June 15th, 2007
11:59 PM
A secret Grove in Scotland.
A MidSummer's Nightmare Pt 1
WOOOSH
Green light illuminated a circle of runes which lay carefully spread across the grove’s leaf-covered ground, drenching the otherwise serene setting in an eerie hue. It had been many years since the foliage of this forest was witness to such magics, but it was by no means the first. Twice did they gather for such a purpose; twice before had these same runes sprung to life. Twice before had the spell been cast.
With an angry cry, a lone owl flew from its perch high atop the grove, eager to leave the scene. The natural order was to be unbalanced; every beast, great and small, could feel it and end every animal fled, not wanting to bear witness to such atrocities.
As quiet as the night wind, an assembly of twenty-two hooded figures silently emerged from the black woods, congregating silently around the mystical circle.
With face shrouded in darkness, the only green-robed individual stepped forwards and into the circle to address the brothers and sisters of his order.
“With the passing of time, our Order has dwindled, our power diminished. Long has it been since our magic was as strong as that of our forefathers before us; but times change. On this night, we are at the strongest we have been in over a century. Our numbers have risen, and our power once again mighty. Because of this, it is time to forge a new destiny; now is our time. Now begins the era of the Order of the Fae!”
Those around the circle nodded wordlessly as their leader turned towards the North of the circle. “Bring force the vessel.”
Some of the druids parted slightly, revealing two individuals who looked rather incongruent in the somber setting. The comatose form of a large, scruffy individual hung limply from the broad shoulders of a young man. Beneath his angelic golden curls, a scowl of annoyance marred his cherubic face.
“Bring force the vessel, set up the runes, wash the robes… god, sometimes I think I should change my name to Cinderella.”
Ungracefully slumping the unconscious body into the center of the circle, the young man turned to face the head of his order. Although unable to see the grimace on the man’s face, he could feel the disapproving look no doubt chiseled underneath the green hood.
“What? Don’t look at me like that – and yes I know the look you’re giving me!”
A chorus of sighs could be heard from several of the druids, as if in unison the thoughts “Here we go again” played through their minds.
“Well what did you expect? There I am sipping my strawberry daiquiri, enjoying a nice Sunday reading, and then WHAM! You hit me with this! you know I almost dropped my Cosmo in the tub for Christ sake.”
The green clad man raised his hand, trying to silence the upset youth, but it was to no avail – no force on the planet had that type of power.
“Read my lips: I. Don’t. want. a. Sibling!!!!!!! I’ve spent over a hundred years as an only child, and you know what, I like it that way!”
“But you keep forgetting; you’re not an only child, my son,” a raspy voice whispered from behind the secrecy of his cloak.
“Oh PUUUUUUULEASE! That retard in LA doesn’t count. See, the way I see it is you needed a practice model before you perfected the spell with me.” He smiled arrogantly as he brushed out a single wrinkle from his tight fitting, stylish G-Star shirt.
Green orbs began to glow from beneath the darkness of the druid’s hood as his impatience grew steadily. “Although he didn’t turn out as our forefathers had planned, your older brother still lives, and after tonight Loki, so shall your new younger brother.”
“Oh GREAT. Now I’m going to be the middle sibling! You know they always turn out weird or crazy or something!”
“No ‘ifs’, ‘ands’ or ‘buts’ will make us change our minds, so please, my son, grab one of your Teen People magazines and go sit quietly while we work.”
With a great Huff the young man spun around, all the while muttering as he made his way outside the circle and back to where he actually did have a Teen People waiting on a tree stump for his return. “Stupid spell… stupid sibling… I don’t want another brother…stupid…OUUU, J-Lo has a new husband!”
Now that the distraction was silently engrossed in his magazine, reading up on how Peach lipgloss was the new Cherry, the coven of druids was ready to begin.
Stepping out of the mystical circle, the lead sorcerer began the chant, leading his confreres into weaving the intricate magic, and opening up the gateway. Not a single one blinked in hesitation as the helpless man still in the circle began to stir. He was a common street thug, some dirty ingrate of society Loki no doubt chalked up in the back alleys of one of the many bars he frequented.
As the chanting grew, the eerie green light of the runes changed colours, taking on an unnatural shade of purple. Wind began to whistle through the branches of the ancient trees as the balance of nature slowly began to tip out of alignment. Leaves recklessly twirled about, ripped from their homes, as the maelstrom intensified in strength. With a violent shudder the man, who was just ‘coming to’, began bleed from his eyes, ears and nose; the magic had reached its crescendo and was funneling directly into his weak shell of bone and flesh. That, however, would soon change.
As a new, evil entity poured into his body and merged with his very soul, the man felt power flow through his veins. At first it was painful, excruciating really, but as the seconds ticked by the pain was replaced with fiery energy, invigorating his previously weak, pathetic body. Had the feeling lasted any longer, no doubt the man would have relished in gifts bestowed upon him that day, but such was not his fate. Unlike the two men before him, his mind and soul were not strong enough to fight the iron will of the foreign entity and within the blink of an eye, his being was totally consumed by the dark faery.
“Freedom!!” he bellowed, springing to his feet, and outstretching his arms as if waking from a prolonged slumber.
The druids around the circle shifted uneasily as they gazed upon their creation; something wasn’t right, and they could feel it. The man was exuding too much magic, and his body was actually physically changing to accommodate the will of the faery inside him. Muscles began to bulge out, and the animated body grew almost an extra foot in height.
“You- you are ours to command. Now what is your name? You’re new masters demand it!” the chief druid called out, his voice unsteady and nervous.
The now towering behemoth smiled as it turned its purple eyes onto the setting around him. “Oh foolish mortals, you know not who you invoked this day,” it laughed condescendingly as it marched towards the threshold of the runes. With one terrifyingly powerful punch the magical energy shattered, allowing him to pass the circle’s barrier.
“How dare you?! We will teach you to obey!” Drawing forth a glowing rune stone, the green clad sorcerer held it high before the newly reborn monster. “Now OBEY!”
The faery flinched slightly, but then reached out, grabbed the stone from the old man’s hands, and proceeded to grind it into dust.
“I obey NO ONE!” it bellowed, before savagely snapping the neck of the druid. Before any of the stunned magicians could react, the monster ravaged through the group, bringing with him a tide of quick and certain death. “I am Kronor! Men and myths alike fear my name, for I bring with me the purity of oblivion!”
Somewhere in the middle of an article analyzing Brad Pitt’s abs and a new ad endorsing Ralph Lauren’s new fragrance, Loki’s keen ears picked up on the commotion off in the distance.
Springing into action, the man ran back to where the Order had been conducting the ritual, only to jerk to an abrupt halt. Beneath a pile of blood, gore and ripped off appendages, not a single druid was left alive. The horrific scene resembled that at the end of Kill Bill Volume 1 after Uma Thurman had cut her way through the Crazy 88s. The only difference here was the corpses lining the blood-stained ground were those of Loki’s now-extinct Order.
All the while unaware of the behemoth which hid magically in the shadows, Loki’s eyes widened as he took in the gruesome picture before him.
“HOLY MASSACRE BATMAN!”
reintroducing Ryan Phillippe as Loki
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Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday, June 20th, 2007
The crowd hushes as the lights dim and a spotlight swings wide over the tightly packed millions to the dazzling host and his sparkling white sequin suit. A wink and a smile makes the women’s knees weak as he gestures widely, flourishing his coat in a deep, elaborate bow.
“Welcome, welcome my fine and lovely guests. A pleasure to see you all once again,” A suave kiss blown into the audience draws a heavy sigh from his adoring fans before he continues. “Tonight we have a very special guest, and one who is completely unaware of what awaits her: Miss Reanna Jamie KOSSINTON!”
And the crown went spastic as the spotlight ran rampant and the never-ending room suddenly lit up in a blinding flash, settling to an easy glow and revealing a somewhat bedazzled woman, blinking into the vast sea of heads that suddenly focused on herself standing there, framed in lame blinking lights, clasping a purple hairbrush… and wearing her red pyjamas… spotted with aerobatic sheep.
“MISS REANNA JAMIE KOSSINTON, PEOPLE!”
“WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”
Reah blinked again, the deafening scream of the crowd all but a suffused hum in her ears.
The host swings his arm in an arc, prompting her as though she were some showcase in his fantabulous show. “Well! Entertain us!”
As the crowd’s cries continued to pierce the air, Reah gazed down to her hairbrush and gave it a light, unsure tap on the head that upset the audio with an unholy screech, bringing a moan and eventually putting a sock in the screaming millions completely.
“Um… hello?”
“Yes! Hi! Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Reah wet her lips, frowning and looking lost at the host’s wide, pearly-white smile - like a deer caught in headlights. “Um…” She was supposed to be doing something, wasn’t she? “Um… Spinning… the wheel… … of death?”
“YES! Spinning the wheel of death! Congratulations!”
“Oh!” Reah’s spirits lifted, her smile cheerful as she bounced perkily on her toes like a little child pleased with herself while she waited eagerly for the sparkling wheel to be brought out. “Cool!”
Reah’s smile turned giddily down to the multiple graves that had followed her in and whispered in barely contained excitement. “I love game shows. Don’t you?”
B'ZZ B'ZZ B'ZZ
Reah’s glazed eyes rolled open, slowly blinking back up in her head as she checked the clock and turned over to snooze. *Note to self: no more drugs of Yatzee. Yatzee drugs bad.*
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Thursday, June 21st, 2007 - 10:23am
1318 Poplar Avenue - Kossinton Apartment
“Hello? Anybody home?” Quin called out to the empty apartment, dropping her bag just inside the door as she stepped through. “Reah?”
Still no answer.
Briskly searching over the apartment to make sure no one else was about, sleeping or what not and otherwise unable to hear her, she strolled back to her bag by the door and snatched it up off the floor.
Unzipping the front pocket as she walked back towards Reah’s bedroom, she removed her purse, flipped it open, then paused suddenly in her tracks. Remembrance of a previous event that had taken place in this room slipped into her mind.
Slowly craning her neck up then scanning over the room she finally spotted them. Security cameras. Cleverly hidden in opposing corners of the room so you wouldn’t find them unless you knew they were there.
Her cousin’s paranoia was a scary thing, and not something to be trifled with.
It was still hard for Quin to comprehend what her cousin was capable of. What was in her. Her favourite, fun, sun-loving hyperactive gun of a cousin from Australia was a mere shadow of the woman she lived with now. They’d never be able to get those days back, despite the recent efforts Reah had been putting in. Which - as sweet as she was sure the intentions were - was another freaky matter in itself.
Oh, the unknown mystery that was her cousin’s brain.
Casually pivoting back around on her heel, Quin headed towards the kitchen, bag slung over her shoulder, and approached the bench scattered with an assortment of envelopes of opened bills, letters and oh… *Invite to Daye and Drew’s wedding.* Quin thoughtfully turned the beautiful invitation over in her hands. *I wonder how long this has been here?* “Hmm…. Seems I’m not invited though.” With a sigh, Quin dropped the heavy paper stock back on the bench and picked up one of Reah’s credit accounts instead.
After a moment, she dropped that letter back on the bench beside the invitation as well and strolled off toward her room.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 20th
10:55 pm
Somewhere in LA
The diner was small, but clearly illuminated. It had two doors, one on each side of its train-like structure, good exit routes, and a long bar with a bored-looking black man behind it. There were some other people at the tables. Insomniacs, probably; certainly nobody there looked like a vampire or a hunter. And she and her 'man' stood out like a couple of white flies. It was perfect, she didn’t want to give the impression that she was ready to jump into this vampire's bed, but neither did she want to scare him away. The diner was at the same time impersonal and cozy.
Elise slid into the booth and quickly took a cigarette packet from her jacket, offering one to Alex. Smoking always provided a good excuse for opening a window, thus offering yet another escape route. She waited till the waiter filled their coffee cups to light her cigarette; but she smiled when he offered her his own Zippo and leant over the table towards her, all the time watching her closely. He hadn't changed his attitude, and that still surprised her. She took a drag before speaking.
"So, Alex, you never told me what you were doing in that bad neighbourhood," she asked, blowing smoke at the same time.
"Just gotten off work," he answered as he brought his own cigarette to his mouth and lit it. "I'm working in a warehouse pretty close to where I found you. Was just on my way home," he continued as a smoke cloud then emanated from his mouth.
"Then I guess that I was just lucky." She smiled, "I don’t know if I would have found my way out of that maze by myself. I've never been in this part of the city before." She took a look around; they were being unceremoniously ignored by the rest of the costumers. "Not the place I'd choose to live, either."
Hunter was silent for a few moments as he brought the coffee cup to his lips. He shivered a bit. He had never liked coffee and always preferred other kinds of beverages instead of it. But he showed no reaction to his dislike as he placed the cup back on the table. He then took another puff on his cigarette before he continued the conversation. "So, this boyfriend of yours, he sounds like a real prick. Does he have a name?"
"NevertoseeyouagainNorman," Elise snorted, and looked away through the window. "But actually he didn’t even deserve the moniker. 'Boyfriend' was too much for the likes of him."
She shrugged and looked back at him, smiling. "My friend Monica says I have a terrible taste in men. Time and again I set to prove her right. Tell me, do you have a girlfriend? The girl you confused me with?"
"I had," he answered and felt the memories pull over him again. He had to put a great amount of effort to banish them back to the back of his mind. "Long story, don't want to talk about it."
Elise nodded, pieces were getting together quite beautifully. What he hadn't said told her more than what he had. Maybe she looked like this ex-girlfriend of his, maybe that was why he hadn't attacked her. She smiled and took another drag on her cigarette. She wasn’t complaining, no way she was complaining.
"We all have our stories. I understand."
The silence that followed stretched too long. Elise studied the vampire through low lidded eyes. He was handsome indeed, and seemed intelligent. Above his basic instincts, at least. He was taking the time to talk to a human in a human environment and managed not to look too out of place. She could see that this silly chit chat wouldn’t take them too far, and she needed to know more. Maybe if she managed to surprise him…
"So, what kind of work does a vampire do in a warehouse?"
Hunter blew out another smoke cloud. "So, you know?" He took another drag. "What was it that gave me away? The handshake?"
He wasn’t easily startled, she had to grant him that; it certainly wasn’t the answer she expecting. Elise shrugged and smiled to cover her disappointment. "That and the Neo look. What I'd like to know is why I'm not part of your liquid diet by now."
"Let's just say that even though I could easily drain you as dry as a prune, I'm not really interested in killing you right now," 'Alex' said as he blew out yet another cloud of smoke. "So, what the bloody hell are you then? A witch? One of those disillusioned goody-twoshoe hunters? Or one of them lasses that enjoys getting a nice bite in the throat?"
Elise threw her head back and laughed.
"Me? A witch? Nah. You won't see me fighting vampires either. No, I'm just 'aware'. Too much happens in this city, you'd have to be blind not to notice. And I do what I have to do to survive; I'd much rather be here chatting with you than in a ditch somewhere." She looked down, and put out her cigarette, getting ready to go. She didn’t think she'd get much more from him tonight, or ever. He was not the usual cotton-brained vampire, and she was getting tired of playing games. "But now I'm tired and I want to go home. Will I be allowed to, or do you have other plans?"
"Do as you wish, cutie," he said and placed his cigarette butt in the nearby ashtray. "However, to be honest I could have snapped that cute little neck of yours the first moment we met, but I didn't. The reason's because you intrigue me, Miss Hunt. You must have some real nerves to invite a soulless killer for a drink. So, I don't think you would be too 'fraid for a second meeting. How about five nights from now? There's a graveyard pretty nearby here and in it's a chapel. Meet me there about 10 p.m. if you would want to know, as you call it, some more. And no, I'm not a religious man. How the bloody hell could I be? It's just pretty close to my place. What do you say?"
The huntress wetted her lips and studied the vampire. What would the 'Elise' she had portrayed respond to that invitation? Recklessness would fit the character. As he had said, all he saw was a woman with some 'nerves' and bad taste in men, both of which could lead her to accept his invitation. Besides, the real Elise wanted to know what it was that he offered, and there was still the fact that he could lead her to Morris.
She faked a small shiver and smiled. "How do I know you won't just kill me on the spot?" Then she waved her hand for him to dismiss the question that he'd already answered. She didn’t think he'd attack her in five nights' time more than he had done that night, but she'd be prepared anyway. She always was. "All right, nobody ever said that I shied away from a little 'adventure'."
Hunter smirked to himself. "Oh, don't worry cutie. Like I said: if wanted you dead, you wouldn't be here talking to me." He rose up from the table and said, "Right then, we'll see each other then. Bye for now."
As he began walking to the exit of the diner he watched her once more. During his many years as a blade for hire he had learned to study expressions and he knew that their was indeed something that was different with this women. She seemed to be very calm about the fact that he belonged to the undead, plus he wasn't really sure if he believed that whole thing with the bastard boyfriend. But if she really had some form of family bond with one of his targets then he couldn't walk away from this, let alone kill her. Plus as he watched her again she did remind him a lot of Ems and even though he barely knew this woman there were some similarities that were almost eerie.
As Hunter came out of the diner he quickly began his way back to Morris' warehouse. Morris was probably very impatient by now but with this good news he would probably not consider turning him into a pile of ashes with a fireball.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
26 June 2007
India - Jungle
Afternoon
Nikolai felt nervous.
There wasn’t any other way to describe it, a week after his arrival in India. He’d left all of the comforts he had enjoyed before behind and now found himself in a place which nobody would believe: now riding on horseback, a feat he was slowly learning, he rode through the forest with but a single companion. A man named Dipak, short and powerfully built, rode beside him.
“Duck!” The warning from Dipak came far too late to do Nikolai any good as his head made a solid thwack against a branch. “Sorry about that. Better luck next time.”
Nikolai grumbled something about the first dozen or so times something like that had happened, but held his tongue. Hunched over, for a first time riding, the entire trip was going remarkably well. He had only fallen off the horse a few times, and now managed to actually stay on and partly upright. Fortunately the horse they selected for him was one of the better ones for a beginner.
Suddenly Dipak stopped, remaining where he was. “This is as far as we ride under our own direction,” the man said.
Nikolai looked at Dipak with a look of surprise on his face, that it was so soon and that he knew exactly where the boundary was. He’d met Dipak soon after leaving the airport, where Dipak explained that he knew why Nikolai was there – or more specifically that the temple’s seer knew he was arriving, and so decided to send the short man to meet him.
All of the accounts had been clear that, in addition to being in the jungle, the temple was itself protected by some kind of mystic rite. Dipak wasn’t sure on the details, nor were any of the authors who spoke of it – but there was one thing that was clear. You couldn’t find the temple by seeking it. “Let’s hope I don’t fall this time,” Nikolai joked with a smile, as he allowed the reins of the horse to fall aside.
“Do not worry,” Dipak replied, allowing his to do the same. “When our seer tells us that something will happen, or that we need to do something, she is always right – and she assures us that nothing will go wrong at this point. So have a little faith and go forward. Ya!” With that, Dipak spurred his horse on, not directing it but allowing the horse itself to follow what path it would.
Nikolai closed his eyes, steadying his breathing, before he joined the man in bounding forward. His horse moved at a steady pace, and Dipak managed to remain in sight as they went toward their goal. Strangely enough, the two horses followed similar paths, even though neither rider was directing them.
They continued through the jungle for a while, and a slight breeze seemed to come out of nowhere. Dipak seemed to take this all in stride, as though he’d done it many times before. Nikolai didn’t know how long they trekked through the jungle like this, but at last the jungle suddenly broke and the breeze stopped; there before them stood a rather large clearing and several fields outside, with a winding path leading to a large stone structure in the distance.
“We’re here,” said Dipak. “You may take up the reins again. The magic that protects this place is strong; without knowing what one must do, all you would find is more jungle until you passed straight through to the other side.”
“Fascinating,” Nikolai said in awe, proceeding through the path with Dipak, occasionally catching sight of a shape in the field. “Do you have any idea how it works?”
Dipak shrugged. “The story says that when the Xangyarj Melander went out seeking adventure, he found it; and that later the magician Kal’Za in meditation came upon something she called the ‘crossroads’, and that the place here was a place ‘in between’. I don’t understand such things myself, to be honest, and Kal’Za’s writings are hardly the easiest to understand even on simple matters, let alone cross-dimensional mystical metaphysics.”
Nikolai shook his head slowly. Cross-dimensional metaphyics? He got the feeling that some of the things that he would learn here would be a bit on the complex side, depending on how it went.
kate's rage comes a calling
***Sunday, 17th June 2007 - 9:04pm***
***Outside The Bibliophile***
The beast lumbered ungainly as it sensed its quarry near at hand. Flexing a large claw scrupulously, it observed with fiery red eyes the sparse crowds of humans hurrying back and forth. The creature kept back in the shadows; it was where it belonged, in the hidden depths of darkness, out of sight from prying eyes.
The beast narrowed its hooded eyes on the faint glow of life within the nearby building. It could smell her scent on the air, strong and distinctive now that she was close. The smell made its skin crawl with rage, boiling hot white rage.
It had to destroy the witch if only so that it could rest, and the beast was so tired… so desperate to rest, to quell the fire in its blood, to cool its wrath.
The witch was the key, her scent was the strongest of them all, it was the beat of its heart and the itch in its skin. As the streets became empty, the beast took a step out into the road, its huge, hulking form illuminated by the overhead street lamps.
It snorted a cloud of hot steam into the cool air with a sense of elation as it closed in upon its prey.
Daye stuck the pencil she was carrying behind her ear and strode out of her office with a handful of papers clutched in one hand. She went into the storeroom and brushed past the small employee lounge area, heading for the shelves which held the new and overflow stock from the shop. She set the papers down on a box and began moving through, searching for a missing shipment that she'd found the invoice for a few minutes before.
The storeroom was dim and dusty, even with the overhead lighting on. One of the light fixtures was flickering.
"I need to have Bryan replace that tomorrow," Daye muttered to herself as she searched. Bryan was the young man Alicia had hired on just to work with shipments and do the occasional simple repair around the shop. Daye thought he was an absolute godsend.
Daye finally found the box she was looking for, but it was way up on the top of one of the storage shelves. Muttering to herself, Daye grabbed the tall, rolling ladder and pushed it over to the shelf. She climbed up and grabbed the box.
The beast crashed through the front door of the little bookstore, not caring about how much noise it made. It had spent too long being silent, being buried away beneath a thousand unspoken conversations. It was desperate to be acknowledged and in that to have its revenge.
Standing in the middle of the store, the creature roared fiercely, the strong scent of its victim driving it to the verge of insanity. Raising a muscular arm, it tossed one of the flimsy tables to one side, roaring again as it continued to demolish the small shop.
Daye heard the crash, followed by a deafening roar and then the sound of things breaking. She stepped off the ladder and dropped the box, running for the door leading back into the shop, not even stopping to wonder if it was a good idea to go charging in. She flew through the door and stopped dead in her tracks. Some kind of enormous, hideous monster was tearing The Bibliophine apart.
The creature was no demon that Daye had ever seen or heard of before. It was red, deep red, with a hard outer shell. It had long, dangerous-looking claws and horns running down its spine and at all its joints. The beast's eyes were glowing angry red as it picked up furniture and tossed it around, breaking glass and causing general chaos.
Unsure how to proceed, Daye cautiously crept into the room, hoping it wouldn't notice her right away. She had no ready spell components or weapons at hand. Everything was in her office.
The creature growled low in its throat as it sniffed the air, turning towards where Daye stood. Its blood pounded hard though its veins as it locked its red eyes on the woman with determined malevolence. Raising a spiked arm, it took a wide swipe at her, the sharp claws of its fingers tearing through Daye’s blouse and grazing the surface of her skin.
Daye felt the claws just barely as her blouse was torn in a jagged line. She had to move quickly. She turned to the right and ducked behind a bookshelf. Breathing deeply, she tried desperately to figure out what to do.
Growling contentedly, the beast shuffled towards the bookcase, roaring loudly as it took hold of the heavy piece of furniture and used its entire weight to overturn it. Sending books flying in all directions, the bookshelf landed on the ground with an almighty crash.
Daye turned towards the beast, scrambling to back away as it approached, glaring at her malevolently. She could see that it was poised to attack as she backed into the wall. Sliding up to a standing position, she couldn't come up with a single plan to fight this thing off. She was as good as dead; when glancing up, she caught sight of the heavy iron candlestick sitting in a crate near the door to the storeroom. It was supposed to be added to the stock of magic supplies that were housed on the upper loft of the shop. Daye realized that there were other weapons up there. There were daggers and an axe hanging on one wall. If she could manage to just get around the beast to the stairwell, she'd be able to at least have a chance at defending herself.
Daye grabbed at the candlestick as the beast reached for her with a tremendous roar. She ducked under its arms and turned immediately, swinging the heavy piece of iron in a wide arc and striking the creature in the side. There was an ugly cracking sound as the heavy object connected with the thick, red shell. Daye didn't stop to see how much damage she'd done. As the monster whirled, more enraged by the pain she'd inflicted, Daye made a dash for the stairs.
The beast roared in pain as the iron candle holder made contact with its shell, splitting one of the panels in two. Black goo rose to the surface, filling the hole made by the candlestick and dripping down onto the floor to form a sticky pool. Its glowing eyes followed the witch as she ran towards the upper floor, lumbering after her as she attempted to make her escape.
Daye reached the stairwell and started up. She was just turning at the landing in the center of the stairs when the beast grabbed hold of the rail and started to shake it, pulling back and forth.
*Goddess, it's trying to rip the stairs away from the wall,* Daye thought, forcing herself to move faster as the stairs swayed beneath her feet. She had just reached the loft when she glanced down involuntarily to see where the creature was. It had stopped attacking the stairs and now glared up at her. She had the distinct impression that the monster was debating the strategic advantages and disadvantages of following her up.
Berating herself for wasting precious time, Daye turned away from the beast as it began its ascent of the stairs. The whole loft trembled slightly from the weight of the enormous monster that was coming after her. Daye drew in rapid breaths as she weaved her way around shelves stocked with herbs, oils, texts, and all the other trappings of magic. She hurried to the back wall, which held an array of magical weapons. Though they were all for sale, they served as ornamentation on this level of the shop as well. Daye reached up and grabbed for a huge hammer, Martik's Hammer to be precise, and turned back around as the beast finally reached the top of the stairs and lumbered towards her, growling menacingly.
The creature narrowed its vision on the witch as she stood, prepared for battle. That was just what it wanted, a fight, a chance to release the pent-up aggression that burned in its veins, that boiled like molten tar.
Snorting a cloud of steam into the air, the creature growled, flexing its huge claws before lunging towards the woman.
Daye braced herself as the beast flew at her. She was trapped in this corner, with only a narrow aisle between the many shelves holding merchandise up here. As the creature shoved through, knocking shelves over and causing the merchandise to careen to the floor with a loud crash, Daye winced. *This shop is cursed, I swear to the gods it is,* she thought. *My insurance doesn't cover attacks by supernatural lobsters, either.*
The beast reached her and swept out with a huge arm. Daye tried to duck, but with her mind not fully on the fight, she failed to get out of the way in time. The arm collided with her body, sending her flying towards a line of shelves. She hit them and they went over. Daye landed on top of a pile of bottles, some breaking and covering her with oils and essences.
Daye held tightly to the hammer as she struggled to shake off the blow. Her head was reeling and she could feel warm blood seeping from a number of cuts on her body.
"No time for this," Daye said through gritted teeth as the beast gave a satisfied roar and moved towards her again.
Triumph flooded the creature’s body as the witch struggled to pull herself from the floor looking bloody and dishevelled. But its inner pain didn’t dissipate; it only increased, growing stronger and more intense. It cried out in rage, taking several swings at the woman, aiming its long, sharp claws directly at her as it fought with the force of all that pain, directing it towards the very embodiment of that torment.
Daye was feeling sluggish and the wounds she’d already received were slowing her down even more. She’d hit her head really hard. Still, there was no time to worry about that or anything else, as the claws sliced into her skin, creating deep furrows in her abdomen and upper thighs. Blood oozed from the scratches and Daye knew she’d have to make a big move soon.
Daye stumbled out of the mess of items and broken shelving. Hefting the hammer, she advanced on the creature. She was not just scared now. Suddenly, she was angry too. “I don’t know who or what you are or where you came from,” Daye shouted, “but I am not going to die today!”
Daye swung the hammer again and again, connecting with the beast, and grinning ghoulishly at each crunch. The beast threw its hands up and backed away as she took the offensive.
With black goo pouring from the wounds on its shoulders and head, the creature staggered backwards. Unable to break the witch’s momentum the beast roared in frustration before making a retreat towards the door.
Its battle would not be won today it realised but that was okay, there were others. Their essence was not as keenly felt as the ferocious witch but it was still there, dark and angry, burning beneath the surface.
Stepping out into the night it sniffed the air once more and set a bounding pace across the city to find its new quarry. It wasn’t far away…
Daye watched the beast turn tail and run. She was panting from exertion and pain. Blood trickled from the cuts and scratches on her body. When she reached up and touched a hand to her temple, it came away sticky as well. *Great, probably a concussion,* she thought wearily.
The creature was moving out of the shop into the street and the city, a city filled with innocents as well as other monsters. Daye wanted to take the time to put in a call to some of her friends and muster reinforcements, but she knew she'd risk losing the monster if she did. Since she had no idea where it had come from or even what it was, Daye just couldn't take that chance.
With a groan, Daye scurried down the stairs and out of the shop, not even taking the time to lock up behind her. Hopefully, no one else would ransack the place before she got back. Daye headed out into the street, just catching sight of the beast as it stumbled around the corner. She rushed on in hot pursuit.
The Beast Comes After Kate and Galen
Sunday, 17th June 2007 – 10:13pm
Kate and Galen’s House, Birch Street
The television crackled noisily, blaring out some action movie though it was blatantly ignored. Above the din, Galen mumbled his appreciation as Kate lay in his arms on the couch, her lips and tongue providing a delightful distraction from the movie. He moaned a little as she pressed her body against his own, her gentle and attentive kisses becoming decidedly more urgent.
With a contented sigh, he pulled back, smiling into Kate’s happy face and brushing her hair from her eyes with his fingertips. Though he hadn’t agreed with the spell that she’d performed two days ago he had to admit that the change in his wife had been astounding. Before she had been withdrawn and morose; even in the heat of passion there had always been a sort of melancholy in her eyes and a lingering sadness in all her words of reassurance. But ever since the spell she’d been like a completely different person, carefree and lighthearted as though she didn’t have a trouble in the world.
“What do you say we take this upstairs?” he suggested, trailing his hand down the arch of her back contemplatively.
“Oh I don’t know,” grinned Kate, leaning in to lay several warm, hungry kisses against Galen’s mouth while letting her hand slide down his chest purposefully. “I’m more than comfortable right here.”
“But wouldn’t that be risky?” Galen asked with fake concern, there was little to no chance that they would be interrupted with Jack out with some of his buddies and what was left of Kate’s friends from England also out of the house. “Why, somebody might walk in at any moment.”
“That is true,” agreed Kate, playing along with the scenario, a coy smile lighting up her face. “But that’s what makes it so exciting, the fact that at any minute we could get caught.”
“Well then,” said Galen with a grin, his hands travelling lower down Kate’s body as he reciprocated her eager kisses, “we should probably put a stop to all this talking.”
****
Daye had trailed the beast through the dark, deserted streets, growing more and more confused as it avoided everything and everyone, hell-bent on some destination that apparently only the creature was privy to. She chased it, but couldn't help falling behind as the wounds in her thighs and abdomen bled more profusely the faster she tried to move.
She was feeling queasy and light-headed as she turned the corner into a more residential neighbourhood, one she was actually very familiar with. Dread filled her as she suddenly realised where they might be heading.
"I should have called," she panted, scolding herself. "Damnit, I could have at least warned her."
The creature pressed its long snout against the window of the Eldridge house, the scent of lust and desire filling its nostrils as it narrowed its red, glowing eyes on the couple within. Their scent was just as intoxicating as the witch’s had been, but it was different. The man; his was a little similar, burning, resentful, conflicted, but the woman’s… it was a part of the creature itself. She was a part of it, and it a part of her. It could feel it now, feel its heart beat in time with hers, feel its lungs draw breath as she drew breath. She was the source of its creation, and it was born out of everything that she despised.
The creature knew it had to kill her, she hated herself, felt abhorrence for herself for her own transgressions and that self-loathing and malice was every bit as destructive as any ill-will that she harboured for the outside world. The beast burned with those emotions; it had to end the woman’s existence, only then would it be free from her.
****
Kate giggled as Galen lay a trail of kisses across her throat, sliding her sweater down her shoulder to give him greater access to her bare flesh. Kate laughed again as Galen drew his hand slowly up the back of her legs, tracing gentle circles across her most ticklish areas with his fingertips.
Suddenly, Kate pushed Galen back; her senses alert to some change in the room’s atmosphere and she felt a chill creep up her spine. She’d been so tuned into her husband’s passionate emotions that the alteration was like someone had thrown a cold bucket of water over her. Galen looked confused, dazed from the sudden halt to their passions, but the look on Kate’s face was enough to bring him back to reality.
“Honey?” he asked quietly, straightening out his clothes before he tried to follow the direction of her wary gaze. “Is something wrong? What is it?”
Kate frowned, trying to narrow her psychic powers onto the source of the disturbance. “I don’t know… it just feels so…”
With a loud crash, the front door burst open, panels of wood and splinters firing in all directions. Galen stood protectively in front of his wife, grabbing his pistol from the coffee table as the malevolent-looking beast came into view.
“Goddamn it, I thought we had the apocalypse already,” he mumbled as he levelled his gun at the monster and fired.
Daye pushed herself as quickly as she could manage, weaving through the darkened streets and praying she wasn't too late. That thing, whatever it was, had made a beeline for Kate's house - which meant that, among other things, the attack at the shop hadn’t been some sort of random act of demonic insanity. For some reason, this thing was targeting them. Possibly it had been sent by some enemy of the White Hats, and would continue to rampage through them if it wasn't stopped. That was why Daye had to hurry.
She ignored the burning pain in her limbs, the dull ache in her arms from the weight of the hammer in her hands, and the throbbing in her head. She focused solely on what she had to do. It didn't matter that she was feeling nauseous or that her vision was blurred.
Kate and Galen, and anyone else staying at the Birch Street House for that matter, was in danger. Daye had to help them. Finally, rounding the corner, Daye caught sight of Kate's house. She could see light spilling from the windows and open doorway. Her hope that no one would be home was shattered. Without hesitation she pushed harder, running all-out for the house.
“What the hell is that thing?” said Galen as he fired several shots at the hulking beast, the bullets ripping through the thick crimson shell of the demon, spewing black goo, but barely slowing the creature’s determined advance.
Kate stared at the beast; its glowing red eyes locked with her own. There was something innately familiar about the fire that burned there, of the anger and bitterness that stared back at her but she couldn’t think what it was. The sound of the creature’s agony-filled howls combined with further gun shots reverberated throughout the house and Kate grabbed hold of her husband’s hand, pulling him back, trying to get him to stand behind her.
“No. NO!” said Galen firmly, to Kate’s unspoken plea. He took several more shots, aiming at the demon’s head, when suddenly the creature swung out a muscular arm, swiping him off his feet and propelling him across the room. He hit the wall and landed on the floor with a muffled ‘Ugh’.
Daye came up the walk as the first of the shots sounded in the early evening stillness. *Galen,* she thought, thankful that Kate's husband was both paranoid and quick on his feet. She bounded up the porch steps and came up to the door just as the creature swung out and backhanded Galen across the room. Daye didn't hesitate for even a second. Hammer raised, she charged the beast with an angry shout.
“Daye!” said Kate in surprise as the witch burst in through the door and began attacking the creature with fierce determination despite the obvious wounds that she was trying hard to ignore. Daye swung the large hammer again and again, ducking to avoid the demon’s powerful attack as it lurched and swiped at her with those deadly claws. With the momentary reprieve, Kate hurried to help Galen to his feet. He groaned dizzily and held his head in pain as she guided him out of harm’s way.
The creature, however, had different ideas. Seeing the creator of its torment only a few feet away, it batted the ferocious witch to one side, her already wounded body crashing into the small coffee table by the foot of the sofa. The demon narrowed its fiery eyes on the couple, roaring loudly as it grabbed hold of the male, hoisting him off his feet and flinging him across the living room again as though he were an irritating piece of lint. Kate slowly backed away as the creature directed its entire focus on her.
“Abhibere!” she cried out loudly, making a sweeping gesture with her arms as she tried to repel the demon. When her magic had no effect, Kate frowned; incanting her spell again with reinforced power. “ABHIBERE!”
The demon growled low in its throat, a gleam of triumph flickering through its eyes; so red, so hot with fire and destructive intent. Kate gasped suddenly, her hand flying to cover her mouth as she shared a brief moment of recognition with the beast before it knocked her down to the ground, its sharp claws slicing into her upper arm.
Kate cried out in pain as bright red blood quickly soaked her sweater and poured down her arm. The demon grabbed hold of her by the hair, pulling her head back so that it could look her in the eye, uttering a low, almost confused growl as it trailed its razor sharp claws across her throat contemplatively.
“I know what you are,” she moaned pitifully, looking up at the creature of her own making. She had made this, this thing… Kate glanced at her best friend, at her husband lying hurt and in pain. She had done this to the people she cared about, she had done this to herself. How could she have let things get so bad?
“I know the pain you’re feeling, I know that more than anything you want it to end. Please…” Kate begged, staring into the beast’s glowing eyes. “We are the same, from the same spirit, but I don’t want to feel this way anymore. It’s time to let it go.”
Daye lay sprawled in the wreckage of Kate's coffee table. She shook her head to try and clear some of the wooziness. She'd heard a sickening crack when she'd landed and trying to move her left leg caused sharp pain to shoot up from her ankle. Daye ignored it and the other pains in her body as she struggled upright. She leaned heavily on the hammer.
The beast held Kate by her hair. It was staring down at the other witch. Daye listened as Kate spoke softly to it. She frowned. *What is she saying?* Daye asked herself. *She knows that thing? What is Kate saying?*
"Let her go," Daye growled through gritted teeth. She limped forward, leaning on the hammer as a crutch.
Kate continued to stare up at the creature, her eyes never leaving those that stared back. Even so, she could feel her friend’s wilful defiance and also the agony that she was in. Kate sighed wearily, still keeping her eyes locked with the Beast of Emotion.
“This isn’t what we want anymore,” she said quietly. “We’re ready to forgive, to move on. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
The creature growled in unanimity, slowly releasing its grip on Kate and taking a step back. It glanced at Daye, growling again, but this time it was merely a sound of acknowledgement.
Galen pulled himself to his feet again, standing next to Amanda as the two closely observed Kate and the demon.
Daye stared in confusion at both Kate and the demon. She glanced once quickly up at Galen and noticed that he didn't look all that surprised, just really sad.
*I'm definitely missing something here,* Daye thought. She wanted to demand answers, but decided that at the moment the best thing to do would be to just remain quiet and wait to see what happened next.
Kate glanced guiltily at her husband and friend. They were both badly hurt, with cuts and bruises and Gaia only knew what other injuries that she couldn’t clearly see. Looking at Galen though, Kate could tell that he knew what had happened, as though he had been partly expecting it. He’d warned her about the spell in the first place, and he’d also warned her that by holding on to her pain and bitterness she risked hurting those she cared about the most. It seemed he had been right, about everything.
Daye on the other hand looked confused and curious, and rightly so. She had risked her life fighting this demon, trying to protect her friends, and now she was wounded and in pain. Kate knew that she would have a lot of explaining to do but first she had to clean up the mess that she’d created.
Turning her attention back to the creature, Kate sighed deeply, focusing her powers upon the avatar of hate and suffering that she had given birth to.
“Undo the magic acted here,
Reverse the spell so all is clear.
With no more hate, and no more fear,
My mind is clear, I’m standing here.
Standing firmly in this place,
Creature of my anger be banished, you are erased.
Guiding spirits hear my plea,
Annul this magic, let it be.”
As the words left Kate’s lips, glittering white lights issued from her fingertips and gathered around the monster which sat quietly opposite her. The beams of light spun faster and faster, weaving a sparkling web of magic around the creature’s form until it couldn’t be seen anymore.
Kate watched intently, her arms outstretched towards her abhorrent creation, maintaining the flow of power. She could keenly feel the monster’s pain as it was broken down into the familiar red mist that had been drawn out of her own body just two days ago. Much of that smoke-like substance was absorbed by the brilliant magics Kate created, but some of it escaped, flowing back into her body.
The creature dissolved into nothing, but Kate, gasping with weak sickness, stumbled before sitting herself on the floor, clutching painfully at her chest as the last of the vapour settled inside her. It stung like nettles, tingling and raw, but strangely it was not as bitter or as strong as it had been before.
As she regained her sense of composure, Kate looked up, feeling guilt and shame flood her being as she beheld her loved ones, still staring at her with incredulity. She bit her lower lip remorsefully, barely able to hold their gazes, especially as she noticed Daye’s bloody and beaten appearance.
“Galen?” she croaked, her voice full of self-recrimination, “Daye… I-I’m so… so sorry. This was all my fault!” she exclaimed wearily, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I never meant this to happen.”
Daye was reeling from what she'd just witnessed. As near as she could guess, Kate had somehow accidentally created that monster. Daye wasn't sure how or why. She moved slowly across the room towards where Kate sat. Kneeling down with an obvious wince.
Daye sighed. "Kate, are you..? What..?" Daye paused and closed her eyes as she attempted to gather her thoughts. Her head was spinning and she was beginning to feel nauseous from the pain. Unable to hold on now that the fight was over and her adrenaline had begun to subside, Daye settled back onto the floor rather ungracefully and brought one hand up to her head as she slowly looked around at the broken furniture. She'd seen the creature disappear, becoming a part of Kate, but she still was shocked that no trace of it remained.
"Kate?" Daye glanced over her shoulder at Galen who still stood staring, looking like he really didn't know what to do next. "Galen? What just- what was that? What happened here?"
Kate’s eyes were wide and full of horror as she took in the extent of Daye’s injuries. “Look what I- what I’ve done to you,” she whispered guiltily, tears gently rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Daye. I just, I didn’t know what to do, I just wanted to stop feeling so… so… bad, so awful inside. I couldn’t stand it, and I tried to stop feeling that way.” Kate glanced up at her husband who smiled weakly at her in return, “But I couldn’t, it was just there all the time.”
“Shhh,” soothed Galen as he crouched down behind his wife and rubbed her shoulders gently. He winced inwardly as he glanced at Daye, she looked in a pretty bad way, it was obvious that the monster creation had attacked her prior to it coming to their home.
“Kate did a spell,” he said with a weary sigh, trying to explain what he could while still offering comfort to his wife. “A couple of days ago, to stop herself from feeling so…” Galen frowned, he was at a loss really, he didn’t know how any of this had happened.
“It worked; at least, we thought it had.” Galen looked down at Kate, brushing her hair back to one side gently. “But this- this monster, whatever it was. The spell must have backfired, or something, created this thing.”
Daye was taken aback by Galen's admission. She had known that Kate was still struggling with her conflicted feelings, but she hadn't realised the extent of the other woman's lingering resentment. Daye felt sick at the thought that Kate was still angry enough, still hurt enough for the monster that had just been present to have been created from the other woman's feelings.
Tears shimmering in Daye's eyes, she glanced up at Kate. "Oh Kate. Why- you should have told me," Daye said. "I'm so sorry. I should never have pushed you to be involved with this wedding. I should have backed off and given you some space. I'm so sorry."
Shaking her head slowly, blatantly ignoring the way the room started to spin, Daye struggled to her feet. "I should have realised that I was asking for too much, trying to just go back to the way things were before." Daye's voice was weak and defeated as she reached for the hammer to use for support.
She turned slowly away from Kate and Galen. "I'm..." Daye's voice trailed off and her shoulders drooped. She had nothing left to say. She started to make her way towards the door. "Nothing will ever be the way it was before," she muttered.
Galen watched Daye try to stand and quickly rose to his feet, stopping her before she’d taken more than a few steps. “Now you just wait a minute,” he said firmly. “You’re not going anywhere, especially not in this state.”
He glanced at Kate who still sat in an inglorious heap on the floor, her red cheeks stained with tears and her eyes sorrowful and dejected. Things between the two women had gone far enough in his opinion. He knew that the last thing Kate wanted was to lose all sight of the once powerful friendship that she’d shared with Daye, but if the two of them didn’t sit down and talk about things rationally that was exactly what would happen.
Helping Daye over to the sofa, Galen sat her down before directing Kate to sit next to her. When the women were side by side he stood facing them.
“I know that I have no right to make demands of either of you, but I can’t stand this any longer. This whole thing happened tonight because you wouldn’t talk about what’s happened,” he turned his attention to Kate, “because you tried to ignore it,” he looked towards Daye, “because you tried to act like nothing had changed.”
“Well things have changed, that’s the brutal truth. But I won’t stand idly by and let the two of you tear yourselves apart. You were good friends, best friends. Kate, you stayed by Amanda’s side when she gave birth to Maia; and Daye, you held Kate while she cried on your shoulder when Emma died, when I was acting like the world’s biggest jerk. You held each other’s children, you spent more afternoons gossiping and drinking tea in that kitchen than I can count. You’ve saved each other’s lives on numerous occasions, the two of you have been there for one another during the worst periods of your lives. You’re more than friends - you’ve been the closest thing to family that either of you have known.”
Galen took a step back, rubbing his aching head. “Well I’ve said it now, I just think the two of you should think about everything that you’ve shared before you decide to throw it all away.” He regarded both of the women for a few seconds before heading towards the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.
Daye sat in silence after Galen walked away. She knew that what he'd said was true, but she just couldn't figure out what to say. She wanted to fix things, but she had no idea how.
"Kate, I..." Daye began, but trailed off, sighing and shaking her head. "Galen's right. You're the best friend I've ever had, Kate. You're like a sister to me. Even after all that's happened, I still feel that way. I hate myself for what I did to you, and I'm terrified that you'll never really be able to forgive me. Kate, I know that you're angry about what happened with Galen, but to be honest, it's not that that I feel the worst about."
Kate frowned a little in confusion, glancing momentarily in the direction that her husband had gone. She knew he was right, that they had to talk, but even though she didn’t feel angry like before it still hurt to think about everything that had happened.
Wincing at the pain in her left arm, Kate looked down at the bloody cuts in her shoulder. “This is a mess,” she sighed, turning her eyes back to Daye. “And you - you’re hurt, this is my fault. You should let me heal you first, you look like you’re in a lot of pain-”
Daye held up a hand to stop Kate's words and actions. "No. Kate, we have to do this now. We have to talk about this now. We've waited far too long as it is."
Kate sat still, not moving a muscle and averting her eyes from Daye’s. “I know,” she said quietly, looking lost and full of remorse. “I thought…” Kate sighed wearily, rubbing her forehead in a soothing motion. “It’s not been easy living with Galen these past few weeks, lately. He’s had this irritating habit of always being right.”
She smiled weakly, sharing glances with Daye. “And, I wanted to be a part of your wedding. I still do, if you still want me to be after all this.”
Kate looked down at her arm, re-arranging the sleeve of her sweater more comfortably. “Galen IS right,” she said after a moment, her voice quiet and unassuming as she occupied her fidgeting hands with tending to her wound.
“You’ve been there for me during every terrible, awful thing that’s happened in my life, you’re the reason why I took a chance on Galen in the first place. After I had Emma and I was terrified about being a mother and having this tiny little person completely dependent on me… you made me believe in myself, made me feel capable. That’s why I was so angry at you. Not just because of what happened with Galen, but because of that I felt like I’d lost my best friend.”
Daye nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. She reached out hesitantly and gripped Kate's hand. "I-I know. That's what I've been the most afraid of. That's what I've felt the guiltiest about. It wasn't enough that I- that I slept with your husband but then I had to go and gloat about it. I feel sick when I think of the terrible things that I said to you. I slept with a lot of men while I was infected. I- I was indiscriminate and my sexual appetite was voracious, but I was mean to you. I've thought a lot about that."
Daye paused. Her gaze dropped to the floor. "I couldn't figure out why I wanted to hurt you that way. But, recently I've been thinking that I... I guess on some level I've always been a bit jealous of you, Kate."
Kate had felt numb inside as she’d listened to Daye’s words, not really letting herself connect to them, afraid to if she was being honest. The emotions she’d felt all those months ago, when she had stood in Daye’s apartment and heard that horrible, vicious declaration - she never wanted to feel that way again. So weak, so pathetic, so desperate to end it all, to find some peace. Kate felt warm tears building in her eyes but at Daye’s final confession she looked up, shock and confusion clouding her features.
“Jealous? Of me?” she asked incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief. “That’s just ridiculous. My life lurches from one disaster to the next. What is there to be jealous of?”
Daye laughed softly. "Is that how you see it?" she asked. "Funny, I've always thought that your life is so wonderful. You were always so powerfully connected to your magic and you had all of Sindell to support and nurture you as you grew up. And now, well, you've got Galen haven't you? He loves you so much, and he understands what it means to love someone like us. I envy you that. I don't think anyone I've ever been with - not Ryan, not Drew - I don't think anyone has ever really understood me the way that your husband understands you."
A slight, reticent smile curled the very corner of Kate’s mouth as she thought of her husband. She often believed that he was the one thing in the whole world that she could depend on, the only thing sometimes.
“I’ll always thank the coven for what they gave me. But they also took away my mother, and my father and any chance I might have had of a normal childhood. Galen…” Kate almost sighed his name, “he’s the one saving grace in my life. You’re right, he does understand. I don’t think it’s so much the magic he understands. I mean, I’m a witch, it’s what I am but it’s not WHO I am… if that makes any sense.”
Kate smiled uncomfortably, looking up at her friend almost guilty. “But as for jealousy?” Kate shook her head, “You have so much, Daye. Drew might not be from our world but he cares about you, he loves you. And then there’s Maia-”
Kate looked away sadly. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”
At Kate’s mention of Maia, Daye flushed with guilt. Her friend had lost her own little girl, and sometimes Daye felt so overwhelmingly bad that she still had Maia while Kate suffered so.
“Maia,” Daye sighed. “Despite everything that’s happened because of that little girl, I still love her so much. I never knew - well, you know - I am lucky to have her in my life. She gives me purpose. I know what you’ve been through, and I don’t think it’s any kind of rational thing, but I still think some part of me envies you in a way. That’s why I lashed out like that. At least partially it is. Of course I also did it cause I was a selfish, heartless bitch.”
Daye wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, Kate, you should just kick my ass. It might make you feel better.” Daye stood and spread her hands in supplication. “Go ahead. I’m pretty sure you could take me right now.”
“Oh Amanda,” said Kate with a quiet, morose laugh. She took hold of Daye’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “I don’t want to hurt you, none of this was about hurting you or trying to get even or anything like that.”
Kate held Daye’s gaze for a few minutes, feeling sadness filling her up inside. Releasing Daye’s hands, Kate stood and walked over to the fireplace, leaning on the mantle. She felt weak from the effects of her magic, and her arm still ached powerfully from where the creature had attacked her, but the things that she felt inside were so much more painful than anything she felt externally.
She sighed; looking at one of the framed photographs that stood propped on the mantelpiece. The picture was one of herself and Galen, playing with Emma on the beach at Santa Monica, taken only a few months before their dear little girl had died. In the glass, Kate could see Daye’s reflection as she fidgeted uncomfortably on the couch.
“This whole thing, the spell - I did it so that I could move on with my life, so that all of us could.” Kate shook her head sadly. “Because despite everything, no matter how much I tried, I just felt so angry and bitter and I could feel it taking over. I knew that if I didn’t do something about how I felt it would ruin everything, it would come between Galen and I, and we…” Kate turned around to face Daye, “you and I would never be able to be friends again.”
Closing the space between them, Kate sat back down next to Amanda, fixing her with a certain and unerring gaze. “That was the last thing I wanted to happen. Galen’s right, you are my best friend, the things that we’ve been through they count for more than this one incident. I don’t want to hurt you Daye. Oh I did once, not so long ago either, but now? Haven’t we all been through enough? Haven’t we all been punished enough?”
Daye fought down her own tears. “I don’t know, Kate,” she said with a sigh. “I honestly don’t. Sometimes the guilt is so heavy, sometimes the pain is so big that I don’t know if I’ll ever feel right again. Sometimes I think that no matter how much I’m punished for what I did, it will never feel like the slate is clean. I’ll never feel like it’s enough.”
Daye paused, reaching up to brush away the tears that slowly slid down her cheek. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone again. I never want to hurt anyone I love that way, not ever again. And you - you’re right. You’re my best friend too. You’re the closest thing I have to a sister, the closest I’ve ever come. I don’t want there to be anger or resentment or even guilt between us. I just want us to be okay again, Kate. I want that more than anything.”
Kate felt tears welling up in her own eyes though she tried her best to hold them back. “Me too,” she sniffled meekly, wiping at her watery eyes. “And then I go and create this, this monster that nearly kills you, that could have killed Galen. I just-” Kate sniffled again, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as steady tears began to roll down her cheeks.
“I just didn’t know what to do for the best any more, all I wanted was for things to go back to the way they were and I know that it never can, not really, but…” Kate looked up at Amanda, her eyes full of unshed tears. “But I wished - I hoped - that I could at least make things better.”
The sight of Kate’s tears was more than Daye could resist. Openly weeping, she moved towards her friend and drew her into a close embrace. “Things can be better,” Daye whispered in a choked tone. “We can go forward from here and make things better, Kate. I know that we can.”
Kate held on to Daye tightly as they both sobbed and sniffled on each other’s shoulders. The closeness brought back a flood of memories of times past when they had comforted one another through the worst of life’s miseries and Kate felt a heavy pang of loss inside.
“Maybe,” she sniffled, her voice choked with emotion, “in some twisted way, the spell worked after all.”
From the kitchen archway, Galen watched the two women as they both cried openly and held each other in a mutually comforting embrace. A slight relieved smile curled one side of his mouth as he watched the scene quietly for a moment before turning back into the kitchen. A first aid kit waited on the counter next to the telephone handset which lay on one side, a muffled voice sounding from the other end.
Galen picked up the phone, holding it up against his ear. “Sorry to keep you waiting Drew,” Galen glanced in the direction of the living room as he heard the hushed voices of Daye and his wife. “Do you think you could give it maybe half an hour?”
Galen nodded his head in agreement to Drew’s response, his earlier smile appearing again. “Yeah, I think maybe things are gonna work out.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 25th
9:23 PM,
Bob's Bar
LA
“Yeah…” Kyle shifted his balance uncomfortably. He hadn't really been listening to what Zax had said, just felt that a reply of some sort was needed from him. His mind was on other things. “Hey, Zax; you’re pretty switched on to what goes around in town, right?”
Zax let out a roar of laughter, slapping down a winning hand on the table-top where they sat in Bob’s. His cohorts groaned and folded and Zax pulled a huge pile of money, small weapons and souvenirs towards him. “Between me and Bob, pal, we know everything that goes on. Well, of an underworld nature, of course.”
“Of course,” Kyle repeated, nodding.
The demon stopped counting his winnings long enough to give Kyle an odd look. “I haven’t known you long, pal, but I can see your thinking look a mile off.”
“Yeah, he don’t wear it often.” One of the cohorts, Lars, chuckled to himself.
Zax grabbed a beer bottle and clubbed Lars over the head with it. It didn’t do much to the warrior demon but rattle him a little and stop him from laughing. “Watch your tounge! This is the guy that killed a Slayer, remember!” He turned back to Kyle. “What’s troubling you?””
“Well, umm, it’s like this,” the Kaoshian began. “I’m looking for somebody. An old friend. ’Bout my age, comes from Chicago, he and his older brother are in a vampire-hunting gang. Last I checked they were on the verge of a minor war with some vamps.” He shook his head. “That was a couple of months ago. You probably don’t know shit about it.”
But to Kyle’s surprise, Zax nodded as he dealt again and took a swig from Lars’ beer. “Yeah, I heard about that. I know the guys you’re talking about.”
Kyle’s mouth worked a couple of times before he found his voice. “But… how? There must be dozens of vampire and vampire-fighting gangs in LA!”
“Not a few months ago, there weren’t.” Zax answered. “Now they’re springing up all over again, course, but back then in the aftermath of the Brotherhood’s time in town there was only one big one of both types. The vampires had formed in the absence of the last big vamp gang – the Black Veins – and the humans had come together for safety in numbers in response. They were both at each others’ throats for a long time.” He flashed his cohorts a toothy grin. “Gonna be taking you guys to town again.” They both groaned.
Not watching the game at all, the Kaoshian frowned. “What happened to them?”
“Not sure myself. But I know somebody who does. Hey, Bob!” Zax yelled. “Remember that near-gang war a few months ago? What happened?”
The bartender made his way over from the bar. “Ehh, yeah. It was weird. The whole thing was boiling over for weeks and weeks. Both of them were looking far and wide for more muscle. Everybody knew there was going to be a fight. Hell, there was even a minor skirmish in here, once!”
“What happened, Bob?” Kyle pressed.
“Well, like I said; it was weird,” Bob went on. “There’s a lot of confusing stories, but from what I heard it’s like this. In one night it was all over. One of the humans was checking out the vamp lair or something and got chased all the way back to his own. Once the vamps knew where the humans were at, they moved in. Apparently it was a slaughter. Both sides were just wiped out.”
Kyle’s jaw dropped. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t…
“But it gets weirder,” Bob carried on to Zax, “’cos the vamps left a bunch behind to take care of their lair. A client of mine trades weapons to ’em and dropped by the next morning only to find they had all been dusted. Somebody had attacked the vamps, whilst the vamps attacked the humans.”
“And just like that, they’re wiped out. Huh. Weird,” Zax commented, then looked round at Kyle. “Hey, pal, you okay? You look a little pale.”
Kyle’s jaw was still hanging. He managed to find his voice, but it was weak and he spoak in a croak. “Do-do you know their name? The vampire gang?”
“Aww, I know this one,” Zax said, rubbing his large brooding forehead. “Damnit…what was it?”
“Uh, Snakebites, boss?” Lars suggested.
“Naw, it was Deathskulls!” his partner, Grons, corrected.
“Shut up, both of you!” Zax shouted, slamming his fist on the table so hard it made Grons’ bottle topple over and the cards to go flying. “I’m trying to think!”
“Blood Axes,” Bob said, now from back at the bar. “They were the Blood Axes.”
The true impact of what Kyle had learned hit him like a brick and made him gasp. “Oh…God…” He managed to stutter, breathless. In a daze he mumbled parting words to Zax and staggered out the bar.
Outside he stopped and looked up as the heavens finally broke and poured with rain. Large droplets of water splashed onto his face, ran down his cheeks and soaked his clothes.
Kyle looked down the street. He knew where he had to go. He didn’t want to go there, but he knew he had to.
At last, he set off.
+++Two Hours Later+++
Kyle decided not to think anything. Instead, he stripped the body of the battered, three-quarter-length leather jacket and slung it over his own frame. Then he reached over and closed Hayden’s eyelids.
“Well, that just sucks,” a voice said over his shoulder, a voice that was so familiar, and yet so unexpected, it made Kyle jump away to his feet despite himself. He stared, uncomprehendingly, at the person who stared beamingly back. “Bet it musta really hurt,” the person said, looking towards the body on the floor.
His own body.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
***** 1:47a.m. Tuesday, June 12th 2007 – Culver City *****
The marketplace had taken them in, engulfing the two travelers in the sensual experiences of sights and sounds. They had shared a plate of hot, spicy curry bought from a heavy street vendor who had arms like the beef haunches he was hawking, declaring it the best they’d had and then cooling off their burning tongues with flavored ices, the blue and red juices running down their chins as they laughed and tried to eat it before it melted. For once, Simryn did not think of the uncertainty of her future.
It was only later, when all but the most determined of visitors had left and the vendors were packing their wares in the empty streets, that Vivek remembered why they had come there in the first place. Glancing surreptitiously at his watch he cursed under his breath; the time for his meeting had long since passed. Simryn didn’t seem to have noticed and Vivek was loath to disturb her where she sat with her head resting on her arms, her knees raised as she looked over the city with sleepy green eyes. She seemed so at peace, an illusion if ever there was one, and Vivek’s lips turned up wryly at his own musings.
“Come, we must leave,” he finally spoke, softly, reluctantly and she turned her head slowly toward him. Vivek drew in a steadying breath against the image that suddenly assailed him. For a moment, without the streetlights to keep the night at bay, she had seemed frail and small against that vast darkness, a vulnerability that belied the power she exuded in the comforting light of day. It was a portent of things to come, Vivek might have thought, if he hadn’t been trying so hard to be more practical.
He held out a hand to help her up and noticed that she had already come to her feet and was brushing bits of grass off her skirt. Squashing the small glimmer of regret he was feeling at missing that opportunity for contact, however brief, he ushered her back toward the main street and headed straight for the darkened gates of the temple. “Will they be awake so late?” Simryn asked in a tone more curious than suspicious and Vivek nodded, silently hoped so; he had the feeling that whatever answers were concealed here, the finding of them could not be delayed by even a single day.
A bell tolled somewhere beyond the gates, loud enough to rouse a flock of birds nesting in the eaves of the temple. Vivek released the bell pull as if it had become hot in his hand and looked around sheepishly as the birds squawked and chittered indignantly at the rude awakening. The soft whisper of slippers whisking swiftly across the floor came to them and Vivek cleared his throat and straightened his collar as Simryn looked on in amusement. There was an audible click as a lock was turned on the other side of the gate. Somehow one always expected doors like these to creak, but the door slid open silently and Vivek and Simrym slipped in like shadows.
Moonlight glittered into tiled courtyard, undimmed by artificial light, leaving silver patches on the black and red bricks running in traditional symmetrical designs beneath their feet. Hiding the wall that separated the temple from the rest of the world were huge, broad-leafed trees, their branches low and twisted from the buffeting of countless years. The shaded place called to Simryn and she slipped off her sandals to feel the cool, slightly rough path as she walked barefoot to climb the temple stairs. Almost pensively, the hooded robed figure that had led them in considered the Kshatrani then trailed behind followed by an equally confused Vivek.
Simryn had never been here before, and yet she seemed almost at home among the old trees and older stone.
At the towering arched doorway, the other two removed their shoes as well. “This way,” said the figure in a voice that was obviously female.
Vivek followed up and down winding hallways, lit only by flickering diyas lining the passageway, till they reached their destination and the girl knocked lightly on the door, which didn’t seem any different from the multitude of other doors they had already passed. She turned the latch, motioning for Vivek to enter but he looked around the hall, suddenly realizing with chagrin that Simryn hadn’t followed them. Turning to his guide he opened his mouth but was cut short by another voice.
“She will be all right,” it said, again female but this time resonating with age and untold knowledge. “It is you with whom I wish to speak.”
Intrigued and compelled by that voice, Vivek entered.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
***** 12:52p.m. Wednesday, June 13th 2007 – The Ambika Temple, Culver City *****
Beyond the high walls and iron gate came the sounds of people and cars; the general traffic of city life continued as if to remind her of something, but it was muted, distant, and Simryn did not let it trouble her as she walked beneath the wide-reaching branches of aged trees. Surprisingly, being enclosed within the temple’s sphere did not make her restless and she was happy to simply enjoy the environment and her own thoughts. Idly, Simryn wondered what had become of Vivek; he had gone off by himself last night, although in fairness it was she who had not followed when he had been led away. But the inside of the temple had been fascinating and she had been unable to tear herself away from the images carved into every stone surface, telling tales that were both wondrous and strangely familiar.
By the time she had noticed that both he and the stranger who had let them through the gates were gone another silent acolyte had led her silently to another part of the structure. Pushing through tall oaken doors she had discovered a delightful room that, in her arrogance, she considered no more than her right. It was large, with a high ceiling that gave it an airy feel and it seemed like hundreds of oil-lamps had been lit all around warming the air and lending a soft comforting glow to the carved four poster bed in the center. Upon it were soft, embroidered silk cushions and layers of rich hued covers with gold and silver tassels.
It was the very picture of the decadence she had once been used to, a far cry from where she and Vivek resided now in an apartment that was about the same size as this single room. One of the walls was carved with rows of eight-pointed stars and allowed air to flow in from outside.
Parting a veil of turquoise chiffon curtains, Simryn stepped out onto a semi-circular balcony that overlooked the city and wondered at the familiar sensation this room evoked. It was more than just a recognition of the opulence, but something that was specific to this room and these things. It was this same awareness that somehow did not make her question how a room like this should be in a temple of worship, and she fell into a deep untroubled sleep.
Morning dawned, sunlight filtering through the arabesque stars of the far wall and Simryn pushed herself awake to find that a scented bath had already been prepared for her. Excitedly she stripped herself, lowering slowly into the cool, rose-scented water. After days of quick showers in that impossibly small shower stall back at the apartment this was an unexpected treat and she took her time in her ablutions. Drying herself and quickly donning a simple butter-yellow salwar-kameez that had been draped over a chair for her, Simryn pulled the dupata over her head and pushed out the door into an dauntingly empty hallway.
But then her stomach rumbled loudly, a reminder that she hadn’t eaten anything except that shared plate with Vivek the night before and she followed the savory smells wafting down the hall to a room she could only assume was the dining area. The long room was empty of tables and chairs; instead rows of women - there didn’t seem to be any men - dressed much the same as her were sitting cross legged on the floor enjoying their repast with vigor and a soft buzzing of feminine gossip. It was easy enough for her to blend in and she was given a plate of food that she accepted from a young girl and sat down at one end of the line to eat.
On the other side of the building, Vivek’s night and subsequent morning were not going quite as well. Last night he had learned a great many troubling things that caused him guilt and anger in equal measure. He had been escorted to see the Prioress of this place, the Ambika Temple where generations of women had been raised and trained to fight the demons and devils that escaped their own hellish realms. However, this had not been the most troubling part, and lying in his cold bed, Vivek relived those moments and cringed inwardly at the thought of Simryn’s reaction when she discovered… or was told of her own connection to this place:
“It has been many years since a man has entered these walls. Such a thing would not have happened in my mother’s time, but alas the world has been much changed that even we must make allowances.”
“Forgive me,” Vivek bowed his head uncertainly in obeisance for the voice was neither condemning nor comforting. “I was given a message that I was to come here, and bring the Kshatrani, but I do not understa-”
“Let understanding be left to those whose power is greater than ours, ours is simply to obey their will and you have done so,” the voice said firmly but not unkindly. “The night is late and so you may rest here the night, but tomorrow you must leave. I cannot allow your presence here to disrupt the preparations already being made.”
“Leave? But Simryn is to learn something here and one night will not be enough,” he said calmly to the faceless woman in the shadows, but he dreaded the next words as much as if he knew exactly she would say.
“The Kshatrani will not be leaving with you. She will learn all she needs to here just as she has before.”
“Before? What mean you before? She has never been to this place, this temple would not have stood the last time she walked the Earth,” Vivek continued frantically. On one hand her words did not seem possible, perhaps a slip of the tongue? But she said them with such hard certainty that doubts arose in him mind, questioning the things he had learned to be true.
“Is it possible that you have not been told?” the Prioress spoke, finally with a hint of surprise that made her suddenly more human and Vivek straightened, his anger returning and he demanded, “Been told what?!”
There was a soft sigh and the rustling of cloth, then the whisper of sandals on the stone floor. From the shadows emerged an old, wrinkled woman and Vivek forced himself not to step back. She seemed like a ghost, with silver-white hair and a white saari that covered her from head to foot. Every innumerable line wrought in her brown-skinned face told its own story, not all of them happy. “Follow me.”
He was lead to a room that seemed to be in the heart of the temple. It was meticulously clean and brightly lit, yet there seemed to be the scent of age in the air stirring between rows and rows of books and scrolls lining the shelves that themselves lined every surface of the chamber walls. Some of the parchments had been spread in glass cases and Vivek was afraid to approach too closely for it seemed as if they were held together by the filaments of time and any movement on his part would send them crumbling to dust.
When he looked up, the Prioress had an amused expression on her face. “Impressive, is it not? My reaction was quite similar when I first beheld this place. You should be honored for not all are allowed here where we keep our most ancient words.” Not understanding what this was leading up to, Vivek could only nod and watch as the old woman climbed a step ladder with surprising agility and withdrew an old book bound in orange strips of cloth. “Look inside and everything will be explained to you.”
Drawing a deep breath, Vivek untied the strings and opened the beaten wooden cover and began to read the unfamiliar handwriting, his eyes running carefully over the traditional flowing script. It was hours later and the last of the oil lamps were guttering out, the Prioress had long since left and Vivek knew it must be morning even though no sun could reach this room in the center of everything. Rubbing his eyes wearily with his fingers, he closed the book with studied care, wishing he could erase the words from his memory.
“Have you learned what you must?” the aged voice, now familiar, said from behind him and Vivek nodded in silence, his head bowed with weariness. “Come, it is daylight and you have still not sought your bed.”
Vivek felt her small hands, the skin wrinkled and papery, take the book from his hands. With eyes closed, he listened the soft fumbling noises that indicated she was returning the book to its place on the shelves and then her hand was softly patting his shoulder, awkwardly, but definitely in a sign of comfort and it lent him strength enough to stand and follow her to the small room where he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and unable to find respite in sleep.
The door creaked open and after a brief washing in cold water that possibly left him more tired than before, Vivek followed a silent, stony-faced woman to a long empty chamber where the remnants of a meal were obviously being cleaned up. He was given a portion of breakfast that he took gladly, but although the food was appetizing he ate mechanically without tasting, his mind still a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
After his meal he was led again to the same door, but this time when he entered it was without unease and the Prioress’ chamber was bathed with soft light in every corner, banishing any thoughts that he had been threatened the night before.
“What will happen to her now?” he asked the Prioress softly and the old woman motioned for him to have a seat that he gladly accepted. Taking his hand in hers, her bony fingers traced the lines of his palm and for a few moments they sat in silence. Who knew what fate she could foresee in the lines of his hand, whereas he, who had never known a mother’s touch, took comfort in the grace of this gentle old woman.
“She must return to India, she is to be wed,” she said finally, and Vivek jerked back, his hand flying out of her grasp as his eyes widened in disbelief. He opened and closed his mouth noiselessly, like a fish out of water, gasping for the right words but before he could find them the Prioress spoke again. “It is the will of her Mothers, would you gainsay them?” she asked with considering brown eyes leveled at his own and he knew that the argument was lost before he had even uttered a word. No, he could not go against the will of Simryn’s mother, especially the Great Triple Goddess who ruled in the Heavens.
Vivek cleared his throat with effort, “Might I be here, when you tell her?” he asked and she could hear his concern in the soft timbre of his voice. Perhaps it moved her away from another decision and she nodded in the affirmative. Calling through the door, she sent for Simryn to be brought to her and the two waited for the Goddess’ Daughter to come to them.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
***** 2:39p.m. Wednesday, June 13th 2007 *****
Her heart was beating wildly, and her face was flushed and glowing with a mixture of excitement and adrenaline as Simryn followed another young woman down the otherwise empty hallway. The woman grinned at her; the Kshatrani’s excitement was obviously contagious and they hurried their steps, alternately loping and skipping toward the Prioress’ office.
“Good luck,” the girl said conspiratorially at the door at the end of the hall before dashing off back outside. Simryn nodded and stood a moment to catch her breath — it had been a while since she had exerted herself physically. In that instant the image of her fight with the shadow demons came to mind. Nikolai had fought by her side then. And later they had done much more together, something that had left her just as breathless… Simryn gasped at the vividness of that once in a lifetime memory.
“Come in,” an unfamiliar female voice said from beyond the tall oak door and Simryn shook her head to clear the wisps of the vision of two sinuous bodies entwined. The door opened soundlessly at her touch into an airily sunlit room. Seated at a broad desk was an old woman who stared back at her expressionlessly. Perplexed, the Kshatrani’s glance flew to her guardian who sat on the bed, his posture rigid and a hard expression deepening the lines on his face, but he would not meet her eyes.
“There is something you wish to tell me,” Simryn said smoothly, neither the inflection nor the timbre of her voice betraying her confusion. The old woman rose and walked around her desk to peer up at the Kshatrani. Simryn thought she could see recognition in those eyes though it was impossible for they had never met and even the daughter of Goddesses would have remembered the aura of quiet wisdom that surrounded this old woman.
“Sit down, Lady,” the Prioress said, motioning to a brocade-covered seat, but something about the way she had observed her made Simryn wary.
“I will stand,” she replied firmly, crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant stance.
“As you wish,” the woman continued, unprovoked, and Simryn felt a stab of guilt at her ungracious response. With a slim yet ornate brass key hanging from her neck, the elder woman removed a small, carved mahogany chest from the desk-safe and placed it carefully on the desk, gazing at it for a silent moment before pushing it toward Simryn.
“What?” the Kshatrani said, her brows furrowing in mystification and despite wanting to stay aloof, she stepped close enough to detect the intricate carvings on the wood. Just like the carvings on the walls, the pictures on the wood told a story and Simryn stared wide eyed, simultaneously drawn and repelled by the female form on the box that was obviously herself. She reached toward it, her fingers trembling slightly, and could feel a living heat radiating from the box itself — or whatever was inside it — and abruptly withdrew.
A cold sweat had formed on her skin, beading her forehead and causing a shiver down her spine. “I won’t open it!” she said forcefully, wondering at her own unreasonableness because no one had said anything about her opening the box. She looked to Vivek but his eyes had become more shuttered, if that were possible. Her fists clenched by her side, Simryn’s eyes blazed, daring the Prioress to say something, but her gaze was as impassive as well and despite her own fear, Simryn knew that this was something she needed to know.
The lid opened easily; though old it had obviously been well cared for, or maybe something else had preserved it from the test of time. The inside of the box was a surprise, the wood undecorated and jaggedly splintered in some places; it was a vivid contrast to the external beauty. On the bottom was a small faceted ruby no bigger than her palm. A hairline fracture ran through the surface and in the heart of the gem a cloud that marred its clarity.
Simryn laughed. The harsh sound pealed out in a brittle cacophony and Vivek started, his body poised for flight. But then the old woman held up her hand, a sigh to wait and watch, and he sat down again frustrated but watchful as Simryn’s laughter ran down and she gasped for breath.
“I don’t remember it being quite so… broken” she finally whispered. Vivek’s heart stilled in his chest, his eyes widening as the Kshatrani cradled the blood-red jewel to her bosom. It glittered for a moment in the space between her palms and then merged slowly into her skin, disappearing like a stone into water without a ripple.
She felt as if her head had exploded in a brilliant flash of light and faintly she heard Vivek’s harsh oath and felt her legs give way beneath her. Then the sharp coppery scent of blood and the heat of midday sun, sweat running in little rivers down her body to mix with blood and dirt. The lunge of her sword and the sharp jerk as the blade met with flesh and a voice shouting orders to kill… She realized it was hers. Another flash, another scene in which she played a vital part, her body moving and her voice speaking while her mind wondered, “What is this?” and then closer and closer to the moment she feared, the events building up to the secret hidden away inside the jewel. Of a love lost not once, but time and time again.
Hot tears seeped from her closed eyes, running down her face to dampen the pillow under her head. She gasped and felt as if she were breathing fire, the very air seared her lungs as she choked on her tears. Soft hands were moving over her forehead, but Simryn could not open her eyes to see whose they were.
“Sleep,” said the comfortingly familiar voice. It echoed in the dimness of her mind as she drifted into a guarded sleep.
***** 7:48a.m. Thursday, June 14th 2007 *****
“Did you know?”
The whispered question roused Vivek from his restless sleep and with a groan he rubbed his back where the chair arm had dug into his spine. It was Simryn who had asked the question. She was in bed, her body still as she stared blankly up at the ceiling. He had never heard that tone in her voice before and it made him wary as to what answer was required of him, but as if she had read his thoughts: “Just the truth,” she said, turning her blank green eyes toward him and he nodded guiltily.
She sighed, rising enough to sit at the edge of the bed and her long black hair tumbled in disarray past her shoulders. “How much do you know?” she asked, her voice steadying.
“Only that this is not the first time you’ve been awakened,” he replied in hushed tones as if speaking any louder would break her out of her suspended emotions. “You were needed, in different parts of the world, and so you woke to rid the world of whatever evil was required of you. And then they put you back to sleep, apparently removing all your memories of the event since you didn’t remember anything!” he said this last with some bitterness, because he had not known either.
“No, do not blame them,” she said. They both knew that the ‘them’ she referred to were her Mothers, but he could not hide his cynicism and a sad smile curved her lips. “I am the one who chose not to remember,” she explained, forestalling his outcry with a raised hand. “Yes, I did because I could not bear to remember all my years of failure. But you don’t know about that do you?” She motioned him near, and he came slowly to sit by her side, surprised when she drew closer and leaned her head against his shoulder in a heart sore weariness she had not let him see before.
“Did you never wonder why, in over a hundred years, would a single soul wait so long to be reborn?” she asked.
Vivek shrugged. “It is the will of the Gods.”
“Hmmm.” He heard amusement in her voice and bristled slightly. “However much the Gods like to play with mortal lives, the soul is not controlled by their whims. But the point is that the present incarnation of my love in Nikolai, is not the first time he has been reborn.”
Vivek stiffened again at their Russian neighbor’s name but didn’t pull away; he wanted to hear her story.
“The first time was only fifty or so years after his death, time enough for him to be reborn and grow back into the age at which I had known him. I found him with the help of your ancestor, my guardian at the time living on the plains among the mountains. He was a warrior in a horse tribe and we met and renewed our love. But they had trouble within those nomadic people; their children were disappearing and they blamed each other, fighting amongst themselves. That was the other reason I had been sent there. Vishnu had banished a group of demons to those mountains long ago but they did not learn their lesson and they thrived to make war amongst the groups of men. I, with a group of warriors, went to slay them. We were victorious but we had wounded as well. Among them was my lover. He died a few days later of a wound that would not heal, and I left soon after despite his family’s urges to stay with them.”
“But what happened to your memories of that time? Why didn’t you want to remember it before?” Vivek asked in confusion.
“Well, I had already lost him once before and I think I must have gone a little mad at that second loss. So before returning to my sleep I took a piece of my heart and hid inside it all the memories of that awakening but retained everything else and hid it inside a box that only I would be able to open when the time came.”
“And then? Did your plan work?”
“No, because I was awoken again and again and again. Each time to fight off another evil, to find my love only to watch him die… and in my weakness I hid all these memories inside that piece of my heart. I might have learned from all those failed lives if I had remembered them, but I chose not to because my hurt was too great. But now hundreds of years have passed and I have regained those memories and I know- I know I cannot continue with this cycle of sleep and pain. The last time was in this very country, and it was the bitterest of all. Before I left the foundation for this temple had been laid, and I vowed to never return here — although I didn’t remember that promise, did I?” she said self-deprecatingly.
“What will you do?” he asked, ignoring her noiseless tears that were dampening his shirt.
“Return to my land, perhaps, or maybe travel now that I am free of that weary search. Maybe I should do what I was made to do and fight the darkness, or maybe just…” She became silent and Vivek didn’t dare speak because if he did he knew he would spew out the secret churning inside him, the words that the Prioress had spoken about the Goddess’ intent for her daughter’s life. “It is for the best. I am surrounded by death and time and again it has taken the life of the one I loved best. If I leave, perhaps Nikolai will have a chance to actually live.”
Vivek’s eyes narrowed cynically. As much as Simryn loved Nikolai, he didn’t think that good-for-nothing man’s life style would take him that much further.
“Yes, I think we should return to India,” she said now more firmly. “I need to find out why. Why my Mothers betrayed me with their spell.” She lifted her head and looked at him with fiery green eyes, “Will you be by my side?” she asked, clasping his hands in a vise-like grip and while Vivek was troubled by the fervency in her voice he could deny her nothing.
“Yes.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Sunday, 17th June 2007 – 11:58pm
Kate and Galen’s House
“Go on, get out of here!” whispered Galen angrily as he shooed Tolstoy down the corridor after almost falling over him in the dark. Kate had only brought the cat over yesterday afternoon and already it was causing a nuisance. “Thanks a lot Nikolai,” he mumbled as he pushed open the bedroom door. Why he couldn’t have just put the blasted animal in a shelter like a normal person was a mystery.
The lamp on the nightstand shed a soft glow throughout the room, providing the only source of light as Galen stumbled inside, closing the door behind him.
“That damn cat,” he grumbled, smiling at Kate as she acknowledged his complaint with a half-hearted smile and a nod of her head. She was already in bed, the blankets folded neatly over her lap as she waited for Galen to join her.
“I swear, he waits until I’m near before he starts wandering around, just to get under my feet. He never does it to you, just me, it’s like a goddamn conspiracy.”
“Galen, the cat isn’t conspiring against you,” said Kate with a tired sigh as she shuffled down into bed, making herself comfortable. “Just like the paper boy isn’t plotting the downfall of civilisation when he tosses the newspaper into next door’s garden by mistake, and the electricity company isn’t in league with secret terrorist organisations when the power gets cut in the middle of Quincy.”
Pulling off the remainder of his clothes, Galen climbed under the blankets, switching off the lamp before snuggling up close to Kate. “Yeah, but you have to admit,” he said with a slight grin, “it always happens just when Quincy’s about to explain his theory. Coincidence? I think not.”
Kate smiled, rolling over in bed to face her husband. She gazed at him lovingly, raising her hand up to his face and stroking his cheek gently. “I appreciate you airing your neurosis for my benefit but it’s not necessary.”
Galen took Kate’s hand in his own, bringing it to his lips and laying a loving kiss on the back before holding it close under his chin. “Now who’s acting paranoid?”
“Oh come on,” Kate objected, a slight hint of weary regret in her voice. “You haven’t said two words about what happened here tonight. My spell backfired, I nearly got you and Daye and myself killed. At the very least you’re entitled to say ‘I told you so’. You were right from the start,” she admitted quietly, averting her eyes in shame.
“You told me this spell was a bad idea, you told me it wasn’t the way to deal with things and… well, I didn’t listen to you and all this happened. I was just so wrapped up in my own hurt. I was being selfish and arrogant, thinking I knew better, but I should have listened to you.” Kate looked up, contrition burning in her dark blue eyes as she returned Galen’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” said Galen softly, seeing the watery tears building up in Kate’s eyes as she spoke, “you don’t have anything to apologise for. You had no way of knowing that your spell would turn out like this. You just wanted everything to go back to the way it was, for everyone to be able to move on. I can’t blame you for that.”
Kate nodded slowly in reluctant acceptance. “I guess so,” she said quietly.
“Well I know so,” Galen said firmly, wrapping his arms low around Kate’s waist and pulling her close. “The spell might have gone wrong, but you did it for all the right reasons. You were just… a little too impulsive.”
“I should have thought it through more,” said Kate sadly, a lone tear rolling over her cheek and onto the pillow. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, sighing remorsefully. “I could have gotten you killed, you and Daye. I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to either of you.”
“But nothing did happen,” insisted Galen, wiping the dampness from under Kate’s eyes with the edge of his thumb. “A few bruises, scratches, nothing lasting. You helped to heal Daye, she’s gonna be fine and you never know, maybe something good can come out of this after all.”
Kate frowned, looking up at Galen confusedly. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” said Galen thoughtfully, “before all this you and Daye were barely talking. But tonight the two of you seemed to really make some progress and that was what you wanted after all, a chance to move on. You confronted your anger, your resentments, and you conquered them. It’s all very symbolic if you think about it,” he added with a grin.
Kate laughed a little, shuffling up closer to Galen and burying her head against his chest. “So what happens now?”
“Now?” Galen echoed quietly, wrapping his arms around Kate, one hand stroking her lower back soothingly. “Well, I guess we just see what tomorrow brings. It’s all any of us can do, really. We just take one day at a time and see what happens.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 25th
11:11 PM,
LA
“H-Hayden?” Kyle stuttered, still not quite believing what his eyes were seeing. “Is that-?”
Hayden cut him off. “I mean, just look at me. There’s the whole arm thing, an’ not to mention me throat. That just looks nasty, man.” He bent down to peer for a closer inspection. “And, lemme tell ya bro, it real hurt at the time. Well, not that it hurt for long.” Turning back to look at Kyle, he flashed a toothy grin.
“Hayden, but, but you’re…dead…?” Kyle wasn’t sure if this was correct or not. He was staring at Hayden’s body, yet here was Hayden talking to him.
“Yeah, about that, bro. It’s real interestin’.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Y’see, it’s like this. I’m not actually here. I’m dead.”
Realisation dawned on Kyle. “You’re an hallucination.” He’d had these before – not in a while, sure, but he knew how to deal with them. Walk away. Turning his back on Hayden and his body; he did just that.
“Wellllll,” Hayden began. “Not exactly. It’s a little more complicated than that. Actually, I can’t explain it real well ’cos, well, it’s real complicated, and I don’t understand it, so you’ve got not much chance, dude.”
*Just keep walking. It’ll go away, eventually.* “Just shut up.” Kyle said, still walking through the bloody remains of the gang. “I know how to deal with hallucinations.”
Hayden suddenly appeared in front of him, a pained expression on his face. “I’m hurt, bro. First ya leave me to die, then ya steal my coat, then ya call me a hallucination. That just- that just sucks.”
Holding both hands up, Kyle backed away. “You’re not here. You’re not real. I’m not talking to you.”
“Right, right, wrong. I’m not here, not exactly, I’m not real, not exactly, but, yeah, ya talkin’ to me.”
“I can’t deal with this again. Just- just go away.” He waved at Hayden - no, the Hayden hallucination - half-heartedly, turning away with his head in his other hand.
Hayden bit his lip. “Sorry, bro, no can do.” He shrugged. “I’m gonna be with ya for a while. Ya can’t run from me.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Yeah, but do any of them offer an explanation?” Hayden countered. And he was right. No hallucinations he had previously experienced had offered an explanation. Or, for that matter, even confessed they were hallucinations. What could it hurt? Maybe it would make him go away.
Kyle waved his hand. “Be my guest.”
“Okay. Ya gotta bear with me a bit.” He took a dramatic pause. “Ya messed up, dude. Big time.”
“Some explanation this is turning out to be.”
Hayden held up a hand. “Wait, there’s more. Okay, the emotional stress at seein’ someone dead who trusted ya and who ya could have saved, instead causin’ their death, has triggered a subconscious reflex in ya psyche that has created a visual manifestation of ya conscience, in a guise chosen by your subconscious for reasons that are even beyond me, complete with memories and independent personality.” Finished, and quite satisfied with his explanation, Hayden beamed at him.
Kyle stared blankly back, eyebrows raised. There were more technical words strung together in that sentence than he thought Hayden knew, let alone had said before. But that wasn’t what had him making a face. It was way over his head.
Hayden shrugged. “Hey, bro. I did say I didn’t really understand it myself, an’ ya probably wouldn’t, but ya did insist.”
Kyle rubbed his head. He could feel a headache coming on. “Wait, you’re my conscience?”
“That’s right,” Hayden replied, nodding vigorously. “Ya need direction, man. Ya need help.”
“I don’t need help. And not from an hallucination.” His response was firm.
Sighing, Hayden rubbed his own head. “No, ya not listen’. I ain’t no hallucination. Ya must be really fucked up in the head, man, ’cos, I’m thinkin’ for meself. I got me own personality and shit. I’m just not, ya know, alive.”
“Great. My own personal ghost. Just what I need.” The tone of Kyle’s voice made it clear it really wasn’t.
“Naw, I ain’t no ghost, either. I’m somethin’ else altogether.” Hayden paused in thought. “Ya really fucked up.”
Kyle cocked his head at an angle and made a sour face. “Thanks. That really makes me feel better.”
That toothy grin again. “Here to help.”
“Just what are you here to help me with?” Kyle asked, sighing. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, talking to an hallucination, but he had never had an hallucination quite like this before. “I told you, I don’t need any help.”
“That’s where ya wrong, man. Did ya feel a shred of remorse, just a little bit ’o guilt at seein’ a brother dead?”
Kyle opened his mouth to answer, but no words were forthcoming. What did he feel about Hayden dying? Did he feel anything?
“No. Ya felt relieved. Freed,” Hayden answered for him. “I was one more thing tying ya to ya conscience, to ya humanity. And now that I’m dead, ya no longer have ta deal with little old me trying to bring out the good in you.”
Kyle was left speechless. Hayden’s words were too close to the truth, even though he didn’t admit it to himself.
“Ya’ve been burning up, man. No pun intended,” Hayden quickly added, “And sooner or later ya gonna crash. The fighting, the sex, the alcohol. It’s been destroying ya, and you’ve let it ’cos ya want to destroy yourself. Let me tell ya, you’ve been doing a fine job of it, too. I’m ya own last attempt to stop yourself before it’s too late. I’m here ta speak for ya conscience, yeah, that little voice you’ve been slowly silencing all these years, fighting to keep buried. Well, know it’s fighting back.”
Kyle was still speechless. This was… he just couldn’t find the words for it, couldn’t describe it. What Hayden was telling him, well it wasn’t Hayden exactly, but it was just easier thinking of it that way, was… it was…
It was true.
Every single word of it.
He was crashing and burning, caught in a downward spiral - had been for years - and if he didn’t stop, didn’t put his hands out to stop himself, he’d never stop falling, and who knew what depths he’d plummet to. He’d been driving himself to destruction, but what’s more, he hadn’t cared. Anything to take his mind off how bad his life was, how he hated everything about it-
That’s all Kyle allowed himself to think before he cut the thoughts off. Any more and he’d… he’d…
He’d start feeling again. Truly feeling. Start to care once more.
And that scared him. It had been so long since he cared he, so long since he had abandoned any concept of right and wrong, he couldn’t remember what it felt like. He didn’t even know if he wanted to remember what it felt like.
Hayden nodded as if he could read Kyle’s thoughts. Actually, he had said as much. “And that’s why I’m here, bro.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 21st, 2007
Poplar Avenue
As the various White Hats poured forth from the building out onto the front steps of 1318 Poplar Avenue, a lone figure stood on the opposite side of the street, waiting. Watching for one individual in particular.
Finally, the waiting was over. From behind a statuesque redhead, he stepped out into the California sun; for all the time that had passed, he was exactly as she remembered him.
Gliding across the hot pavement, she moved gracefully towards the group of heroes, at first unnoticed until her billowy turquoise skirt (or rather the lengthy, modelesque legs underneath) caught the eye of one of them.
“Whoa,” Tash mumbled as she stopped mid-sentence to stare at the beautiful blonde who was definitely headed their way. Quite apart from her stunning good looks, something seemed vaguely familiar about her. While the huntress searched through her memory, the others too were turning their attention to the new arrival. The witchs’ hairs stood on end, as waves of mystical energy rippled out from her into the air, and the psychics as well could feel the newcomer, the foreign presence registering quite differently than the others around.
The woman didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the attention she was receiving, smiling politely as she locked her eyes on the one she had ventured to see.
“Hello Darian.”
As if in unison, the group turned their collective gaze from the girl to the fae. A mixture of confusion, pain, anger and shock rolled off him as he stood, mouth ajar, staring back at a woman he thought he would never see again.
“Liala,” he replied utterly shocked, before immediately pushing through the others.
The woman smiled softly, her azure eyes betraying the inner turmoil in her soul. “It’s been a long time, love.”
“Eighty-seven years, actually,” Darian replied bitterly as he, to the surprise of the others, turned down the street and began to storm off without another word.
“Darian…! Darian,” she called out, tears beginning to well in her pretty eyes. “Darian, wait.” And, still totally oblivious to the group that stood watching the scene unfold, she took off after the fae.
“Liala, damn…” Tash muttered, then bit her lip but it was too late – those standing closest to her had heard and were already turning to her for an explanation. Memories she’d not thought of for a long time resurfaced from last January, when she and Darian had first realised they’d been played for fools by Loki and Deon. When she’d read Darian she’d picked up many snippets of his past, including a very powerful set of memories about this particular faery. The others continued to look at her expectantly. She had to say something, but she certainly didn’t want to divulge such an intimate part of Darian’s past.
“Uh, she’s someone he used to know – a long time ago.” Tash turned her gaze to the figures that had almost vanished down the street. “A long time ago…”
1830
Irish Countryside
A young, dishevelled man trudged through the thick brush of the Irish woods, his feet moving ever forward even though his head had no idea where he was going. In fact, it had been several years now since he had any idea where or what he was doing – not since he was cursed. Now, no city could offer refuge, no town respite, there was no escape from the darkness. No escape from himself.
Hours had passed since he first entered the forest, and now that it had started raining the visibility was even worse, preventing the man from brushing away sharp branches from his face. What did that matter though? Each cut and scrape would heal quickly thanks to the demon inside. Like some sick, ironic joke, his body would always mend and return to peak physical condition, whereas his spirit continued to whither and die at the end of each endless day.
He often prayed for the strength to end his own life, but the gods never granted him the conviction. As disgusted as he was with his existence, the man could never bring himself to do it. Was he too much of a coward, or was it the fact that, deep down, the man clung to the sliver of hope that things could get better, that he could find a cure not only for his condition, but for his friend’s? Either way, he continued forward.
For several more hours he wandered through the forest until finally, growing weak from thirst and hunger, he decided to find a stream or river. However, by now it was so dark and the rain was coming down so hard that it was difficult to make out anything. Cursing the heavens, he began to increase his pace until finally breaking out into a full run.
Branches and sticks slashed through his dirty body worse than ever, but he did not stop.
“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!”
Everything, the rain, the night, the cold, the hunger, the loneliness; it had got to him, and so he ran. He ran and ran and ran, hoping that he would find something, anything that could offer any minor comfort.
In that moment of hysteria his life changed forever.
As he moved inhumanly fast, the man had taken no notice of his surroundings, and as a result was unable to stop himself when, at the last minute, he realized he was headed straight for a major drop in the terrain. With great momentum the man flew off the cliff, slamming painfully into the ground, until his unconscious body rolled limply down and into the river below – at least he found the water.
As the shambled form was dragged downstream, an unnatural mist quickly gathered around the comatose body, mysteriously dragging it to shore.
Hours later
“Uhhhh…wha-?”
“Shhhhhh. Hush now human, you are safe.”
The man’s purple eyes fluttered open to behold a beauty not of this world. Long silvery-blonde hair cascaded perfectly across the woman’s striking blue eyes. Her thin, supple body glistened like the dew on morning grass, covered with only a few thin strips of azure silk.
“Who are you?”
“It does not matter, Darian. All that matters is that you are safe, and from now on things will be better for you,” she replied gently, stroking his long dark hair out of his eyes.
Struggling to sit up, the man was nothing if not confused. “You know who I am?”
“I do, and I’ve been waiting for you.”
“How could you wait for someone you’ve never met? I don’t understand.”
The mysterious woman smiled playfully. “But we have met – in my dreams. I’ve known this moment was coming, just like I know what is to come for us, my love. It’s just a matter of time catching up.”
“My love? Wha-? No, stop this. You’re making no sense!”
Slowly bending down, her sweet lips pushed against his briefly before she drew back and gazed into his eyes. “I know you feel it. Even if you’re not a pure blood, our kind’s senses reach beyond the confines of mortal understanding.”
“Our kind?” he reiterated, puzzled for a moment, until the realization dawned on him.
Silently, the woman nodded knowing that Darian was finally beginning to grasp what was going on. “I’ll be waiting for you in England,” she smiled before suddenly turning to leave.
“Wait, but I still don’t know what’s going on,” he called out uselessly.
“Or- or who you are!” still she didn’t turn around.
“This is crazy, why would I…? H-”
Glancing back, the mysterious woman winked. “You’ll know how to find me,” she replied to the question before he even asked it. And so, not having any other purpose or direction, Darian set out to find his mystery saviour. It took him several months to track her down in England, until he finally stumbled upon her in a quiet grove in the English countryside.
The second time was quicker, as he followed her trail to Vienna, and then Germany, and Romania. Each time they united, he would discover more about her, and each time he grew more and more intrigued.
The game of cat and mouse continued across Europe for several years until finally the game ended.
Scotland
1839
“I know you’re here Liala, I can feel it in the air,” Darian called out, a large smile plastered across his face as he stepped shin deep into the waters of the cool lake.
Mist quietly gathered behind him, before growing into the form of the woman.
“Your senses have developed so much, my love. You grow more in touch with your fae powers each day,” she replied before moving her body close to his. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered sensually, fiercely kissing his soft lips.
“Then why do you always leave me? If you stay, we can be together,” he replied quickly, not wanting to take his mouth from hers.
The two moved from the waters to solid ground, where they playfully stumbled into a clear patch of grass where, mischievously, Liala jumped onto Darian. Allowing himself to fall to the ground, his smile only grew as the two began removing each other’s clothing.
“Tell me why I should stay,” she asked, as she pulled the man’s shirt over his head, and carnally ran her hands across his muscled torso.
“Because I love you.”
The next morning
The warm sun cascaded down on his naked body, pushing through his eyelids and forcing him to wake from a pleasant dream. As the man opened his eyes and finally came to full conciousness, he was startled by a sudden revelation. For the first time after one of their rendezvous, Liala’s beautiful form lay asleep in his powerful, protective arms – she had stayed.
Introducing Estella Warren as Liala
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
“Darian… Darian........ Darian, please wait!” Liala called, her long, slender legs moving quickly to catch up to the fuming man who was now halfway down the street. Urging herself faster, the fae finally reached arm’s length of her target. “Darian, stop. P-p-p-please stop,” she whimpered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.
At last he did stop and turned slowly so Liala could see the fury in his eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare cry,” Darian hissed, his voice barely rising above a whisper. “You don’t have the right to cry.”
“Bu-b-but, Darian you have to listen to-”
“NO! I don’t have to do anything for you! My god,” he growled disgustedly, growing exponentially madder as Liala’s tears continued to flow freely, “You sure have some nerve showing up here after the way you left!”
Greece
July 19th
1920
A slight shiver ran through Darian’s body as the tide finally reached his outstretched legs, gently bathing the ends of his toes in water. It had been two months since he and Liala had arrived in the ancient land, but each morning, waking to the sound and scents of the ocean, it was magnificent. And not only was the climate and landscape picturesque, but Darian was lucky enough to wake up each morning to the woman he loved more than life itself; the woman who, after 81 years still made his heart flutter every time he looked into her eyes; the women he would love till his dying breath.
“Liala?”
In a split second, the man’s indigo eyes shot open as his body simultaneously bolted upright. “Liala? Liala?”
It was not the first time Darian woke to find Liala gone, but this time, something was different. There were no footsteps in the sand, no note saying where she was, or where to meet her.
Fear began to creep into the man’s heart as he frantically searched the area for some clue, anything that would point him in the direction of his missing lover. “Liala! Liala!”
Nothing.
As Darian crumbled to his knees, he could hear Liala’s voice echoing in his memory. “I know you feel it. Even if you’re not a pure blood, our kind’s senses reach beyond the confines of mortal understanding.”
It was at that moment he knew.
Liala was gone.
“I spent years looking; hoping, praying to see you again,” Darian said turning his gaze, ironically, unable to stand the sight of her. “But you never came back. After 81 years, after everything we had gone through, all the love we shared - I wasn’t even worth a goodbye.”
“No, Darian. It wasn’t like that. I did love you. I loved you so much, but I had-”
“It’s too late Liala,” Darian cut her off, as he began walking back in the direction of Poplar. There was a time he would have given anything for this moment, but the sun had set on those days long ago. He had closed off that section of his heart and there was no way he was going to allow her to open the lid on the pain he spent so long fighting.
“You’re in danger. You have to listen to me. Darian, wait. Wait.” Her words fell on deaf ears however, as the man ignored her frantic pleas.
Darian was gone.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 21st
The Big House
late afternoon
...... Cambia, todo cambia
"It seems you are happy today."Cambia, todo cambia
Cambia el sol en su carrera
Cuando la noche subsiste
Cambia la planta y se viste
De verde la primavera
Cambia el pelaje la fiera
Cambia el cabello el anciano
Y así como todo cambia
Que yo cambie no es extraño
Pero no cambia mi amor
(1)Por mas lejos que me encuentre
Ni el recuerdo ni el dolor
De mi pueblo y de mi gente
Y lo que cambió ayer
Tendrá que cambiar mañana
Así como cambio yo
En esta tierra lejana.
Ellis' amused voice interrupted Alessa's song as she entered the cool ambience of her living room. Surprised, she clutched the wide-brimmed hat she was holding in her hands to her chest, wrinkling the soft straw in the process.
"Ellis! Don’t you dare scare me like that!" she exclaimed, trying to smoothe the wrinkles to no avail. "Look what you've done!" She tried to sound plaintive but failed too. She was feeling too well to be credible, ruined hat or not.
"Sorry," he said, as he supplely stood up and walked to her side. Looking into her eyes, he took the hat from her hands and expertly restored it to its original form. "My mother used to wear these things, and I to sit on them all the time. Got to develop a strategy for when it happened."
"Good, a man of many talents." Alessa smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. "And here I thought you were good just for fighting demon hunters."
"Don’t play with fire, lady, or you'll get burnt," Ellis said as he looked into her smiling eyes and shortened the distance between them. Something must have happened to put her in such a good mood, and he wasn’t a man who'd refuse a gift like that. Alessa just chuckled and rolled her eyes, but she didn’t move back. Ellis leaned closer to her and smiled. "By the way, if what I think is of any importance to you at all, you look mind-numbingly gorgeous today." His breath was warm against her cheek and she smiled despite herself.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, Ellis Longwood."
"You sure about that?" He smiled at her and she shook her head. Her outfit was dark green, a colour she usually favoured, probably because she knew it complimented her eyes beautifully. Her eyes twinkled in merriment and his breath caught slightly. "And here I thought you were the kind of woman who could tell flattery from fact."
"Bien dicho, Mr. Longwood, well said," she replied, but she moved a step away, suddenly unsure. She gave him a small smile. "So what are you doing here?" she asked, to cover her nervousness.
Ellis felt the exact moment her merry joyfulness turned jittery, but he wouldn’t let go so easily. "I just wanted to see you; have something to tell you. But first tell me what had you so happy," he said, taking her hand and leading her to one of the sofas in the big room. As he had expected, the big smile she had entered the house with returned to her face.
"I have something to tell you as well. Good news too, por suerte," she said, as she started to take off the light jacket she had over her dress. "But I don’t want to talk here. It was a beautiful day, bet the sunset will be awesome."
She was already walking towards the big French windows that led to the balcony and the beach ahead, leaving shoes and jacket in her wake. Ellis shook his head and just followed her, amused at her effervescence. He took off his shoes and jacket too, when he saw her heading for the beach, and he congratulated himself for not having worn a suit.
The sky had started to darken into a vibrant red-orange colour over the hills, and to a soft pinkish blue on the ocean; the water was a deep blue. Ellis looked ahead and felt a pang of sorrow at his parents not being able to enjoy such a place anymore. Then he looked at the form of Alessa, sitting cross-legged near the ocean's edge and playing with the dry sand and he reassured himself that the place was just what his love needed. Ernie had never had a better idea than leaving it to her.
"So, are you going to tell me or not?" he asked again, as he sat beside her, his elbows resting on his folded knees. "I gather the White Hat meeting was good?"
"You are too perceptive for your own good, you know that?" she said, looking at him with narrow eyes. She had forgotten how much he seemed to know her.
He smirked. "Just with you, Alessandra Hunt. It's not my fault you're like an open book sometimes."
"Humph!" she snorted, and with a swift flip of her wrist she threw him a handful of sand.
"Hey! Behave yourself, lady!"
"I was just trying to hinder your sight," she laughed, ready to jump if he showed any sings of wanting retaliation. But he just slapped his jeans and looked expectantly at her. He wanted to hear what she had to say about the meeting.
"Spoilsport," she said, but her mouth curved in a big smile when she thought about the meeting. “It’s just that the meeting was fine, like in the old times. It may be just me, but I’m finally seeing some future for the White Hats.
“We discussed the integration of new members, too. People who have helped us through this problem with the Council…” She looked sideways at his profile, he was looking ahead, squinting his eyes slightly against the soft breeze that was rising from the ocean. “They thought you might be interested.”
Ellis was silent for a while, his only movement were his fingers running the dry sand from hand to hand. “They thought?” he asked at last, still not looking at her.
Alessa chewed on her lip, furious at herself for that little slip of the tongue. She didn’t know if she could explain how she had felt about his invitation to the White Hats. Elated, afraid, concerned? Certainly she didn’t want to imply not wanting him into the group. She thought how to phrase her thoughts so they became clear to him.
“The White Hats would benefit with a person like you in their midst, it’d be great to have you in the group, Ellis.”
“But?”
“But I know you have your own organization, that’s what I told them. Of course, we are asking anyway, and I’d love you to say yes, but maybe we could find some solution in the middle.”
“You are right, of course. I couldn’t leave the DP, least of all now that we need some serious reorganization after the casualties we suffered.” He turned to her and she saw the sorrow that always surfaced when he spoke about his people. “Please tell your friends that I’m honoured with the offer, but I can’t accept it. That doesn’t mean you can’t ask for any assistance if need be. The DP would be happy to help. Any time.”
Alessa beamed at him and her hand found his in the sand. “Same thing here,” she said, knowing that the White Hats wouldn’t deny their help either.
“That means you’re ready to help me now?” He looked from their entwined hands to her eyes, and she wondered again at the way he could convey so many emotions with nothing but a look. Right now his eyes twinkled with humour, a big contrast to the ice blue he had just a minute before.
“I don’t know, depends of what kind of ‘help’ you are thinking about…” She felt the heat creeping into her neck, then into her face, but still didn't look up.
He froze momentarily, feeling that burning sensation start up in the pit of his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to kiss her and see if she would return the kiss as she had the last time, but he didn't. “Oh, nothing much. Maybe lunch tomorrow? I don’t want you to disappear for days without end again.”
“A couple of days isn’t that much time!” She laughed at him as she watched him lie back on the sand and stretch, looking uncannily like a blue-eyed cat. “And I have plans for tomorrow.”
“I see,” he sighed, with mock frustration. “Maybe I should ask some other beautiful demoness out. I may get luckier.”
“Oh, you!” Alessa exclaimed, punching him in the side, and then shrieked as he grabbed her around the waist, pinning her below him.
“I won’t let go till you promise me lunch tomorrow,” he warned, setting his leg over hers to immobilize her even better. They both knew that she could disentangle herself easily enough, but neither stopped the charade. Alessa’s breath quickened at his familiar weight, and her eyes softened.
“I’m seeing Daye tomorrow morning, but we could meet afterwards, if you insist.”
“Oh, I insist,” he said softly.
A tiny tremor of excitement went through her again; his voice was low and sultry, and his eyes intent. He made her feel as though he could see straight into her and see her thoughts, which wasn’t that far from the truth. She remembered his assurance about her feelings for him, and she wondered for the hundredth time if he wasn’t right. Slowly, he reached out and caressed her cheek, tracing her mouth gently with his thumb. Her smile faded and her pulse raced.
He stroked her cheek for another long moment as she held her breath, waiting for something to happen. He pulled his hand away and his eyes shone with laughter again. The moment had passed and she struggled to force her breathing back into a normal rhythm, flooded with a mixture of relief and disappointment.
"Okay, I'm going now. I have a meeting with Mike, so don't try and stop me." He didn't move and Alessa smiled up at him. "Stop trying to convince me, Alessa, I'm going and you can't change that by fluttering your eyelashes at me."
She was really laughing now and he looked down at her and he smiled too. Ellis leaned down and kissed her lips gently, his grip on her softened and he was about to get up when she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," she said huskily. Two could play that game.
Ellis nodded and swallowed hard, feeling it difficult to stop touching her. Her smile was intoxicating, and she felt wonderfully pliant in his arms. But if she was starting to allow herself to love him, which he was sure she was, then he was going to make damn sure that he didn't rush things and screw it up. He'd never wanted anything more in his entire life than he wanted her to be his.
He managed to disentangle himself from her, although he didn't quite know how, and started walking towards the house. At the top of the stairs he turned and waved before disappearing inside.
Alessa stayed on the beach, her legs folded against her chest, her arms wrapped around them while she rested her chin on her knees. The afternoon grew chilly but she didn’t feel the cold. She was warm inside and she couldn’t erase her smile from her face. Softly she started to sing again.
Change, everything changes Change, everything changes
(1) “Todo cambia” (Everything Changes) by Mercedes Sosa - Unfortunately it loses much in translation, but I have the mp3 file if you want an excellent piece of Argentinean folklore music. [/][/]The sun changes its course
When the night goes on
The plant changes and dresses
The springtime in green
The animal changes its coat
The old one's hair changes
And thus since everything changes
It's not strange that I change too.
But my love does not change
No matter how far I am
Neither does the memory nor the pain
Of my country or of my people
And what changed yesterday
Will have to change tomorrow
Just like I am changing
In this land so foreign.
Meet Marianne
Wednesday, 20th June 2007 – 10:34am
Bonne Santé, Pasadena
Introducing Alex Kingston as Marianne Starshine
Balancing a cup of herbal tea in one hand and a stack of mail in the other, Kate sank down onto the sofa, unloading her burden upon the polished coffee table amongst a stack of up-to-date fashion and home magazines.
It had been a hectic morning, what with suppliers and various other tradesmen dropping by. But slowly, things were beginning to come together and about time too with the ‘grand opening’ set for that Saturday. Taking out a notepad Kate looked through the list of things that still needed to be done before the weekend, putting a tick next to those that had already been completed. There really wasn’t much left to finish, just a little cleaning, some unpacking and generally just getting things ready for the opening.
Turning over a clean page, Kate picked up a pencil and stared thoughtfully at the blank paper before drawing a small sketch. Sipping at her tea, she continued to work on her design until she heard the shop bell ring above the door.
Looking up, Kate smiled brightly at the woman who walked inside, her long, floaty coat skirting across the floor and several brightly coloured scarves ruffled up around her neck giving her the appearance of some crazed parakeet. She swept into the room before slumping into one of the leather armchairs next to Kate with a sigh, her wild curly hair framing her oval face which glowed with an early summer tan.
Marianne Starshine, not her real name of course but that which she called herself by her Craft, had been Kate’s friend since they’d met on a cultural exchange programme in Italy when she was seventeen. The two of them had been reunited at the Winter Solstice last year where they had discussed their plans for Bonne Santé. Marianne was already an established ‘healer’ in Los Angeles, with a client list that was growing beyond her capability to satisfy. So far she’d been operating a mobile business but had been looking for a permanent base for months. While Kate, on the other hand, had found the perfect premises but lacked a substantial client base. This partnership seemed to be the answer to both of their problems.
“Sorry I’m late,” Marianne apologised, dropping several items on the coffee table while she removed the scarves from her neck with a weary sigh. “I was halfway through showering when the water suddenly cut off. I’ve been on at that cheapskate of a landlord- PAH! More like a slumlord!” She exhaled deeply in annoyance.
Kate could barely hide her amused smile; over six years since they had last seen each other and Marianne hadn’t changed in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it, there were just a few orders to sign for that’s all. I thought I’d leave the unpacking until you got here,” she added with a wry smile.
“Ha! Of course!” laughed Marianne, “I’ve not forgotten your sly ways Ms. Wiccham- ooooh, sorry,” she suddenly corrected herself, “I guess it’s Eldridge now huh?” Not waiting for a reply, Marianne continued. “I remember that summer in Tuscany, how you always used to dodge out of spell practise so you could go see that man, what was his name?”
Kate paused with her teacup just poised on her lower lip. “Luc,” she said after a moment, “His name was Luc.”
“Luc, yeah…” agreed Marianne, smiling reminiscently. “Wow, he was gorgeous, whatever happened to him?”
“He died,” said Kate abruptly, placing her cup down on the table. “It’s been just over two years now.”
“Oh,” Marianne shuffled awkwardly in her chair, her face suddenly turning serious with embarrassment. “Oh Kate I’m sorry, I…”
“You weren’t to know,” said Kate, placing a hand over her friend’s. “We still have a lot to catch up on after all.”
“Yeah,” agreed Marianne with a slight sigh. “Which is why…” she suddenly leaned forwards, snatching up the paper bag that she’d brought in with her. A cheerful smile slowly spread across her robust features as she unrolled the top, removing a couple of large gooey chocolate brownies. “I came bearing gifts, chocolatey gifts actually. I thought we could have a bit of a chin wag before we get stuck into all that unpacking.”
“Sounds wonderful,” beamed Kate, picking up one of the brownies, the chocolate frosting melting against her fingers. “Oh you are evil,” she said with a laugh, “I’m supposed to be watching my weight.”
Marianne raised an eyebrow cynically, “And what weight would that be? How long have I known you? Seven years? And never in all that time have I known you to put on even an ounce! You make me sick sometimes, you really do. I mean, I know you practically live on tofu and birdseed but really, it’s just not fair.”
Kate shook her head, rolling her eyes slightly as she took a bite of her brownie. She hadn’t had breakfast that morning and the warm chocolatey goodness tasted so good. “Mmmm,” she mumbled in approval, taking another bite, “this is amazing, did you bake them yourself?”
Marianne laughed. “Are you kidding? Do I look like I spend hours slaving over a hot stove? This body was built for loving, not baking brownies, sister,” she said, wiggling her hips comically, “I bought them at the bakery down the street, soon to be known as my second home.”
The two laughed, drinking tea and eating brownies until Marianne noticed the sketch that Kate had been working on earlier. “Hmmm, is this the advertisement for the paper?”
Kate nodded, sipping the last of her tea. “Well it’s just an idea, but we really need to get a final draft to the classifieds section by tomorrow or it won’t make Friday’s edition.”
“No, no, I like it,” said Marianne enthusiastically, turning the pad round to face her so that she could look at it properly. “I love the lettering too, we should use this for our stationery…” She was about to say something else when she noticed a small white card lying on the floor. Reaching down she picked it up, turning it over in her hands. There was a drawing on the front of a couple standing in the shadow of a setting sun.
Unfolding the card, Marianne grinned at the inscription and began to read. “Love endureth all things,” she announced in a fake sentimental voice, “Please come join us in our celebration of love and joy. Blah, blah, blah Amanda Blaise and Andrew Langley will pledge their love and fidelity to one another at three-thirty on Memorial Beach. The wedding will be followed by blah, blah, blah…”
“Hey,” said Kate in annoyance as she recognised the composition and tried to snatch the card back. She’d received the invitation a couple of days ago and brought it with her so that it might remind her to go out and look for a wedding gift after work.
Marianne quickly pulled the invitation out of Kate’s reach, laughing as she recited the inscription again. “Boy, how cheesy can you get? And look at the couple on the front, they’re so in love. Please Kate, will you come to our wedding and see how in looooove we are?” she mocked playfully, pretending to imitate the voices of the couple on the front of the invitation.
“Marianne, have you a romantic bone in your body?” asked Kate in a surreptitious tone as she swiped the wedding invitation from her hands. “And by the way, yes I will be going, I happen to be the Maid of Honour for the happy bride to be.”
“Oh,” said Marianne a little abashed. “Well I’m sure you’ll look lovely in peach satin and puffball sleeves.”
Kate laughed, flicking her friend with the edge of the card. “Will you give it a rest?” she joked lightheartedly. “We’ve chosen the dresses and I can assure you there isn’t a puffball or frilly petticoat to be seen.”
“I suppose Galen will be going with you,” inquired Marianne with a sly grin. She’d only met Galen a couple of times since the Solstice celebrations but she liked him very much. He was kind and funny and it was obvious that he simply adored Kate, plus he was absolutely gorgeous. Marianne smiled again. “Talking of Galen, how IS that devilishly handsome husband of yours?”
“He’s fine and I’m sure it’ll warm his heart to know you care so much to ask after him,” teased Kate. Marianne had openly announced how much she ‘approved’ of Kate’s choice of husband the first time they had all met with the words, “a marked improvement on the first”.
“No, seriously Kate,” said Marianne, her face turning suddenly grave, “I know the two of you had some… problems lately. Things between you both - they’re good?”
Kate looked down, staring sombrely into her lap. “I won’t lie to you, it was really bad for a while there. But things are better, much better. I really think we’re going to get through this.”
“Good,” smiled Marianne, placing a supportive hand over Kate’s. “Well!” she said after a silent moment, standing up with a renewed sense of purpose. “We should probably start doing some actual work, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” said Kate with a nod, standing up to help her friend as she began to unpack one of the large boxes that had arrived that morning. “Marianne?” she asked softly, smiling as she looked up and their eyes made contact. “Thanks.”
daye finds the necklace-june 19
*** Tuesday, June 19, 2007, 2:37 pm ***
*** The Watchers’ Council LA Headquarters ***
Daye sat behind the desk in the study, papers spread out before her. People milled in and out of the room, dropping things off or picking them up. Daye paid them very little heed as she separated the information before her into more manageable groups. She had her hair tied up in back of her head and a pencil stuck out from behind her ear. A cup of tea sat on the edge of the desk, steam still spiraling out of it into the air. Daye lifted it and sipped distractedly as she sat back and skimmed through another one of Delancre’s very revealing scientific reports. Despite his being a egotistical madman, he’d had a hell of a head for science and had managed to make many, many discoveries, both himself and those working under him. Put to the right purpose, much of this knowledge could prove beneficial to various demonic species.
Daye set the report down on one of the piles and rolled her neck to alleviate some of the stiffness. She put her teacup down as well and then stood, yawning and arching her back. One of the Watchers seated at a nearby table glanced up.
“Do you need anything, Miss Blaise?” the young woman asked.
Daye smiled indulgently at the girl. They were all like that here nowadays; very solicitous, very respectful. She could tell that the younger men and women were a bit in awe of her. Daye thought it was funny. She hoped the whole thing would wear off pretty quickly as well.
“No, Lana, I’m fine,” Daye replied. “I’ve just had enough paper sifting to last me for a while, is all. I was thinking I’d go back into the other room and look through some of the artifacts in there. Just for a change of pace, you know?”
Lana nodded. “Yes, ma’am. That’s fine. Do whatever you like. Mrs. Wyldling said we were to give you free run.”
Daye nodded. The girl went back to whatever she’d been working on and Daye moved around the desk towards the rear of the study. There was a door here leading to a smaller room that Delancre had used to store his private archive of valuables. It had been securely locked and severely warded when they’d broke into the mansion after his death. Daye had been in there only once before this, but now she just wanted a break in the monotony.
Stepping into the small room, Daye was once again overcome by the sheer volume of things that Delancre had managed to collect. This room housed a mishmash of weapons, foci, and myriad other objects of power or legend. There was an aura of unmistakable power emanating from most of them.
No one was in the room at this time, so Daye was alone when she sat down in the only chair inside and began to slowly go through the items, pausing to catalogue them in the method the Council had decided on. She was deeply engrossed in her activities when she came across a heavy wooden box in the back corner of a shelf. Groping for it, Daye pulled the box out and lifted it. It was locked and Daye could sense that some kind of spell had been cast over it.
Setting the box down, Daye drew in a deep breath and reached out with her magic, carefully trying to ascertain the nature of the magic of this strange artifact. She probed with her senses. She focused all her attention on the box. Finally, after some time had passed, Daye sat up with a triumphant smile. The box itself was nothing special, but it had been shielded and locked with a particularly strong spell. Daye suspected that something very special must be housed inside.
Daye set the box down and rose to lock the door to the room. She wanted to get a good look at whatever Delancre had considered so important before she shared it with the Council. Just because she’d agreed to help didn’t mean she was fool enough to just trust them implicitly. Daye had promised herself to take care and make sure she had the upper hand in her dealings with the Watchers from here on out.
Once the door was locked and she felt secure, Daye returned to the puzzle of the box. She set it down and studied in silence as she mulled over the different options available for breaking the enchantment to get inside. Finally, deciding on a course of action, Daye held the box aloft and began to chant softly. She would weave a subtle magic and ease the box open, working around the enchantment, rather than trying to force her power to overcome it. It was slow going and exhaustive. For nearly and hour she worked, but at last Daye heard a satisfying click as the locking mechanism on the box came open.
With a sigh of relief, Daye placed the box back down on the small table and leaned over it. She reached out and flipped the box open. Daye gasped in recognition of the bauble inside.
***
“Daye, do you have a minute?” Alessa had been waiting off to one side of the room as the various White Hats broke up into smaller groups and discussed things that had been revealed during the meeting in greater detail. Daye had just finished talking to Darian and Cole. Alessa had not listened in, so she had no idea what the three of them had been discussing.
“Oh, Alessa, sure,” Daye smiled gently. “Did you need something?”
“Yes,” Alessa nodded, pulling the other woman farther away from the crowd. “I needed to ask you a-a favor.”
“Feel free,” Daye advised. “If there’s something I can do for you, I’ll surely try my best to do it.”
“You mentioned during the meeting that you’ll be going back to the Council house to sort through things with the Watchers, right?” Alessa asked.
Daye grimaced distastefully, but nodded her assent. “Yes, I thought it would be for the best and Alicia asked me specifically to do so, so I’ll be trying to find some time soon to do that, yes.”
Alessa nodded. Daye would be the perfect person to ask then. “There’s something I’m looking for, something of value to me, that I believe may be among the items Delancre kept in the house somewhere. I was hoping that perhaps you could keep an eye out for it while you were there.”
“Sure, I could do that,” Daye responded, rather surprised by Alessa’s request. The other woman had mentioned before that she had no interest in any of the things she’d used while staying at the mansion. “I thought you didn’t want to keep any of the things Delancre bought for you, though. Why the sudden change of heart?”
Alessa shook her head. “It’s not something that Delancre bought for me. This… it’s mine. It was mine from before. I lost it on Isla Nublada. I thought that maybe Delancre might have taken it. Maybe he kept it as a trophy or something. I don’t know. I just am hoping to find it. It’s very special to me.”
Daye nodded. She could understand Alessa’s feelings on the matter, though she didn’t know that Delancre really would have the missing item. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to promise to at least look for it, right?
“I’ll try to find it for you,” Daye said. “What is it exactly?”
Alessa laughed softly. “Right, I haven’t said yet, have I?”
Alessa reached into her bag and pulled out a photograph which she handed to Daye. Glancing at it, Daye saw it was a photo of Alessa herself. There was no way to tell how old the picture was, and Daye was suddenly reminded that as a shape shifter, Alessa could appear as anyone at any age. It was a bit strange to think of, but true nonetheless.
“The necklace there,” Alessa pointed to the photograph. “That’s what I’m looking for. It’s a cross, a silver cross. It should have something else on the chain as well, a red agate ring. They are really valuable to me, my father gave me the cross, and the ring… well it's the closest I've had to an engagement ring. If you could just sort of check around while you’re there, I’d really appreciate it, Daye.”
Daye nodded. The cross was really very beautiful and unique. No doubt she’d recognize it if she came across it. “I’ll look for it. I promise.”
“Thank you,” Alessa replied. “As I’ve already said, I really do appreciate it, Daye.”
“No thanks necessary,” Daye waved a hand dismissively in the air. “I’m your friend. This is easily the kind of thing friends do for one another.”
Daye leaned forward and gave the other woman a brief hug. “I have to run now, though. I need to get back to the shop for a bit before I head home. I’ll call you right away if I find anything, Alessa. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” Alessa responded.
***
Daye stared into the box at the beautiful silver cross sitting next to a red agate ring on a fine silver chain. The cross was definitely Alessa’s. There could be no mistaking the delicately carved swirls or the brilliant sunburst in the center of the cross. The silver shone as if recently polished, but still showed the signs of age that marked it as an antique. It was a very lovely piece of jewelry, though Daye suspected that it was much more than that to Alessa. Carefully, Daye leant forward and withdrew the necklace from where it was nestled inside the heavy, velvet-lined wooden box. She shivered when she felt the power coursing from the thing into her fingertips.
Daye grabbed her bag from where she’d set it by the door when she came in and put the necklace inside. Suddenly, feeling more than a little tired, Daye decided it was time to head home for the day. She would have to come back and do some more work on another day. Right now, all she wanted was to head home, put the necklace somewhere safe and climb into bed.
“After you call Alessa,” Daye warned herself as she made her way out of the room and went to let Alicia know she was leaving. “You promised.”
drew thinks of chinaka
*** Tuesday, June 19, 2007, 9:36 pm ***
Drew closed the door behind him with a soft click and stepped into the hallway of the dimly lit house. He could hear the television droning in the family room and assumed that either Daye or Sam was in there. For just a moment, he considered going in to join them, but then decided against it. He’d been at Chinaka’s house for hours; talking and helping her go through more information on the Cadre. He was pretty much knackered and more than ready to just slip into bed. Besides, after feeling so relaxed with his friend, the last thing he was up for was more of the gut wrenching tension he always felt at home. Better to just let it be, and better not to think about it. Too much time spent thinking on what was going on left him even more tense and confused.
*Chinaka…she’s a breath of fresh air,* Drew thought to himself as he picked up his attaché and moved quietly down the hall. He slipped into his bedroom, thankfully avoiding running into anyone and sat down on the edge of the bed, remembering the day he’d gone to see the lovely, young woman at her gallery not long ago.
***
(Flashback)
***Saturday, June 16, 2007, 2:12 pm ***
*** African Heart ***
Drew stepped out of the bright summer sunshine and into the dimmer interior of the trendy art gallery. He moved with deliberate casualness and scanned the room quickly, looking but not looking for the proprietress. Trying to appear at ease, Drew stepped up to a pedestal which held a piece of statuary and studied it with his head cocked to one side.
Chinaka heard the front door swing shut from the back office of African Heart. She was hoping that dealing with customers would not be part of her day, but a buck was a buck and a buck, actually, lots of them was what she needed a constant stream of.
Searching the planet for Parasol was no cheap feat. Chinaka closed her eyes to the computer screen, pushed away from the desk, put on the happiest face she could muster and went to the doorway to the gallery.
She stood stock still in the doorway as she studied the man she knew studying the sculpture.
Her heart nearly beat out of her chest, not just because of the crush held for him, but also because memories of Parasol latched on to the crush and both rode through her soul.
"Hi," she said softly.
Drew glanced up at the softly spoken word and grinned in relief. He'd come to look at art, true, to find something special, something for Maia's room, but he'd come to this gallery with an ulterior motive. Drew had come here hoping to see this woman, someone he'd once taken an instant liking to and someone he'd not seen in far too long. Unlike the friends he'd had before he met Daye, or the ones he'd made through her, Chinaka understood things about his world but was still very much his friend and not his fiancés. Right now, that was just the kind of thing he needed.
"Hi yourself," Drew responded, turning away from the sculpture. "It's been a long time, Chinaka. How're you doing?"
Chinaka dropped her head, hesitant to move out of the safety of her office's doorway. Why? She wasn't sure. Drew belonged to her past. The part of her past that was now a hole in her life.
Parasol.
Her aunt Parasol. Her Auntie Parasol.
"Drew," she chuckled softly. "Long time, indeed." Chinaka walked toward him with her hand extended for a handshake, amazed that she was so excited to just touch him after all this time.
"I'm good. You? How's your mom?"
Drew accepted Chinaka's hand and gripped it firmly. He smiled broader at her, feeling amazingly relaxed and pleased with him. "She's doing great," Drew replied. "She's really excited about being a Grandma...and well...she's over the moon because…I'm getting married."
*Grandma!? Married!? That honkin' redhead his baby mama?* Chinaka thought and mentally sucked her teeth.
"Married. Well, how nice for you, Drew? I assume it's...it's...I'm so sorry, I can't remember her name." Chinaka walked behind the counter for emotional protection, mad at herself that she sorta cared after all this time. Frankly, all of her time, thought and energy had been put toward her mission of finding Parasol.
"The redhead?" she questioned dryly.
Drew noticed Chinaka pulling away, and for a moment he wondered if she were angry or upset about his news.
"Yeah, Amanda...you met her at the bookshop," Drew replied. Maybe Chinaka's coolness was just his imagination. "We're getting married on the 30th. And...I guess you don't know about Maia, either. She's Amanda's little girl. She's adorable. I...well, I'm pretty much her daddy...in all the ways that count."
*Well, baby mama drama even happens to white folks,* Chinaka thought. From behind the counter, Chinaka stared hard at Drew deciding which of the paths that opened before her to take.
He always did get her going. She liked the way he was made, nice ass and all. But she also she remembered his gentle soul was soothing to be around.
Parasol popped back in her mind.
*Girl,* she said to herself, *you've got enough to worry about without adding a big soap opera to your life. Be glad for a friend...a friend who won't look at you all crazy when you mention blood rites, boxes of bones and necromancers and the other assortments of the life she'd come to know since Parasol left.
"Gimme some love," she exclaimed as she put her arms around him for a hug she'd relish as the friend to him she'd decided to be. But of course, she was a human, not a saint.
Being that close to Drew just in no way could be a bad thing.
Drew accepted Chinaka's hug readily. "Gladly," he said, laughing softly. "So...now that you know what I've been up to...or at least you've been given the Cliffs notes version, what about you? What's been keeping Miss Chinaka busy all this time?"
Yep. The hug was a good thing.
"Well, hell, let me grab a couple of beers out of the fridge and we'll go sit outside." Chinaka whirled and headed to the office. "I'll give you the whole 411," she hollered out from the back.
She walked back into the gallery sporting a couple of Coronas and breezed past Drew. *God he smells good.* Standing in the entrance to African heart, she motioned for him to join her outside.
Drew shrugged and followed Chinaka outside. The day was hot, bordering on sweltering, but Drew loved Los Angeles in the summer, so he wasn't about to complain. Besides, Chinaka was providing ice cold beer to stave off the heat.
Drew followed Chinaka to a pair of matching Adirondack chairs on the sidewalk near the door to the gallery. He settled himself in beside her and grabbed for the Corona she'd set on the small table between the chairs. The street African Heart sat on was alive with people, moving from storefront to storefront. Some were obviously tourists, dressed in shorts and loud shirts, talking and laughing as they snapped picture after picture with the cameras slung around their necks. Growing up in L.A., tourists were a very familiar species to Drew. He never grew tired of watching them discover the varied beauties this city had to offer. On the other hand, Drew also loved to see the people who made up the wildly eclectic population of Los Angeles.
Taking a deep swig from the long necked bottle in his hand, Drew drew in a deep breath, inhaling the spicy mixtures of incense coming from the shops around him as well as the lingering car exhaust from the quiet street. He could hear music, all different kinds of music, drifting on the summer air.
"This place is...really nice," Drew said to Chinaka, as a couple strolled by hand in hand. They both had long, blonde hair that fell in their eyes, and Drew was enchanted by the somewhat androgynous similarity between the two as they both simultaneously flipped hair from their eyes as they passed.
Yeah, I love it here. Spend a lot of time here. Don't go home that much, if I can help it." Chinaka looked around at the normal sights she saw Drew taking in.
She dropped her voice so that only Drew could hear.
"Remember the last time I saw you...at Red's shop?" She looked into his eyes for recognition.
Drew nodded. "Sure, I remember, at the Bib," he said. "Things got...crazy for a while after that, though. That's why I haven't talked to you for so long. How's your aunt, by the way? Still...life challenged?"
Chinaka grabbed her beer and took a long swig, concentrating on not breaking out in tears. "I guess. Drew, she's still gone. No word. No messages. No nothin'. Not even to my mom and she's never not contacted my mom. I mean, think about it. She's always kept track of her progeny. For generations! I mean, before e-mail! Before telephones, before transcontinental railroads. Before everything." Chinaka concentrated on her hands around the neck of the Corona.
"I've been looking for her. Hard. I've gotten a little more connected to the supernatural stuff that goes on around LA, but that's been difficult too. I mean, who do you ask about that stuff?
"I'm beginning to think she's blowin' in the wind."
Drew frowned. “I don’t know…that is, some of Daye’s friends, well…I’m sure you realized that night that some of them, they…hunt people like your aunt. Not that I know anything, but I’m just saying…it’s not exactly safe, being a vampire…even one who tries not to…that is…I don’t know. I hope that Parasol is alright, but I wouldn’t guarantee it, you know?”
Chinaka looked at Drew trying and failing to hide her horror. It was one thing if she said it; quite another hearing it come at her.
"She's gotta be, Drew. I was awful to her. Just awful."
Chinaka looked back down the neck of her beer bottle. "Just awful. I know she's supposed to be an evil dead thing but the reason I'm here at all is because of that evil dead thing. The chances of my family, going back generations, surviving are slim. And we didn't just survive. We PROSPERED."
Chinaka just let the tears full-on flow now, not really caring who saw.
"It doesn't matter that she's evil and dead...she behaved better than my godly and alive self."
Drew nodded. “Being alive for centuries can have its advantages. It gives you time to become pretty wise, and I know I only barely met your aunt, but she struck me as wise, as well as both resourceful and loyal. I don’t know what you did to her, or what you said, but she also struck me as smart. I’m pretty sure she knows that you didn’t mean any harm, and I’m positive she’s not disappeared because of you, Chinaka.”
Drew reached out and took her hand in his own, offering comfort and support. “I know how it feels…not knowing…being left behind to wonder if the person you love is alright, and if you’ll ever see them again. I’m sorry that you have to go through that.”
Careful not to uncouple her one hand from Drew's, Chinaka used the other to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Aaahhh, dammit. I thought I was all cried out."
She squeezed Drew's hand. "And thanks. Change of subject because it can't always be all about me. What do you think of me?" Chinaka cocked an eyebrow and sniffled. "Just funnin'. Other than wifey and kids, how's your life going?"
Drew sighed. He'd come to talk because of his problems, but just now it seemed that Chinaka had more than enough drama of her own. Could he really justify burdening her with any of his?
"It's been...interesting," Drew replied evasively. "Then again, I supposed falling in love with a witch whose part of an international conglomeration of supernatural entities is never going to be boring, right?"
Chinaka looked into his wide open face and wondered which answer to give, 'cause she had a whole slew of 'em. She could feel he was giving her the party line and after all that went down with Parasol, she had made a promise to herself to never bullshit an honest answer.
"Drew. What's up?"
"Honestly." She watched his face. "Really."
Drew hesitated a moment more. "It's kind of a long, crazy story," he finally said. "Are you sure you want to hear about it?"
At Chinaka's nod, Drew began to tell her about all the things that had happened to him over the last year and a half. He told her about Daye and Mariah and Ryan and how Maia had been born. He told her about how he'd struggled to come to terms with that and about how happy they'd all been for the brief time after they'd come home from Ireland. Then he started to tell her about Ambrose Delancre and the things he'd done. When he got to the part about the Hyde virus, Drew felt as if he'd been talking for hours. After telling Chinaka about Daye's strange behavior and what they'd learned about the virus he paused.
"It all sounds so surreal when you hear it just straight out like that," Drew admitted. "Sometimes I can't figure out how I got mixed up in all this, you know?"
Chinaka took a long look around her street. These people couldn't even imagine what went on in the night. She could. Chinaka'd seen it firsthand. As well as Drew. She felt her heart go out to this man, handsome man. He had an idea what that scary mountain was. She didn't choose Parasol. Parasol was family. This man, for the sake of love, inhabited that mountain by choice. Holy Jesus, Chinaka thought.
"Do you want me to just listen to you or do you want my 2 cents?"
"Feel free to offer any insight or opinion you have," Drew replied. "Lord knows, I need some advice from someone. It's not like I'm handling these things all that well now."
"I think you're a wonderful man, Drew." She watched him blush from collar to hairline. "I sorta envy Red, in a wholesome way, of course." Chinaka got the chuckle from Drew she wanted.
"You can't help who you love. I'm not sure I would have the spine to endure all of that, so I admire you."
Chinaka looked around the street again. She pointed toward an African sundry shop with an old woman sitting out front fanning herself. "See that woman?" Drew nodded. "That's Mrs. Saffold. She and her husband owned that store for nearly 30 years before he died last December. Mr. Saffold put that dear old woman through a world of hurt. Other women. Gambling. I think he was even in jail once. But she kept on loving him. Loving him when everything told her not to." Chinaka girded herself for what she was about to say.
"It was a choice she made and she stuck with it. So my 2 cents is..." Damn. She didn't want to say this.
"If it's Red you want, then you should stick with her." Chinaka nearly choked on it. She took a swig of her beer and then Drew's hand again.
"Stick with her and love her the best way you know how."
"That's the thing, Chinaka," Drew paused, studying the old woman across the street. "I don't know what that way is anymore. After we defeated Delancre, after everything was supposed to go back to normal, I didn't. I can't. All I can think about is what she did. Sometimes I can't stop the pictures in my head. I see her with other men...human and otherwise...and it just drives me crazy. I want to...I don't know what...punish her...punish them...punish someone."
Drew stopped. His fists were clenched tightly. He shook his head. "There's this guy...this necromancer. Daye took up with him while she was...sick. But he's difference, this Marcus Dalton guy, because now she still wants to be friends with him. I know that Dalton didn't know about me or us or anything when he met Daye. Hell, he's the one who helped cure her of the virus, but he also wouldn't help us rescue Daye from Delancre until I promised him some kind of payment in return. I...I just don't really like the guy, but Amanda does. The thing is, he's just another reminder, and there are so many reminders. I don't know what to do. I love her, but I just..."
Drew's voice trailed off. He scrubbed a hand over his face and then fell back against his chair, brooding silently.
Chinaka could barely contain herself. *You mean to tell me that Red's actually GOT Drew and she wants to be "friends" with some other guy? Hell, the way she was feeling with a couple of beers in her, she'd abandon Jesus Christ himself if Drew could feel an edge about her the way he felt for Red. Chinaka was livid. She also noticed that it was good to feel something besides the regret that bubbled through her pores every time she thought of Parasol. And the brooding part. All kinds of sexy.
"Drew...you want to think about something else?"
Drew glanced over at her suspiciously. "I'd take just about anything to get this mess off my mind. What you got in mind?"
"Hehe. Mess? Sounds like you been hanging out with some colored folks. I say I close up shop and we get back to my favorite subject -- me. Me and my problems.
I've got several more books regarding the Cadre that Parasol was looking for, that I didn't get from Red's shop, so she's not the end all be all just so you know. I could use some help researching. You game?"
"I say we pick up some soul food from M&M's -- since you're all ethnic these days -- go to my house and...research party!!" Chinaka jumped out of the chair and did a mean "lean back" to the music and grabbed his hand. The street saw them boogalooing on into African Heart. The white boy looked happy.
(End Flashback)
***
Focusing on Chinaka’s problem had been just the thing that day to help him get out of his own head, and afterwards, Drew had found himself more relaxed than he could remember being in a very long time. That was why he’d found an excuse to swing by her place again tonight, and why he knew he’d be doing so again soon. With all the time Drew was spending trying to ignore the problems he was having with Daye, or at the very least not to think about them, it was a relief to have somewhere to go where he could just think about other things. And Chinaka was the only person he could think of that had absolutely no reason to be loyal to anyone but him. It might seem childish, but there was something so nice about having one person around who was totally in his corner.
Drew stood and began to undress, still thinking happily about how much he was enjoying keeping company with Chinaka. It occurred to him that when a woman other than your bride to be became better company than said bride to be that it probably meant there were some serious issues to consider, but resolutely, Drew pushed that disturbing thought to the back of his mind. He was feeling so much better that he couldn’t bear to burst the bubble.
daye recalls trouble with drew - june 20
*** Wednesday, June 20, 2007, 7:24 am ***
*** The Bibliophile ***
The shop was buzzing with conversation and from her vantage point near the front door, Daye could see the breakfast crowd gathered around the hostess station at the restaurant. She smiled politely at a passing customer as she studied the shop with a critical eye. The repairs she’d had done in a rush looked really good. There was no evidence that a rage monster had recently rampaged through the place, just as there was no evidence she herself had gone a few rounds with the beast. She’d taken some time to rest and recuperate at home, making all the necessary calls to the contractors and dealing with the bank as well. She’d paid for the repairs out of her savings, because she couldn’t very well file an insurance claim.
Daye sighed, heading back to her office. At least some good had come of Kate’s spell. Things finally seemed to really be alright between the two of them again. She couldn’t be happier. In the long run, it was more than worth the beating she’d taken. Not that Drew had really been in agreement. He’d taken one look at the damage she’d suffered and gone through the roof. Daye hated to think how much more upset he’d have been if Kate hadn’t healed the worst of it before she headed home.
Drew had been out of sorts the last few days though. Daye couldn’t figure out what was going on with him. He’d been gone most of the day on Saturday, and when he’d come home he’d seemed quieter than usual. Daye hadn’t asked him if anything was wrong. She just wasn’t sure that she wanted to know. Worrying that perhaps he’d heard somehow about her seeing Marcus, though, had prompted her to try and sit down with him last night once she’d gotten home from the mansion and talk about a few things. Not that that had gone altogether well.
***
(Flashback)
Drew sat at his desk in the den. He had papers spread out before him and was obviously working on something. Daye approached him hesitantly. She didn’t want to disturb anything important, but worry and guilt had been gnawing at her all day. She had to talk to him about Marcus, now, while she still had the nerve. She just hoped he hadn’t heard something from someone else, as that would make this conversation so much worse. Still, she’d promised Marcus that she’d come clean with Drew. She had to keep that promise. It was the right thing to do.
Daye cleared her throat when she finally reached Drew’s desk. He glanced up, a pair of wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose. He looked slightly guilty and Daye noticed that he moved to cover the papers he’d been going over. She didn’t know what to think. *Maybe he’s planning some sort of surprise,* she guessed. She smiled gently at him.
“Hey…Baby…what’s up?” Drew asked. He didn’t want Amanda to see the information he’d brought home from his meeting with Chinaka the other day. Drew realized that Amanda might be better equipped to try and help Chinaka with her ‘Auntie Parasol’ problem, but he also realized that right now he didn’t want to share the other woman. He didn’t have a lot of friends out there who would understand certain things the way that Chinaka did. And Chinaka was the only friend with the right mind set who was his and his alone. He needed that right now, so he wasn’t about to start bringing Amanda in on that friendship just yet. Not until he felt ready to let go a bit anyway.
“I…I need to talk to you about something,” Daye replied, feeling quite nervous.
“Okay…sure…hang on,” Drew said. Amanda sounded serious and maybe a bit nervous. Drew ignored the sudden clenching in his stomach. He pushed the papers on the desk together and moved them into a drawer, locking it. Then he turned full towards Amanda and leaned forward. “What is it? Is there something wrong, Baby?”
Daye drew in a deep breath. She was nearly shaking, she was so afraid of what Drew might think. “Yes…well, no…not really…that is…okay, here it is,” Daye struggled with her words. “I need to tell you the truth about something, okay. I…I told you last week that I was working late every night, but…that wasn’t entirely the truth.”
“What do you mean?” Drew asked suspiciously. “What were you doing?”
“Last Wednesday night I had dinner with Marcus,” Daye replied.
“When you were ‘working on the books’?” Drew asked, his voice deadly soft. “That night? When I called you to check and see if you were alright? You weren’t at the shop then? You were out with Marcus Dalton? Is that right? You lied…actually flat out lied to me about it on the phone? And Marcus…he was there, right? So…he knows you lied to me about him. I’ll bet he got a real rush out of that. I can just imagine. Did you two laugh about what a trusting idiot I was when you hung up the phone? Did you?!”
Drew’s voice had risen slowly until at the end he was nearly shouting. Daye shook her head quickly and reached out towards Drew. This was actually worse than she had imagined. “Drew…no…please listen to me,” she said softly. “It wasn’t like that at all. That’s not what happened. Please.”
Drew snorted derisively. He was pacing tensely around the room. “Sure it wasn’t,” he retorted. “You’ve been seeing a man that was one of your lovers and lying to me about it, but it was all perfectly innocent? That’s absolutely believable.”
Daye grimaced. There was no arguing with what he’d just said. She’d made a terrible mistake, an error in judgement and she had no good reason for it. All she could hope for was that he’d accept her apology and try to understand her flawed thinking. “I…I know how it sounds. I’m not so stupid as to expect you not to feel the way you’re feeling now, Drew.”
“How generous of you,” he sneered.
Daye moved in the path of his pacing and stood in front of him. She didn’t touch him, but he pulled up short to stare coldly at her. “Please, just hear me out,” she begged. “I…I want to try and explain.”
Drew was tempted to just walk out on her. How could she explain this? He was having enough trouble ignoring his own doubts and just trusting her from day to day, without this. How could she lie to him now? Surely she knew that he needed her to be honest. She must on some level at least realize that he was still reeling from her actions while infected with Hyde. Why would she do something like this now?
“Please, Drew,” Daye begged again. “I…I’m sorry. I know I’ve made a terrible mistake here, but it’s really not what you think.”
Drew nodded slowly. As much as he wanted to lash out or run away, this was still the woman he loved. He would at least listen to what she had to say.
“I…the last time I told you I was seeing Marcus, you were so upset,” Daye began. She looked down at the floor. “You…you seem to dislike him so very much, but…I like him. I feel very much that he’s a good friend and I…I don’t feel comfortable turning away from someone who’s done so much to help me in the past. I know I haven’t known Marcus for very long, but our association has been…intense. That sort of thing creates different feelings, different attachments. I like him, and I very much want to continue to try and be friends with Marcus. Just friends. There’s nothing for you to worry about. And there’s no reason for you to dislike him so much. He’s been good to me, Drew.”
*When it’s convenient,* Drew thought. Daye didn’t know about his agreement with Marcus. She had no idea that Marcus had expected payment for his aid in her rescue. Amanda thought of the bastard as some sort of hero. Drew was tempted to disabuse her of that notion, but the idea left a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted Amanda to be with him because she loved and wanted him. Telling her about Marcus would only serve to make her angry and Drew would still be left wondering if Amanda might have feelings for the other man. It would do nothing to make anything better for any of them, and could well make things worse.
“I…I can talk to Marcus about things,” Daye continued, her voice faltering slightly. “He listens to me and I never feel like he’s judging. It helps, sometimes, having a friend to talk to who has nothing to gain or lose.”
Drew visibly flinched at her words. He was suddenly reminded of his recent conversation with Chinaka. He couldn’t even pretend not to understand what Amanda meant. He’d gone to see Chinaka for that very reason. He also hadn’t told Amanda anything about that visit. It was something just for him, as Amanda’s friendship with Marcus apparently was for her. The thing was, though, that Drew had never slept with Chinaka. Amanda couldn’t say the same about Marcus. And Marcus was a bastard, even if Amanda didn’t know it.
“Why don’t you just talk to me?” Drew asked plaintively.
Daye paused and stared quizzically at him. “But…I…Drew I need someone to talk to about what happened to me. You…you don’t want to talk about that.”
Drew closed his eyes slowly and brought a weary hand to his head. *No…no…no…I…can’t…why can’t she just let it go? I can’t talk about that…this…*
“Amanda, why do you want to keep reliving that?” he asked, his voice soft and sad. “It’s over…you need to forget about it.”
Anger flashed hot and fast inside of Daye. She struggled to control it before she spoke again. Drew sounded so defeated. She didn’t want to hurt him. She never wanted to hurt him. That was the whole point. “Drew…I can’t just…sometimes it’s too much. I need to have someone listen…but I know how hard it is for you. That’s why I went to see Marcus. I just needed someone to talk to. Someone who I hadn’t hurt terribly. Someone who had been left unscathed by Hyde. Can you understand that?”
Drew nodded, most of his anger draining away in the light of her quiet desperation. *I can’t…I just can’t talk about that. I can’t think about it.* Drew thought. *It makes me so…mad…so furious. If I think of her…of other men…of demons and whatever…*
Drew shook his head, frowning viciously at the floor. He brought a hand up to scrub through his hair violently. *I just can’t…*
“I…I get that maybe you needed someone to talk to,” Drew finally said. “I…I feel the same way sometimes. I just…you shouldn’t have lied to me, Amanda. That’s no good. We have to be honest with one another if we’re going to learn how to trust each other again.”
Daye nodded. Of course that was true. They couldn’t hope to rebuild unless they were honest with each other. *You can’t hope to rebuild if you’re burning up for another man, either,* Daye’s nasty inner voice argued. She glanced down guiltily. *I should tell him everything. I should tell him how I’ve been feeling. I should tell him how anxious I am…about the wedding…about Marcus…about everything. This is all wrong. I should say something.*
Drew stepped closer to Daye. He cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her face so that he could look into her eyes. He could see the emotions warring inside of her. “Baby, it’s alright. I…I was angry, but I…I understand why you lied. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to ever lie to me again. I love you. Amanda, baby, I love you so much. We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”
Daye stared up into Drew’s blue eyes. He smiled tentatively, and Daye could see how much hope and love he had in his heart. The words were right there on the tip of her tongue. She was on the verge. She could pour it all out right there. She could tell him every dark, scary thing in her heart and her head. She could come clean, totally clean, but if she did, what then. Daye knew that Drew would try to understand, but she also knew that what she was thinking and feeling, it would hurt him so very much. Daye had promised herself she wouldn’t hurt anyone she loved again. To do so would be so very selfish. It was better to just wait, to just push it all down inside and pretend everything was okay. Eventually, if she did that long enough, surely it would become true. Eventually everything would really be okay. Daye just had to wait a little longer and keep trying.
“Of course it will,” Daye replied, leaning into Drew’s embrace. She let her eyes slide closed and tried to be comforted, but deep inside she was so afraid.
(End Flashback)
***
Daye stared forlornly at her computer. Things with Drew weren’t quite right, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to be able to find a way to fix them. A part of her was beginning to deeply resent the way he insisted on ignoring the things that had happened to her. It was about more than how he’d been hurt. Daye too had been hurt by her actions, hurt by the terrible things that had occurred while she suffered from the Hyde virus. She needed to work through those things, but the way Drew avoided any mention of them only served to add to her feelings of shame. After a while, constantly feeling judged and found wanting led a person to begin to feel anger as well. If Drew would only talk to her, then maybe…but he just wouldn’t and Daye couldn’t make him.
*The wedding is in ten days,* Daye told herself, trying to muster some kind of enthusiasm. *I have to do something to get into the right frame of mind.*
Daye glanced around her cluttered office, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic. She’d been working nonstop it seemed for weeks now. She’d spent a harrowing weekend, what with the argument with Drew coming right on the heels of Kate’s monstrous breakdown. Daye was tired and more than a little stressed.
“What I really need, is a break,” Daye murmured aloud. “I worked all day yesterday at the mansion, and I’m planning to be here all day today. It’s just too much. I really, really need to just get out and do something relaxing and mind numbing.”
Daye noticed a flyer for a nearby shop laying among the other mail piled on her desk. She usually just pulled the bills and important correspondence out of the shop mail and let the junk pile up, so it was no surprise to find the flyer there. “That’s it,” Daye said, suddenly coming to a decision. “That’s just what I need. I’ll go shopping.”
Daye stood, grabbing her bag from it’s usual place dangling from the back of her chair. She stretched, feeling lighter already. For a few hours, at least, she could just wander through some of the nearby shops and not think about Drew, or mysterious magical artifacts that once belonged to madmen, or friends she’d hurt…or Marcus. For a short time, she’d escape and then, maybe, when she came back, she’d be much better equipped to cope.
marcus and daye have lunch - june 20
*** Wednesday, June 20, 2007, 12:10 pm ***
*** The Bibliophile ***
Daye stood in front of the floor length mirror mounted on the front of the bathroom door in the staff lounge at the Bibliophile and turned side to side, inspecting her reflection carefully. She still couldn't say what impulse had prompted her to purchase the tiny blue bikini she was now checking out from every possible angle. She normally opted for more conservative beachwear. When they'd been in Tahiti together, Drew had playfully bemoaned the fact that she had shown less skin on the beach than some of the retirees they'd seen. Well, he was sure to have nothing to complain about on their honeymoon, assuming Daye was actually going to wear this outside where people might actually see her.
*I just might,* Daye admitted to herself. She had thought being barely covered by small triangles of shimmery blue material would have left her feeling uncomfortable and ridiculous. How was she to know that instead she would feel so...free and sexy?
She pushed her long hair up off her head with one arm and struck a seductive pose, imagining how it would feel to be somewhere other than a deserted, dusty storage room cum lounge. What would it feel like to have men watching her? Would she like being the object of lustful fantasies?
Daye closed her eyes and tried to imagine just how it could be. Unbidden an image of one particular man sprang into her mind. As he watched her and his normally cool blue eyes lit with fire, Daye's free hand moved to stroke gently down her throat.
Marcus opened the door into Bibliophile’s staff lounge having been giving a passing nod Joshua. He got no further. It was not the various items of clothing scattered across the room. - the satin night gown or the glimpse of lacy briefs. What stopped Marcus was the absolute vision before him. Daye stood with her back to him, the skimpy bikini displaying the elegant line of her torso, which lead, by way of the perfect globes of her buttocks, to the long seemingly endless length of her legs.
The image brought to mind a memory of just those legs wrapped possesively around his waist, Daye’s heat pressed hard against him while her mouth plundered his own. Caught up in sudden lust Marcus watched Daye’s hand trail gently across from one strap to the other before moving downwards. Marcus watched Daye’s skin flush pale pink in the wake of the motion before the sounds of Bibliophile behind him penetrated his haze.
He coughed, “I’m sorry” and with a sharp motion stepped back and closed the door.
Daye jumped at the sudden sound of Marcus voice seeming to come to life straight out of her wanton fantasy. She spun around and saw the door shutting.
"Oh, no," Daye moaned, horrified that Marcus had come in on her that way. She could just imagine what he must be thinking. She moved quickly towards the pile of clothing and grabbed hold of the cotton top and denim shorts she'd worn for her shopping trip earlier that day. She slipped both on over the bikini and quickly opened the door to the shop. She raced out of the room, barefoot and blushing.
Daye spotted Marcus immediately when she got back into the shop's main room. He was seated at a table near the back, his profile facing her. Daye could see that his hands were tightly clenched on the table in front of him and he was staring down at them intently. Onyx sat at the table as well, and she was watching Marcus with a perplexed frown. Daye hurried over to them.
"I...Marcus...I was just...," Daye's voice tralied off. What could she say? *I was just enjoying this highly erotic fantasy of you coming in on me, throwing me to the floor, and us having hot, wild sex on the storeroom floor?* That wasn't gonna work.
Marcus kept his eyes firmly fixed on his hands. While he was certain Daye was wearing much more than she had been, right now he didn’t trust his face to not show what he was thinking or for that matter what he was feeling. The glimpse he caught of her lithe legs as she approached was enough under the circumstances to set his mind and pulse racing all over again.
“It’s not your fault…” At least he hadn’t lost control of his voice even if its cool tones were at odds with everything else about him. “I should have knocked. You thought…”
Actually he wasn’t sure what Daye had thought but he realised she’d been daydreaming about something.
*Damnit!* Daye cursed inwardly. Marcus wouldn't even look at her. Hiow could she have been so stupid? Standing there daydreaming about him when he was due to arrive for their lunch together.
"No...really...I shouldn't have...it's a rather public area," Daye said. She slid into the only empty chair remaining at the table and gently placed her hand on Marcus' clenched fists. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I bought some new things...for Tahiti and I just wanted to see..."
Daye blew out a frustrated breath. "Never mind...it was just an accident...a mistake...it's ok. Right?"
With a practised motion Marcus slipped his hands from Dayes gentle grasp, as he did so he looked up hoping that the raw desire he felt for her was not too apparent in his eyes. “I suppose we both made mistakes.” Marcus took a deep breath and gave a little laugh. “I suppose I overreacted…”
Daye could see the banked heat in Marcus gaze and she wasn't going to pretend she didn't understand why he'd run. She smiled shakily. Her own body was still humming from the pleasant visions she'd had while standing in front of the mirror. For the first time, she began to wonder if it was a good idea, trying to just be friends with this man when with each passing meeting her lust for him grew and grew. She could also have questioned why that would be so when she was supposed to be in love with Drew, when she was set to marry him in a little over a week. She could have, but she didn't. Sometimes it was safer just to let certain sleeping dogs lie.
"Forget it," Daye replied. *Not that I'm going to be able to.*
She turned a bright, sunny smile on Onyx, hoping a change of subject would help Marcus to relax, and herself for that matter.
"Hello, Onyx," she said. "I guess you'll be going with us today?"
"Discretely of course." Onyx replied with a slow nod. “Even with Delancre gone there are always enemies around.” Onyx kept her gaze on Daye for a few moments. Ever since Daye’s initial recovery from Hyde Marcus’ relationship with her had become hopelessly tangled. Onyx realised she didn’t attach the same importance to sex as humans did but even so she found this particular situation strange. Perhaps she shouldn’t have cultivated quite such a distaste for Garland’s habits in Marcus. “Unfortunately Marcus hasn’t mentioned where you’re going.”
Daye turned her gaze back on Marcus, pleased to see that he seemed to be feeling...better. "Where are we going?" she asked. "I believe it's your turn to pick."
“Hmmm…” Marcus gave Daye’s clothes a once over. They were decidely casual, but if he left his jacket with the car the mismatch wouldn’t be so bad. “There’s that little street café on Grant.” Marcus smiled broadly. “It’s not quite a hidden treasure but it is still very good."
"Okay," Daye nodded. She glanced down at herself. "Uhm...can you give me about five minutes to put on some shoes and tidy up a couple of things back there?"
Daye gestured towards the closed door to the storeroom/staff lounge.
"Of Course. Take as long as you need."
***
The café was everything Marcus hoped. They sat out in the glorious sunshine and sipped iced tea and between the pleasant surroundings, the warm light, and the food they managed to forget their recent brush with desire.
It was a beautiful, sunny summer day. The usual Los Angeles smog was light and Daye couldn't help herself. Seated at an elegant little table in a sidewalk cafe, she was basking.
Daye smiled lazily at Marcus as he finished ordering and the waiter slipped quietly away. They were seated across from each other but because the table was so small, beneath it, Daye's leg brushed Marcus' as she shifted in her seat. She didn't even pretend not to notice the warmth spreading through her at the innocent contact. She was just feeling too good. There was nothing in the world to compare with the feel of the sun kissing your bare skin on a perfect summer day while you shared perfectly sipped, perfectly sweetened tea and talked about perfectly pleasant things with a perfectly pleasant companion.
"Perfect," Daye murmured. "This is perfect, Marcus."
She reached across the table to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."
Marcus picked up his own tea, freeing his hand in the process and smiled at Daye’s unabashed enjoyment of the sun. He didn’t spend much time in the sun. In truth Marcus preferred cool rainy days to the hot sun of California. His ‘native’ Hong Kong didn’t have many of those either but Marcus had long since realised his soul at least hankered for Englands green and pleasant land. Even he could appreciate a moment like this though.
"You're welcome"
Daye frowned. It had been nagging at her for a while now, that habit he had of politely but expertly ending even the most innocent contact she initiated with him immediately. Remembering the many times when he'd offered her comfort with a gentle caress or a tender embrace, she wondered if she was missing something.
Deliberately, to see what he'd do, Daye leaned towards him and laid a hand on his arm. She waited expectantly.
Marcus calmly ignored Daye’s hand on his arm even when the fingers began to stroke gently through the sleeve but when the waiter arrived with their salads a deft motion accepted one of the plates and simulataneously detached her hand..
Daye wasn't fooled for a moment. As soon as he'd been able to, he'd extricated himself. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at him as Marcus picked up his fork.
"Why do you do that?" she asked.
Marcus cocked his head, clearly mystified by her question. “Do what?”
"You always do it," Daye said. "And I can't for the life of me figure out why."
Daye cocked her head to one side in unconscious mimicry of his motion. She stood and scooted her chair closer to Marcus. She took the fork out of his hand and pulled it towards her, holding onto him.
"Does this bother you for some reason?" Daye asked. She held his hand loosely in her own, but watched him closely. "You seem to be okay with touching me, but whenever I touch you, you sort of...freeze up...and then disconnect as quickly as you can. Why is that? Is it just me?"
Marcus made a subtle motion, as well practised as anything else he did and Daye was no longer holding his hand. Indeed Marcus went further his hands dropped into his lap making it harder for Daye to take them again. “I’m just not…comfortable with it.” He said somewhat apologetically. This was the first time he’d been challenged on the subject in a while. Usually his withdrawals were polite enough not to attract notice.
Daye sighed. This was a puzzle. "I don't understand," she admitted. "Like I said before, you touch me, right? I'm not crazy. The problem isn't like some sort of phobia about touching? It's because I'm initiating the contact, right? Why is that?"
When Daye didn’t immediately try for more contact Marcus moved his chair restoring his personal space. “I had a solitary childhood. You know that, Amanda.” He retrieved his fork and pulled the salad towards himself, half turning as he did so.
Daye wasn't dumb. She'd noticed his deliberate use of her given name. He was trying not so subtly to tell her to back off. Unfortunately for Marcus, though, Daye wasn't comfortable being shut out by her friends.
"Marcus," her voice was severe," what the hell does having a solitary childhood have to do with it? I may have had friends when I was younger, but I was still an only child myself. I don't think even isolated children develop an aversion to being touched. And since you don't seem to be too squeamish when it's your choice...oh...is it a control thing?"
“No! Yes…no,” Marcus shut his eyes and grimaced for a moment. “It’s different…. Garland was a drunkard…there wasn’t much emotional comfort there.” He lapsed into silence and mechanically ate his salad.
Daye frowned. That was the second time he'd mentioned his father's unfortunate problems with alcohol. Each time he'd made quick, passing references to it, but Daye suspected that whatever relationship he had with his father affected Marcus far more deeply then he let on.
"You...you mentioned Garland...your father?...before," Daye said slowly. She could see that he was disturbed by her questions and that she'd have to tread carefully here. "Maybe I'm not getting a clear picture here, but I guess he pretty much sucked at the parenting thing, right?"
“Garland washed his hands of me the day I was born and went back to the life he had before he married my mother.” *They always wanted to know why…why…why… Kate hadn’t been able to leave well enough alone, now Daye too. Picking and prodding at things.* Marcus let the bitterness wash over him “and yes he ‘sucked at the parenting thing.’ Onyx pretty much raised me. Along with the occasional governess.”
Daye felt her heart breaking for the abandoned boy Marcus once had been. She couldn't imagine what it might have been like to be raised by Onyx. Although the demon was perfectly polite, she wasn't exactly warm or motherly in any way.
*Motherly?* the thought gave Daye pause. "But what about your mother? What happened to her? Surely she didn't just abandon you as well.”
Marcus’ voiced went flat and cold. “Not precisely, no. She died. When I was four…days old.” Marcus picked up his tea and swallowed the unsweetened liquid. “Died is technically correct, I suppose, but suicide is more accurate.” Marcus was in enough control to prevent himself from making a scene but his anger was nonetheless apparent. “She hung herself.”
Daye felt the angry bite of his words. She was aghast at what he'd said, though. His mother had...hanged herself...when he was just a tiny infant? That was...unbelievable. "Oh...Goddess...I'm so sorry," Daye reached out to touch him, hesitated and let her hand dropped back to the table. Her natural instinct to offer solace, to comfort would not be welcome. Although, despite what she'd learned, she still didn't fully understand why.
"I can't imagine..." Daye began, but she was nearly at a loss. "How awful your life must have been."
Her eyes pricked with sympathetic tears. "There was no one...was there? No one to hold you when you cried or show you how it is between people. That's the worst thing I've ever heard. I...I wish..."
Daye wanted to tell him that she wished she could go back and take it all away, that she wanted to give him all the love and comfort he'd been denied when it was most important. She couldn't fathom how he'd ever come to be a caring person at all. He was a remarkably strong man.
"I'm amazed you know just how to help someone like me...the way you have in the past," Daye said. "I can't believe what you've been through. It doesn't matter, but...I wish there was some way I could...take your pain away...comfort you as you've comforted me."
He listened to those heartfelt words, saw the tears in her eyes, the gesture still half formed. She cared. Unfortunately what should have been a balm for a tortured soul was turned to salt in an open wound by the pity Marcus saw in those green eyes.
“It wasn’t quite the barren experience you seem to be imagining, Amanda.” He said rather tightly. “So I’m not the most ‘touchy-feely’ of people it’s not the worst that can happen by any means.” He half turned to catch the waiters attention and raised his glass for a refill.
Daye stared uncomprehending at Marcus as he waited for the waiter to refill his glass. She didn't see how he could be so coolly flippant about what had happened to him as a boy. Or how he could pretend that it only had a minor effect on him now.
"I see," she said softly. He was pointedly ignoring her now, eating his lunch and not even glancing in her direction. "Well, then, my mistake. I don't mean to force my value system on you. Just because I think there couldn't be anything worse than what you went through as a boy, that doesn't mean I have any right to burden you needlessly with it."
Daye couldn't keep he cold censure from her tone. "I'm very sorry, Marcus," she said. "It won't happen again. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable with my sympathy. I guess I don't get what it is you look for in a friend. I'll try to keep a respectful distance from now on."
To reinforce her point, and because she really was quite angry suddenly with his rebuff, Daye moved her chair as far away from him as she could and proceeded to ignore him in turn.
Marcus watched Daye’s tense movements for a second and sighed. He’d managed to do it again. Yes he was angry. He hated people digging into his life, especially his relationship with his parents. And just as he’d bitten Kate’s head off when she’d asked about his father he’d managed to do the same when Daye made an honest inquiry about one of his quirks.
“I’m sorry Daye,” Marcus reached out and covered her hand with his own. There was a quirky smile on his lips as well. After all, that gesture pretty much validated her original supposition.
Daye felt the touch of his hand on her own and she turned to look at him. She didn't even try to hide the fact that he'd hurt her with his words and actions.
Daye sighed. "It's alright," she said. "I shouldn't have pushed you. Your past, your idiosyncracies, they are yours and I have no business questioning you, right?"
Shaking his head Marcus let his thumb rub slow circles on Daye’s hand “I wouldn’t go quite that far. It’s just…it’s an emotional minefield and sometimes you hit the wrong area.”
Daye smiled softly. "Fair enough," she replied. "And I suppose when it comes to ferreting out what makes the people I care about tick, I can be a bit headstrong. So, I'm sorry too. I would hate to make you feel uncomfortable."
Daye cocked her head to one side and studied Marcus thoughtfully for a minute. "You are a study in contradictions, though."
Daye lifted their joined hands. "You're fine with touching me, but don't like for me to touch you. You're very caring, but I think that having someone care about you is something you don't take well. You're really fascinating, you know. The more I learn about you, the more I want to really get inside and see what makes you tick."
Daye laughed selfconsciously. "Which I guess is how I keep getting myself into trouble."
With attention drawn to their linked hands Marcus let go and withdrew again. “What about you. All that fire and passion hidden under layers of duty and obligation. Don’t you ever get tired of being what everyone else expects?”
Daye had to fight the sudden urge to run and hide from Marcus' pointed question. She couldn't at first decide how to respond. Marcus was giving voice to the doubts and fears that had been plaguing her more and more of late.
"I don't..." Daye began, but cut herself off with a shake of the head. He'd been honest with her, right? Even when it had caused him such discomfort to do so. How could she do any less?
"I don't know what to say to that," Daye admitted. "I...I am obligated to be certain things to certain people. I know I told you, back when I was recuperating, that I couldn't just go back to my old life, but really, Marcus, what else could I do?"
Daye didn't realize herself how bleak her tone had become. "Drew...he loves me, and he expects...he wants me to marry him. He wants to start building a life with me. Maia loves him, and she thinks of him as her father. What right do I have to turn their worlds upside down now? And why would I? Whatever I feel right now, this is what I wanted once, so why is there any reason to think I won't feel that way again when I've managed to really put the last few months behind me. If that's the case, then why should I make Drew wait while I try to sort myself out. The outcome is going to be the same in the end, and I'd only end up hurting people if I backed out now."
”Oh Daye…” He sighed. “What happens if you’re wrong. What happens if in a few months when you’ve assimilated all this, you don’t want that anymore? How much harder will it be if you’re married?”
"But that's not going to happen," Daye replied, hoping she sounded more sure than she felt. "I mean, before this whole thing with Delancre and Hyde, all I wanted was this. So, why would I feel so very differently now, right?"
"I'm going to marry Drew," Daye continued fiercely. "I have to. I have to take my life back."
That was what Marcus had advised her to do at Aspen as well as when he’d seen each other immediately after the rescue. He could hardly complain about her not following his advice. He was just sure it wasn’t good advice anymore or at least not the way she was following it. She needed to get on with her life yes but hiding in her past before Hyde and everything it had revealed was not the thing for her to do. He just didn’t know how to explain it without seeming selfish.
“Take your life back, Daye just…”
"Just what, Marcus?" Daye asked. What else was there for her to do? Did he have some idea, because she sure didn't?
*Exactly. Just what?* “I don’t know Daye. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Daye suppressed the urge to sigh. She wasn't even sure what she'd wanted him to say. She wasn't sure what she wanted at all.
"That's alright," she said. "I know you just want me to do what's best for me."
"So...I actually had intended to tell you something today...and then ask you to do something you're probably not going to really want to do."
Marcus smiled “Well, that sounds ominous.” He paused for a moment letting the tension that had built up during their conversation disipate. “So I guess information first and request second. What have you done?”
Daye took a deep breath. It was good to get off of that dangerous ground, but she wondered if she weren't just taking them to different dangerous ground with this admission.
*Oh well, here goes.* "I told Drew that I've been seeing you," she replied. "I didn't come entirely clean, but we talked. He's...okay with it."
Daye hoped she would be forgiven for stretching the truth a bit. Drew had accepted that she was going to continue her friendship with Marcus, but he hadn't been very happy about it. She actually resented the hell out of his attitude. She was trying to give him everything he needed, so why should he begrudge her an innocent friendship?
*Innocent?* her inner voice scoffed. Daye chose to pointedly ignore it.
The faint tension that Marcus hadn’t realised had been present since their last meeting vanished with Daye’s words. He doubted he and Drew would ever really get along and the little pause had been telling but he was happy at least that Daye felt she had nothing to hide about him. *Well almost nothing. I wonder what she didn’t tell him.*
“Not so ominous after all. I’m glad you talked it out. So the request?”
Daye hesitated. She knew Marcus' first reaction here was going to be to refuse.
"I...I want you to come to dinner at my place sometime soon," she said.
"Pardon?"
"I talked to Drew, like I said, and I think...well, maybe if he got to know you a little better, then he'd be less...uncomfortable with our friendship," Daye explained. "If you and he talked, then he'd see there's nothing to worry about, right?"
*Of course he would. After all, there's nothing to worry about, is there?* Marcus shook his head. He couldn’t think of a worse thing to do right now but spend time in Drew and Daye’s presence. He and Drew might be able to come to an accomodation but not under those circumstances.
“I really don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Daye had been prepared for that answer, but she wasn't about to accept it.
"Why not?" she asked directly. "I can't see why you can't at least be civil to each other, and I want you to meet Maia as well. I just don't want there to be animosity between you, Marcus. This is important to me."
Daye was going to marry Drew and if he was going to remain her friend both he and Drew needed to work something out. He didn’t think now was the right time, for any number of reasons, but if Daye wanted it Marcus didn’t see a way to say no. She had acquiesced to his wishes about telling Drew after all. It was only fair he make the effort too.
“Ok,” He took a deep breath “I’ll come.”
"Oh..." Daye had expected to have to really work to convince him. She was pleasantly surprised that he'd agreed. "That's great. Thanks, Marcus."
Daye reached out and briefly squeezed his hand, and then pulled back quickly and laughed at herself. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
*** Wednesday, June 22, 2007, 9:35 am ***
*** The Bibliophile ***
Daye stood behind the counter serving coffee and baked goods. She'd just sent Ari on a break. The shop was doing a brisk morning business, as usual. After being closed for quick repairs the beginning of the week, it was good to be back in business. Daye was seriously considering asking Kate to help her erect some shields and a non violence effect spell on the place, though. Repair costs could eat away at her bottom line if attacks continued to lay waste to the place.
"There you go," Daye said, passing a plate laden with Josh's pecan pie to a waiting college age boy who grinned at her.
"Thank you, ma'am," the boys voice held a heavy southern drawl. "Just between you and me, it's better than mama made...and that's saying something."
"Well...I'm glad you like it," Daye replied. She lowered her voice conspiratorally. "And I promise not to tell anyone else...especially not your mama."
The boy chuckled. "I appreciate yer confidence," he replied, taking the pie and heading off to a small table where a group of his friends waited. Daye shook her head and reached for a wet towel to wipe down the counter. She started to whistle as she worked.
Alessa entered the store and smiled when she heard Daye whistling. It was evident that she was enjoying herself, and not only because of the whistling, there was a deeply contented look in her face as she moved back and forth behind the counter. It was a good change to see Daye like that.
She approached the counter, and waited till Daye finished waiting on an elderly lady who wanted a book of spells for beginners. It was obvious from her questions that the woman didn’t know the first thing about magic, but Daye answered her questions with patience and guided her to the correct line of bookcases. She didn’t notice Alessa until she turned to get behind the counter again, and she smiled warmly in welcome.
"You really love this place, don’t you?" Alessa smiled, and she tip toed to kiss the other woman's cheek in the Paraguayan fashion, but she quickly pulled away. Sometimes people in America misjudged her impetuousness.
Daye turned her head and accepted Alessa's kiss easily. It was sometimes refreshing to be around people with Old World sensibilities. Kisses were rather less freely given in America.
"I do," Daye replied simply to Alessa's question. Glancing over Alessa's shoulder, she flagged down one of the waitresses. "I really do love it. I never would have guessed how much I would before I started here. Now, though...it's just about my favorite place in the whole wide world."
Daye let her gaze slide indulgently over shelves and customers before returning to Alessa's face. "And how are you this morning, dear?" Daye asked, coming around the counter as the waitress moved in to take her place.
Alessa smiled, and she sled into one of the high stools near the counter. "About fine, nothing out of the ordinary." She made an effort so her smile didn’t falter. Daye looked too well to hear about her problems.
"I went shopping the other day; bought the most beautiful dress for your wedding," she said, grinning. The dress was beautiful, and she was in real need of new clothes, with all her stuff still locked in the mansion's wardrobes. "Not that you won't outshine me, I'm sure."
Daye flushed at the mention of the wedding, but pushed her unease down. She forced a cheery smile and replied in a mocking tone, "I'm sure I'd be hard pressed to outshine most of my friends. You all are a gorgeous lot, you know."
"Come on back to the office," Daye continued, leading Alessa through the shop. She’d been playing phone tag with Alessa since finding the necklace, and had finally just let her know it was found at the White Hat meeting the day before. Alessa was here now to make sure it was the right one and then decide what to do next. Still, Daye knew that Alessa would prefer to keep this business just between them. "I want to show you that...merchandise we were discussing."
Alessa followed Daye a little uneasily, she would have preferred to beat around the bush a little more. Chit chat about the wedding, the latest gossip, the weather, anything but what had really brought her to Bibliophile. She had had little hope of getting her necklace back when she had asked Daye to pay attention to Delancre's stuff. She wondered why she was so afraid of confirming that the jewel Daye had found was her lost necklace, it wasn’t as if she needed confirmation about Delancre's involvement in her kidnapping. Not anymore. She squared her shoulders and planted a smile on her face when Daye turned and gestured for her to enter the small office.
Daye shut the door behind Alessa and let the other woman get settled in the chair before her desk. Daye moved around said desk and bent down to the floor safe beneath one corner of the rug. She flipped up the corner and quickly put in the combination, pulling the iron door up when she heard the click. She withdrew a small velvet bag that she'd placed inside a few days earlier. Daye straightened up and placed the bag on the desk.
"Here it is," Daye said to Alessa. "I'm fairly certain it's what you asked me to look for, but you should probably see for yourself."
With shaking fingers, Alessa opened the silk thread that bound the bag and shook it so its contents fell on the polished wood of Daye's desk. The fine chain fell first, followed by the ring and cross, that nestled in the middle of the silver pool. Alessa's intake of breath was clearly audible as she caressed the familiar shapes with her eyes.
"Sí. It's my necklace." She said, her voice sounded thick and her accent heavy and she had to cough to clear her throat. Her sight was blurry when she looked at her friend again. "Thank you very much, Daye. I thought I'd lost them."
Daye shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal," she replied. Then she sighed. "Okay, it was a bigger deal than I thought it would be, actually."
"How so?" Alessa asked, surprised. But her gaze quickly returned to her jewel, and she extended her hand to take it. It felt strangely warm in her fingers, and she frowned.
"It was heavily shielded. It was locked in a box in a secret room behind Delancre's study. We discovered the room by accident. It contained the most powerful and valuable artifacts that the First Elder had collected over the years. I'm not really sure why you're necklace would be among those, are you?"
Alessa frown grew deeper. She really didn’t know either, and she shook her head, "Not really, unless he just didn’t want me to find it. There were a lot of other places where I didn’t have access to, though."
"You say it was shielded? By magic?"
She passed the necklace from one hand to the other, the strange sensation was still there, and for some reason she was reluctant to put it on. For all its familiarity, the necklace didn’t feel hers anymore.
"It feels strange," she said slowly, still frowning.
Daye extended her hand towards Alessa. “May I see it?” she asked. Alessa handed Daye the necklace and Daye turned it in her hands, glancing up at Alessa. “It was locked in a box with a powerful enchantment upon it to keep it from being opened. It was a real effort to get around, let me tell you. But…there’s more magic attached to it than just that. I’d say this piece of jewelry is the centerpiece to some significant spell, Alessa. I can’t really tell you what that is, though. Kate would be more apt to be able to read it. My senses aren’t as powerfully attuned as hers.”
Daye handed the necklace back, smiling ruefully. “Sorry I can’t tell you more.”
"Bueno, I'm not surprised, Kate cast a spell on the ring… against Morris. But I don’t remember feeling anything then. It's strange that I sense anything now."
Alessa looked at the necklace in her hands again, and analyzed her feelings, something was definitely amiss there. "I can't do magic, and usually I can't feel magic… unless it's very strong and directed to me…"
"You say the ring is enchanted with a protection spell?" Daye extended her hand again, and Alessa promptly gave her the necklace. She watched with attention as Daye traced the circular shape with her fingers. "I think I can feel it, yes. Kate's magic. But there's something more here. Definitely."
"Do you think I should take it to her?" Alessa asked, and she slid the thing into its velvet bag. She didn’t feel like putting it on, not until she discovered what was wrong with it. After all, Delancre had been a proficient mage, not to mention an evil one. She didn’t want to put herself in his hands again.
Daye's eyes returned to the velvet bag in Alessa's hands. She would want to help Alessa more, but she felt she wasn’t ready for it yet. Besides, if Kate had cast a spell on the ring already, she had more probabilities of being successful than she was. She noticed her friend's reserve to put the thing on and thought it was sensible of her not to. There was something behind that necklace that escaped them. Yes, maybe Kate would be the best to deal with it.
She realized that Alessa was still waiting for her answer and gave her a small smile.
"Yes, I think that would be the best," she said.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Friday, 22 June 2007 – 9:00am
Appearing in the classifieds section of the morning newspaper…
Alessa gets her memory back
Friday, 22 June 2007 – 11:56am
A few blocks from Bonne Santé, Pasadena
Alessa had been too anxious to wait a minute longer than necessary, not with the necklace weighting on her like Sauron’s ring. She had to control herself time and again to just take it out of its velvet bag and run the fine chain through her fingers. As it was, she kept stealing quick glances to the passenger seat of her VW, where her purse laid. She remembered that Kate had told them in the last meeting that she was working on her new shop during the mornings. *Buen something…* she fumbled without looking inside the small purse and her fingers caressed the form of the bag for a second before retrieving the card Kate have given her.
“Bonne Santé,” she read aloud, taking her eyes off traffic for a second. “Well, close enough,” she read the address and took a swift turn at the corner. She wasn’t too far.
Kate picked up a huge box of potions from the floor and sat it on one of the small tables in the ‘treatment room’. Marianne had nipped out for an early lunch date with some corporate finance guy that worked in the city, he wasn’t exactly the type of man Kate imagined her flamboyant and extravagant friend being attracted to, but then Marianne was never one to be bound by convention.
Taking hold of several blue glass bottles, Kate lined them up on the shelves, their labels facing outwards so that they could be clearly identified, the gently sloping, looping characters twirling around the edges of each bottle. There wasn’t much work left to be done and the ‘grand opening’ was that Saturday. Kate could feel her excitement at that prospect building with each day that she saw Bonne Santé take shape.
Once all the contents of the box had been transferred to the tall mahogany shelves, Kate returned to the waiting area, flicking through a stack of shipping invoices that correlated with each of the brown cardboard boxes stacked on the floor by the back wall. Kneeling to check the label on one, Kate’s attention was suddenly drawn to the door as she heard a light knocking followed by the tinkle of the shop bell above as the door was pushed open.
Kate rose to her feet, a confused expression spreading across her face as she beheld her friend who appeared particularly anxious.
“Alessa?” she said, her frown deepening somewhat. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”
Alessa gave the witch a tight smile, suddenly shy of having gotten there without calling first. She tried to control herself, remembering Kate's telepathic abilities, she didn’t want to worry her more than necessary. "I'm sorry, Kate. I didn’t want to worry you… I-" she stopped, unexpectedly not sure of what to say. She looked at the worried face of her friend and then took a look around and smiled more confidently. "Wow, what a nice place you have here, Kate. Precioso."
Kate looked around the room, a faint flicker of pride dancing across her face. She was more than happy with the final result and it felt good to know that she had helped to turn an otherwise derelict and abandoned property, that had once been filled with such terrible and destructive energies into a place that would help people and that was, well, beautiful.
“I’m glad you like it,” said Kate with a gentle smile as she walked over to one of the aged leather sofas and sat down, gesturing for Alessa to join her. She could tell that something was bothering the demoness even if she appear reluctant to show it. “After such a long time, it feels a little strange that all this should be happening so quickly. We open tomorrow, it’ll be all go then… but I’m really looking forward to it. It’s like, for the first time in months I’m actually moving on with things.”
Kate regarded Alessa for a few quiet moments before placing a friendly hand over hers. “So tell me, how are you? We didn’t really have a chance to talk at the last meeting.”
Alessa gave her friend's hand a firm squeeze and smiled too. "Not really, not with the voting and all. It was just like old time meetings, wasn’t it?" She said, happily. Actually the meeting had come out quite right, much better than the first one, when everybody had been trying too hard to forgive and be forgiven. That time she had come back home too depressed and not too willing to try another meeting, the meeting the day before had been different. She felt more optimistic now, about the future of the White Hats, even if they hadn't been too interested about the whole Eye thing.
"But I've been all right, trying to get back into my life. That's what I wanted to talk to you, well, sort of that…" She took a deep breath, and chewed her lip before going on. "Do you remember the necklace you used to make the charm against Morris last year?"
Kate frowned a little, hoping that what Alessa was about to say wasn’t a resurgence of those problems that she’d had before the whole Delancre affair. Kate nodded in answer to Alessa’s question, “yes, I remember,” she affirmed, holding back the sudden rush of questions that filled her head. It was obvious that Alessa was concerned about something but it would be better if she imparted those worries in her own good time without any extra pressure.
"Good. Well, I lost the necklace during my amnesia trip. I was wearing it when I disappeared and I just didn’t have it when I came back." Alessa said, and went on quickly as not to lose her confidence. "When Daye mentioned that she was going through Delancre's stuff at the mansion… well, I thought that maybe- that it was possible that he had it, since it was him who-" She stopped talking, looking down at her hands before looking up again. "Daye found it yesterday, I just came from Bibliophile."
“Well that’s great Alessa,” said Kate with an encouraging smile, “I know how much that necklace means to you, I’m glad you have it back.” Kate glanced at her friend, her smile fading somewhat. “But there’s something else, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me?”
Alessa nodded. "Daye said that the necklace was in a box protected by a potent spell that she had some trouble breaking, it was among Delancre's more secret and valuable stuff and besides it feels strange… even I can sense it. Especially I can sense it." She turned to look at Kate again, "Daye felt magic in it, apart from yours, but she couldn’t tell me more."
She felt strangely desperate about the whole thing, she just needed her necklace back. She wanted to feel its reassuring weight on her neck, as if it would bring some of her old life back with it. "I'm sorry, I really don’t want to bother you with this now that you are so busy with your new shop and all, but could you take a look a it? I just need to know what's wrong with it, somehow I feel it's important."
“Sure, of course I can take a look at it,” said Kate as she struggled to take in all that Alessa had said. She couldn’t imagine what other kind of magic might have been applied to such an item, but if Delancre had been a part of it then it couldn’t be good. Watching Alessa as she reached into a small velvet bag to retrieve the necklace, Kate could tell that similar concerns were also weighing heavy on the demoness. She could understand her wariness, it seemed that, just when they had begun to put Delancre’s legacy behind them, some other exposition of his diabolical workings became known. There seemed no end to the things that man had been involved in.
Shivering at the feelings that the cold silver chain conveyed, Alessa started to slide it into the witch's waiting hand but stopped as a second thought struck her. "Please, Kate, if you sense any kind of threat, please let it be. It's not worth it. Only Dios knows what he could have used it for…"
Kate took the necklace from Alessa, rising to her feet as she held the charm out between her fingers, watching as the ring caught the early afternoon sunlight that flooded through the high shop windows. She could feel the faintest threads of magic woven around the necklace, unfamiliar magics too which were definitely not part of the protection spell that she had created all those months ago to ward off Morris’s intrusion into Alessa’s dreams.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite have the level of psychometric powers that Tash does,” she said, her eyes still locked on the charm as she spoke. “I can feel the magics… just. They’re very subtle, very faint. It’s obvious that whoever cast the spell didn’t want it to be detected.”
Kate took a deep breath, trying to centre her focus on the necklace but she felt wary, there was no denying it. Delancre had been in charge of some of the Watchers Council’s most accomplished mages, proficient in the blackest of magiks. Kate wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to even attempt to retrace whatever spell they had performed but glancing at Alessa, anxious, desperate for help, there was no question, she had to.
Disappearing into the treatment room, Kate returned several minutes later, her arms filled with some of the jars she had been unpacking earlier, plus some other items: a crystal ball and a small cauldron. She sat down in one of the chairs opposite Alessa, and arranged her equipment on the coffee table in front of herself.
Lacing the silver chain around her fingers, Kate held her hands over the crystal ball and closed her eyes. She cleared her mind and focused her thoughts, channelling all her energies into the necklace and those tightly woven magics that were knotted into the delicate strands of silver. Carefully she teased out the threads of the spell that bound the charm and diverted the energies into the crystal ball beneath her hands.
Kate opened her eyes, as slowly, the clear translucence of the crystal ball began to grow cloudy and opaque. Dark shapes gradually took form within the smoky core, swirling in the centre like a small, contained whirlpool. Kate held her hands, still bound together by the necklace, more firmly against the surface of the crystal ball, forcing the energies of the chain to take form within the murky depths of the quartz globe.
“Clouds and fog be parted,” she chanted quietly, turning her hands around the crystal ball, her gestures pulling the blackened shapes inside back and forth like some invisible gravitational force. “What is unclear be still, what is concealed, unveiled.”
Kate’s eyes narrowed as she continued to gaze into the swirling, cloud-filled globe. Under her direction, the shapes within began to take form, to show images of a woman crawling through the jungle her heart beating madly, her head filled with unspeakable tortures. Next a circle of mages took shape, chanting in unison around an altar, the figure of a man in the distance keeping watch with eyes so blue they pierced the soul…
A shocked gasp pierced the silence as Kate pulled back her hands as though she’d been burned. Carefully she unwound the necklace from her fingers, laying it on the table. Slowly the images inside the crystal ball began to dissolve, uncoiling until the globe was clear once more.
“Alessa.” Kate looked up at her friend, she sat practically on the edge of her seat, wary expectation etched into her pretty, Hispanic features as she waited to hear whatever she had discovered.
“I think…” Kate frowned, looking back into the crystal ball and the wisps of smoke that were vanishing with each passing second. “It was part of a spell, done some time ago too, that’s why the vibrations were so faint. Alessa, I think the necklace was used in the spell that blocked your memories on Isla Nublada.”
A sudden need for air assaulted Alessa and she realised that she had been holding her breath, as in a trance, while Kate worked her spell. She inhaled deeply, at least it gave her something to do before thinking about what Kate had said. She had known that whatever magic her necklace was imbued with, it had to do with her. No way she would have sensed it otherwise. But she had never thought about that. Somehow after Daye and Cole trying to break the spell, and Tash not being able to read her, she had assumed that she would never know what had happened that dreadful month. But now Kate had discovered this…
"Dios mio," was all she was articulate enough to say.
Kate sighed quietly, glancing up at Alessa, feeling her apprehension increase at the revelation. “The mages that did the spell to blind your memories, they probably used the necklace in the same way that I did to create the protection amulet on the ring, so that they had something personal, something that was connected to you in order to bind the spell in place.”
Twisting a lock of hair around her finger warily, Kate turned her attention back to the silver chain that lay on the table between herself and Alessa. “I know that Cole and Daye tried breaking the spell, but now that we know what the conduit is…” Kate looked up, her eyes connecting with Alessa’s, “I should be able to perform a reversal, if the spell is just one to cloud your memories then there’s a good chance that breaking it will bring them back. …If that’s what you want.”
Alessa stayed silent for a while, her thoughts whirling in her mind. She wasn’t very sure she wanted to know, but as she had told Stuart long ago… nothing was worst than not knowing.
"I want to know." She answered, her tone definite.
Kate nodded in understanding, she remembered what it was like to have someone play around with her memories. No matter how horrifying it might be to have the truth revealed, it was worse knowing that there was a whole part of your life that you just had no memory of. It was like loosing a piece of yourself.
“Okay,” said Kate, standing as she walked over to Alessa, gathering the pillows on the sofa over to one end. “I think it’ll be better if you lie down,” she said gently as she motioned for Alessa to lay back against the pile of cushions. “There’s no telling how this might work, you could get your memory back all at once, or more gradually. But either way it’s better that you’re relaxed, okay? Just try and stay calm.”
Her mouth dry and incapable of uttering a sound, Alessa did as she was told, slowly stretching over Kate's sofa. She looked at the witch with big eyes and took her hand in the last minute. Kate looked down at her with a warm smile and she felt somewhat reassured; the woman was good at what she did, she felt no qualms at placing herself in her hands, but she was afraid nonetheless, of what she'd learn.
"Thank you," she managed to say before she closed her eyes and concentrated to steady her breath and relax.
Kate smiled supportively as Alessa released her hand, returning to her seat on the other side of the coffee table. Trying to block the images that she’d seen inside the crystal ball from her mind, Kate busied herself getting together the things that she needed for her spell, occasionally stealing a glance at Alessa as she tried to settle herself, her breathing becoming slow and rhythmic.
With the small cauldron set in front of her, Kate began to mix together the various ingredients, crushing handfuls of herbs and crystalline powders into sweet smelling ointments and thick, treacle-like oils. As she worked, a thin cerulean haze slowly unfurled from the contents of the cauldron, swirling around the room like a strange kind of fog.
When everything was finished, Kate lowered the necklace into the potion. As the silver made contact with the brew, it began to hiss and boil until the chain sank beneath thick, bubbling mixture. Kate glanced at Alessa again before she placed her hands above the cauldron and closed her eyes. Directing all her energies into her hands, Kate began to chant, a soft white glow growing around her fingers and flowing into the potion.
“Unto you this ring I place,
Bind the protection and to evil give chase.
The spell that was cast upon this charm
Let it be broken, without harm
Be it for better, be it for worse
Reverse this spell, remove this curse.”
As the words left Kate’s mouth, the contents of the cauldron began to hiss and boil again, the dark blue concoction churning rapidly under the force of the spell. The pale cerulean haze grew thicker, filling the room entirely.
The images started coming slowly, and Alessa felt somehow detached, too, as if she was watching a slow motion movie, sitting comfortably in her own living room. Hyde Park, she recognised that, she remembered strolling in that beautiful park many times… it was the last conscious memory before the black void that followed. A man, there had been man hiding; a car. Delancre was in the car… he looked so pleased with himself too… Emotions started to add to the images and she could feel her own puzzlement and amazement at the arrogance of the man. She wasn’t afraid, not yet. The plane, Delancre took her to a plane… fear. Yes, she was afraid now. An island, Isla Nublada, the suite. Chance, she had waited, longed for Chance… He would come…
Images and sounds and feelings started to rush into her as the spell lost its grip on her conscience; faster and faster. The lab, the suite, the island, Delancre's supercilious manner, his overconfidence at her imminent submission, his kisses, his caresses… the cages, the lab, the demons, the tortures… Not to her, never to her, but she had seen, had heard, had felt… Fear… there was no help coming, Chance wasn’t coming…
Alone. She was alone.
Unconsciously, Alessa let out a soft sob, tears were streaming from her eyes, getting into her ears, wetting the dark hair at her temples, dampening the pillows under her head. She felt so alone, desperation grew in her. Chance wasn’t coming, nobody was coming. She was alone with the monster. "My dear…" Delancre's voice sounded in her ears, she could feel his hands and lips on her skin… Not his, never his…
Kate’s eyes flitted over Alessa’s form as her breathing became more rapid and panicked. Beads of sweat trickled over her forehead and tears rolled down her cheeks. As her part in the spell came to an end, Kate left her chair and sat by Alessa’s side, taking her hand in her own in an attempt to calm her.
“Alessa? Alessa?” she called softly, trying not to wake her too abruptly. “It’s okay,” Kate soothed gently, “you’re safe now, you’ve nothing to be afraid of…”
A new voice reached her through the haze that enveloped her. A friend's voice, her hand clasped another and she squeezed to assure herself it was really there, not part of the current of images/sounds/feelings that was flooding her. Her eyelashes fluttered and she opened her eyes, fighting to focus her sight on the concerned face of her friend, but even as she did so, the stream of newfound memories didn’t stop overflowing her mind.
"Kate?"
“It’s okay Alessa,” said Kate again as Alessa opened her eyes. She smiled comfortingly, stroking her free hand against the woman’s brow, brushing aside the strands of damp hair that clung to her sticky forehead. Kate could feel the anxiety and pain emanating from Alessa, crashing upon her own consciousness like a hard, pounding tide. The loneliness, the suffering, the loss of all hope…
“You’ll be okay,” Kate reassured her calmly, “just take deep breaths, I’ll get you something to drink.”
"No!" she almost shouted, afraid. She didn’t want to be alone, not even for a minute. "Don’t leave me alone, please." She managed to sit down and she steadied herself with her free hand, the other was still clasped to Kate's, like an anchor to safety. "I will be ok, it's already better. Just don’t leave me alone."
And it was, as she looked around the witch's charming shop, the memories' flood started to slow down, not swarming her any longer, but taking their rightful places in her mind. She followed Kate's advice and started to breathe rhythmically again and concentrated, practising the relaxing techniques of her kind. There were good memories too, if you looked for them, and she clung to those to restore her balance. Pelor, their growing friendship and confidence, the satisfaction she had felt when she had finally faced Delancre and in a way won. When she had escaped… the elating feeling of freedom when she stepped out of that crate…
"I'm all right," she said, finally, giving Kate's hand a new squeeze that was no longer desperate but showed growing confidence. "It's all right."
“You don’t have to be brave for me,” said Kate kindly, squeezing Alessa’s hand in return. She could feel the conflicting emotions in her friend, her attempt to grasp onto something secure and safe to fight away the horrible discoveries she’d made. Kate hesitated for a moment, drawing in a breath and then pausing before she spoke. “Do you… want to tell me about it?”
Alessa cocked her head, maybe if she put the memories into words she could cope better with what she had learnt, but she wasn’t ready for doing it yet. Not yet. She felt a tight, heavy pressure on her chest, emotions were bottled up inside her, but she didn’t feel she could uncork them yet. She looked at Kate and shook her head, opening her mouth to speak her denial.
"I was kidnapped at Hyde Park," she found herself saying instead. "He took me to his plane and then to Isla Nublada. There was this huge compound at the top of the mountain…" In a monotonous deflated voice she kept telling her friend about her lost month at the hands of Delancre, and as she spoke she could feel the pieces finally falling into place within her. It hadn't been so hard; it hadn't been so bad. She hadn't been tortured, or raped, or brainwashed, she clung to those thoughts as she kept talking, her voice sounding alien to her own ears. When she finally finished the emotionless recount she fell silent, her eyes downcast and her fingers twisting the fabric of her skirt.
Kate felt her body turn rigid and numb at Alessa’s flat and spiritless confession. She felt the familiarity of Alessa’s tone, cold and removed as though if she allowed herself to feel the emotions attached to that time they would completely overwhelm her.
“I understand,” said Kate quietly, glad that, to some degree, Alessa had at least begun to talk about her new memories. Glancing at the silently smouldering cauldron, Kate reached inside and removed the necklace from inside. The contents had completely burnt away leaving only the silver trinket which was warm to the touch. Kate held it for a moment before pressing it into Alessa’s open hand.
“At least now you can have this back.”
Alessa smiled and her hand closed automatically around it, its warmth reaching into her soul. She couldn’t feel any strangeness in it anymore as she ran the silver chain through her fingers. Delancre's malevolence had left it, as it was beginning to leave her life. She smiled at Kate and without hesitation she started to lift it over her head. Then she felt the cold emerald that also weighted on her chest and she stopped mid motion. Without knowing exactly why, she lowered her hands again, the necklace still in them. She slid it into its bag, and put it in her purse. Her smiled had soured to some extent, but she made an effort and looked at her friend.
"Thank you, Kate. For everything."
Kate nodded, sensing an underlying chill in Alessa’s voice despite her smile. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Alessa would have been better off if she didn’t have her memories restored, though it was too late to worry about that now.
“Anytime, you know that,” said Kate faithfully, watching Alessa with wary concern. “You know,” she began as Alessa rose to her feet, “I can leave all this for the moment, if you want to grab an early lunch or something? I don’t think you should be alone right now.”
Alessa smiled and shook her head. "Don’t worry, I won't be alone. I promised Ellis I'd have lunch with him today." She blushed a little at Kate's look and lowered her eyes. Actually she was looking forward to seeing him, she had thought a lot about what had happened last night. Things were looking bright on that side too.
“Oh… Ellis?” echoed Kate, unable to remove the smile from her face despite Alessa’s blushes. She remembered the hot-headed and charismatic Mr Longwood very well, his fondness for Alessa had been particularly strong and Kate was glad that the two of them were trying to sort out the mess that Delancre and the Hyde virus had left behind. Kate didn’t know that much about Ellis Longwood but his affection seemed genuine and right now Alessa needed someone who would love her without expecting too much in return.
“The two of you are getting along then?”
"Yeah, sort of," Alessa answered, and gave up in trying to control her blushes. In fact Ellis was beginning to be like a drug she needed to feed on once and again. His calm acceptance and undemanding ways were just what she needed at the moment. Not to mention the way he made her feel, as if all that happened was nothing but a nightmare, and things could get to be like before, as if she could be the woman she was before… "I'm still not sure about things, but we are sorting things out, I guess."
“We all need someone to lean on now and again. In times like these, you just do whatever you have to, to get you through.” Kate frowned a little as she said the words; they’d sounded a little presumptuous as though she’d picked up on something she shouldn’t have. “Anyway,” she said quickly, “if Ellis is waiting for you…”
Alessa looked at her watch and was surprised to see how late it was, she straightened and grabbed her purse. "Yes, I should be going." she took Kate's hand again, "Thank you very much, Kate." She said again, her eyes showing her gratitude more than her words could convey.
“I’m glad to help,” said Kate as she walked with Alessa to the door, “have a good time with Ellis today,” she smiled knowingly, “you deserve a bit of fun, you both do.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 22nd
Bob's Bar
3:07 pm
Alessa just sat there. The dark and smoky atmosphere of the place somehow fit her mood perfectly well, and she sighed, brushing the hair off her face. Too long. It kept entering her eyes as she stooped there, trying to avoid any stares from those around. She didn’t shorten it, though, as it also screened hers from the rest.
She brought the glass to her lips again, and welcomed the burning feeling of liquor rushing down her throat, but missed the numbing feeling of it getting into her bloodstream. She had been able to get drunk. Once. She was failing miserably now. Damn newfound Verbati awareness, she needed to master it. Inés could get drunk after all so there must be a way to get round it. She set the now empty glass on her table with a loud bang, and wasn’t surprised to see it break in her hand; she looked around, but nobody was paying her any attention. Not after that first time.
Alessa looked at the blood on the broken pieces of glass, it seemed that glasses were indeed liabilities in her hands. She kept breaking them. Chuckling softly, she took a little shard off her skin and watched the cut close neatly. Chance and Delancre had needed napkins to restrain the blood, she thought, and chuckled again.
Chance and Delancre.
Nice thought. Even nicer now.
Kyle stepped into Bob’s and took a long look round for Zax. The demon and his cohorts had a strange schedule; he could never be sure where or when he’d see them. He hadn’t seen Zax in a few days now, and with Cole in England he was getting bored and lonely.
He didn’t see the towering warrior-demon, but he did spot something else that caught his attention. Alessa. With a lot of empty glasses before her. And what looked like an unconscious demon sitting opposite her table. A challenger? *Looks like he lost…* Kyle guessed, considering Alessa’s surprising alertness.
Catching Bob’s eye, Kyle raised his eyebrow in question and nodded at the demoness. In return, Bob just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Putting a cigarette in between his lips, Kyle sighed, walked over to her table, casually pushed the demon out of the chair and onto the ground with a thump and dropped into the chair himself.
“You know, you’re in here almost as much as me.” He opened with, lighting his cigarette. “News on old whatshisname…Morris? I’m guessing not good news…” The Kaoshian added, looking at the number of empty glasses.
"Now, thank you, Kyle." Alessa said, with a surprisingly clear voice for the amount of alcohol she had drunk. "Chance, Delancre and Morris. That's the nicest I could manage, yes."
It was right at that point that Kyle realised several things. One, she wasn’t here looking for him. Two, she wasn’t drunk at all. And three, and most importantly, she was probably trying to drown her sorrows. If in this state she was anything like him, the last thing he would want was himself dropping in all insensitively. *Crap*, he thought, realising his error, *time to find an available exit*.
“Ah, I…uh, I, uh, I see. Well…err…hmm…I’m going to get a drink…” Kyle shot out of his seat perhaps a tad too eagerly and walked hastily over to the bar, taking long drags from his cigarette. *Stupid, stupid, stupid*, he berated himself, *you’ve been there often enough to know that somebody with that many drinks and that look sitting all alone does NOT want company. Especially yours.*
But as he ordered his drink, he couldn’t help but wonder about what had driven Alessa to drink. He knew all three of the names she had mentioned had been her lovers of some description, so it was obviously something about that. A part of him wanted to ask, but another part of him reminded himself of how he felt when people asked about him when he was like that. And he remembered he felt like punching them. And then getting another drink.
Yes, another drink. That’s what Alessa needed and wanted more than anything else. As Bob slid his own beer over, Kyle ordered another and returned to the table with them both.
“Uhh…here. Thought you might want a drink.” He said lamely, plonking hers in front of her and remained standing uncomfortably. “I mean, another drink…”
Alessa looked from the beer up to the Kaoshian, and shrugged. She didn’t think it'd do any good, but it wouldn’t do any bad either. "Sure, thanks," she said, taking the bottle and giving it a long sip. It was cold and the taste was good, she'd settle for small miracles anyway.
She noticed that Kyle was still standing there, looking awkward enough and she sighed, pushing another chair away from the table with her leg. "Sit down, if I can't get drunk at least I could enjoy the company. It'll keep others away."
“My company’s enjoyable? When did this happen?” Kyle frowned and dropped into the offered chair, taking another long drag on his cigarette and washed it down with a long swig of beer. Briefly, he considered offering Alessa a smoke, but decided not to push it. Besides, he only had a couple left. “So…um, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t getting drunk a vital part of…well…getting drunk?”
"Very clever, Dr. Watson." Alessa said, raising her bottle in a mock salute before giving it another long sip. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve before talking again. "But it seems my body is fighting the effects of alcohol out of my system." She sighed, "I guess I’ll just have to learn to drink again. It'll be a tad too late, though. I wanted to get drunk today"
“What’s the rush?” As soon as he said it, Kyle winced. He knew full well what the rush was. “Forget I said that. What I meant was, you don’t seem the ‘run out and get wasted in a dingy bar somewhere’ type.” He scratched the back of his head. “Uh, that is, not that I want to pry or anything…” *None of your business, moron. Just shut up*. Rather than saying anything else, the demon just trail trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, taking long drags and long swigs.
Alessa stayed silent for a few seconds too, thinking about his words. He was right, which only frustrated her even more. But after missing her lunch with Ellis earlier she had just wanted to… what? Forget? Ironic, since she had wanted that badly to remember. No. It wasn’t that. She guessed she had chosen Bob's because it somehow connected her to Chance. Who had not gone for her.
She looked at Kyle, smoking uncomfortably in front of her. He still reminded her of her lover, and she closed her eyes to fight the feeling of hopelessness that invaded her. He had not come, even if he had been alive when she had been taken. And then Delancre. Well, Bob's was as far as she could think of a man as Delancre. Who she had vowed never to let him touch her… and ended doing exactly that, and more. Dios, what would she do? She just couldn’t go on, she needed to get drunk.
"I remembered what I had forgotten." She told Kyle, and then at his puzzled expression she added, "when I was on Isla Nublada" He didn’t want to pry, but he had in some way asked. She was glad to have someone to talk to, who wouldn’t probably think badly of her for ‘running out and getting wasted in a dingy bar somewhere’. She doubted he'd even care.
Kyle didn’t know much about what happened on Isla Nublada, but he knew enough for a slow realisation to dawn. “Oh, right…well, um, if you don’t want to talk about it, I’ll just – actually it’ll probably be better if I just left.” He put his half-finished drink down and stood up.
"Afraid to hear all the gory details, are we?" She said indifferently, but she eyed his form with intent eyes. It may be easier to talk to Kyle, sometimes it was easier to talk to strangers than to friends. Not that he was a stranger, but he certainly wasn’t a friend either. Not yet, at least.
The Kaoshian demon didn’t say anything for a long while, just met and held her gaze, but then in a surprisingly quiet and steady voice he spoke. “No. But are you afraid to tell them?”
"It's not the details that haunt me now." She shrugged again, and looked pointedly toward the chair Kyle had just left. "They weren’t all that gory either, not to me, at least. Nothing actually gruesome happened to me, I wasn’t raped or tortured or brainwashed. Just kept there, like a bird in a golden cage, waiting for a rescue that didn’t come."
"Delancre had other plans for me, which Hyde finally helped him fulfil."
Kyle looked at the chair and pondered for a long while, before finally sitting back down. He didn’t say anything, didn’t think he needed to or should, he just listened.
girls' night out - june 25
*** Monday, June 25, 2007 ***
“Well, a male strip show is traditional... but, hmm, maybe not. I mean, with the way Daye was during Hyde...”
“I guess not, the last thing she needs is reminding of all that… Hmm, there are some great clubs downtown, we could start from there… it just- it needs to be fun, it’s her last night of freedom remember.”
Tash laughed. “Freedom? I think she’s had enough of that for a while. Ok, time to get off the subject of Hyde. So, should we just go out to dinner somewhere? Or maybe we should do something different? Like... go to one of the amusement parks, or charter a boat or something. What do you think?”
“Well you only do this once…” Kate paused, “if you’re lucky. But if it’s just the three of us… a boat seems kind of excessive, plus once you’ve had an ancient aquatic squid beast try to kill you the ocean loses some of its appeal. Besides, the simplest ideas are always the more fun. Get the right combination of cocktails and scantily clad muscle bound surf gods and we’re onto a winner… Gods, I love Los Angeles!”
“So, you think a place near the beach? Sure, should be fun. It has to have the ‘right’ atmosphere though.”
“I think I know the perfect place,” nodded Kate.
*****
Kate and Tash watched Daye’s face as they led her towards the classy restaurant. They’d booked a table on the balcony overlooking the beach, and the moonlight reflected off the water as they were seated by a young man whose well-toned muscles rippled beneath a thin cotton shirt, revealing a physique that would be the envy of a Greek god.
“Cocktails and fresh seafood,” Tash grinned, “The best combination of food and drink known to man.”
Kate laughed, coyly checking out the talent with a slight grin. “And the view isn’t half bad either.” At Daye and Tash’s amused expression’s Kate laughed again, turning to the bride-to-be. “Well this is the first rule you have to learn as a married woman, it’s okay to look so long as you don’t touch.”
Daye laughed. It felt good to be out with her friends, and to have everything really back to normal. Unlike the day they’d gone dress shopping, there was no tension now. At least, not on the part of her friends. Daye hoped they couldn’t tell how much she was worrying about the upcoming wedding, and in particular her own confusing feelings about it.
“Well, I think I can manage that at least,” Daye said to Kate, glancing at the studly waiter.
“They sure do know how to grow them out here,” said Kate thoughtfully before yanking her attention away from the young hunk. “Of course, I only have eyes for one man,” she smiled, sipping at her strawberry daiquiri. It felt so good to actually enjoy herself without all the baggage she’d been carrying around lately. A part of her had been secretly loathing this wedding but now that she and Daye had begun to properly repair their friendship her feelings were much changed.
Catching sight of Daye rolling her eyes Kate nudged her in the ribs. “I know, I know. I’m sickeningly in love, what can I say? Just you wait until you’re married,” she said to Daye with a secret smile. “You’ll learn.”
Tash watched the two women with a sense of relief. She wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but something had changed dramatically in the way the two dealt with each other. They must have had that talk she’d suggested to Daye.
Her own love life was looking bright these days, too, she had to admit. The pain of losing Victor was still strong and fresh, but as she spent more and more time with Onyx she felt increasingly that she’d somehow managed to find the next best thing to having him back. Onyx was warm, caring, funny... and great in bed. Tash looked up with a guilty start as she realised that she’d been daydreaming, no doubt with a stupid cheesy smile on her face, and someone had asked her something. Both Kate and Daye were looking at her with amused expressions and Tash dipped her head in embarrassment.
“Sorry, I was thinking about Onyx... you know how it is. Um, what did you say?”
Kate raised an eyebrow in speculation, brushing her long red curls from her eyes as she took another sip from her cocktail. She’d been surprised to say the least to hear of Tash’s ’relationship’ with the necromancer’s demonic nursemaid. It seemed her friend had developed something of a partiality for demons when it came to her love life. But despite Tash’s obvious joy, Kate couldn’t help but feel concern. There was just something about Onyx’s ‘innocent’ exterior that made her doubt the demon’s sincerity. She just hoped that Tash knew what she was getting herself into.
“I said it would probably be pushing our luck.” At Tash’s blank expression, Kate rolled her eyes and pointed towards the menu. “We were about to order.”
“Oh, right.” Tash perused the menu and made her choice of succulent scallops, then ordered a second margarita for herself.
“Another drink, Daye? It is your hen party, after all.” Tash turned to the waiter and nodded to Daye’s half-empty glass, “And another of those, thanks. In fact, just keep the drinks coming all night.” She flashed the waiter a broad grin, which grew even broader at his answering smirk.
“Is it hot in here or is it just him?” laughed Kate as all three of them watched their gorgeous waiter head back to the bar. “I am telling you girls, after a night of alcohol and looking at that Galen won’t know what hit him when I get home.”
“Hmm,” Tash murmured. Visions of upcoming scallops were replaced by visions of her eating them from Onyx’s breasts and belly, sliding the juicy morsels of seafood along her flesh before sucking them into her mouth and-
“What? Sorry… oh yes, he’s looking very yummy.” Tash dug Daye gently in the ribs. “I daresay Galen won’t be the only one being attended to tonight, eh Daye? You and Drew could get some pre-wedding night practise in.”
Daye blushed. “Actually, uhm… no,” Daye replied, not sure why she was about to go into this, but then again, these were her best friends in the world. Surely, she could trust them and talk to them about at least some of the things that were bothering her. *Not about Marcus, though,* her inner voice warned. Tash and Kate both had strong opinions about the necromancer and Daye did not want either of them to know how ambiguous her feelings about the man had become recently.
“No?” asked Kate, placing her cocktail down on the table, with a curious frown as she turned her attention to her blushing friend. Daye looked troubled to say the least and Kate could feel her tormented emotions flooding out from her in waves.
“Are you…” Kate glanced at Tash momentarily before narrowing her eyes upon Daye. “Don’t tell me you’re doing the whole celibacy thing,” she shook her head. “It never works, take it from me. Everything seems great until the night before and then BAM! You end up drinking too much, get incredibly horny and wind up at it like sex-starved teenagers in some casino restroom.” Kate blushed a little herself, finishing off her drink, “…at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
The tequila had started to kick in, and Tash found herself giggling at Kate’s imagery. But she quickly pulled herself together at the deepening turmoil she felt from Daye.
“You mean you’re really…? Um, is everything okay with you and Drew?” Tash asked, covering Daye’s hand with her own. “I mean, this whole wedding thing has been a little fast and there was a lot you two had to get aired. You… you did air it all, didn’t you?”
Daye looked down at where Tash’s hand rested on her own and sighed. “I don’t know... I’ve tried to talk to him, Tash, I really have.”
Daye paused, picking up her drink and taking a long, slow sip. She held the glass in her free hand and swirled the bright green liquor around as she thought carefully about what to say. “At first, I told myself that things would be all right if I just was patient. I told myself that eventually he’d open up with me and I could open up with him then too. But, it just doesn’t seem to be getting any better. All he wants to think about is the wedding. Sometimes I think, with the way he’s talking about it, that he thinks some kind of miracle is going to occur when we take our vows, like there’s actual magic in the ritual of it or something. And I... I can’t talk to him about this. He’s so excited, so happy... I can’t mess it up for him, you know? So I’m just trying to be as happy as he is.”
Kate’s expression faltered as she beheld her weary friend. She knew what it was like when the person you loved shut you out of their emotions. Galen had done the very same thing after Emma’s death, pushing her away, pretending everything was fine when it plainly wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry,” Kate said gently, wrapping a supportive arm around Daye’s shoulders. Obviously she and Drew were bound to have issues after everything that had happened. It was the main reason why Kate had been so surprised to hear about their wedding, but she’d always assumed that the two of them had talked things through at some point. Marriage was a big step after all, and one that could only be taken together if it was to work.
“Maybe things will be better,” said Kate optimistically though the tone of her voice betrayed her own doubts, “but only if this is what you both really want. Gaia knows there’ll be enough pressures once you’re married without starting out that way.” Kate rubbed Daye’s bare shoulder soothingly. “The two of you really do need to talk about this before you make a lifetime commitment.”
Tash gazed down at her nearly empty glass, and watched as the waiter slid a fresh margarita in front of her. Sighing, she picked it up and drank deeply. “I have to agree, Daye. I really thought you must have talked already. You seemed so happy about the whole thing. You know… it’s not too late to ask Drew if you can maybe take a little more time. Give yourselves the room to make things right before you get married. And if he’s not opening up to you, perhaps you should take the first step. He may not want to listen, but talking about things is always better than not talking.”
“Every time I’ve tried to even broach this subject, he either cuts me off or runs away,” Daye replied sadly. “I know we need to talk, and believe me, I’d like it to be before we vow to be together forever before the gods and all our friends and family, but... the wedding is in five days. I... we... I can’t postpone it now. I can’t even suggest that. Drew would be so hurt. He’s been hurt enough. I won’t hurt him any more. I just won’t.”
Kate shared a sceptical glance with Tash before turning back to Daye. “I can understand that Daye, I really can. The both of you have been through so much that you just want to hold on to this little piece of happiness, but do you really think that by not talking things through it’ll make things better in the long run? I know you don’t want to upset Drew, but isn’t there the chance that-”
Kate didn’t want to go on, she didn’t want to voice the concerns that bounced around in her head, that no doubt Daye was thinking herself anyway. That maybe Drew wouldn’t be able to deal with everything that had happened in the past few months, that maybe he would forever resent Daye and the things she had done until that resentment turned into hate.
“Drew loves you, Daye, I know he does. I’ve seen it, and feelings like those don’t just vanish. He has always wanted what was best for you, why should that have changed now? Tash is right, if you’re not ready you could take time out, wait a few months until things are better. Surely Drew would understand eventually, if you’re going to spend the rest of your lives together you have to be honest about how you feel.”
Daye wanted so very much to do just what Kate was suggesting. She just couldn’t bring herself to. “I... no, Kate, I can’t .I... Drew wants this wedding so very much,” she replied. “If we can just get through that, if I can just show him... just prove that I’m not going anywhere, that what happened when I had Hyde was... it was an aberration, then...you know...”
Daye paused and stared out at the ocean for a few minutes. “Once I’ve said my vows, once he knows that I’m committed to him, I think he’ll feel secure and then... then we can start to talk about things again. He’s still so unsure. I have to regain his confidence. I think if I were to push him now, it would be disastrous.”
Kate couldn’t help but feel that if Drew wasn’t certain of Daye’s commitment then the last thing he should be doing was marrying her. Kate shared another uneasy glance with Tash before squeezing Daye’s shoulder supportively. “Well… I guess you know Drew better than I do. If this is what you really want…”
“It’s what I have to do,” Daye replied succinctly. She glanced up as the waiter approached the table with their salads. “And we’ve not come here to talk about serious things, we’ve come to ogle waiters and drink entirely too much.”
“Can I get something different?” Daye asked, indicating the drink before her. “A vodka... straight... preferably Russian. Armadale, if you have it.”
Daye didn’t consider the implications of asking for the particular spirit she’d learned to enjoy while spending time with Marcus. She just knew that the strong, smooth liquor would help her to stop worrying for a while and that was what she really wanted to do right now. The blonde waiter was smiling directly at her, and Daye could only assume he’d heard her quip about ogling.
“Whatever you want,” he said. “What about you ladies? You okay with what you’re drinking?”
Tash smiled half-drunkenly at the man. “Doing great, thanks.”
She caught Kate’s eye once more, and the two shared a small shrug. More and more it was obvious that this wedding wasn’t such a great idea – at least, not yet – but there was only so much she and Kate could say to Daye before things grew worse. If Daye wouldn’t be dissuaded, the least they could do was to stay close and support her as much as possible.
*Drew too,* Tash thought. *Who does he have to talk to, if not Daye? No wonder things aren’t looking so good for them. Maybe I should…*
Putting on a bright smile for Daye, Tash patted her hand. “Right, ogling waiters and drinking too much it is, then. Hmm, and dresses – you know, Onyx won’t tell me what she’s planning to wear, but she assures me it’ll go with our bridesmaids outfits. I have a feeling she’s planning something special.”
Daye took up the thread of conversation and they began to talk of other, less serious things as they ate and consumed their combined weight in alcoholic beverages. Hours later, after making a spectacle of themselves doing the Macarena on a nonexistent dance floor, the three women stumbled out of the restaurant with the help of the blonde Adonis waiter.
“Shhh...” Daye put a finger to her lips and giggled. The street was dark and the waiter was watching them with an obviously amused smile. “Where to now?” Daye asked, leaning against a light pole. Her friends were dancing and weaving before her nearly crossed eyes.
“S’early yet. Mus’ be somewhere we can go. How ’bout a nightclub?” Tash slurred.
She leaned against Kate and rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder, attempting to whisper into her ear but she could have been heard half a block away. “Should we take her to a strip joint now, d’you think?”
Kate looped her arm through Tash’s in an attempt to keep the huntress on her feet while also trying to do the same for herself as the three women stumbled on wobbly legs and high-heeled shoes down the promenade. “OOOOohhh,” said Kate with a conspiratorial tone, “Yes, yes, what we need right now is lots of oiled up muscular men in things, um thongs.”
She giggled uncontrollably, digging her hand into her small beaded purse as she pulled out a roll of dollar bills. Kate smiled widely, scrunching her nose in delight. “Guess who came prepared?”
Bump In The Night
***Monday, June 25, 2007 -- 8:00 p.m.***
Nights in Chinaka’s house were still scary without Parasol.
Granted. Knowledge is power. But for Chinaka, learning more about the things bumping in the night didn’t soothe her soul. In the year and a half since Parasol bid her safe and farewell in front of their art gallery, African Heart, Chinaka had learned quite a bit about the world that flourished at night. After Parasol disappeared, seemingly dropping into oblivion, Chinaka found a book in Parasol’s bedroom – “Phoe’s Listing.” Prodded by the find and information supplied with no small effort from Drew and that redhead he thought he was in love with, Chinaka girded her courage to try and find her aunt. Often, she felt woefully alone in this endeavor, but her guilt at how ungratefully she had behaved toward her Auntie Parasol and the niggling worry that Parasol had been destroyed, urged her places she never thought she would go.
She’d wandered down dark alleyways at midnight to buy black market pan-dimensional publications from ooky subcreatures with bad skin and attitudes. The first time she navigated LA’s back end throughways, she’d never uttered “Walk with me, Jesus” as many times in her life as she did delicately picking her way around dirty puddles toward God knows what destination and outcome for a book specifically on the Cadre. Also…the last time she wore heels in alleys after midnight.
She hired a highly recommended demonic private investigator cheesily calling himself Mr. Coeur de Sangfroid to pick up a thread – any thread – on Parasol’s whereabouts. In his second floor walk-up office off Hollywood and LaBrea, the décor of which was a ghastly combination of mahogany and vomitous red velvet, Mr. Sangfroid tried to convince her to pay his entire fee up front. Chinaka realized that he not only had hackneyed Dracularian taste, but also was more a weasel than a demon. She dropped half his fee on the monstrosity he called a desk and told him he’d get the rest when he came up with something she could use. After the string of losers she dated in college, weasels she knew she could handle.
She scoured the LA streets in her MG well after dark hoping to see something out of the ordinary, something she would never have paid attention to before, to point her to Parasol.
Other than emboldening her with the full armor of God, these tasks were to no avail. No leads. No suspects. No Parasol. Bravery alone in the night without even the smallest reward had proven disheartening.
And nights in her house were still scary without Parasol.
Then Drew showed up at her gallery.
**
Doorbell rings.
Door flies open.
*Hehe,* Drew thinks, *My finger’s still on the doorbell.*
Drew’s grin reaches the aching hub of his heart and wonders *Where’s the hurt?*
Chinaka in the doorway. Her smile a mile wide. Her teeth so white. Almost fluorescent in the so-black-it’s-navy-blue silk of her skin.
“Drew!!” She’s jumping up and down. “Get in here!” she orders. “You won’t believe what I found. You brought pizza! You’re a god. I’m starving.”
*Chinaka’s hand in mine, pulling me in her house. Amanda used to greet me like th… Amanda wrapped around Marcus. Aaaahhhh. Theeerre’s the hurt. Where’d you go? I miss you when you’re gone.*
Drew’s grin fades.
Chinaka doesn’t see.
**
Chinaka paced furiously in front of the fireplace, recounting what they had spent the last couple of hours hunting down. “And so this Cadre, this box that this slave owner…”
“Beaufort…” Drew interjected, looking up from the volume he was reading. He had a serious lounge going on her comfy couch.
“Yeah. Beaufort. Okay. Okay. So he made this box from the skin and bones of the arm of one of his slaves…” Chinaka was nearly spinning with excitement.
Drew sat up and grabbed his glasses and looked for one of the many dusty volumes littering her coffee table to find the slave’s name. “John Annis…”
“Yeah. Annis. So Beaufort makes this artifact from John Annis’ flesh and bone. After he tortures him. And ewww.”
Chinaka suddenly stopped pacing and fell silent. Drew looked up from his book over his glasses to see his friend tearing up.
“Chinaka, what’s the matter?”
Chinaka looked at Drew and shook her head slightly in disbelief.
“My aunt was alive when barbarism like making tchotchkes out of people was commonplace. I didn’t even think about things like that when she was here.” She shook her head harder. “I was so selfish.”
Drew could feel her regret and it spun seamlessly into his own. His posture softened in sympathy. “Aww, Chinaka,” was all he felt he should offer as he caught her eyes. He saw gratitude and pleasure for his company there and was himself grateful.
The room was silent except for the pops of the logs in the fireplace.
Chinaka suddenly spun away and continued pacing in front of the fireplace just as excitedly as before. “But before Annis dies, he forgives Beaufort…”
Drew chuckled at the way Chinaka caused the sudden change of mood in the room. It was just what was necessary. Both of them were in danger of breaking out in regretful sobs.
Drew picked up on her excitement. Things were coming into focus. “…and then things start to happen on Beaufort’s plantation. Weird things. Magic things. And so he takes the box to…”
“…this old Haitian woman named, named…” Chinaka started snapping her fingers to try and make the name come to her.
Drew reached over the pile of books on the couch to his notes. “…Lucky. Lucky Prosper.”
Chinaka stopped dead still. “That’s her name? Lucky Prosper. Are you sure?”
Drew looked at his notes again and nodded. "Uh-huh."
“Drew! Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”
“Yep. Lucky Prosper. I can find the cite if you need me to. Why? What’s so impor…”
“Nevermind. I’ll tell you in a minute. Okay. So he goes to this woman Lucky to get the lowdown on what exactly the artifact is…does…whatever…and Beaufort just disappears…right?”
Drew’s blood was pumping. He was an academic and what do academics like to do? Research and conclude, of course. They were on the right track to something – he could feel it. He pulled the proper volume from the pile and paraphrased. “And all the authorities can get from the locals is that nobody saw nuttin’, not even Beaufort in their town. Even though he told the charges at his plantation exactly where he was going…”
Chinaka continued, shoving her index finger in Drew's direction to make the point, “…but not why he was going to Haiti.” Chinaka stopped pacing and fell to her knees on the other side of the coffee table reaching over and grabbing the volume from Drew. Chinaka continued paraphrasing. “But all the locals knew what happened. They just weren’t going to tell the authorities that…”
“Hey! That book’s delicate,” Drew whined and gently took back possession, grinning to beat the band, “and I believe I was in the middle of something. The locals knew better than to tell the authorities that some rich white man disappeared in an old black geechie woman’s magic shack of hell.”
Chinaka clapped her hands. Oooh, they were close to the first lead she’d had on Parasol in nearly 2 years.
“Don’t make me grab that book back Drew. Gimme.” Drew feigned disappointment as he gingerly handed the volume to Chinaka.
Chinaka looked at the volume, but the account seemed to stop dead at the locals bullshitting the authorities. She was crestfallen that this may be as far as they get.
Drew pulled a volume from behind his back, cleared his throat and continued. “The locals told the story amongst themselves that…”
Chinaka playfully cut her eyes at Drew.
“I repeat…The locals told the story amongst themselves that, though no one saw what happened, the sounds coming from Lucky’s shack that day were from Hades itself. They heard Lucky say…and I quote… ‘This thing, this here box, it calls itself the Cadre d’Ames…’”
Drew looked at Chinaka across the table and raised an eyebrow and continued. “So it’s named. The same thing that Parasol was looking for.”
Chinaka’s was breathing hard through her nose, afraid if opened her mouth, she’d scream with joy.
“…and,” Drew continued, “they also heard Lucky ask ‘The man who got his parts in this box? Was he righteous? Did God himself smile down on him at the hour of his death?’”
Now Chinaka had to talk. “Well, yeah. I imagine God would think kinda highly of someone who forgave his racist barbaric torturing knick-knack maker!!”
Drew chuckled and traced the passage in the book with the earpiece of his glasses. “The locals further heard Lucky say ‘Oh yeah, sinner. You are going to hell. You’re just too faulty to know it.’ Good word that.” Drew looked up at Chinaka beaming at him from the other side of the table. “Faulty. Too faulty to know that by his actions, he’s damned himself.” His own actions toward Amanda leapt to Drew’s mind but looking at Chinaka glowing at him, he pushed it to the back. This was no time to bring morose to the party. He and Chinaka were onto something.
Drew put his glasses back on and went back to the text. “Oooh.”
“Oooh?”
“Oh my, yeah. Oooh. Here’s a good one. The locals further recount that they heard Lucky say to Beaufort and I again can’t help but quote ‘Oh yes, sinner. You turned your backside to God’s face kissing on the devil’s privates.’”
Chinaka and Drew looked at each for a second in amused horror and said in unison, “OUCH!”
Chinaka shook her head with giggly glee. “Oh, hell, I gotta remember that one. I mean, there must be some occasion when I can use that.”
Drew found himself laughing hard and out loud and kicked into the game. “Must be…some…instance…” He could barely catch his breath he was laughing so hard.
Chinaka fell back in peals of throaty laughter continuing the train of thought. “…when some asshole turns his…ahahahaha…‘backside’ to God’s…ahahaha…”
“…face…oh my …who…would…actually…do…that. I mean, it’s just…rude.” Drew struggled for air. “I mean demonic privates kissing happens – doesn’t it?”
*Amanda.*
And then Drew felt all the air go out of the room.
*****
This time, *I see his smile fade.*
Drew blanches.
His knees go wobbly.
He falls stricken to the couch.
*The joy. The joy. That’s what’s different about Drew. The joy is gone. It was just here. Joy was here.*
Drew puts his face in his hands.
And he weeps.
**
Chinaka got to her feet, looking at the man on her couch weeping into his hands. Weeping so hard that tears were spilling through his fingers, down his wrist and absorbing into his shirtsleeve. Though making very little sound, his sobs wracked his broad shoulders. They angled and bent with despair. Pain rippled off of him in circles so that the room rang emotion. Spilling on the floor. Wafting into the air. Curling into dusty balls in the corners.
“Oh my God. Drew?” Chinaka couldn’t move. She couldn’t move to him through the thick pain. It was like quicksand gobbling up everything happy and material and real that had just been present in the room.
He sat there and sobbed.
Chinaka let him.
The logs crackled in the fireplace.
“I can’t touch her, Chinaka.” His voice was flat, muffled by the hands that still surrounded his face. Chinaka could see his tears seeping through his fingers. It was the saddest sight she’d ever seen – this beautiful man seething pain like this. She still couldn’t bring herself to move to him, but held her ground lest his pain push her farther from him.
“We’re getting married in five days…,” he lifted his face from his hands and looked unfocused at Chinaka, “and I can’t touch her.”
Drew continued in an almost matter-of-fact tone, gazing in Chinaka’s general vicinity. “I keep having mind movies, Chinaka. Amanda in all measure of…All manner of … With this man. With that. With herself. With me.” He focused on Chinaka. “With demons.”
A quiet “Ahhh” escaped Chinaka’s lips as she remembered what had been the topic before Drew collapsed.
“I know it wasn’t her fault. She was infected with this… It made her different. Made her do things – want things – that the Amanda I know – love – my Amanda would never…”
Drew’s voice turned hard.
“But I see this infection,” his lip curled cruelly on the word, “that took her still there. Even if it’s not there, I see it. I see her then and how she was.”
His voice turned sorrowful and tears slid silently down his cheeks. “God, Chinaka – when she took me, had sex with me, when she was infected – she was like something…something…other. And God help me, Chinaka, I loved it. I mean, I loved her before…but whatever was infecting her… And the idea that she gave that to others, and they loved it. I can’t get it out of my head. I told her that we shouldn’t sleep together until after we’re married, so it’ll be more special…but that’s a lie. A very convenient but oh,” he blew out a painful breath, “oh, so necessary lie. I can’t touch her. I can’t talk to her. I can barely look at her without seeing that face…that devouring desiring face she had with me…with so many others…with Marcus. Like I was nothing, Chinaka. Like I meant nothing.”
His tears dried. He pulled his hands up seeming to find great interest in the lines and swirls there and continued like he was reading the phone book. “And now that she’s cured, she’s been meeting with Marcus and lying to me about it. She told me eventually, but it…it… She wants to be friends with him. She wants me to be friends with him. I said I would, but Chinaka – I can’t. I can’t. Marcus has an agenda and I’m not on it.”
Chinaka felt the pain in the room ebb away enough for her to free herself and make a few tentative steps toward Drew. He took no notice of her. He straightened his back, turned his face toward the ceiling and blew out a long breath of air.
Turning his face from the ceiling to the fireplace, Drew added drily, “And it doesn’t matter what the truth is -- I don’t believe for a minute she wants to be just friends with Marcus.”
Chinaka manage to slog to about a foot away from Drew. Standing beside him, she put the tips of her fingers on his shoulder. He looked up to her as if he was surprised she was there.
“That’s the first time I’ve said that…any of that – even to myself.” He blew out another breath and reached across to his shoulder to touch just his fingertips to hers. “Thank you. Dear, dear Chinaka. Dear friend, thank you.”
He blew a last cleansing breath and looked again up into the soft black velvet of Chinaka’s pretty face and the caring of her almond eyes and believed them saviors.
“Now” he winked at her, “weren’t we on the trail of the Cadre? And who is this Lucky Prosper?
daye hires a new manager
*** Tuesday, June 26, 2007, 1:24 pm ***
Daye rubbed the back of her neck and rolled her shoulders, sighing softly. The wedding was four days away and directly following; she was supposed to go off to beautiful Tahiti with Drew. Aside from the pit of anxiety the very thought caused to lodge in her stomach, Daye had another, perhaps more pressing problem. She had yet to find the right candidate to serve as manager of The Bib and without that, how could she possibly leave town?
“I don’t think Drew’s going to be all that keen on me canceling the honeymoon in favor of the shop, “ Daye mused. “There’s got to be someone. Goddess, just send me the right person.”
Daye had been interviewing for weeks, but not one candidate struck just the right cord with her. She needed to find someone she’d be comfortable leaving her ‘baby’ in the hands of. That’s why this was taking so long. Daye didn’t feel as if The Bib were just a business. The shop and the people who both worked and patronized it, were important to her. She couldn’t leave them with just anybody.
“Boy do I wish Mrs. W was still available,” Daye muttered. She knew that if it came down to it, she could call Mrs. Wyldling to take care of things while she was away, but she really didn’t want to do that. The older woman had enough on her plate trying to rebuild the Los Angeles Watchers and make up for all the pain that had been meted out by Delancre and his cronies. Not to mention hunting down the remainders of Delancre’s army for deconditioning and rehabilitation and whatever supporters still lurked in the woodwork for punishment. Daye had actually promised to lend a hand with all of that, but things had sort of spiraled out of control with the shop and the wedding, and she’d barely had any time to check in with Alicia or offer any real assistance.
There was a soft knock on her office door, which brought Daye out of her self pitying funk. She plastered on a smile and called out, “Come on in.”
Pam, the senior counterperson, poked her head around the door. “Uhm…Miss Blaise?” she said.
“Yes, what is it?” Daye replied.
“There’s a gentleman here…he says…well, he says he’s your new manager,” Pam responded, looking a bit confused. “I…I wasn’t sure…but…I thought that you were still interviewing.”
“I am, yes,” Daye nodded. She was intrigued by Pam’s statement. “Go ahead and show this man in. I’ll see if I can’t clear this up.”
Pam nodded and slipped away. A few minutes later she opened the door again and let a smartly dressed man into the office. “Thanks, Pam,” Daye said. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Please, have a seat, Mr…?” Daye indicated that the man should slip into the empty chair before her desk.
“Isley, Evan Isley,” the man replied, slipping into the chair. “I’m Evan Isley, and I’m going to be manager of your shop.”
Daye raised an eyebrow at his words. The man was lean and blonde, with an easy smirk. He was dressed in a very fashionable jacket and stylishly cut trousers. He wore a gold chain around his wrist, and diamond studded hoops flashed in his earlobes. Daye had never seen him before. “I…I see, Mr. Isley,” Daye said. “And why, exactly, is it that you say that?”
“I’m more than qualified, and you need me,” Evan replied. “Sweetie, word is you’re getting married in four days, so the way I figure it, you haven’t got a lot of time to keep looking. This place…it called to me when I stopped in the other day. This is where I belong.”
Daye felt a strange empathy for the man’s words. “You…you have a resume, I presume?” she asked.
Evan Isley nodded, handing Daye the paper he held in his hand. She took it and studied it for more than a few minutes. She looked back up, frowning. “You have plenty of retail experience,” she said. “But you’ve never worked in a bookshop before. Nor a restaurant for that matter. You’ve never worked for small businesses either, have you?”
Evan Isley shook his head. Daye wondered idly how old he was. He certainly seemed quite young to have such an impressive resume. *If it’s all true,* she thought a bit cynically. “So…then why do you want to work here?”
Evan shook his head, looking suddenly angry and frustrated. “You don’t get it,” he said. “It’s not that I want to work here. I have to work here. Look…you’re not gonna believe this, but…”
Evan stopped talking and one of his hands flew to his head. He stared at Daye, a strange look coming over his face. Daye slithered back as his hazel eyes suddenly darkened, becoming almost black. His face paled and he spoke. “Tragedy lurks in the shadowed streets. Beware what stalks at midnight. Hold fast to your light and stand strong against the Dark Prince. His ascension is at hand. Fear not, for you possess the will to resist.”
A shiver ran up Daye’s spine at his words, but she couldn’t begin to understand what he might mean. *What tragedy? Who is the Dark Prince? And an Ascension…Goddess, I can’t handle another Evil God or whatever right now.*
Daye stood up slowly. Evan’s eyes had closed and he hadn’t reopened them yet. “Uhm…Mr. Isley?”
Daye reached over and gently placed her hand on the young man’s shoulder. His eyes flew open and he sat up. Evan stared around at the office and then turned his gaze back on Daye, dawning horror in his eyes. “Aww…hell, it happened again, didn’t it?” he asked.
“What happened…exactly?” Daye asked softly. “Are you alright? Can I…get you something, Mr. Isley?”
Evan shook his head wearily. “Alright, the thing is…as I was about to say, before being so rudely interrupted, I have these…episodes, sometimes. I’ve been having them…off and on…since…well, for years. Up until three months ago, I was working in New York City.”
Evan’s voice was growing angry again. “I had a really fabulous job at the Versace flagship store. I got a really great discount. Can you imagine how messed up it is that I started having more and more ‘visions’ and finally had to give up my job. I came out here because I found this guy online. He supposedly could cure people like me. What a joke! The man was a charlatan, a fake, a con man. I wasted my time and my money. Then…three days ago, I came upon your shop. And…I don’t know. I just knew it would be better if I was here. That…what just happened, that’s the first time since I wandered in here the other day. So…I need you to hire me, cause I can’t afford to not work, but I have to be here at your shop.”
Daye stared incredulously at the man. “You…you have visions?” she repeated. “That…before…when you were all ‘speaking in tongues’, you had a vision…about me?”
Evan nodded. “Yes…it was about you…somehow.”
“But…what did that all mean?” Daye’s voice was decidedly wary. “What sort of tragedy? What am I supposed to beware of? Who is this ‘dark prince’? What’s going on? Is something going to happen? Can you tell me?”
“No…no, I can’t,” Evan replied. “I’m sorry…Miss…uhm…”
“Blaise, I’m Amanda Blaise,” she said. “And why can’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Blaise,” Evan said. “There’s nothing I can do. I don’t understand what I meant. I mean…it’s no more clear to me than it is to you. That’s the thing about these visions. They’re a curse. They don’t do anyone any good.”
“So…they’re not visions of the future then?” Daye asked, thinking maybe he was just a nut. “They don’t come true?”
“No...don’t misunderstand,” Evan replied, shaking his head. “The visions I have, they always happen, but I can never make heads or tails of them ahead of time. I just know…vague things…like, oh I’m so sorry to say this to you, but something terrible is going to happen…and you have to watch out…be careful.”
*Something terrible? Watch out? Be careful?” Daye thought. *Fat lot of good that does. What kind of visions are impossible to interpret? That’s just…that’s great. That’s so very helpful.*
“I imagine that you really don’t have any reason to want to hire me now,” Evan said, sighing. “Not that I blame you. I just…I really need this job.”
Daye sighed. She half thought that Evan Isley was a total crackpot. He certainly hadn’t convinced her of anything else, but on the other hand, he was more than competent. *And you feel it,* Daye’s inner voice chimed in. *This guy…he’s the right one. He’s the only one that will fit.*
“Mr. Isley…can you start right away?” Daye asked, deciding suddenly. She needed someone. Evan Isley was someone, and not only was he qualified for the normal aspects of the job, but he had some kind of power. That would make it much easier when it came time to explain the less normal things he’d undoubtedly encounter at the Bib. And Daye didn’t doubt that the time would come to explain those things.
“Are you serious?” Evan’s face broke out in a stunned smile. “You…you’re gonna give me the job? For real?”
Daye nodded. “Oh…gorgeous,” Evan drawled, “you’re an angel in disguise. You can’t imagine how much this means to me.”
“I’m sure I could,” Daye replied. “I’ve felt…cursed before.”
Evan cocked his head to the side and studied her for a moment, critically. “I’ll just bet you have.”
Daye laughed. “Let me show you the shop and get you started, Mr. Isley, and welcome to The Bibliophile.”
daye's second fantasy
*** June 27, late night ***
Daye stood before the floor length mirror on the outside of the bathroom door in the employee lounge of The Bibliophile. She admired the fit of the sexy, shimmery blue bikini. Her pulse was pounding and her mouth had gone dry as she turned this way and that before the looking glass. She knew, somehow, just what was about to happen.
Daye turned towards the door leading back to the shop as it slowly swung open. She saw Marcus take a step into the room and turn towards her. She felt the sudden rush of heat as he caught sight of here standing there nearly undressed. He was rooted to the spot, but his eyes roamed her body like a gentle caress. A flush started at her toes and worked its way up to the top of her head, but she didn’t flinch or try to hide from him. She couldn’t suppress the welcoming smile that came to her lips when his eyes finally met hers.
Daye could see the hungry heat in his blue gaze. She felt an answering desire simmering within her. There was something intoxicating about shaking him up. He was always so controlled that when he slipped a little, it was so exciting. Daye loved that seeing her did this to him. There was power here, but she wouldn’t dare abuse it. She couldn’t. He trusted her.
Moving slowly across the room, almost drawn there by an irresistible force, Daye made her way to wear Marcus stood so still. She stopped inches from him, not touching but close enough to feel the heat of his body. Deliberately, she leaned towards him and without touching, reached around to swing the door behind him closed. As she did so, she inhaled deeply, taking a deep breath of his clean, masculine scent. Once the door was closed, she straightened, standing before him with a small smile on her lips.
Marcus held still, but he couldn’t hide the small tremor stealing across his body. He kept his gaze on her face, and Daye could see the struggle for control in his eyes. There was such heat between them. She couldn’t resist.
Slowly and gently, so as not to scare him off, Daye reached out and cupped Marcus face in her hands and took a step closer to him. Their bodies were nearly touching now, but still not quite. Marcus hands were curled into tight fists and pressed against his outer thighs, but he didn’t shy away from her or make any attempt to move. Daye felt a sudden swell of tenderness. She knew how he felt about being touched, how hard it was for him to accept this kind of closeness. She treasured the faith he was putting in her.
Daye leaned forward, her eyes wide open and locked on his as she brought her mouth to Marcus’. She watched his eyes as she traced the shape of his mouth with her tongue. Marcus mouth opened beneath hers and her tongue delved inside, tasting of all the dark secrets he tried so hard to hide. Daye’s hands, cupping his face so softly, slid around to caress the back of his neck. She buried her fingers in the silky softness of his hair.
Although he responded to her kiss, his mouth moving with hers, Marcus’ hands still remained at his sides. Despite the tension radiating from him, Daye knew that he still fought his desire. He just wouldn’t touch her.
Breaking away from his mouth, Daye moved forward that last little bit and rubbed her body sinuously against his. Marcus groaned aloud at the contact, and Daye whispered in his ear, “I want you, Marcus, so much. Please, touch me.”
Taking hold of his hands with her own, Daye brought them up to rest on her bare shoulders. She sighed in wonder and relief at the feel of his skin on hers.
Looking into his eyes, Daye saw how close he was to letting go. Deliberately, holding his gaze steadily, Daye released his hands and reached up to gently stroke his chest through the thin material of his shirt. She moved her fingers to the top button and, with a quick flick of her wrist, flipped it open. She followed down the row of buttons, undoing one after the other until his shirt gaped open before her.
Marcus hands still rested on her shoulders, but he rhythmically kneaded them as she boldly stroked his now accessible skin. His eyes devoured her, running over her face and down her nearly naked body, igniting more heat within her.
Daye raked her nails over his chest, grazing his nipples. He hissed at the contact and Daye glanced up. She saw the moment of surrender in his eyes. Marcus slid one hand down her back to pull her tightly against his body. Her achingly full breasts pressed against the bare flesh of his chest. The thin material of the swimsuit was as good as no barrier at all. She could feel every inch of him touching every inch of her.
Daye’s hands ran down his body. Her arms came around him, her palms skimming his back, as Marcus dipped his head and caught her mouth once again with his own. He stroked her body, moving from waist to hips and then circling round to grasp her bottom and pull her tighter against his growing arousal. Daye’s mouth opened in a sharp gasp as the sensation of his hard flesh pressed intimately against her. Marcus slipped his tongue between her parted lips, teasing and tasting. Daye arched into his embrace, shuddering as wild hunger nipped at her nerve endings.
Marcus backed off, nipping softly at her mouth and trailing kisses over her face and neck. Daye moaned softly. She brought her hands around to the front of his body and slipped them between him and her. She reached for the waistband of his slacks and, with trembling fingers, fumbled the button loose and tugged the zipper down.
Marcus’ hands stilled in their maddening exploration at Daye’s first bold touch. His eyes closed and his head fell back as she stroked him. “You’re killing me here,” Marcus rasped.
Daye’s mouth curved up in a playful smile. “Now, now, don’t die on me just yet,” she murmured, leaning forward to place her lips against his. “I’m not quite done with you.”
Marcus laughed huskily. He tightened his hold on her waist and maneuvered them back towards the nearby sofa. He lowered Daye down onto the plush softness and kissed her once, firmly, before stepping back. She made a small mewling sound to express her displeasure, but he wagged one finger warningly at her. Daye’s eyes roamed his body appreciatively as he quickly stripped away his clothes. He moved over her until his body covered hers.
Daye’s arms came immediately around him, welcoming him into her embrace. Joy swelled in her heart as his hands came up to tenderly cup her cheeks. Marcus kissed her once again, slowly and thoroughly. His mouth was sweet and hot as it moved over hers. Daye let her hands roam his back and shoulders. As he moved from her mouth, trailing a hot, wet path down her neck and torso, Marcus finally stripped away the flimsy material of the bikini and lavished each newly exposed area of her body with his kisses.
Daye was on fire. Her blood sang through her veins and she indulged herself, leaving no part of his body untouched by her hands or mouth. They drove one another higher and higher towards the peaks of desire. Climbing towards the pinnacle, their bodies strained and their hearts racing, Daye and Marcus came together in a flash of sweet release.
Daye was lost to the world, to anything but this man and the perfect pleasure they shared. Her body filled with lust and longing, and her heart filled with love. As he opened himself to her with each subtle movement of his body, Daye’s heart swelled even more. She knew then, the truth she’d first glimpsed after his confessions about his heartbreaking childhood. She loved him. No matter what the consequences might be, she couldn’t stop what was happening now. Daye was in love with Marcus.
***
Daye’s eyes flew open. She lay in her empty bed in the room she had of late shared with her fiancé. Drew slept peacefully across the hall. Daye sat up slowly, her head pounding. Desperate sadness built within her. Gazing at the dim shadows around her, she brought one hand up to cover her eyes, as the first sob broke loose.
“Goddess help me,” she whispered in a tear choked voice. “It’s true. I’m in love with him. Oh…I am…I am…I am…”
dinner at daye's house
*** Monday, June 28, 2007, 6:00 pm ***
*** Daye’s House ***
Daye artfully arranged the dim sum on a plate and grabbed the small appetizer dishes and napkins she's prepared. She hurried to set it all up on the antique oak table in the living room and then paused to check her reflection in the hall mirror. She thought that she looked suitably domestic, in her pale blue silk blouse and bone colored linen pants. She'd managed to tame her wild curls into a simple tail. She put the sparkle in her eyes and the flush to her cheeks down to the anticipation of an enjoyable evening with friends. She had a fluttery feeling in her stomach, but that was probably just nerves. It had nothing to do with the fact that Marcus was coming. She was just a little worried that things would be awkward, that was all.
*I hope this is a good idea,* she thought to herself, as the doorbell rang.
"I've got it," Daye called out, moving to greet her guests.
Marcus stood at the doorway with Onyx on his arm. His suit was one of his ubiquitous dark colored perfectly tailed affairs that he wore so well. Onyx on the other hand was dressed much more elegantly that usual. An iridescent dark green sleeveless blouse flowed effortlessly into long slender black skirt. Her hair was pulled gently back to reveal her antique silver earrings. While a matching necklace glinted from beneath the blouse.
Having rung the bell, Marcus retrieved the bottle of wine he’d brought from Onyx. The family cellars had been sold with the rest of the estate in Hong Kong but the Peninsula had a fine selection of wine in its own cellars and the concierge had been happy to arrange for a bottle.
The door opened, “Good Evening Amanda.” The words were formal but the smile behind them was not. Marcus leant forward to place a quick kiss on her cheek before presenting the wine for her inspection. "A gift."
Daye took the bottle of wine and offered Marcus a bright smile in return. He was dressed to dark perfection, as usual. Daye fought down the urge to take a minute and just drink in the sight of him. Instead, she turned her bright, welcoming smile on Onyx, thankful the demon was as useful as a distraction when she needed one.
"Hello, Onyx," she said. "You look lovely."
Daye turned back to Marcus. "Won't you both please come in?"
“Of course…” Marcus stepped within and he and Onyx followed Daye to the kitchen where Daye placed the wine in the refrigerator to chill.
“Would you like to see the rest of the house?” She inquired
“Certainly.” The brief glimpse Marcus had seen suggested a space very different from the darkly sensuous apartment where he and Daye had first met. They passed through the main living room where Marcus lingered briefly inhaling the wonderful scents of the food then moved through the den and the office.
It was the office Marcus found most striking. In a room filled with books, here was visible evidence of Daye’s magic, it was a place quite at odds with the light airy feel of the rest of the house but on reflection Marcus realized that even that matched Daye quite well.
“You have a beautiful home.”
Daye was thrilled at Marcus' simple compliment. They were standing in the hallway, between the closed doors of her bedroom and the guest room Drew had been using of late.
"Thank you," Daye said. "I'm very fond of it."
Daye turned towards one of the closed doors. "That's my bedroom, there," she said. "And that's the guest room."
As Daye gestured to the other closed door, it suddenly swung open and Drew stepped out. His hair was still damp from the shower he'd taken at the last minute, and he was dressed very casually in a pair of jeans and a bright blue t-shirt. He stopped abruptly when he saw Daye, Marcus and Onyx standing in the hallway.
"Oh...hum...hi," Drew said, struggling to mask his distaste. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were here already."
“That’s ok. Daye was just showing us the house.” Marcus turned slightly and motioned to Onyx. “I believe you’ve met Onyx?”
Onyx nodded “Dr Langley.”
Drew offered Marcus' companion a smile. He had met her on a couple of occasions while the White Hats were coordinating the recent battle with Ambrose Delancre and the WC Corps. He didn't really understand Onyx relationship to Marcus Dalton, but he didn't actually care all that much either. If the woman was Dalton's lover, she certainly didn't act like it. If she served in some other capacity, Drew couldn't imagine what it might be.
Drew then turned his attention back to Marcus, unconsciously bristling as he noted that the necromancer was studying him coolly. They didn't like each other. Despite Daye's insistence to the contrary, Drew thought this man was an opportunistic bastard and that he must ultimately want something from Amanda. Drew seriously doubted that Marcus had any real interest in friendship with them, but he couldn't persuade Amanda of that fact. Things between them were tense enough, without adding that hostility to the mix, so he tolerated her relationship with Dalton and hoped if he just waited it out that said relationship would eventually fizzle out and die.
Daye could feel the sudden awkwardness in the air, and she began to regret having forced this meeting. Before she'd realized how much she'd come to care for Marcus, bringing these two men together had seemed like a good idea, but now she could almost feel herself being pulled in two different directions.
"So...would you like something to drink?" she asked, stepping around Drew to shut the guest room door that he'd left open.
Draw’s hostility was obvious to Marcus but he simply ignored it. The man was beneath him really. He was a sheep living in a world of wolves and Marcus had made him pay for that fact. In some ways Marcus regretted that but only because he knew how Daye would react. The effect on Drew was inconsequential by comparison.
The torn look on Daye’s face as she asked her question was enough for Marcus get himself back under control. He would tolerate Drew, even be friendly towards him but only for Daye’s sake, for no other reason.
“Sure. I’d love a drink.” Marcus said as Onyx nodded her assent also. The four of them moved back downstairs but as they did so Marcus was struck by a thought.
Drew had obviously been using the room he had exited from, but Daye had indicated the room opposite was hers. He smiled inwardly. Was Drew so spineless he couldn’t even make his way back into his fiancée’s bed?
*No that’s unfair* Daye had been through an ordeal and perhaps she wasn’t ready for such intimacy, then Marcus recalled the heated glances she’d occasionally directed his way.
Then again, perhaps it was just another symptom of her uncertainty.
Day led everyone back into the living room. Once they were all seated, she moved towards the wet bar to begin mixing drinks. Drew followed her, casually encircling her waist with his arm in a gesture that clearly was supposed to show she belonged to him. He failed to notice that she stiffened momentarily at his touch.
"What would you like?" Daye asked, recovering nicely from her reaction to Drew.
"I seem to recall a preference for whiskey," Daye added. "But it's really up to you."
Marcus wanted to roll his eyes when he saw Drew’s move. It was so transparent and Daye obviously wasn’t immediately comfortable with it either, but really, didn’t Drew realize that such trivial displays were unnecessary. Marcus wasn’t going to steal Daye away from him, though not because he couldn’t, rather because he wouldn’t. Daye had made her choice and Marcus would respect that even if this academic couldn’t.
“A single malt if you have it?”
Daye laughed softly, reaching for the decanter and pouring a small amount of the amber liquid into a glass. "Of course," she said, "I might've guessed."
She wasn't even aware that her comment might have certain connotations, but when she moved across the room to hand the glass to Marcus, Drew watched her with narrowed eyes. He could imagine the times they'd shared a drink before, no doubt in far more intimate settings. Jealousy clawed at the back of his throat. Drew, uncharacteristically, grabbed the vodka and poured himself a sizeable portion. He leaned back against the bar and drank deeply from the glass.
Daye watched Drew, her eyes widening slightly. She was surprised because he hardly ever drank. Covering up as best she could, though, she turned to Onyx. "And for you?"
Onyx had watched the dynamics of the other three with interest. Marcus was his usual self when faced with someone as weak as Drew appeared though he was concealing it quite well. As for Drew, he didn’t quite realize how overmatched he was by Marcus but the inkling he did seem to have was enough to spark his jealousy. While Daye was dragged back and forth by her emotions, though Onyx had no fear on that score. The witch had displayed her strength in the dungeon under Delancre’s mansion.
“Tequila please.” It was a shame Marcus needed her this evening. She didn’t seem to be providing the camouflage he’d wanted and Onyx would have preferred to spend some more time with Tash moving her plans forward
Daye poured Onyx her drink and handed it to her. Then she moved towards Drew, but stopped. She stood in between Marcus seated on the sofa and Drew glowering at the bar. She wasn't sure what to do or where to go. Rather than settling things between these two men in her life, it was beginning to look like tonight would only make things worse. She couldn't fault Marcus on his behavior. He was his usual perfectly polished self, but Drew, on the other hand, seemed bound and determined to alienate the man.
*I think he's really jealous of Marcus,* she thought. *But he's no reason to be. I made my choice when I put this ring back on my finger. He should trust me. I've not done anything wrong.*
Daye knew that technically, though, that wasn't true. She'd done one thing very, very wrong. Hadn't she acknowledged it to herself in the dark of her empty bedroom this morning? She was in love with Marcus, a man she had no business feeling anything more than platonic friendship for, and she was engaged to marry Drew. She glanced over at Drew hesitantly as this thought played through her mind. He had apparently poured himself a second drink, which he was nursing sulkily. Daye noticed the flush of color in his face and feared that perhaps he couldn't hold his liquor all that well. She'd have no way of knowing what might happen, since she'd never seen him drink to excess before.
Daye sighed inwardly. Drew was upset because he loved her and he felt threatened by Marcus. She had no intention of letting anything happen between them, but Drew apparently didn't have much faith in that. He needed her. She wouldn't do anything more to hurt him. The Amanda who'd existed while she was acting under the influence of that damn virus would have readily cast Drew aside to satisfy her own desires. Daye wasn't going to be that woman ever again. She had made a commitment, and Drew needed her to honor it, so honor it she would.
Daye suddenly remembered the tray of appetizers on the table. She moved forward, smiling despite her inner turmoil and offered some to both Marcus and Onyx. She would get through tonight, and any other difficult nights to come. She could do this.
The appetizers were excellent, as good as Onyx could have produced and better than some he had had in Hong Kong. “These are really good.” Marcus said as he took another couple of items from the tray.
Daye blushed at the casual compliment. Drew snorted. When Daye glanced up at him quizzically he was staring pointedly into now almost empty glass.
*Flattery'll get you nowhere, pal,* Drew thought derisively.
They were all saved from further discomfort when suddenly Sam and Maia appeared in the room from somewhere upstairs.
Sam seemed not to notice how quiet they all were. He smiled sheepishly at Daye as he followed her whirlwind of a daughter into the room. Maia was dressed in overalls and a pink blouse. Her long black curls were pulled up into lopsided pigtails on her head. She threw herself at her mother with unselfconscious abandon and Daye scooped her up immediately.
Daye cuddled Maia close to her, breathing deeply of the clean baby smell that still clung to the girl. She nuzzled Maia's neck as Maia hugged her fiercely.
"Love MaMa," Maia declared loudly, kissing Daye's mouth with a loud smack. She then struggled until Daye let her down.
Maia smiled toothily at the others in the room and then, much to everyone's surprise made a beeline for where Marcus sat on the sofa. She came to a stop right in front of him and stared at him openly for several minutes.
Finally, she smiled sunnily, the look eerily reminiscent of her mother. "Mama's friend," she declared, before shoving her hand towards him in a very adult manner.
Marcus quirked an eyebrow at the young girl and smiled before glancing round the room. Daye seemed half amused by her little girl while Sam was just wary. It was something Marcus had come to expect from the man. Drew was at the bar again pouring himself a drink still unhappy with the whole situation.
With a little shrug Marcus took Maia’s hand “Hello Maia. I’m Marcus” he said rather gravely
Maia shook Marcus' hand, mimicking his serious demeanor and tone, but when she stepped back, she started to giggle.
Maia glanced over her shoulder at Daye. "Good, Mama," Maia announced loudly, apparently having made her judgment of Marcus and wanting everyone else to know. She scrambled up onto the sofa next to him and then seemed to notice Onyx sitting there.
Maia's smile faltered and she scooted closer to Marcus. She looked up at him and then back at Onyx warily. "Marcus friend?" she asked, her voice dropping nearly to a whisper.
The complexities of a demonic pact were not something he felt the need to explain to even a precocious two year old. So Marcus merely nodded “Yes, a friend. She won’t hurt you.” Which was true. Somehow he doubted Maia was a threat to him.
Marcus rested his hands gently on the girl’s shoulders. “Go on, it’s all right.” He said giving Onyx a stern look.
Maia continued to eye Onyx suspiciously, but apparently she trusted Marcus' word. She slid slightly closer to Onyx and presented her pudgy little hand to the demon. "K...Hi, Marcus' friend," Maia said, once again adopting Marcus' solemn tone. "I Maia."
Drew was sipping from his third or fourth glass of vodka and staring daggers at the cozy little scene on the couch.
Daye was trying hard not to laugh at her daughter. She realized that she should call Maia off and give poor Marcus a break, but there was a part of her that really wanted to see how he'd interact with her little girl, a part she didn't want to examine the motivation of too closely.
Sam had been watching Maia, afraid that the little girl would say or do something inappropriate, but now he was watching Drew, a sick feeling in his stomach. Daye's fiancé’s look was venomous as he leaned heavily on the bar and sipped his drink. Sam suddenly had a very bad feeling about where this night was headed.
“I’m Onyx, Little one” The demon took Maia’s hand in a gentle grasp and shook it slightly too, then looked at Daye, then Sam.
Daye smiled at Onyx as Maia slipped off the sofa and suddenly became enamored of the plate of Dim Sum on the table. She turned then towards Drew and her smile froze in place. Drew was glowering at everyone in the room, his glass half full. She could barely contain her dismay at the mean look in his eyes. She darted her gaze to the others, hoping no one else had noticed. Sam was watching Drew, and Daye was suddenly afraid that someone was going to say the wrong thing.
"Uhm...dinner," she announced with forced cheerfulness. "Let's all move into the dining room, okay?"
At Daye's suggestion, Marcus, Onyx, Sam, and Maia all moved towards the door. She turned to Drew and drew in a deep breath.
"Coming?" she asked him, moving forward to try and slip the glass of vodka out of his grasp. He didn't let it go.
"I'm not done with that," Drew hissed before brushing past her and moving out of the room ahead of the others. Daye sighed, straightened her shoulders and tried to look happy as she ushered everyone else into the dining room.
Marcus saw the faint tremble in Drew’s hand and contained a wince. The man was drinking heavily and if Marcus was any judge wasn’t handling it well. That of course just went with everything else he knew about the man. He was simply …weak. Unable to deal with the difficulties life threw at him.
His obvious distaste for how Maia had treated Marcus was another mark against him. Maia was her mother’s daughter, friendly and outgoing without the wariness that age brought. Did Drew think Marcus was going to replace him in Maia’s affections?
Marcus snorted at how unlikely that was, he might become a favored uncle but a glance at Sam suggested that role was also filled. No he was ‘Mama’s friend’ and probably would remain just that.
Daye seated everyone around the table and brought dishes in from the kitchen. She'd prepared a variety of popular Chinese dishes. Once she'd seen that the table was completely set, she sat down. Drew was seated at the opposite end of the table with Sam and Maia to his right and Marcus and Onyx to Daye's.
Daye tried to maintain light chatter as they served themselves and ate. She tried not to notice Drew filling and refilling his glass of vodka, or downing more than one glass of the wine that Marcus had brought. She plastered a smile on her face and hoped no one could see how dismayed and increasingly distraught Drew's behavior was making her.
Not only was he drinking excessively, but he barely spoke a word all through the meal.
By the time they had finished eating, Daye's nerves were totally frayed. She struggled not to show it.
"Anyone for coffee in the living room?" she asked, forcing herself not to look at Drew.
*The man’s an ass. He doesn’t deserve Daye.* Marcus thought as he watched Drew continue to drink. Daye had been the perfect hostess throughout the whole meal. The food had been as excellent as the appetizers and Drew had barely noticed; He’d touched far less than anyone except Maia and drunk far more. By the end of the meal he was slurring his words badly and Marcus just felt angry that Drew would embarrass Daye this way, whatever his feelings.
He looked to Daye as she offered coffee and thought of cutting this farce short but he didn’t. He wasn’t at fault here and he wasn’t going to let Drew’s behavior drive him away.
“Sure”
Daye led them all into the living room. She winced when she saw the way that Drew stumbled as he walked.
Once everyone was seated, Daye went back to the kitchen, retrieving the coffee pot she'd had brewing as well as a teapot. She carried both into the room on a tray, along with cups and saucers. Daye set the tray down and then proceeded to pour. She began with Marcus, because she knew well what he liked. Daye had splurged when she'd gone shopping for the meal, stopping at a local barista to pick up Marcus' favorite blend. She filled his cup and handed it to him
"Black, right?" Daye said as she proffered the cup. She continued to serve the others, coffee or tea as was their preference.
Marcus took the cup from Daye and caught the aroma of the coffee, he brought the cup to his face and inhaled the rich complex scent. “You didn’t?” He sipped the coffee, rolled the liquid around his mouth and swallowed. She had. Yemeni Mocha Mattari. One of the more expensive and rare coffees you could buy and Marcus’ personal favorite.
“Thank you,” Marcus didn’t mention the cost or difficulty of Daye buying this; that would detract from the gift.
Daye shrugged. "I know how much you like it," she said.
Drew laughed harshly at the exchange. "Isn't that nice," he sneered, his words slurring. "It's so convenient how she knows just what you like, isn't it Dalton?"
Marcus saw Daye’s face as Drew’s barb hit home, her eyes widened in shock at the cruelty of his words and then the sheer horror that rolled over her. Marcus wanted to snarl at the man for hurting her like this but he wouldn’t descend to his level. Not quite.
“A good hostess knows her guest’s preferences. Dr Langley.”
"Yeah, Amanda's a great hostess. She's always so...accommodating," Drew paused for emphasis before finishing the sentence. "But you know that from experience, right Dalton?"
The color drained from Daye’s face at that, absolute shock replacing everything else in her bearing. Marcus gritted his teeth and stopped himself from doing something utterly stupid like ordering Onyx to eviscerate him.
"Drew?" Daye's voice was soft and hurt. "What's wrong with you? I thought...Marcus and I are just friends. Why are you saying these things?"
"Friends?!" Drew spat, jumping to his feet and advancing on her. "Are you totally nuts or what? You can't be friends with that asshole. You fucked him, remember?"
Drew loomed over her, his body tight with rage. He was shouting now. "You think he wants to be your girlfriend and sip tea with you after that?" Jealousy was a beast riding Drew's back as his words flew forth like bruising fists. "Please, don't be naive. He's only sniffing around cause he thinks he's still got a chance. You...Fucked...Him!!!"
Marcus’ temper fireballed but he retained enough control not to do something lethal. He leapt to his feet.” Does it take you half a bottle of vodka to give you a spine, then?” A hard shove knocked Drew off balance and away from Daye. “Grow up, Drew! Stop being a little boy masquerading as a man.” Marcus sneered and shoved Drew back again. “ What happened is in the past, never to be repeated.” A finger hammered into Drew’s chest “ Who’s she marrying? You!” And again. “Why? Because she loves you, not me!” Marcus pushed one last time and Drew lost his balance completely collapsing at Marcus’ feet. “Though on the basis of this sniveling little display, I have no idea why!”
There was utter silence after Marcus' outburst. Sam had just come back into the room, in time to hear exactly what Marcus was saying. As soon as he realized what had happened, he moved over to Daye. As Marcus put Drew in his place, Daye stared at them both in abject horror. Sam was watching her face as Marcus spoke and he saw the glimmer of despair in her eyes. "I'll take care of Drew," Sam whispered to her.
He moved across the room and helped the other man to his feet, dragging him out of the room before something worse happened, though he wasn't sure what could be worse at this point.
Once they were gone, Daye stood still, staring at Marcus. He was obviously struggling to reign in his temper. She didn't know what to say.
Marcus inhaled a lungful of air through his nose and let it out through his mouth. With it went most of his rage and he turned to Daye. “I’m sorry.” He enfolded her in a loose embrace. “I shouldn’t have let him bait like that.”
He dropped his arms to take her by the hands. “I ought to go…”
Daye nodded. She was not going to cry. "Yes, maybe...I'm sorry," she said. "This was...a terrible mistake. I shouldn't have...I don't know...I'm sorry, Marcus."
“This was not your fault Daye. Hear me?” The shock and pain of Drew’s words were catching up with Daye and Marcus could see tears standing in her eyes. He gave her another quick hug. “Will you be alright?”
"I'm fine," Daye replied tremulously. She wanted more than anything to crawl into Marcus' lap and let him hold her while the rest of the world just went away. But it didn't matter what she wanted. All that mattered was what she had to do, and that was let him go. "Go on, I'll be okay," Daye said. "I'll...I'll call you soon."
He nodded then motioned to Onyx who walked out of the room while taking a cell phone out of literally nowhere. They heard her voice calling for Marcus’ car and Marcus gave Daye one last look.
“Call me.” He moved away his hand holding on to hers for as long as possible.
As Marcus reached the outer door with the headlights of his car illuminating the windows he heard footsteps behind him. Standing there was Sam watching them . “Take care of her, Sam.” Marcus opened the door and left.
drew has a breakthrough
*** June 29, 2007, sometime between 1 am and sunrise ***
Drew woke abruptly, his dreams a strange mixture of his worst nightmares and the scenes replaying from earlier in the evening. His head pounded lethally and he was afraid to open his eyes. Surely he hadn’t really done the things he vaguely remembered doing. Surely he’d not gotten ridiculously drunk and then taken pot shots at the woman he loved in front of the “enemy”. That couldn’t have happened, because Drew was becoming well versed in “keeping it together.” There was no way in one night he’d managed to destroy the fragile peace that had reigned simply because he’d had one too many glasses of vodka and not enough to eat. He could see where things had gotten out of hand right away. It had been a mistake from the moment he’d agreed to have Marcus Dalton over for dinner. Jealousy aside, and Drew could admit now at least that there was more than a little of that, he just didn’t like Dalton. He felt the man was a user and that Amanda could do without a friend like him, but Drew didn’t feel it was his place to tell her who to be friends with.
“What is my place?” Drew asked the empty room. “I can’t…I love her, but I just can’t stop…I want to let it go.”
He thought about the things he’d admitted to himself the other night at Chinaka’s. They were all true. Everything that he’d said, everything he’d thought, that was the wall being built between himself and the woman he loved. He could so clearly see now that he’d been so afraid of opening up to Amanda that he’d been pushing her further and further away.
“God, I hope it’s not too late,” Drew closed his eyes once more and laid his head in his hands. “It can’t be too late.”
Drew lifted his head and looked around the room…the guest room. He laughed scornfully. “What the hell am I doing here? I’m a ‘guest’ in my own home. Why? Because I’m ‘faulty.’ I should be in there with her. I should be holding the woman I love. This is ridiculous. I love her. I should be able to get past anything else.”
Drew slowly stood up. The room was still spinning a bit and his tongue felt very fuzzy. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on, and then moved out of the room and down the hall towards the kitchen. Drew got himself a glass of water and a couple of aspirin. He went out to the backyard and settled himself on the hammock he’d spread between the two tallest trees. Drew leaned back and stared up at the stars, his mind awhirl despite the lingering effects of his hangover.
First there were his own wild imaginings, the ‘mini movies’ he’d mentioned to Chinaka. He could see Amanda, his Amanda, the way she’d been with Hyde guiding her actions. He didn’t have to really know, not to create his own worst nightmares. Amanda with her body wrapped around some nameless demon. Amanda slaking that bottomless lust with Marcus Dalton. Amanda laughing viciously as she tore his heart to shreds.
Then, there were the memories. The things that had really happened. The things he didn’t talk about to anyone. Drew figured that Amanda thought he couldn’t remember what she’d done to him personally, but that wasn’t the case. He could well remember the way things had been towards the beginning of her ‘infection.’ Before she’d left him, left them, Amanda had still had those terrible appetites. She’d begun by asking him to do things…to her…with her, that he’d never done before. He’d been intrigued by Amanda’s new…interests at first, but the more she pushed, the more uncomfortable he became. Still, he’d indulged some of her darker desires. He’d engaged in mild bondage, and even gone so far as to spank her when she’d asked. Amanda had been demanding, but she’d been exciting as well. Drew was so ashamed of how much he’d enjoyed exploring those things with her. He was embarrassed and felt guilt as well. He should have known right away that Amanda wasn’t herself. He knew the world she lived in. He’d gone through the whole Mother Mariah affair with her. He knew that at times people could be controlled or altered by outside forces. He was afraid that on some level, some part of him liked the things she was doing, so much so that he’d ignored the warning signs.
Drew had eventually drawn a line. He hadn’t been willing to go along with everything his Hyde influenced lover had suggested. He’d even started to question her about it just before she left. That was when Amanda decided to take what she wanted with or without his consent. Drew had been aware each time Amanda came to him and wrapped his will in her magic. He’d known exactly what was happening, and had even struggled against it, but she was strong and he…well, when it came to Amanda, he was truly weak in so many ways. Drew knew he’d never fought her as fiercely as he might have. Some part of him had known that Amanda, as she was then, would have found someone else to give her what she needed if she hadn’t gotten it from him. Even before it happened, Drew had instinctively known how shattered he would be when Amanda turned to other men for her satisfaction. So, he’d endured her manipulative spells. He’d let Amanda use his body in any way she saw fit, to slake her animal lust, and he’d done so despite his own disgust. He’d done so to keep her and he’d lost her anyway.
“I couldn’t make her stay,” Drew admitted aloud to the world. “You can never make anyone stay if they don’t want to. And I…I should have faced this when it all happened. I wanted everything to be so normal that I let this happen to her, to us. It’s not just that I’m angry at her. It’s not just that I’m sick over what she did. I’m angry at myself too. I’m sick over what I did. There’s so much I could have done. I could have stopped all this from happening.”
“But…she came back to me…not once, but twice,” he murmured. “She came back to me when she lost her magic…oh…God…that was just about perfect…and then, in the end, she came back to me…to me…”
Drew sat up slowly, a look of shocked realization on his face. He suddenly recalled the many times in the last weeks when Amanda had tried to talk to him. He remembered her looking hopeful, and the way that he had shut her down again and again. She had wanted to work things through. He could see that now. He had been afraid…of his own anger and afraid of the things she’d done. He’d been afraid, hell, he was still afraid, that he wouldn’t be able to forgive, that once he knew the extent of her fall, he’d never be able to see her as his Amanda…as the woman he loved.
“We can’t go on like this,” Drew mused. “We’re moving farther and farther apart.”
He thought of the way things had been tonight. He’d fired shots off at her out of anger and resentment. If they didn’t fix what was wrong, then he’d surely do so again, and again, until there was nothing left of the love they once had shared. Drew wouldn’t let that happen. “I love her so damn much,” he said with a sigh. He wanted to get up now and go to her, but glancing up at the sun slowly rising, Drew realized that now was not the best time. The wedding was tomorrow, and as much as he might want to, there was no chance they’d have time to work it out before then.
“We can fix this, though,” Drew said with conviction. “I know we can.”
Drew told himself that as soon as the wedding was over, they could talk about their problems and begin to solve them. He believed this was the best way. He wasn’t being ruled by fear now, and as long as they still had love between them, he and Amanda could do anything.
sam urges daye to go to marcus
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home?” Drew asked. He was still feeling very guilty about his behavior the previous night at Daye’s dinner party. He couldn’t help how much he disliked Marcus, but he’d been an idiot to drink so heavily. He could barely remember what he’d said and done that had ended the evening on such a sour note. The only thing he was absolutely sure of was that Daye was still quite upset. They were getting married tomorrow and he wanted more than anything to make it up to her for his awful behavior. Thus, the offer to skip his own bachelor party.
“No, Drew, go,” Daye replied. “It’s your Bachelor Party. You have to go. I’ll be fine. I’m probably going to try and get to bed early. Have a good time.”
“If you’re sure,” Drew said, stopping to drop a light kiss on her mouth.
“I am,” Daye promised. And she was. She was sure she didn’t want to spend the evening listening to Drew apologize repeatedly for his deplorable behavior at her dinner party the night before. She had a migraine threatening and acid churned bitterly in her stomach. All she really wanted to do was crawl into her bed, curl up into a ball and pretend she could stay that way forever.
Drew nodded and strode out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Daye breathed a sigh of relief. She let her head fall back on the chair and closed her eyes. The wedding was tomorrow…tomorrow, and she wasn’t sure that going through with it was the right thing. More and more over the last week, she’d questioned her reasons for doing it. She had realized just recently that she was having strong feelings for Marcus, yet she still was planning to marry Drew tomorrow afternoon.
*Because Marcus isn’t right for you,* Daye told herself. *No matter how much I want him, I know we don’t belong together.*
Daye thought of how badly he’d reacted to her sympathy at lunch. *He’s not in love with you. Drew is. How can you imagine that you’d ever be satisfied with what Marcus has to offer? He won’t, possibly can’t, love you. You’d be setting yourself up for heartache and humiliation.*
But would it be any more heartache than she had right now? And as for humiliation, so what? If she went to Marcus, she knew he’d sleep with her. He wanted her. She was sure enough of that. So, what did it matter if he loved her or not? She loved him, true, but who said she could only be happy if he loved her back. Could she love him enough for the both of them?
“Daye?” Sam’s quiet voice cut into her reverie. Daye opened her eyes and smiled wearily up at him.
“Yes, Sam?” she asked, thinking how wonderful he’d been through all of this. He had offered her kind support and understanding. After Marcus, Sam was the one person she felt the most comfortable around.
“Can I…can I talk to you about something?” Sam sounded very solemn.
Daye sat up. “Sure, Sam, what’s the matter?”
Sam sat down on the sofa, and then immediately jumped back to his feet and began pacing.
“Sam?” Daye couldn’t understand what he could possibly be this nervous about. “What’s going on? Is there something wrong?”
Sam took a deep breath. “Yeah, there’s something wrong,” he finally said.
“Well, what is it?” Daye asked. “Tell me.”
Sam stopped and stared pointedly at her. “You already know what it is.”
“No,” Daye shook her head, completely confused. “I really don’t. What’s going on, Sam?”
“I…I know about Marcus,” Sam said, sitting back down. “I mean, I think I do.”
“Know about Marcus…” Daye’s voice trailed off and she just stared at Sam. “You know…about Marcus…you know about me…?”
How could he possibly? She’d told no one. How could Sam know what she was feeling?
“I saw your face,” Sam sighed. “Last night, when Marcus told Drew that you had picked him, that you loved Drew…I saw your face. I knew right away. It’s true, right? You’re in love with Marcus Dalton?”
“Oh, Sam,” Daye shook her head sadly. “I am…I love him. Isn’t that terrible?”
“Terrible?” Sam repeated. “Why is it terrible? You love him. That’s not usually a terrible thing to realize.”
Daye laughed mirthlessly. “And Drew?”
“You two are making a mistake,” Sam said simply. “You’re making each other so miserable. I don’t even know if Drew really wants this, or if he just wants things to be like they were before. We were all so happy then, and maybe he just thinks everything will be fine if he pretends that nothings changed. I don’t know, Amanda. I just…I don’t think you should marry Drew if you’re in love with someone else.”
“But…Drew needs me…he needs this,” Daye replied. “I…if I break his heart…I can’t just…it’s not fair to him. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this. He loves me, Sam.”
“Maybe, but you don’t love him, not anymore. If you pretend, if you just go on pretending, you’re gonna break his heart so much more. And your own. It’s okay to want what you want. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“I’m not selfish. I care about people, about their feelings. I won’t just go and do whatever feels good. I’m not that person.”
“No, Amanda, you’re not. But it’s okay to do what you want, instead of what you think you should. It’s okay to be happy. Drew will be okay.”
“This doesn’t matter anyway,” Daye said. “Marcus doesn’t love me. I can’t force my love on him.”
“How do you know?” Sam asked. “Did you ask him how he feels? Are you sure?”
“No, but…” Daye paused. How could she explain to Sam? Things with Marcus were complicated. Marcus was complicated.
“Daye, you need to go see him,” Sam said decisively. “You have to talk to Marcus. You have to. You can’t go ahead without talking to him. Do you hear me? Go see him. Now. Tonight.”
“What?” Daye looked confused, but hopeful. “Are you…do you think so?”
“Yes, go,” Sam urged. “Go right now.”
Daye stood up hesitantly. She didn’t know if Sam was right or not, but she did know that just thinking about going to see Marcus was lifting the heavy weight off of her heart. She smiled fondly at Sam. “Alright, I will,” she said, turning and almost running out of the room.
daye bares her soul to marcus
*** Friday, June 29, 2007, 11 pm ***
*** The Peninsula Beverly Hills ***
Daye swung the van up to the curb in front of the Peninsula Beverly Hills and put it into park. She saw out of the corner of her eye that the valet would be over in a couple of minutes. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her eyes to look at herself in the rear view mirror. Her heart was racing with a mixture of fear and anticipation. She'd hurried right out after having spoken to Sam at the house, and it was only now that she'd arrived that she suddenly realized she was wearing the dress from her dream. Her mouth quirked up in an ironic smile.
"It's fate," Daye whispered to herself. The valet appeared at her door at that moment. Sighing, she opened the door and stepped out, passing the keys to him.
Daye strode purposefully through the front door of the hotel and quickly to the elevator. She'd been there many times before, so no one questioned her.
Daye leaned back when the elevator doors slid shut. As it moved quickly towards Marcus floor, she struggled with the question of what to do or say when she saw him. She wouldn't go through Onyx this time. No doubt the demon would know she was there, but Daye had a feeling Onyx wouldn't interfere. It was nearly midnight and she was showing up unannounced at Marcus' door. Surely Onyx would at least guess the reason why.
The elevator came to a stop and Daye was still not quite sure how to proceed, but she couldn't back down now. She had to do this. No matter what happened next, Sam had been right, she couldn't go forward with her life without knowing.
Daye made her way to Marcus door and reached out to knock gently.
The hour was late, though not unusually so for a man of Marcus’ particular talents. The almost hesitant knock on the door disturbed his reading and Marcus looked up in genuine surprise; Onyx would have prevented anyone disturbing him at this time. If she hadn’t…
Marcus reached down to the drawer of his desk and opened it, carefully removing one of his many firearms. He chambered a round and checked to see that the safety was on before stepping out into the corridor. Marcus walked towards the door and then pressed against one wall while pondering the fact that Onyx’s alarm wards had not triggered. His ‘guest’ was either capable enough to circumvent them or no threat whatsoever. Despite Delancre’s defeat, the current circumstances were too unusual for Marcus to remain unwary.
His silent approach drew neither spell nor bullet, so upon reaching the door he looked through the spy hole and sighed with a touch of self deprecating humor.
It was only Daye, obviously troubled by something. She stood outside his door biting her bottom lip and trembling faintly. There was a table by the door and Marcus careful set his gun down before opening it.
“Daye…”
Marcus stood in the doorway, looking slightly mussed. Daye blushed, realizing immediately that this visit was different. She'd never just stopped by to see him before. He'd always had plenty of time to make sure he looked perfectly presentable. She felt a flood of warmth at the idea of seeing this man she cared so much about this way. It was like seeing him looking less than perfect meant that he was more approachable, more human.
Smiling hesitantly, Daye spoke. "Hi...Marcus. Do you think...may I come in? I need..."
Daye clamped down the sudden urge to just throw herself at him and save the confessional for later. She blushed.
"I really need to talk to you about something," she said quickly before dropping her gaze to the floor and mentally ordering herself to be calm.
*The Wedding…* He thought. Daye was having last minute jitters and needed to talk to someone. As friendly as they’d become of late Daye had obviously chosen him, though Marcus thought Kate was likely to be more understanding having already been a bride.
“Of course, Daye. Come in.” Marcus opened the door wider and turned in, shielding the table and the gun from Daye’s eyes. He followed her into the lounge where Daye settled onto the sofa then walked on into the kitchen. “Drink?” he asked as he poured Daye’s usual glass of iced water.
"Yes...please," Daye replied. "Uhm...the vodka if you have it."
Surprised at the request Marcus simply looked at Daye for a moment before the water spilling over his hand brought him back to his senses. He nodded “Uh…of course.” Drying his hands he crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured two measures of vodka. He handed one to Daye then settled, a respectable distance from where she sat, onto to the sofa.
Daye was staring intently at the hallway. She'd realized as Marcus poured the drinks that this was the first time she'd been back in this room since she'd started having those unbelievably real dreams about him.
The memories were so vivid that her mouth went dry and her body began to tingle as she imagined the feeling of Marcus pressing her back against the door.
Daye tore her attention away from the fantasy and struggled to maintain her composure. She grasped the glass tightly in her hand, and suddenly brought it to her lips, tipping her head back to swallow the vodka in one big gulp. She clutched the empty glass tightly in her hand and finally turned her gaze on Marcus, ordering herself to remain calm and cool.
It wasn’t Amanda sat across from him, but right then Marcus thought it could have been. The dress was short and exposed her long elegant legs to his view and if he didn’t know better, the way she threw back her vodka would have screamed it, but he’d seen the white knuckled grip with which she’d held the glass and despite what his libido was telling him, it was Daye sat across from him, not his former lover.
Marcus reached out and eased the glass from Daye’s hand before it shattered. His fingers lingered, stroking her palm while he spoke. “What’s wrong?”
Daye's gaze dropped to where he was touching her so gently. She couldn't seem to find the right words to say. She really just wanted to leap on him, but that wouldn't work, would it?
"I..." Daye began. She looked back up at Marcus. She couldn't ever remember wanting anything this much before in her life.
Daye turned, brought her other hand over and gripped Marcus' wrist. She brought his hand up to her face and turned into his touch, caressing him gently. She let her eyes swoop closed and drew in a deep, cleansing breath.
Without looking at him, she started to speak. "I don't want to make a terrible mistake. I can't stop thinking about you...about us."
The grip on his wrist prevented a graceful escape. The gentle brush of her skin against his fingertips almost froze him solid, and her words struck like a thunderbolt. Involuntarily his fingers curled to caress her cheek more firmly.
“Daye…I…”
Daye's mind sang with relief when she felt the Marcus strong fingers move on her face. She opened her eyes and smiled tremulously at him.
"I want you so much," she whispered. "I can't get you out of my head. I need...I..."
Daye leaned towards him. She didn't touch him, other than the gentle hand on his wrist. She understood how he felt. It would have to be her words. She would have to tell him.
"I want you to kiss me, Marcus," she murmured. "Please...I need to feel your mouth on mine."
Daye’s words opened the floodgates on a passion held too long denied. Desire roared through Marcus as Daye virtually offered herself to him. The hand not held captive dropped to stroke the length of a thigh left bare by her dress.
“Daye…” it was a whispered prayer but if she heard she gave no sign, just a breathy moan as Marcus hand slipped under her skirt. Passion, though, had not left Marcus totally devoid of thought and though his body began to act on simple lust a thread of thought remained. That Daye was not his to take. She was promised to another.
Marcus stopped millimeters from Daye’s lips. “What about Drew?”
Marcus mouth hovered over hers, but his whispered words were too important to be ignored. "I don't want Drew," she replied, her gaze serious and intent. "I want you. Drew...it's a mistake. I can't...."
Daye couldn't resist. She'd come to tell him how she felt, but deep down she was terrified to. If he rejected her, it would hurt so much, but she would handle it. She'd be fine, as long as she had this, this one moment, just this to keep her going. She didn't want to leave here tonight without knowing how it would feel to love him, to truly love him without reservation. If after he turned her away, then so be it. Daye knew Marcus wanted her too.
Moving deliberately, Daye pressed her mouth to his. She poured all the weeks of longing into the kiss.
The kiss was nothing like he remembered and everything he wanted. It was soft, fiery, passionate, yet gentle. It was love and lust, desire and tenderness and Marcus was lost in it. His hand slipped from Daye’s grasp to tangle in her hair and pull her to him.
He slipped his other hand around her waist and simply kissed her for some timeless period. They kissed like playful lovers, teasing each other with lips and tongue. They were passion unleashed, devouring each other’s mouths with sheer abandon. It went on and on and Marcus never wanted it to stop.
Marcus hand was at her waist, the gentle touch a firebrand igniting her blood. She was close to him, but still they barely touched. His hand in her hair, his arm around her and their mouths fused together. Daye was lost to anything but the thought of finally being here with him this way. She brought one hand up to caress his face, and dropped the other one to the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to touch him everywhere and she was too far gone to wonder if he would care.
She opened his shirt and let her hands slip underneath. She traced the contours of his body with her fingertips, her nails grazing his skin. Their mouths were still locked together, but she slid closer to him. Her nerve endings hummed and her breasts grew heavy as their tongues battled. Finally, she pulled her mouth away to trail delicate kisses along his jaw.
Marcus eyes closed in lazy pleasure as her mouth moved over his skin. His hands moved to her head massaging her scalp in a slow sensual rhythm. As she moved lower, he slid a hand to the top of her dress and began to ease the zipper down. A memory struck him then of another moment here in this room, when hazed in lust he’d tried to disrobe her, forgetting all the while his purpose. He reached down and gently broke Daye’s warm wet connection with his flesh.
Desire clearing from his eyes he questioned her. “What about tomorrow?”
Daye wanted to cry out in protest when she heard his hesitant question. She didn't want to have this discussion now. She really, really didn't.
Daye closed her eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. She slowly opened her eyes, not even trying to hide her feelings as she looked at him. She drank him in, but didn't try to touch him again. He wanted answers. He deserved them.
"I...I don't know, Marcus," she said honestly. "I'm supposed to stand in front of all the people I care about tomorrow and marry Drew."
Daye laughed bitterly. "How can I do that? It would be a mistake...a terrible, horrible mistake. If I don't...I want you. All I can think about now is how much I want to be here with you. I want to make love with you. Can't we worry about tomorrow…tomorrow?"
Daye sighed. She knew what he was going to say. He was too noble, too decent. He had every right to his nobility. She was wrong...so wrong to come here and tempt him this way. She just couldn't help herself. He was what she wanted, not an obligation or a duty, but a desire burning her up from the inside out.
"I need this...I need you," Daye said softly. She leaned back away from him and dropped her hands to her lap. She wouldn't make him do anything he didn't want to.
That need that was so apparent in her voiced nearly unstrung him. To be needed so. It tugged at him. A hand reached out to cup her cheek again. His thumb rubbed gentle circles.
“I want you Daye… Oh, I want you. But you’re not mine to have.”
"I'm not his anymore either," Daye replied. "I can't be. I don't love him. Not the way I should. I just can't. And I think, maybe, he doesn't really love me...just an idea of me...someone he thinks I'm supposed to be. I can't be that woman anymore. I can see that I'm not the woman Drew wants, not really. I can't stand it anymore, trying to be what he expects. I don't want that. I'm my own woman. I can choose for myself who that is, just as I can choose who I want, and that person is you. I want you, Marcus."
Daye took a deep breath. "I'm not going through with it tomorrow. I already said it would be a mistake. And if you want me to, I'll get up and walk out of here right now, but that's not what I want."
Daye brought her hand up to brush at the dark hair falling into his eyes. She let that hand fall to his shoulder. "I want you to make love with me...here, now...tonight. Please, Marcus, I need this so much, I need you so much."
His last concerns evaporated in the heat of her words and Marcus leant forward to trace her lips with his hand before he kissed her again, letting his desire show. His hands ran up and down her spine before smoothly pulling down the zipper of her dress. It was his turn to break away, kissing down her throat while his hands bared first one shoulder then the other. He kissed along her collarbones before returning to push the dress down still further and follow it’s descent with his mouth, lingering over the soft swell of her breast then descending again to circle her navel with lips and tongue.
Daye arched into Marcus’ kiss. She dug her fingers in his hair and writhed beneath his tender touch. “Oh…yes,” she moaned. He stripped away the material covering her, his lovemaking passionate but not rushed. Daye was on fire all over. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so patient or so deliciously thorough.
“Please…oh Goddess, Marcus…I can’t….” Daye panted as the sensation of his mouth on her drove her beyond any semblance of control. She was at his mercy, but she wanted desperately to touch him as well. Boldly, she slipped her hands beneath his shirt once more, stroking his back and shoulders. As heat spiraled tighter and tighter within her, she held on to him tightly.
She was unable to contain the cries of pleasure bursting forth as his kisses pushed her further and further. Yet, when she was just at the pinnacle, he withdrew, moving back to her mouth, catching her breathy whimpers with his own. His hands continued to run over her, and she turned the tables, moving over him and pressing his body down into the sofa.
Daye wasted no time. She slipped her hands in between them, taking hold of the waistband of his slacks. Her fingertips dipped inside as she worked the button loose. Marcus groaned, his mouth briefly leaving hers. "I want to feel you...every inch of you..." Daye's voice was a husky whisper as she finally slipped the button free and grasped the tab on the zipper.
Daye’s hair swept over his stomach and thighs like a sheet of fine silk. Her tongue traced a line of liquid fire down the inside of his leg while her hands slid his slacks and boxers from his body in one graceful motion. As she slowly moved upwards, tendrils of hair glided over his body setting nerves afire until he lost track of anything but the feel of her mouth on him.
She teased him then with lips and tongue and the tantalizing rasp of teeth on sensitive skin. Marcus’ voice filled the room, moaning past any possibility of restraint as Daye showed a delicacy of touch and attentiveness he’d never imagined possible.
Blood surged through him, his heart crashed against his chest and pleasure pooled in his veins thick and heady. He moved with her now, rushing to an inevitable release. Then she was gone, so suddenly Marcus almost cried out at the loss before her mouth met his in a crushing kiss, their heated bodies shining with sweat pressed against each other at stomach, breast, and thigh.
Daye lay over Marcus. Her mouth was pressed to him and her hands played over his now naked body. Her body pulsed in hot flashes and sweat soaked her skin, a mixture of hers and his. She was so ready, her body primed, but a sudden realization stopped her cold. She tore her mouth from his and shut her eyes.
“Marcus…I forgot…I don’t have any…” Daye groaned, shifting her body against his. “Please tell me you’ve got protection.”
It took a moment for the shift in mood to register, but eventually it did and Marcus groaned. Even now she was pressed against him, hazing his thoughts making it difficult to concentrate but he had to, because if he hadn’t any condoms then they were going no further. Amanda had been adamant on that point in the past and he couldn’t see Daye being any different.
He pushed against her, gaining a little more space. His breathing calmed a little more and then finally his brain snapped into gear. “Yes…bedroom.”
Daye grinned, sliding up into a semi sitting position. She leaned down and rained kisses on his face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she murmured between grateful pecks. She slowly moved to her feet and stepped back so that Marcus could get up off the sofa. She was neither hesitant, nor shy about standing before him wearing nothing but that playful smile. She also made no move to disguise the way she openly stared at his body as he moved.
Modesty was not something either of them had had a need for and Marcus took a moment to enjoy the vision of Daye’s body before moving in to press a kiss against her mouth. His ardor banked for the moment, Marcus let his hands wander, re-mapping Daye’s body. He lingered over the areas she enjoyed most while moving both of them slowly back towards the bedroom.
Daye gladly followed Marcus lead, the hot passion of moments before now a slow sensual simmer. He led her into the shadowed dimness of his bedroom, his hands leisurely roaming her body. She paused here and there to drop kisses on his shoulders, or his chest, to nuzzle his neck.
While Marcus went to retrieve the condoms from his dresser, Daye crawled up onto the bed and sat back, resting her weight on her elbows. She tracked Marcus' movement with her eyes, her mouth curled up in an appreciative smile. When he turned back towards the bed, condoms in hand, Daye was half reclined on the bed, trailing her fingers over her own body in slow sweeps. Her lips were parted and her hair tumbled wildly over her bare shoulders.
The sight on the bed was sufficient to tempt a saint to sin. Marcus dropped most of the condoms on the nightstand, but he kept one in hand. He leant forward, and pressed his lips to Daye’s breast kissing and suckling for a moment before moving back so that he could trace the pointed corner of the foil over her skin.
The corner folded over dulled the sensation but Marcus merely smiled. He wanted to bring Daye back to the fever pitch before they went any further. One hand slipped across her skin soothing, stroking while they other let only the sharp foil touch her. He pressed his weight against her and plundered her mouth with his.
The tender stroke of his hand, the soft scratch of the condom packet over her sensitized skin, the tactile pleasure of his weight pinning her down to the soft mattress and the hot wet ministrations of his mouth combined to reignite the simmering heat in Daye's blood to a bonfire of lust once again. Marcus hands played over her body and Daye couldn't keep herself from writhing beneath his touch.
She couldn't still her own restless hands either, as she smoothed her palms down his shoulders and then grazed her fingernails over his back. She arched towards him, sliding her body under his, pushing against him and rolling her hips.
"Marcus...." his name was a fevered prayer as his kisses started that tight spiral of need winding in the pit of her belly. "Please...I...I can't stand it...please."
The roll of her hips undid him, pressing hot wet flesh against him and sucking him down in a riptide of lust. He rolled them, letting his weight tumble to one side, then pulled her atop him. She rose magnificently above, skin flushed with desire, more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. He pressed the condom into her hand and whispered “Show me…”
Daye nodded, her eyes shining brightly with the depth of her feelings for him. She tore open the condom wrapper with shaking hands and rolled it slowly down the length of him. She straddled his hips and guided him inside her heat, her breath hissing out at the exquisite pleasure of it as she took him completely. For a moment, she didn't move, just sat, head thrown back and allowed herself this moment to bask in the feeling of fulfillment. Then, bending forward to catch his mouth with her own, she slowly started to move.
His eyes remained on hers as he matched her slow sensuous movements. He reached up to tease her breasts while their bodies built mutual pleasure like a slow burning fuse. Marcus’ breathing quickened as the tempo picked up but still his eyes remained on Daye’s. That connection never faltered when Daye reached up in growing passion to tangle her hands in her hair.
They were gasping now, the low moans of their passion a perfect counterpoint to the every increasing tempo. Marcus hands settled on her hips holding her to him while the pleasure mounted ever higher. Daye collapsed forward her hands against Marcus’ chest her eyes still on his, while her hair formed a fragrant shelter from the room around them. The rhythm became ragged, yet they drove on, locked in overwhelming need.
Daye rode the waves of pleasure, her whole body, her whole being attuned to Marcus. They were connected, their gazes locked as well as their bodies. Her hands were on him, stroking his chest, his throat, coming up to frame his face as that tight hot need inside of her climbed higher and higher. The whole world started and ended at that moment on him. He was around her and in her. He was the very air she breathed, and she loved him so much, so completely, she couldn't stop herself. As they reached the pinnacle, as they came together at that perfect place and that perfect time, she gave voice to the words playing over and over in her mind.
"I love you," she cried. "Marcus...oh Goddess...I do...I love you..."
after daye's confession
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, around midnight ***
Her words hit Marcus like a freight train. Daye couldn’t love him, simply couldn’t. The ecstasy running through him vanished as if it had never been and Marcus stared at Daye above him. Not with the intimate connection of a lover but the stark gaze of a man betrayed.
“No….” His hands pushed at her, separating them forcefully. The physical connection between them was broken as suddenly as the emotional one and Marcus rolled away from Daye to sit up facing her, his hands held defensively before him.
“You can’t love me.”
Daye stared at Marcus, replaying in her mind the last few moments. She had felt so perfect, so connected to him just then and she'd spoken out of turn, without thought. She'd never meant to tell him that way. She'd known he might be frightened by the intensity of what she was feeling. She just hadn't counted on him rejecting her so quickly, so instinctively.
Daye's face flushed with embarrassment. She was kneeling on his bed, completely bare before him, both physically and emotionally. Marcus eyes were filled with panic.
"I...I’m sorry," she scrambled off the bed and grabbed for the top sheet, wrapping it around her like a shield. Daye backed away from him towards the door. Her clothes were in the other room and she suddenly really wanted to get back to them.
"I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to..." Daye couldn't come up with anything. She wasn't about to deny how she felt. She'd been lying for far too long to far too many people. Still, she wasn't up to dealing with his reaction, this reaction, either. She had no choice. With a strangled cry, she spun around and fled the room.
Marcus angrily ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Damn it!” Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so utterly blunt but the thought of Daye falling in love with him, with him was utterly absurd. He was a necromancer, a practitioner of dark magic. He’d summoned death itself into this realm and paid for the privilege with the soul of another human being. For that matter he’d forced her fiancé to pay for that rescue too. What on earth was there in that for Daye to love?
He needed to…He wasn’t sure exactly what he needed to do but he was certain that he couldn’t leave there relationship like this. With another angry exhalation he rose from the bed, and wrapped himself in a robe before stalking to the bedroom door.
“Amanda, wait”
Daye was in the lounge, quickly grabbing her clothing. She held the sheet tightly in one fist. Tears threatened, but she refused to give in to them. That would only make things worse. She wouldn't make Marcus any more uncomfortable than he already was.
"You screwed this up royally,* she scolded herself. *You never should have touched him...never should have slept with him...you came here to tell him...to talk to him. You came here with a very specific purpose in mind and then let lust override your good sense. Bloody brilliant!"
Daye managed to gather up all of her scattered clothing just as Marcus called to her from the bedroom. *Oh Goddess!* she thought. * I can't...I just can't...*
Daye was prepared to risk running out into the hall in this state of undress, but she stopped short. *What are you doing? Running away? Hiding? Haven't you done enough of that lately? Isn't that what got you into this mess in the first place? You came here to do something and you haven't done it yet.*
Daye nodded grimly to herself. She'd come to tell him how she felt, how she really felt about him. Maybe Marcus didn't want to hear what she had to say, but she had to say it.
Daye turned back towards the hall just as Marcus emerged.
Sighing, she set the pile of clothes down on the table and rearranged the sheet so that it covered her more thoroughly. "Marcus...I think we should talk about this," she said.
“Maybe a little.” Marcus walked further into the room but he stopped far short of Daye than usual, with more than an arms length between them. His whole posture still and defensive, “You say you love me Daye but really what’s there to love. A dealer in death and decay who sells his skills to anyone who can match his price? It isn’t love we share Daye. It’s simply desire. What we just shared was sex, pretty phenomenal sex, but not love, never love.”
Daye felt so saddened by Marcus' words. Is that what he felt for her? Simply desire?
"I know what I feel, Marcus," Daye replied. "I know the difference between lust and love. I'm not some infatuated teenager. I know my own heart. I love you. Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth."
Marcus’ eyes narrowed. He was becoming angry again. “Fine. Pretend, if you wish, that we are more than we really are, but don’t expect me to pander to your febrile imaginings. As for knowing your heart, I’m not so sure. You thought you loved Drew, even accepted his proposal, but now you’ll deny him? For me? That speaks of fickle desire and not the constancy of love.”
Daye felt the sharp sting of Marcus' words as if she'd just been slapped. She shook her head sadly. "When I accepted Drew's proposal...months ago...I was in love with him. I'm not foolish enough to believe that 'love conquers all' or that 'love never dies', though. What I felt for Drew, it was smothered under the weight of secrets and lies. We stopped talking to one another, and we got lost. Maybe if I'd never met you, I would have gone on thinking that it was alright, that I could learn to cope with the way things are between us, but that's not what happened."
"Drew and I never talked, not really, not since I came back. He didn't want to and maybe I was afraid. It doesn't matter, not now. This isn't about him. This is about us, about you and me."
"Maybe you think I'm denying Drew for you, or throwing him aside, but the truth is that what we had is gone. And now, I've fallen in love with you. Apparently, more's the pity for me."
Daye stepped closer to him, boldly. She held her head high. "I don't deny that I want you. I lust after you...I'll freely admit it. But sex is not all I'm interested in. If it was, I wouldn't want to see you, to talk to you. I wouldn't want to know what you're thinking all the time, wouldn't wonder about you, about how you feel, if you're happy. I do. I do all those things. I think about you. I dream about you."
"Marcus, I can see very clearly that I've made a mess of this," Daye said. "I'm very sorry for that. I...didn't come over here intending to make love with you. I came over here for this...to tell you how I felt. I didn't realize you'd welcome my words far less than my touch. I guess I should have."
He noted her approach, the small steps that brought her in reach of him and he tensed when for a moment when it looked as if she might actually reach out to him. He wanted to do the same, though not to offer comfort or the connection of a loving touch, but to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. He wanted to scream and shout his anger at her foolish assertions but the soft sad way she calmly declared her ‘love’ for him foreclosed any such violent response.
And he was utterly certain now that it wasn’t love. Oh she’d dressed it up in romantic fripperies, she’d said the right things, spoken of the finer feelings and needs love so often evoked but the heart of the matter, the very crux was that she didn’t love Drew, not anymore and that Marcus had given her a means of escaping a marriage to a man she no longer loved, and he hadn’t cared. He’d let her sway him with soft words and touches and, like his father, he hadn’t seen past his own blinding lust.
“Get out.”
Daye nodded slowly, sadly. "Alright," she acquiesced. "I'll go. And I'm sorry, Marcus. I'm sorry for coming here tonight. I'm sorry if you feel that I'm asking you for something. You're wrong, but that doesn't matter. I only wanted you to know. I love you. I don't care that you don't feel the same way. I don't expect anything from you. I never did. I understand who you are. I see you. And I love you. Even now...isn't that terrible. I still love you."
Daye turned away from him, stooped to grab her clothes and swept out of the lounge. She hurried to leave the room, letting the door close behind her with a final click. Once she was out of the room, she glanced down at herself, carrying her clothes, wrapped in a bedsheet. She laughed mirthlessly. She'd have to pray that the elevator was as quiet as this hallway. That way she'd at least be able to slip her dress back on before she got to the lobby.
Her last words barely registered. Only when the soft click of the door closing reached his ear did Marcus move and even then it was just to the drinks cabinet. He poured himself a whiskey, not the usual small measure. Instead he filled the tumbler practically to the brim, then downed at least half of the liquor in one long swallow.
“Damn you.”
daye speaks to sam after leaving marcus
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, 1:11 am ***
Daye slipped into the house as silently as possible. She had no idea if Drew was home from his bachelor night or not. She just knew that she couldn’t see him now. She couldn’t talk to him in this state. Her body and her emotions were still both raw as a result of what had happened back at that hotel. She needed to get to her room, strip off her clothes and shower. She need to scald away the memories of this night, both the beautiful and the ugly. She couldn’t think about what to do next until she’d done that.
Daye moved down the hall, walking as softly as possible, and turned towards her room when she heard movement. Glancing up, she saw Sam standing in his doorway. He was dressed for bed, but she could see that he’d been waiting up. Daye was both glad and sorry at the same time.
“Sam,” Daye sighed.
“Didn’t exactly go well, Sis?” he moved out of his doorway and towards her. “You want to talk about it? I promise it’ll help some.”
Daye almost said no. But Sam had been the one to convince her to give it a shot. Maybe now he could help her figure out a way to fix the terrible mess she’d made. Goddess knows he couldn’t possibly make things any worse.
Sam led Daye down the hall towards her room. Maia was sound asleep and Drew could walk in at any moment. It was probably best that they have this conversation somewhere he wouldn’t be prone to pop in when he got there. Once they were in the room, Daye sat on the bed while Sam closed the door. He turned around and studied her silently for a moment. Finally, he moved over to the bed and settled next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “It’s alright,” Sam said softly when he felt Daye tremble. “Whatever happened, it’s going to be alright.”
“I never should have gone there, Sam,” Daye’s voice was small and broken. “I…I made a terrible mistake.”
“Tell me what happened,” Sam urged, very worried that he’d made things much worse by pushing her to see Marcus tonight. Before she’d been distraught, but now she seemed…hopeless. “I guess he doesn’t feel the same way about you that you do about him?”
*Man’s obviously an idiot,* Sam thought, his protective instincts kicking into gear. *Should realize how lucky any man would be to have my sister fall in love with him.*
“Oh…Sam…no…no he doesn’t love me,” Daye replied. “He…he threw me out.”
“He threw you out?” Sam repeated, incredulous. “What for? Because you told him that you were in love with him? What the hell is the matter with him then?”
Sam was seething. Obviously he’d completely misjudged Marcus Dalton. Sam had thought that the man at least cared for Daye on some level, but seeing her now, obviously that wasn’t the case. He’d discarded her readily enough. Apparently, Daye was far more woman than Marcus could handle on any level.
“It’s not like that,” Daye said, defending Marcus automatically. “It’s me…It’s my fault. I just meant to go talk to him. I wanted to let him know that I was having doubts, and to see if maybe, in some way, we might be able to be together. But I’ve been holding back for weeks now, and we were there…and we were alone. I just…I lost my head. I wanted to be with him so much. I didn’t think it through. It was all mixed up in my head. I love him, and I want him, and I…what have I done? I can’t believe this. I don’t…I’ve never…I don’t just sleep around. I never have. And now…Goddess, I’m supposed to be getting married in a little over 12 hours now. How can this have happened?”
Sam grimaced. It was far worse than he thought. She’d obviously slept with Marcus while she was there. *Way to go, Dalton,* Sam thought bitterly. *Take advantage of her in her confused, highly volatile state and then send her packing. Nice one.*
Sam could feel his anger growing and a distinct dislike for the man in question brewing as well. “You…you slept with him?” Sam asked, having to confirm his worst suspicions.
Daye nodded slowly, her face a mask of pain. “I…oh, Sam…what have I done? I practically begged him to make love to me. I told him that I couldn’t go through with the wedding. I told him that Drew…oh, Goddess, Drew…”
Daye began to cry. Her grief was slow and steady, not violent, but it tore at Sam to see her this way. He felt helpless and frustrated. *I told her to go,* Sam thought, furious at himself. *I may be a bigger idiot than Marcus. Why didn’t I see this could happen? Why’d I go and give so much credit to a man I barely know?*
“Yeah…Drew,” Sam said, sighing and pushing a hand through his hair. “What are you gonna do?”
Daye turned her head and looked at Sam, her expression horrified. “I...I have to…no…I should…no…”
Daye shook her head. “I don’t know. What should I do? Sam, I don’t know what to do.”
“You have to…you can’t go ahead with the wedding,” Sam said. “You can’t. Daye…you’re in love with someone else.”
“Someone who doesn’t love me back,” Daye said. “Someone who made love to me and then tossed me out with the trash. I can’t…if I call off the wedding now, it will destroy Drew. He’ll be so hurt. How can I hurt him that way?”
“How can you not?” Sam countered. “If you don’t talk to him, tell him, he’s going to find out someday, Amanda. Then, where will you be? How much more will this hurt him later on?”
“But why?” Daye asked softly. “Why should he ever have to find out, Sam? It’s over. Now…it really is over. I’m not going to be seeing Marcus, not at all. After tonight, I’m not foolish enough to believe we can even be friends. So…why does Drew have to find out what happened? Why does he have to be hurt?”
“Because…” Sam started to interrupt, but Daye held up a hand to silence him.
“No, Sam, no. He doesn’t,” Daye replied. “You won’t tell him and I won’t. Marcus would have no reason to even see him ever again. This doesn’t have to be something that hurts him. He never has to know.”
Sam frowned. “So, what? You’re gonna just go ahead with the wedding tomorrow? You’re going to marry Drew and pretend everything is hunky dory? Is that a good idea?”
Daye nodded. “It’s the best idea, Sam,” Daye said fervently. “Don’t you see? This way Drew doesn’t have to be hurt anymore. He’s…he’s been hurt enough by me. I can’t bear to hurt him again. I…I shouldn’t. Nothing good can come of me telling him what happened. If we just pretend everything is okay, with time, it really will be.”
Sam thought that Daye’s logic was far from steady. She was making another mistake. He just knew it. But…she looked hopeful again, instead of desolate. How could he deter her now?
“I…I guess,” Sam said. He still didn’t think it was a good idea, but he didn’t think he’d be able to convince Daye of that now. He’d have to think of something else. “I…alright…I won’t say anything to him. You know I won’t.”
Daye nodded. “Thanks, Sam. Thanks for listening to me, too.”
Sam shrugged. “You think…do you want to get some sleep now?”
“I should try,” Daye replied. She leaned over and gave Sam a fierce hug and then he stood and slipped out of her room. Once outside, he leaned against her door, his mind whirring. There was no way he could just stand aside and let this wedding happen, no matter what he’d said. He had to talk to someone. There had to be someone who could make things right here. Sam just needed to figure out who.
sam and marcus have heart to heart
*** Saturday, June 30, 6 am ***
*** Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel ***
Sam stood outside of Marcus Dalton's hotel room door and took a deep, fortifying breath. He'd waited until Daye was surely asleep and then had to wait some more when Drew came in, slightly intoxicated, but in otherwise high spirits. It had been 4 am before Sam had managed to settle the other man in his bed. At that point, Sam had decided that rushing off to see a man he'd barely met would have to wait at least until the sun came all the way up. Which was how he found himself here at such an ungodly hour.
Sam reached out and rapped lightly on the door.
The door behind Sam opened and Onyx, wrapped in a robe stepped into the hallway. The robe detracted nothing from the sheer lethality the beautiful woman was radiating and she fixed Sam with a cold glare. “Can I help you?”
Sam turned towards Marcus' assistant and swallowed convulsively. She looked very lovely, but at the same time very dangerous. "Uhm...I'm sorry to disturb you, ma'am" Sam said. "I...I really need to speak to Mr. Dalton. It's very important."
Onyx cocked her head. Something dangerous hung in the air around this man. It was tenuous, more a link to something rather than something he actually possessed. “What exactly is so important it requires disturbing Mr. Dalton at 6am?” Whatever it was, was going to have to wait. After the mess Daye had left behind Onyx was in no mood to allow anyone else to disturb Marcus.
"Maybe you don't remember me, but we met the other night at Da...Amanda's house," Sam replied. "I really need to talk to Marcus right away. There's not a lot of time, or I'd have waited. But, you see, the wedding is tonight."
“What wedding? Miss Blaise decided to call it off.”
Sam sighed. He really didn't want to discuss this with some flunky. "She did, yes, but then when she got back to the house...she's a mess, okay? I don't know what to do. I don't think there's anything I can do. Maybe I'm a poor judge of people, but I got the impression the other night that he cares about Daye too, so I thought...only Marcus and Daye can make things right, but maybe he doesn't know...or he doesn't understand. I'm not trying to cause trouble. I hold no ill will towards your boss or any intention to harm him. Can I just talk to him, please? Just for a few minutes?"
The door to Marcus suite opened. “Come in, Sam…” Onyx opened her mouth and Marcus cut her off. “It’s alright, Onyx go back to bed…”
Marcus walked into his suite and sat down on the sofa. There was a stain on one wall and on the carpet beneath it, as well as the glint of glass fragments.
“Now, Sam, what is it you wanted to say?”
Sam took in the disarray of the room around them in a quick glance and then looked at the man himself. Gone was the perfectly put together man that had been at the house for dinner the other night. Here was a man who'd been through some sort of trauma.
Marcus looked tired, really tired. Sam supposed that was fair, considering that Daye had hardly been ready to sleep peacefully in her condition. He'd been lucky she'd finally passed out.
"She's going to go through with the wedding," Sam said bluntly.
“So I was the last night of freedom was I?” Marcus replied with some bitterness. “I guess she knew exactly how to get me…”
Sam's eyes widened in surprise and he fought his instantaneous desire to defend Daye. "I don't think...that's rather unfair," he said. "Daye did not come here looking for some last conquest before she settles into married life. She's a mess. She's devastated and confused. I don't know exactly what happened, but I can guess. And I don't know you, but I think you're an idiot."
Marcus snorted. “Well I won’t disagree with your conclusion, though I’d argue your reasons.” Marcus stood and began to pace, his hands curling and uncurling as he did so. “So, maybe I wasn’t her last conquest, but Daye’s as much a fool as I am. She has the puerile notion she’s in love with me.”
Marcus flung himself back down and glared at Sam daring the man to contradict him. “Have you ever heard anything more ridiculous in your life? I knew Amanda was a romantic, but I didn’t think she was so deranged.”
"And why is she deranged?" Sam asked calmly. "Because she's in love with you? Is that your criteria for complete insanity?"
“I condemned Delancre’s soul to eternal torment because of what he did. I fed a soul to the Great Divide itself in the assault on the mansion. I am not by any means a lovable person. So yes, it’s certainly indicative of mental instability.”
Sam shrugged. "As I said before, I don't know you," he reasoned. "I know Daye, though. I know that when she met me I was playing high priest to an evil dream goddess of ancient Atlantean origin and helping to try and use her as a sacrifice, in more ways than one, to bring said evil goddess back to walk the world and take over. And after that all came to a head, without hesitation, she took me into both her home and her heart. I wouldn't have said there was a hell of a lot to love about me either, but I'm sure glad that she seems to be better at this love stuff than I am."
Marcus blinked. High Priest of an Ancient Atlantean Goddess? He mentally shrugged, the whole reason he’d come to LA was to meet people like that. He couldn’t complain when one of them mentioned it. On the other hand, diffident Sam seemed a rather unlikely choice as high priest for an evil goddess, Atlantean or otherwise. “Fine, Daye’s a great hearted soul. She’s misplaced it in this case.”
Sam paused, looking thoughtful. "Because of the things you've done? Things you've done to help her...or at the very least to extract revenge upon those who've hurt her? Is that why you're not good enough for Daye? Because you have this desire to take any risk, to pay any price to insure she's safe? Funny, I feel the same way about her. Of course, that's because I love her so damn much."
Marcus was rapidly re-evaluating Sam’s status as an evil High Priest in light of that last statement. However he managed to maintain his equanimity with a certain degree of difficulty. “I’ll not even grace that comment with a response. Other than seeking to infuriate me, was there any particular reason why you washed up at my door?”
"She loves you," Sam said simply. "She's going to get up in a couple of hours and start getting ready for her wedding...and she's in love with you. Do you think maybe there's something wrong with that?"
“That she’s marrying Drew? That she thinks she’s in love with me? Yes, there’s something wrong with both those statements.” Marcus shrugged “ I’m not sure what you think I could or would do about either of them.”
Sam wanted to scream in frustration. How was it possible that two seemingly intelligent people could both act like idiots? "I...it's not about what I think...or what I want. I just thought...she's miserable, Mr. Dalton. I could hear her, alone in her room, pacing...all night long. She doesn't want this. She doesn't want to marry Drew, but...whatever happened between you two, she's convinced herself that the only thing she can do is go through with this. The question someone should be asking is why, and there's no one else to ask it, so here I am."
Sam paused. He studied Marcus Dalton for a moment in silence. "Like I said before, I don't know you. Right now, I'm not sure I like you, either, but it's not about what I think. I just want to know one thing...you've said that it's ridiculous how Daye feels. You've said it's impossible. You've told me she can't love you. You spend an awful lot of time telling me what Daye feels, probably telling her too, but the funny thing is, you don't seem to be saying much about how you feel. Why is that?"
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Please spare me your American psychobabble. My feelings for Daye, such as they are, are quite obvious. They are not, however, love. I have no intention of making the same foolish mistake Daye has already made. She has been an interesting companion who’s company I enjoy, but let me be quite clear, I don’t love her.“
Sam didn't know Marcus well enough to question the man's simply stated admission. He suddenly felt very weary. Sam shook his head, sighed, and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Alright...fine...I guess you don't. I probably should kick your ass out of some testosterone fueled ancient fraternal right now, but I'm too tired and sick over this to be able to even consider it. I made a mistake coming here. Hell, I made an even bigger one urging her to come here. I'm sorry."
Sam turned away, preparing to leave. He stopped and glanced back at Marcus. The man still looked much the worse for the events of the last evening. Sam remembered the disarray of the room as well.
"Are you...will you be coming today...to the wedding?" Sam asked.
Marcus managed to turn his laugh into a kind of snort. “I doubt that the bride would enjoy any reminders of tonight’s events. Do you really think Daye would want me in the congregation as she swears her vows?”
Sam turned back around slowly. "Whatever happened, I think it might hurt her even worse for you to not be there," Sam said. "If for no other reason then to prove to her that it really is over, to make it real, you should go."
Marcus wasn’t sure of the logic of that last statement. It seemed to be more of the same meddling that had sent Daye to his door in the first place. On the other hand, despite the foolishness of Daye’s assertions, marrying Drew was still a mistake. Maybe Sam just hoped that if Marcus was there Daye would finally face that mistake.
“I’m not sure it’s a wise idea but…I’ll be there.”
Sam let out the breath he'd been holding. He didn't know if it would make a difference, either, but at least he'd done something. "Good...good," he said. "I...thanks for listening to me. I'm sorry to have disturbed you. And...Thanks for agreeing to come. No matter what happens today, I know Daye and I know she'll feel better that you're there."
"Perhaps."
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Thursday, June 21st, 2007 - 07:25am
1318 Poplar Avenue - Kossinton Apartment
Groggily, Reah lay on her side staring blankly ahead at her bedroom cupboard doors, trying to will herself to get up. The sound of her clock radio called to her, reflecting the deepening feelings of her life sung by one of her old time favourite bands. After long minutes of woeful sighing and self pitying, she rubbed at her eyes and slapped an arm down on the mattress to push herself up and sit contemptuously on the edge of her bed.
Bloody mornings.
With a yawn, Reah stretched up backwards, reaching high until that climatic point of her spine cracking before she then snapped her attention back down to the diary on her bed side table. She wasn’t a huge fan of that diary, but she continued to write in it by request of her councillor, storing high hopes, herself, that she’d one day be grateful for it.
The diary was actually only one of three books she wrote in now. Another was a journal for her to keep track of her days activities and developments. The third was for writing letters to “a non-existent person” that her psychologist hypothesised to be something of her subconscious’ creation to give her a companion she could entrust openly with her raw emotions and feelings, someone with an equal understanding to provide comfort and support.
Perfectly healthy and acceptable… for the time being.
Groaning, Reah leant over to pick her diary up and explore ‘what wondrous tasks she had set herself for the day!’ - this was something she idly wondered without much enthusiasm. Hurrah for organisation. Oh yay. How much longer before she was putting lead in her head, she could only guess, *Or maybe I should enter the date in my dearest darling diary. Good practise for organisation! Yay!*
Flipping the book open with the thin maroon ribbon attached, she trailed her finger down the page until she found her day, *Thursday the …. Oh yeah… shit. What a fun filled day. Oh well, at least it’s the last.* “Yet can I be bothered?” Reah spoke dimly to herself before snapping the thing shut and tossing it back on the bench.
She slumped back down on the bed, one leg folded up beneath her as she lent over to pull her “imaginary friend” from his hidey hole in the draw. Pen in hand, she began another letter to Dre’an.
All this - the organisation, the notebooks, the psychologist - was a part of her ‘Grand Master Plan’ to improve not only her life, but that of her dearest cousin’s: Quin.
Deep down, Reah always knew she was seriously unbalanced, she just wasn’t really ever ready to deal with it. Part of her never wanted to. But since the last upset with the whole Hyde virus thing, she couldn’t stand just sitting back and watching her own flesh and blood being pulled down into the world in which she lived so contemptuously. Quin - in a round about way she found hard and bothersome to explain - represented her past, and her past was pretty much the only thing she had to hold onto. Memories of happier days when she didn’t have claws that spurted out of her hands, or creatures of the night that could drain the life from anyone of her friends at any moment. If she lost Quin to that world… she didn’t think she’d see the point to it all, anymore….
… and that always brought her back to her most favourite rhetorical question: Where did her life go wrong!?! According to her psychologist: that was no longer a rhetorical question! Nor did he have any qualms about answering it for her!
Apparently, it was “her own darn vindictiveness” that landed her in this mess. Bloody know it all. Well forgive her for loving her parents and not accepting what happened! Not that her endless battle ever really brought justice to anyone…. Really just a fools errand she’d set herself, in the end….
Hanging her head, she’d not noticed she’d stopped writing. Her pen lingered just off the paper, half a word left unfinished as all these thoughts ran through her mind. What was she saying again? How helpful, exactly, were all these sessions she was having with her doctor. It wasn’t exactly as though she was feeling any better for herself…. Rather she was feeling shit as ever.
Shaking her head, she firmly pushed those doubts aside to deal with later. What she was doing, she told herself, she was doing for the sake of Quin.
For now, however, she just needed to talk to a long lost love.
Memories consume
Like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again
You all assume
I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start again
I don't want to be the one
The battles always choose
cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright
So I'm
Breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight
Clutching my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I had no options left again
I don't want to be the one
The battles always choose
cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So I'm
Breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight
I'll paint it on the walls
cause I'm the one at fault
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
To show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Tuesday, June 26th, 2007 - 15:31
The Armoury - upstairs office
“Uch! I’m buggered.”
grunt
“Are you buggered?”
grunt
“You know, cause it’s funny, how someone who can be so buggered, can still stand sideways on a wall and lean against the ceiling!!!”
“What?” Ashralin shrugged off Reah’s pointed accusation and grinned. You couldn’t really tell he was grinning, though, unless he showed teeth like he was now. Bright, stark white pointed things, similar to that of a vampire’s, that stood out predominately against his midnight black skin.
Reah muttered something under her breath about demons and there bloody supernatural abilities. Ashralin, unfortunately, being the supernaturally advanced demon that he was, managed to overhear and discern what she’d said.
“Oh? Right from devil’s mouth, eh.”
“Oi!” Reah jumped forward in her seat, fixing the black, grinning demon with a pointed finger. “My enhancements are not natural like yours. Yours may be referred to as supernatural: but they’re still natural nevertheless.” Settling back into her regular slump, she grumbled. “I had to go through, and pay a lot, both money and otherwise, to earn the abilities I have.”
The pair sighed in unison, only the rotating ceiling fan of Reah’s office broke any other silence.
“Hey? Did you get those accounts done that I asked?”
“No. That be Yatz you asked. You did asked me to grab you salad sandwich.”
“Oh…” Reah frowned, shifting her eyes to the filing cabinet by the door. “And did you?” She asked, returning her gaze.
Ashralin nodded once. “Yes. You whinged about some beeroon thing I did missed.”
“Beetroot.” Reah unconsciously corrected, returning her gaze to the filing cabinet. “The lettuce was a little limp too.”
“You like the winge much, eh.”
“Yeah, I’m great….”
Silence fell again, followed by another unified sigh. Fan blades continued slicing through the air.
“It’s hot today.” Reah absently remarked.
“What time be you appointment?”
“What?”
“You appointment.” Ash repeated himself firmly. “You attempting to put off. Stop it.”
“I’m not!” Reah tried to sound convincing as she stared lazily back into the demon’s eyes. “I swe… ah fuck it. So what if I am. You can’t make me go.”
“Bet you have no done you shopping, neither.”
“Christ! Who are you, my mum?” The demon smiled again. His teeth weren’t showing, but they didn’t need to. “She’s dead to me. Just like I got your friend.” That smoothed his features.
“Leont’za sacrificed willing for a cause felt worthy.” He finally spoke after long moments of silence.
“A cause I asked.”
“He did be willing. For you.” The demon soberly answered in his awkward use of the English language. “That be it. Enough.”
“Whatever,” Reah picked at the fine polished finish on the wooden arm of her “I’m the boss, so ner” chair. “Spoken to your brother lately?” Ashralin’s brother, Ruarik, was less forgiving towards Reah for the fate that befell their former leader and champion. But then, Ruarik never really liked her anyway, so he could go suck his own…
“You appointment?”
“Shit. I’ve still got that wedding to go to this week,”
“Reah….”
“What the hell am I going to get ‘em?”
“Reah!”
“What!?! Oh…. Yeah….” Reah sighed. She really didn’t want to go, though she figured Ash had already worked that part out.
Every time she went, her psychologist just seem to have a nack for making her feel worse and worse every week. Even when she didn’t think it possible to feel any worse: Hold up there tiger, cause he’ll make it happen. Last Thursday was horrid enough, having to announce her withdrawl from the White Hats to the White Hats. But it wasn’t as though she was abandoning them altogether! She’d still help out if they really needed her! It was only that she didn’t feel like she could contribute as much to the group as the others could. Her field of expertise was only as a mercenary, and they don’t do much with the talking.
Groaning, Reah slapped her hands down on the chairs arms to pull her seemingly leaden body up. “You’ll be right to close sales tonight?”
“I do be. Tao be working, too. We’ll live.” Ash offered a supportive smile in the special way that he did… upside down… standing sideways on the wall. Quite cute, really… if you could get past the whole weird thing. Tao was another new worker at the Armoury. A big black, Maori man who actually understood the passion of rugby! Thank god, too. Reah thought she might suffer, otherwise, come next Bledisloe Cup.
“Bewt.” Reah sighed half-heartedly. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Tuesday, June 26th, 2007 - 22:12
1318 Poplar Ave - Kossinton Apartment
The door swung inward, banging softly against the wall as it emitted an exhausted Reah into her apartment. Music coming from somewhere within flowed out into the buildings corridors until Reah managed to twist her foot back and kick the door shut, leaving her to drag her sorry self across the floor to the couch where she slumped herself down, propped her right elbow on the seats arm and rubbed at her temple in attempt to suffuse her cousin’s music that drowned her thoughts. This was supposed to be reflecty thinky time; not throbby headachey time. Stupid psychiatrist. *Stupid Quin.*
Then, as if thinking of her had been a summons, Quin suddenly burst into the living room with some urgency that was totally lost on Reah, completely unaware that her older cousin was even there! She flitted into the room so quickly, and back out again, that Reah was left in a daze, hand frozen just short of her temple with a look of stark bewilderment plastered on her face.
Had Quin mentioned something the other day about some place she was going, and she’d just forgotten? But Quin never had any plans. She was a certified hermit! Unless this was some strange and exciting activity Quin had taken up during the time Reah was away at her appointments, so she could live under the false impression she had a social life? … Nah. That’d just be too sad and weird. Even for Quin.
….
Reah kept telling herself that until the next moment Quin decided to suddenly burst into the room again with a stylish handbag swung over her shoulder. She jumped with a squeak when Reah spoke.
“Reah?”
“Um… yeah!” Reah replied, vaguely gesturing with her hand. “Surprisingly, I live here and sometimes return home after my days appointments.” She raised an eyebrow at the bag Quin clutched protectively. Her cousin checked her watch and gave a slight jump at the time.
“Oh!”
“Have I caught you at a bad time, cousin?”
“What? No!” She looked like a possum caught in headlights.
“Where you off to, then? Need a lift?” Reah questioned, eyebrow still raised as she dropped her gaze to Quin’s fingers that fervently picked at a loose thread of her bag. “You seem nervous.”
“I’m not!”
“You’re fidgetting.”
“So not!” Quin suddenly noticed her hand and slapped it hard against the bag. Reah continued to gaze patronisingly over the bridge of her nose. “What! Sheesh! You’d think I’d never gone out before.” Reah’s other eyebrow shot up to join it’s partner while her gaze deepened. “What!”
“Quin! The last time I saw you go out was…. Fuck! I can’t even remember the last time I saw you go out!”
“Uch… sooo can.” Quin said, rolling her eyes. Reah gestured for her to elaborate, to which Quin went silent for a while before vigorously shaking her head and bursting. “I’m so not going to bother having this moronic argument with you! It’s preposterous!”
It never ceased to amaze Reah just how deeply that pole was emersed up her cousin’s arse.
“Look. If you must know, I’m staying at Chatsity’s tonight.” Quin propped her chin up. “We’ve been planning to catch up for quite some time now.”
“Really? Quite some time, you say…” Reah stared at Quin sidelong before asking out of the blue, “Do you know she’s gay?”
“What?” Quin’s eyes flashed at Reah in suppressed, anal-retentive outrage. “Chastity is most certainly anything but gay!”
Reah snorted and it was Quin’s turn to shoot the questioning eyebrow. *Could’ve fooled me.* Reah mused in quiet amusement. “I’m sure she isn’t. You are, after all, her friend, and probably know her better than my good self.”
“Your good self?”
Reah stared flatly, “… myself.” Quin gave a tight nod before dropping her bag at her side again and heading for the door. “Uh… Quin?”
“Yes?”
“Do you even realise what the time is?”
Quin paused a moment to re-check her watch before returning her composed gaze back on Reah. “Yes.”
“What the hell do you guys so desperately need to meet up at this time for?”
Quin paused, her step faltering, then, “Just… stuff! Stuff of stuffness!” She frowned, but inwardly to herself. Reah’s expression probably reflected that of her cousin’s at that moment.
“Just… stuff?”
“Mm… yeah.” Quin’s head ducked, her eyes darting a quick glance of Reah before she shook her head and continued walking. Reah didn’t think it had been such a confusing question, but oh well! Her cousin was weird in many ways; why not in the way she lied, as well?
“And you still don’t need a lift, despite that odourless perfume you seem to wear that drives vampires insane and attracts them from miles around?”
Rolling her eyes and jutting her chin up once more, she was back to her usual self. “No. I’m fine. I can take the bus.”
Reah coughed and muttered under her breath. “Oh, yeah, flawless plan. No vampire will ever travel public transport.”
“I heard that!”
“Not caring!”
“Okay!”
“Bye!”
Reah sighed heavily as the door finally closed behind her cousin and shook her head in despair. “Why did you let her go.” She gazed up at the ceiling. After a while longer she shifted back in her seat and dropped her head forward to cradle in her hands. *And yet you don’t even chase after her.* She groaned, angry with herself. She also knew she wasn’t going to move. What was wrong with her! “Screw it! If the bloody girl gets bitten, she gets bitten.” Reah’s face twisted, contorted in anguish as she pressed it out of her hands. “Fuuuck!” She’d have to talk to her Doctor about this, too, now.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
June 26th 2007, 12:01am
1318 Poplar Avenue.
Kyle jumped up the steps to the door through the pouring rain and fumbled for his key. He was soaked even through his new coat and didn’t think he could possibly get any more wet. But he ignored it just as much as he ignored the infuriating, increasingly annoying voice that wouldn’t leave him alone.
When he looked back up, Hayden was standing in his face. “Woah!” He let out and darted backwards. “Look, if I have to put up with you I want none of this haunting crap. No sneaking up on me!”
“Sorry, bro.” Hayden replied apologetically, and unlike Kyle was bone dry, even whilst standing in the pouring rain. “Still not used to how this works….So, where ya going?”
Kyle decided not to encourage him by answering.
“Ya know, bro, that I can read ya mind.” He went on.
Kyle frowned and pushed through Hayden to put his key in the door. “If you’re really in my head, you already know where I’m going.”
“Humour me. And don’t do that again, its really uncomfortable.”
With the door open, Kyle stepped in and turned to give him an incredulous look. “You’re a ghost. How can you feel anything?”
Hayden held up his hands. “Look, its just weird, okay? Don’t do it, dude. And, hey, not a ghost remember.”
“Right, you’re a ‘manifestation of my conscience’.” Kyle mocked. “Spare me. You’re a ghost, we all know it, and I’m gonna get you exorcised, or whatever it is they do to get rid of ghosts.” Rolling his eyes at the hurt look on the Hayden ghost’s face, Kyle slammed the door behind him and set off up the stairs. When he reached Darian’s floor he was just able to stop himself from leaping out of his skin at the sight of Hayden waiting for him. Again.
“I told you to stop doing that.” Kyle spat.
“Ya didn’t say where ya was going.”
“To get me…you…us…” Kyle shook his head, “whatever…checked out.”
Hayden took a look at Darian’s door, then turned back to Kyle. “Uh, dude, that’s not the doc’s.”
Kyle sighed. “I’m not going to the doctors. I don’t need to see a doctor. We’re going to find people who know about ghosts, and know how to deal with them. You’re a ghost, Darian knows a lot of people who do a lot of magic. He’ll be able to tell me where to go to get rid of you.”
Cocking his head at him, Hayden frowned. “Uhh…that’s not gonna work. Ya don’t actually listen to a word anybody else says, do ya?”
Again, Kyle sighed and rapped on Darian’s door. *Please be in*.
“Its open” The Kaoshian heard from inside the apartment, the voice far from Darian’s usual welcoming tone.
No, Darian’s tone hadn’t been warm for almost a week now, not since Liala had appeared back in his life…*Why now?*
The door opened slowly, but he did not even turn to greet his guest, instead continued to look out the window at the rain that fell harshly on the city.
“Darian?” Kyle said quietly, wondering if the fae had even noticed him enter.
Finally, the man took a final glance outside, and turned his gaze slowly to Kyle. “You’re soaking wet,” he muttered with an abnormal lack of caring. “I’ll make you a coffee or something.” The man shuffled over to the kitchen, his body simply going through the motions, his mind obviously lost somewhere else in thought.
“Don’t bother.” Kyle stopped him, slinging his newly-acquired and dripping jacket in the corner and moving further into the room, carelessly leaving a small puddle of water behind him. “There’s a…well, there’s something strange going on I’d like to get sorted as soon as possible.” He said with a glance at Hayden, who was poking aimlessly round Darian’s apartment.
Darian’s expression seemed to grow a tiny bit more present, as he put down the pot he was filling with water, and moved to extend a chair for Kyle to sit in. “Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?” For that brief moment, the fae finally forgot about his former lover, his thoughts now focusing worriedly on Kyle.
Kyle dejectedly slumped into the chair. “No trouble…At least, I don’t think anymore trouble than usual.” He let the tension of the moment build whilst he lit a cigarette, not saying anymore until it was alight nor asking for permission. After a deep breath, he went on. “What do you know about hauntings?”
“Hauntings?” he repeated, obviously surprised by the question. “Uhhh, well honestly not a whole lot I’m sorry to say. I mean usually, a spirit can get attached to a place if they have some strong connection to it, or violent unexpected deaths can make someone into a ghost, but besides that…” he finished sadly not being more help than that. “But why do you ask? Did you see a ghost somewhere?”
Taking a drag, Kyle nodded slowly. “You might say that. In fact, you might say he’s looking through your kitchen right now.” He pointed with his cigarette in the direction of Hayden.
“Dude, this guy has got some crazy-ass munch.” The ghost commented, sticking his head through Darian’s fridge, through which Kyle could hear his muttered voice complaining.
“He’s a fae.” Kyle shouted back at him.
“Huh.” Hayden’s head came out of the frigde. “That answers that, I guess.”
Turning back to Darian, Kyle sighed and shook his head. “Yeah, I think I’m being haunted.” He said as if to clarify.
Darian turned to the direction of the ghost, but of course, there was nothing. Worry lines crossed his youthful forehead, as he turned back to Kyle, thinking a moment before responding. “Kyle you’ve been through a lot recently, more than anyone your age should. Maybe you just need to take awhile to rest and relax,” he said softly, trying his best to put it diplomatically.
The kid rolled his eyes and stumped his cigarette out in a nearby glass. “Oh, sure. ‘Kyle’s stressed out, he’s seeing things.’ Like hell.” He fixed Darian with a serious glare and half-leaned across the table. “I know what you’re trying to tell me; that I’m hallucinating. But I know what that’s like, so believe me when I say this…” His arm waved in Hayden’s direction, who was now approaching them both, “this is something different.”
“Exactly.” The ‘ghost’ nodded enthusiastically. “Also, not a ghost.”
Darian considered Kyle’s words for a minute. If Delancre had messed with his brain enough, who knows what side effects there could be? But on the other hand, he couldn’t simply disregard the boy’s intuition.
“Ok well look. Whatever it is, its not magic, cause I don’t sense anything. So the only other explanations are a ghost, like you say, or maybe something Delancre did, its always a possibility,” he added, seeing Kyle’s glare. “I wish I could help you out more Kyle, but its beyond my abilities. However, Tash could help you out better than me, or even Kate or Daye would be good to see.”
“Delancre…” Kyle muttered, shaking his head. “If that bastard did this…no, it’s a ghost. Right, whatever. Tash.” He nodded, standing up quickly and glanced at Hayden.
Hayden tapped his wrist where a watch would be. “Dude, don’t you think it’s a little late?”
Kyle stopped and sat quickly back down again. “Uhh…what time is it?”
Glancing up at the wall clock, the fae let out a brief sigh as the minute hand just ticked past quarter passed one. “It’s kinda late. Unless you feel its really pressing and that you’re in some kind of danger with this ‘ghost’ than I suggest you wait till morning. Besides, you haven’t been in early since Cole left for England, maybe you should just head to bed now, and take the night to relax; it might do you some good.”
The fire demon glanced between the door and the clock a couple of times, then sighed and sagged. “Yeah, maybe I will hit the sack early.” Climbing to his feet, he headed over to the door to the room Darian had given him. “Night, Darian.” He casually tossed over his shoulder.
No sooner than he had entered the room, Kyle stuck his head back out, and seemed to Darian to point at thin air. “You, stay out.” Kyle said to somebody Darian could not see.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday 27th June, 2007 - noon
1318 Poplar Avenue
Kyle stood outside Tash’s door, hands deep in his pockets and biting his lower lip. He knew what Darian had told him made sense, that if Tash could read auras she could probably check and make sure if he was being haunted or if it was something else, but at the same time-
“At the same time, ya remember that ya turned down their invitation to join ’em. So ya got a bit of pride to overcome. Right?” A voice completed his thoughts.
Hayden stepped up to Kyle’s left shoulder, who remained unmoved by the dead man’s sudden appearance. He was beginning to get used to this. “Am I right?”
Kyle closed his eyes and took a long, slow breath. “Stay out of my head,” he said quietly, then opened his eyes and crossed over to the door, leaving Hayden behind who carefully watched him. Ignoring the invisible gaze piercing into his back, Kyle took another deep breath then reached up and knocked maybe a little too hard.
Tash turned off the taps in the shower and sighed. The water had just got up to temperature and she was about to step in to wash off the sweat of her morning’s training session. Hastily pulling her workout clothes back on, she moved to the door, sending out a mental feeler before her.
“Who is it?” She gave her customary call even as she registered Kyle’s presence, feeling somewhat more turbulent even than usual.
“It’s… uh, it’s me, Kyle,” the demon replied to the call, looking sideways at Hayden who still stood watching him with a curious expression on his face. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Glancing at her clock, Tash did some rapid calculation. So long as Kyle’s problem wasn’t too involved, she could still fit in her shower and a quick lunch before she had to head off to her appointment with Marcus. By the time she opened the door, she bore a warm smile. Kyle stood on her threshold radiating nervousness, his eyes darting sideways.
“It’s okay, Kyle. Come on in.”
Showing the jittery fire demon to her couch, Tash settled on the chair opposite with one leg tucked beneath her. “So, what’s up?”
Kyle dropped onto the edge of the couch, restraining the desire to lean back and get himself fully comfortable. Which was strange, and he couldn’t quite work out why he did so. Glancing up, he watched as Hayden appeared behind Tash’s chair, smiling widely as his eyes roamed up and down her. The demon shook his head and refocused on Tash.
“Uhh… Okay, it’s kinda strange but just bear with me.” He paused. “I think I’m being haunted. That is, I’m not entirely sure as the ghost seems to disagree with me,” he quickly added at Tash’s expression.
“Not a ghost,” Hayden said without looking up.
Opening up her senses, Tash cast about for any faint, wispy identities apart from her and Kyle. There was nothing immediately apparent, but that didn’t preclude a ghostly presence. She wasn’t quite ready to do a deeper search just yet, though, until she’d got some facts.
“So what’s making you think you’re being haunted and not just hearing voices?”
“Ohh… now that is a good question. I like her, bro.” Hayden beamed at him. Kyle responded with a glare.
He shifted uncomfortably and looked away as he spoke. “I’ve… heard voices before. This isn’t anything like that. The way he talks and acts…” Shaking his head, Kyle looked back at her. “This is something different. It’s gotta be a ghost. If it’s not, then I don’t know what to do. Darian told me you could read auras. I wondered if you could read mine, tell me if it is a ghost or not?”
“Well, if it is a ghost, it’s not really your aura I need to read. On the other hand, if it’s not a ghost… Still, we’ll start with the premise that there’s something out there. I noticed you giving strange looks to something over my shoulder. Is that where the ghost is now? Can you see it as well as hear it? Is it someone you know?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s there all right. Old… friend of mine from Chicago. He, uh, he died a couple of months ago. Vampire-”
“That’s some interpretation you put on it there, bro,” Hayden cut in and suddenly the ghost was standing right next to the sofa Kyle sat on, except he was bruised and bloody and broken, and his neck fell awkwardly to one side. Surprised by the sudden ghastly appearance, Kyle let out a yell and leapt up from the sofa. But when he looked back Hayden was looking normal again, grinning at him with eyebrows raised.
At Kyle’s yell, Tash leapt to her feet and opened her senses to full throttle, concentrating on the area Kyle was staring at, hoping to pick up any additional auras. Nothing… except for a spider behind the sofa. There was certainly nothing spectral.
Continuing to scan around, Tash directed her attention to Kyle himself. His aura showed the expected spikes of alarm and anxiety, but there was also something else. Something vaguely familiar. Kyle’s aura contained fluctuations that she’d rarely seen before. Only with her mental feelers at full extension was she able to pick them up at all, and she racked her memory trying to pinpoint when she’d seen such a thing last.
“Are you okay, Kyle? What did you just see?”
Taking deep breaths, Kyle eventually managed to calm his breathing. Almost unconsciously he reached for a cigarette, then remembered where he was and put the carton back in his pocket. “It’s… it’s nothing. Dying and turning into a ghost just seems to have a twisted effect on Hayden’s sense of humour is all.” Watching the ghost carefully, he sat back down. “He just remind- I mean, showed me what he looked like when he died.” *Good save,* Kyle sarcastically thought in his head.
“Good save,” Hayden said out loud to him no more than a second after he thought that.
*I told you to stay. Out. Of. My. HEAD!* the Kaoshian shouted inwardly.
Hayden shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, can’t help it.”
Kyle shook his head and looked at Tash again. “Did you… uh, did you see something?”
“Yes and no… So, you were there when this Hayden died, I take it? Do you feel in any way responsible, perhaps?”
Tash sat back down as she spoke, but kept her eyes and every other sense firmly locked on Kyle, watching for those faint disturbances in his aura. She knew she sounded like some sort of amateur psychologist, but in order to find out what was happening with Kyle she needed to know more about why he was hearing and seeing this particular ‘apparition’.
“No, no way. Not at all.” Kyle firmly shook his head.
“Dude, do I have to go all Walking Dead on you again?” Hayden asked him, but was ignored. “Ya know full well ya are responsible.”
“And I wasn’t there when he died, either,” the demon went on, trying to blot out Hayden’s words. “I found him sometime after. Like, two days ago. He was maybe three months dead.”
“Three and a half,” the ghost corrected, humming to himself now that Kyle wasn’t paying him much attention. It was a tune Kyle thought he recognised, but couldn’t remember from where or what it was.
“Three and a half,” Kyle repeated for Tash’s benefit and shrugged. “Give or take.”
Tash saw the unmistakeable flickers in Kyle’s aura as he denied his inner feelings. “Kyle, I hate to go all Dr Phil on you, but I can tell that whether you had anything to do with his death or not, deep down I think you do harbour a sense of guilt over it. I’ve also got to tell you that I’m not sensing anything external here. The only weirdness I’m picking up is from you. Whatever this is, it’s not a ghost. It’s something you’ve created. Let me guess – you only started being ‘haunted’ after you found this guy’s body?”
Kyle squirmed with Tash’s words, feeling like a bug under a microscope, open to criticism and all sorts. And he hated it. “Yeah, that’s right, I did. So what? Are you like some sort of quack now? Gonna make me lie down and ask me about how I feel? To hell with that. All I asked was for you to check if I was being haunted, not to go all head-doc on me.”
“Kyle, listen to her. She’s on the right track-” Hayden began, before Kyle cut him off with a sharp look in his direction.
“You can shut the hell up,” he barked, before calming and addressing Tash once more. “Look, all I want to know is, am I being haunted or not?”
“Not in the way you think, no, you’re not. Kyle, I’m sorry if I upset you – but if it’s not a ghost, then it’s got to be something else, right? You’re the one who came to me to see what the problem was. Well, I told you what I think it is. There’s something very odd going on in your aura, and you might not want to acknowledge it but there’s a shitload of guilt lying deep inside you. It seems to me that this ‘haunting’ is more of a psychic manifestation of that guilt than anything external.” Tash’s tone turned sarcastic. “But hell, I’m just a telepathic vampire hunter... what should I know?”
“Right,” Kyle said abruptly, quickly rising to his feet. He sent a warning glare in Hayden’s direction, but the apparition – or whatever he was – had gone. “So stick to what you know. I didn’t come here to be analysed. Don’t get up – I know the way out.” The demon swiftly made his way over to Tash’s door, clenching his jaw tight to prevent letting out any harsh insults that were on the tip of his tongue.
Taken aback by Kyle’s mercurial mood, Tash could only sit in stunned silence as he stomped towards her front door. Then her brain, which had been working quietly in the background, finally put together the pieces of what she was seeing.
“Kyle?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, what?”
Kyle paused in the act of wrenching open the door and half-turned, anger and frustration written on his face. He looked like a cornered animal ready to bolt, and Tash’s words died on her lips. Nikolai had already gone on his journey, so she couldn’t ask him for advice though the similarities between Kyle’s ‘haunting’ and Nikolai’s Finding were too great to be ignored. What would it serve to try to explain it to Kyle now, especially in the mood he was in? Despite his claims to have come for help and advice, it seemed all he really wanted was a quick, easy answer. And she didn’t have one to give. Not the answer Kyle wanted, anyway.
So she merely smiled. “Take it easy, Kyle. If, uh, ‘Hayden’ starts giving you more trouble, you know where to find me.”
The demon studied her carefully for a few moments, almost shocked that she’d still be offering him help after the little bit of lip he just gave her. Briefly, he also considered letting out another tirade but he caught a glimpse of Hayden’s shaking head out of the corner of his eye and instead sighed, looking down to the ground.
“Yeah, I know,” he said with eyes closed and in a quiet voice. Then, without saying any more, he straightened and walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.
the wedding preparations - june 30
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, 12:57 pm ***
*** A private marquee set up near Memorial Beach ***
Daye looked into the standing mirror set up on the tarp in the large tent that had been erected as her dressing room. She was wearing a fluffy white robe, cinched tightly at the waist. Tash and Kate would be arriving in a minute or two to assume their attendant duties and help her into her dress and all the accoutrements that went along with being the bride.
Daye studied her face in the mirror. She looked tired, haggard. Her eyes were red rimmed and more than a little puffy from the hours she'd spent weeping last night. She could see herself, even in the dim light spilling through the tent fabric, that she was much paler than usual.
"This will never do," Daye murmured to herself. "I don't know what's going to happen today, but I'm not about to let anyone see me like this."
Daye glanced furtively over her shoulders and then turned back to the mirror. She lifted a hand over her face and ran it slowly down, muttering softly in Latin as she did so. She was pleased to see the reflection in the mirror alter until the woman looking back at her lost all traces of her ordeal the previous night. A moment later, when Tash and Kate stepped into the tent, they were faced with a Daye who was the very picture of well rested health.
The smile that had radiated across Kate’s face only moments before quickly faded as she felt the familiar stirrings of magic within the marquee. She frowned slightly, glancing around the subtly lit interior and then up at Daye.
“Are you okay?” she asked curiously, sensing an inordinate amount of tension emanating from the bride to be.
Daye tried for a smile, afraid that it looked as fake as it felt. "I'm fine," she lied. *As fine as anyone who's about to marry a man she isn't in love with can possibly be.* "Just a bit nervous, I guess."
“That’s to be expected,” smiled Kate, sighing a little as she and Tash joined Daye in front of the mirror. “I’m nervous and I’m not even getting married.”
In the corner of the marquee hung Daye’s wedding dress, the white silk glowing in the dull light with an almost opalescent quality. Kate walked over to it and smoothed out the gentle lines, this day had come so quickly she couldn’t blame Daye for feeling anxious, it wasn’t that long ago that they’d all been fighting for their lives against Delancre and his army. Back then they hadn’t even known if they would survive, now here Daye was getting ready to make a life long commitment.
“Everything looks wonderful outside,” said Kate, returning to her friends. “And you don’t have to be nervous about anything,” she said to Daye with a confident smile, “we’re here to make sure everything goes according to plan.”
"It's only natural to feel a bit nervous, Daye. When Victor and I were married I was a bundle of nerves, and we didn't even have a big ceremony or anything." Tash clasped Daye's hand and gave a gentle squeeze. "But the man you love is out there waiting for you, and all your friends are here to support you. It'll be fine."
“I even set up some protection spells on the perimeter,” added Kate, “if any ‘unwanted’ guests decide they’re gonna make an appearance they’ll get very a warm reception.” At Tash and Daye’s blank faces Kate rolled her eyes, “that means they’ll be dust, you know burn up, it was supposed to be a joke? Distract you from the pre-wedding jitters?”
Daye smiled weakly once more. In her mind she kept replaying Tash's last words. *'The man you love',* she thought with an inner sigh. *Why couldn't he be the man I love? Why'd everything have to go so horribly wrong? Damnit, why can't anything ever be easy? Why can't anything ever just be good?*
Daye closed her eyes briefly, and as it had all night long, the memory of last night with Marcus reared it's ugly head. She couldn't begin to understand how everything had gotten so out of control. She hated herself for what she'd done, and perhaps even more for standing here preparing to lie to everyone just because she was too scared to do anything else.
"I'm sure everything will be fine," Daye finally said, opening her eyes once more and moving towards where Kate stood. "I'm really glad you both are here. I'd never be able to do this without you."
Biting her tongue to stop herself from saying anything, Tash dragged her stare away from Daye just long enough to glance at Kate and see if she'd picked up on anything. The imagery Tash had just received was vivid, to say the least.
"Uh..." she began, then closed her mouth again with a snap. No, it must have been just a fantasy Daye dreamed up. Or a memory from when she'd had Hyde... God knew she'd been bonking anything that moved back then. But the guilt... it was the fresh guilt that gave Tash pause. What could she do? What should she do? It was Daye's wedding day... and she wasn't marrying Marcus, she was marrying Drew.
"Um, good, right. Well, we should, uh... makeup. Yes, makeup."
Kate caught Tash’s unease loud and clear but tried harder to control her own response to Daye’s emotional overflow. Daye was having feelings, very strong feelings for someone who wasn’t Drew and the guilt was eating her up inside. Daye’s thoughts and inner turmoil were so vivid, so loud Kate could barely register Tash’s uncomfortable ramblings in the background.
Almost on auto-pilot she picked up the makeup kit and went to kneel by Daye’s side as she sat in a chair in front of the dress mirror. Taking one of the brushes in hand she raised it to Daye’s cheek and then stopped. Kate blinked a couple of times, the make-up brush poised above Daye’s already delicately flushed cheek.
“Uh, actually, I don’t think you really need this,” said Kate after a moment, laying the brush back down but not before giving Daye one more quick, curious glance. Something really was wrong, she seemed so tense and agitated, much more than just plain old nerves.
Rising to her feet, Kate caught hold of Tash’s arm, casting a questioning stare in her direction. “I think we should probably get you into your dress before we start with your hair,” she announced, walking to where the sheath of silk hung.
Tash tried to control her reactions as she watched Kate fuss with the makeup. Now that she'd zeroed in on the thoughts Daye was broadcasting wildly, she couldn't seem to shake them. Last night... Daye and Marcus...
When Kate grabbed her arm, Tash almost jumped, then followed behind as Kate pulled her towards the dress. With the contact, Tash felt a conduit opening between her and Kate, and used it to direct her thoughts to her friend. *Did you get all that? What the hell was that?*
Kate shook her head, making a pretence of smoothing out the wedding dress with one hand while she kept a firm hold on Tash with the other. *Daye and Marcus? How long do you think that’s been going on? Why is she even thinking about going through with all this when she’s not in love with Drew?*
Glancing momentarily at Daye, who seemed preoccupied with staring at her reflection, Kate returned her attention to Tash, a worried expression shadowing her features. *More importantly, what are we going to do?*
Peering closely at the dress as though inspecting it, Tash sighed softly. *Gods, what can we do? Stop the wedding now? Hardly. We both knew something wasn't right before this, but I never would have believed she could let herself get in such a mess. Should we say something to her?*
*I don’t know.* Kate kept her eyes downcast, brushing her thumb over a loose thread on the otherwise impeccable gown. If Daye wasn’t in love with Drew, did that mean she WAS in love with Marcus? Or had their affair merely cast doubts in her mind about whether Drew was the man for her? Marcus was probably the last person Kate would encourage her friend to ditch her fiancée for, Drew was a decent, honest, kind man and Marcus…
But that wasn’t the point, what mattered was the fact that Daye was about to marry a man she wasn’t in love with, but why? Out of some misplaced sense of duty, or because she didn’t have the guts to break things off at such a late date?
Daye sighed. She was trying so hard to just be content with this choice she'd made. *Why can't I just love Drew the way I did before?* she wondered to herself. "He's the same man he was, and I...I'm different. Oh Goddess, help me, please. I have to do this. I have to. Please, give me the strength to be what Drew needs, and help me to forget...*
Daye's eyes closed as she sent her prayers forth, and she couldn't hold back the soft tears that suddenly filled her eyes. They slipped free, running down her cheeks. Unable to stop them, Daye brought her hands to her face and prayed that Tash and Kate wouldn't notice as she struggled to stop the flow and get herself back under control.
“Oh Daye,” said Kate in concern as her friend’s thoughts sounded louder than any response that Tash might have been about to give. Braking her connection with Tash, Kate rushed to Amanda’s side, pulling a chair up next to her. “Oh don’t cry,” she soothed gently, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders. She looked up at Tash and then back at Daye as her tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Maybe they wouldn’t have to say anything after all, if Daye felt so awful she’d never be able to go through with this.
“Why don’t you tell us what we can do?” she ventured, rubbing Daye’s back encouragingly. “If you want to see Drew, if you need to talk, we can go fetch him.”
Daye wanted so very much to say yes. She wanted someone to bring Drew here. She wanted to tell him it was all just a mistake. Then she could just go. She could run away. She could go somewhere and curl up in a ball and sleep until all the pain went away.
Daye was on the verge, when suddenly she recalled where she was. Drew was somewhere nearby with his own group of friends. He was dressing for her. He was probably looking into a mirror just like this one. What did he see? Did his eyes shine with love for her? Was his smile as bright as the sun outside over the water?
How could she ruin that for him, and why? For her own selfish needs.
"No," Daye said softly, shaking her head. "No...I'm fine."
She drew in a deep breath and wiped her face. When she looked back up at Kate, her eyes were once again dry. "Besides, it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."
“Not half as much bad luck as marrying for the wrong reasons,” Tash mumbled. Not sure - and not really caring - whether Daye had overheard her or not, Tash looked up with grim determination written on her face.
“If you’re so convinced you need to go through with this, then neither of us will change your mind. And maybe you’re right - once you’re married to Drew and you have a chance for things to settle down a bit perhaps you’ll learn to fit together again. I know it’s been weird lately. We’re all still recovering from what Hyde did to us, and maybe none of us will ever be quite the same again. But you and Drew have always had a special bond. You should take care of that. Nurture it, and it’ll grow again. Don’t let it just wither away. And when you say your wedding vows, make sure you mean it with your heart, body and soul.”
*Especially the part about ‘forsaking all others’,* she thought.
Letting out a long breath, Tash relaxed enough to smile. She gathered up the gown from where it hung. “Now, let’s get this gorgeous dress on you.”
Kate wished she could have a positive word to say like Tash but every voice inside her head was screaming that there was more going on here than just pre-wedding jitters or mere cold feet. Knowing that, feeling it so deeply, could she really let her best friend go ahead with marrying Drew? Gaia knew she liked Drew, he didn’t deserve to be jilted at the last moment but if Daye didn’t love him… Kate knew from experience that there was nothing worse than being married to the wrong man, contrary to what both
Tash and Daye seemed to think, problems didn’t just vanish once that ring was on your finger. If anything it only made them worse.
She opened her mouth to say something but at that same moment Tash flounced in with the wedding dress, holding it up in front of Daye, admiring her reflection in the mirror. Kate felt her protests dry up in her throat and so she remained silent as she and Tash helped Daye into her wedding gown.
Daye's smile was too bright, too forced as she nodded at Tash and proceeded to allow herself to be helped into her gown. Moments later, she stood in front of the full length mirror once again and studied her reflection as Tash and Kate moved around her making minor adjustments. "Well...I guess...uhm...oh...Goddess...am I doing the right thing?" Daye asked her reflection softly. Her smile faltered. In her mind's eye she could see Marcus standing as he had been last night in his suite, his face a mask of fury and shock. *What am I doing? When did I lose control of things?* she thought. She could picture Drew standing at the altar, so full of hope, so full of love, but the thought didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it only made her feel worse, adding guilt to her heavy load of emotional turmoil.
Answering Daye’s soft question, Tash leaned in close and squeezed her friend’s shoulder. “Are you doing the right thing? If you don’t think you are, it’s not too late to stop it all. Better to get the hurt over with now than compound it later.”
Glancing at Kate’s unhappy face, Tash added, “Daye, I want you to do whatever you want to do. If that’s to go ahead with this, then I’ll be here to share it with you. If you decide you can’t marry Drew today, I’ll do whatever I can to help you get through the consequences of that. But it’s your choice.”
Daye smiled a genuine smile at Tash's words. She reached up and laid her hand over her friends. "Thank you, Tash."
Daye turned and included Kate in her gaze. "Thank you both," she said. "I...I told you before that things with Drew have been...difficult. I guess...no, I know that's what this is all about. It can't be about anything else. A few months ago, if you'd have told me this day was coming, I would have been so full of joy. There's no way feelings like that just suddenly go away, no matter what happens between two people. I've been...I haven't given myself or Drew much of a chance lately, but it's time I did the right thing, the only thing for me, and marrying Drew today, that is the right thing. I'm sorry if I'm acting all sorts of confused and crazy. I don't mean to be. I just...it's never as easy as we hope it will be, huh?"
“You’re allowed to have doubts,” said Kate supportively, “doubts about whether this is the right thing to do, or whether you’re ready for this commitment. Marriage is a big thing, a lifetime commitment. That’s hardly something to enter into lightly. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t just a little wary about the whole thing.”
Kate smiled softly, smoothing out a wrinkle in Daye’s dress. “The only thing you need to be sure of is that you love Drew. Believe me, standing in front of each other and making your vows today - that’s the easy part. Living up to those promises day after day is where the real struggle lies, but it’s all worthwhile if you love each other.”
*There's the rub,* Daye thought. *Drew loves me...no question. And I loved him once. Is it really so far fetched to think that if I can manage to avoid certain 'complications' then I can't learn to love him again the way I once did. I don't think it is. If I go out there and call this whole thing off, I could be jumping the gun. I can't do that. Not to him or to myself.*
"Of course it is," Daye replied. "You and Galen are living proof of that."
Daye raised a hand to her hair, which was currently still in wild disarray. "So...which one of you took the crash course in elegant updos then?" she asked cheekily. "Cause I sure don't want a bad hair day to spoil things now."
Tash brushed a hand over her short-cropped hair and then looked at Kate’s stylishly arranged hair and gave an embarrassed grin. “I think that’s Kate’s department.”
Daye's Wedding: Kate Confronts Marcus
***Saturday, 30 June 2007 – 2:40pm
Memorial Beach, Los Angeles***
“I’m sure everything will work out fine,” said Galen reassuringly, glancing towards the small marquee further up the beach where Daye was waiting for the ceremony to start. Kate had left her and Tash for a moment to check that things were running smoothly and to greet some of the guests but it had been obvious that something was troubling her. It hadn’t taken long for her to fill him in on the worst of her suspicions.
“Fine?” asked Kate incredulously, immediately lowering her voice as a few of Drew’s friends walked past. Kate looked around, smiling gaily at Darian and giving him a little wave as he took his seat in the congregation along side the rest of their friends.
“Call me crazy but I always thought the bride was supposed to be in love with the groom on her wedding day, not lusting after some else.”
“Well she must know what she’s doing,” said Galen quietly but firmly, taking hold of Kate’s arm just above her elbow and leading her away from the amassed group.
“Daye’s not an idiot, she wouldn’t go through with all this if she wasn’t sure of how she felt. You’ve asked her, you gave her a way out and she didn’t take it, that sounds to me like she’s made her mind up.” Galen held Kate’s gaze sternly, “it’s not for you to make this decision for her, just because of what happened with you and-”
“Marcus?”
Galen frowned as Kate interrupted him, following the direction of her gaze as she looked further up the beach where the young necromancer had just climbed out of his car accompanied by his demonic servitor Onyx.
“What’s he doing here?” Kate mumbled curiously to herself before turning back to her husband. “I need to talk to him,” she announced, piling her scarf and flowers into Galen’s arms. “I won’t be long.”
Galen sighed in frustration as he watched her head in Dalton’s direction before reluctantly turning back towards the proceedings.
Marcus watched Kate approach, dressed in teal coloured silk and frowned. There was a somewhat harried look to her and Marcus wondered if she’d been waiting for him to arrive. It would explain how quickly she’d moved towards him.
He wondered if she knew something about what had happened last night and was coming to try and run him off. If so she was going to be disappointed. He thought that maybe Sam had been right. That he did need to be here for himself and maybe for Daye too. Marcus set his shoulders and gave the witch a pleasant smile as she approached.
“Hello Kate. You look lovely.”
“Well it’s a happy occasion, isn’t it?” she asked, glancing at Onyx who stood just a little behind Marcus hovering on his left hand side like the proverbial devil on his shoulder. “Tash is waiting with Daye,” Kate said acrimoniously with a nod towards the marquee a little way across the beach, “maybe you’d like to let her know you’re here?”
Ok it was a blatant attempt at getting Onyx away from him but since Onyx was technically Tash’s date today rather than Marcus’ companion it was going to work.
“Thank-you, Kate,” Onyx smiled, giving Marcus a quick glance before slipping off towards the indicated structure.
“That was subtle,” he muttered, turning his attention on the witch. “Was there something you wanted to say to me Kate?”
Kate watched Onyx leave out of the corner of her eye and once she was satisfied that the demon was out of range she returned her focus to Marcus. She hadn’t been very subtle with wanting Onyx out of the way but there was no way she was going to talk about any of this in front of her whether she already knew or not.
“There was actually,” said Kate quietly, her voice soft and slightly worried. If he had come to stop the wedding or upset Daye anymore than she was already he was going to have a fight on his hands. She sighed and shook her head, a confused frown clouding her features. “What are you doing here Marcus?”
"I was invited."
“Invited?” echoed Kate with an air of suspicion. “By whom? Certainly not by Drew and if you expect me to believe that it was Daye…”
“Actually it was Daye who invited me. I hadn’t realised I’d need the invitation on entry but if you check the guest list you’ll find me on it.” Marcus’ voice remained cool and polite. “In fact the invitation was reiterated just this morning.”
Kate bridled at Marcus’s nonchalant tone, even now when Daye was questioning her commitment to Drew, on the day that they were supposed to be married, he was STILL all cool indifference. She wondered if it really would kill him to show an emotion once in a while.
“You don’t fool me Marcus,” she said confidently, matching his calm repose. “Of course I know why you’re here and I very much doubt it’s to offer your congratulations to soon to be newlyweds. I know about you and Daye.”
“Oh.” Marcus fiddled nervously with his shirt cuff. “So… you know. It doesn’t change anything.” Marcus directed a look across the beach, taking in the gathering guests and the marquee. “Daye’s made her choice. Don’t you think?”
Kate held her breath slightly; she wouldn’t let him know how much she thought Daye was making a mistake. Galen was right, Daye had made her decision, it wasn’t her place to meddle with that now.
“I do,” she said flatly, raising her chin a little to maintain her assured poise, “but that still makes me wonder why, even if you were invited, you would show up. It hardly seems proper, considering...”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. That comment almost sounded like Kate was fishing for something. He wondered how much Kate really knew. Not as much as she’d like. Maybe just the bare bones and not the details. Well he wasn’t going to add to her knowledge, let Daye tell her the whole story.
“Well ordinarily I’d agree with you but the Atlantean High Priest convinced me otherwise.” No doubt Kate knew about Sam’s former status but let her think about something else for a few seconds. “He does love to meddle.”
Kate sighed. She’d hoped that Marcus might hint at exactly what had happened between himself and Daye. Oh she could guess enough, that they’d been having some sort of affair and that something had happened recently but what that was she had no idea, part of her didn’t even want to know.
At Marcus’s comment she frowned again, her own eyes narrowing on the necromancer in scrutiny. She had no idea what he was talking about, unless he meant that Sam had somehow invited him too, but frankly at this point she was just annoyed that he was trying to change the subject.
“I’m actually surprised, Marcus. I thought it wasn’t your style, taking advantage of a vulnerable woman. That is what you said wasn’t it? Or does it make a difference if that vulnerable woman is only engaged to be married to another man? Do you actually care about her at all?”
’You spend an awful lot of time telling me what Daye feels, probably telling her too, but the funny thing is, you don't seem to be saying much about how you feel.’ Sam’s comment from that morning came back to him, people did seem to be interested in how in how he felt.
They were friends. Close friends, friends with chemistry even but he wasn’t in love with Daye and she would see soon enough that she didn’t love him.
“I…” Marcus stopped he wasn’t going to explain he wasn’t going to apologise not for what had happened, after all he wasn’t the one who’d turned up at his door and virtually thrown herself at him. “You don’t know what happened Kate. Let it go.”
“You’re right, I don’t know,” said Kate warily. She’d felt an inordinate amount of anger radiate off Marcus but there was something else underlying it, a sense of confusion and inner turmoil. Kate didn’t know Marcus very well but she knew he was a man who kept his emotions strongly in check, hidden behind that cool façade. The fact that she could sense such feelings from him led her to believe that there was much more going on in Marcus Dalton than he would allow anyone to see.
“Daye is my friend though,” she continued, suddenly realising that she’d let her silence draw on a little too long. “I think you’ve messed around with her head enough already, don’t you? What do you hope to achieve by being here? Do you think she’s just going to leave Drew standing at the altar and run away with you?”
“Me messing with her head?” Marcus inquired incredulously. ‘I'm not his anymore either, I can't be. I don't love him…. I'm not going through with it tomorrow…. I want you to make love with me…’ Daye’s words from the night before ran through his head and Marcus finally let his anger show. “I think,” he said with some heat, “that you have a seriously skewed interpretation of just what happened last night Kate.”
Marcus took a quick breath and let go of a little of the anger “As for abandoning Drew at the altar. My presence here will make no difference one way or the other.”
“So say it doesn’t,” continued Kate. She didn’t know what she was trying to achieve anymore, the feelings that she was getting from Marcus were so confused, so jumbled that she could barely distinguish one from the other. She could feel his anger burning deep but for what reason? Was he angry at Daye? What had she done to rouse such unbridled ire?
The more she uncovered about this whole affair the less she wanted to know.
“Lets say that seeing you makes no difference whatsoever to Daye. What difference will it make to you? You should see her Marcus, she looks beautiful, and in less than an hour she’s going to be Mrs Andrew Langley.”
Kate felt herself trembling inside as she spoke, she hated how ratcheted her words sounded but there was so much happening here and everyone else seemed too afraid to say a word. Whatever happened today she would never forgive herself if she maintained her silence.
“I don’t know what happened between you both last night, or any other night for that matter,” she continued forcefully. “But I know that ever since Daye got cured from Hyde she’s been confused and lost and struggling to understand herself again. I also know that whatever Drew’s faults, he loves Amanda to the extent that he’s willing to die for her. Marcus,” Kate took a deep breath, holding the necromancer’s eye with wilful determination, “if you stand by and allow her to marry Drew without a fight then it doesn’t matter what you feel for Daye, you simply don’t deserve her.”
Marcus listened to Kate’s impassioned tirade then remained silent for a few long moments. When he spoke all trace of emotion was gone, back was his cool polite façade.
“She doesn’t love him. Marrying him will probably be the worst mistake of her life but there are worse things. If this is what she needs to do to avoid the rest then I won’t interfere. If you’ll excuse me Kate.” Marcus gave her a slight nod and walked away toward where the ceremony would be conducted.
Kate watched Marcus leave; wrapping her arms around herself as a slight chill breeze seemed to travel along the beach. She had felt Daye’s own emotions strong enough, heard her thoughts when she had flippantly derided herself for marrying a man she didn’t love, but hearing Marcus say it out loud made it seem even more terrible. Worst of all, Kate was convinced that the man Daye really was in love with was even now, calmly taking his seat so he could watch her give herself away to someone else.
Kate couldn’t understand it. Why would Marcus want to be here unless it was to be a constant reminder to Daye of what she was forsaking? Was his plan to torment her with his presence until she admitted how she felt? Until she abandoned Drew entirely.
“Hey… are you alright?”
Looking up, Kate smiled as she saw her husband waiting for her. Picking up the length of her dress she hurried to catch up to him.
“I’m okay,” she said with a weak smile as Galen wrapped an arm around her waist and they walked back down the beach to join the other guests. For those few, short moments she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Galen’s shoulder as they walked, enjoying the feel of his strong arm around her. Right now she loved him so much, for everything that he was and blessedly for everything that he wasn’t.
Retrieving her things from the chair where Galen had left them, Kate kissed him just once before heading towards the marquee. It was just after three o’ clock, the ceremony would be starting pretty soon and she needed to get back to Daye for any last minute preparations.
the wedding part one - june 30
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, 3:20 pm ***
*** Memorial Beach ***
The sun sparkled over the water and shone down upon the rows of chairs arranged neatly with an aisle between them. A beautiful canopy of flowers had been arranged with the altar neatly set up under it, and an archway opened up to the area, with a flower petals making a path that led from the end of the aisle between the seating to the altar itself. Not far away, two marquees were set up, one for the brides party and the other for the grooms, where everyone was being dressed and seeing to last minute details. Not far down the beach, hired help was scurrying around beginning the many preparations for the reception that would start later that evening. Everything was festooned with bright blossoms and the arriving guests were milling about as they were being shown to their seats, organized by their connection to the bride or the groom. In these moments, before the ceremony was set to begin, people greeted one another with kind words or warm embraces. There was a sense of comforting normalcy to the entire affair that was a blessed relief to many in attendance.
Finally, though, the guests were settled and the show was supposed to begin. They turned their attention towards the front as a man in white robes took his place at the altar. Moments later, he was joined by the groom, dressed to perfection and looking joyful, if a bit green around the gills. The robed man smiled benignly down at everyone, and a woman seated nearby began to play the harp sitting before her. As the music began, everyone turned towards where the bride was supposed to emerge. They blinked in surprise when instead a lovely, dark skinned woman hurried up, looking chagrined and apologetic. She moved towards the waiting men and spoke to them in a low tone. Sam and Drew’s friend, Matt, were right behind her. They stopped and waited while she talked to Drew, then stood aside so she could hurry back down the aisle.
Drew stepped forward and cleared his throat nervously. “Uhm…it seems that the bride is having some…wardrobe trouble,” he said. “If you’ll just bear with us, the ceremony will begin as soon as they take care of it.”
Drew stepped back and began to speak to Sam and Matt. The guests watched them, all wondering if there was really just some minor annoyance causing the delay or if something more were going on. They began to speak quietly amongst themselves, no doubt discussing the delay.
Marcus kept his eyes on Drew but despite the delay he could discern nothing in the man except the usual nerves any groom suffered on his wedding day. Around him the conversations continued and his mind followeed similar tracks. Was the bride having second thoughts? Mentally Marcus shrugged, it didn’t matter anymore. Daye was free to make her own decisions and he didn’t care one way or another whether she married Drew or not. At least that’s what he kept telling himself
the wedding part two - june 30
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, 4:12 pm ***
*** Memorial Beach ***
Slowly the music began again. Everyone turned to finally see Sam and Tash slowly walking up the aisle, followed by Matt and Kate. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Delays always created tension. No one wanted to be at a wedding that didn’t actually happen.
Kate returned the gaze of the expectant guests, forcing a bright smile to her sombre face as she slowly walked up the aisle, her arm looped firmly through that of Drew’s best man. Teal silk swirled around her ankles, as fluid as the ocean that rolled noisily down the beach but Kate didn’t dare look down. She felt a little dizzy anyway and it was only Matt’s strong arm that was stopping her legs from giving way from under her.
The small crowds of guests turned expectantly, waiting for the first glimpse of the bride. Taking long, steady breaths to match their laborious walk, helped Kate calm her nerves. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening, not after hearing Marcus and everything that Daye had so plainly felt. This marriage was a mistake, it shouldn’t be happening and yet here she was, walking down the aisle, smiling as though not a thing was wrong.
Coming to a stop at the altar, Kate caught Drew’s eye and cast him a supportive smile before quickly turning to wait for Daye to appear. She felt sick inside, not only was Daye lying to herself and to the man who was going to be her husband, but she was forcing everyone else to keep silent on this charade too! It was more than unfair it was down right cruel.
*Poor Drew,* Kate thought sadly, *he looks so happy, I wonder if he knows whose bed Amanda slept in last night.*
The music swelled and Daye finally appeared, passing under the flowered archway and moving towards where her friends and Drew waited for her. She walked alone, but didn’t seem to be the least bit self conscious about it. After making them all wait for so long, she appeared serene and happy as she slowly made her way down the aisle. She passed between her friends and his family. She came to a stop before the man officiating the ceremony and stood beside Drew, who beamed at her, love and relief shining in his eyes. Daye smiled at him, determined that he should never know what it cost her to do so. They both turned to the man before them as he began to speak.
“Shakespeare said, ‘Love comforteth like sunshine after the rain.” The man standing before the altar in the quiet clearing wore a soft, indulgent smile. Martin Veran was a High Priest and a personal friend of Daye’s from her time with the Watcher’s council. He’d agreed to marry her as soon as she’d asked and flew in from Ireland just this morning for the ceremony. He was an ordained minister, so the ceremony would be legal and binding in the eyes of the law as well. “The rain has been falling on you all for quite some time now. It’s fitting then that now we have some sunshine.”
“Beloved family and dearest friends, we have come together in this sacred place to celebrate the love of two people,” Martin continued. “In a world filled with danger and strife, oftentimes love is the only comfort we can depend on, as Andrew and Amanda have come to do so well.”
“It is customary at this time to ask if there be any here present who can think of just cause why these two should not be joined together,” Martin said, the question one that had to be raised, even when no one expected it to be answered.
Kate’s spine stiffened at Martin Veran’s words and she closed her eyes, not trusting herself not to glance at the man who really SHOULD be saying something now. Instead she pushed back all the external emotions and thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her. Even so Marcus’ cold voice invaded her ears, “she doesn’t love him. Marrying him will probably be the biggest mistake of her life… but I won’t interfere.” If Daye was secretly hoping that he was going to put a stop to all this she would be disappointed.
As the High Priest began to speak again, Kate barely managed to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to happen, if she’d actually been hoping herself that Marcus would intervene, anything to stop her from having to watch while her best friend pledged herself to a man she didn’t love. It didn’t matter either way, no one had spoken and Kate felt cold inside as the realisation set in that this marriage WAS going to take place.
The urge to stand was almost overwhelming, to shout out ‘She doesn’t love him’ For one horrible moment Marcus wanted to stop this farce with every fibre of his being but he didn’t he clenched his fists till the knuckles bled to white and his nails cut crescents in his palm and said nothing.
The moment stretched out, Daye’s declarations of the night before buzzed in his head but Marcus steeled himself not to interfere and let it pass with but a few whispered words unheard by anyone but him. “Marry him and be damned.”
“Very well. At this time the bride and groom wish to express the love they share in their own words,” Martin continued. He turned first to Drew and nodded. “Please, Andrew, if you will begin…”
Drew turned to Daye and took her hands in his own. “It is love that fashions us into the fullness of our being--not our looks, not our work, not our wants, not our achievements, not our parents, not our status, not our dreams. These are all the fodder and the filler, the navigating fuels of our lives, but it is love: who we love, how we love, why we love and that we love which ultimately shapes us.” Drew paused. “I found this somewhere and when I read it, it made me think of you and I. I have had many good things in my life. I was born to loving parents and had many opportunities. I had dreams and goals and I achieved most of them before we ever even met. Yet, I don’t think I was truly the man I’m meant to be until the day I started loving you. You’ve brought so many amazing things into my life. Without you, the world I know would be only half formed. Knowing you, Amanda, loving you, it’s made me a better man.”
“I promise you, from this day forward, for all the days of our lives, I will love you and cherish you. I will hold you in my heart and stand beside you even at the darkest times. I will never let anything come between us. You are a part of me and I am a part of you. Now, and forever, Amanda Blaise, I promise all of myself to you.”
“Amanda,” Martin prompted.
Daye held onto Drew’s hands. She forced herself to breath and not to turn towards where she’d seen Marcus sitting. She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she’d never get through this. It was far too late to change her mind. *He doesn’t want your love…he threw you out…threw you away. Drew loves you. This is the right thing to do.*
“DH Lawrence wrote that ‘Love is the flower of life that blossoms unexpectedly and without law, and must be plucked where it is found, and enjoyed for the brief hour of its duration.’” Daye drew in a deep, steadying breath and forced herself to smile warmly at the man standing before here looking at her with such love in his eyes. “When I met you, Drew, I had loved and lost and I never thought to feel that way about anyone again. I never expected to fall in love with you. But you were patient and kind and you took your time. You looked at me, looked into my crazy, mixed up world and you weren’t afraid.”
Daye raised her chin slightly and her voice came out clearer, more confident. “You were never afraid to love me the way that I loved you. Thank you for that. Thank you for your faith and for your love. I hope I can someday be worthy of all your devotion. I know that I promise you, here and now, that I will try each and every day to be the woman you need me to be. I promise to love you and cherish you. I promise myself to you, Andrew Langley.”
Daye and Drew turned back to Martin. “Now, then, repeat after me,” he said, turning first to Drew. “I, Andrew Langley, do swear my love for you, Amanda Blaise, and promise to love you all the days of my life. I bind myself to you, body and soul.”
Drew repeated the vows without hesitation. Martin then turned to Daye. “And you, dear,” he said. “I, Amanda Blaise, do swear my love for you, Andrew Langley, and promise to love you all the days of my life. I bind myself to you, body and soul.”
Daye for a moment felt the words choking her. *I can’t…oh, Goddess, how can I? I don’t…I love…no…I have to…this is the right thing for me…the only thing for me…*
Daye smiled shakily. “I, Amanda Blaise, do swear my love for you, Andrew Langley,” she prayed that the quake in her voice and the tears in her eyes would be attributed to happiness, “and promise to…love you all the days of my life. I bind myself to you, body and soul.”
“As you promise it, so shall it be,” Martin intoned. “Two souls bound together for eternity, such are you bound by your love and vows one unto the other. We who share in your joy wish you boundless love and peace. We pronounce you man and wife. You may seal your union with a kiss.”
Drew’s mouth tilted up in a small smile and he reached for Daye, drawing her into his embrace. He brought his mouth to hers and kissed her, long and slow, the embrace full of restrained passion. They could hear their friends and family cheering in the background. Then, as the music began again, they started back down the aisle, arm in arm, towards their new life together. Daye kept her eyes locked on her husband, refusing for even a moment to glance at anyone else.
*Well that is as they say that* He’d caught the hitch in Daye’s voice as she swore her vows, but she’d carried it through despite everything that had happened and for that at least Marcus saluted her. Marriages were supposed to be happy affairs but Daye had married a man she didn’t love because the man she thought she loved had heaped scorn upon the very thought. The whole thing left him feeling rather empty
When the other guests began to rise Marcus followed suit and with the wonderful detachment Onyx had drilled into him he smiled politely and said ‘How wonderful the bride looked’ and ‘Wasn’t it a lovely service’ and all the time some part of him wondered why everything had gone so wrong.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Saturday, 30th June 2007 – 6:45pm
Memorial Beach
Oz looked down at his bare feet. He had bought a nice pair of shoes for the wedding and even dress socks but he wasn’t wearing them. He wiggled his toes in the sand. Despite the presence of platforms and rugs spread about, many of the guests had done exactly as he had and left shoes sitting outside the cordoned-off area where the wedding had taken place.
Inside the mini-compound, folding chairs all sat at crazy angles and flower petals blew across the sand. Oz looked around at all of the guests and wondered again why he had come. He really didn’t know these people well and, except for Alessa, he didn’t trust them much. They, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know what to make of him.
Oz spotted a bar and headed that way. He was waiting behind one of the bridesmaids that he recognised. “Tash? May I say, you look fabulous!” he said, and oddly enough, meant it.
The comment behind her startled her for a moment. Then, blushing only slightly, Tash took the compliment for what it was.
“Thank you,” she replied, inclining her head graciously as she turned to face Oz. She blinked in some amazement at Oz’s transformation – the only other times she’d seen him he’d been either scruffy and unshaven or recently beaten up. “You don’t scrub up too badly yourself,” she added with sincerity.
Looking around at the milling people, Tash could see Alessa in the distance chatting animatedly with Darian. There was nobody else in sight that Oz would know, so she smoothly took on the role of hostess and ushered him to the front of the bar with her.
“One margarita, thanks, on the rocks with salt, a white wine and… What are you drinking, Oz?”
“Beer. Miller Draft,” Oz ordered.
Oz handed her the margarita and carried the wine and beer. “So Ali tells me that the ‘White Hats’ are taking new members. She suggested I might want to join. To be honest I don’t know what I could do to help. But she also said you were the big cheese to talk to.”
Sipping her margarita as they walked, Tash nodded. “Yeah, we talked about expanding our membership, mostly to those who helped out with the whole Delancre mess. The vote to ask you was unanimous. But really, ‘membership’ is more just a fancy way of saying we consider you one of the people we can call on in times of need.”
She took the glass of wine from Oz’s hand and murmured, “Excuse me.”
Onyx was dressed in a resplendent, shimmering gown and Tash pecked her warmly on the cheek as she pressed the glass into her hand. “Here’s your drink, love. I’m just chatting with Oz for a minute.”
Tash nodded politely at Marcus, taking care not to let her misgivings about him show on her face. Then she turned back to Oz and smiled as she picked up the pace again. “Sorry, where was I? Oh, yes. The White Hats. Now, I can understand after that fight if you decide it’s too dangerous to get involved with us, but we try to pool our knowledge and resources to stop disasters before they get that big. Let’s face it, if the White Hats had been functioning properly while Delancre was here, we should have pieced it all together much sooner.”
Oz had to admire the cool, controlled way that Tash held herself. Here was a woman who was in a bridesmaid dress and still managed to seem to have everything under control. Oz admired her for that. He couldn’t seem to do anything without upsetting everyone’s applecart.
James sat in the darkened observation post across the street. His informants had been correct; Oz was at the wedding. James Anderson watched his suspect talk to an attractive black lesbian. She had to be a lesbian based on the kiss she had given that statuesque supermodel. James recognised her as Natasha Brookes and made a note. No sign of Victor Tek. Oz had probably killed him too. James put down his binoculars and made a note before resuming his observations.
Oz shivered as if an ice cube had wandered down his spine. “Sorry, aren’t you cold?” Oz asked, “It seems a bit cool for June, doesn’t it? Would you like my coat?”
Tash gave Oz a strange look. “No, I’m fine thanks. Not cold at all.” In fact, she welcomed the cooling evening breeze that came off the ocean to counteract the heat of the day.
Oz tried to put the chill out of his mind by going back to their conversation, “I understand the pooling of knowledge and resources. That all makes sense. But I don’t have any super powers. I’m not a vampire hunter or a... whatever your friend Reah is.” Oz took a swig of his beer. “I’m just a retired auto mechanic who can happen to fly.”
Tash stopped walking and stared open-mouthed at Oz. “No super…” She dissolved into peals of laughter. “Oz, I saw you. You don’t have to pretend with me.” Tash slowly sobered as she continued. “I know what you are. Look, it’s okay. There are more non-humans than humans in the White Hats. We aren’t bigots, you know.”
“But I’m just...I-” Oz sighed. Daye had said nearly the same thing when he had RSVPed to the invitation to the wedding. No matter how hard he tried these people would not believe he wasn’t an angel any more. *I’m not an angel,* he thought to himself, *am I?*
“Look, I’d really like to help. I mean I do know a lot of stuff about demons, religion, ancient cultures, and-” Oz stopped. He was trying to sound less useful, not like some super-resource. He continued along a different angle, “I can’t fight these things like I used to. I could be killed, I could-” This wasn’t going like he thought. Tash had a bemused expression on her face that wasn’t making it any easier.
“I can’t,” he said and sucked on his beer.
“It’s okay to be afraid, and nobody’s going to force you to do anything you don’t want to. But knowledge is what we live and die by. Those of us who fight need the best information available. Your contribution could turn out to be invaluable, if something manifested that you could tell us about. The Foundation…”
Tash stared at the ground for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then let her gaze travel up the trunk of the sturdy sapling before her and her train of thought derailed completely. Somehow, her feet had led her to this place and she raised her glass in silent tribute to the memory of those it honoured.
“This place-” she began, then quiet tears welled up and choked off her words.
Fear. That was what made Oz cling so dearly to the life he had. Fear was why he had kept his head low and stayed out of the fight as long as he could. Fear; not of the things that went bump in the night, but of being what he was and not who he wanted to be.
Oz heard the catch in her voice and reached over and clicked his brown bottle to her glass. “Cheers, Miss Brookes. And cheer up, it’s a party.”
Carefully wiping away the moisture from her eyes, Tash smiled faintly at Oz’s gesture. Making a decision, she lowered herself to the ground to sit cross-legged beneath the tree and invited Oz to sit with her. She arranged the skirt of her dress in a fan around her legs and leant against the bark, letting the faint aura of peace about the area soothe her jangled nerves.
“Let me tell you a story about a man, much like yourself, who was no hero. No fighter. But he believed in making a difference. He started the Foundation, which is the basis for the White Hats. The Foundation controls hundreds of millions of dollars of assets. He had built up contacts throughout the world which are still available to us, not to mention an assortment of artefacts and books that we’re still cataloguing. Of course, he did have a few hundred years to accrue it all… you see, he was a demon.”
Tash sipped her margarita. The warmth of the sand and the cool breeze was very reminiscent of her time with Victor in Mexico. It was where he’d first really explained the Foundation to her…
“The Foundation means a lot to me. I have been on both sides of the battle, Tash. The bulk of my fortune was stolen, cheated, and earned with the blood of innocents. I want to be sure that it will be used as a ransom for the evil I wrought.”
He looked deep into her eyes and said softly, “The threats we have faced in the last year have taught me that some things cannot be backed away from. We can’t always hide and wait for it to blow over. It means being in the fight. And it means we can die. If I die you have to carry on in my place. If you die, my guess is Kate or Daye will take up your sword and charge forward…
“Something needs to be an anchor to hold people like you and me to the task. We do what is right, but we don’t seek out the people and resources to make it happen. That is what the Foundation can be. A beacon to other heroes to step forward. Unite. And pool their resources to bolster the next wave.”
“Can’t always hide and wait for it to blow over…” she murmured, echoing Victor’s words. Her eyes refocused in the present and she looked at Oz. “You can pretend to yourself, if you like, that you’re not worth anything to anyone. But even if you don’t fight with us, so long as you put your talents to use you’ll be doing a world of good.”
Oz listened to her tale with a sense of the weight of responsibility that this woman carried on her shoulders. The White Hats were doing good work and it was important to help, even if it meant taking a risk. Even if it meant risking failure – again.
“Tash,” Oz said, taking her hand. He turned his warm eyes to hers and smiled, “I promise I’ll try to help. I might not be the man you need right now, but at least I’ll be there.”
Tash’s answering smile was equally warm. “That’s all anyone can ask. Thank you.”
She gazed up at the leaves of the young tree they sat beneath. “Everything that Victor ever was is gone from here, but his memory stays in this place. And in me… he was my husband, you see.”
Rising abruptly, Tash held out her hand to Oz. She couldn’t talk about G’rnatha. She knew if Oz asked what had happened she’d start on the tale and right now she didn’t have the strength for it. As Oz rose to his feet, Tash whispered her farewells to both Victor and Sorrow then turned her face once more to the liveliness of the festivities further up the beach.
Oz wandered back to the party with Tash. He didn’t know much more about her, but the little he did know made him feel as if she was someone he should trust. She was certainly nothing much like the disagreeable harpy who had pulled him out of the aqueduct.
Oz recharged his beer and her margarita and gave her a quick hug. “Tash, you are beautiful. I’ll leave you to your friend,” he said pointing to Onyx who was closing fast, “And I’ll talk to you another day when they aren’t playing ‘The Macarena’.”
Tash chuckled, “Sure. And Oz… everything with the White Hats goes both ways. Anything you ever need help with – we’re all here to help out, however we can.”
Onyx slipped her arm around Tash’s waist, and Tash gave her a warm, welcoming kiss. “Yes, darling, I’m all yours for a while now, I promise.”
As Onyx led her away, Tash waved to Oz over her shoulder and hoped he wouldn’t feel too much like a fish out of water here. Her concern faded when she saw Alessa approach him, and soon all her attention was focused on her lover.
Daye's Wedding: Kate Dances with Drew
Saturday, 30th June 2007 – 7:27pm
Memorial Beach
“This is like hell, it really is… only hell where everyone is well-dressed, with canapés and, and an open bar!”
Galen couldn’t help but laugh, tightening his grip on Kate’s waist as they danced to the lively tune that the band was playing. “Sounds like my kind of hell.”
“I mean it!” complained Kate, her voice tight and controlled as she flashed another of her award winning ‘look what a fantastic time I’m having’ smiles at some person she’d never met before. “I don’t think I can keep this up.”
“Well the tempo is a little fast but I’m sure they’ll slow down in a minute-“
Kate landed a playful punch on her husband’s shoulder. “I wasn’t talking about the dance, you doofus! Will you take me seriously for one minute?”
Galen sighed, taking hold of Kate’s hand as he swung her out and then twirled her back into his arms, twisting her under his arm before taking hold of her again as before. The move looked more impressive than it actually was and elicited a couple of fascinated glances before they resumed their normal pace.
“The way I see it, the wedding took place. They’re married now. The rest is up to them – end of story. You were responsible for making sure that things ran smoothly, no runners in the panty-hose or a tragic lack of hair grips – not for the emotional stability of the relationship between the bride and groom.”
“I know, I know…” Kate bit her lower lip uncomfortably. Of course Galen was right, they were all bloody right! The wedding had happened nothing that was said now would change that, but it didn’t stop her from feeling ill inside, especially as she drank the expensive champagne and exchanged inane greetings and compliments from the various guests. If she had to bite her tongue to one more of Drew’s friends and say how happy she was for the newlyweds she really would go crazy.
“Look,” she said suddenly, nodding across the dance floor. “It’s Drew, I, I should really talk to him…”
Galen swung Kate around quickly, with such speed that she almost lost her footing and he had to wrap his arm more securely around her waist to stop her from stumbling.
“Like you did with Marcus?” he asked as they fell back in step with the music, his voice quiet but also strict. “That really helped the situation - I don’t think.”
Kate scowled, pressing her fingers into her husband’s shoulder and forcing him to change directions so that she could observe Drew as he danced with his mother Charis Langley.
“I just want to give him my congratulations,” she said absently, her eyes still focused on Drew.
“Kate…” said Galen with an edge of warning to his voice. He didn’t see the point in her trying to intervene now after the fact, making any hasty revelations about Daye to Drew would only ruin any slim chance they had of actually making their marriage work. Taking a firmer hold on his wife, Galen twisted her around again, directing her across the dance floor and purposefully away from Drew and his mother.
“Galen!” said Kate irritably as she struggled to turn them in the opposite direction. “I just want to talk to him for crying out loud, will you just…”
“This is for your own good,” said Galen, his hand tightening around the teal-coloured silk that skimmed Kate’s waist, expertly controlling her moves, taking them further away from the other couple. “We’ll get something to drink, you’ll calm yourself and we’ll-“
Any further conversation was abruptly ended as Kate punctuated her disapproval to Galen’s suggestions by treading heavily on his right foot.
“FOR GO- ah! AH!” he cried out in pain. “Son of a bitc-” Galen looked up at his wife through narrowed eyes. Straightening up he took hold of her hand again, winding his arm roughly around her waist. “Fine, we’ll do it your way then shall we?”
Kate smiled sweetly as they recommenced their dancing. “Why thank-you darling.”
Galen mumbled an inaudible reply under his breath, re-focusing his attention on Drew as he directed Kate back across the dance-floor, weaving between the couples towards an unsuspecting Drew and his mother. As the band changed songs they were in an ideal position, Galen placed his hand on Drew’s shoulder, smiling graciously at the older woman.
“Mind if I cut in?”
“Not at all,” said Drew as he noticed Galen with Kate stood by his side. He watched silently as the other man took his place and swept his mother across the dance-floor.
Kate smiled, waiting until Galen had successfully whisked the imposing Mrs Langley out of earshot before she stepped forward; redirecting her smiled towards Drew. “Just us then. Shall we?” she asked, offering him her hand.
“Sure,” nodded Drew, taking Kate’s hand and placing his other on her waist. The song was much slower this time which he was grateful for, the night was warm though thankfully it was growing cooler as night fell, still he wasn’t up for another fast paced caper, his mother could be quite a fiend when she got her dance shoes on.
Kate watched her partner carefully as they slowly moved in time to the music. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting to sense from him but Drew was so filled with pride and happiness that Kate couldn’t help but smile. His bliss might be ignorant but it was certainly encouraging, it made Kate feel hope that perhaps with a man that was so in love he would, with time, be able to recapture Daye’s heart. They had certainly been very much in love at one point, was it really so impossible to believe that they could be again?
“I can never tell,” said Drew suddenly, breaking the silence, “when you go quiet like that, is it because you’re just thinking about something or because you’re trying to read my mind?”
Kate stifled a laugh, “with paranoia like that you should be working for the government,” she smiled, catching a glimpse of her own husband as he and Charis talked and danced on the other side of the space. Kate turned her gaze back to Drew; “I was just thinking… how smoothly everything has been… I mean, apart from Daye almost tearing her dress to pieces.”
“Yeah,” agreed Drew, his voice revealing just how relieved he actually was. He had to admit that he’d been more than a little unnerved when Tash had ran out there looking all harassed and nervous. His heart had even skipped a beat when the priest had said the part about there being any objections, but now that it was all over he just couldn’t wait to get Amanda away from all this so that they could start living their lives again.
“Look Kate,” Drew said after a moment, slowing his dance steps as he focused all his attention on the redhead. “I really can’t thank-you enough, for everything that you’ve done for us, Amanda and myself. When I think about all the times I’ve come knocking at your door, all the times you’ve come to our rescue. We’re both lucky to have a friend like you.”
“Well… I’m just happy that we can all put the past behind us,” said Kate awkwardly. She certainly didn’t feel like much of a friend to Drew, not considering everything that she knew and suspected between Daye and Marcus. She wasn’t even sure if she’d been much of a friend to Daye, Kate couldn’t help but feel like she should have said something. But Daye had been so certain and…
“Kate?”
Kate blinked; realising that she’d become lost in her thoughts again, so much so that she hadn’t heard what Drew had been talking about. “Sorry? What was that?”
Drew chuckled to himself, taking a moment to sway Kate back and then round again into his arms, he’d never been so grateful to his mother for making him take those dance lessons when he’d been little. “I said are you enjoying yourself?”
“Yes,” said Kate hastily, “everything’s really turned out lovely, the band, the food, the beach… and Daye, she just looks…”
“Amazing, I know,” beamed Drew, his eye wandering through the crowds where he caught a glimpse of his wife – god that sounded strange even in his head! It would really take some time to get used to that - Amanda, his wife.
“And you?” asked Kate warily, “having a good time?”
“Of course,” laughed Drew, taking several quicksteps in time with the music. “I’m so happy… I think I could burst.”
“Then I’m happy too,” said Kate seriously, she knew it was probably now or never to voice some of her concerns. If she could just touch over some of her worries and see whether Drew responded… it would be enough. More than anything Kate just wanted to know if Drew was okay, he was a good man and her friend too after all.
“I know you and Daye have had your… troubles,” she began carefully. “We all have, lets face it. But I know the two of you can make things work. Marriage is… difficult, but worth it when you’ve found the right person.”
“I know Amanda is the right person for me,” sighed Drew, catching another glimpse of her glowing visage as she glided through the crowds of family and friends. “I think maybe I’ve always known. No matter what troubles we’ve had, we’ve always been able to solve them in the past.”
“I’m glad,” said Kate, sensing a small amount of sadness in Drew’s voice. His thoughts seemed to be all over the place, flitting from worry to concern and relief. It was obvious that Drew was aware of something that was not quite right, maybe that was why he’d been so adamant about pushing for the wedding to be so soon.
“You and Daye have always been so strong, able to talk about things. I know she appreciates your understanding…” Kate frowned a little, “it’s not always easy being different and the kind of trials we face aren’t always the same as those of regular people…”
“You’re telling me.”
“But underneath we’re still the same,” continued Kate, feeling an amount of bitterness in Drew’s voice. For a moment his eyes flashed coolly, a kind of darkness cloaking his features. Kate frowned, turning to follow the direction of Drew’s gaze. She couldn’t see anything that would invoke such resentment but as they twisted to the right Kate’s eyes fell upon Marcus standing alone from the crowd.
“Daye cares about you,” said Kate steadily, bringing Drew’s focus back to herself. So he did know about Marcus – well, enough to know that he didn’t like him. Enough to make him hate the other man just for being in the same place tonight. It certainly wasn’t an ideal situation, even if Drew knew nothing of what had happened the other night he surely knew that Marcus had been one of Daye’s lovers while she’d been infected with Hyde, and unlike many of the others, one she had kept in intimate contact with.
Kate shuddered, feeling Drew’s malice towards the necromancer. She pulled him away, turning his head towards where Daye stood, surrounded by friends, smiling and laughing. “If you want to look towards the future, that’s the direction you need to be facing.”
Drew shook his head and smiled, turning back to Kate. “Is that your advice to me as a married woman?”
“No…” said Kate, mirroring Drew’s smile warmly. “As a friend. Daye does care about you, but don’t make her pay for her mistakes forever. Think of today as the first day, nothing that happened before matters, not really. Not if you don’t want it to. You have the rest of your lives to look forward to, that’s a good thing Drew, don’t let other people take that from you.”
“We’ll be fine,” said Drew determinedly, “I know we will. It’s what I want more than anything in the world.”
Kate nodded, taking Drew’s hand again and slowly swaying with him as they returned to the rhythm of the music before it came to an end. While the band struck up another tune, she smiled and gently kissed Drew on the cheek. “Well then, how about another dance?”
a dance in the moonlight - june 30
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, around 9 pm ***
*** Memorial Beach ***
The reception was in full swing. The beach was lit with torches scattered around the sand and the area had been separated from the other surrounding beaches by a tall wooden fence that had been erected sometime in the last few weeks. Tash had seen to all the minute details like that as soon as Daye had told her she wanted to have the entire celebration on the White Hat’s memorial beach. Now, the band they’d hired had just taken to stage and was currently playing a soft, slow song. Drew and Daye had made their appearance shortly before and had danced their first dance as man and wife under the supportive gaze of their friends and family. People were eating and drinking and talking and the sun was still slowly sinking into the water. Everything was just about perfect.
*Just about perfect,* Daye thought, lifting the glass of vodka to her lips and taking a long, slow drink. She let her eyes wander the beach, where tables had been set up and were filled with people she knew and those she’d barely become acquainted with. She struggled not to look, but it was useless, as again and again her gaze was drawn to one table in particular, where a darkly dressed man sat watching the dancing couples with an inscrutable expression. She had felt his presence the moment he’d walked up and taken his seat during the ceremony. She’d not looked at him. She’d exercised great restraint in concentrating solely on Drew as she’d made her vows. She’d managed mostly not to cry and as no one had asked, Daye could only assume her smile looked far more genuine than it felt. Drew was around somewhere, mingling with loved ones. She knew that the happiness he felt was real, and surely if she just kept trying that would be enough.
Still, Daye couldn’t stop glancing in Marcus’ direction whenever she was sure he wasn’t looking. She made sure to look away if he even glanced in her general direction. It would never do for him to find her watching. He didn’t want her love. He probably wouldn’t appreciate her attention.
*He's told you what he feels,* Daye warned herself, as the vodka burned a line of sorrow deep down into her belly. *You promised yourself you'd not do this. Drew loves you. He loves Maia. You're a family, for better or for worse now. You have to let go.*
Daye laughed mirthlessly at her suddenly sensible inner voice. Where had it been when she'd so recklessly let herself fall in love with a man like Marcus Dalton, a man so completely ill equipped for her love. Finishing the vodka, she signaled the passing waiter for another one, knowing full well that the drink was part of the exquisite torture this night was turning out to be. *If I drink enough of it, though, maybe I can forget...maybe for just a minute. Goddess...please.*
Daye closed her eyes and turned her face towards the darkening sky, sending her fervent prayers into the air.
Marcus stared into his mineral water and grimaced, though at least it was still. He should never have come. There was no good reason to be putting any of them through this torture and however much Daye and Drew might appear to be happy he’d caught enough sidelong glances from both of them to know they were…unhappy with his presence.
Still Sam had been sort of right, or at least convincing. He did need to be here, if only to see how far he truly had fallen. Marcus pushed the glass of expensive water away from him and gestured to a waiter. If he was going to be his father he might as well go the whole hog.
“Whiskey. Neat”
The liquor arrived and Marcus didn’t bother to appreciate the amber color in the torch light nor did he savor the smoky taste. He just threw the drink back and swallowed, letting it burn its way down his throat and bring tears to his eyes.
Daye opened her eyes just as the waiter set her glass down. She picked it up and stared into the clear liquid in the dancing light from the fires. Suddenly, it was all too much. She set the glass down on the table and stood. She’d kicked off her shoes earlier to make it easier to walk across the shifting sand. Barefoot now, she moved quickly out of the ring of light and into the shadows, heading for the shoreline.
Marcus watched her go. He didn’t seem to be able to stop himself. He just let his eyes follow her into the darkness by the shore. His eyes traveled up and down the line of her dress as it and his mind replayed her words from the night before. *I love you…* Well wasn’t that a joke? Oh he’d done just about the worst thing imaginable in response, but still, if she loved him, why was she wearing that dress? Why were any of them here?
He didn’t remember moving, didn’t remember walking through the light with the sand shifting under his dress shoes, but here he was standing at the edge of the torchlight watching Daye watch the sea. Her wedding dress was all but glowing in the moonlight.
She didn’t love him. He certainly didn’t love her. They’d just given into their mutual passion at the worst possible moment. He should turn around… leave her alone with her thoughts and just ignore everything.
*She doesn’t love Drew either…* The thought sidled through his brain and against his better judgment he was moving, the damp sand of the shoreline crunching underfoot until he was just behind her.
Daye heard the footsteps approaching, the sound of someone moving across the wet sand. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to slip back into the cheery smile she'd worn all night.
"I just needed a spot of air," Daye said over her shoulder. She hoped she was injecting the right mixture of emotions into her words. "I'll be back to the party in just a moment."
”I don’t think they’ve missed you quite yet…” Marcus replied while still wondering exactly what he was doing here. He doubted Daye wanted any reminders of last night.
Daye stiffened at the sound of that voice. *Why? Why him?*
She turned, almost against her will, until she was facing him and despite the pain he'd caused her just last night, she couldn't stop herself from drinking in the sight of him standing so close in the shadowy light of dancing torches and the slowly rising moon.
"I...I was just going to head back," Daye lied. The last thing she wanted was to walk away from him right now. "You didn't need to come after me. I'm fine."
Well, that was clear enough. He’d not been given quite as obvious a brush off in some time. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Marcus broke off. He wasn’t going to back track. He’d come down here for goodness knows what reason, but he was not going to let Daye’s justifiable manner drive him away.
"I know you didn't want me to be here, but Sam...Well, Sam insisted. I..."
Daye frowned and shook her head. "No, you're wrong, Marcus," she said. "I don't mind your being here. I'm glad you came. I just...I'm sorry about last night. I should never have...Sam convinced me...but he was wrong. I was wrong. I had no right to put you in that position."
Daye glanced up at the circle of light where her friends and Drew's family all laughed and talked together. The music from the band wrapped around her. "This is what I'm supposed to do. This is where I'm supposed to be. Drew needs me. I should never have...it was very selfish of me, and I'm really sorry."
*This is where you’re supposed to be?* Marcus wanted to shake Daye. *Your blasted martyr complex.* Marcus kept a pleasant smile on his face and fought down the impulse to make an even greater mistake than last night - telling the bride on her wedding day that she’d made a horrible mistake.
Well he wouldn’t do that, so Marcus found himself forced to do what he really didn’t want to - congratulate the bride. “He loves you and I hope you’ll both be very happy.”
Daye sighed. "I'm going to do my best," she said softly. She turned her head as the band struck up yet another song. This was it. This stiff formality, this terrible discomfort, this was the penance for her foolish weakness with Marcus. They would most likely never again be at ease with each other. Perhaps this would be the last time they ever talked like this, the last time they might have to say anything important.
"I...I'm sorry that I dragged you into our mess, Marcus," Daye looked up at him. He was watching her with such guarded eyes. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
“I know…” Marcus looked at Daye. She was sorry for everything that happened, so was he. It just seemed that for all their good intentions they hadn’t been able to avoid the train-wreck.
The soft moonlight, the distant sound of the band mingling with the sussuration of the sea, even the damp sand underfoot, the whole scene was one made for lovers. Marcus let his eyes linger over Daye and he held out his hand. He wanted to hold her one last time. “Dance with me?”
Daye stared at Marcus outstretched hand for an endless moment. She knew it would be a mistake. She knew that the moment she touched him she'd be lost again, but really, was there any choice?
Daye took his hand and stepped closer to him. She let her eyes drift closed as they began to move on the sand. She felt the bittersweet tears tickling the back of her throat.
For just this moment, Daye could pretend. With her eyes closed and the sound of the surf mixing with the music, she could breathe deeply of Marcus’ scent and make believe that she hadn't just married another man. She could pretend that he'd not rejected her and the love she offered. It was both heaven and hell at the same time being there in his arms.
She was pressed gently against him and they moved together to the half heard music. He wished things could be different, that Daye hadn’t married Drew, that he really had spoken up at the ceremony.
Held in her arms he could almost believe that she did love him. He could almost believe it all. He pulled back slightly to see the tears shining in her eyes and he knew they were mirrored in his own. The song wound down and they stood facing each other.
Marcus’ eyes dropped to Daye’s soft lips then back up to her eyes. He leant forward.
Daye saw the sadness in Marcus' eyes. She knew as he moved closer that he was about to kiss her. She also knew it could be nothing more than a goodbye. She didn't move away.
Marcus lips gently brushed hers, soft and sweet. Daye felt the pain of that kiss clear to her soul. She loved this man, but that love wasn't enough, could never be enough. Marcus drew away and they stood staring silently at one another.
“I’m sorry, Daye.” Marcus turned away from her and walked toward the reception. He did not look back.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
1st July 2007 3:07am
The Peninsula Beverly Hills Hotel
Los Angeles
Marcus stood by the window gazing out into the darkened night at the lights of Los Angeles beyond. Behind him on the table was a glass of whiskey but despite having poured it as soon as he’d got back from Daye’s wedding, he hadn’t touched it.
He needed to think and he’d drunk enough alcohol already tonight. A sigh escaped his lips and he was close enough to the glass that it clouded with condensation. The last few days had been so confusing. His emotions had whipsawed from side to side and dragged his thoughts with them. Now though, with the wedding done, it was time to take stock, time to think.
He remembered when he first met Daye; no Amanda. A potent cocktail of dark magic and blatant sensuality - a fire apt to scorch any man who came too close and Marcus could admit to himself that he’d wanted to be burned.
He hadn’t been disappointed when Amanda had made her move, nor had he been with the affair that followed with its passion unlike anything Marcus had experienced before. The inconsistencies had crept in though and he couldn’t leave well enough alone. Marcus snorted. No, he’d never been one to let something bide.
So he’d discovered Hyde or rather Onyx had and he’d ordered Amanda cured. That afternoon at Aspen was when he’d first met Daye and the fire was still there, different from Amanda’s – less dark, less destructive almost. Which was ironic really considering where that fervour had led her.
Into a dungeon from which she’d needed rescuing. A rescue he’d made Drew pay for. He’d disliked the man from the start. For being weak, for being willing to give anything for a rescue he couldn’t affect himself. So Marcus had made him pay – for Daye’s words spoken in ignorance, for being the man Daye would marry. For taking that fire away from him.
Marcus walked back to the glass of whiskey and picked it up. Held it to the lights and let them sparkle through the amber liquid for a few seconds before taking the tiniest sip. Just a taste, no more.
He remembered being in that dungeon, seeing Daye all but extinguished while her betrayer stood over her. His hands sullying her body. Marcus had known rage then, real rage, not the cold calculating anger he was familiar with, but absolute all consuming rage.
He’d shot Forth in the grip of that rage. There had been no thought just a desire to see him dead and the man had died. That had been enough for then, it had assuaged the pain and given Marcus time to invoke his cold merciless powers to cover their escape.
Marcus settled into a chair, glass still in hand and his face softened with the faintest of smiles. Daye had accepted those powers. She understood enough to know just what he had done and unlike Kate who simply tolerated them in light of the necessity Daye had accepted them. It was that acceptance that had turned a former lover and one of many acquaintances – Kate, Tash even Nikolai - into a friend, quite possibly the first friend he’d had.
That hadn’t worked despite him trying. He’d given her advice with out judging her, he’d stood back and let her pour herself back into the mold left cracked and flawed by Hyde but it hadn’t worked. They’d struck sparks from one another whenever they met and they’d both known it. There was too much desire between them for them to be just friends.
Finally that lust had breached their self proscribed boundaries and they’d fallen together. The night before the wedding had been everything he remembered with Amanda and more besides, it had been everything he wanted from Daye right up until the point of her declaration. Which he’d handled badly, he knew, but it had been such a shock. He didn’t love Daye and right up until that moment had had no idea that Daye herself eentertained such notions. He hadn’t known how to deal with it, hadn’t known what to say or do so he’d lashed out. But he was certain he basic response was correct – Daye didn’t love him
Oh, she thought she did he’d give her that much but he’d figured it out. Daye couldn’t deal with their desire not simple lust she needed her feelings to be a little finer than that. So if she was going to admit she wanted Marcus, and more importantly was going to act on it she had to love him. She couldn’t be any other way.
All of which was pretty much immaterial, He didn’t love Daye, couldn’t love her. He may want to warm himself at her fire but had he let her pretend to love him he would have quenched it in the end. A loveless marriage might not be much better but as he’d told Kate it was better.
Sam had been right. He had needed to go to the wedding not though to show Daye it was over but to show himself. He’d thrown her out of his hotel room and then let her marry Drew, what ever had been between them was ashes and he needed to move on.
To what was the question though, his studies? The Whitehats? The first didn’t appeal as much as it once did. Solitary exploration of necromantic knowledge didn’t appeal not after his sessions with Tash. As for the whitehats their goal was acceptable but their altruism didn’t sit well with him. If he was going to protect La possible even the world he wanted somnething out of it. That didn’t even address that increasing his dealings with the ‘hat’s would inevitably place him in greater contact with Daye and that was likely to be…uncomfortable.
So, not the White Hats he wasn’t a white knight. *Ah!* Marcus stopped for a second and looked down at hios drink. He swirled the liquor around the glass for a moment then swallowed it down. Who said he had to save L.A. for no reward?
The white hat’s were disorganised relying on individual abilities and awarenesses. It was how delancre caught them and the brotherhood before them. No he’d save L.A. and possibly the world but he’d do it from a position of power a position of control. Yes that would work it would take time and effort and it would be very worthy of his skills.
Yes that was it. He’d make LA his.
the wedding night - june 30
*** Saturday, June 30, 2007, 10 pm ***
Daye sat with her head back against the headrest and her eyes closed as the car came to a stop before the hotel. She didn’t want to open them. She didn’t want to see Drew sitting there beside her as she’d seen him when they’d climbed into the car. She couldn’t bear his hopeful, nervous smile. Her stomach gave a little lurch when he reached out and gently touched her bare shoulder. Tension mixed with too much expensive vodka was making her feel physically ill. “Baby,” his voice intruded, “we’re here.”
Daye slowly opened her eyes and forced herself to smile up at Drew, who hovered anxiously over her. “Already?” she asked softly. “I hadn’t realized it was so close.”
Drew smiled crookedly. He slid out of the car and then bent over to help Daye out as well. She forced herself to smile back at him as he took her hand and led her into the hotel. She tried to focus on him and him alone, but in her mind she was replaying those few moments on a moonlit beach not so far away. She could still feel the warmth that had flooded through her body at being held in his arms. She wondered if she would ever feel normal again. She wondered how she would ever make it through this night and all the nights to come after.
Drew led Daye to the front desk and greeted the clerk there. He signed the appropriate slips and took the keys. Moments later, they were ensconced in the elevator, his arms around Daye as they rode up and up to the honeymoon suite. Daye forced herself to relax and try to enjoy the embrace. Inside she was so tense and nervous, but she fought for a calm outward appearance. There was no going back now. Hours earlier she’d said her vows and pledged herself to Drew. Now it was time to start living up to those promises.
The elevator doors slid open and before Daye could step out, Drew swung her up into his arms. She squealed in protest. “What are you doing?” she asked, laughing despite herself. “I can walk.”
“Sure, you can, but you’re not going to,” Drew replied, grinning. He paused in the hall to lean forward and give Daye a quick, hard kiss. “I’m your husband now. I happen to have it on good authority that there are certain…privileges that go along with that.”
“Really?” Daye arched an eyebrow. She craned her head around to look as Drew stopped in front of a door and maneuvered her so that he could slide the keycard and open it. “So, does that mean I can expect to be manhandled often?”
“As often as I can manage,” Drew answered, swinging her to her feet in the entryway to the suite. He kicked the door closed behind them, keeping Daye in his arms. Looking serious, Drew leaned towards her. “Amanda…I love you,” he said. “Tonight, I’m the happiest man in the world.”
“Oh, Drew,” Daye sighed. She wanted so much to share in his joy. She wanted to forget Marcus Dalton and all the pain knowing him had caused her. *I can do this. I will do this. This is my life, my choice. I know I can make it right.*
“Drew…” Daye smiled tremulously. “Goddess knows, I don’t deserve you. But I want to.”
Daye stretched up and placed her mouth against his. She pushed all thoughts but Drew from her mind and poured all her hope and longing into the embrace. Drew responded without hesitation, pulling her against his body and deepening the kiss. Kissing Amanda, holding her, were things that he’d thought recently he’d never be able to do, but now, here, he felt so complete. His anger and resentment were melting away in light of the hope and promise he felt tonight.
With her eyes closed and Drew’s kiss wrapping around her senses, Daye found her mind wandering to another man’s kisses. Her body suffused with warmth and she was lost in the sensation, but in her imagination, it was Marcus who held her, Marcus whose mouth worked such magic on her own. She moaned as sensations swamped her, and then suddenly realized what was happening.
*Damn it, no…no way!* Daye chided herself. *You have to stop this now. Right here. It’s not going to happen.*
Daye pulled back slightly and brought her hands up to frame Drew’s face. She stared into his eyes for a moment, and then, determined, brought her mouth back to his. *It’s Drew…Drew…Drew…* her thoughts were a reminder as she kissed her husband, focusing solely on him. Daye dug her fingers in his hair and reminded herself how much this man had meant to her only a few short weeks ago. If she could just let go of her own resentments and get past what she’d been feeling for Marcus, then she could recapture what she’d once had. She could do this.
Drew held Daye as closely to him as possible. His hands rested on her back and he pressed her against the wall as his need for her spiraled wildly out of control. When she pulled away, panting, he leaned his forehead against hers and spoke in a ragged whisper. “Baby, Baby, Baby…I’ve missed you so much. I should never have stayed away. I’m so sorry.”
Daye shook her head, feeling a fresh surge of guilt at his words. She’d wanted him to come to her before, to offer her comfort and understanding. Now, though, she just felt sick at the thought of what she’d done to him. She didn’t deserve his apology. She owed him one. She didn’t deserve his understanding. She deserved his scorn.
“No, Baby, Amanda…my love…listen,” Drew insisted, cradling her in his arms. “You…you needed things from me and I didn’t want to give them. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for shutting you down and for pushing you away. I promise, whatever you need from here on out, that’s what I’ll be. Because I never want to lose you, and I never, ever want to disappoint you.”
Drew bent and brushed his lips over her bare shoulder while he brought a hand around to begin pulling pins from her elegantly upswept hair. He loosened it, running his fingers through the cool weight. “I love you, Amanda. I’ve never loved anyone in my life the way that I love you, and I know, whatever comes tomorrow, I’ll never love anyone this way again.”
While Drew stroked her face and neck, Daye’s head fell back and she arched into his body, moaning softly. It seemed so long ago, but she could remember how this felt, to have Drew touching her without reservation. A part of her deep inside had longed for this, but on another level she felt strange to be intimate with him again.
*And Marcus,* her nagging inner voice wouldn’t remain totally silent. Her body responded to Drew’s touch, and if she focused she could try and connect with him, but a part of her was holding back. She’d been with Marcus just last night. She’d loved him with everything she was, and whatever he had done, whatever he had felt, that didn’t change her. Being here, with Drew, like this, it wasn’t right. She loved Marcus…but he didn’t want her.
Daye let her eyes slide shut. Her mind was full of turmoil. What was right was so hard, and what was wrong was so easy. Why could she love a man who didn’t love her without hesitation, but have to struggle to love a man who did? It was ridiculous. She could easily give her body to Drew, but while she did, she felt this terrible sense of guilt. Marcus didn’t deserve her loyalty. Why should she feel bad for betraying her love for him? He’d thrown that love away.
“Mmmm, Baby,” Drew was nuzzling her neck. “I want to take you to bed. I want to make love with you now. It’s been a lifetime since I held you in my arms.”
*Am I ready?* Daye thought to herself. *Will I ever be?*
She opened her eyes and looked at Drew. His eyes were full of passion and his mouth curved in a tender, loving smile. She couldn’t give him the love he wanted, not yet, but she could do this. She could make love to him, and make him believe. For now, that would have to be enough.
At Daye’s nod, Drew picked her back up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. *Everything is going to be alright,* he thought as he laid her down on the bed and moved to join her there.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Saturday, June 30th, 2007 – 18:00
1318 Poplar Avenue – Kossinton Apartment
The window ledge had started gathering some dust, and by some dust, meant a lot of it. Had it really been that long since she last spring-cleaned the apartment? Not that she really cared. Even if she did clear it away and polish it up, the dust would just return again. It always did. Unlike some other aspects in Reah’s life.
She sat cross-legged on a chair, gazing out the second story window with her head supported in her hand that leant against the windowsill. She was so lonely.
Daye’s wedding was so beautiful. Daye was so beautiful. Reah could be happy for her, but it didn’t lessen the loneliness any, only increased it. She’d stayed for the whole ceremony, willed herself to watch from where she’d situated herself up the back with Quin, away from any immediate attention. When it came time for the reception, she managed to stay for a little while, sharing a glass of champas before scooting off home. Too much happiness than she could bear without being overwhelmed. She could never have that; much like she could never have love. The sand caught between her toes even mocked her, like it was some cruel - insanely stupid - reminder that she would have to wash them herself by herself. She knew how ridiculous that sounded too, because she felt it. Daye was lucky. She had Drew to wash and play with her feet.
Oh Christ, how pathetic did she want to feel now. She was thinking of and envying feet that weren’t her own!
“I need a root. Badly.” Reah muttered to herself and uncrossed her legs to head to the bathroom for a quick shower. Maybe afterwards she could drag Quin from her room to go see a movie or something. Walking past her cousin’s room on the way offered a glimpse of her idly studying the dress she’d worn in a full-length mirror. But only a glimpse since the door allowed just a slight crack for spying, and Reah was on a mission to de-stink.
Discarding her clothes on the cool, white tiled floor, she stepped into shower. Twisting the hot water on, she waited and flinched as the first blast shot out, chill water shocking her system before it slowly started to heat up to the point just before scolding when she decided to add in the cold.
Sand fell away, speckling the showers white base and chasing the other tiny grains down the drain at her bare feet that slowly shifted around, rotating herself under the relaxing heat of the water that cascaded over her head and body. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine herself back home on the coast, showering after a hard days training at the Lifesaving Club. Reah missed her old life on the coast. Screaming and mucking around with all her old friends, challenging them to see who could bodysurf the best. She frowned when she remembered the surfing competition she was signed up to participate in on the weekend following her eighteenth birthday. Reah’d completely forgotten about that until just then.
Her best friend, Leigh, had been disappointed, but understood why and didn’t give her a hard time. Though now that she thought back on it, Reah sorely wished she’d given her the harshest verbal bashing of a lifetime. Things may have turned out much differently then.
If Leigh had just slapped her in the face and told her to get over it, like she usually did, then Reah’d probably still live on the Sunshine Coast. She wouldn’t have become a vampire hunter, she wouldn’t have claws that shot out of her hands, she wouldn’t be a twenty-six year old who was born in 1984, and she wouldn’t have had to stake Leigh through the heart because she’d stupidly insisted on trying to find her parents killers which, evidently, ended up costing her best friend her life when the two came across their first vampire.
Reah still had a lot to learn about the demon world then: like what happens when a vampire feeds a victim its own cold blood.
It was unfortunate, for the both of them, that Leigh was too sympathetic and understanding when it came to the death of her parents…
….
Leave it to her to turn a relaxing shower into a depressing reminiscence. Suddenly souring at the thought of transfiguring herself into a prune, Reah turned the water taps back off and stepped swiftly out of the shower onto the dampened bathmat.
Gees, she was really twenty-six? *Bloody hell…* Reah grumbled after working it out in her head while drying herself over with the towel. Now that was a depressing thought. She was ahead of her time in so many ways, it wasn’t funny!
Head shaking, Reah dragged herself out of the bathroom, towel wrapped about her, and wondered back past Quin’s room to get changed in her own… then paused.
Arching backwards to peer inside Quin’s room, Reah raised a speculative eyebrow at her cousin who was still studying herself in her mirror. Though she wasn’t so much studying herself as she was checking herself OUT!!!
Reah straightened back up and frowned inwardly. *Odd…* That was one place she didn’t want to go. Quin’s behaviour over the last week or so had just been far too strange and upsetting for her liking. A couple of times she’d had to remind and assure herself that Quin had been cured of Hyde and this was just some stupid teenage thing that had sparked up in the aftermath.
Had to be.
… *Oh, get over it, ya dick! Quin’s bloody fine and you know it. You were right there to cradle her when she was cured, not to mention put up with the relentless apologies, accompanied by nothing else, when you finally brought her home.* She mentally confided in herself once more, yet she still found a hard time convincing herself. Why did she still find a hard time convincing herself!
She’d have nearly punched the wall in if she hadn’t caught herself, instead settled and resolved to choke down on her anger. Much harder and less comforting – one thing she was quick to discover.
But that did it.
“Quin! I’m going out.”