, finally broken by the buzz and click of the door opening.
Up in the apartment, Darian waited by the door anxiously. He and Alessa had not seen each other since before the events in Israel, before the time Darian was unable to save Chance. Often, he had wanted to visit the woman and tell her how sorry he was, but he never managed to actually do it.
How could he apologize for something like that? Her lover died, and he had been the only person there to stop it. But he had failed, and when he looked into Alessa’s eyes he would see that failure; it would play over and over in his mind, the same way it did when Cole looked at him.
*If only things had gone differently…*
Thankfully, the knock at the door dragged him from such rumination.
“Hey Alessa, come in,” he said shyly, not able to fully look her in the eyes. “How are you?”
"Fine, Darian. Thanks." Alessa's voice was cold and when she looked up at him she saw regret in those strange purple eyes of his. Instead of softening her to the fae it only reinforced her coldness. "I'm here to see Cole, is he in?"
“Yeah, Cole is in his room relaxing, but I think he’s awake,” the fae said, leading the woman down the hall. Before Alessa could go in to see her young friend, Darian suddenly spoke up. “Your friend Ellis did this to him.” The comment hung there, floating awkwardly.
Alessa just looked at him. She was behaving quite well, she thought, being quite civilized to him. Why did he have to make her want to stomp on him and make him cry all over again? She gripped strongly the purse she was carrying and felt the leather rip under her growing fingernails as she fought to control herself.
"My friend Ellis is as accountable for his acts as Cole was just last week," she said frostily, her face bearing a feral mask. She cocked her head, looking him up and down. "How are you feeling, by the way? Kate told me you'd been somewhat… drained?"
The bitterness in the comment could not be denied. Her intention had been malicious, and Darian did indeed flinch. *But Cole was under the influence of the virus,* he reminded himself, attempting to appear as if he had not understood the meaning behind the words. “I’m doing better, thanks.”
“Alessa, is that you?” Cole’s soft voice called out from his room. Before she could reply the door opened quickly, revealing the boy’s bruised form standing on the other side of the threshold. His ribs and one of his arms were bandaged, and several bruises still marred his face.
The moment Alessa saw Cole she forgot all about the fae and her anger at him. She rushed past him and leant to hold the boy, but in the last moment she controlled herself; she didn’t want to hurt him by being too effusive. Instead she just leant forward and pressed a heartfelt kiss to his cheek, her hands gripping his and pressing strongly.
"I'm so sorry, Cole, I should've been there…" She moved back and searched into his eyes. They had parted under the worst conditions, and she felt still guilty for having thrown him out of the house when he needed her most. "I'm sorry about the other night, too. Cole. I shouldn’t have told you to go. You know you can come back any time you want, don’t you?"
“I… I know,” he replied smiling slightly before drawing back from her embrace. Everything was really screwed up now and to be honest, he wasn’t sure how he felt. His emotions regarding her, him, them, the things they had done, the virus; it was all so confusing. In the whole mess of it there was only one certainty. Moving his gaze slightly to the fae he briefly allowed his eyes to lock with Darian’s before returning his sights to Alessa.
“Thank you for the offer, but this is my home,” he finished, before inviting her into the room so they could talk more privately.
Alessa entered the teen's bedroom feeling slightly hurt by the boy's rebuff but, even if she couldn’t stand the man, she knew that Darian was a good influence in Cole's life. Boys his age needed a father figure in their lives, and for much that she tried she didn’t have a father figure gene in her body. Now, if Chance were here… Forcefully she pushed the thought back into the depths of her mind. Chance wasn’t here.
She sat down and smiled warmly at the boy, at least she could show him she cared and that he could count on her. "It's ok, Cole. Just promise you won't be disappearing on me again. I was really scared till I learnt you'd came back here."
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to worry you.”
There was a moment of silence as the two were not sure where to start. Yes, they had both come to love each other, but still, with what had happened, it made things... weird.
“I’m not only sorry for that,” Cole began, “I’m sorry for everything. You’ve always been so good to me, and the way I talked to you, the things I did...” The boy sagged onto his bed, drawing his legs close to his body. Slowly Cole looked up, and Alessa couldn’t help but notice the lack of lustre in his eyes, as if he was still troubled by some invisible enemy.
Little did she know, the boy was and had been fighting against an adversary ever since Kate removed the runes from him. The rush of black magic constantly called to him, like a siren luring an unwilling prey to its doom. But Cole fought it, every second struggling to resist the temptation. It was a battle that left him so exhausted.
Alessa just shook her head. If they started apologizing for everything they'd done the past couple of months they'd be doing it for ages.
"I haven’t been a saint myself, Cole. You don’t have to apologize."
She looked at Cole again and was worried about his looks, but she knew that if she let him see her as she really looked he'd be worried too. Last night had taken its toll on her too. After Delancre had left she had felt sullied and disgusting and had cried herself to too few hours of sleep. The face in the mirror this morning had looked too much like the old Alessa, the Alessa that had just came back from Colombia.
Tentatively, Alessa spoke. "Kate told me something of what happened, Cole. She said you've been cured of the virus. I know I haven’t talked to you about this, but I need you to know that Ellis is also infected. It doesn’t excuse what he did, but maybe you can at least understand…"
“I don’t blame him,” the boy said quickly. “In fact there was… is a small part of me that…”
Cole stopped, and shivered slightly. Normally, at times like this, he would break down and cry. How many tears had he wept in his life? Too many for someone his age, that was for sure. However, this time his eyes remained dry. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let himself cry any more; if he gave in, just once more, he would break down and he would once again stare into the Abyss – he would be lost to the darkness.
"That what, Cole?" she asked, suddenly afraid of the look on her young friend's face.
*...that wished Ellis had killed me,* he thought desolately. Of course, that was something Alessa couldn’t hear. *I’ve been already such a burden to everyone, I don’t need them knowing.*
Forcing on a brave face, the teen replied, “Oh, I don’t know. I’m rambling, I guess. After the whole ordeal my mind has been kinda scattered, you know.”
The demoness smiled knowingly and she leant forward to hold his hand again. "You aren’t alone at this Cole, you have me and Darian. We will help you get through this." She moved back when she noticed the flash of emotion that went through his face. She knew Cole wasn’t used to be shown affection and she didn’t want to embarrass him further.
"And I know how unsettling the virus can be, but now that you're free of it… everything will be ok, Cole."
She looked at him, worried again. She had felt dark magic in him that night, and she knew that even without the virus that had to be difficult to deal with. She had seen Chance go through something similar - not dark magic, maybe, but Dray'chen hadn't been easy to live with either. "I know you have problems to deal with now… but at least you're yourself again."
She looked away for a moment. "You'll probably think that I don’t have a right to talk about him, after how I've behaved lately, but… well, remember how Chance lived through his ordeal once he had his demon bound again? It wasn’t easy, but he did it." She looked at him again, and pressed his hand once more, smiling. "I'm confident you'll get through this. There's strength in you, boy."
“I wish I could be as strong as he was.” He paused a moment, before lowering his head and sighing, “I wish he would have stayed.”
Cole’s eyes widened, as the realization of what he had just said dawned on him. As far as Alessa knew, Chance was dead, and it had to remain that way.
”Just tell Alessa I’m dead. I want you all to think that. It will be easier that way, and you can move on…” Chance’s words echoed in the boy’s mind.
“I… I mean I wish he never would have left to Israel in the first place,” Cole quickly corrected himself, hoping Alessa hadn't caught the slip of tongue.
"So do I, Cole." Alessa got up and went to the window, looking without seeing the street below, and tried to control the tears that rose to her eyes. *So do I.*
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "Look at me, I seem to be crying all the time lately," she half laughed, still looking out. Once calmer, she turned back to him. Planting a smile that she was sure he wasn’t buying, she sat down next to him again.
"Now, there's something else I want to tell you," she said, and quickly told him about Oz's arrest and Ellis' false testimony. "Oz needs you to tell what really happened Cole, otherwise they won't release him, not with his antecedents."
She bit her lip; even knowing about the virus it was hard to condone Ellis' irrationality in all this. "At the moment Ellis is still in and out of consciousness and with this virus… well, it's difficult to speak any reason into him. He's stuck to his lie." She leant forward again, looking into his worried eyes. "You'll tell the cops the truth, won't you, Cole?"
"Yeah, I'll do the right thing."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Saturday, 12th May 2007 – 7:30pm
Somewhere in Honduras
The dusty truck rattled to a stop and Pelor drew the hood of his cloak closer to his face. In the humid tropical countries he’d been passing through it had been a torment to wear the garment, but speed was of the essence in his travels and if he wanted to hitchhike he had to appear human. That was difficult to do with bright blue fur over one’s body. So he sweltered in the cloak and thanked the gods that nobody had enquired too closely about him yet.
He slid from between the bags of coffee beans that half-filled the open truck, and landed with a soft ‘thump’ on the road. They were at a service station, the driver filling up the gas tank, and Pelor took the opportunity to go relieve himself and to drink from an outside tap he found. His stomach rumbled at the smell of food coming from within the small rest stop, but he could see the driver had already finished his business and was clambering back into the cab of the truck.
Unable to spare the time to search for scraps to placate his empty belly, Pelor trotted to the rear of the vehicle again and scrambled aboard just as the engine roared to life. Settling amongst the lumpy bags of coffee beans once more, he thought of Alessa and ignored the discomfort he was in.
She had to be warned.
daye and marcus talk after she's cured
*** Saturday 12 May 2007 3:42pm ***
*** Aspen, Colorado ***
Marcus sat in a chair facing the picture window of the ‘cabin’. Set in the mountains above Aspen the view was spectacular and the surroundings very exclusive, which was just as well. At the height of the fever Daye had raved, long and loud. Her words had been pretty incoherent but he was glad they hadn’t attempted the cure in more crowded surroundings.
For that matter the whole process had been touch and go. The virus had been tenacious and despite being relatively benign under normal circumstances it had put a massive strain on Daye's body while her immune system fought it off.
Fortunately Onyx had been there to keep an eye on the process, but it had taken a few long and arduous hours to shepherd Daye through it all. Now her fever had broken and having dried her off after the near constant ice baths Marcus had left her to sleep in one of the cabin’s luxurious bedrooms. Onyx was tending to Robert, making sure the mage remained in his trance and doing some more work on the man’s memories.
So here Marcus sat looking out over that wonderful view, drink in hand, waiting to see who would awaken in that bed.
Daye came to slowly. Her body ached and she was incredibly thirsty. She was also completely lost as to where she was or what was going on. She sat up slowly in a strange bed and scanned the room, seeing no one and nothing familiar.
Daye was disoriented and a bit overwhelmed. The room she sat in was beautiful and comfortable, and as she sat surveying it, slowly she began to recall the events of the last week or so. She flushed, horrified as she remembered the things she'd been up to so since awakening that morning in her bedroom at the Council house.
She also realized now where she was. Marcus... Marcus had invited her away for the weekend, and she was in the cabin in Aspen that he had rented for them. She was lying in a bed, alone thankfully, and she was dressed beneath the heavy comforter, again thankfully. She also felt like herself, her true self, as she had when Cole had stolen her magic. It was both a wonderful and terrible feeling all at once. She was overjoyed to be back in control, but deeply disturbed by the memories she had of the time which had passed when she hadn't been.
Daye could recall the men and the demons she'd spent her nights with at the Council house. She could remember throwing herself at Tash. She could remember her callous disregard for Ryan, a memory which made her want to weep. And she could remember the way she'd been with Marcus.
She could also remember that he'd not taken advantage of her, that he'd instead been a good friend. Daye felt inordinately grateful to whatever fate had thrown Marcus into her path at such an unfortunate time in her life. She knew without a doubt that he was responsible for the way she was now. She just had to find him and figure out how.
Daye pushed back the covers and slowly stood, walking gingerly to the bedroom door. She opened it carefully and peeked out into the empty hallway. Seeing no one, she slowly made her way down the hall to an open area which featured a brown suede sofa and matching armchairs arrayed in a sitting area and a fireplace before a big, plush rug.
The room was dominated by a giant picture window that displayed the beauty of Aspen's snow capped mountains shimmering in the early afternoon sun.
Marcus sat before the window, gazing out, with his back to Daye as she entered the room.
"M-Marcus?" Daye's voice sounded creaky coming from her parched throat.
He released a breath he’d been holding since she’d walked into the room. She sounded awful but at least it wasn’t an attempt at a throaty trill or something, just an honest inquiry.
Marcus stood and turned his back to the window, greeting Daye with a smile. The fight with the virus had taken its toll on her already taxed body and she looked almost as bad as she sounded. “Hello, Daye.” He moved forward but stopped short of actually embracing her. “Something to drink?”
Daye nodded, attempting to smile at him. She could sense his trepidation, and she understood it. She'd undoubtedly made him uncomfortable with her constant sexual advances of late. Daye was impressed by his restraint and consideration. She was utterly ashamed, on the other hand, of her own behavior.
"Yes, I'm... my throat is very dry," she replied.
“Sure, I’ll get you some water.” Marcus moved over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a glass, and ran the tap for a moment making sure the water was suitably cold. “How are you feeling? No aches or pains? No dizziness?”
Daye smiled warmly at him then. He was so considerate, so concerned. She didn't deserve this man's friendship any more than she deserved Drew's love. She'd brought them both so much trouble of late. Still, she couldn't very well refuse either.
"I'm a bit sore... and I'm pretty tired, but I feel... good. Real good," Daye replied, taking the water Marcus brought her and bringing the glass to her lips. She drank deeply of the pure, cool liquid and then set the nearly empty glass down on a nearby table with a soft sigh.
"I-I think I owe you big time, Marcus," Daye said. Her eyes were on him and they shone with a mixture of gratitude and worship. "Whatever you did, I feel really good... liberated. So, thank you, very much."
Marcus picked up the glass and refilled it. “Well, you’ve just had a rough thirty six hours, maybe you ought to sit down. I’ll get Onyx to put some food together.” Marcus glanced downward at the audible gurgle of Daye’s stomach and suppressed a laugh.
“They don’t bite, but you might have trouble getting back out of them.” Marcus nodded in the direction of the sofa, then headed towards the short flight of stairs leading to the bedroom where Onyx was keeping Robert occupied.
Onyx and Marcus returned a few minutes later and the demon immediately crossed to the kitchen to prepare a light meal, while Marcus settled into a chair opposite where Daye had sunk into the sofa.
"So..." Daye took a deep breath. She needed to know exactly what was going on, and Marcus was going to have to fill her in. "I guess I was pretty... out of it. You want to tell me what's been going on, or at least as much as you know?"
“That’s probably a good idea..” He glanced towards Onyx for a second “Where to begin…” Looking back to Daye he straightened a little in the chair and took a breath.
“You were infected with a virus about two months or so ago. It was an unusual critter, infecting only magically active beings. As far as we can tell the virus feeds on a person’s magical power to create an effect that meddles in the person’s brain chemistry.”
He paused, took another deep breath and carried on. “The effects are quite nasty; elevated base drives, suppressed inhibitory functions. We think its effects may vary from individual to individual but your recent behavior…” Marcus trailed off, unsure how exactly to continue.
“Anyway, when Cole drained you it pushed the virus into dormancy. You had enough power to keep it alive but not to fuel its effects. And the rest, as they say, is history.”
Daye listened intently. Her face suffused with color at Marcus' mention of her "recent behavior". When he finished, she settled back to think things through carefully. The room was silent as she did so.
Finally, she spoke. "I... When I got my magic back from Cole, when the voices and all returned, I went to the Watchers' Council for help. It was almost as natural as breathing, you know, going back to them. They were my family for so long. But... I can't understand why they didn't cure this illness or virus or whatever. Shouldn't Lord Delancre and his mages have been able to tell? If it's unique to magical people and creatures and the like, shouldn't they have known?"
Marcus winced at that question. It was nice to have Daye’s former - and Robert’s current - status confirmed, but it also made certain other things he’d found out likely to be less palatable to Daye.
“Maybe. You see, the virus is artificial. It simply cannot have evolved naturally. It was made. Once we knew this I had certain people look into who could have done this. There were a few names but one was especially interesting; Dr. Whit. His PhD thesis was on the use of viral vectors to ferry genes for gene therapy, but after he finished it he pretty much disappeared. What info I have got suggests the US government snapped him up but the details are too sketchy to be sure. Anyway, a couple of years ago he reappeared. Operated on the fringe of the science generally because of a few oddball theories he’d picked up. Nothing too worrying about that and nothing to say he was our man, but eventually he went to work for a corporation called Stevenson. I have lots of sources, and Stevenson apparently runs a facility in Colombia, where, I might add, Doctor Whit was heading to for his new job. The thing is, somebody I’m willing to trust believes that both the corporation and the Colombia facility are linked to the Watchers. The reason the Watchers didn’t cure you? I think they created the thing in the first place.”
Marcus' words rang in Daye's ears. As his meaning came clear to her, she was suddenly reminded of the last conversation she'd had with Delancre, on the night before she'd left with Marcus. She could remember clearly what the man had said. *Go and bring the girl here, my dear Amanda. Bring me Maia. She is important, that's true, but not more important than your safety or sanity. You've borne the burdens of that prophecy for far too long. Bring Maia to me, and I will help you carry your burden.*
Daye could see clearly now, for the very first time. Delancre had wanted Maia all along. He'd been slowly cajoling her, persuading her to go and take the girl from Sam. She had been so close to giving in, to giving him the thing he most desired.
*But why?* Daye asked herself. *Why does he want her? What possible reason...? Oh... Oh, Goddess..."
"Oh, Marcus, oh no," Daye's voice was filled with dismay. "I've been a fool... a blind, idiotic fool. It's Delancre. It's always been Delancre... he's behind it, isn't he? He's done all this... because of me. Because of Maia. I'm so stupid!"
“No, not stupid, Daye,” Marcus shook his head to emphasize his point, “Blinded by this disease. You’ve been too involved in yourself to see what this Delancre wanted. Just as he hoped, I would guess. You can’t blame yourself. You were in a fight you knew nothing about and didn’t have the resources to win.”
Daye appreciated his kind words, but Marcus had no idea how long she'd missed the clues. Even before the virus, before this terrible time, she'd known that something about Delancre wasn't right. He'd been responsible for Ryan's death, only then when Ryan turned out to be alive, she had not questioned Delancre's involvement. Now, with Ryan at the Council house, it was obvious to her that Delancre had been involved in manipulating her for years. And now, seeing clearly for the first time, she could guess why.
"It's been going on for far longer than that," Daye said sadly. "I just wanted so much to believe in him... to believe in the Council. He rescued me after my mother died, Ambrose gave me a purpose and he made me feel like I was part of something."
Daye laughed bitterly. "But of course, I didn't even begin to imagine why. He's done all this, taking me to the Council, separating me from Ryan, and now this, and he's done it all because he wants Maia. The prophecy told him about her long before she was ever born, and Delancre has been working towards his own ends ever since."
"Oh Goddess, it's all because of me..." Daye shook her head in bewildered wonder. "Because I came here. Just like Mariah and the things Ryan did to my friends."
Daye's eyes widened in shocked comprehension. "Oh... They could be sick too. Cole... Cole probably is. It's my fault, it's all my fault. He came here because of me... Look what's happened... Goddess help me. I've caused so much pain."
Marcus slipped out of his chair and settled into the sofa by Daye’s side before pulling her into a tentative embrace. He rubbed gently across her back. “Shhh, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. Why would he want Maia? I know Mother Mariah was involved in her birth, but how could Delancre use that?”
Tearfully, Daye explained to Marcus about Maia, the prophecy, her family, Mariah, and Delancre's role in everything. At the end, it was quite clear that the man had been plotting and planning for years.
Daye sat with her head nestled on Marcus' chest. She was beginning to get a handle on herself, thanks to his comfort. She sighed, turning her head so that she was looking into his face.
"Thank you, again," she said, sounding chagrined. "I seem to keep doing that to you."
Daye smiled sheepishly. "You may not believe this, but I'm actually usually pretty together. I guess you just came into my life at the wrong time... for you. For me, well you're Goddess-sent."
Daye paused, watching Marcus for a moment. She was cradled in his arms, and now that she was no longer crying, she was suddenly remembering other times when she'd been in his embrace. He looked so strong and handsome and she felt her face suffuse with warmth as she sat there.
Realizing the direction her wayward thoughts were taking, Daye sat up abruptly. She gazed around the room, unwilling to look at Marcus again as she tried to get herself back on track.
Marcus felt the moment when Daye became uncomfortable, and he made no move to resist her escape. In fact, as they spent seconds looking at anything but each other, he was profoundly grateful for Onyx’s cleared throat.
The slight cough attracted his attention and the demon placed two salads on the coffee table. “Will there be anything else, Marcus?” she asked quietly.
“No, I think we’re ok now.”
Marcus picked up both plates and offered one to Daye, his gaze carefully neutral. She hadn’t been the only one to feel something stirring but he hoped he wouldn’t make things any more difficult for her than they already were.
Daye took the proffered plate, opting to focus on the food for a few minutes and ignore what had just passed between them. She felt confused and unsure of how to continue. Marcus had been so good to her, and she was so grateful to him...
*And I'm attracted to him,* Daye admitted to herself. *Of course I am, and it's only natural for me to feel uncomfortable now, right? I mean, I remember everything that has happened between us... in vivid detail. But I have to get past that. I can't let my own issues make him uncomfortable. Although it may be difficult, I want to be Marcus' friend, not his lover. I love Drew and, despite what I may have done, I want only to be with him. This... this is just an aberration... a mixture of gratitude and appreciation. I can get past it.*
Having talked herself around, Daye finally looked directly at Marcus, and her lips quirked when she realized he was avoiding looking at her.
"Uhm... you okay?" she asked, humor coloring her words.
“Yeah…” Marcus gave a little laugh to punctuate his response. “I should have realized this was going to be awkward. I’m sorry, Daye. I shouldn’t have been so familiar.”
Daye shook her head, negating his apology. "No, it's not your fault," she said. "It's fine. I... I'm still hopeful we can somehow remain friends when all this is over."
Daye set her food aside and moved closer to where he sat, taking his hands in her own. "You're a good man, Marcus Dalton. I'm very grateful to you. In a different place or a different time in my life, I think..." Daye's voice trailed off. "Well, that doesn't matter. I just want you to know, I like you and I'd like to be your friend now. Assuming you don't feel I've already become too much of a nuisance as it is."
“You realize, of course, how irritating ‘can’t we just be friends’ is?” he said with a smile. “Perhaps if things were different… but they’re not and I would be happy to consider you a friend, Amanda.”
She opened her mouth to reply and Marcus spoke again. “I know, ‘call me Daye’.”
Daye laughed. She had been just about to say exactly that. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She glanced around the room and then turned her attention back to Marcus. "Uhm... what happened to the wizard... Robert? Where'd you stash him? Does he have any idea what's really going on here?"
“Ah, Onyx has him in another room. Just in a light trance so he’s not really aware of what’s going on. He probably thinks that right now he’s listening to our… ah, exertions.” Marcus had the grace to blush slightly at the last remark.
Daye quirked an eyebrow at that. Still, it made sense. Obviously, there was no way that Marcus and Onyx could have trusted Robert, not knowing what they knew, so creating false memories for him was the perfect plan.
Daye considered what that meant for her. She was glad that as far as the Council was concerned she was still infected with the virus. That meant that she could return to them, if she so chose, and they would be none the wiser. She had the means to go back and try and figure out what Delancre was really up to. Maybe she could even put a stop to it, or at least throw a monkey wrench in his plans. If so, she'd feel she had at least begun to try and make up for all the pain and trouble she'd caused her friends.
"Ok... Good, so there's no reason I can't go back to the Council house tomorrow then," she said to Marcus off handedly.
Marcus gave the statement a moment to sink in. When he was sure he hadn’t misheard her he replied. “I think that would be a remarkably bad idea.” Marcus spoke over her protests. “You’d be discovered almost immediately.”
As he was speaking, he slid across the sofa and reached out to her. His hands stayed totally within his own self proscribed boundaries but the manner of his touch was anything but chaste. In moments Daye was obviously uncomfortable and rapidly moving towards anger. Marcus drew back and let his hands fall away.
“I’m sorry. Truly I am, but it was the easiest way to show you. You aren’t that woman, Daye, and you can’t pretend to be her. How many inside the mansion would expect you to respond to what I just did?”
Marcus stood up and moved back to the counter, pouring himself a drink. Being with Daye it seemed was testing his control more than he realized. For a moment he hadn’t wanted to stop.
Daye struggled to control her suddenly raging emotions. She had been caught completely off guard by Marcus’ sensual assault. Her body was rioting in response, while her mind was crowded with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
*That was… uncalled for,* Daye thought. *Nice?* suggested the inner voice she chose to ignore. *He’s not my father or husband… or keeper.*
Although Daye could appreciate his concern, she couldn’t accept Marcus’ attempt to dissuade her in that way. Fighting to keep her anger in check, she spoke in a slow, even tone. “I’m grateful to you, Marcus, as I’ve already said. You’ve been a good friend to me when I most needed one, but that doesn’t give you the right to manhandle me just to make a point. I’m quite sure you knew you were overstepping yourself just then, and whether or not you think that was necessary to prove your point is of no consequence to me. Don’t do that again.”
Marcus felt his cheeks heat at the well deserved reprimand from Daye. He had overstepped the mark, knowingly so, but that didn’t invalidate his point which she seemed to have essentially avoided while delivering her rebuke.
Sipping his water to give himself time, Marcus moved to opposite the sofa and sat down in the chair where he’d initially started this conversation.
“Ok. Yes, I was out of line, but I’m right as well. Delancre is going to expect your previous behavior to continue and you simply aren’t capable of maintaining such a façade. If he’s been planning this as long as you say then he’s smart enough to notice the minor discrepancy that you’re no longer fucking every male in sight.”
Marcus' choice of words stung. Daye didn't need a reminder of her deplorable behavior. She remembered, very well, everything she'd done. She was ashamed of all of it... almost all of it, anyway.
Still, Marcus sat there, so cool and haughty, and Daye couldn't help herself. She felt her back go up. If he wanted a fight, which he seemed to indeed, then she'd be more than happy to give him one.
*Some hero,* she thought derisively, her eyes flashing with temper.
"I'm not a complete imbecile, you know," Daye sprang to her feet and began to pace the room. If Marcus had known her better, he would have realized that, despite her still calm tone, she was simmering with anger. "I've thought of that, but I happen to know something you don't."
“Oh?"
"Yes, oh," Daye echoed. Marcus' attitude was seriously rubbing her the wrong way. Sure, she'd been a bit unstable since they first met, and he'd never really come to know who she really was, but generally her friends didn't out and out doubt her intelligence.
"I don't think that I can go back to the Watchers and pick up right where I left off," she continued, still pacing, and avoiding even looking at the man who'd so fired her up. "Obviously, if I'm uncomfortable with you pawing at me, then I'm not going to be able to pretend, even for the sake of the greater good, to be amenable to... how did you put it? Oh, yes, 'fucking every male in sight'."
"Nicely put, by the way," Daye added dryly. "What you don't realize, though... what you'd have no way of knowing, really, is that I won't exactly be alone or friendless if I go back. There actually happens to be someone I know, someone I can trust, back at that house. And I'm fairly certain that together we could manage to pull off this deception. For a while, at least."
“This Delancre, would you say he was perceptive. Do you think you can fool him? Not just over the whole switch from promiscuity to monogamy, but can you convince him you’re comfortable in the clothes you would have worn? Can you fake all the small differences that separated her from you?”
Marcus stood up. He saw no reason to continue craning his neck to look at her. “Because if you can’t, what happens to Drew and Maia when you’re caught?”
Daye's eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath. That had been a low blow.
"What happens to them if I do nothing?" Daye countered. "What happens when Delancre's current plan is thwarted and he decides on another and then another? He's been playing god in my life for years. Am I supposed to just sit by and allow that to continue?"
Daye strode forward, coming dangerously close to Marcus. Her whole body thrummed with anger. The air in the room practically vibrated with it.
"I am through playing the victim here," she all but snarled. "I'm not weak. He thinks I am. He's underestimating me."
Daye paused. Her chest was heaving and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. "Apparently, so are you."
“Perhaps I am,” Marcus’ voice would have frosted glass and its low tones were in marked contrast to Daye’s stridency, “but all I see right now is a young woman too blinded by anger to see the obvious flaws in her plan for revenge.”
If he thought he could shame her into co-operating with him, well Marcus had a lot to learn about her. Daye rolled her eyes.
"It's not about my anger, although there's plenty of that, believe me," she retorted. "There's more going on here than that."
Daye took a deep breath, wanting so much to make this man understand. "If he'd hurt me... or lied to me... and that was all... well, maybe. But, can't you see, what he turned me into... what he made me do... I betrayed everything I believe in. He twisted me. He perverted me. He stole who I was. how can I just... walk away?"
Daye could feel the hurt underlying her anger and frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm dirty because of what he did. I may never be able to clean away the taint on my soul. I may lose everything… Everything I love, everything I believe in. Maybe I deserve to, but he… he doesn't deserve to triumph. He doesn't deserve my surrender. I won't let him think he's beaten me. I won't let Delancre go on thinking he can do whatever he wants to me without fear of retribution. If you think that's petty, fine. I like you Marcus... even now, when you've seriously pissed me off, I still like you, but I won't let you convince me to just run home with my tail between my legs.
"I very much want to be worthy of the friends and family I turned my back on," she said softly. "The only way I can even begin to feel that way is to do something to win back myself."
*Did I sully your precious soul?* “Then you’re going to give in to your martyr complex and beard the lion in his den? If you want to show him he hasn’t won go back to your old life and rebuild it. Go back with your head held high knowing you didn’t do those things, that your hands are clean.”
Marcus took a breath. “It’s that or you can let your red-stained hands show how worthy of your friends you are.”
Daye shook her head in disbelief. "You just don't get it, do you?" she asked. "You can't grasp what I'm talking about here. I have no self respect left. I've behaved like an evil slut. I slept with my best friend's husband. I tried to rape someone who trusted me. I was cheap... and indiscriminate... and completely immoral. I hate myself for what I've done. Virus or no virus, I can't just go home and pretend nothing's happened. I can't... I can't..."
Daye could feel tears of anger and pain building inside her, but looking into Marcus' cold, callous gaze, she couldn't - she wouldn't allow herself to cry again. This man had been witness to too many of her breakdowns. She wouldn't show weakness to him again.
"I have to do this," she finally said with conviction. "Whether you think I should or not, I have to. I feel angry and hurt and dirty, but I also want to protect them all. I need to. I have to."
Marcus looked at her and saw it - determination in every line of her body. There would be no dissuading her from this course. He wasn't even sure he wanted to any more.
"Cheap, indiscriminate, immoral. I took advantage of every one of those failings, didn't I, Daye?" he said with some bitterness. "Very well, go on your fool’s errand. Don't expect me to save you from him a second time."
Marcus stalked back to the kitchen counter and practically shattered the glass as he slammed it down. Then without a backward glanced he strode from the room.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
11 May 2007
Gromyoko Jewellers
Nikolai Makarov’s car pulled up to a stop outside of the shop before he got out of the car. The shop manager said something to someone, and one of the men came out to greet him. Slipping a couple of twenties into his pocket on the way by, Nikolai pushed open the door of the shop easily.
Much had changed in the time since he was ‘made’, despite his new unease about being in that deep. Most of those who saw him looked on him with a mixture of fear and respect. The last time he went to a busy shop in the Russian part of the city, the owner had come around from the counter to deal with him first. As for the other men… they had been suitably impressed by his rapid rise.
Including Jimmy, who was already waiting for him in the shop. “Hey, Andropov,” the Italian proclaimed rather excitedly, moving over to him. Quickly giving the man a kiss on each cheek, he looked excited to see him. “Where the hell have you been the past few days? Svetlana’s been wondering about some of the shipments.”
“I was trying to get more information on that thing,” Nikolai said flatly, falling into their vague mode of speech.
“Which thing was that?”
“The thing with that guy from England.”
“Oh, that thing,” Jimmy nodded in understanding. “Jesus, you would not believe some of the road blocks we’ve hit there.”
“There’s a reason for that. When Dmitri hears what I have to say…”
“That bad?”
Nikolai nodded without saying anything. His associate looked worried, sighing before leading him up the stairs in the back to where the powerful Russian boss waited for them. That Dmitri was still in Los Angeles spoke of how seriously he took the problems with the Council.
“Andropov, welcome back,” Dmitri said in Russian, rising from behind his desk to greet him as an old friend. “You look a little disturbed. Does something bother you?”
Again the Russian sighed, unsure of where to begin. He figured it best to start with what he’d learned about Ambrose Delancre. “I’ve traced the ‘renegades’ back to the First Elder.”
Jimmy and Dmitri exchanged worried glances at the news, the latter steadying himself. “You are positive of this? That it is not just a single section of renegades?”
“I saw his soldiers myself. They have an unwavering loyalty and some of my associates led me to believe that he has broken their will.”
“Bozhemoi,” Dmitri said simply, a curse that could have got him in trouble in the atheistic Soviet Union depending on who he said it around. Some people didn’t care if you used the traditional curse, while to others any mention of god just wasn’t communist enough.
Jimmy had spent the better part of a minute shaking his head slowly when he looked up at the group again. “Yeah, well, there’s more,” he said. “I just got word, our contact Illana Toren, the demon? She disappeared. Taken by someone who we think might possibly be related to the Council. We found her body two days ago.”
Dmitri’s face suddenly went to harshly determined. Even though the demon Illana Toren wasn’t a member of the family, she was still a contact, and it had become known on the streets that this market was under the control of the Gromyoko family. Worse than that was the fact that she was affiliated enough with them, part of Jimmy and Nikolai’s ‘crew’ that worked the shipments.
He switched back to English, since he knew Jimmy was better with that than Russian, his voice full of the controlled anger that made him so feared in his day. “Find whoever was responsible and give him a necktie. Kneecap any non-civilians with him at the time.”
Nikolai suddenly recoiled again. He felt some rage, but it was tightly under control. Dmitri was not a man who would be overcome by his passion any time soon. More than that was a fearsome determination to survive. Still, with Delancre’s power…
“I don’t mean any disrespect, but I think we should delay vengeance. It’s possible we will have to go to the mattresses.”
Dmitri calmed, but still returned to Russian. “Lavrenti Vladimirovich understood the need for vengeance.”
“Lavrenti Vladimirovich was a fool who was destroyed by his hatred in the end. My associates will bring much better revenge.”
“You are right of course,” Dmitri sighed in recognition of the fact that Nikolai did have access to some resources that he did not. The man was a great asset to the family. Idly the Russian wondered if he couldn’t become the Consigliere if given enough time. “Jimmy, I want you to handle preparations. Get in touch with Bulldog Manetta.”
As Jimmy left, Nikolai blinked in surprise. Bulldog Manetta was an American who was in Dmitri’s employ, the Russian’s most feared enforcer. Nikolai was always the scalpel, who would strike a single target. Manetta was usually sent in when a street gang decided to muscle in on Dmitri’s terroritory, or in a conflict with a rival family. “Are you sure that’s called for?”
“If things are as bad as you say they are, I intend to be prepared. I will not abandon the people under my protection. If this means I must take the Council into the shit house and beat them, I will do so.” As they always did when they were alone, they easily slipped back and forth between Russian and the sublanguage known as mat, a distinctly male sublanguage of swearing. One so prominent that nobody balked at Vladimir Putin using it.
“There is something else, Dmitri Edmundovich. The necromancer has called in his favour, and I am unsure what to do. Someone attacked his assistant and he wants revenge.”
Dmitri considered this a moment. “She is still alive?” At Nikolai’s acknowledgement he went on. “Well then, simply have the man beaten for this. Get reliable men, people who won’t be carried away.”
Nikolai nodded. “Thank you. If you do not mind, I need to go talk with Jimmy about some arrangements to take care of this.”
“Of course.” Dmitri watched as the other Russian left, reflecting that something seemed to have changed in him. Nikolai seemed more reluctant now, and he wondered if the rumour that he’d heard – that Andropov Adreivich underwent a merging with a Xangyarj. He’d have to talk to him about it at the time, and if it was true find out just why he was back in the life.
Will Gets the Evidence
Friday, 11th May 2007 – 9:38am GMT – The Watchers’ Council Headquarters, London, England
1:38am Pacific Time - Los Angeles Time
William Travers groaned in annoyance as his computer system flashed up the same message.
“Sometimes I really hate technology,” grumbled Will as he struggled to save as much of his work as possible before, with a hollow, popping noise, the computer powered down and shut off almost instantaneously. He picked up his telephone in annoyance.
“Stacy, can you call the tech guys and let them know that virus is still in the system? … … … Yes, a complete shutdown, just like before, bloody thing.”
“Mr Travers?” came a female voice from the doorway.
Will looked up to see his assistant’s head half poking around the corner of the door. “Yes, Stacy?”
The young woman stood up and walked inside the modern office. Will might be a Travers but his tastes were much different to those of his father. His office was a bright and cheerful combination of clean lines and minimalist furnishings. “I have your mail, and your messages from last night-”
“I don’t suppose there was any response from WC LA?”
“No, sir, I’m afraid not, but there was a call from Los Angeles, a woman, she was quite anxious to talk to you, I don’t think she realised how early it was over here.”
Will looked up in surprise, “Jess?”
“No, though she did have an English accent, a… Ms. Eldridge? Catherine I think her name was…”
“Kate?” William mumbled quietly to himself as he took the stack of messages and sat down to look through them. He hadn’t heard from her in a long time in fact last he’d heard from Jess was that she’d got married to some guy in the FBI. “What did she say?”
Stacy flipped through the bunch of messages until she pulled out the relevant one, “It says, ‘I need to talk to you, it’s important’ – not particularly verbose, is it?”
Will laughed as Stacy handed over the rest of the messages and his mail for the day. But as the girl left the room he couldn’t help but look at that short sentence and wonder. Some particularly worrying rumours about First Elder Delancre and his operation in Los Angeles and indeed the training facility in Colombia had been circulating the Council for the past month and were beginning to gain credence, though no one dared speak out of turn, not where the First Elder was concerned. He’d tried calling the LA Headquarters but he only ever got shunted from pillar to post and his enquiries never met a satisfactory end.
“This kind of thing would never have happened when dad was in charge,” he mumbled to himself in annoyance as he set down Kate’s message and picked up his mail. Most of it was the usual circulars and memos, but one caught his eye in particular, a small package wrapped up in brown paper.
FOA/ Director William Travers
34-39 Praed Street
Paddington
London
ENGLAND
William frowned as he turned the package over in his hands, the address was poorly written and bore several stamps and the words ‘RETURN TO SENDER’ more than once, it was clear that this package had made several trips back and forth across the Atlantic before reaching its final destination.
As he unwrapped the parcel a piece of paper floated out, landing on the floor. Will bent to pick it up, frowning as he began to read.
Dear Will,
All my life I wanted to make a difference, well I guess it’s ironic that it’s only in death that I’ll be able to fulfil that desire. If you have this notebook then it’s because they got to me before I had time to finish my research and tell you this in person. It also means that I was much closer to the truth than even I realised. I’m not shitting you Will, this is dangerous stuff and by sending you this notebook I’ve put you and possibly others in danger too but that’s a risk you will have to take if you want to know the truth.
The contents of this notebook document research into WC Base 347, Isla Nublada, Colombia, the XenoWarrior Project and First Elder Lord Ambrose Delancre. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to find out the things that I did when I first embarked on this undertaking. This could shake the Council to the very core. Will, you are the only one I trust with this information, I know that you will know what to do with it.
I warn you to be cautious, I’ve been on the run for months, I’ve felt the breath of First Elder Delancre and his bounty hunters at the back of my neck, he will not allow me to expose him for the corrupt despot that he is. Well I have one last trick up my sleeve. Those bastards never expected me to make a copy; well this’ll show ‘em for underestimating Jimmy Han, won’t it?
Take care, Will. You’ve been a good friend.
Jimmy.
His hands trembling, Will picked up the notebook that had accompanied the letter. Flicking through the pages, his eyes grew wider, his mouth dropping open in amazement. Will did something he had never done before, not once in the entirety of his upbringing. He swore.
“Fuck!”
Grabbing his telephone he pressed the piece to his ear, “Stacy, get me booked on the next flight to Los Angeles. If any one asks, I’m visiting my sister for a few days.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
May 14th
The Armoury
8:17 am
Alessa arrived early to work, ready to apologize to Reah for last Friday's absence. She was relieved to find that Reah was out on an errand and wouldn’t come back for a couple of hours. Not that her boss would be too harsh or anything, but the last days, with all the infiltration thing going on in her mind she had been a little remiss about her job. *Limbic infection isn’t really an excuse,* she thought as she occupied her usual place behind the counter, settling things ready for opening time.
She was nervous and cast a sidelong look at Nikolai before sighing. The man was lazily leaning on the other side of the counter, watching her with a raised eyebrow. *Damn psychic powers!* she thought, knowing that even if he couldn’t get her actual thoughts he'd probably get her irritation. Stopping the pretence of work she turned to him and arched her own eyebrow.
Actually she wanted to talk in private with the Russian, and welcomed the time with him alone but hated to be predicted. There were too many telepaths, empaths, whatever, in her life lately.
If there was one thing that Nikolai was quickly becoming experienced with, it was nervousness. Everyone was nervous lately, it seemed. Or irritated or annoyed at all the things that were going on. When it wasn’t the virus, it was something else. At least now they were beginning to get a better idea of what they were up against.
Looking at Alessa for a few minutes, Nikolai studied the nervousness that she wore, trying to work on the exact details of it. Understanding the nuance of emotion would probably be of a great benefit when… at the feeling of irritation when she looked at him, he could take some guesses at what was causing it.
Still, if she was going to be annoyed with him, he might as well make it worth it.
Sighing, Nikolai leaned on the counter. “Is something bothering you, Alessa?” he asked carefully. “You seem somewhat… distracted this morning.”
"You could say that!" she retorted, but her irritation was quickly fading. "I'm sorry, Nik. I didn’t want to snap at you. Actually I need to talk to you."
Nikolai nodded in understanding, with nerves and irritation it was no surprise that she would be more short-tempered than usual. "There is no need to apologise, and you know I am willing to help however I can."
Alessa fidgeted with some papers over the counter, not looking at him. "Well, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I- I'll need some help." She raised her eyes and looked at him again.
"I told Delancre I knew who he was," she said - the sooner the thing was out the better. She just needed him to know. They were together in this, at least as much together as that damn infection allowed them to be.
Nikolai didn’t even bother to try hiding his look of surprise. Of all the things that she could have done, she had done that. It didn’t strike him as the brightest move, from what they knew of him and it would probably lead to questions such as how…
*I have to assume that all of my actions are being watched by Delancre now.* He asked the one question that he could think of asking. “Why?”
"Because Stuart wouldn’t be of much more use, I mean, what else could we have learnt from him? He'd just kept repeating the same mierda once and again." Alessa gripped the thick glass of the counter, and her knuckles went white with the pressure. "What would I have gained? Nothing."
She looked at her hands and realized she was about to break Reah's nice counter top. She relaxed her fingers. "If I'm going to do this, I just want it to be worthwhile."
Her words and emotions certainly seemed to be sincere, and he relaxed some. Which only increased his worry. After trying to put his finger on who exactly Delancre put him in mind of, the name finally occurred to him.
“I understand that, but you are playing a very dangerous game,” he cautioned. “Tovarisch Delancre puts me in mind of Lavrenti Beria far too much for comfort, or perhaps simply the ‘Great’ Stalin. You are sure you are capable of going through with this?”
"I don’t know," Alessa said with honesty. "But I'm doing it anyway. I think he bought my act last Saturday." She blushed, still ashamed of how easily she'd put up part of her 'act'. "Although I'd be naïve to think he's without suspicion, at least he didn’t kill me right there." She smiled nervously and added. "OK, bad joke."
Despite himself, Nikolai chuckled. Yes, she was lucky that he didn’t do anything, and Nikolai could feel her shame. *Just what did you have to do?* he wondered. Knowing that ‘Stuart’ had an interest in her that way and how she felt about it… “You are certain you can continue going through with this?” Nikolai asked. “I know how you felt when you realised who ‘Stuart’ was, Alessa. What happens if you can no longer hide your disgust?”
Nikolai had walked to be closer as they talked and she had to raise her head to look into his eyes. The man was correct but he wasn’t taking something else into consideration. She remembered again her last date with the First Elder and blushed once more. She felt like a puta. "The virus has its advantages, Nik. I didn’t find the task so disgusting."
“And what about when the virus is gone?” He raised an eyebrow, keeping his voice steady. “We’ll find a cure eventually. You can’t seriously think that when we start applying it, he won’t find out eventually… or that when he does find out, he won’t suspect that you’ve been cured.”
Nikolai was careful to avoid any sense of making a moral judgement on her actions; from her guilt, he knew that she had already done that more than likely.
Alessa had asked herself the same question, but there wasn’t a simple answer. She doubted she could go on with this as her normal self; in fact when she wasn’t close to the man she couldn’t really understand how she let him touch her and yet when she was with him… she shook her head, blushing again.
"Well, we aren’t close to a cure yet, so I wouldn’t worry about that. Yet. Let's cross that bridge when we get there." She sighed, "I can do it now, and by the time we find a cure I may not need to any more."
“Then again, it may also be possible that you will still have to,” he pointed out to her. Nikolai was trapped in the position of not wanting to alarm her, but of still trying to help. “And this virus making you more aggressive… the longer an operation goes on, the greater the chance you will make the one mistake. And believe me, spies can be caught over relatively simple errors. Errors as simple as using stainless steel staples, sometimes.”
"Stainless steel staples?" she asked, and waved her hand to stop his explanation before it even started. She was aware of his past as spy and he surely knew what he was taking about. But she was confident, and besides, as she had asked Kate, what was the worst that could happen that hadn't probably happened already? "I'll just try to avoid errors. Besides, this virus is what is making me good at this."
She looked up at him and not for the first time she appreciated his looks. Of course, he wasn’t strikingly handsome as Chance had been. Nik's good looks were more subtle, and there was this air of 'dangerousness' around him that was most exciting. Without being able to control herself she smiled and spoke. "Let me to show you how good I can be."
Nikolai raised an eyebrow at the suggestion, amazed that she would suggest it… and at his own reaction. He had known that Alessa was attractive before, but pushed those thoughts from his mind. No, the virus seemed to remove inhibitions.
“I think there’s been enough sleeping around,” he said with a joking smile. “If any more of my friends get together, it’ll be a regular soap opera around here.”
Alessa took a step backwards, blushing furiously. "I- I'm sorry, Nik. I don’t know what happened… I'm-" she turned around. The wave of desire that had gone through her had been all too real and she had to control herself. She laughed but there was no humor in her. "Actually we both know exactly what happened, don’t we?"
She turned around, and smiled weakly. "I guess my point was stated without much trouble."
“Don’t worry about it, I understand completely,” he said, feeling her get her desire under control by the embarrassment. Nikolai had to try to control himself as well, as the virus attempted to tug his strings as well. *How appropriate, that I should be locked in a struggle to find myself still, even without my guide.*
“This virus is the perfect weapon, you know,” he noted. “Removal of inhibitions… we spend all of our time fighting each other or causing problems with each other to find out what’s going on."
"Or bedding each other." She chuckled softly, it would be funny if it weren’t so true. "However, the deed is done. I already talked to Delancre. Maybe it wasn’t wise, but I'm sure it will be worthy."
She fingered her watch and then showed him the charm sewed to its inside. "But even if my 'willingness' to be with him isn’t faked, I'd still need some protection for my thoughts. I'll need more of these."
“That you would have to speak to Katya about, though she may require more samples of his hair.”
"That won't be a problem," she said, and held his stare. They both knew how she'd get them.
"I was just hoping you'd help me there too, I don’t know if she'll be as understanding." Alessa grimaced. "I did promise her not to do anything stupid, after all."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, May 14th
12:40 AM
Darian’s apartment.
The door to Cole’s bedroom creaked open as the young boy tiptoed out and down the hall. It was an ungodly hour to be awake, and the teen would have liked nothing more than to crawl into bed and rest, but the night was the only time he could get away without the fae knowing. There were still people Cole had vowed to apologize to, and even despite his beating at the hands of Ellis, he was resolute in keeping his oath.
Once the boy had successfully made it down from the apartment to street level, he jogged to the next alleyway where none of the Poplar residents could see, if they were by chance to look out their windows. Now out of sight, the young mage reached into his pocket for a small pebble.
*Here goes nothing.*
“Winds that blow across the sea,
Disturb the night, and come to me,
Charm this pebble into the sky
and give to it a seer’s eye.”
Cole winced briefly as the magic began to course through his veins; since Kate had stripped him of his stolen power, even the simplest spells seemed so difficult to perform. Pushing through the discomfort however, Cole finished, smiling widely as what was a rock seconds before now hovered in the air waiting for a command.
“Show me the way to him.”
* * *
2:06 am
A small, flickering light blossomed in the darkness, just enough to trace outlines in the room; the corpse, the knife, the blood.
The cigarette lit, Kyle took a moment to stare longingly at the flame, then flicked the lighter closed and took a long drag. He held, then slowly exhaled.
Putting the cigarette back between his lips, Kyle looked down at the corpse before him. Demonic, though he wasn’t certain what species. Idly he wondered for a moment as he breathed out the smoke, then dismissed it. A knife in the back had killed it all the same. Again, idly he briefly wondered what it had done to offend Delancre. The Watcher hadn’t told him, and he hadn’t asked. In fact, all he had asked was whether the demon kept vampires as bodyguards. Piles of dust scattered about the room were answer enough. Kyle couldn’t see them in the darkness, but he knew they were they. He had created them, after all.
“Glad to see you aren’t hurt,” a voice said from the darkness, pulling Kyle’s gaze away from the violent aftershock of the battle. Cole stepped through the threshold of the door into the warehouse, shuddering slightly as it reminded him of the building he and Vincent had fought in a month earlier; hopefully, this encounter would not end the same way. “Don’t you think its dangerous, taking on that many by yourself?”
Kyle stopped mid-drag, one hand clenching. *Well, well, well. Look who it is.* “It will be dangerous for you staying round here much longer,” he answered gruffly without even looking round.
The younger boy winced, the biting tone of Kyle’s words stinging as much as any punch. “Look Kyle, I didn’t come to argue with you, I came here to apologise.” Cole frowned when Kyle still did not turn to look back. “I know what I did was wrong, and I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.”
He sighed, not sure how to proceed. Unable to come up with anything more, the boy settled for short and sweet, “I’m sorry.”
*Oh, sorry is he?* Kyle thought cynically. *Sorry for trying to control my life? Oh, well that makes it all better then. I guess the old gang is sorry, too…* He broke off his train of thought there. It would take him to places he didn’t want to go.
His cigarette down to the filter, even though he hadn’t smoked most of it, Kyle tossed it onto the demon’s corpse and turned at last to face Cole. He noted the black eye, the swollen lip, the arm in a sling, all in one glance and didn’t say a word. *Guess somebody else beat me to it.* “You got a lot of nerve showing up around me. You tried to control me with magic, Cole. Tried to make me into nothing but a pawn. I bet that’s why you killed Vincent, wasn’t it? Couldn’t stand his own independence. Well, buddy, you can take your apology and get bent.”
Stalking forward, Kyle pushed past Cole, bumping into his shoulder and knocking the younger kid out of the way. But, interestingly, not hitting his wounded arm.
“Kyle, wait,” Cole called out. “You have to listen to me, you’re in a lot of danger.”
Luckily enough, the older boy halted his hasty exit, long enough for Cole to explain. “When I followed you to that mansion, I was hyped on a lot of power, Kyle. I could feel, see, hear things coming from the place, and none of it was good.” Cole’s tone was not the arrogant badgering Kyle was used to, but instead, scared and concerned. “I don’t know what you are doing with those people, but if you continue on, you’re going to get yourself killed.” The boy moved his gaze to the floor, the memories of Vincent’s body skewered on the rod flooding back. “I’ve lost too many friends Kyle, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
Slowly, Kyle turned around to face Cole. “Oh, no, no, no. Here we go again. I’m doing something you don’t want me to, and you don’t like it.” He held his arms open. “Go ahead, put me under a spell! Go on, you know it’s what you want to do.” Dropping his arms to his sides, his voice became laced with venom. “Maybe you wouldn’t keep losing friends if you didn’t try to kill them.”
Cole’s eyes flashed black only for a second, as dark energy started to rush through him, ready at any second to leap out onto the fire demon. Stumbling a few steps back, the mage fought down the urge. “Please Kyle, don’t…” Cole whimpered, his body shaking under the rising pressure.
Kyle’s face took on a mournful look and his tone turned mocking. “Please, Kyle, don’t…” he repeated, taking several menacing steps closer to Cole. “What’s the matter, does the truth hurt? Aww, such a shame. Well, maybe you should call on your dark gods to sort everything out, just like you always do. ‘Oh, no. The world isn’t how I want it to be, I’ll just chant a little and I’ll be the centre of the universe.’ News flash for you, Cole. You’re not. Nobody wants to hear about your problems, and begging certainly isn’t going to get you anywhere. So call on your dark gods. Do your worst!”
Kyle could feel magic clinging around him as he prepared for whatever enchantment Cole was summoning, but to his surprise, besides a slight tingling, there was nothing.
“Don’t give me reason, please… it’s already so hard,” the mage pleaded quietly, his hands shaking uncontrollably. “You don’t know what it’s like, Kyle, feeling the black magic pulling at you. It… it made me do so many things to people, people I care about, like you.” Cole thrust his hand in his pockets, as if afraid that at any moment, lightning would leap forth from them. “If I let it take over again Kyle, I won’t be able to come back from it.”
The Kaoshian’s eyes narrowed. They were fast straying into realms he didn’t understand at all. Instead he just shook his head and started walking away. “You keep to your excuses, Cole. I don’t want to hear it any more.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 15th May 2007 - 11:30am
The late morning sun beat down mercilessly on the troops as Ana put the recruits through their paces. This group was mostly filled with those demons who had joined the Watchers since they’d set up headquarters in Los Angeles, and some of them were yet to develop the smoothness of teamwork that the Colombian soldiers had. Of course, some of these ‘recruits’ were still undergoing their conditioning and weren’t fully on board with the mission. But they soon would be.
“Now hold that last position,” shouted Ana as she strode among the panting bodies. She used her stick to straighten the posture of one bright blue demon. “Like this,” she barked.
Returning to the front she surveyed the group and finally released them with a command. “Right, we’ll start again from the beginning. And I will stop you all the second I see just one of you fail to execute a move perfectly, until you all get it one-hundred-percent perfect. Capisca?”
“I’ll give you one hundred per cent perfect, you arrogant, stuck up wench,” Kyle muttered to himself under his breath, continuing the tirade as he reassumed the posture and went through the motions again. And yet, strangely enough, he continued the training. A testament to his ongoing conditioning; Kyle a few months ago would have lit up a smoke, given the Slayer the finger, and stormed off. So he continued with the other ‘recruits’. At least, that is, till he messed up.
Cursing from the moment he stumbled till the moment he hit the ground, Kyle could just feel Ana’s gaze burning into him. This was not about to get any more fun…
Thwack!
The stick landed sharply on Kyle’s back as Ana stood over him, blocking out the hot sun. That small respite, however, was a very tiny silver lining in an enormous black cloud. She glowered down at him, hands on her hips and an expression of disgust marring her features.
“Perhaps we should train you how to walk first,” she suggested with a mocking tone. “On your feet – and then why don’t you go through the kata solo until you get it right?”
Kyle growled, getting slowly to his feet. He had had enough. Turning, the demon stepped right up to Ana’s face. “I’ve got a better idea. Perhaps I should take that stick and shove it up your tight ass?”
Ana relaxed, a slow smile creeping across her face. “Sure,” she drawled, “Why don’t you try that? I think the boys could use a little demonstration, don’t you?”
“The only demonstration they’re going to get is what happens to Delancre’s little lapdog when she gets too big for her boots,” Kyle replied, his eyes narrowing. He was playing a dangerous game, baiting the Slayer, but so what? It was a thrill, and everything he’d heard about Slayers was most likely hearsay anyway… He could probably take her.
Ana’s first blow rocked him to his heels as it cracked across his jaw. Then her uppercut snapped his head backwards and made him stagger to his knees. That’s when she got nasty.
Whaling into Kyle, she slammed him into the ground repeatedly. Each time she knocked him down she prodded him with her toe to make him get up. As soon as he was halfway up her fist smashed into his face again. Blood sprayed in fountains and Ana’s lips curled back in a feral snarl of animal frenzy. All those days of having to be careful with the new soldiers, all those nights of not being able to wring that bitch Natasha’s neck, all those insults she’d been forced to put up with since they’d come to LA boiled up from within and manifested in the wet, smacking sound of knuckles on flesh as she pounded on Kyle.
Ana’s arm pulled back, preparing for another sadistic assault, but, to her dismay, the blow could not be delivered. A strong hand grasped just above the Slayer’s elbow, and tossed her backwards as if she was nothing more than a tiny rag doll.
“That’s enough Ana!” Darian growled, moving to stand in between the feral Slayer and the beaten down teen. He had just arrived at the mansion for some afternoon training when he saw the scene unfold; the Slayer brutalizing the poor kid as all the other demons watched on, none even slightly making a move to help him. It didn’t take long before he had seen enough, and ran over to put a stop to it.
Furious at the effrontery of the fae, Ana leapt to her feet in one smooth motion and glowered at him, and at Kyle who was rising to his feet and wiping the worst of the blood from his face. Then her master’s voice echoed in her head. She could just imagine what Sir Ambrose would say if he were watching her right now. And how disappointed he’d be in her.
Stifling her rage, she cast one warning glance at Darian and said, “You be careful around here. I’ll be watching you.”
Then she pretended he wasn’t even there and strode past him to where Kyle was now more or less vertical again. “As for you,” she hissed, “For insubordination you will be assigned to latrine duty for one full month… two if you open your mouth to me,” she added as Kyle let defiance show in his eye for a second.
Kyle spat out a great mouthful of blood, and probably a tooth, too. Damn, that Slayer could throw a mean punch. So badly beaten he was beyond pain, for some reason the demon found cause to laugh.
“Was that the best you could do?” he asked, trying to see through a hugely bruised eye. “You’re going to have to try harder - I’m still breathing.” Now he was definitely tempting fate, but he couldn’t give a damn. Ana could give him whatever duties she wanted; they didn’t mean a thing to him. He’d experienced her firsthand at her worst, and he’d lived through it. Sure, he was going to be in pain for a long while, but the Slayer had beaten him to a bloody pulp and he lived to tell the tale.
Just.
Deep down he knew that given half a chance, next time it would be different.
Ana’s laughter filled the area. “Oh, little Kaoshian demon, you have no idea what my best is.” She leaned towards him almost intimately and whispered, “And that’s two months latrine duty for you.”
She lifted her chin and barked, “Dismissed!” to the demons standing in solid ranks behind the tableau, then she fixed her gaze on Kyle again. “And you report to the latrines at oh-six hundred hours tomorrow.”
Whirling on her heel she stalked off, her back ramrod straight, though her tinkling laughter could still be heard floating back to them.
“Got quite a mouth on you kid,” Darian said, unable to conceal the tiny grin that sneaked its way to his lips. Sure, the boy had received a serious smackdown, but he stood up to Ana, and that was no small feat. Bending down slightly, Darian placed Kyle’s arm around his shoulder, trying to steady the teen before he collapsed over. “We should probably get you inside, make sure nothing’s seriously damaged.”
“You want to make something out of it too?” Kyle asked, shrugging off the hand. “I could have taken care of myself there, you know. The bitch would have gone down in the end. She just got an unfair headstart is all.”
Darian’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Although, given the boy’s attitude, the reaction wasn’t that surprising really. “Look buddy, I’m not here to start anything. I saw what was going down, and I thought maybe you needed a hand.”
Darian bit back his tongue, regretting what he had said. Commenting on the boy’s weakness would surely fetch more irritated responses. “I’m Darian, by the way,” the fae added quickly, not giving Kyle the time to respond to his earlier faux pas.
Kyle’s eyes narrowed. “Kyle,” he replied at length. Hell, if the guy was part of this set-up he’d find out his name anyway sooner or later. “We done here?”
Despite several bumps and bruises, the boy seemed to have regained full composure, and since he showed no signs of serious injury, Darian saw no reason to stick around and baby sit. “Well since you don’t really seem to want my help, then yeah I guess we are.”
Darian’s gut told him to make sure this Kyle was really ok, but he just didn’t have the energy. The whole Cole ordeal had left him exhausted and he just couldn’t put up with this boy’s attitude any longer. As Darian walked away, he turned slightly and called over his shoulder “You know, it’s a good thing to stand up for yourself, but you also have to know when to back down, otherwise one day you could land yourself in some serious trouble.”
“Serious trouble?” Kyle asked cynically, then snorted. “What kind of delusion you living in pal? I’m already in serious trouble. Backing down isn’t going to get me out of it. I’ve got to stand up for myself, because nobody will stand up for me or with me.” For a moment, he looked like he was going to say something else, then the demon shrugged and staggered off to the barracks.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday 13th May 2007 – 7pm
Daye forced herself to appear at ease as she prowled the corridors of the Council house. She’d arrived only a few minutes before, the limo dropping her off and ending the torturously silent ride from the airport. She still couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Marcus that might mend the terrible rift between them. But for now, there were more important worries on her mind, like maintaining this difficult illusion.
Since she’d walked through the front door, Daye had been the subject of too many frankly appraising stares from demons and men in various parts of the house. She’d tried to be flirtatious without issuing any unspoken invitations. This was a dangerous tightrope she was walking, but if she could find Ryan then she’d be okay. The problem was she had no idea where to find him. As she moved further and further into the emptier halls of the house, Daye grew more and more uncomfortable with her decision to come back here.
Robert Forth followed his charge dutifully, his face impassive, while his mind was a jumble of confusion. He’d realized on the plane that something was wrong, but he hadn’t been able to see clearly what that was until they’d gotten back to the Council house. Once Daye had dropped her bags off in her room and started wandering the halls, trying to appear aimless, but with a definite purpose, Robert had finally pinpointed what was bothering him.
He’d lost his sense of her tormentors. The spirits of her mothers that had plagued Daye, the focus of his power, had somehow disappeared. Robert suspected something had happened while the woman was with her lover in Aspen. He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but he was afraid that now that he had become unnecessary, Daye was searching for Lord Ambrose in order to have him removed from his current position.
Robert had been reticent about brazenly approaching the woman, but he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. His time was coming to an end. He’d have to take this opportunity to convince her of his talents. He wouldn’t have another.
As they rounded the corner of one of the less used halls in the house, somewhere on the third floor, Robert took a deep breath and stepped up closer to Amanda, preparing to speak. He would have the woman, one way or another.
“Hello Daye. Coming back from another of your trysts?”
Tash cocked her head at the scowling Robert who backed up a few steps from where he had been leaning towards Daye as though to either whisper to her or kiss her – Tash wasn’t sure which.
“Oh, what’s the matter Robert? Isn’t she letting you have any yet? Never mind, when she’s bored with the rest maybe she’ll turn to you for a change of pace.”
Tash laughed, expecting Daye to join in. On the couple of times they’d encountered each other over the past few days they’d both delighted in tormenting the hapless mage. Tash still thought the best had been when Daye had plunged her fingers deep into her core just after she’d returned from her latest demon conquest and smeared her goo-covered fingers down Robert’s face, telling him it was the closest he would ever get.
Robert scowled at Natasha, but refrained from saying anything. He wished there was some way he could bring the black bitch to her knees. The ultimate fantasy would be to have both of these bitches begging him for both mercy and release. If only he dared to unleash his magic on them, if only he didn’t live in fear of what the consequences of such an action might be.
Daye nearly grimaced at Tash’s harsh words. Robert Forth worked for Delancre, that was true, but that didn’t mean the poor man was evil or that he deserved any of the harsh treatment he’d received from either of them over the last few days. Her horrid behaviour to the man who had spent tireless hours keeping her sane was just another layer of guilt to add onto the many that were nearly burying her already.
Still, she had a façade to maintain. She smirked at Tash, hoping for the right amount of cocky sexuality. “I was just looking for... someone, a bit of a nightcap, if you will.”
Disgust? Pity? Guilt? Tash was nonplussed for a moment at the emotions she sensed from Daye. Where was the dark sexuality? Where was the wanton joy in tormenting the mage who dogged her footsteps? Speaking to cover the silence, she opened her shields a little further and responded to Daye’s remark as though she’d not detected anything unusual.
“Ah… can’t help you there, I’m afraid. But you won’t find many candidates up here – most of the local talent is down in the training arena.” Deciding to test the waters, she threw out the most repulsive suggestion she could think of, “But of course, you could always try one of the zombies. I’m sure Delancre won’t mind.”
Internally, Daye shuddered at Tash’s repugnant suggestion. Thankfully, even in her hyper sexual state, she had shown a marked preference for partners who were still alive. Daye trilled with laughter, hoping her delight didn’t sound too forced.
“That’s a uniquely Natasha suggestion, but I don’t think it’s what I’m hankering for tonight. I’ll keep it in mind for another time.” *And I’ll keep the fact that you obviously have the virus in mind, as well.*
Tash shrugged at Daye’s dismissal, ignoring the thought she’d ‘heard’ about the virus. Despite what people might think, she didn’t have it – couldn’t have it. She was behaving perfectly rationally. It was hardly as though she was going on a rampage of sexual conquest, was it?
“Well, all right. I just thought since you were into new experiences and all, it was something you hadn’t tried yet and might like to.”
Once Tash was over her indignation at the unspoken accusation of her ‘illness’, Daye’s obvious distaste sang to her and she wondered if somehow Daye had lost the virus from her system. The woman had just been off on a mystery weekend – apparently with Marcus, no less. It had been hard for Tash to hide her recognition of the necromancer’s name when Delancre had mentioned Daye’s whereabouts, but luckily Kate’s charm still seemed to be holding strong against the First Elder.
She glanced at Robert in annoyance. “Is there any way to get your little troll to piss off for a few moments while we have some girl talk?”
Daye glanced at Robert, who hovered directly behind her, so obviously listening in on their conversation. She turned to the man, wanting to extend some kindness, to make amends for her earlier nasty behaviour, but knowing full well she couldn't afford to let her cover slip even a little. She had to watch every word, gesture, and nuance now.
“Yeah, piss off,” Daye sneered. “Can't you see you're intruding? Why don't you go around the corner and play with your little thing while we have some fun?”
With a glare directed equally venomously at both Daye and Tash, Robert retreated reluctantly around a corner a little distance down the hallway. Tash slipped her arm into Daye’s and they strolled casually in the opposite direction. Knowing how Daye had admired her body on earlier occasions, Tash let her hip rub against Daye’s thigh as they walked.
“There, that’s much better. I don’t know how you put up with him skulking around behind you all day like that. But then, he keeps those ‘voices’ quiet doesn’t he?” Tash began loudly, then dropped her voice to a lower tone. “But then, do you still need him? You seem a little… different today, sweetie.”
Daye felt fear grip her heart at Tash's seemingly innocent words. Had she slipped up already? Did Tash know, or at least suspect? *I can't trust her,* Daye thought. *She's infected. She's bound herself tightly to that bastard Delancre. I don't know what she might do.*
Daye glanced up at Tash from beneath her lashes. She'd try for distraction and misdirection. “I do feel very good,” she purred. “All that crisp mountain air must have agreed with me. Still, I'd be afraid to find out what might happen if Robert weren't nearby,” Daye admitted, her tone suggested revealing a confidence to a trusted friend. “After all, magical maladies don't just disappear, do they? No, it's best if I wait for Ambrose and his people to discover what's caused my troubles of late and then help me put a permanent end to them. For now, I try not to think about it.”
Daye laughed girlishly. “There are so many more... important things to think about.” Daye ran her hand lightly up Tash's arm. She attempted to appear turned on by her friend. Tash had never taken her up before, so Daye hoped this was the safest course of action.
The triumphant laughter that rose up inside Tash she let escape as a flirtatious giggle. *Well, well. Let’s just see if I can’t call your bluff.* Casting her mind back to that night with Onyx, Tash let Daye’s touch elicit a shiver in response.
“You’re right,” she said coquettishly, turning to the statuesque witch and tilting her chin up to meet Daye’s eyes, “There could be so many other things we could think about right now.”
Lifting a hand, she trailed her fingertips down the soft lines of Daye’s jaw and over her throat. She pressed her body closer to Daye and let her breathing quicken a little at the contact.
At the first intimate touch of Tash's body against her own, Daye's mind went utterly blank. She had been so sure that Tash would turn her down again. *Now what the hell am I gonna do?* was Daye's first panic stricken thought. *I can't... we can't...*
Tash stared into Daye’s terror-filled eyes and grinned. “What’s the matter, Daye? Have you suddenly lost your appetite?”
She grabbed Daye’s hand and pressed it against her breast. “There, isn’t that what you’ve wanted to feel all these days? Aren’t you longing to feel my naked breasts pressed against yours? Unless…”
Tash stepped back a fraction and chuckled menacingly, “Unless you’re just playacting.”
*Shit. She knows,* Daye realized abruptly. There was no use in even trying to deny it. Tash, somehow, knew the truth. *What do I do now? How do I approach this?*
“I... are you going to run and tell Delancre then?" Daye asked dismally. As much as she'd hate to do it, if it came down to it, she'd use her magic on Tash. She would incapacitate the other woman just long enough to make her escape. In so doing, of course, she'd set off all the bells and whistles and bring the whole damn house running. *Goddess, please don't let it come to that.*
“That depends.” Tash’s eyes glittered. Here was an opportunity to gain yet another card in her hand. “If you can learn to improve your acting and stop broadcasting your true feelings everywhere you might just be able to fool Delancre for a while – and I may find one or two uses for you.”
Daye was taken aback by Tash's coldly manipulative words. She knew in her head that her friend was sick, but that didn't stop the disappointment flooding her heart. *This is how my friends have been feeling,* she thought. *And Kate! Goddess, what I did to her is so much worse.*
“I... I plan on doing my best,” she stammered. “I just need a little time, Tash. If you cover for me, I'll owe you.”
“Oh yes. You’ll owe me, all right.”
Tash steered Daye back the way they’d come, staying close by the other woman’s side. As they approached their original position she pressed herself against Daye once more, for Robert’s benefit, and purred, “Let me see you later tonight, and we’ll take this discussion a little further.”
She reached up and kissed Daye, her tongue sliding past Daye’s teeth and her hands roaming over the woman’s buttocks. Tash could almost feel Robert’s gaze upon them as he no doubt fantasised about having the two of them together.
Moving her face so her cheek rested alongside Daye’s, Tash whispered in her ear. “Relax. Think of England or whatever you people do. If you can’t go through with anything with the demons, just make out you’ve got something important to work on for Delancre.”
Pulling back with a sultry smile on her lips, Tash breathed, “I’ll find you in your room tonight, then?”
Daye endured Tash's intimate embrace, fully aware that if she couldn't manage to at least feign enthusiasm for this sort of thing, then she was wasting her time altogether. She really needed to find Ryan.
“Mmmm, I can't wait.” Daye glanced at Robert out of the corner of her eye, not surprised to see his tongue was all but lolling out of his head.
She turned her attention back to the man. “Let's go,” she ordered. “I want to take a quick look on the field again.”
As the pair turned to leave, Robert shuffling sullenly behind Daye, Tash called after her, “Now don’t go finding some handsome demon to take my place. I’ve got dibs on you tonight.”
Daye turned and blew Tash a kiss. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
daye convinces ryan to help
*** Sunday, May 13, 2007, 8 pm ***
*** The Training Field of the Council House ***
The Nightwalker stood beside the rapidly emptying field, his eyes drawn to where Amanda Blaise had just stepped off the back stairs and was standing now, scanning the field. As it had every time he’d witnessed one of her “talent searches”, Nightwalker felt anger churn in his belly. This woman, once his woman, was indiscriminately sleeping her way through the ranks of the Watchers’ Corps. She’d taken to inviting multiple warriors back to her room each night, and he’d passed close enough to her in the halls on a couple of occasions to see the bruises and scratches she sported from her adventures. It wasn’t right. If this continued much longer, Amanda would end up dead at the hands of one of Delancre’s beasts.
Nightwalker watched as Amanda began to stride across the practice field, headed in his general direction. He grimaced. There were only a handful of demons left nearby him, and all of them were among the most violent, most vicious in his command. *I have to try and stop her again,* Nightwalker thought, moving forward.
Daye saw Ryan begin to move in her direction, and she felt weak with relief. Finally, something was going right. Now, if she could just convince him to head back to her room, she could speak to him in private. The key to enlisting his aid in this deception was in making everyone else believe she’d simply singled him out for a liaison, while somehow managing to convince him to speak to her away from prying ears.
Daye reached Ryan, noting that the other demons still on the field were observing them openly. She had shown no interest in Ryan, and as a field commander he was respected by his troops. Though none had ever asked her directly, she knew rumors and theories raged around the estate as to their previous relationship. Many knew that she and Ryan had known each other in the past.
“Ryan,” Daye pitched her voice low. “I was hoping to find you here. I’ve been looking all over the place for you.”
Daye painted a pretty pout on her mouth and leaned forward so that her body brushed against the demon’s. She wanted both the others on the field, and Robert on her tail, to believe she was trying to entice Ryan to her bed. That was part of the plan, part of the cover she had in mind.
“Amanda.” Nightwalker tried to keep his voice neutral. Daye was dressed as skimpily as usual. She was looking up at him, her lips pursed, her breasts brushing his chest, but there was something different in her eyes. She was the coquette in every other way, but her eyes betrayed nerves and… a plea?
“I was thinking maybe you’d change your mind,” she said softly. “I’d like you to come back to my room with me… for old time’s sake.”
Nightwalker couldn’t mistake the particular emphasis she’d just placed on those last few words. What was she up to? What was Amanda trying to tell him? Was she setting him up? He should never have gone to her and apologized. He’d put himself in a precarious position. If she’d decided to reveal his change of heart to Delancre, then he would be lost. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
“I see,” he replied noncommittally. His mind was racing. What should he do? If he went to Amanda’s room, there might be a trap waiting, but then again, if she wanted to unmask him couldn’t she just as easily do so in front of everyone? She wanted to get him alone. Perhaps she had decided to use her knowledge for some other reason. Perhaps she had her own agenda here.
“All right, Amanda, for old time’s sake.” Nightwalker took her hand and tucked it into his arm. He glanced at Robert, but dismissed the man almost immediately. Whatever happened, he wasn’t worried about the little weasel.
Daye almost sighed aloud in relief. She recovered at the last minute, smiling seductively. She let Ryan lead her off the field, feeling for the first time all night that she was suddenly on safer ground. She didn’t say anything until she’d ensconced him in her bedroom, with Robert safely in the sitting room behind the closed door. As soon as she felt they were safe, Daye slipped away from Ryan and turned to face him.
“I’m so glad you decided to come,” she said sincerely, pitching her voice low. “I was afraid it would be much harder to convince you.”
“I’m curious,” Nightwalker shrugged. “I came to find out what new game you’re playing, Amanda.”
Daye frowned. She supposed she deserved Ryan’s distrust, considering the way things had gone the last time they had spoken. She just hoped he would understand, or at least be willing to put aside any hurt feelings in order to help her. If not, this whole charade would be so much harder for her to pull off.
“This is no game, Ryan,” she replied. “I need to explain. If you’ll just listen, without interrupting. I’ve got one unbelievable story to tell you. After I’m done, well, then you can feel free to unload whatever you’ve got on me.”
*She sounds so… different,* Nightwalker thought. *So much more like herself.*
Nightwalker nodded, settling in the single chair near the dressing table. “All right, go on.”
Daye took a deep breath and then launched into her tale. She told Ryan everything she knew, everything she suspected, and exactly what she had planned. Although a myriad of emotions flitted across his face as she spoke, Ryan managed to remain silent until she came to the end. When she stopped speaking, though, he jumped to his feet and began pacing.
“I… I can’t believe this,” he said softly.
“I know,” Daye said sympathetically. “It is a pretty incredible story.”
Nightwalker shook his head once, decisively. He turned to face Daye and for the first time she realized he was nearly shaking with barely contained fury. “How could you be so stupid? How could you come back here? Don’t you realize how much danger you’re in?”
Daye was speechless at first. He was angry with her for coming back to the house. He… he sounded like Marcus. Didn’t anyone appreciate the fact that she was a grown woman, an intelligent, powerful witch? She didn’t need to ask permission to take risks. She had every right to take a stand here, to make a move. Why was Ryan, like Marcus before him, just dismissing her out of hand?
“Excuse me,” she replied coldly. “I don’t think you have any right to speak to me that way. How dare you?”
“You want my help,” Nightwalker replied flatly. “And though you have it, you had no way of knowing that I would agree to help you. This Marcus guy, some friend he is, allowing you to do something so reckless. You should have gone home. Drew... he’s waiting for you. So’s your daughter.”
“Our daughter,” Daye said softly. She didn’t like the reminder of Maia. *I very nearly turned her over to the devil himself,* she thought. *I have to make sure he’s stopped before it’s too late.*
Nightwalker’s face filled with pain at her words. He didn’t need to hear that. He knew. Maia was his daughter too. He’d schemed and manipulated her into existence, hadn’t he?
“You can’t think to accomplish anything by being here, Amanda,” Nightwalker’s voice was edged with disbelief. “Let me get you out of here now, before you endanger yourself any more. If you go now, Delancre won’t find out until you’re already safe.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Daye snapped. “I’m not leaving. With or without your help, I’m going to find out exactly what Delancre has up his sleeve. I have to try and put an end to his machinations. If I don’t, then Maia will always be in danger. Surely you can see that.”
*What I can see, clearly, is that you are angry,* Nightwalker thought. Amanda was furious at the manipulation and deception of Lord Delancre. She had perhaps convinced herself that coming back to this place was the wisest course of action, but Nightwalker could see that she wanted revenge. That was a bad place to start from.
“I don’t think you’re being reasonable, Amanda,” he said. “You aren’t safe here. How do you expect to convince anyone that you still have this virus? Are you going to be willing to drag hordes of demons up here and… I just don’t see you going through with it, Daye.”
Daye didn’t miss the use of her nickname, any more than she missed the evident doubt in Ryan’s voice. “That’s where you come in,” she replied. “I thought if I brought you up here each night, if we were to pretend, for the benefit of prying eyes, then at least I wouldn’t have to worry about any… physical encounters.”
Nightwalker considered her carefully. Daye was determined to go through with this foolishness. He could stand here arguing with her until the sun came up, but it would do no good. He could see that all too clearly.
“All right,” Ryan’s agreement was obviously under duress. “I’ll help you, but I insist on certain ground rules.”
Daye’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Such as?”
“Don’t go wandering around the house without me,” he said. “I want to be close by you to make sure you are safe at all times.”
Agreeing to that would make it very difficult for Daye to seek out information. It would also mean that she would be stuck in her room most of the time. That wasn’t acceptable. She needed Ryan’s help, though, so she nodded. *I’m sorry, Ryan, but I can’t stick by your rules.*
Ryan accepted Daye’s nod as agreement. “And I don’t want you to tell anyone else about any of this,” he said. “It’s my neck in the noose alongside yours, and I don’t want to be caught out just because you’re too trusting.”
Daye thought of Tash. The other woman was due soon. “Uhm… I can’t promise that. Tash knows.”
“Natasha?” Nightwalker grimaced. “That’s just great. She can’t be trusted, you know. She’s practically seated at Delancre’s right hand.”
Daye nodded. “I think she’s suffering from the effects of the virus. She’s my friend. I’ve known her a long time. She’s not acting like herself.”
Daye paused, looking thoughtful. “Tash has an agenda here, though. She’s got something up her sleeve, something that doesn’t mesh with Delancre’s plans, I’ll bet. She’s coming to my room tonight, to discuss… how I can repay her for keeping my secret, I suppose. She seems to think I’ll be useful in some way to whatever she’s got planned. So… we’ll be safe there.”
Nightwalker didn’t feel all that safe. Adding Natasha to the mix only made this little game more dangerous. He wished there was some way to convince Daye to give it up, but he knew her better than that. “Fine,” his tone was abrupt. “I want to be here when you talk to the woman, though.”
“I don’t know…” Daye began, but Ryan cut her off.
“This is not a negotiable point, Amanda.” His tone brooked no argument. “I need to know exactly what is going on to keep you safe. I won’t accept anything else.”
Daye nodded. She had to admit to herself, at least, that she was comforted knowing she had Ryan on her side. It wasn’t as scary now that she wasn’t alone in this viper’s nest.
Daye sat on the edge of the bed, blowing out a breath in relief. “Ok, well, Tash should be here soon.”
“I’ll need to stay in your room with you for a few hours at a time from now on.”
Nightwalker settled back in the chair, ignoring the bed Amanda was sitting on the edge of. He wouldn’t allow himself to think of the past. Being alone with Daye, now that the argument was at an end, reminded him too much of how he felt for the woman. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in the past. There was too much at stake.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 13th May 2007 – 9:15pm
Tash rapped firmly on the door to Daye’s suite and cast an icy stare at Robert, who opened the door with a strange smirk on his face. He’d been waiting for this moment, when the haughty black bitch arrived to find that Amanda hadn’t saved herself up for her alone after all.
“Oh yes, Natasha. Miss Blaise is expecting you.”
There was something the mousy little mage wasn’t telling her, Tash could tell. But she couldn’t be bothered trying to work out what it was. There was no sense of imminent danger, so she simply swept past Robert and into the room. She approached the door to Daye’s bedroom, speaking over her shoulder at him as she lifted a hand.
“I will know if you’re listening at the door, you little pervert. So keep well back if you want to keep all your equipment,” she cast a derisive glance down to his mid-section. “Such as it is.”
Turning her back on Robert as though he no longer existed, Tash rapped lightly on Daye’s door.
Daye stood, and Ryan shot to his feet at the exact same moment. She shook her head at him. He didn’t look happy, but he refrained from attempting to answer the door himself. Daye moved across the bedroom. She stopped before the door, took a deep breath and laid her hand on the doorknob. She braced herself for Tash’s entrance. The other woman would surely be unhappy to find Ryan here, but Daye had been unable to convince him to leave. If he was going to be a party to her mad plan, then Ryan insisted on staying close by her as much as possible. He also insisted on keeping an eye on Tash.
Swinging the door open, Daye pasted a welcoming smile on her face and struggled to control her nervousness. “Please, come in, Tash.”
Tash smiled seductively for Robert’s benefit, and vowed to give Daye a lesson on how to mask her emotions, when her brain registered the other occupant of the room and she stopped in shock. Indignation and outrage seemed appropriate, which was just as well because that was exactly what she was feeling anyway.
“What the hell is he doing here?” she demanded hotly.
Tash could almost see Robert’s sneer behind her back and swept into Daye’s bedroom to keep the nosy mage out of it as much as possible.
“Daye,” she whirled on the woman, “It was supposed to be just the two of us!”
She grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it shut, cutting off Robert’s view of the room. Quieter, Tash turned to face Ryan, though her irritation was only a fraction less than that she’d just displayed for the benefit of their audience.
“Nightwalker, you have no business being here. You should leave.” Nightwalker was Ana’s second – surely Daye couldn’t be so stupid as to have told him of her recovery? Surely not!
Nightwalker stared impassively at Natasha. He had anticipated the woman’s reaction fairly well. Surely she was thinking that Amanda would be easy prey now that she was cured. He was going to make sure that neither Natasha nor any of Delancre’s other enemies started trying to use Amanda for their own ends.
“Tash, please, calm down.” Daye’s voice was steady. She risked placing a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. “I... invited Ryan here. He... he knows about me... about what’s going on. He’s going to help me.”
Tash scoffed. “Oh, from the goodness of his heart, no doubt. Do I have to remind you that he was the one who tried to sacrifice you to an ancient goddess? He’s one of Delancre’s favourite pets…”
Tash trailed off as she turned her concentration to Ryan and looked beyond his surface projection, probing deeply. “Except… you’re not any more, are you?”
Nightwalker shifted uncomfortably. He had worried for quite a while now that Natasha, or any one of the number of mind readers in the mansion, would detect the truth he’d so struggled to hide. Still, if he expected to help Daye out, then he would have to take some risks.
“Funny thing about dying,” Nightwalker replied gruffly. “it gives you a whole new outlook on things.”
Well, well. Tash was pleased. Not just one new card, but two to add to her growing deck. The bargain she was prepared to make for Daye would hold equally well for Nightwalker – unspecified assistance in return for keeping their secrets from Delancre. A smile spread across her face and she nodded at Ryan.
“All right, then. So, neither of you want to be discovered. You’ve obviously been doing it for a while and have learned how to blend, but you,” she turned to Daye, “have changed quite a bit. It’s just as well you’ve got Nightwalker here to look out for you – you may need him. In fact,” her brow furrowed, “he could be handy cover if everyone thinks you’ve found the one demon in Delancre’s army who can keep you satisfied.”
Daye struggled to control the blush rising to her cheeks at Tash’s words. She had, of course, been thinking along just those lines, but having Tash come to that conclusion only reinforced for her exactly what everyone in the mansion thought of her. *I’ve been a right slut and I have to pretend I still am one.* Still, it would be worth it, whatever discomfort or degradation she had to suffer, if it meant she might dig up some useful dirt on Delancre.
“That’s precisely what I was thinking,” Daye admitted. “I was actually looking for Ryan when I ran into you earlier. I figure, if he spends every night with me, then maybe I can throw off suspicion for a while.”
“I think this is all a really bad idea,” Nightwalker interjected. He was eyeing Tash suspiciously. From where he stood, the woman was as dangerous as Delancre, and now that she knew their secret, she was more so. “I tried to convince her just to leave, but she’s being stubborn so… I’ve agreed to help.”
Nightwalker paused. He made sure to put particular emphasis on his next words. “I don’t want to see anything happen to Daye. That’s the only reason I'm even going along with this scheme.”
Tash’s smile was supercilious. “Of course you don’t want anything bad to happen to her. Neither do I.” *Well, not unless it suits my plans, anyway.*
“But it’s dangerous to try to hide things from Delancre. By not rushing to tell him that both of you are recovered, I’m putting myself at almost as much risk as the two of you are in. If he found out that I’d been keeping that information to myself… well, you know what he’s like.”
Tash’s eyes glittered as she continued, “So really, it has to be worth my while to run that risk for you.”
Daye nodded immediately, but Nightwalker looked wary. He was hesitant to enter into a deal with this woman. Although Daye thought of Natasha as a friend, Nightwalker had no reason to trust her.
“What exactly is it that you want?” he asked. “I want to know what I’m agreeing to first.”
“Oh, nothing terrible, I’m sure.” Tash waved her hand airily. “But, for instance, perhaps there might be times when it would be better for me if Delancre or Ana were occupied with something for a while. Having someone capable of creating a suitable diversion could be a handy thing.”
“I suppose that’s not so much to ask,” Nightwalker allowed. “And I’m sure you know that I have access... perhaps to places or information you might not. I can see us working something out, on one condition.”
Smirking, Tash couldn’t help but think about how much she did know. For instance, she wondered whether either Daye or Nightwalker had any clue that Delancre needed their child to fulfil his goals. Or indeed, what Delancre intended to become. Expanding her own plans to accomplish not just the position of ruler of the world, but to wrest that godhood from Delancre, would require the services of many such underlings as Nightwalker. A tragic necessity, in her view.
“Well, you’re obviously dying for me to ask so I’ll indulge you, since you’re being so gracious and all. What’s the condition?”
“I want you to understand that under no circumstances are you to cause Daye any harm, or to allow harm to come to her because of your actions.” Nightwalker approached Tash, his scarred face serious and menacing. “There is nothing, I repeat, nothing in any of this for me. I’ve got nothing left to lose. Daye’s safety is my only concern now.”
“Ease up, little man,” Tash laughed, unafraid. “There’s no gain in it for me to harm Daye. Or you, for that matter,” she continued, her face becoming more serious. “Believe me, my only action against either of you would be to turn you in to Delancre, and he’d get you so fast there’d be nothing you could do to me.”
She folded her arms and shook her head. “No, so long as you play your parts you’ll be fine. All I ask for is information, if you have any, and assistance when I ask it. Simple. Now, do you want me to help with shielding Daye’s emotions a little, or do you have that under control yourselves?”
Nightwalker considered the other woman’s offer. He really didn’t trust Natasha at all, no more than he had when she’d walked into the room. Still, Daye was not doing a great job of keeping things under wraps. Left to her own devices, Nightwalker wasn’t sure Daye could carry off this charade for even a day.
“Daye?” Nightwalker looked at her, the question obvious. He couldn’t make this decision for her. It would have to be her choice.
Daye considered what Tash was offering. Tash was suffering from the virus, Daye was nearly sure of it. So, the question was, could Tash’s assistance really be trusted? Should Daye accept her offer to help? Before all this virus business, Daye had been pretty good at shielding herself. It was something she’d worked on after the trouble with Mother Mariah. Now, though, after the emotional roller coaster she’d been on lately, Daye knew her shields were battered.
*I can’t afford to say no to help,* Daye thought. *Even if I’m afraid.* “If you think you can help me shore up my defences, Tash, then I’d be glad for the help,” she said.
Neither Nightwalker’s nor Daye’s internal struggles had passed unnoticed, and Tash smiled. They were afraid of her – good. It would help to keep them in line.
“All right. I can’t do any spells, but I’ve been improving my telepathic abilities of late. What I can do is maybe strengthen your shields a little from within. You don’t have to open up to let me into your mind, but it’ll be less painful.”
Tash had barely finished her brief explanation when she sent the first tendrils into Daye’s mind. Daye gasped slightly at the intrusion, but her crumbling walls offered little resistance and she quickly realised the truth of Tash’s words. As soon as she stopped resisting, the discomfort eased considerably.
Mostly Tash wove defences for the woman, helping to build up Daye’s tattered shields. But she just couldn’t resist skimming through some of the stronger memories she encountered, and the smile that grew on her face wasn’t only from the satisfaction of a job well done, but at some of the tidbits she’d garnered. It was only fair, really – it was just the first instalment of Daye’s payment, if you looked at it that way.
Before long Tash withdrew from Daye’s mind and surveyed her handiwork. “There, how does that feel now?”
Daye could feel the difference immediately. Her mental shields were much stronger now. She could reinforce them more herself as well. That would make things much easier. “Thank you, Tash,” Daye said sincerely. She smiled at her friend. “I appreciate your help.”
“Any time.”
Tash was beginning to think that having friends without the virus might be better than having friends with the virus. They were so much more gullible this way. Casting a glance at Nightwalker, Tash moved towards the door.
“Well, time for me to go, I think. I’ll let you two lovebirds get reacquainted.”
Taking a deep breath, Tash began to yell, “No, dammit! The agreement was that it was just the two of us!” She opened the door as she continued to fume, “Fuck the both of you – in fact, no. Daye, you bitch, I’ll make sure no other goddam demon will even dare look at you from now on! You like this ugly piece of shit so much, you can keep him. He’ll be the only thing you do get to fuck any more.”
She stormed out, slamming the door hard behind her, and growled at Robert’s smirking face as she went past him. Stopping, she glared at him until he shrank back from her in fear, then she let her face soften.
“Oh, Robert, she scorns you all the time too, doesn’t she?” Rubbing the palm of one hand across her nipples, Tash purred, “Maybe we should make our own fun out here, just to spite those two?”
Robert’s eyes widened, and Tash could swear she even saw drool beginning to form at the corner of his mouth as she sashayed towards him, licking her lips seductively. Once she was close enough she ran one hand down his chest, across his ample belly, and cupped him in the palm of her hand.
Robert’s moan of delight quickly turned to a sharp yelp of pain as Tash dug her fingernails in and squeezed as hard as she could.
“Pfft. As if,” she mocked as she stalked from the suite.
ryan and daye talk about the past and the future
*** Sunday, May 13, 2007 11:11 pm ***
Daye sat on the bed, watching Ryan without speaking. He had settled back into the armchair once Tash left and he appeared to be brooding.
“Why did you say that?” Daye finally asked. She hadn’t been able to get his words out of her head. *There is nothing, I repeat, nothing in any of this for me. I've got nothing left to lose.*
“Say what?” Nightwalker asked, not even glancing up at her. Being with Daye in these close quarters was hard for him. It made him think too much about the past, about the things he’d lost.
“That you’ve got nothing to lose,” she replied. “You sound as if you think you don’t believe there’s anything left worth living for.”
“That’s because I don’t,” Nightwalker admitted. “Daye, look at me. Do you think I believe in a ‘happily ever after’? Look at what Delancre did to me, to us. The only thing left that I want is to see him suffer, and revenge is nothing to live for.”
Daye frowned. Ryan’s words hurt her deeply. She had loved him once, more than anything else in the world, and although that love was in the past for her, she understood that for him that past was hardly forgotten. Their love had been what Delancre had used as a weapon against Ryan. The bastard had taken all the good in Ryan and twisted it to evil, and now that he was free of Delancre’s conditioning, Ryan felt that there was nothing left for him.
“I think that you’re wrong,” Daye said. “I-I’m looking at you. Do you know what I see?”
Nightwalker laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, sure I do. I’ve looked at myself a time or two. I see what I’ve become - the monster looking back at me.”
Daye stood up and moved across the room to stand before Ryan. She reached out and gently took his face in her hands, looking into his eyes, at once so familiar and so strange. “No… I see you. You’re still there. Delancre, his manipulation, it could never make you into something else. You’re here, aren’t you? You broke free and you’re here.”
Nightwalker felt shocked to the core at her touch and her words. Daye was looking down at him, and he recognized the love and pride in her eyes. She’d once looked at him that way before. His heart swelled. This was the woman he loved. Without really thinking about it, Nightwalker covered her hands with his own. “How can you see me underneath all this?” he asked. “The scars are so deep. They cover me… they overtake me.”
“No, never,” she refuted his words. “That could never happen. You are a good man. You always were. None of this could ever change that, not really. That’s why you’re here now. That’s why you’re helping me.”
“I’m helping you because I love you,” Nightwalker admitted gruffly. He stood, causing Daye to step back quickly. His hands moved to her face and he bent to bring his lips to hers. Daye was taken by surprise, and suddenly Ryan was kissing her with all the longing he’d held in check for years.
Daye didn’t react at first. She was too shocked. She stood stock still while Ryan caressed her mouth with his own. Finally, though, his kiss registered with her brain. Daye tore her mouth from beneath his and stepped away.
“You… we can’t… Ryan, I’m sorry,” she said, staring incredulously at him. “I’m engaged to another man. I… what we had… that was a long time ago. I still care for you. I’ll always care for you, but I can’t… we can’t…”
Nightwalker watched her struggling and wanted to take the kiss back. He knew that it had been wrong. Daye wasn’t his any more. He had no right to make demands on her, and that damn kiss had been an unspoken demand. “I know, Amanda,” he said, moving back to the chair and dropping into it. He didn’t look up at her.
“I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t know why I did that.”
“I understand,” Daye replied. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. You’ve been alone for so long, and you’ve been lied to and manipulated. I understand how you must feel, how you must want to connect to someone. And we… we had something once, something amazing. Just because I don’t feel that way any more doesn’t mean I don’t remember.”
Nightwalker looked up at her then. Daye stood near the bed, her eyes glistening with tears. *She feels sorry for me,* he thought. *How can she? After what I’ve done to her, after all that, how can she feel anything for me at all?*
“I… Sometimes all that kept me going was thinking about you,” he said. “I wanted to punish you for so long. I wanted to make you feel the pain that I felt. I thought you’d hurt me, that you’d tortured me and laughed about it. It was the laughter that hurt me the most.”
“Delancre… he twisted your mind,” she said softly.
“I was one of the first,” Nightwalker sighed. “He perfected his conditioning on me. I was the first successful demonic soldier, the first to be created to serve in the Watchers’ Corps. When I came to L.A. two years ago, it was because Delancre had sent me. He’d arranged for my ‘escape’. It was a test to see how well the training would hold up in a stressful situation. If I was willing to hurt you, then that proved his techniques were successful. Obviously, he was very pleased with the results.”
“What happened after that?” Daye asked. “I thought you were dead. Galen… he killed you.”
“Delancre found me on the pier, my body anyway,” Nightwalker explained. “He wasn’t ready to lose his favorite ‘toy soldier’, so he had his mages resurrect me. I don’t recommend coming back from the dead. It’s a painful process.”
“After you came back, that’s when the conditioning broke down, right?” Daye guessed. It made sense. From everything she knew about death and rebirth, the resurrected were never exactly the same as the person they had once been. Often such cases resulted in some inherent difference. She would have bet that his death and rebirth were the catalyst for Ryan’s freedom from Delancre’s control.
Nightwalker nodded. “After I awoke, I found myself trapped in my demonic form, but the ritual had scarred my body. It had also somehow changed my mind. I began to recognize that I had two conflicting sets of memories. One were the ones I’d always believed to be true and the others were actual memories of the events that occurred after Delancre discovered us together that night in the cottage. I soon realized that the latter were the true memories, and the former had been created by magic and manipulation to enslave me to Delancre’s cause.”
Daye shivered involuntarily. She couldn’t believe the depths to which Lord Delancre had sunk. The man had played puppet master, pulling all their strings with malice.
“Now I’m reconciling the truth to the lies,” Nightwalker continued. “And finally realizing all that Delancre has stolen from me.”
“The man is-” Daye began.
“He’s evil, Amanda,” Nightwalker cut in. “He’s pure evil. He lusts for power.”
“He wants Maia,” she blurted out.
“What?!” Nightwalker jumped to his feet. “What are you talking about? Why would he want Maia? Where did you get that idea?”
“It’s true,” Daye replied. “I realized it this weekend. That’s what this has all really been about.”
Daye told Ryan about the Prophecies of Dynos and her own role in them. She explained all that she knew to him. By the time she had finished, he was sitting once again, shaking his head in stunned disbelief.
“I… I didn’t realize,” he said. “Maia… she was… I feel so bad about what I did, about using you. I never realized that you might feel differently about it all. But, you do, don’t you. You love that little girl. You don’t even care where she came from.”
“No,” Daye smiled fondly. “It doesn’t matter. She’s my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” Nightwalker said softly, echoing the words she’d thrown at him earlier. “Technically, she’s my daughter too, isn’t she? I’m her father.”
“She doesn’t know about you, Ryan,” Daye admitted. “I’ve never told her anything about you. She thinks of Drew as a father now.”
Nightwalker wanted to rage against her words. Maia was his child, not Drew’s. Drew had no right to her. He already had Daye, his woman, the woman he had once dreamed of making his wife. Why should the man have his child as well?
*Because you don’t deserve her.* Nightwalker could not ignore his inner voice. *She was a pawn to you. You created her out of revenge, not love. Drew accepted her out of love. You have no right to her or to anything else. There is nothing left for you.*
“I won’t interfere,” Nightwalker said gently. “I know there’s no place for me now. I just want to make sure you’re safe, and that Maia is safe. I want to stop Delancre from ever doing this to anyone else again.”
“And after that?” Daye asked. It sounded as if Ryan didn’t plan on surviving whatever came next, as if he wanted to curl up somewhere and die once he’d fulfilled his duty. “What are you going to do when all this is over? Will you… will you come and meet your daughter?”
Nightwalker was amazed at the question. Why would Daye want him anywhere near Maia after all he’d done?
“I… I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I don’t know what comes next for me. I don’t have anywhere, I don’t have anyone.”
“You’re wrong,” Daye declared, moving over to where he sat once again. She put her hand on his shoulder, offering comfort and hope. “You have Maia… and me. I’ll always be a part of your life, whatever you choose to do.”
“But what can I do?” he asked, his eyes on hers. “What is there for me?”
“What do you want, Ryan?” Daye’s question went deeper than the words alone. She was asking him to look inside and see what it was that waited there for him.
“To go home,” Nightwalker whispered, his thoughts full of green spring meadows that matched exactly the color of Daye’s eyes. He remembered a tiny cabin in the woods, where once he’d lived and loved. Maybe Daye had moved on, but his heart still longed for that place and that time. He could never go back to that when, but perhaps he could find peace in that where.
“I want to go home,” he repeated a bit louder. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized that there was anything left in the world that might ease the ache in his soul.
“That’s a good plan,” Daye’s words were soothing. “I think… Yes, you belong there, at the cabin. Maybe I could bring Maia to visit you there from time to time. She loves Ireland.”
Nightwalker looked hopeful at the offer. He could go home and he could build something with his little girl, a girl he’d never known. This was a possibility, a future he had not until that moment dared to even dream about.
“Maia.” Nightwalker said the child’s name almost reverently. His stern demeanor was softened by the sudden dream in his eyes and his heart. “Tell me about her, Amanda. Tell me about you and Maia, and Drew and Sam, and your friends. Tell me about all the things I’ve missed.”
Daye laughed softly, sat down on the edge of the bed and began to speak. She had years of things to tell him, and suddenly Nightwalker believed that he had reason to hear them. Long into the quiet dark their voices passed in low tones as they spoke of the past and the future.
Where there's a Will, there's a way
***Saturday, 12th May 2007 – 9:15am
Kate and Galen’s House***
Reintroducing Michael Vartan as William Travers
Will looked up at the tall whitewashed house as his taxi came to a stop. “67 Birch Street?” he asked the cabbie uncertainly. He’d never been to Kate’s home before but it was every bit as he’d imagined it - serene, inviting, homely and ever so slightly magical.
“Yuh huh, that’ll be twenty bucks.”
Will emptied his wallet of the correct amount as he climbed out of the sweltering cab, wiping his sweaty brow. He’d arrived in Los Angeles late last night, maintaining his cover by going directly to Jessie’s apartment and dropping off his things. His sister had been concerned of course, she’d heard many of the same rumours that he had about Delancre, though it seemed she’d managed to keep more of a low profile about town over the last few months than the rest of her friends.
He’d considered showing Jessie what he’d found out from Jimmy Han’s notebook, but then decided against it. The less she knew the better; if Delancre ever requisitioned her to LA HQ and questioned her about his visit she’d be no competition for the First Elder, and he refused to put his little sister in any more danger than she was already.
On the other hand, Kate seemed to be already involved in what was going on, plus she was a particularly adept telepath not to mention an exceedingly talented witch. He soothed his conscience with the knowledge that she was powerful enough to protect herself if the worst should happen.
As the taxi pulled away, Will walked up the porch to the front door and rang the bell.
****
Kate sighed contentedly as she sipped her cup of Oolong tea. It was a particularly warm morning and so they'd decided to have breakfast outside in the garden. A small table was laden with plates and all manner of good things to eat and drink along with pretty flowers that adorned the centre and attracted several wandering honey bees to come and join in the gathering.
Jack sat reading his newspaper, waiting for his coffee to cool while Galen served up a stack of his special blueberry pancakes with maple syrup. Kate looked up from her tea and smiled at her husband’s thoughtful contemplation as he slowly poured the runny syrup over the golden fluffy pancakes.
As Galen noticed her close consideration he looked up, catching a glimpse of amused affection in her eyes before she turned her attention back to her tea with another thoughtful smile. Galen grinned warmly, handing her a fork as they settled down to eat.
Jack looked up from his newspaper, noticing the occasional longing glances that were being exchanged between his daughter and son-in-law. It didn’t take a genius to see how much they still loved one another, though he could understand their caution. They’d both been through so much in the past four months and had hurt one another deeply in the most terrible ways possible. Still, Jack couldn’t help but wish the two of them would just come straight out and admit to one another how they felt. It seemed like such a terrible waste of time for them to keep holding back and waiting for the ‘right moment’ when it was obvious that what they wanted most of all was simply each other.
“So… do the two of you have any plans for the weekend?” he asked, folding his paper into his lap and taking up his coffee.
Kate and Galen both exchanged glances, Kate’s teacup poised upon her lower lip before she gently blew on the hot liquid and took another sip. Galen cleared his throat, cutting up his pancakes and chewing on a mouthful.
“I have that paperwork to get through…” offered Galen disinterestedly. He might be back on active duty but he had been more or less resigned to his desk. The Chief didn’t think he was ready to take on any on-going cases so he was stuck going through all the unsolved crimes. It was a step down and he knew it, plus he hated the fact that Anderson was left without a partner; despite his years he was a hot headed man but they worked well together, their styles of police work were very complementary. But Galen could understand why the decision had been made. Right now he was an unknown quantity, he couldn’t be relied upon to always turn into work if there was an emergency at home. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was a damn good detective - and they knew it - he was sure that he’d have been fired a long time back.
Kate noticed the glimmer of sadness in Galen’s eyes and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. She knew he’d been saddled with the ‘cold paper cases’ which was unsurprising considering the amount of time he’d had off work lately, but it was still disheartening. Kate knew that Galen loved to be out on the streets talking to witnesses and sorting through a crime scene, but whenever she tried to talk to him about it he’d just say that it wasn’t important and that his family came first. Kate still felt guilty anyway.
“Good morning, I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
The trio were all suddenly torn out of their thoughts as they turned to face the tall, leanly built man that had emerged from the porch, his slightly overgrown hair billowing in the light morning breeze.
“I tried the front door,” he explained, “but no one was answering, and I heard voices in the back so…”
He scratched the back of his neck uneasily as the sun shone in his eyes, forcing him to squint slightly, looking a little awkward as he returned the gaze of the three.
“Will!” squealed Kate suddenly, jumping from her chair and racing over to the new arrival.
A wide grin quickly spread across the face of William Travers as he embraced his little sister’s childhood friend. It always felt strange seeing her again, especially when he still remembered her as the girl with red pigtails who would lead his sister astray by teaching her spells whenever they were alone. Now she was very much a woman, a married woman no less, who’d had her own child and lost her, too. His eyes looked sad as he pulled back from their embrace.
“I’m so sorry Katie,” he apologised forlornly, “Jess told me about your little girl. She was sorry she couldn’t make it to the funeral, and so was I.”
Kate looked up at Will and smiled warmly. “Oh Will,” she said softly, burying her face against his shoulder in relief as she hugged him again. It was so nice to just hear a kind word from a friend that she could barely keep the tears from her eyes. “Thank you.”
Galen slowly rose from his chair as he watched his wife and this stranger – whom she seemed to know quite intimately, embrace one another. He cleared his throat loudly.
Kate turned around to see Galen looking only slightly less awkward than Will had a few moments ago. She smiled at him and slipped from Will’s arms to where he stood, taking his hand in both of hers and leading him up to her old friend.
“Will, this is my husband, Galen Eldridge. Galen this is William Travers, Jessie’s brother. He’s a director with the Watchers’ Council. I made a phone call a few days ago but…” she turned back to Will, “I never expected you to come all the way from England!”
“Well, to be honest,” said Will, sharing a welcoming nod with Kate’s husband, “things back home have been tense to say the least. There are many rumours flying around about First Elder Delancre, the kind of rumours that simply can’t be ignored. When I got your message… well, I knew you wouldn’t call unless something was wrong, and I have something of considerable importance that you should see.”
Kate and Galen exchanged glances before returning their attention to Will.
“We were just having breakfast,” said Galen quickly, gesturing over to the small table still filled with food and glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. “Why don’t you join us and we can discuss things?”
Will smiled gratefully at the man’s welcoming and generous offer. “That would be lovely, I haven’t had a chance to eat yet this morning.”
“Then it’s settled,” said Kate with a smile. “Come sit down and I’ll introduce you to my father…”
***Some Time Later***
“I… I just can’t believe it…” stammered Kate as she held the pages of Jimmy Han’s notebook open before her eyes. The things she had just read in the past hour, the things Will had told her… “I can’t believe it,” she said again.
“I know,” said Will calmly, drinking his tea. Unlike Kate he’d had much more time to mull things over, but even so he still shared her amazement - and horror.
“Are you sure it’s true?” asked Kate in disbelief. The book not only held documented evidence of illegal genetic experiments being conducted in the Colombia training grounds but also detailed the kidnappings, brainwashing and violent killings of a number of demons – and with the full knowledge of the First Elder Ambrose Delancre. Kate could barely believe it was all true, part of her really didn’t want to believe it. What she had suspected Delancre capable of before had been bad enough, but this? Jimmy Han’s notebook read like the plot of a Stephen King novel.
“I know what you’re thinking, Katie,” said Will as he watched her flick back and forth through the pages. “If it had been anyone other than Jimmy I might have dismissed it myself, but there are so many rumours back home, the Council is divided… Jimmy got too close to the truth and he paid for that with his life,” he said soberly. “I think there’s enough information here to blow the First Elder’s malfeasance wide open, but I had to see things for myself, I had to know… When I got your phone call…”
“I should have said more over the phone,” said Kate as she continued to look through the notebook. “But I wasn’t sure how secure the line might have been. Lately I feel like I’m being watched. I’m having to be extra careful about what I say and to whom right now.” She leaned in closer as though they might be overheard where they sat.
“I’ve seen Delancre’s ‘army’ here in Los Angeles, but he maintained that they were volunteers to his cause, that they were just devoted followers that wanted to help fight the forces of darkness.”
Kate sighed, remembering what Tash had told her about the brainwashing techniques, but from the sound of things that was just the tip of the iceberg. Kate silently wondered if Tash knew about Delancre’s other extra curricular activities or if she was just as much in the dark about them as they all had been.
“And there are other things too,” explained Kate, looking from Will to her husband and back again. “Things concerning a friend of mine who was abducted by a group of supposedly ‘rogue’ Watchers a few months back. She was taken to this facility on Isla Nubalda and…”
Kate frowned. “Actually her memories have been tampered with but…”
“There’s obviously much more to all this than meets the eye,” agreed Will, “I think First Elder Delancre has been running rings around us all for long enough. Jess told me about the White Hats, do you think they-”
Kate shook her head in dismay, “Will, there’s something you should know about that… There’s been this virus going around, it alters people’s behaviour, takes away their inhibitions and any sense of a moral conscience. I’ve been working on a cure. Apparently it feeds off a substance called mana but I’ve had problems figuring out a way to drain a person of their mana without, well,” Kate paused warily, “without killing them.”
Galen took Kate’s hand in his own, squeezing her fingers supportively. “The thing is, William, most of the White Hats contracted this virus and ever since, things have kind of fallen apart.”
“We found a way to test for the symptoms,” explained Kate. “At least, a friend of mine did. It’s connected to the Lymbic System, I have an appointment tomorrow to be tested myself…”
“You?” asked Will curiously, glancing at Galen. “You think you have this virus too?”
Kate shrugged awkwardly, trying to appear perfunctory but instead she looked as every bit nervous as she felt. Kate couldn’t help but feel uneasy about what she might find out tomorrow. She was convinced in herself that she was uninfected, but then so was Tash and it was painfully obvious that her vampire hunting friend was possibly amongst the most heavily contaminated of all the White Hats. If it turned out that she had the virus herself also… Kate didn’t want to consider that she might have to drain her own mana, leaving her effectively powerless until her body was able to create more.
“I don’t know Will, it’s like I said, things around here are so confused I don’t know who to trust or what to believe any more.” Kate could have buried her face in her hands and broken down in tears for how hopeless the whole situation seemed. Her friends infected with an unknown virus, turning on one another and a power mad megalomaniac with an island full of genetically augmented demons ready to serve his every whim.
Kate held back that urge though. She had cried more than enough tears lately and she simply refused to shed any over Ambrose Delancre. She deftly scooped up the notebook in her hands and flicked through it. She’d only had a cursory glance before and knew that the contents warranted further study. In her heart Kate believed that Delancre must have some connection to the appearance of this virus and maybe, just maybe this notebook held some secrets that Will had overlooked. It would mean more work but she could cope with that, so long as she had something to keep her busy, something to stop her from thinking about Emma and all the terrible mistakes she’d made lately… so long as she had that she could cope with anything.
“You know you can trust me, Kate,” said Will quietly, “and you can believe the contents of that notebook. We have to stop Delancre before this whole thing gets out of hand. There’s enough opposition in the Council, I know exactly who to talk to. Give me a few weeks and I could have an army of my own to bring back here. Watchers aren’t all about musty books and high tea, you know?”
Kate nodded after a moment. She wasn’t sure how much use the Watchers would be even if Will could make good on his promise. But he was right, she had spent enough time in the Council to know that there were as many warriors and mages amongst the Watchers as there were librarians and bean counters.
“Good, and I’ll talk to what’s left of the White Hats, I only hope that’s enough.”
“And… the virus?” inquired Will speculatively. As much as he trusted Kate’s judgement he wasn’t sure how wise it would be to rely upon those who were infected with this disease, plus he’d be exposing his own people to it too… it could rapidly become an epidemic.
Kate had already turned and begun to make her way back to the house. “I’m working on it, Will,” she said, grasping the notebook tightly against her chest, her eyes growing dark at the enormous task that lay ahead. “I’m working on it,” she mumbled to herself quietly.
Kate is tested for Hyde
***Monday, 14th May 2007 – 9:45am
UCLA Health Centre for Neurology and Neurosurgery***
Guest Starring - Michael Shanks as Dr Martin Sloshein, MD
Kate tried her best to keep still as the tomography machine rotated around her body, a thin beam of blue light passing across her face. Kate hated being confined to closed in spaces, especially when those closed in spaces were in hospitals. She hadn’t been inside a hospital since her miscarriage last month and just the smell of the place brought back memories she would rather not think of.
She had come to the UCLA centre for neurology and neurosurgery early that morning for her appointment with Alessa’s friend Mike Coulter. Since then she had undergone several tests that would determine whether or not she was infected with the same virus that had affected the majority of her friends over the past four months.
Kate twisted the thin fabric of her hospital gown between her fingers nervously, breathing a sigh of relief as the machine moved back into the neutral position before switching off. Kate lay still for a few minutes more, still feeling nervous until she felt a hand touch her shoulder.
“You can get up now.”
Mike looked down at the beautiful witch's face and smiled. She looked tired and nervous and no wonder; she'd been enduring the tests for hours, not complaining even once.
“You can get dressed too, Mrs. Eldridge, this one was the last, thank God.” He smiled again at the relief in her face. “By the time you're ready I'll have the results for you to see.”
Kate nodded gratefully as she disappeared behind a screen to get dressed. The gown was thin and draughty and the counter where she had been laid was cold and particularly uncomfortable. She was more than a little glad that the tests were over and though she was in two minds about what she wanted the result to be at least she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.
Straightening out the paisley print of her summer dress, Kate emerged from behind the screen feeling for all the world like a child waiting to hear from the school nurse. She watched Mike Coulter as he talked in hushed tones with Dr Sloshein, a much younger man dressed in the archetypal white coat of a physician but unlike Coulter he had a distinct air of self-conscious unease about him.
Kate waited a moment longer before clearing her throat to attract their attention at which point the quiet discussion halted abruptly.
Mike looked at her and smiled. The woman looked so nervous that he felt the need to reassure her. The results are almost ready, there's only some data being printed that the doctor needs before giving us the complete results.”
He looked pointedly to the young doctor and the man hurried away in direction to the control room. “Don’t worry about that either,” he added, alluding their earlier conversation. “It's just an old argument.”
Motioning towards the door, he stepped aside to let her walk in front of him. “Let's wait for the results at the office, okay? There are some things I'd like to discuss with you while we wait.”
“Okay,” agreed Kate as the man directed her towards the correct room in a corridor that seemed to stretch far into the distance, a vast expanse of polished floor tiles and stark overhead lighting. In contrast the office was much more conservative with dark wooden furniture and comfortable looking leather chairs.
Mike gestured for Kate to sit and she did so without question though she did wonder what he might want to talk to her about apart from the virus or perhaps Alessa she didn’t see that they had much TO talk about.
"Alessa told me what you had discovered about the virus, Mrs. Eldridge, about it feeding off mana. I understand you are investigating a cure too." Mike carefully studied the woman in front of him. She didn’t look so strong, but Alessa had said she was a powerful witch and he didn’t doubt it. Size and power did not necessarily go hand in hand.
"I just wanted to tell you that any help this company can offer is yours to take. You just name it and if it's within our reach you'll get it. We've been in the business of dealing with mystical artefacts and ingredients for many years now, and we have contacts as well as resources. We also have an extensive library, at the company and at Alessa's house." He thought of Ellis lying in the hospital bed, still sedated, and his face hardened. "At the moment curing this illness is top priority, for the company and myself."
Kate nodded in agreement. “As it is for myself too, Mr Coulter.” For a brief moment she caught a sense of worry and distress from the man though his face remained unreadable. Kate wasn’t sure if it was worry for Alessa or some other poor soul close to this man who had the virus. It was certainly possible that any amount of people could have been infected, not just the White Hats.
“I’m working on several possibilities, it’s just a matter of time…” *Time which we’re running out of,* thought Kate somewhat anxiously. She was well aware of just how many people were counting on her to find a cure. Sometimes it was such a burden she had to just close herself off to it so that she could think straight. At the moment she was working from day break to sun down, and plenty hours after that too. She knew she must look a state, the lack of sleep and any real rest was beginning to take its toll again but she didn’t care. Finding a cure consumed her every thought.
Mike said nothing as several emotions showed in the witch's expressive face; hope, frustration, tiredness but mostly determination. He finally nodded. "Sometimes you just need to ask for help, you know. Just remember my offer, you can call me any time and for anything."
He was going to add something when the door opened and Dr. Sloshein appeared in the threshold. The young doctor moved his glasses up his nose and coughed, before Mike rolled his eyes and motioned him to enter the room. The doctor needed a lesson or two in self esteem.
"Come on in, Sloshein. What did you discover?" he asked impatiently, and the younger man finally stepped in, sitting in a chair next to Kate and casting a nervous glance at his employer.
"Well, Mrs. Eldridge's temporal lobe's medial surface-critical structures are in accordance to normal human performance. The rostal and caudal sections show the ordinary olfactory functioning, no parosmia or anosmia were present, either. Synapse on the dendrites of the mitral cells of the olfactory bulb is normal, neurites-"
"Doctor!" Mike asked with patience and some resignation, and the young man stopped, instantly blushing.
"I'm sorry. The brain scans showed no inflammation of the amygdala and no hyperactivity of the Limbic system, neither did the psychology test results indicate any behavioural disorder," he said, just too quickly, and smiled nervously when he finished, taking a sidelong glance to Kate before turning to Mike again. "Mrs. Eldridge is not infected."
A smile of relief passed across Kate’s face and she exhaled slowly, not even realising that she had been holding her breath during the doctor’s spiel. She didn’t understand half of what he’d said, the medical jargon going straight over her head. The only words that mattered were ‘not infected’.
“Thank Gaia,” she whispered under her breath in a silent prayer of grace. It took her a few moments more to be able to think more about what Dr Sloshein had said.
“But I don’t understand, how can I not be infected? All the other Wh- I mean, my friends, they all seem to have it and I’ve been around them all the time… How could they get infected and not myself?”
The doctor coughed to catch Kate's attention before speaking. "Well, the high number of white cells in your blood may imply your immune system was fighting the virus at some time. There are also traces of the virus in your cells, although inactive, or even dead, I can't say for sure without further studies."
At the woman's worried expression Sloshein hurried to add, "Nothing to be worried about, it's not enough to be of any significance. As I said, I can't really be sure without more studies, but my guess would be that your system somehow fought it and won or you have some kind of resilience to it. In any virus, there are those who are naturally immune or more resilient; otherwise every time there's a plague everybody would die." He smiled reassuringly, "I'll know for sure in some time and I'll pass the results to Mr Coulter."
"And I'll tell you, don’t worry." Mike said, interested, then he turned to the doctor. "Correct me if I'm wrong doctor, but you'd have something to start there then?"
"Indeed," the doctor beamed, at last in a subject he felt confident. "Mrs. Eldridge's blood samples may result of invaluable help in this research."
Kate was still quite surprised that she might be resilient, and in the state she had been in when the virus must have been at its most contagious too. It seemed like an amazing stroke of luck and one that she was struggling to accept. But still, Sloshein’s explanation was sound and her father was part demon - maybe some of that demonic DNA had been passed on to her and made her some how immune to infection?
Either way, Kate was so elated at being clean of this virus that she couldn’t help but smile and she suddenly found herself echoing Coulter’s earlier offers of assistance. “Any help that you need just contact me… and you must tell me if you find out anything…”
Mike smiled too. When Alessa asked him to arrange the witch's scanning he had been worried about her being infected too. She was the only person who seemed to be on the right track for a cure after all. But now that he'd met the woman in flesh and bone he reprimanded himself for his callousness and was genuinely pleased at this turn of events.
"Will do, Mrs. Eldridge, will do," he answered, still smiling. "Just remember to do the same."
“Don’t worry, Mr Coulter,” said Kate as she rose to her feet and shook the man’s hand. “I’ll stay in touch.”
Thanks to Ally for writing the parts of Mike Coulter and Dr Sloshein.
A Rose in the Garden
***Tuesday, 15th May 2007 – 8:23am
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge***
Guest Starring – Marc Anthony as Officer Tony Green
Kate smiled contentedly as she looked up at the brightly coloured roses that adorned the walls of her greenhouse. It had been some time since she had been able to spend any time tending to her plants but it seemed that Mother Nature had lent a helping hand in her absence. Kate had always found interacting with nature in such a way to be very therapeutic, allowing her to switch off from her worries and troubles – of which she had quite a few lately. Since Will’s arrival and the information contained in Jimmy Han’s notebook, Kate’s work had really intensified in the bid to find a cure. She was getting much closer she thought, but even so the extra work was beginning to take its toll and she just needed a way to clear her head so that should could return with a fresh outlook.
“Ah ha!” said Kate in satisfaction, as she plucked a small fuzzy green caterpillar from the stem of a rose bush. She held the plump creature between her thumb and forefinger, a smile on her face. “So you’re the one who’s been munching on my Rosa Gloire de Djion hmmm?” she said questioningly, carrying the tiny insect out of the greenhouse and back into the garden, laying it gently on a mint leaf.
Returning to the greenhouse Kate began carefully pruning a crimson climbing rose that threatened to take over the entire right side of the wall unless it was carefully reined in. Kate wielded her secateurs skilfully, humming a simple tune as she clipped and pruned back the wild boughs, gathering several of the lush and sweetly perfumed blooms together. As she ‘worked’ her humming grew into gentle quiet singing.
“There's a rose in the garden,
It will bloom if you're sure,
That you pay close attention,
But leave it room.
I know your heart can be opened,
And like the rose, it will bloom.
If I pay close attention,
But leave you room.
I'm not telling any lies now.
I need you,
You know how.
I think I can see how to let you grow,
I've got to let you go.
That's my face in the mirror,
It's sometimes you that I see.
We've been here for so long now,
I see your soul in me.
‘Cause there's a rose in the garden,
It will bloom if you're sure.
That you pay close attention,
But leave it room.”
Kate smiled as she held one of the roses up to her nose and breathed in the heady scent. She couldn’t even remember where she had heard that song though the sad lyrics touched her somewhere deep inside. Shaking her head against her own foolishness, Kate placed the rose back down on the table while she turned to a few seedlings that she had been about to replant.
****
Officer Tony Green paused on the front porch as he rang the doorbell for the third time. The shrill ringing echoed emptily in the house as the only sound to be heard from outside and he eyed the driveway warily as he noted only Kate’s car remaining.
He considered leaving but he’d been informed that Detective Eldridge would be at home all morning and he simply had to pick up those case files he’d been working on for him. He tried the door with an air of trepidation, his breath catching in his throat as, with an audible ‘CLICK’ the door swung open. He thought it was pretty careless to leave a door unlocked when there was obviously no one within earshot of it, but at least it meant that someone was home.
He walked through the empty house until he reached the kitchen. Still there was no one to be seen and he was about to turn back when a pleasant singing reached his ears from the direction of the greenhouse. Tony smiled to himself at the sweet tune and the feminine voice whose lilting grace and harmonious accent distinguished it as belonging to Detective Eldridge’s wife.
Tony paused in the arching doorway that led into the intimate annex, filled with sunlight through the high glass roof which curved overhead. He watched Kate silently as she gathered handfuls of soil and pressed it into several terracotta plant pots that sat in a row in front of her. His lips pursed together in contemplation as his eyes roved across her slight curves, lingering on her bare legs and the hem of her thin floral summer dress that rode up her thighs ever so slightly every time she leaned forward.
She really was a beautiful woman, he thought as he continued to watch her; slender with smooth, silky skin that just begged to be touched. Her long red hair was only partially tied back while the rest cascaded down her back in a mass of loose, lustrous waves. Her exuberant curves strained within the confinements of her clothing and Tony felt his body respond to the thoughts that suddenly surged through his mind. He quietly walked into the room, not making a sound, even so far as holding his breath as he crept up behind her and reached out one hand to gently rest against her waist.
“OH!” gasped Kate, jumping in surprise at the sudden contact; she’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t been paying attention to anything else and she quickly turned around, banging her back against the table as she was faced with Tony Green.
“Hey, sorry, Kate,” Tony said with a slight smile as he dug his hands into his pockets, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Oh, Tony, no, it’s just…” Kate smoothed her own hand over her waist, as though trying to rid herself of his touch which had sent nervous shivers through her body, her soiled hands leaving a dry, dirty smudge across her dress. “I never heard you come in, that’s all.”
“I came to see Galen, he has a few files of mine I need to get back,” Tony explained courteously. “I knocked at the door but nobody answered. I hope you don’t mind my letting myself in like that, but it’s really important that I get those files.”
He regarded her carefully, leaning back against another small table that was pushed against the wall. “You really should lock your door by the way.”
“I… I must have forgotten,” said Kate, her voice still hesitant and breathless as she turned her back and picked up the last handful of soil, pressing it down into the plant pot. Tony had come around a few times since the first afternoon she had met him and though she was still wary of the man, particularly his unique sense of humour, she was glad that Galen was finally bonding with his co-workers. He’d spent so much of his time and energy on their marriage that it was a wonder he got any work done at all, never mind the chance to socialise.
“Galen just popped out to pick up a few things,” explained Kate as she focused her own energies into smoothing the soil around the tiny green shoots. “Groceries… that sort of thing, he won’t be long.”
Tony grinned as he straightened up and moved closer behind the woman, peering over her shoulder. Kate felt her body go cold as Tony’s body brushed up against her own. He wrapped one arm around her left side, leaning on his hand against the table but preventing her from escaping nonetheless. In one swift, seemingly innocuous movement he had her trapped between the hard table and his own body.
“So… what do you get up to here all on your own?” he whispered in her ear as he continued to lean over her shoulder feigning an interest in what she was doing.
Kate could feel her breathing grow more rapid as her unease increased, her entire body was tense with anxiety she wanted to move but she just felt so… helpless. She couldn’t tell whether Tony was trying to make her feel uncomfortable or whether he was just being overly friendly in the manner that he seemed oft to do. Even her telepathy was sending her mixed signals.
“I never knew how talented you were, Kate,” Tony continued to speak softly, his free hand reaching out to pick up one of the roses she had just cut. He gradually drew back, smiling as he heard a small sigh of relief leave Kate’s lips. She turned again to face him, pressing her own back hard against the edge of the table as though determined not to give him the opportunity to corner her again.
“This really is beautiful,” Tony said, holding the rose up to his nose and breathing the scent deeply in the manner that Kate had not so long ago. “A rose for a rose,” he said reaching out to brush back Kate’s hair and tuck the flower behind her ear. But as he reached out to touch her Kate stumbled back to evade his reach, wincing in pain as an errant rose thorn scratched against her shoulder, making her bleed.
Tony drew back a little also, surprised at her sudden movement and dropped the rose on the side to take hold of Kate. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous,” he said contritely. “Oh God, you’re bleeding…”
“I’m… I’m okay, really,” insisted Kate as Tony led her into the kitchen, holding her injured arm tentatively in his hands. “It wasn’t your fault… I guess I’m just a little jumpy today. I probably should switch to decaf.”
“Do you always do that?” Tony asked with a smile as he sat her down at the kitchen table and started rooting around in the cupboards for the first aid kit.
“Third cupboard on the left,” directed Kate and then frowned. “Do what?”
Tony pulled up another chair and sat down in front of her, opening the small box and taking out some cotton wool and antiseptic. He carefully dabbed at the scratch, smiling a little in amusement as Kate winced, his fingers gently lingering against her skin as he held the cotton wool ball in place. He slowly looked up at her. “Make jokes when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” said Kate with a shake of her head. She returned Tony’s gaze for a moment before she pushed his hand away, taking hold of the piece of cotton wool herself. “I can take over from here, thanks.”
“I was just trying to help,” Tony said gently, rising to his feet as Kate pushed back her chair and positioned herself on the opposite side of the table, his voice sounding hurt at her sudden withdrawal.
“I know,” Kate insisted, feeling suddenly annoyed with herself for thinking the worst of the man. Tony was one of Galen’s friends after all, why was she so paranoid? “I’m sorry, Tony, I appreciate you wanting to help but I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”
“That you got because of me. I don’t know why you’re so nervous around me, Kate. Would it help you relax if I told you I had a girlfriend? Her name’s Annie and we’ve been together for two years now – longer than you and Galen. So…” he smiled shyly, “think we can be friends now? I promise I won’t overstep the boundaries again.”
Kate rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, “I’m sorry Tony, I didn’t mean to act like a diva.” She shrugged, wiping the cotton wool against her wound again before tossing it in the trash. The scratch really wasn’t that bad, not when you compared it to the long scar across her other shoulder that Cole had inflicted not so long ago.
“Why don’t you stay for breakfast?” she suggested, running water into the kettle for tea. “Galen will be home soon, I’m sure he’d like to talk to you.”
Tony smiled, his mouth a wide curled grin that split his face in two as he ran a hand up his jaw in contemplation. “You know what Kate? I think I will.”
robert tries to blackmail daye
*** Monday, May 14, 2007 around 9 am ***
Robert sat in the corner of the sitting room, trying to be as insignificant as possible. The Nightwalker was taking his leave of Amanda’s room, and Robert didn’t want to remind the demon that he was there. He remained still and silent until Nightwalker had shut the suite’s outer door behind him. Then, when he was sure Amanda was finally alone, Robert stood up and quickly went to the door, locking it. He then turned his attention to the bedroom door, beyond which his ‘just desserts’ lay, probably still asleep. He wanted to rub his hands together in gleeful triumph.
Robert had suspected something odd about Amanda’s behavior from the moment they’d stepped out of the limousine last evening. After he’d recovered from the black bitch’s unwarranted assault, he’d known to bide his time. Once Amanda and the Nightwalker were safely walking the halls of dreamland, he had used his magic to investigate those suspicions. Robert had discovered that Amanda’s mana, which he was linked to through the spell, was completely altered. Something had changed drastically. The mages who’d examined her when she first arrived had detected some kind of foreign body present within her mana. Now that, whatever it had been, was gone.
Robert had also slipped into the bedroom in the dead of night and discovered that the Nightwalker had slept in the armchair. Amanda and the demon both wanted to give the impression that they were sexual partners now, but Robert suspected something far more sinister was going on here. The playacting struck him as not only odd, but cause for suspicion. Why would the woman need to pretend? What was she up to? Well, whatever it was, for Robert it meant only one thing. Amanda had something to hide and he knew it. That gave him leverage. He imagined Delancre would be very interesting in hearing about Amanda’s strange behavior, not to mention that of the Nightwalker. The demon was a highly trusted officer in the Watchers’ Corps.
Robert figured he could convince Amanda that it would be in her best interests to co-operate with him now. If she was willing to pay for his silence, he would keep her secret. On the other hand, if the haughty witch still thought that he was below her, well, then he would go to Lord Delancre with this information. He would undoubtedly win the First Elder’s favor and that would be a nice consolation prize. Whichever way Amanda decided to go, Robert couldn’t lose.
Swinging open the bedroom door, Robert was delighted to find Amanda still abed. Her hair spilled over the pillows and her eyes were closed. He could tell from her slow, even breathing that Amanda was still deeply asleep. This was going to be good.
Robert moved silently across the room. He settled himself on the edge of the bed beside where Amanda lay so peacefully. Robert reached out and gently stroked the side of her face, feeling rising excitement within him. Amanda stirred. She came awake slowly. When she saw Robert there, she clutched the bedclothes tighter to her chest and sat up slowly, looking bewildered and a bit frightened.
Amanda’s reaction stoked the flame of lust ignited in Robert. He smiled wickedly, letting his hands trail down her face towards her neck and shoulders. Amanda shied away from his touch.
“What… what are you doing?” she asked, trying to scoot out of his reach. “Robert… why are you in my room? What’s going on?”
“Pretty Amanda…” Robert’s voice was husky and his wandering hands never stopped. “Do you know how you’ve tormented me? Do you know how you make a man ache?”
Daye felt panic rising in her breast. Why was this man doing this? Did he want revenge for how she’d treated him before? A part of her could understand, but she still didn’t want him touching her. “I… you should leave,” she warned. “I never invited you in here.”
“No, you just teased and taunted,” Robert replied. His eyes were hot and angry. “You let me sit there night after night and day after day, listening to you and your parade of lovers. You strutted around in front of me half naked, and you sneered at me. I’m not good enough for you, right Amanda? I’m too weak… too bald… too boring. Right?”
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Daye glanced around the room. Robert had her hedged in. He was looming over her, and the look in his eyes was making her very wary. “Robert, if I’ve led you to believe… er… that is… I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you… I just don’t find you… I’m not… You’re not really my type.”
“I’m not really any woman’s type,” Robert snapped. “And I’m tired of it. I’ve tried everything. I’ve been nice and patient and I never have pushed. Until now. You can pass yourself around from demon to demon and I just sit by and watch… and listen. Women like you all think it’s fun to make me sweat. No more. I’m done just watching. I’m done just listening. It’s my turn now.”
Robert wrapped his hand around the strap of Daye’s nightgown. She could see he was determined. “If you don’t stop, I’ll scream,” she said sadly. *I’ve pretty much pushed him beyond endurance, haven’t I? I almost deserve this.*
Robert’s hands stilled. “If you scream, the whole house will come running. Someone will get Lord Delancre. You really don’t want to get him involved, do you?”
Daye could hear the weight in Robert’s words. “Why not?” she asked. “Do you honestly think Ambrose wouldn’t take my side? You believe he’d approve of this, your raping me?”
“I believe he’d be less inclined to defend you if he knew about your secret,” Robert replied. “He hates betrayal, our Lord Delancre does.”
Daye froze. *He knows something,* she thought frantically. *But what? What does he know? How…? Oh Goddess, he’s linked to me by the shielding spell. He must be able to detect something. What have I done?*
Robert watched the horrified dismay fill Amanda’s face. He chuckled softly. “Figure it out, did you? You discounted me. You underestimated me. Everyone always does that. I hate that. Now… what are you going to do to make it up to me? You ready to play nice, Amanda?”
Daye knew what he was asking. She was no fool. Robert wanted only one thing in exchange for his silence. She just couldn’t imagine actually giving it to him. “I… you can’t…” Daye stammered.
“I don’t feel like trying to fight you,” Robert was stroking her bare arms again. “You’re bigger than me, and I’m sure you know how to fight, pretty Amanda. I don’t feel like working that hard for it. I’d much rather you just give it up.”
Daye thought quickly. She could see no way around this. Perhaps, though, she could at least stall him and buy herself some time. “I… we can’t do this now,” she said. “I’ve promised Lord Delancre I would start trying to get involved in some of the work going on with the mages in the lab this morning. I-if you wait, though, I think we could work something out.”
Daye smiled seductively, ignoring the nausea in her stomach. “I don’t want you to miss out on anything. The little time we have now would never be enough.”
Robert grinned. This was more like it. “All right,” he agreed, backing off. “We could pick this up later tonight.”
Daye nodded. That would give her a little time, although now she had to at least spend part of the day in the lab to cover up that lie.
Robert stood up. He moved over by the chair, but didn’t leave the room. He just waited, his arms crossed and his eyes on Daye. She realized he expected her to get up and get dressed right in front of him. She also realized she had no choice. Daye stood and moved towards the door that led to the closet, not looking at the man. She didn’t see the triumphant sneer on his face as he stared openly at her body. She had no real idea of just how much Robert enjoyed degrading her.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, 14th May 2007 – 12:45pm
Tash looked at her surroundings and wondered how she’d come to be here. Feeling restless that morning, she’d gone for a ride on her bike then stopped somewhere and just started walking.
All week she’d been having odd urges. Occasionally memories of her evening with Onyx would flash in her mind, bringing with them an answering tingle in her groin. It was most distracting, especially when she was fighting vampires or performing one of her zombie-raising rituals.
But last night it had been worse. She’d deliberately evoked those memories in order to play her part with Daye in front of Robert, and ever since she’d been feeling like she wanted to see the demon. So she’d gone out to clear her head. Now she found herself near Marcus’ hotel, and cursed her subconscious mind for its single-mindedness. She really didn’t want to start anything with Onyx – she had neither the time nor the inclination for any sort of relationship right now.
“Fine then,” she sighed to herself as she turned to face the Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel. “I’ll stop by to say ‘hi’ and make absolutely sure it’s clear there’s not going to be anything between us. Maybe that’ll get it out of my system.”
Even as these thoughts flitted through her mind, she entered the foyer, made her way to the elevators, and rode a lift in silence to Onyx’s floor. The plush carpet softened the tread of her boots as she found the door she wanted and knocked upon the hard wooden surface.
Onyx brought the motions of her T’ai Chi exercises to a graceful halt and smiled. The subtle fluctuations of power that heralded the approach of a telepath were enough to warn her Tash had entered the building. That Tash would come here for a reason other than her meetings with Marcus was a certainty, though Onyx was honestly surprised it had taken as long as it had. *Well I’ll just have to add an exceptional will to the list of her talents,* Onyx thought graciously, but irrespective of Tash’s will the end result had been as inevitable as the sunrise.
Schooling her mind and face into a suitable expression of apprehension and faint pleasure Onyx moved to the door and opened it a few moments after Tash’s knock. “Tash…This is a surprise.”
*That makes two of us.* Tash licked her lips nervously. “Yeah, well… I was just in the neighbourhood, really, and wondered if perhaps…”
*Perhaps what? Think!* Tash caught sight of a clock on the wall behind Onyx and smiled in relief. “Perhaps you’d like to have lunch with me?”
Onyx fought back the surge of elation that flooded through her. This was only the first step and there were no guarantees. Onyx glanced up the hallway to Marcus’ door. He was meeting with his accountants, lawyers and investment bankers. Garland had managed to squirrel quite a lot of assets away and it was taking time to unravel all the man’s secrets. Marcus wouldn’t need her for the next couple of hours but even so she was loath to leave her charge completely.
Looking back to Tash, Onyx kept her smile light and her tone slightly apologetic. “I’d like that but,” she hesitated, “the restaurant here is very good.”
For a moment Tash’s heart stopped when she thought Onyx was about to turn down her offer, then it started again as the demoness changed her mind and accepted. Unsure why it mattered so much to her, nevertheless Tash smiled warmly and stepped back to make room for Onyx in the hallway. “Well, shall we head down there, then?”
“I’m not quite dressed for it,” Onyx said with a look down at her attire. “If you’d like to come in, I’ll just be a moment.”
Onyx moved back into the suite and headed for her bedroom, leaving Tash in the lounge. It had been decorated by the hotel but a number of small metal sculptures were enough to mark the space as Onyx’s. Leaving the door to her bedroom ajar while she changed Onyx called out, “So how are things, Tash?”
“Okay, I guess,” Tash responded distantly, her mind preoccupied.
At Onyx’s mention of her inappropriate clothing, Tash had become highly conscious of her own. Boots, jeans and a tank top were hardly the things anyone wore to a fancy restaurant. She shuffled awkwardly as she heard the sounds of Onyx changing in the bedroom.
“Um… do they have just a café or something downstairs as well? I’m not what you’d call restaurant quality either at the moment.”
Onyx gave a soft laugh as she stepped back out into the lounge dressed in a simple white sundress. “Unfortunately not. But don’t worry, you look fine.” Onyx caught Tash’s look of disbelief. “We’re not that far apart. I could loan you something if you’re uncomfortable.”
Tash glanced at the bedroom door that Onyx had left ajar, and a shiver went down her spine. Of what, she wasn’t sure. But the thought of undressing in that room made her feel both excited and unnerved at the same time.
“Um, no, it’s ok. Thanks anyway. If they don’t like what I’m wearing, then the hell with them I say.”
Onyx caught the faint distress from Tash and backed off. She didn’t need to push, there was plenty of time and it was better if done correctly rather than quickly. “Exactly. If you can’t be yourself once in a while what’s the point?”
Relaxing a little, Tash smiled. “Exactly.”
The pair left the room and waited patiently for the elevator to arrive. By the time they reached the ground floor and Onyx was leading her to the restaurant, Tash was feeling far more at ease than she had when she first arrived. It was perfectly clear to her now why she’d come here. It hadn’t been just happenstance. No, of course not. She was here to talk to Onyx about how their one night together had been very wonderful and all that, but that it was just a one-time thing. And as soon as they were seated, that was precisely what she planned to say to the woman.
The waiter didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow at Tash’s attire, for which she was grateful. After he’d seated them, handed them their menus and gone to fill their initial drinks orders, Tash looked across at Onyx. She cleared her throat to say her piece and get this settled once and for all. Firm and to the point, that was the trick.
“That’s a really lovely dress. It offsets your dark hair beautifully, you know.”
“Thank you Tash.” Onyx let the fabulously responsive skin of her borrowed face flush a little at the compliment. “I’m glad you like it.”
“You know you quite surprised Marcus last week,” Onyx said as she perused the menu. “I know he wasn’t expecting a great deal after you explained how you acquired your knowledge but that little ritual you worked out? Quite the tour-de-force.”
It was Tash’s turn to flush. “Well, we did it together. I mean, it’s not like he shut me away and made me work it out by myself or anything. I just sort of… pointed him in a direction or two he hadn’t thought of before.” She laughed lightly, “Though I have to say, why I spent two years ignoring that knowledge is beyond me. I should have started using it long ago.”
“The circumstances surrounding the acquisition sounded unpleasant. It’s understandable that you took your time to accept its usefulness. Still, two years sounds quite a long time. Perhaps the right opportunity never presented itself. How are your creations by the way?”
“Oh, they’re behaving perfectly. They do everything they’re told… by the other person. I demonstrated the first one to him by getting him to hand control to me, and then I ordered it to kill him. Naturally, it turned on me instead of its ‘rightful’ master.” Tash winked, and laughed.
She ordered a light lunch from the waiter when he returned, and began to sip at the margarita he’d delivered for her. “Hmm, that hits the spot.”
Tash wondered about Daye’s recovery, and the weekend away she’d had with Marcus and Onyx. Unless Daye had mentioned her name specifically, she had the feeling neither Marcus nor Onyx were aware of her connection with Daye – or with Delancre, for that matter. For now, she was happy to keep it that way. Of course, it did close off a whole section of small talk she could have used.
Blinking at her margarita, Tash frowned. Why had the idea of lack of small talk been of more concern to her than the possibility of giving away more knowledge than she had to? *Must be too many late nights,* she though wryly. Taking another sip of her drink she smiled at Onyx again and tried to think of something non-controversial to say. Maybe now was a good time to lay it on the line for Onyx.
“So… the other night…” *Firm and to the point, remember?*
With a small ‘ahem’, Tash tried again. “What I mean is… Well, I can’t say I’ve ever experienced anything quite like it.” *Oh yeah, that’s telling her.*
Onyx half smiled at the faintly breathy tone of Tash’s obviously unplanned admission but was a touch puzzled. Tash had been an accomplished lover if perhaps a little too aggressive and demanding for some. That skill didn’t mesh with Tash’s half admission.
Onyx ignored the discrepancy; maybe Ohenewaa had left more that just six hundred years of voodoo knowledge in Tash’s mind. She leaned forward a touch, making the space around the table a fraction more intimate without the situation becoming too overwhelming. “I’m glad we both found it enjoyable…”
“Uh, yeah. Yes! Yes, it was. But… well, I just want to be clear with you that it’s not my usual… that is to say, I don’t expect us to…” Tash closed her eyes. *Gods, why is this so difficult to say? I want it this way, don’t I? Don’t I…?*
Opening her eyes again she fixed a watery smile in place. “Sorry, I seem to be having trouble with words today. Let’s just say I find you very interesting, but I don’t think a physical relationship is best for me right now.” *There, finally!*
*Score one for an exceptional will,* Onyx thought. There had been only one ‘treatment’ though and Onyx wasn’t that surprised that Tash had finally managed to say what she thought, though even then she’d left openings for Onyx.
“I’m not the only interesting person sitting here.” Onyx settled back but remained attentive to Tash’s motion. “I understand you don’t want to… repeat our encounter but is a little intellectual stimulation out of the question?”
Tash covered her blush by taking another hefty swallow of her margarita before replying, “No, of course not. I’d love to learn more about you. I mean, I gather you’ve been with the Dalton family for a long time?”
There was no need to hide anything. Onyx was certain Tash would keep any of her secrets and sharing such things would draw them closer. “Yes, since… since before Selwyn Dalton watched Richard III die at the Battle of Bosworth Field. I must say Shakespeare’s poetry flattered the man.”
“Oh.” Tash blinked in surprise. “I had no idea…” Laughter escaped from her lips, “Though it fits. My last- I mean, my husband had lived for about two thousand years on Earth. It should never shock me how long-lived some demons are.”
Onyx blinked in artful surprise. “You married a demon? I thought that perhaps…” She trailed off, hoping that Tash would complete the thought.
The feeling that washed over Tash was of mild astonishment and curiosity, and an expectation of… prejudice? She frowned. Did Onyx think she was biased against demons?
“You thought perhaps what? That I was a bigot? Hardly. I… Victor was my soul-mate, and I didn’t care how much he looked like a cockroach.” Tash shook her head vigorously. “No, please never think that. That’s not the reason I…”
“Don’t want me.” Onyx looked apologetic. “I’m sorry Tash, I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s just that it has happened to me before. I realise you knew ahead of time but in the heat of the moment,” she shrugged, “passion has a way of making us forget some things."
Onyx covered her apparent discomfort with a drink and then picked at her food, letting the suddenly awkward silence linger for a few seconds. “I understand though, now. I can’t compete with what you had.”
Sadness enveloped Tash for a moment, but she refused to let it take hold, the way it threatened to every time she thought of Victor. In the past weeks and months she’d grown more adept at not thinking about him, because she couldn’t bear the hollow emptiness she felt without him there. Pushing thoughts of him aside, she drained the last of her margarita and called the waiter over to order another.
“Well, he’s gone, Onyx. Life goes on. Crying won’t bring him back.” She flipped the menu up as the waiter appeared. “Another margarita, thanks, and I’ll have the Caesar salad.”
Onyx's smile held a hint of sympathy. “Yes, life does go on. But that doesn't mean you can't think about him.” She paused for a moment, weighing her words. “Tell me about him, Tash. Tell me about your soul-mate.”
Tash swallowed and stared at her second drink, the swirling green depths almost mesmerising her. “No… No, I don't think I'm ready to talk about him yet. But,” she lifted her head with a slight smile at Onyx, “maybe later.”
Onyx nodded, satisfied. It would do for now.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 15th May 2007 - 06:14am
Simon's Apartment, on the foldout bed, next to a bottle and knee-deep in Hell
The eviction notice stared back at Simon like a hungry animal. From what it growled in reply to his drunken slack jaw was a two-fold damnation - his building wasn't zoned for residence, and he was ten weeks late on rent.*Even three jobs couldn't pay for a month's rent in this goddamn town.*
The cabinet was the last job he'd secured. There'd been a few nibbles, but both had turned up scams, local crap-rags trying to out the scam exorcist. Ever since the second job he'd had a hollow thud start up in his head, and a perfect round lug in his belly. The vodka helped, but he could still feel something trying to scrape its way out of his skull.
The notice mocked him with taunts like 15 Days and May 1st. The thugs were due in about an hour; Simon had packed everything he cared about into a large vinyl backpack. He tossed the bottle back to drain the last drop, threw his pack over his shoulder, tossed the notice in the trash tin and dropped the empty bottle on the floor with an empty shatter.
Stumbling through the door, Simon grabbed his hat and hoped he could find an open package store; he desperately needed a drink.
robert is interrupted
*** Tuesday, May 15, 2007, 3 pm ***
*** Daye’s suite ***
Robert sneered at the door as it closed behind the Nightwalker. The damnable demon had dogged Amanda’s steps all day yesterday and then taken up his post in her room last night. The Nightwalker hadn’t left her side this morning, either. The only reason he was gone now was because he had scheduled training on the practice field with one of the regiments. It would arouse too much suspicion if Nightwalker didn’t show up, so Amanda had promised to remain secluded in her room while he was busy. Waiting with his ear pressed to the door had provided Robert with all of this information, which was how he knew that he finally had plenty of time to collect his due from Amanda.
Making sure the outer door was locked, Robert opened the bedroom door and stepped into Amanda’s bedroom. Amanda sat in the armchair by the window, a book open on her lap. She was looking out at the afternoon sun shining on the trees. She looked sad and a bit worried. She chewed on her lower lip with her teeth. She knew Robert had come into her bedroom. She didn’t have to turn around to know he was standing there with anger and lust in his eyes. He had made a demand and he was here to collect. Daye had gone over it again and again in her mind. There seemed to be no way around it. If she refused Robert, he would go to Lord Delancre. If she went through with it, Robert would not be satisfied with just this one time. For as long as she remained at the house, she could expect him to make demands on her again and again. If she were to turn her magic on him to shut him up, alarms would be tripped and guards would arrive. She’d end up in Delancre’s office and there was no way she’d be able to fool him then. What choice did she have? What way out was there?
“Robert.” Without looking up, Daye greeted him, “I was expecting you.”
“Look at me, Amanda,” Robert demanded petulantly. She was staring outside, ignoring him once again. She was always ignoring him. That was, until he could provide a bit of sport. He had been ignored for far too long. Robert moved across the room and grabbed Amanda’s arm roughly. He pulled her to her feet.
“Look at me, Miss High and Mighty. I’m not a piece of furniture!”
Daye swung her tired gaze up to Robert’s face. She saw the hatred, and the glee, in his gaze. She sighed. “I know you’re not,” she said. “I treated you shabbily. I was cruel and ungrateful. I’m very sorry, Robert.”
Robert’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t want her apologies. He wanted her crying and begging for his mercy. He wanted her panting beneath him. He wanted her.
“What do I care for your ‘sorries’?” Robert asked. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed for her breast. Amanda shuddered against him. “I told you what I wanted. You ready to play nice? Or should I just head down to Delancre’s office right now?”
“I… what exactly do I have to do?” Amanda asked. She sounded defeated.
“Anything and everything,” Robert replied with a sneer. She was giving in already. She was nothing but a cheap whore. He’d known that all along. “For starters, you can take off your clothes.”
Daye stepped back from Robert, her hand going to the back of her neck, where the halter of her grass green sundress was tied. She looked down at the floor. Her cheeks flushed with the heat of humiliation. She undid the knot and let the dress slide off her body and pool on the floor.
Heat surged through Robert, sweet and triumphant. Amanda stood before him, only a small scrap of lace covering her. Her breasts were bare and just within reach of his itching fingers. Robert reached out to touch, to take. He wouldn’t be gentle. He wouldn’t be merciful. He was going to make Amanda pay - for her sins and the sins of so many others.
Daye closed her eyes, trying to remove herself from this nightmare. She felt Robert’s cold, clammy hands on her breasts, pinching and squeezing painfully. She could hear his breath coming in pants. She turned her head away as he stepped closer to her, pressing his body against hers. Robert’s sour breath fanned across her face as he attempted to capture her mouth. Daye couldn’t help herself, she moved her face away.
“You aren’t being very co-operative,” Robert said.
Daye struggled to fight back the tears threatening to choke her. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t think she could. “Robert, please… isn’t there some other way?”
“No, pretty Amanda,” Robert crooned, bringing one hand up to grip her hair. He yanked hard, pulling her face back around to his. He covered her mouth with his in a bruising kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips. Daye shuddered in revulsion. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks. It’s time you made good on all that temptation.”
Daye struggled. She couldn’t help it.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand, you bastard,” the voice was a sibilant whisper of fury in the room. Robert spun around, his eyes going wide with fear when he saw the Nightwalker standing just inside the doorway. He released Amanda, who stepped back from him quickly, scrubbing her hand across her mouth in disgust.
“She… she invited me,” Robert struggled to keep his voice steady. “Tell him, Amanda, tell him that you invited me.”
Nightwalker’s eyes flew to Daye. She still stood nearly naked only a few inches away from the mage. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she slowly shook her head. “Ryan, you have to leave,” she said. “He knows… I have to do this. He’ll tell Delancre otherwise.”
Nightwalker turned his fury back on the little mage standing there looking terrified. “Is that what you told her?” he snarled, moving menacingly forward. “You told her you’d go and tattle like a schoolyard snitch. For what? Because you wanted to have sex with her. You think the fact that she won’t scream or say no, because of what you hold over her head… you think that makes you any less scum. You worthless piece of shit! I’m going to kill you.”
Robert was trying to back away, but he was caught between the demon and the mostly naked woman behind him. Robert was shaking his head, his hands thrown up to ward of the anticipated blows. “Please… you can’t… Delancre will find out.”
“Ryan,” Daye’s voice was soft and a bit scared. “Ryan, stop! Don’t hurt him. He’s right. If you do, Delancre will find out and he’ll kill you for betraying him. He’ll kill us both.”
Ryan stopped inches from Robert. His eyes flicked to Daye. “Look at him,” he pointed at Robert. “The man’s a rodent. He should die for even thinking about touching you, let alone degrading you this way. Daye, whatever I do, it’s over. He’s either gonna die or he’s gonna tell. I have to get you out of here - now. Before Delancre can get his hands on you.”
Daye bent down and pulled the dress back up over her body. “You-you’re right,” she sighed. “I don’t know why I ever thought this would work. We need to get out of here, both of us. But how?”
Robert listened to them, but said nothing. He knew that the Nightwalker was not only capable of killing him, but that the bastard would probably enjoy it. His only chance was to try and slip away.
“Maybe… I know a way out,” Nightwalker said. “If you can keep your eye on this sneaky bastard for just a little bit, I think I can get us out of here. Can you do that?”
Daye looked at Robert. She seemed disappointed and sad, but she didn’t look angry. “I can keep him here for a while. I can handle him. I have control over myself completely now. Go ahead. Do what you have to do.”
Nightwalker nodded. “All right. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t leave the room, and don’t let anyone in.”
Nightwalker paused, thinking of Natasha. “Anyone.”
Daye nodded. Nightwalker shot Robert one more warning glare, and then he slipped out of the room as silently as he had come in. Daye was alone with Robert once again.
Robert looked at Amanda. His rage and hate contorted his face. The Nightwalker had underestimated him. Robert wasn’t about to sit around and wait for that demon to go and take his prize away. Robert licked his lips and drew in a deep breath.
Daye saw Robert shift from inconspicuous to sly. She watched him warily. Robert’s mouth was moving, but she could hear no words coming from him. Daye couldn’t figure out what he was up to.
Robert chanted the sleep spell beneath his breath. He focused his magic on the link that had been formed between Amanda and himself. He funnelled the power into her, directing it. Robert pushed Amanda from consciousness, forcing her eyes to close and her body to slump.
At the last possible moment, Daye realized what was happening. It was too late to defend herself, though. She’d strengthened all her shielding, but Robert was already behind it. He’d been tied to her by the spell he maintained and she’d made a terrible mistake in not severing that link before now. As Daye slid to the ground, her eyes going blank, she realized exactly how much she’d underestimated the mousy little man.
robert goes to Delancre
*** Tuesday, May 15, 2007, 3:40 pm ***
*** Delancre’s office ***
Robert rushed past the demon playing majordomo to the First Elder, ignoring the creature’s protests. He pushed open the door and stormed into the room. Delancre was seated on the sofa with a female demon of a species Robert didn’t recognize draped across his lap. At Robert’s unexpected intrusion, Delancre shoved the demon off his body and jumped to his feet.
“Forth?!” Delancre roared. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?!”
“First Elder.”
Robert was gasping for breath. He had run all the way from Amanda’s room, his gaze darting everywhere as he watched for any sign of the Nightwalker. The demon scared him to death, and that was the truth. “I’m sorry to interrupt… I have important information… about Amanda Blaise.”
Delancre’s face twisted into a hungry sneer. He gestured to the servant who had followed Robert Forth in to take the demoness and leave. Once they were alone, Delancre turned his full attention on the man before him. Robert was sweating profusely and still trying to catch his breath.
“What is going on with Amanda?” Delancre asked. “Is she ill again?”
“No… no, Sir,” Robert replied. “She’s not sick… not at all. The voices she was hearing… they’re gone.”
Delancre waved a hand dismissively. “I don’t see that as being all that important.”
“You don’t understand what I’m saying, Sir,” Robert replied. “It’s more than just the voices, the mothers or whatever. She’s perfectly healthy now.”
“What…?” Delancre’s voice trailed off as the true import of Robert’s words sank in. He grabbed the smaller man by the shoulders and stared intently at him. “Wait. What are you saying?”
“The foreign body, whatever was tainting her mana… it’s gone,” Robert replied.
Delancre’s face went pale. He shook his head. “No, that’s impossible… You must be mistaken.”
“No, Sir, I’m not,” Robert was shaking, but he was determined to convince the First Elder. Amanda Blaise, and so many other women like her, had got away with treating him like he was worthless. This time, she was going to pay. “I’m linked to her, Sir. You know the nature of the spells in place. You must know I couldn’t possibly make a mistake about this. Amanda is free of all outside influences now.”
Robert paused. Lord Delancre looked shocked and furious. Still, he had to make the man understand all that he knew or suspected. “That’s not all, Sir. I believe she is planning some kind of deception. She spent the last two nights with that demon, the Nightwalker, but he slept on the chair in her bedroom. They want everyone to believe they’ve become lovers, but I don’t think that’s the case. For some reason, she’s putting on a show.”
“She convinced Natasha of it, I’m sure,” Robert continued. “The woman was furious when she found Nightwalker and Amanda together the other night.”
“Natasha?” Delancre’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Perhaps Robert was right, but then again perhaps not. It was quite the coincidence, Amanda and Natasha meeting after Amanda had somehow freed herself from Hyde. That would bear taking a closer look at, but not right now.
“And Nightwalker?” Delancre could scarcely believe that. The demon had always been a favorite of his, possibly because the Nightwalker was one of his earliest successes. Or perhaps even more likely because Ryan had dared to interfere with Amanda. Whatever the reason, the idea that Amanda had not only freed herself, but somehow managed to undermine the years of training and manipulation that had created the Nightwalker, well that was too infuriating. “You’re sure it was the Nightwalker?”
“Positive,” Robert replied, his face contorted with hatred. “The bastard threatened me when I confronted them.”
“You confronted them?” Delancre’s voice was deceptively mild. He reached out with his mind, seeking the truth in Robert’s. He smiled in delight at what he found. *How utterly devious and unexpected. I’ve perhaps underestimated this little man.*
Robert nodded. He had to play this carefully. “Yes, Sir… I-I was concerned. I can’t imagine what they hoped to gain from their deception. I just thought it was a betrayal of all the kindness you’ve shown to both of them. I… Perhaps I was too hasty, but I acted on impulse.”
Delancre nearly laughed aloud. *On impulse indeed. Still, I don’t begrudge him his fun. But I can’t just let him think he’s put one over on me either. I’ll have to deal with him later.*
“And where is Amanda now? Where’s the Nightwalker, for that matter?” Delancre asked, although he already knew.
“I left her in her suite,” Robert answered. “She’s unconscious. I had to, Nightwalker left me there. He’s gone to arrange their escape. Amanda was no match for me, though. They underestimated my power.”
*As did I,* Delancre thought. Still, he knew that the only reason Robert had managed to get away from Daye was because he’d been able to circumvent her defenses. “We’ll have to hurry.”
Delancre went to his desk and called Ana on her radio. He ordered her to meet him at Amanda’s room immediately and to send a team out to search the house for the Nightwalker. “Come on,” Delancre ordered Robert. “You’ve done well. I’m grateful for your loyalty. Come with me, and you can watch Amanda get exactly what’s coming to her.”
Robert followed the First Elder out of the room. He was feeling more than pleased with himself. Finally, things were starting to go his way.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007, 1.00 am
The Reaper smiled thinly as he stood before his quarry. The prey had foolishly run into an alleyway, one with a large wall at the end, a narrow street-hall full of trash and filth.
The garbage on the ground stained the bottom and sides of the Reaper’s perfectly shaped feet , but it was no matter. None of it really mattered anyhow.
The prey ran to the end of the alley, coat flapping in the rain-drenched wind. The prey looked upwards at the huge wall looming up before him and jumped without hesitation.
The Reaper’s smile disappeared. He couldn’t be allowed to escape. Swiftly, faster than any human being could see, his hand disappeared into his coat and reappeared holding a pistol. He looked, aimed and fired, all within less than a second.
The prey, twenty feet in the air, suddenly cried out and his back arched as the bullet lodged itself within his spine. He fell forwards and slammed brutally face first into the wall and slid quickly down, leaving a long, thin trail of blood.
The Reaper slowly walked forwards as the prey frantically turned around. The target reached inside his own coat and revealed a pistol, and fired frantically. Each shot missed, as the Reaper slowly advanced. Finally, they were face-to-face, no more than two feet apart. The Reaper looked down, his eyes imperceptible behind the shadow of the night. The man on the ground struggled to fire one more shot.
The bullet streaked through the short distance between them, but then it stopped suddenly, caught between the fingers of the Reaper.
“A pathetic display,” he sneered. “You have failed in every way, and now have attempted to avoid capture. Zhyzhak will have his nourishment.”
The Reaper noticed that his prey’s attention had gone behind him. A human stood there, a man. The prey’s heart skipped a beat - was escape possible?
With impossible speed, the Reaper spun and fired three times, once in the face, twice in the chest. The man flew back from the incredible force of the handgun and fell in a heap, blood streaming to mix with the rainwater draining in the gutters.
“Don’t get your hopes up. It is time for you to face your punishment.”
Slowly the injured man got up, and then he shouted and threw punch after punch.
Each blow was easily and expertly blocked, and the Reaper waited a few seconds, and then raised his leg and gave a kick, a kick so strong it threw the man backwards, but before he had hit the wall or the ground another kick landed its mark, this time a side kick that threw the injured man through the wall.
The Reaper walked slowly up to the injured prey, who struggled desperately to stand. He sneered and delivered a quick roundhouse kick to the face, then lifted the man up by his neck and held him there, struggling, until the man slowly went limp and, with a final convulsive jerk, died. His corpse glowed faintly golden and then disappeared in a small white flash.
As the Reaper shifted back into human form the horns gave way to hair and the purple and white of its skin finally settled on caucasian. The coat he was wearing was near enough dragging across the ground at this point. There where some advantages to being a demon but finding clothes that fit wasn’t one of them.
Vince stood in his oversized boxers, shivering in the cold. He looked around the alleyway and walked towards the man he had gunned down and it just occurred to him that he’d never even caught a glimpse of the man’s face. As he went through the man’s pockets he came across a wallet.
“Let’s see who you are.” As he opened the wallet he kicked the man’s body over on its front to reveal James’ grinning face.
“Hey son, I’ve missed you.”
Vince dropped the wallet and, eyes wide with fear, backed off down the alleyway, unsure of what James would do to him. He watched as James rose to his feet and brushed himself off and walked slowly towards him.
“That was quite a show you put on there, Vince. You see, I wondered how you could disappear from the tracking spell for long periods of time then just show back up again in a totally different location… that’s some bad mojo you got for yourself, kid. What demon did you sell yourself to, kid? If you tell me now we can go have words with him and you won’t be a demon any more.”
Vince, still fearful of what James would do to him, was still backing off slowly as he spoke. “You… you aren’t going to hurt me?”
James’ smile dropped from his face. “You’re family. I could never hurt you, but what you did to me and Darlome - that’s bad, Vince. It’s really bad. Darlome can’t even walk now, it will take months for him to heal again. But that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that we have found you and we want to take you back home with us back to New York, kid, away from this shit hole that is LA.”
Vince looked at James and he felt a lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Not now. I can’t face Darlome after what I did to him. I can’t even face you, I need to finish off my business here.”
James shook his head. “Then I’m going to regret having to do this.”
Before Vincent could react James was on him, one hand holding him at bay, the other reaching for a syringe. Vincent struggled against James before he spoke. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to stop you now.”
Vincent morphed into his demonic state and open palm punched James in the chest, knocking him across the long alleyway into some garbage cans.
James quickly got to his feet. “Kid, I don’t want it to end this way. Please just come with me.”
Vincent, in his full demonic glory, shook his head and sent a telekinetic blast at James, who managed to duck around the blast. It knocked out some brickwork in the wall, which James was standing in front of. James then made his move towards Vincent.
Vincent back-flipped over as James charged. Vince lashed out with one foot to strike James on the face, and the vampire fell over, his head whip-lashing. No sooner had Vince landed than James was in front of him, throwing lightning fast punches. Vince scowled, his eyes invisible, and retreated backwards from the assault, blocking every punch with his foot. Hit, block, hit, block, opening!
Vince’s foot flew forward in a close range push kick, slamming itself into James’ face. James flew backwards and saw Vince standing there. His foot in the air, he hesitated.
Suddenly another person gripped Vince from behind in a brutal bear hug that would have snapped the ribs of any human. Vince writhed, and then struck backwards with his head and, in a move impossible for a mere human being, slammed the attacker’s ribs with his heels. Vince extracted himself from his arms. Brushing off his sleeves, Vince surveyed the area, when it struck him-
This wasn’t where he had been seconds before.
It was a completely different part of the city, a part that he knew, and an arena-like place ringed by huge buildings and fire escapes surrounding it like spectator seats. Vince did not register any surprise or shock on his face.
“Nice trick, James. Did Darlome do that from all the way in New York?”
“How about this?” came the voice of James from seemingly everywhere. “We talk more, and then perhaps you’ll see it my way.”
Vince analysed the sound in his head, and pinpointed the most likely source of the voice. He strode briskly towards a door in one of the buildings.
Suddenly, a spear hand jabbed into his sternum, to reveal face of James and the human that had helped him.
Vince mock smiled. “Who the hell is that guy, James? It’s not like you to bring humans into fights.”
James’ grin was plastered widely across his face. “Well, the body is human but it’s what’s inside that counts.”
Vince turned and looked deep into the eyes of the stranger and then looked at the way he stood with his arms crossed. “Skippy?”
As Vince choked these words out James had planted a boot to his gut sending him sprawling backwards. “One and the same, Vince. It’s a nice little trick, isn’t it kid? He’s able to posses any newly dead human - of course, his magical powers are hugely depleted. I know how powerful you are, kid, but we are playing for keeps now. You’re coming with us, willingly or not!”
James swung a fist at Vince, which he easily blocked and jabbed at James’ ribs, lifting the vampire off the ground with each blow. Vince got to his feet and grabbed James by the jacket and sent him hurtling through a brick wall.
Vince was prepared to go in and knock out James once and for all but quickly realized the vampire wasn’t getting back up after the experience. Before he had time to even think about making off he felt pain coursing through his body as a ball of lighting stuck him. He feel to his knees in pain as the body possessed with Darlome’s essence walked slowly in front of him.
“Hi, kid. I just want you to know I don’t hate you for what you did to me, but I am going to enjoy throwing you a beat down.”
Vince telekinetically pushed Darlome across the arena-like surroundings, giving Vince some breathing time. *Ok, Vince, how can you stop a top class mage from blasting your ass into oblivion?* A smile spread across Vince’s lips as he lifted Darlome high into the air using his telekinesis, and began to crush the bones of the possessed body hoping to knock it out.
Darlome chuckled. “Kid, it’s a dead body. You could rip its arms out of its sockets and I could still beat you.”
Before Vincent realized what was going on it was too late. The shadows had surrounded him and formed into the shape of eight large tentacles and hundreds of smaller tentacles ripping themselves around him. Vincent noticed these weren’t the same kind of tentacles like in the apartment - these ones were serrated and cut Vince as they dug deeply into his flesh.
Vince couldn’t concentrate from the pain and the broken body that Darlome possessed dropped to the ground with a crack as its legs broke on impact, but still the body rose again and walked impaired towards Vincent.
“Vincent, this is for your own good.” Darlome held his hand across his young friend’s face, chanted a few words and watched as the boy’s body went limp. “Sleep well, my young friend.”
The shadow tentacles disappeared as Darlome hoisted the body on his shoulders. By this point James was on his feet again but his head was so badly cracked open you could see the pulsing of his dead brain in his head.
“Darlome, take him home. I’ll join you in a few days. There is someone I need to care of in LA.”
Darlome gave his long time friend a nod and turned and walked into the shadows. He disappeared from sight without saying a word, knowing what James meant to do.
James pulled a phone from his coat and dialled a number. He placed the phone to his ear as it began to ring. “Hey, John. Has the meeting been arranged with Raul yet? Good, you’re off the hook for all that money you owed me from New York. Nice doing business with you, mate.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** Sunday, May 13, 2007 5:43 PM ***
The large black man with the friendly brown eyes and the salt-and-pepper beard stepped forward to greet the tired-looking man with the long brown hair and the world-weary expression. “You must be Oz,” he said, extending a meaty hand.
Oz nodded. “I’m not a celebrity or anything, Mr…”
“Coulter. Mike Coulter. But you can call me Mike. Your friend Alessa asked me to meet you here. Truth be told, I wanted to meet you anyways. She speaks as highly of you as Ellis Longwood speaks badly of you. Since I work with both of those folks, I thought I might see for myself what all the fuss was about.”
Mike’s smile was contagious and even though he didn’t feel like he had much reason, Oz smiled back weakly as he returned the dangling handshake. Mike was enthused and quickly claimed the plastic sack from Oz and led him to the parking lot and the awaiting van.
Mike was quiet as they drove, for which Oz was grateful. As they got off the freeway, Oz looked back. “That wasn’t the exit for Santa Monica,” he said in puzzlement.
“Nope,” Mike replied, “I am not taking you home just yet. I want to have you checked out by my doctors. I want them to look at that arm and do a few tests.”
“Tests?”
“Nothing elaborate, Oz,” Mike said reassuringly, “just a blood test, and maybe a quick CAT scan.”
“Mike, I appreciate the desire to get me checked out, but it really isn’t necessary. I’m –”
Mike turned to face Oz. “Look, we are footing the bill for your lawyer and we are writing your paychecks. So, we can take a few harmless tests if we want to.”
Oz sat quietly and fumed for a short while. He could quit, certainly. There would be nothing that Mike could do to stop him. But he would not want to leave Alessa in the lurch. That, and he still had to pay his attorney. So here he was, stuck. It was just a few tests, nothing serious. But something still bothered him.
“Who is we, Mike?”
Mike pulled into a large office building and pointed to it. “Longwood, Inc. Despite what you may think we really aren’t some Draconian conglomerate that is going to swallow everything in our path. We are a ‘caring, philanthropic company concerned with the wellbeing of humanity wherever we do business’. Or so the brochures tell me anyway. Personally it is a job for me, and I do my job very well.”
Oz had to like Mike’s attitude. He was a soldier who did his job. He answered to something higher and he didn’t get lost in the little guys he dealt with on a daily basis. But he never forgot that they needed attention either. *I used to be like that – before,* Oz thought.
Inside the gleaming building, Oz was taken to an examination room where a lab tech offered him coffee and a place to change. Mike excused himself and left. Oz looked at some of the sophisticated equipment. *Very expensive medical equipment in the ‘field office’ of an import-export company. Curioser and curiouser.*
Before long a doctor came in and after some basic measurements he took a blood sample and had Oz lie on a cold plastic table. The table slid into an enormous round ring that hummed slightly and made Oz’s nose tickle. Several times the doctor had to remind him to stay perfectly still.
After what seemed like an eternity Oz was removed from the ring and allowed to put back on some clothing. But when he got to the changing room, he found that his t-shirt and jeans were gone and in their place were slacks and a stylish shirt. His work boots had been replaced with some nice leather shoes.
The clothes were obviously new so Oz donned them and admired their fit in the mirror before stepping out. Mike Coulter was there. “Glad to see you got the clothes, Oz. I had my PA run out and get something for you -she’s better than any girlfriend I ever had at picking clothes. Hope you like them.”
“Stylish,” Oz said, “But why?”
“Just because everyone deserves something nice once in a while. And I felt like you needed to be treated with some respect. If you look like you deserve respect, people give it to you.”
“Mike, I hope you and I stay friends for a long time,” Oz said, “Although I wish you’d give me a few answers about Longwood, Inc.”
Mike’s jovial expression loosened for a moment. He looked almost sad. “Oz, I wish I could. But I am not the person who needs to tell you. Ellis and Alessa are the ones you need to ask. Ellis has been – well let’s say he’s not himself. And Alessa, she’s been in the thick of things. Me? I’m just the messenger. They are the source.”
Oz clapped Mike on the back jovially. “Fair enough, Mike. I can understand that more than you could ever know. But you’ve been straight with me even if you haven’t been forthcoming. Can I go home now?”
“Sure. Unless you’d like to go out and have a beer with me?”
Oz almost salivated. Beer. It was like a magic word. “Sure, just one.”
At a stylish bar in LA and four beers later Oz was well into his cups. He was telling Mike about Christmas. “And then the judge says, ‘That is hearsay, since God isn’t here to testify on your behalf’. I was furious.”
Mike dropped some bills on the bar and patted Oz’s hand. “Time to go, buddy. You’ve talked enough for one day. I don’t want you to get into trouble with the court.”
Oz realized he had not had a sympathetic ear in so long he had been positively babbling. He was embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Mike, I didn’t mean to –”
Mike stopped him. “Don’t worry about it Oz, I know how you feel. I used to do the same thing to my brother back in the day. Not that he had any idea what I was talking about. But he did the best thing he could have done, he listened.”
*Like I do for Alessa. This is an odd circle we have here,* Oz mused in silence, *Mike to Ellis to Alessa to me to Mike.*
Mike drove him back to Longwood Estates. Alessa’s VW was not parked in the court so Oz went straight up to his apartment. Mike had given him a card so that he could reach him directly if needed.
Once the light came on in Oz’s apartment, Mike Coulter was on his cell phone. “Doc, did you get the results of those tests? Yes, Oz DeAngelo.” There was a pause. “I see. Okay, I will be sure to tell Alessa. You are certain, then? Thanks, Doc.”
Mike locked his glove compartment with the taser in it. He was glad he was not going to need to use it on Oz. He liked the guy. There was something comforting about his presence. But the tests had been negative. The virus, by some miracle, had missed Oz DeAngelo.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday 14th May, 2007
Longwood Estates
3 pm
The sunlight streamed through the closed blinds into Oz's room and he glanced at the clock. 03:00 PM. Clocks were a luxury he had missed in jail. He had tried working on the yard some but it was difficult to get back into the swing after having been on a less productive schedule. Jail meant getting up at the same time, sitting around or exercising in your room until lunch, then back to the bunks until dinner. It was boring and it sapped the will out of you. Oz remembered it vividly enough from the first time. He rolled off the bed as he heard a car pulling into the driveway. If nothing else, the events of the last few days had increased his paranoia.
It was Alessa. She was home from work and would no doubt be up here as soon as possible to ask all sorts of questions. "Why did you attack Ellis?" and "What sort of criminal are you?" among them.
Oz wanted to hide but he owed her as much explanation as he had. He was hoping she would have more answers for him than he for her. Why had Mike Coulter taken him for blood tests and CAT scans? What was Cole talking about, a 'virus' that made him evil? What exactly was Longwood, Inc? It was a barrage of mysteries he didn't feel equipped to bother her with. And yet, he had a desire to know.
Alessa parked her VW and jumped out, shading her eyes as she looked up to Oz's windows. Donny had told her when she came in the morning that Oz had arrived the day before, which only confirmed her suspicions that the woman's connections to Longwood Inc were stronger than the usual worker. She had arrived so late the day before that she hadn't really noticed. She closed the car's door and headed towards the garages. She needed to talk to Oz, she felt guilty about the whole situation.
Walking slowly up the stairs Alessa remembered the few times she'd been in Oz's apartment, and smiled. No matter what had happened, she'd do her best to convince Oz to stay. She suspected he'd want to leave after what had happened and she couldn’t blame him. At the door she straightened her blouse and skirt and blew the hair off her eyes before knocking.
Oz opened the door and squinted at the bright daylight. He had not felt much like being in the sun and now he looked like some strange shut-in. "Hello, Alessa, I've been expecting you."
Alessa felt more guilty than ever when she studied his tired face. He looked pale and sick, even if he had been in jail for only a couple of days. She smiled nervously.
"Hi Oz, mind if I come in?" she asked and entered his small cozy apartment after his welcoming gesture, then she turned and smiled apologetically. "I'm so sorry about all this!"
Oz smiled weakly at her. He stood aside to let her enter, "There's no reason for you to be sorry. It happened. I'm just glad you were there to help get me out. If not for you and Mike, I'd have been in there a long time."
Oz sat down in the comfy chair and waved for Alessa to sit as well. "I suppose you have questions. Who goes first in situations like these?"
Alessa chuckled; relieved to see the man was taking things calmly. "Well, I've talked to Cole, so I pretty much know what happened, and I spoke to Mike too… so unless there's something else you want to tell me, I'm ready to let you go first." She smiled again. "I guess you have your own questions, right?"
*That's an understatement,* Oz thought. "I do, starting with- What is the deal with all the tests? Mike took me to a lab, took a blood sample and a CAT scan. And then he would not tell me what it was all about. Cole mentioned some sort of virus. Does this have anything to do with that? And what is the Longwood Company doing mixed up in biological weapons? Aren't they just an import/export company? What have I gotten mixed up in?"
Oz paused for a second. He realized he had risen to his feet as the questions had cascaded out of his doubts and fears. He was practically standing over Alessa. He shook his head and rubbed his face as he sat back down.
"I'm sorry, Alessa, it's been a crazy past few weeks. With Cole, Kyle, Ellis, Anderson, and now this virus, I don't know what is going on any more."
*Deep shit, that's what's going on.* Alessa thought, and winced. Well, Oz deserved the truth, and if he wanted to leave after hearing it she wouldn’t detain him, much that she regretted it. "Bueno, I'll tell you all you want to hear, and maybe a couple or two things you don’t want to hear too," she started, standing up and looking around, "but first I'd like some coffee, if you don’t mind."
When Oz started to get up, Alessa gestured with her hands, "No, please. This time I want to get to drink the stuff, just tell me where things are."
Oz chuckled. "My wife had her own coffee pot, and she wouldn't drink any of mine. My son swore he'd never drink coffee as long as he lived. I guess I like it a little strong."
He pulled out the filters and coffee and showed her how the pot worked. While she moved around the kitchen Oz began to question her again. "So I suppose I should start with this virus. What is that all about?"
"Well, first of all it's not a biological weapon." Her hands stopped mid motion and she frowned, "At least that we know of… " She shook her head, dismissing the sudden thought. *I'm sounding like Nikolai,* she said to herself and continued talking. "And it's definitely not the company's doing."
Alessa leaned on the kitchen counter and crossed her arms on her chest while she waited for the water to boil. "Now, Longwood Inc is an import/export company, but they also deal with some non traditional cargo, if you catch my drift. Their 'Magic & Relics' branch is quite extensive."
"Hence your connection, as a demoness," Oz said, catching on.
"Well, actually my connection is a little more complicated than that," Alessa smiled. "Ernie, Ellis' father, was best friends with my first lover, although actually Morris was more than just that; and we became friends too. After Morris died we kept in touch and Ernie used the company's resources to help me now and then.
"However, back to the virus. After I came back from Colombia, it seems that I brought this thing with me..." Alessa bit her lip, a shadow going through her face. She still was at odds with the fact that she had been in part responsible for this nightmare.
"So you caught it in Colombia... or… the renegade Watchers gave it to you?" The horror of the idea made Oz's eyes go wide. "My God, they planned to infect everyone..."
"That's another problem, it seems there weren't rogue Watchers who did all this..." Alessa kept staring out of the window, she couldn't face Oz right then.
Oz waited and when the sound of the coffee brewing was finally louder than his own heartbeat he asked, "If it wasn't them, who was it?"
"The Council's First Elder." Alessa said at last, "At least that's what we think." She took a deep breath and turned around. "Maybe not the virus, we really don't know about that, but the kidnappings, the demons, the tortures... that we are pretty sure of."
"Isn't there a Vampire Slayer that works with the Council? Maybe she could help you with the First Elder." But Oz could see that that wasn't going to work from Alessa's expression.
"She's totally under his control," Alessa said, remembering Ana's besotted looks at Delancre.
"Then who is left? Someone has to be able to cure this." Oz was outraged. Here was an organization pledged to preserving all life, and it was using its resources to harm humanity.
"Well, there's a small group of us who are trying..." Alessa answered, suddenly ashamed. What would Oz think of her ragged group of misfits? The White Hats had had no time to be before the virus had destroyed them. "We aren't many, but at least we are trying to figure out what this virus is and how to cure it."
"So Mike, the tests… Ellis, I guess is infected - that would explain a lot. Is there anyone else? Kyle? You? Can I help?"
Alessa smiled weakly, those were too many questions at once. "Ellis is infected, yes. The company doctors were the first to diagnose it, after he noticed his own 'strange' behaviour and Mike had him checked."
Oz felt powerless, science wasn't his strongest suit. He wasn't sure there was anything he could do. Suddenly a dark thought crossed his mind, and he began to shake. He stood up and backed away from Alessa. "Oh God, if I'm infected... Please, God, don't let me be infected."
The man was clearly in a state of panic. "I've never been sick a day in my life, Alessa. I don't know what it would be like. I have no idea if I'm going to turn, too."
Alessa moved quickly towards Oz, worried by his sudden and obvious fear. "No, you aren't," she hurried to assure him. "I spoke with Mike earlier, he told me your results had been negative." She got next to the man and rested her hands surely on his arms. "You are not infected, Oz."
Oz's breathing returned to normal although his heart was still racing. "Alessa, you don't want to even consider what an evil angel is like."
She smiled, and rubbed her palms on his suddenly freezing arms. "I won't need to consider it. You are ok, Oz."
Oz's hands were still jittery as he poured a cup of hot coffee for both of them. "So if I am not infected, what about Cole and Kyle?"
"Cole was infected, of course." She took the cup and drank, before going on. "He isn't any more, thank God. I don't know about Kyle, haven't seen him since Cole left." *I wouldn't be surprised if he were,* she added to herself, remembering the annoying Kaoshian and wondering what had happened with him.
"Alessa, that doesn't leave anyone clear except Mike and me," Oz said gravely.
"Well, Mike is just human." Alessa nodded. "We've discovered that the virus feeds on 'mana', know what that is?"
"Manna? That's the food that God gave the Israelites in the desert. Or did you mean mana from the Maori rituals? It is sort of a life force that is consumed. An energy sacrificed for power."
She frowned. "That sounds more or less what Kate mentioned, yes. Kate's our resident Wicca," she explained. "The virus feeds on the mana of those who aren't human, or have some supernatural traits. Ordinary people are not affected."
"Mana is a finite resource, however, unless it comes from living things. If the virus eats it, it should be as simple as eliminating the supply of food. Drain the mana from the person. Right?" To Oz it seemed a very evident solution.
Alessa's shaking head told him otherwise. "It's not that simple. Mana can come from being psychic, or demonic. It's not something you can just remove."
Oz was beginning to understand the problem. "So this Kate knows the monster, but not the magic and Mike has the medicine, but not the magic. Who knows the magic?" he asked.
"Delancre?" asked Alessa, sipping her coffee and avoiding his eyes. "That's the First Elder's name. If this is his doing he must know how to remove it."
Oz leaned forward. "Anyone capable of hatching a plan this... diabolical will likely have a back door ready to use if it gets out of hand. So far, however, it appears to have done exactly what he wanted it to do - disrupt any active resistance in LA for whatever plan he has in mind. Alessa, this has got to be the tip of a very big iceberg. People like this Delancre don't plan chaos, they use it."
Alessa looked at him intently; that hadn't occurred to her but it was true. "Use it? We..." she closed her mouth, and breathed before going on. "Well, whatever he wanted, if it was him indeed who planned all this at least now we are aware of the virus and about the renegades stuff being pura mierda; we have some things up in our sleeves too."
Oz set the coffee down and began to gesture with his hands, "Alessa, it seems pretty clear that he did do it, why would you defend him? Everything you have told me leads right back to Delancre. What are you waiting for? You and Mike should move against him now before whatever plan he has in mind takes effect."
"I think you are underestimating Delancre or overestimating us, Oz. And we are doing something!" She looked at him, annoyed. "Hell, figuring the virus out wasn’t easy, and if it weren’t for Ellis the company wouldn’t be involved either! What do you propose? That our army of five enters the mansion and fight the hundreds of demons he has there?"
*Army. Of demons.* The thought sent a chill down Oz's spine. It was The Fall all over again. He had been on God's side urging on his allies and striking at his enemies but his enemies used to be his allies. Oz's eyes filled up with the painful memories. He took Alessa's hand and squeezed it.
"I know that that is all you can see now, but trust me that as you make the call, others will rise to fight. Some of them will come from unexpected quarters and more will come forth to defend right." Oz's voice was low and soft, "Alessa, you are in the forefront of this battle and, like it or not, you are as good a commander as any. It is your call to attack or defend. I will follow your orders. My advice is to attack, but if you say wait, I will wait. However, don't forget to sound the charge loud enough for me to hear!"
Alessa squeezed back Oz's hand, it was good to feel his strength. "I don’t feel like a commander, Oz. Much more like a Mata Hari." She looked away again. "Delancre has been playing with me, Oz; for some reason it seems I'm in the middle of his plans indeed."
"This Delancre character sounds like a dangerous man. If you are in his sights it would be a lot safer to stay under cover until you are ready to move. Unless you have some leverage you could use against him?"
Oz looked at Alessa. She had been avoiding his gaze and beating around the bush ever since she arrived. This was more than her usual shy manner. "Alessa, how are you and Delancre involved?"
She sighed and turned to look at Oz. "Delancre is Stuart, the Watcher who brought me those photographs I told you about. I discovered it last week when my friends and I entered the Council's mansion in LA. He used a fake identity to get in touch with me and into my confidence…" *And into my bed.*
She laughed, a dry sound without any humour. "And he did a great job out of it, I totally fell for it. Well, two can play that game."
Oz tried not to look shocked, that would not be either helpful or in keeping with his promise to be a place for Alessa to 'talk it off' but inwardly he had to cringe. That sort of betrayal had to cut deep.
"Be careful, querida," said Oz, "Delancre sounds like a man who is three steps ahead of the devils and he will not be easy to fool."
Alessa smiled, and tears welled up in her eyes. Trust Oz not to make her feel judged. She leaned forward impulsively and hugged him, feeling comforted by his composure and warm affection. "I will, Oz. Voy a tener cuidado."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
May 15th
9:45 am
Hilton Hotel
Inés opened her eyes. She was breathing quickly and her dilated pupils hurt in the bright light of morning. She was sitting lotus position in the middle of the room and she looked around, a little dazzled. When she had started meditating it had been just dark; she had spent all night at it. Tiredly, she morphed back into human form. Her hair was matted with perspiration and a gleaming sheen covered her naked body. She shivered at the sudden contrast with the room’s ambience and the soft breeze coming from the open window.
“Humans should have fur,” she groaned as she stiffly rose and headed to the bathroom. She needed a long hot shower.
Under the soothing spray of water, Inés reflected on what she’d learnt during the night. She had established a telepathic communication with her grandfather, after relegating it for too long. Her concern over Alessa’s behaviour had been too clear in her, and she had been surprised at learning that the old Verbati had known all along.
Inés shook her head under the hot spray. She must have lived too long among humans since she was certainly losing the ways of her kind. She couldn’t really grasp why Shongu had known and yet done nothing. Alessa was immersed in a self destructive path, and she had to stop her.
Turning off the water, the demoness got dressed and left for the Armoury. She needed to talk to Alessa.
10:30 am
The Armoury
“And you’re surprised?” snorted Alessa without looking at her cousin, while she gave a customer his change.
“Thank you, please return.” She smiled at the man and turned to wait on yet another customer, leaving Inés to follow her. The Armoury was swarming this morning and she didn’t really have time to deal with Inés’ complaints about their grandfather.
“No, I’m sorry we don’t do deliveries.” She continued working, with Inés in tow. “I can't talk now, Inés. And I’m not sure I want to talk about it anyway.” Alessa smiled at the customer and proceeded to show him the assortment of crossbows the store offered.
“Don’t worry, I can wait,” answered her cousin, and moved aside to do just that. She wasn’t letting Alessa get out of this, but she could understand her being busy. Her boss was waiting on the ‘demonic’ entrance in the basement, and that Russian guy wasn’t around. “Just don’t pay attention to me.”
Alessa snorted again. “I won't,” she answered and started to demonstrate to the costumer how easily the fine state-of-the-art crossbow she was showing him could be loaded.
About an hour later, Nikolai arrived. Assessing Inés with a glance he moved behind the counter and waited a few minutes for Alessa to finish the sale.
“I’ll take charge from here, Alessa. Go have a coffee and talk with your cousin,” he said, smiling at her. “Where’s Reah?”
“Downstairs,” Alessa answered, relieved at being released, albeit for a few minutes. The morning had indeed been a fast one. Besides, Inés’ presence was making her nervous. “I’ll take fifteen minutes and go there myself. Thanks Nik,” she added, giving his hand a small squeeze for emphasis.
“No problem, enjoy,” he answered, without paying her much attention. He was already talking to a ‘film noir’-like woman who needed a small gun. God only knew for what.
Leading Inés towards the back of the store, Alessa made a gesture for her to sit down in one of the two plush couches in the employees area. She filled two mugs with the dark hot beverage and offered one to her.
“Ok, what’s that important that you couldn’t wait till if finished work?” she asked, watching the demoness curl on the couch. She sipped her coffee and savoured it before swallowing. It had been a long night and caffeine was welcomed.
Inés studied Alessa. She looked tired, now that she had her defences low. It was easy for them to pretend health, but that same pretence was tiring. At least Alessa still felt comfortable enough with her to reveal her true face. It was clear that she had started that crazy plan of hers. Inés tried to read her and couldn’t.
“You are doing it, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Doing what?” Alessa asked, blowing the steam above the mug. She knew exactly what Inés was asking, but didn’t want to explain herself. She knew Inés knew the answer too. “Don’t ask what you already know, Inés. No seas pesada.”
Inés sighed. “Ok, I can't reason with you when you close yourself like that. You are being careful, at least, verdad?”
Alessa rolled her eyes. “Of course. I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid.”
“Now, so our dear grandfather knew I’m infected with this ‘Limbic virus’ and did nothing. Again, does it surprise you?”
Alessa gave a small laugh. “Actually what surprises me is that you’re telling me. You didn’t bother the last time,” she added bitterly.
Inés blushed; she still felt guilty for accepting Shongu’s orders and having kept the turning of her lover hidden from her, or having abandoned Alessa during that awful time. No wonder she was resentful, but it wasn’t the moment to let old grudges get in the way.
“I already said I was sorry, Alessa. Lo pasado pisado, prima.”
“Yeah, it’s already over,” Alessa agreed, “but I still don’t understand what you were looking for talking to Shongu.”
“I was looking for enlightment on this problem, what else!” Inés said. “And I found it.”
“You did?” Alessa asked, lazily sipping her coffee.
Inés was irritated, Alessa didn’t sound interested in the least. “Listen, Ale, Shongu knew about the virus because I had it too.”
At this Alessa finally straightened in her chair, her attention focused in Inés. “But your tests were negative,” she said worriedly. If Inés was infected then the testing wasn’t reliable.
“No, no. I didn’t say I am infected, I said I was infected. I just dealt with it in the way of our kind; the thing didn’t stand a chance.”
At Alessa's sigh of relief Inés went on. “Escuchá, you are also dealing with it Verbati way, only you aren’t aware. Your human side is trying to use whatever human methods there are…” she made a waving gesture with her hands, she really didn’t know how humans dealt with infections, “and it's just failing miserably.”
“But then-” Alessa started but her cousin interrupted her.
“I said you are doing it unconsciously. Somehow every time you morph you unsettle the thing and make it start working all over again. You change your gene codes, and it loses its grip on you. That’s why it hasn’t affected you so much.”
Alessa blinked. It made sense. She’d been morphing a lot lately; never in her life had she found it so easy or so quick. Neither had she felt so comfortable with her demon nature. She also remembered Kate telling her how her aura had brightened when she had taken Tash’s form too, as if cleansing. It did make sense.
She had never reflected much about how her body fought infections. She hardly ever got sick and her wounds healed really quickly, compared to humans, although much slower than full Verbati. She knew that her full blooded kin reacted in a different way, though.
For them open wounds could be closed quickly, even while fighting. Of course, repairing flesh, knitting bones and, worst of all, regrowing nerves, took more time, but it was a common practice. Even regrowing severed limbs or missing organs was an ability her full blooded kin possessed. It was a long, slow process of regeneration but it was done. However, she had never been able to do it, not that way. Her human immune system usually took charge, overriding the demonic one.
“Anyway, I don’t heal like you do, Inés. Even if I’m doing it, I’m not having much luck. It seems I’m just slowing the virus down, nothing else.”
“Ale, you are already doing things you couldn’t do before.” Inés leant over the table and took Alessa’s hands in hers. "Your morphing abilities are getting better. Hell, not better, you are morphing as well as I do now. Listen dear, there’s no reason you can't do this. I’ll be there to guide you, and Shongu as well-”
“What are you talking about, Inés?” Alessa asked, fear creeping into her.
“I’m taking about your taking your Primal Form, Alessa.”
Alessa shook her head, really scared this time. Primal Form. The most difficult, yet most resilient form that a Verbati could take was that of Primal Form. When Verbati took this state they became totally tuned in to their shapeshifting ability, so that they instantly reacted and changed to fight anything threatening in their environment or inside themselves. The primal forms could vary, according to the threat the demon was facing. In that form Verbati could instantly adapt to changes in environment, temperature or surroundings, or just get in stasis - alive but with suspended growth and reduced metabolism - and wait for the threat to disappear.
But it was very dangerous and only older Verbati could really manage it. It was very difficult to remain conscious in Primal Form, and few could. Personality, intelligence and conscience, the 'soul’, was easily lost and if dormant, or in stasis, sometimes it was impossible to 'wake up’ again. Because of this, taking one’s primal form was usually a measure of last resort.
“I can’t manage it Inés. We don’t even know if I can do it.” Alessa kept shaking her head. There were terrible stories of Verbati that remained stuck in their primal forms, dormant for centuries until they died of starvation.
“You won’t be alone, Alessa. I’ll be with you, guiding you. And so will be Shongu, through me,” Inés repeated. She could understand Alessa’s fears, but it was almost certain that her Primal Form would kill that wretched virus. “You don’t have many options; your friends aren’t any closer to the cure.”
Alessa disentangled her hands from her cousin’s and stood up. She walked a few steps away and turned around. The offer was tempting; it was risky but it was surely worth it. Moreover, knowing that her grandfather would be there, even if not in physical form, was enough to reassure her. The old Verbati was very wise and powerful, and if somebody could make her survive that ordeal it would be Shongu.
Yet she doubted. She remembered the conversation with Nikolai the previous day and she knew she couldn’t afford being cured, not as yet. She was in too deeply with Delancre. And she was pulling it off so well because she really wanted the man. As much as she despised herself for that reason, when she was with him she forgot about how much she loathed the First Elder and just let the virus lust rule her. Knowing she was playing a double game there made it even more thrilling. It was even liberating.
She just couldn’t afford being cured just now.
“No,” she said softly, without turning.
“No? What do you mean? You won’t try it?” Inés looked at her, puzzled. “But I told it’d be safe, Sho-”
“No,” Alessa repeated, interrupting Inés. “I'm not doing it, but not for that reason.”
“Oh?” Inés raised an eyebrow, and tapped her long nails in the table. “And what would be your reason for wanting your life to continue being wrecked?”
Alessa turned around and stared seriously at her cousin. “I can’t go on with my plans if I’m cured. There’s no way I could disguise my feelings for Delancre if I wasn’t infected.” She ran her hands through her hair and sat down, dismayed.
“I know this may sound ruthless and cold-blooded and you probably are thinking the worst of me… but I believe he’s starting to trust me, and a great part of that trust is based in my bedding him, and enjoying it.” She held her cousin’s stare. “I can’t now. Not just now.”
Inés laughed. “I wouldn’t dare to judge you for enjoying sex, Alessa. Dios knows I’ve had my share of ruthlessness in my sex life.” She took her cousin’s hand again. “I just worry about you, it’s a treacherous path you’ve chosen. This man is dangerous, you could end up killed… or worse.”
Alessa returned Inés’ hand pressure. “I’m taking care, and ironically, not curing myself is actually taking care.” She smiled and added, “I’ll just keep morphing completely at least once a day, so I don’t let the wretched virus take too much control, ok?”
She chuckled. “What do you think? I'll make the virus work for me and not against me.”
Inés sighed and stood up. She knew there was no talking to Alessa when she took a decision like this, and for the Primal Form changing to work she needed to do it completely willingly. Besides, if Alessa kept morphing her scheme could actually work.
“Well, it seems that’s all I'll be able to get from you today. Just call me when you are ready to do the Primal changing.” She smiled and nodded towards the front of the store. “Now go replace your boss or you’ll end up fired. I think we overstayed your fifteen minutes.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, May 15th 2007
1:05 pm
Kate's House (eventually)
Alessa prepared to leave the store, after making a cash account and locking the crystal display cases. Her mind had been whirling around what Inés had told her all morning and she had gone through her duties like an automaton. *Primal Form!* she thought again and shivered, knowing that sooner or later she'd had to do it. Brushing the thought aside, she checked that everything was okay to leave the store to Reah for the afternoon. The Armoury was still underemployed, and the woman usually had a bad time in the afternoons, especially with Nikolai not keeping regular hours; usually he'd be away for hours arranging shipments or getting huge contracts. Reah really should get more help, she thought and closed the cash register with a loud thump.
Walking to the back of the store she smiled at Reah and handed her the keys to the display cases. "Well, Reah, if you don’t need me for anything more, I'm gone."
Her boss waved her hand distractedly and continued polishing the curved swords that had arrived just that morning. Alessa bit her lip; she really should stay and help a little more, but then she snorted inwardly. It wasn’t her fault that Reah wasn’t hiring, and she did have things to do in the afternoon.
"Ok then, bye," she said and headed back to the front room, where Nikolai was. She was going to ask Kate for help with the charms and had decided it'd be best if she asked Nikolai along for support, she was sure the witch wouldn’t be happy about her schemes.
"Nik, I'm going to Kate's now, I was wondering if you could come with me," she started, suddenly shy, her mouth curved in a smile. "I guess I'm too cowardly to talk to her alone…"
Nikolai looked at her in surprise at the mention of that, not so much in her going to see Kate as much as calling herself a 'coward'. The woman was involved in a plan to seduce a sadistic man who had no problem using torture as a means of keeping his troops in line, and who had been responsible for keeping her prisoner and doing god-knows-what to her. And she was a 'coward'? *Then again, I would be afraid to tell Katya I was doing this as well.*
"Da, I will. We can take my car," he suggested, leading her out to the G'rnathan Monte Carlo, before speeding to Kate's house.
Kate scribbled down a few symbols as she smoothed out the pages of Jimmy Han’s notebook. She had found a few interesting references to a chemical compound refereed to only as Hyde 232. It appeared to be something that the scientists at Isla Nublada had been developing in relation to the Xenowarrior project. Han’s notes were particularly unclear and vague but it seemed Hyde was a prototype virus in mystical germ warfare. It was a long shot but right now it was the only lead that Kate had that might indicate where the virus that had infected all her friends had come from.
"Hyde," mumbled Kate to herself as she ground up some herbs into a small cauldron, and added a pinch of purple power which caused the whole mixture to fizz and boil in a haze of vermilion smoke. “Figures, everyone’s been acting like they’ve got a bad case of Jekyll and Hyde syndrome…”
Kate had just begun to extract a sample of the finished potion when the doorbell rang. She sighed, ignoring it for a minute as she decanted the crimson liquid into a small bottle and turned down the heat. She ran her fingers over the mouse cage that rested on the table, the small furry rodent stretching onto its hind legs to sniff at her hand, his whiskers twitching curiously.
“I guess we’ll have to wait a little longer to try this out huh?” she said before making her way to answer the front door.
Nikolai tried to reassure Alessa that she had nothing to worry about when he noticed the door opening. "Katya, hello," he said with a smile growing across his face. It was always good to see her, and maybe she could convince Alessa of the foolishness of her plan. Though he doubted it, she was too determined. “How are you doing today?”
“Koyla… Alessa…” Kate beamed at the sight of her friends. She had meant to call them about Will’s arrival the other day but she had become so caught up in her research after arriving home from being tested that she had completely forgotten. “Come inside,” she said happily, leading the way back into the kitchen, clearing away the papers and spell ingredients from the table. “I was just about to test out my latest attempt,” she explained, gesturing towards the mouse in the cage.
Alessa smiled and exchanged a glance with Nikolai, it was good to see Kate in such good humor. Then she looked at the caged mouse and frowned. "What are you trying to do?" she asked.
Kate noticed Alessa’s frown and picked up the cage, taking it to a more secluded spot and setting it down. “Well I’ve been working at the mana extraction for a while; it’s more of a case of testing out what I’ve learnt.” Kate decided to leave it there. She didn’t think Alessa or Nikolai would be all that happy to know that she’d already ‘tested’ her methods before with fatal results.
“Actually, I think I’m making progress,” she lied, masking her untruth entirely from her empathic friend. She might have hit something of a brick wall of late, despite the information in Jimmy’s notebook, but she wasn’t about to crush the hope that her friends had placed in her. Besides, she had Coulter’s offer of help and there were always ways and means… even if they were less palatable options.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a social call,” she speculated, noticing the aura of unease around Alessa. Kate was glad that Galen and Tony had both left after breakfast there would be little chance of them being disturbed and it seemed that they had much to talk about. “Has something happened?”
Alessa wetted her lips, doubting. She had come with a single purpose, but now realized that her friends should know what Inés had told her, it may even help Kate in some way. She was searching for a cure and she had been offered a cure. Of course, not one that a human being could use, but it may add a little information.
"Actually, this morning I learnt something interesting, I received a visit from my cousin, Inés." She looked at Kate, she didn’t know if the woman even knew about her cousin. At Kate's intrigued expression Alessa went on. "Inés is a full Verbati, and she was infected too…" She hurried to assure them, "but she's not any more." Alessa fidgeted with the string of her purse, and in few sentences she told them about the Verbati's way of dealing with infections and about Inés proposition.
Nikolai exchanged interested glances with Kate at hearing that. It meant that at least one of them wouldn't be reliant on finding a way to extract mana to be cured, if the shapeshifting was any indication. Still, if Delancre decided that he had a shapeshifting fetish, things could easily get bad. "Are you sure you do not wish to use it?" he asked, feeling Kate's confusion at the statement. "I will let Alessa tell you her plan. Perhaps you can point out the dangers better."
Alessa sent Nik a killing glance, he was not helping. Then she turned to Kate's purposely bland face and sighed. "Está bien, I'm not using it because I need to stay infected in order to continue to guile Delancre," she said in a quick tirade, only taking time to breathe in again before going on. "I told him I know who he is and I intend to get him to trust me."
She stopped talking and tentatively watched the witch's face. "I'll keep morphing though, to keep the virus at bay…"
A mixture of confusion and apprehension spread across Kate’s face at Alessa’s defensive outburst and she sat down at the table, running a hand through her hair in contemplation, an uneasy sigh escaping her lips. “You told him you know?” she repeated in amazement. She couldn’t believe that Delancre hadn’t just killed her on the spot after such a reckless revelation; it must mean he had more need for Alessa than just a means to satisfy his base appetites.
“And you’re going back for more?” Kate rose from her seat, the chair legs scraping on the floor loudly. “Are you completely mad? You know what he’s capable of doing, what he WILL do if he finds out you’re deceiving him! He’s had people and demons killed for less and you’ll be…” Kate’s face screwed up in distaste at the thought of what Alessa would have to do to keep Delancre fooled. “Koyla’s right, this isn’t just dangerous, it’s downright stupid!”
Nikolai sighed, feeling the rising annoyance in Alessa and her determination. "I've tried to tell her, but she's still determined to go through it, which is why we're hoping that you can make a stronger charm for her. If he finds out she's deceiving him, he'll kill her for sure." *Or worse,* he thought but did not say. A man that sadistic couldn't be trusted not to have a little bit of 'fun' first, or even try to break her. He sighed, though, taking a seat.
"The safest thing to do would be to whack him, but all that would just bring the attention of any of his allies in our direction." He no longer considered casually whacking a person quite so bad any more. That was the way things were done in this world, damnit. Who was he to try to change it?
Alessa used the few seconds while Nik talked to calm down. She'd known Kate would react that way and that's why she wanted to have back up. *Such back up.* Besides, it only showed that her friends cared for her, but she was determined to do this. Trying to sound composed she spoke.
"Kate, I'm perfectly aware of all you've said. Don’t think that I'm walking into it blindfolded by some deluded fantasy; but I'm not, and I mean it, I'm not stopping." She chuckled humourlessly. "Maybe I'm mad, but I'm also mad. He fooled me, played me like a tarada! Well, maybe I can turn the tables against him, and make it worth it."
She gestured towards the caged mouse Kate had tried to conceal. "This man… this monstruo probably had me caged like that, experimented with me and used me as a means to destroy my friends… I can't stand aside and hide, not if there is a chance I can atone for it."
She looked up at her friend. "But to do it I need your help, Kate. This infection allows me to stand his touch," holding her friend's disgusted eyes, she purposely added, "and even enjoy it. That's why I think I'll be able to fool him. However I need protection for all the other times when my head is thinking clearly."
Kate couldn’t rid the look of uncomfortable disgust from her eyes at Alessa’s words. “You don’t have to atone for anything,” she insisted, “you’ve done nothing wrong… but him…” Kate grimaced, she couldn’t believe that the virus was so potent that it could make laying with a man like Delancre enjoyable, especially knowing what he was capable of.
“You can’t seriously think that whoring yourself to this man will help. Alessa,” Kate said softly, taking her friend’s hand supportively. She would help her if it came to it but she wouldn’t let Alessa go off on a fool's errand without at least trying to dissuade her first. “After what he’s done to you, I can understand why you want your revenge and we will get it for you, I promise. But you don’t have to do it this way… not, not like this.”
Alessa smiled, but there was hardness in her expression. "I've already slept with him, as Stuart and probably earlier too. I know you'd say that I didn’t know then or that I didn’t have a choice at Colombia… but that doesn’t make it less real. But this time it may be worth it."
She looked into Kate's eyes. "I've seen photos of myself naked and beaten, or tortured, to unconsciousness, I know the risks and I'm willing to take them." She turned from Kate's eyes to Nikolai's and gave him an apologetic look before taking a deep breath and going on. "There's nothing that could happen to me that hasn’t happened already. And at least this time I'll be trying to defeat him."
Kate shook her head in dismay. Contrary to what Alessa believed there was plenty that could happen to her that hadn’t already, especially since she couldn’t remember what had happened to her on Isla Nublada. From what she had read in Jimmy Han’s notebook of the torturing and brainwashing techniques that were performed on the demons that were brought there, Kate had a good idea what might happen to anyone Delancre took a disliking towards.
“That’s what we’re all trying to do,” sighed Kate. “I called my friend in the Watchers’ Council, Will. He thinks there’s enough of an opposition within the Council to gather our own army against Delancre. You don’t have to do this on your own, Alessa.” Kate’s fingers drummed anxiously on the cover of Han’s journal. “I’ll have an antidote for this virus soon, I know it, and you… you should cure yourself before it all gets too strong for you to get rid of it.”
Alessa leant and took Kate's hand in hers. "I'm not planning on doing it on my own, Kate, that's why I'm here. I know my limitations and when to ask for help, but I'm not changing my mind." She looked at Nikolai who had remained silent for some minutes now. "And I don’t want to be a liability to you either. I'd rather we keep this among the three of us, the less people know of it the better."
She brushed her still short hair off her eyes. "I'm probably resigning the Armoury soon too, Delancre has mentioned the subject already. And it makes sense, from his point of view, I mean. I'll refuse all that I can but we need to think of a means of communication if I do." She looked doubtfully from one of her friend's face to the other, "I mean, if you agree to help me, that is."
Nikolai felt a bit of panic rise inside him at the suggestion. It did make sense from his perspective, but these things could be taken the wrong way and would create a potentially major problem for them. Nikolai fidgeted and shifted uncomfortably, noticing the women look at him.
"I know, it makes sense," he said, sighing. "It's just that... the other day, a friend of mine told me that one of our associates got clipped. Apparently by the Council. Dmitri was rather livid when he heard that. I convinced him not to seek immediate vengeance, but he's going to retaliate eventually. It may not be safe for you to resign, at least that way my crew will know where to find you if things go bad."
“Getting back into the family life, I see,” snapped Kate in annoyance at Nikolai’s casual reference to his association with the Gromyoko family before quickly cooling her irritation. It seemed that Koyla’s initial remission had come to an end, if his flippant remark about just murdering Delancre as a serious solution was any indication. Kate dearly wished for the old Nikolai right now, even if he couldn’t look at steak without retching.
Nikolai gritted his teeth at Kate's annoyance, as he tossed a serious glance her way. "Yeah, I know I'm not having problems with it right now. Soon as you have a cure ready, you can feel free to use me as a guinea pig. Though I should also warn you that he's contacting Bulldog Manetta. That name doesn't mean anything to you, but he's one of more brutal enforcers around, and Bulldog coming to L.A. means that Dmitri is more than casually considering taking to the mattresses."
He stopped, trying to avoid getting angry with Kate. Intellectually he knew that she wanted to help, that he should be trying to fight it. Shaking his head, he sighed heavily. "That's the problem with being evil, once you start it just becomes easier to go on, harder to stop..."
Not understanding Nikolai's mob lexicon, Alessa nonetheless got the meaning perfectly well. Nik's associates were planning war to the Council, and she could be too deep inside by the moment that happened. Not good, not good at all. She didn’t dwell in moral issues, if she did she wouldn’t be able to go on with this.
"More the reason for us to prepare some kind of escape clause." She looked at Nikolai ponderingly. "I may use some kind of password, a name or a phrase, so your 'friends' know I'm with you or that I need to contact you… I don’t know, you are the spy. And if you need to contact me, do it through Oz. I will keep in touch with him."
Nikolai thought long and hard for a moment, going over what he knew about the business in Los Angeles before a place clicked. "There's a Russian restaurant - I'll give you the address and all later - that we have an interest in. If you make a reservation there, I'd know you need to get in touch with me, and can have someone there when you dine." He still sighed again, wondering with Kate chastising him: he knew that he wouldn't be able to take it when he was cured. That he would have to get out. Only how could he do that and still stay alive? For a moment he considered the pistol he wore under his jacket, but only for a moment. That seemed almost too easy. "Is there anything that I can do to help with finding the cure?"
Kate sighed also; it was obvious that Alessa was set in her decision to carry on being Delancre’s harlot despite all their admonitions. If that was the case then, like Tash before her, Kate had to make sure that she at least had a fighting chance of being successful with her endeavours and a way to get out if things went wrong.
“The cure…” she sighed. “It’s a matter of trial and error right now,” she admitted, omitting the fact that she had been unable to effect a successful mana draining without killing the subject at the same time.
Silencing her reservations Kate turned to Alessa. “Fine, if you’re hell bent on doing this then I’ll help you too. Whatever you need, just be careful,” she warned needlessly, “and remember that Tash has this virus too. She might be one of us but right now she’s also sleeping with the enemy,” Kate fixed Alessa with a firm stare, “and you can’t trust her.”
Alessa smiled, much relieved after hearing Kate's words; she hadn't really doubted Kate would help her, but nevertheless she felt reassured. "Don’t worry, I've met Tash and I know she can't be trusted." She winced, thinking of the way the huntress had tried to manipulate her the last time they'd met; that Tash knew she had been inside the house was a problem and she had to think how to deal with it. "Now, about the concealment charms?"
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***May 14th, 2007- WC Headquarters- 10:30 pm***
Gwen held her thin pale legs in her arms, her back against the pink painted steel that was the wall. Drapes of her ebony curls fell on her ivory forehead, her brown eyes wide and distant. The Gitano socialite moved one hand to the growing baby in her, rubbing it gently. The woman had been locked in Delancre’s compound for nearly a month, and already life seemed to be drifting from her.
The room was the very opposite of what she expected; it was a collage of pink and white. The soft carpet was a baby pink, matching the walls. With the exception of the bed, all the furniture was a soft white. Around her, objects of a little girl’s delight were scattered: large, fluffy animals sat on the disgustingly pink bed, and ballerina statuettes decorated the furniture.
Gwen had met her captor once before on her first night there. She was not pleased to see him, to say the least, especially since he was most haughty towards her. It was a devastating blow to the socialite’s ego, to be held there like an animal. And worse, the room was one screaming metaphor from Delancre; in his world, Gwen was nothing more than a mere child compared to him.
Tears persisted behind her eyes, ever since her first night there. She broke down her first week, endlessly crying. Her porcelain skin was stained black from her running mascara. Yet as time went on her capture sank in more, allowing the tears to stop and her silence to reign.
With her eyes on the ceiling, Gwen gathered enough of her voice to softly sing,
“À la claire fontaine
M'en allant promener
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigné
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Sous les feuilles d'un chêne
Je me suis fait sécher
Sur la plus haute branche
Un rossignol chantait
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Chante rossignol chante
Toi qui as le cúur gai
Tu as le cúur à rire
Moi je l'ai à pleurer
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai…¹”
Gwen cut herself off at the opening of the heavy steel door, disguised to appear wooden. A tall demon walked in, a tray grasped in his earth brown claws. It trudged to a small, white table and bent over, placing the tray down. Gwen raised her head to view the contents of the tray; a loaf of bread, a glass of water, and a stick of butter.
As the demon walked towards the door, Gwen called out weakly, “Iz this it?”
The demon turned around, a blank expression on his face. The socialite continued, “I am with child, couldn’t Delancre provide me with more food to serve a woman in such a condition such as myself?”
The demon, its stature one of a statue’s, stood near Gwen and replied in a monotone, “Lord Delancre says that if you wish for more food, you must beg at his feet for it.”
Gwen, looking down, asked him before he had a chance to leave, “Where iz your lord? I have met him only once, and I wish to hear from him more.”
“Lord Delancre has other matters to attend to. When time is spared, he shall come and check on you,” the demon said mechanically, and walked out the door, it closing tightly.
Gwen sighed. She knew that a mage was outside her room, keeping her concealed in there; Delancre had warned her about it her first night there. Fearing for her child, she made no attempts to escape.
She looked away from the food, drifting off into her alternate world. The French folk song she crooned before returned, as she finished it,
“J'ai perdu mon amie
Sans l'avoir mérité
Pour un bouton de roses
Que je lui refusai
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Je voudrais que la rose
Fut encore au rosier
Et moi et ma maîtresse
Dans les mêmes amitiés
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai
À la claire fontaine
M'en allant promener
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigné
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigné.²”
Song title: À la claire fontaine. English lyrics below;
¹With the clear fountain
Me going from there to walk
I found water so beautiful
That I bathed there
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
Under the sheets of a oak
I was made dry
On the highest branch
A nightingale sang
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
Sing nightingale sings
You which have the merry cúur
You have the cúur to laugh
Me I have it to cry
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
²I lost my friend
Without to have deserved it
For a rosebud
That I refused to him
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
I would like that the pink
Was still with the rose tree
And me and my mistress
In the same friendships
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
For a long time I love you
Never I will forget you
With the clear fountain
Me going from there to walk
I found water so beautiful
That I bathed there
I found water so beautiful
That I bathed there
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 15th May 2007, 4:07 pm
Nightwalker stood in the shadowed hallway and waited while a small group of soldiers passed him by. He’d realized only moments before that something was amiss. Daye had evidently not managed to keep Robert under control. The house was teeming with patrols of squadrons obviously searching for him. It was only a matter of time before one of those groups found him and turned him over to Lord Delancre, as Robert had undoubtedly done with Daye.
Nightwalker thought frantically. Ideally, he would be able to come up with a plan to get Daye and get the hell out of the house. That was, of course, easier said than done. He couldn’t hope to accomplish such a task alone, so he would have to do something he was really reticent about. He would have to seek out Natasha and ask her for help. Double checking that the corridor was empty, Nightwalker slipped down the hall, searching while trying to stay hidden all at the same time.
Tash entered the hallways from the training ground. The session had been cut short today, every spare soldier having been quickly formed into squads and sent around the house and grounds to flush out Nightwalker. Ana was furious that her second – her second – had betrayed them all in this way. Anxious to escape the Slayer’s rantings, Tash had slipped into the house and left the teams to their searching. Personally, she was more concerned about Daye. Rumour had it that Daye had turned traitor against his Lordship but had been caught, and that Nightwalker was her accomplice. Tash snorted. Even with her boosted shielding, the silly woman had lasted a mere two days. Pathetic.
Still, Daye’s imprisonment and Nightwalker’s potential capture put her in a sticky situation. If either of them ratted on her to Delancre she’d be in some real trouble. Given her assignation the other night, Robert was doubtless telling Delancre what he knew about her involvement with the pair, but that, at least, was easy enough to cover up. Daye or Nightwalker adding corroborating evidence would be too damning, however. She had to ensure they both remained silent – one way or another.
Moving stealthily around a corner, Nightwalker caught sight of Natasha moving towards him. He waited until the woman was within arm’s reach and then snaked out an arm and pulled her into the corridor where he was waiting. He placed a hand over her mouth to keep her from calling out.
“Natasha,” Nightwalker whispered. “Don’t make a sound. If they find us together, I’ll be sure to tell Delancre you were in on the whole thing. I’ve had a lot practice making untruths truth. I can convince the man of many things if I choose to believe them to be true.”
Wrenching herself free of the demon’s grasp, Tash turned a baleful glare on him and muttered, “Oh, I’m sure you can. Believe me, I’ve thought about this in the past few minutes as they turn this place upside down for you. I realise full well that if they catch you you won’t hesitate to drop me in it. Perhaps I should just kill you where you stand and then present your corpse to Delancre? Oh, but I forget – he’s already brought you back from the dead once, hasn’t he?”
Brushing herself off, she lowered her voice even further and hissed, “So what did the stupid wench do? Forget to simper to the man? Or did she say something nice about someone?”
“Actually, she didn’t make the mistake, we did,” Nightwalker snarled. “We did, Natasha. We forgot something very important. Robert was linked to her via that spell he’s been maintaining.”
“Oh, fucking brilliant…”
Tash paused as footsteps sounded in the hallway connecting to the one they were in. As one, she and Nightwalker sank backwards into the dim side corridor and pressed themselves into a recessed doorway. The squad continued past in the main thoroughfare, their booted steps fading, and Tash sighed with relief.
“I refuse to get killed for you, you ugly shithead,” she hissed. “So, I suppose you want to get out of here, huh? And take your lady love with you?” She shook her head. “I don’t like your chances of that – from what I hear Delancre already has her locked away.”
Nightwalker cursed softly. If that was true, there was no way he and Natasha could get her out of the house. The chances of any attempt succeeding were too small to bear consideration. “I don’t want to leave her here, Natasha,” Nightwalker said softly. “I want to get her out.”
Tash could see the determination in Nightwalker’s eyes, and forced herself to ponder the possibilities for a few moments. But if she knew her man, Delancre wouldn’t just have Daye under a physical lock and key – there’d be all sorts of wards and God knows what set up around her. Still, she gave the problem serious consideration before she shook her head at the demon.
“I can’t see any way of getting to her without being killed or caught ourselves. If you absolutely have to rescue her right this second you may as well just let me kill you now – it’d be quicker. But I might be able to get you out undetected. If you’re free you might be able to find a way to come back for her later. Dead, you can’t do that.”
Nightwalker wanted to protest. He wanted to rail against Natasha’s cold, callous words. But he knew better. Natasha was being completely honest and reasonable: insensitive, but reasonable.
“You’re right,” Nightwalker replied dejectedly. “I can’t rescue her by myself. I’m going to need help.” He paused. “So, help me get the hell out of here. I’d ask you to keep an eye on her until I can come back for Daye, but I think that might be like asking the snake to guard the henhouse from the fox.”
The look on Tash’s face was unreadable, but she knew she had to get Nightwalker out of here, or else she’d wind up in a cell right next to Daye. Or worse. She shuddered.
“Frankly, I doubt even I will have much opportunity to get near Daye, especially after that snake Robert has no doubt besmirched my good name. Still, first things first. You know this place pretty well – any thoughts on the best way out? I was thinking the area out where the zombies are housed isn’t exactly well frequented these days…”
Nightwalker nodded. He held up a piece of weathered parchment. “I have a way out,” he said. “I need to get to the garden just beyond the east practice field. From there I can make my way off the grounds undetected. The question is, how do I get out there without being spotted? Any bright ideas, Natasha?”
Damn, she had people in place for use as diversions… but not at such short notice. If she had an hour or two she could bully Alessa or Darian into buying Nightwalker some time to escape, but they didn’t have an hour or two to spare. Well…
“This could be a long shot,” Tash whispered as she pulled out her cell phone, “But it’s worth a try.”
Calling up Alessa’s number, she hit dial and waited. The second the woman picked up her cell phone, Tash began speaking quietly and quickly.
“Alessa, this is Tash. I don’t have time for questions, but I need you at the mansion five minutes ago.”
“Tash? Sure, but-” Alessa frowned and looked back at Kate’s house. Nik had already left and she had been about to start her car when her phone rang. Remembering Kate’s warning about the huntress, she didn’t let herself be hurried. “How?”
“I don’t care how. Drive. Fly. Fucking run. However. Just get here fast. I need you for a few minutes, but time is of the essence. You don’t want me talking to Delancre, do you?”
Alessa felt her anger rise. “Don’t be stupid, I’m not asking that. How do you want me to look? I assume you are calling me because of that, right?”
If Tash had the time and could afford the noise, she would have laughed out loud. As it was she merely grunted. “Quite. Do you have picture capability on your phone?”
“Yes.”
“Hang on.”
Tash held up her phone, aimed it at Nightwalker and took a quick digital scan of him, front on. “Turn your head.” Taking a profile shot as well, she zapped both pictures to Alessa.
“He’s about…” Tash gauged quickly, “six foot seven, fairly muscly and bulky. About what? 280 pounds?”
Nightwalker shrugged. “Three hundred, give or take.”
“Three hundred pounds, well built. Got that? Right, when you get here, climb the fence.”
“Wait a sec,” interrupted Alessa as she studied the photos, frowning. “Clothes?”
“Whatever you can get that will vaguely fit. You shouldn’t have to pass close scrutiny. If anyone gets too close to you, you’re dead. So don’t get caught, whatever you do.”
Tash took a deep breath and waved off Nightwalker who was trying to ask his own questions.
“There are guards and soldiers everywhere looking for this guy. When you climb the wall it’ll set off the alarms and draw them all to you. Once you’re at the top of the fence, simply pretend you’ve climbed it from the inside and climb back down the outside, ok? They’ll spot you and chase. Don’t let them catch you. Run like a bunny, and once they’re all after you, change to something else and go to ground. Ok? I don’t want you getting caught.”
That last wasn’t for any compassionate reasons, but simply because Tash didn’t need the complication of another prisoner of Delancre’s dropping Tash’s name in plots against him. “Did you get that? Don’t get caught. They’ll kill you if they get you.”
“Sure, Tash. Tell me something I don’t know,” Alessa answered bitterly as she started the car, already thinking where to get some man’s clothes that big. She checked her watch. “I’ll be there in forty minutes. Can’t appear in a summer dress.”
Suppressing a groan, Tash nodded, even though she knew Alessa couldn’t see it over the phone. “All right, but please don’t waste time. A man’s life hangs in the balance. I expect to hear a commotion no later than three quarters of an hour from now.”
She turned to Nightwalker. “Well, unless you have a better idea for a distraction, I’ll have a doozy of one in about forty minutes. You just have to hide until then. Good luck.”
She turned to leave, but a strong hand grabbed her arm. “Oh no, Natasha,” he growled menacingly. “You’re staying right here by my side until I’m out of here.”
“What, don’t you trust me?” Tash said guilelessly.
“Not as far as I could spit you.”
“Fine then.” Tash shook herself free of his grip again, all pretence at humour gone. “Let’s both find someplace to hole up.”
*****
*Ok, this is it,* Alessa thought as she looked up the high wall that surrounded the mansion, she had already changed into a man roughly the size and build that Tash had described, and was wearing the jeans and t-shirt she’d bought to match. Taking another good look at the pictures Tash had sent her she morphed into the demon. She didn’t know exactly what this would imply, but she needed Tash’s help more than ever, and besides, helping an unknown demon to get out of Delancre’s clutches just felt right.
She couldn’t watch herself but looking at her hands she checked their skin color and form. Golden and softly glowing the hands looked big and strong. She touched her face and felt the hard ridges of the scars, idly wondering what could have caused them. The top of her head felt strange and she knew she had even achieved the silver glow in there too. It wasn’t the first time she’d turned into another demon form since her abilities had improved, but never with such haste and little preparation.
“Nichevo,” she said, echoing Nikolai’s expression for ‘not your fault’ and ‘it can’t be helped’, and flexed her legs to take impulse in a mighty jump, getting herself only a few inches from the top of the wall. Upon contact her fingernails instantly grew into the brick material of the wall, and slowly but securely she clawed her way to the top, where a mass of barbed wire awaited her.
*Thank you Tash,* she thought, when the spiked wire tore into her arms as she settled on the wall. She could feel the tingling of magic all over her again and realized that she had already set off all the alarms the woman had mentioned. *Good, come and get me,* she said to herself as she scanned the expanse inside the grounds, where some of Delancre’s troops were already running around like excited ants. She waited a couple more minutes, till sure of having been spotted and jumped back towards the street.
From the hidden corner Tash and Nightwalker had found to hole up in they could hear barked commands and scurrying feet, and they glanced at one another. “Forty-two minutes,” whispered Tash, checking her watch. “Not bad.”
After a minute or two the sounds in the immediate vicinity died down, as the searchers no doubt were all diverted outside to where ‘Nightwalker’ had scaled the wall to make his escape. Tash went first, sauntering out into the hallways as though she was meant to be there. Not a soul was in sight, and she tapped out the ‘all clear’ for Nightwalker.
“Now we just have to hope she keeps them occupied for ten or fifteen minutes,” Tash whispered. “But I’m sure she’ll do fine. Hell, she’s probably having a great time out there.”
Alessa landed heavily near the base of the wall and rolled with the impact, wincing when her torn arm scratched against the ground. “Damnit!” she cursed, as she stood up lithely and looked around, there wasn’t anybody yet. She tensely waited till the first guard appeared on top of the wall and spotted her before she started to run; she wasn’t allowing them time to catch up, only to see her.
“I need more practice with big bodies,” she breathed out. As with the fall, she was having difficulties adjusting her pace to the longer legs of the demon, and a quick glance over her shoulder told her that her pursuers were gaining distance. However, underlying the fear, excitement rose. Too bad she couldn’t get to face them, she hadn’t been in a good fight in just too long time.
“Can’t risk it,” she panted, not stopping her run. Her work with the demon form wouldn’t stand a close scrutiny and there were too many guards in pursuit for her to take them on alone. Taking a quick turn round the corner she jumped over a bench and disappeared inside the gardens of a big stylish house she had spotted on her way to the mansion. *Let them follow me here,* she thought as she slid between the bushes around a small gazebo.
Without losing a second she got rid of her clothes, standing completely naked inside the wooden structure and hiding them under the rounding bench. Then she looked around quickly and closed her eyes. Getting to animal form was more difficult for her, but after a few seconds she managed a big sloppy dog, who walked calmly out of the gazebo happily wagging its tail.
Guards began swarming around the area, anxious to both find Nightwalker and to not be too apparent to the neighbours. So far Ambrose Delancre’s activities had gone unremarked by the locals and all the soldiers had been made well aware of his Lordship’s desire to keep it that way. Still, although their search of the area was thorough all they were able to flush were an assortment of squirrels and one huge gambolling dog that loped off down the street.
Soon one of the soldiers held up Nightwalker’s clothing in triumph, but of the demon himself, they found no sign. Eventually, grumbling and defeated, they returned to the mansion to accept the punishment they justly deserved for their failure.
As soon as Tash and Nightwalker reached the east practice field, Nightwalker consulted the parchment and then made a beeline for a clump of bushes near the boundary. Tash followed. When they came to the right spot, he moved into the undergrowth and began searching. In moments, he found the opening to the underground tunnels. He turned back to Tash before pulling the heavy wooden door open.
“This is it,” he said. “I’ll be fine by myself the rest of the way.” Nightwalker paused. “Thank you, Natasha, for your help. And be warned, I’ll be back as soon as I can to get Daye out. I’ll leave you alone if you stay out of my way.”
Tash’s smile was sardonic. “Yeah, sure. Enough of the emotional good byes, I can’t stand it. Send me a postcard, will ya?”
Dismissing him with a wave, Tash turned back to the mansion, already thinking of ways to reach Daye herself. With luck, Nightwalker wouldn’t have to worry about coming back for Daye. After all, what was the point in rescuing a corpse?
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 15th May 2007 – 5:30pm
Ambrose Delancre waited impatiently for Natasha to arrive. He’d summoned her only moments before, just after Robert had left the room. With troops scouring the estate looking for Nightwalker, and Daye still out cold from Robert’s spell, the First Elder had had plenty of time to sit the little mage down and get details on Natasha’s involvement with Amanda and her little conspiracy.
Robert had been most co-operative. He’d given Lord Delancre a detailed account of every interaction the man had witnessed between Amanda and her friend, both before and after Amanda’s sudden recovery form the Hyde virus. The first thing that Delancre had realised while listening to Robert’s account of events was that the man hated both Amanda and Natasha with a fiery passion. Considering how deliciously cruel both women had been with him that was really no surprise. Delancre actually felt a surge of surprised pride as he’d listened to the man’s tale of torment. Both Amanda and Natasha had exploited Robert’s obvious weakness in a most heinous way. Delancre himself doubted he could have done any better.
The second thing that Delancre noticed was, despite his feelings about Natasha, Robert told no lies. The man put a certain slant on his tales, one intended to paint the woman as traitorous no question, but he had the wisdom not to lie to his Lordship. That was heartening, because it indicated that Robert was afraid of Delancre. That was what Delancre wanted most from his subordinates, their fear.
“Now, the question is, does Natasha fear me?” Delancre mused aloud. “Does she respect the power I possess, or is she trying to work her own angles here?”
The question plaguing Delancre now was what to make of Natasha’s actions. The woman was no fool, so surely she feared him as well. But did she fear him enough? Did she respect his power and her place in the scheme of things, or were her escapades an indication that the little plebeian had ambitions far beyond her worth? As with the zombies, Delancre harboured doubts about Natasha’s motives here as well. As much as he hated to admit it, she was a smart woman, one who always bore keeping a close watch on.
Delancre glanced up as the door to his office swung open, expecting to see Natasha being led through the door by one of his personal guards. At the sight of the Slayer standing there instead, his expression grew stormy. Ana would only have barged in on him for one reason.
“So, he’s escaped then?” Delancre asked, moving towards where the young woman stood, feet braced apart and head hanging down in shame.
Ana raised her face to her Lord’s, her cheeks flaming. “Yes, Sir Ambrose,” she replied evenly. “One of the platoons spotted him going over the Southwest wall. They gave chase, but somehow Nightwalker gave them the slip. All they found was this.” Ana handed Delancre the bundle of clothes, which he stared at for a few moments without speaking.
“I see,” Delancre finally said. “So, he’s gone then. That demon was supposed to be your most trusted. What happened, Miss Graziani?”
Ana winced. She hated it when Lord Ambrose used that stiff, formal tone. She worshipped the man. He was her guide and her purpose. And she’d failed him. Terribly. Not only had the troops she trained managed to lose Nightwalker, but the demon himself had fooled her. She had no idea how long he’d been planning this betrayal, but remembering that Nightwalker often volunteered to serve as Delancre’s personal guard made Ana feel slightly sick. Her carelessness had undoubtedly put her Lord in danger many times in the past. She had failed.
“I... I don’t know, Sir,” Ana replied, her tone dejected. “I’ve made a terrible mistake. I should have known something was amiss.”
Delancre sighed. Ana was taking this very hard, and she should be, but he couldn’t afford for her to fall apart now. His Slayer was his most loyal subject. She adored him, and Delancre revelled in that. He needed Ana, whole and fit. So as much as her failure disappointed him, he said, “Ana... never mind. It’s all right. We can’t plan for the unexpected. And I sensed nothing amiss with Nightwalker either. You aren’t entirely to blame for this.”
Ana looked up in surprise. Lord Delancre was an unforgiving man who never, never let a mistake go unpunished. Surely she’d heard him wrong.
“But Sir... this is my fault,” Ana argued. “I deserve whatever punishment you see fit.”
Delancre fought down his annoyance. This was why he was never lenient or merciful. They all wanted his firm hand. But he didn’t have time to deal with this now.
“Go to your room,” he ordered coldly. “You should not second guess me, Miss Graziani. Now you have indeed angered me. Failing is one thing, but questioning me is quite another. You shall stay in your room until I have time to think up a suitable punishment for your transgressions.”
Ana’s face seemed to brighten. That was more like it. She felt like she’d found stable footing once again.
“Yes, Sir,” she replied humbly.
“You are dismissed,” Delancre said wearily.
Ana turned on her heel to leave, and Delancre saw through the closing door that his guard had just arrived with Natasha in tow. Delancre wanted to rush to the door and order them inside, but he knew he would only retain the upper hand if he maintained his cool. So, he waited a few moments longer.
Tash watched Ana retreat from Delancre’s study, wondering once more about the twisted relationship the pair had. Ana’s demeanour was of a chastened underling, but the feelings of awe and paternal love that emanated from the Slayer were sickening.
She turned back to the door, expecting Delancre to order her inside, but as the seconds ticked on she grew more nervous. Nightwalker had told her all about Robert’s actions, and while she admired Robert’s deviousness she was more than a little miffed that she’d been caught in the crossfire. But just exactly what had the stinking little mage told Delancre? What little she was able to detect through the door spoke of a towering rage, but how much of that was directed at her she didn’t know. Of course, she reflected, it wouldn’t matter how much had been aimed at her – if she was in front of Delancre when that dam burst she’d be the one to drown in it regardless.
The charm beneath her glove was still firmly affixed and now, more than ever, Tash hoped it was strong enough to carry her through these next few minutes. She would either come out okay, or dead. She doubted there’d be any in-between on this one. Calming her thoughts as much as possible, Tash was prepared with an expression more of curiosity and enquiry than of panic by the time Delancre finally summoned her to enter.
Usually Tash tried to get in the first salvo, establishing that air of casual familiarity that Delancre hated so much, but today he was too fast for her and spoke even as Tash’s mouth was opening to draw breath.
“So, Natasha... have you been keeping busy?”
Delancre's mouth was twisted in a cold sneer. He was pleased to see, though, that the woman did seem suitably afraid of him this time. It seemed to prove that her easy familiarity and manner on other occasions was mere bravado.
“Because I find that there's so much going on around here today,” Delancre continued. “Care to elaborate on your involvement in all this?”
Swallowing her opening comments, Tash played dumb. Ignoring Delancre’s implied question, she answered him literally, trying to stay as calm as possible, “Well, naturally I heard about Daye and Nightwalker when you sent the call out to the troops. I was training with them at the time. Since then, I’ve mostly been staying out of their way to let them search for Nightwalker.”
This was, of course, all perfectly true – if not what Delancre had really been asking.
Delancre struggled to control his rising impatience. Apparently the woman still did not fear him enough if she thought to play semantic games. *Fair enough, Natasha. I’ll just have to inspire you to greater heights.*
“Natasha, I have no time or patience for you and your little games,” he said. “I want you to tell me exactly what you know about this... plot between the demon and the witch. I want to know how much time you've been spending with that ungrateful little tramp, and I want to know if you were involved in this attempt to fool me. There’s absolutely no sense in pretending that you don’t know anything about it either. Robert Forth, an apparently loyal man, told me that you were in Amanda’s room just two nights ago.”
Tash let a little of her trepidation show through Kate’s charm, along with her anger at Robert. “Robert Forth,” she spat, “is only loyal to that tiny dick of his.”
She heaved a sigh and nodded as though in resignation, dropping her front of bravado and irreverence. “All right, I’ve been seeing Daye around the place here and there since you took her in last week. Mostly she’s been eyeing off the various demons, deciding which one to bed. She and I had a little harmless fun at Robert’s expense, that’s all. We’d pick on him a bit. I mean, it’s not like either of us ever did anything to him… well, except that one time…”
She shifted slightly on her feet, not daring to sit in Delancre’s presence this time. “Well, I suppose that’s what you want to hear about. Two nights ago I was in Daye’s room. When she came back from that weekend away she came on to me again – she’s tried from time to time. And this time I thought I may as well take her up on it. Word gets around, y’know, and some of the guys have said she’s a real firecracker in bed. Anyway, we made an arrangement and I turned up a couple of hours later. Robert was out front as usual and yeah, I may have said something nasty to him. I didn’t want the little pervert whacking off out there while Daye and I were in her room.”
Tash let her eyes show anger as she recounted the next part. “But that bitch had brought Nightwalker to her room. I wasn’t really happy about that, but thought I might try it out. You never know, a threesome could be okay, even though he’s the ugliest bastard I ever saw. But they didn’t seem exactly interested in getting it on with me there. I got kinda mad and stormed out… and I may have bruised Robert a little on the way out.” Her chuckle at the memory was unfeigned.
“Anyway,” she shrugged, “That’s about it. I didn’t see Daye much after that, except at a distance. The next thing I heard was a couple of hours ago on the training field when the call went out for search parties and I found out Daye had turned traitor and been caught. I’ve gotta tell you, Ana was pissed about Nightwalker.”
Delancre considered Natasha’s story carefully. In fact, nothing she said was counter to what Robert had told him. The only difference was the spin you put on the story. The thing Delancre had to consider was whether or not Robert was painting a certain picture out of malicious intent. The man certainly had enough reason to. Amanda and Natasha had been deliberately cruel, making sport of him again and again. In light of that, there was a good chance that Natasha was telling the truth.
“I’ve spoken to Ana,” Delancre said, debating his words carefully. “I understand her anger and frustration. Nightwalker was a trusted ally. He knows many of our most valuable secrets.”
Delancre paused, reaching out to probe Natasha as he added, “He escaped clean, you know. I was informed just before you arrived.”
Putting all her faith in Kate’s talisman, Tash pushed out the strongest reaction of surprise and disappointment that she could. “Shit,” she said with feeling. “You’ve got people out looking for him, I hope. I mean, as you say, he knows an awful lot about what’s going on here – he’s dangerous out on the loose.”
Delancre could sense no pretence in Natasha as she spoke those words. She was truly upset about Nightwalker’s escape. Perhaps he could breathe a bit easier. The woman probably was innocent in these affairs. She’d been duped as much as he. Of course she had. How would it have been possible for her to pick up on Amanda’s plans, when he himself could not? He'd been foolish to worry over Robert Forth’s petty machinations.
“Very... and what endangers me and mine will ultimately endanger you and yours,” Delancre agreed. “I’ll be sending some people out to make inquiries throughout the city. Although I imagine Nightwalker will make for the hills as soon as possible. At least he's no one to turn to for help in this city.”
Tash gave a low laugh. “True. He’ll be alone out there. Who would believe his wild stories anyway? I mean, come on, as if the Watchers’ Council would have conditioning programs and zombie troops? How ridiculous,” she winked.
Delancre laughed. Sometimes there was something almost refreshing about Natasha’s crudeness. “Exactly,” he said. “We’ll of course continue searching for him, but it’s unlikely the Nightwalker will be able to cause us any trouble now. And as for Amanda – well, she’s going to have to become very co-operative very soon.”
Letting her lip curl in a cruel smile, Tash answered, “Oh, I’m sure you’ll make her see reason soon enough.”
Of course, that was exactly what she was worried about. Having Daye in a position to tell Delancre all about their true ‘arrangement’ was not good from Tash’s point of view. She knew Delancre needed to gain custody of Maia, and that’s where his efforts would be concentrated – but it would take only one slip from Daye and Tash’s behind the scenes plotting would become more exposed. No, she had to find a way to silence Daye, and quickly – but she carefully kept her concerns from her expression as she waited for Delancre to dismiss her.
“Of course I will,” Delancre boasted. “I can be very persuasive.”
Delancre studied Natasha for a moment longer. “I should actually be getting down there about now. I hope you don't mind. I need to start... convincing the girl as soon as possible.”
“Of course.”
Tash moved towards the doorway to leave, but paused with her hand on the knob. “I’m sure you know her pretty well, and I hate to sound like I’m telling you your job, but Daye can be fairly tough when it comes to personal discomfort. You may find you get better results threatening those she loves – if she has any left by now, that is.”
Natasha’s words didn’t come as any surprise to Delancre. He had already figured on having to do just that to get Amanda to co-operate. Besides her dedication, Delancre had to worry about making sure she was kept alive. Until Maia was his, the man could take no chances with Amanda’s health. For now he would have to make her uncomfortable and try to intimidate her into going along with his plans.
Delancre nodded at Natasha and then watched her leave. He was relieved at least to have averted that little crisis. At this point, he still very much needed the resources that came along with having Miss Brookes as an ally.
With the study door closing behind her, Tash maintained her composure as she passed through the demon-staffed antechamber. It wasn’t until she was well out of sight of anyone that she let herself sag against a wall and give in to the trembling in her limbs. That had been close. Too close.
After a few moments she resumed her journey with a new resolve in mind. Daye.
delancre first interrogates daye
*** Tuesday, May 15, 2007, 7 pm ***
*** Cell beneath the Watchers’ Council house ***
Daye came around slowly. Her head pounded mercilessly and her body ached. She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times to focus her vision. Once she could see clearly she attempted to sit up, but found herself immobilized by the heavy, iron manacles attached to her wrists, ankles and throat. Daye fell back against the bed and sighed.
“This is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” she chided herself. “How are you going to get out of this one?”
“You could simply cooperate, dear Amanda,” a familiar voice drifted to her from across the room.
Daye turned her head and saw Ambrose Delancre lounging in a comfortable looking chair in the corner of the dark, dank cell. His smile was the indulgent, fatherly smile she was so familiar with. Daye shuddered involuntarily.
“Wh…” Daye’s voice sounded creaky to her own ears. She swallowed against her parched throat and tried again. “What is going on? Why am I chained up?”
“For your own good, of course, my dear,” Delancre said mildly. “I can’t have you wandering off into that cold, cruel world again, now can I? After all, you’re so very important to me… to my cause.”
“What do you want?” Daye asked warily.
“Well, to begin with, I’d like to know exactly how you managed to rid yourself of Hyde 232,” Delancre replied. “That virus took me years to perfect, and I’m very curious how you managed to overcome it.”
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Daye replied, her voice unsteady.
“Please, dear, don’t.” Delancre’s voice held an edge of annoyance. “You know I’m not a stupid man. Don’t pretend otherwise. That would only serve to make me angry.”
Daye shrugged as well as she was able to with the chains and manacles. “I’m not going to tell you anything,” she said. “You’re wasting your time.”
“I doubt that highly.” Delancre stood and moved towards the bed. He hovered over Daye, smiling benignly. “You’re going to have to co-operate with me, dear girl. You’re not going anywhere until you do.”
Daye stared mutely at him.
“Come now, don’t be stubborn,” Delancre cajoled. “If you co-operate with me I’ll make sure you’re well cared for, comfortable, that you want for nothing. Dear Amanda, I’ve told you many times, you’re like a daughter to me. As any father would, I long for you to share my vision.”
Daye looked wary. “What vision? What is it you want, exactly?”
“It’s simple, really,” Delancre replied. “I want to remake the world in my image. Can you imagine anything more wonderful? The whole world made strong and unified by me. All I ask in return is that everyone follows my rule; bows to my superiority, if you will.”
Daye nearly laughed out loud at the man’s lunacy. “Why do you need Maia?”
“Oh, figured that one out, did you?” Delancre settled himself on the edge of the bed and reached out to stroke Daye’s face. “Well, you were always such a smart girl. Too smart, maybe. If you’d been less smart, or less headstrong, this would all have been so much easier. Well, no matter. Things are coming to fruition anyway. Pretty soon, I will have brought the bulk of my army to Los Angeles and the war can begin in earnest.”
Delancre’s eyes were lit with excitement. “A glorious war, where the weak and unnecessary are ground down beneath the boot heels of my army. In the end, when the dust clears, only the most worthy will survive, and they all will be loyal to me. Can’t you just picture it?”
“You’re crazy,” Daye said softly.
“No, I’m worthy,” Delancre snapped. “What about you? Are you worthy, my sweet Amanda?”
“Why Maia, though?” Daye asked again.
“Someday she is destined to become a leader of men,” Delancre replied. “You’ve read the Dynos. You know how special the child is. With you as her guardian, I could ensure she believed in my work, my vision, if I could ensure that you did. My plan, in the beginning, was simply to win you to my cause. If not for that pesky demon you fell in love with, everything would have simply fallen into place. Unfortunately, though, you had the Blaise penchant for misguided romance.”
Daye glared at him mutinously. “Don’t you talk about Ryan that way. What we had was special. It wasn’t a mistake.”
“No, it was a damned annoyance,” Delancre snapped back. “That’s why I had to get rid of him, but then you were angry with me. I can’t tell you how aggravating it’s been trying time and again to rebuild your trust, only to have something or the other come between us. That’s why I ‘rebuilt’ your beloved Ryan. I thought if he turned on you, then you would come back to me.”
Daye couldn’t believe the man. He sounded mildly annoyed that his plans to manipulate her had failed.
“And your family! Interfering again and again from behind the veil,” Delancre continued. “How tedious it all has been. And for naught, it seems. I’d wanted it never to come to this, but alas, it has. You are going to have to co-operate with me now. I’m through being gentle with you, Amanda.”
Delancre reached out and took hold of Amanda’s chin, his fingertips hard upon her flesh as he held her head steady. “Tell me what I want to know, Amanda. And give me Maia. Once you’ve given me what I want, I can make you comfortable. I can take you out of this disgusting little cell, put you back in your comfortable suite. If you agree, when you take the oath to serve me, I will even let you go on caring for the girl’s needs.
“Tell me you’ll be mine, Amanda,” Delancre urged, his crushing fingers bruising her face. “Tell me how you were cured. Give me Maia.”
“Never!” Daye shouted, wrenching free of his hurtful grip. “I’ll never give you my daughter. I’ll never swear to serve you. You might as well kill me now.”
Delancre laughed cruelly. “You know very well I can’t kill you, Amanda. You know I can’t let any harm come to you until I have Maia.”
Delancre stood. “Very well, you’re not being very amenable today. Perhaps you’ll feel differently tomorrow. We’ll talk then.”
Delancre turned to go. “Oh, and there will be no creature comforts for you until you relent. Enjoy your stay in this dungeon, Princess.”
Daye refused to look as Delancre left her alone. She was trapped. She was scared. She was alone, but she wouldn’t give in to Delancre, no matter what he tried.
ryan goes to drew for help
*** Tuesday, May 15, 2007, 11:46 pm ***
*** Daye’s house ***
The Nightwalker crouched in the bushes outside the pretty little house that Daye called home. He had spent the day hiding in corners and waiting for the dark to come so that he could move more freely. He knew his face stood out in a crowd now, and Nightwalker couldn’t afford to cause a scene. Delancre undoubtedly already had forces out looking for him. Nightwalker knew too much to just be allowed to leave. Delancre would want him back as soon as possible, before the man’s plans could be jeopardized. Not to mention that Sir Ambrose Delancre was a man who didn’t take betrayal well. He was in danger. Nightwalker knew that, but Daye was in more danger and he had to try and muster a force to help her.
A dark colored car pulled slowly into the drive as Nightwalker studied the house from his hiding place. A man the demon recognized climbed out of the driver’s seat once the car was parked. Drew Langley walked up to the house, his shoulders slumped and his movements slow, as if he carried a heavy weight.
Just as Drew came to the steps, Nightwalker stood and moved out of the shadows silently. He stopped a foot from the man and spoke.
“Drew.”
Drew spun around at the sound of the ravaged voice just to his left. He stopped and stared in shock for just a moment. “Ryan?!” he said. Drew’s body tensed for a fight, while his mind reeled. Ryan was supposed to be dead. Galen had killed him on the pier nearly two years before.
Of course, Ryan was supposed to have been dead once before. Amanda had believed him killed by the Watchers years ago. “What are you, some kind of cat demon with nine lives?”
Nightwalker laughed mirthlessly. “Not exactly,” he said. “I need to talk to you, Drew. Daye’s in danger.”
Drew’s face clouded with anger. “Do you know where she is?” he demanded loudly, his hands curling into fists. “Have you done something to her, you bastard?! If you had anything to do with her disappearance, I swear I’ll… I’ll…”
Drew was red faced and sputtering. Nightwalker put his hands up to ward off the man’s fury. “I haven’t done anything to her,” he said. “I… I was trying to help her. That’s why I’m here now.”
Drew snorted. “Trying to help her?” he echoed. “Why? What kind of game are you playing?”
“No game, Drew. There’s no time to waste on this. You need to trust me, to believe me. What happened before… what I did? I know how you must hate me. I don’t blame you, but you have to listen. I have to make you understand. For years, I… I haven’t been myself. Lord Delancre, he brainwashed me or something. I don’t really know how he did it, but I finally know exactly what’s going on… what’s been going on. When Daye came to the Council house, I tried to help her, but she was… she was sick. She had this weird virus or something…”
Drew interrupted. “Wait… I know all about that. I mean, I thought she was cured, but then she disappeared again. She must have gone to the Council house then. She must have left because she was afraid of hurting us. But I don’t understand. Why are you here? Do you know some way to cure her?”
Nightwalker shook his head sharply. “No, she is cured,” he replied. “A friend of hers, this necromancer named Marcus Dalton, somehow he managed to cure her.”
“If she’s cured,” Drew looked confused, “then why isn’t she home? Last time, she came right back to us.”
“She… she figured out that Delancre was behind all this, and so she decided… She wanted to try and infiltrate the Council house and get information on what exactly Delancre was up to,” Nightwalker replied. “I tried to talk her out of it, but you must know how she can be when she’s set on something. I decided to help her, mostly so I could be close to her when she got into trouble.”
Drew swore loudly and colorfully. “Why would she do something so… so… reckless? She should have come home. She should not have put herself in danger like that. What the hell was she thinking?!”
“That she wanted to make up for some of the terrible things she’s done.” Nightwalker’s voice was filled with regret. “She’s nearly breaking under the weight of her guilt. I can see how appealing it would be to pull off some kind of hero bit. She thought maybe she could show you all how truly sorry she is by taking a big risk for everyone’s sake. And…”
Nightwalker paused. He was about to tell Drew about Delancre’s interest in Maia, but he stopped himself. That was another worry the man didn’t need right now. Especially since Nightwalker planned to personally insure that Delancre never got his hands on their little girl.
“She made a bad call, but considering she’d been through so much lately, that can happen,” Nightwalker concluded.
“And since you’re here now,” Drew’s voice was full of fear, “I have to assume that her little ruse didn’t work. Someone found out what she was up to, and now she’s in a great deal of trouble.”
Nightwalker nodded. “Yeah, someone found out and before I could get her out of there that someone turned her in. Delancre is holding her prisoner. We have to get her out of there. If I had thought for one minute I could do that alone, I never would have left her there. But there’s no way. It’s gonna take an army to get in and get her out safely.”
Nightwalker sighed. “I thought… maybe… That is, I thought that Daye’s friends, the ones that saved her from… from me… I thought they could help. I was thinking you could call them or light up the bat signal, or whatever it is you do.”
Drew grimaced. He had no idea if any of Amanda’s friends were either in the position to help, or if they would even be willing to. After the way she’d behaved lately, he couldn’t be sure. Still, Drew wasn’t about to let Amanda stay there without trying to get her out. He would beg if need be, but somehow he’d muster up a force to rescue Amanda.
“Well…” Ryan was looking so hopefully at him. “We could go see Kate… she’s Amanda’s best friend. She’s also a powerful witch. Maybe she could come up with a plan… or something.”
“Yes, that’s perfect,” Nightwalker said. He turned towards Drew’s parked car. “Let’s go.”
“Whoa, wait a minute,” Drew said. “We can’t go now. It’s the middle of the night. Kate is probably asleep. She’s… she’s gone through some stuff of her own lately. We’ll go first thing in the morning, ok?”
Nightwalker wanted to argue, but he didn’t know Kate. He couldn’t say if Drew’s reasoning was sound or not. He shrugged. “All right,” he said. “I’ll meet you here at sunrise.”
Nightwalker started to walk away.
“Wait,” Drew called out. The demon turned back to him. “You… you should come inside. You can stay here tonight. Then we can go at first light.”
Nightwalker was amazed at Drew’s invitation. The other man had every reason to hate him, and no reason to be generous.
Nightwalker nodded, following Drew to the door. Drew settled him in the guest room and then headed off for bed himself. They both lay in their beds, staring at the shadows and wondering how Daye was fairing. Needless to say, neither man slept a wink all night.