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, 25th July 2007 – 1:12am
At an otherwise deserted bus stop, two lovers were locked in an intimate embrace. The sounds and movements issuing from the pair indicated intense passion, and it looked for all the world like they were, if not in love, at least very much in lust. Looks, however, can be deceiving. After a few minutes the woman drew back, licked her lips, licked the wound on the boy’s neck, and settled his pale, drained body into the corner of the shelter.
Her skin flushed with the new warmth coursing through her, Tash stood with no more thought of the man she’d just killed than a Texan thinks of the cow that died for his steak. She gestured, and a pair of vampires who had been keeping watch while she fed stepped out of the shadows to flank her.
“Come, we have work to do.”
Nodding, they followed her back out into the night.
The trio had not made it too far from their last meal when their heightened senses picked up the sound of soft padding. Pausing, the group scanned the area; Tash knew that in LA a vampire could never be too careful about hunters, especially the White Hats.
“Look, it’s only a dog,” one of the lackeys said, catching sight of a large canine that had rounded the corner and was now sitting on his haunches just staring at them.
“That’s one hell of a dog,” the other added, her voice more cautious. “If we weren’t in the middle of the city, I would swear it was a wolf.”
Tash stared at the wolf. It stared back at her with deep purple eyes. Darian’s aura swirled about its head.
“That’s no wolf,” she said quietly. “We’re in trouble, especially if he’s brought his friends with him.” In response to the pair’s puzzled stares, she pointed her chin at the beast. “That’s Darian, the half-fae. One of the White Hats.”
Tash hawked and spat on the pavement. She’d been worried about a time like this; had known it was inevitable. Having spent the past two days sleeping at Youth Hostile and her nights prowling around the general vicinity on her recruiting drive, she had wondered how long it would take before one of the witches tracked her down. Secretly she had wished it would be a few more days yet. Still, she let no hint of her anxiety show.
Raising her voice, she addressed the wolf. “Hello Darian. Find any good fire hydrants today?”
Her two companions took a step back in surprise as the large beast stood upright on his back legs. A second later, the fur covering the wolf vanished and his snout retracted as his face returned to normal.
There was a silent, hurt look on the man’s eternally youthful face; deep down, he had not wanted to be the one to find her first. But unfortunately the wheel of fate had landed on him and now he had to do what was needed of him.
“You two either leave now, or end up a pile of dust,” he said icily to Tash’s two companions. “I’m here for her and that’s it.”
Tash gestured behind her back for her escort to keep their distance. They stepped away, but not too far. Tash smiled. “Ah, Darian. Always the gallant. I suppose Daye’s been telling you all sorts of terrible lies about me. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it might have something to do with that. I also heard you’ve been hanging out with my ‘brother’. Didn’t think you were a fan of his, but I guess things change, eh?” Darian replied, trying his best to remember this wasn’t his friend, this wasn’t really Tash.
“Well, you know after that business with Kronor and all, maybe I found something to connect to with him. As you say, things can change. Loki’s not the same evil bastard that tried to kill you two years ago.”
Tash looked hurt and betrayed. “Besides, since Daye tried to kill me I had to confide in someone. I know she’s turned all of you against me.” She changed the look to one of desperation and hope. “But you won’t hurt me, will you Darian? How many times have I saved your life?”
“Tash has saved my life. You, you’re just a demon.” Finally, the man took a determined step forward towards the trio. “I’ve already radioed the other White Hats. Within a few minutes all of them will be here. You’ve got nowhere to go. It ends here.”
A flicker of anger flared in Tash’s brown eyes, casting a faint yellow gleam in them for a moment. Then it was gone and she looked small, alone and forlorn. “But Darian, it is me. Remember our talks in the cave on G’rnatha? Remember how we faced down the Brotherhood together? Why would you listen to the lies of a crazy woman who would kill her own fiancée and blame her friend for it? Darian, you have to believe me.”
Tash put all her energy into that final command, using all the tricks she had learned during her time infected with Hyde. She pushed as hard as she dared against Darian’s mind, trying to force this reality upon him.
The fae winced as his head suddenly began to feel woozy. Why was he here again? To fight Tash – but why? Tash was his friend. Suddenly, things didn’t make as much sense as they had just a minute ago. Daye is the evil one? Yes, that made more sense. She did try and turn Cole evil and taught him all those dark magics. Wait, no; Tash was a vampire, wasn’t she?
Tash felt the moment when her attempt began to fail; time to switch to plan B. With a nod from their mistress, the two sidekicks jumped into action, taking the distracted faery by surprise. Powerful blows landed on his face and gut, causing Darian to keel over in pain. *Yep, definitely a vampire,* he thought, as the sudden pain dragged him out of the psychic attack.
Darian took a defensive stance, but it was no use; the two anticipated all his moves and worked quickly to move past his guard. It was not long before the two vampires were each holding onto one of the helpless man’s arms, keeping him restrained for their mistress to deal with.
Tash sized up her quarry. In her mind’s eye she saw what would happen next. She would advance on Darian slowly, watching the fear in his eyes as she licked her lips in anticipation of the meal to come. What did fae blood taste like? She would softly, almost lovingly, sweep the hair from his neck and bend to drink… Yeah, and then he would free himself and snap her neck in a second. No, the traditional methods would not work here.
With vampire swiftness she reached beneath her jacket, drew her gun and fired in one smooth motion, the bullet whizzing straight for Darian’s head.
It was only because of his superhuman reflexes that Darian manage to avoid the fatal shot. In the blink of an eye his body buzzed with electricity as he fried his two would-be captors with magical lightning and veered to the right. Although the bullet missed its target, the sick splatter of blood jetting from his left shoulder indicated that Tash did hit something.
With a cry of pain, Darian hit the ground. Putting pressure on the wound he could feel his warm blood flowing from where the bullet struck. *Bloody smart move,* he cursed.
With the fae down, Tash was tempted to move in and finish him off. But a glance at the matching piles of dust on the pavement gave her pause for thought. That and the knowledge that at any moment the cavalry would be arriving for Darian. Taking only the time to holster her gun, Tash turned and sprinted down an alleyway, making sure her path took her away from YH. Maybe it was time to rethink the ‘staying in LA’ strategy.
The fae gritted his teeth as he scrambled to get to his feet. They had several nights of failed attempts at finding Tash behind them and he was damned if he was going to let her escape now that he had finally found her. The hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end as he conjured another storm. Magically, his reserves had been somewhat depleted in incinerating the two vamps, but he still had enough juice left in him to have some effect.
“Not so fast, Tash!” he called out as a boom of thunder heralded the bolt that escaped his fingers.
Tash’s skin tingled and she smelled the sharp tang of ozone. She leapt and rolled, attempting to evade Darian’s shaft of lightning. Then it was upon her and for several moments she was transfixed, every nerve-end afire as the energy washed over her. She didn’t know whether it was the range or that he had used up much of his reserves already in frying her two guards, but whatever the cause, there wasn’t enough juice to do more than slow her down.
That was enough, however. As she found herself able to function again she could feel Darian’s presence close by. She tried to resume her course, but a powerful hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around. Still dealing with the after-effects of his magical attack, Tash could do little more than throw up a basic defence as she and Darian faced each other.
“So now what?” she asked bitterly. “You’re going to keep me here until Daye and Kate and the rest arrive and do what? Are they planning to kill me slowly or quickly, Darian? Is it going to give you satisfaction to murder one of your friends?”
“Shut up, vampire!” he spat as his right hand shot out clasping firmly on her neck. Tash’s yellow eyes bulged as Darian began to squeeze tightly, lifting her easily from the ground. “You murdered my friend and now I’m going to return the favour!”
The vampire moved quickly before the furious fae could pop her head straight off her shoulders. Her true demonic features burst forth and like a savage, cornered beast Tash dug her nails into the bullet wound in his shoulder, scraping and tearing at all the flesh she could get her hands on. Roaring like an enraged lion, in a mixture of anguish and fury Darian tossed Tash away as though she were little more than a rag doll.
Furious now, Tash glared up, ready to leap at Darian and tear him limb from limb. The snarl froze on her lips, though, when she saw what was behind him. Who was behind him. “Oh, shit.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday, 25th July 2007 – 1:25am
“G’day!” Reah stood not five paces short of Darian, arms crossed firmly beneath a face carved of stone. Emotionless eyes locked on the creature. She’d mourned for Tash already, and seeing this beast now in its true form was only a strong reminder of how long gone her old friend was.
In one swift motion, Reah had drawn her Ares Predator and was aiming it steadily between the demon’s eyes. “Back away from the fae. Now!” She paused, thoughtfully tilting her head. “And no offence, Tash, but you need to rethink the eye makeup. It’s just not you.”
Tash barely glanced at the barrel of the enormous gun pointed at her. Behind Reah was Nikolai, the light catching off the edges of a double-bladed sword he wielded. Alessa and Ellis appeared around the corner just behind him, and Tash could clearly hear more footsteps approaching.
“Sure, no problem, Reah. I’ll back away.”
Tash edged back from Darian, forcing her face to resume its more human shape. The demon within her battled to rise to the surface but she kept it under wraps as she backed deeper into the alleyway. With an inhuman effort, she catapulted herself into the air, grabbing the edge of a windowsill to swing herself ever higher. Reah’s gunshot echoed off the walls, the bullet passing within a hair of her body, but Tash had one goal in mind – get the hell away from the White Hats. There was no way she could fight this many of them.
Tash pulled herself onto the roof of the building and rolled away from the edge until she bumped into something on the roof. Looking up she saw Oz staring down at her. Oz grabbed her and hurled her back over the edge of the building and down into the alleyway. She grabbed the edge of a fire escape and slammed hard into the steel bars. She had one foot on the rail when the angel reappeared and shoved her - hard - so that she lost her balance and fell a dozen feet to the pavement.
She screamed at Oz as he faded away during her descent, “BASTARD!”
Nikolai closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the nervousness of his companions. It was a moment they had been waiting for, but he knew that part of each of them had secretly hoped that Tash had already absconded from LA and disappeared. Now that they had found her, he wondered if anyone would actually go through with it.
“Please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” he said as Tash bounded back to her feet with inhuman speed. His hands gripped the hilt in the middle of his sword.
Tash quirked an eyebrow at the weapon. “You’ve been watching the Star Wars marathons again, haven’t you?” Her eyes darted from one face to the other. Faces this body knew very well, faces associated with lots of memories, both good and bad. But none of them meant a damn thing to her anymore except danger.
“I don’t plan on making this difficult at all, Kolya,” she said. “You want to murder me; nothing could be simpler. My only problem is I’m not ready to go yet. How does L’Than feel about that? Consigning someone to oblivion against their will?”
“Don’t listen to a thing she says Nik,” Darian cut in, taking a step closer to the vampiress, all the while grabbing his wounded shoulder. Much blood had flowed out already, and even with his supernatural constitution he was beginning to feel very dizzy.
“You can try and use that silver tongue Tash,” the fae paused as jolts of electricity flashed in his purple eyes, “but it’s not going to work. Like I said before, you’re not leaving here alive.”
Nikolai shook his head. Somehow, Darian's reply didn't seem to be quite enough. Tash no doubt expected to play off the former halves of his selves. “Death comes to all things, Tasha, and you are already dead. Being turned into dust will be a relief for you.”
Alessa moved forward a couple of steps. The situation was eerily familiar, and she wasn’t going to try and talk with that thing. Tash had been smart enough not to vamp out, and if you just tried a little she could have been the old friend. But she wasn’t. And all of them knew it. She didn’t see the need to chat or explain anything.
From the corner of her eye she saw Ellis edging closer to the vampiress and she started to do the same. At least Tash seemed distracted… until you noticed her slowly backing away. Alessa smiled; that looked more like the old huntress. Her nails grew into claws and she flexed her fingers.
From the rooftop Oz looked down invisibly. “Looks like it won’t be long, now,” he said to his equally invisible companion who lurked in the shadows.
The companion said, “Don't bet on it. She won't go down easily nor cleanly. This is just the opening moves of the game.”
The walking corpse that had been Natasha Brookes glanced from side to side and each exit route she could see was guarded by wings and a halo. She realised that there was no way out and no way through.
“Sorry, demon, but it’s the end of the line,” Reah sombrely intoned, claws springing from the clenched fist by her side. Her Ares Predator Smartlink locked on target with an ominous ‘blip’. “Get the fuck out of our friend’s body.”
Drawing herself up tall, Tash stood steadfastly in the alleyway, determination on her features as she faced the friends of her host. If not for that thrice-damned angel, she might already be well away. Still, she had known that this confrontation was likely and had made contingency plans.
The moment stretched out in silence. Watching the faces that ringed her, seeing the hesitation in some eyes, Tash counted her blessings that none of the witches had appeared. There was no sign of Kate or Daye, or – worst possibility of all – Marcus. Maybe she could just about pull this off after all.
“My old friends,” she began, edging away from the group as she spoke, “I think it’s time you met some of my new friends.” Lifting her chin, Tash loosed a piercing whistle, then dove to one side even as Reah fired once more, sending up a spray of bitumen fragments from the road where Tash had been standing.
Then those footsteps they’d been hearing resolved into the figures of half a dozen of the new Black Veins, rounding the corner behind the White Hats. More vampires appeared from the alleyway behind Tash, and she grinned broadly. “Say hi, everyone.”
The heads of the White Hats turned to face the glowing yellow eyes of the reinforcements under prominent brows. Toothy smiles with bright-red tongues licking pale lips filled a silent moment as the attackers became defenders.
“Hi yourself,” said Kate suddenly as she emerged from the darkness of the night, the faint haze of an invisibility spell dropping from her like a discarded cloak. The mage fairly glowed with an aura of power, so strong that several of the weaker vampires had to shield their eyes.
The invisible observers on the roof had an overview of the battle that included seeing forces both in and arriving at the melee. “Good ol’ Kate, I knew she’d pick a suitably dramatic entrance,” said the shadowy observer with a grin.
“I notice she came alone. Where are Marcus and Daye?” asked Oz.
“Marcus and Daye have their own problems, but Kate has always had time for Tash,” said the observer, “Even when it wasn’t convenient. She will have to care for her other lost lambs after this, I suppose.”
“Well, well, look who decided to join the party,” muttered Tash, her face crinkling slightly with a mixture of surprise and disgust at the appearance of the witch.
“Just a little contingency of our own,” said Kate as she took a step forward. “You forget how well we know you. Natasha Brookes would never attempt to face us without backup, just like she would want us to hunt her down if she was ever turned.”
Kate took another step forward, her dark blue eyes locked with Tash’s cold unfeeling ones. She searched her face, hoping that she would be able to see something that still remained of the beloved friend she had once known. But there was nothing except the bloodthirsty cruelty of evil.
“What’s wrong Tash?” asked Kate blankly, her voice devoid of all emotion except the hate she felt for the creature that had killed her dear friend and turned her into this... thing. “Not pleased to see us?”
Tash paused for a moment, shifting her weight ever so slightly as she sized up the mage. “Oh I’m pleased to see you all right. We have some unfinished business after all, and Daye gave me a real taste for Wicca blood. I have to admit, Kate,” Tash added with a purr, “I’ve been dreaming about how it’ll feel when I sink my fangs into that tender flesh of yours.”
Kate’s fingers twitched slightly by her side, crackles of blue electricity darting between her fingertips. “Then maybe you’ll finally have a chance to find out.”
With a sudden swiftness, Kate leapt into the air. Her body twisted and turned momentarily, as though folding in on itself before breaking up into dust and whipping through the night skies like a swarm of angry hornets.
Tash’s eyes followed the swarm warily, the muscles in her lithe body flexing diminutively as she readied herself for the Wicca’s oncoming attack. Feeling a light breeze upon her skin, Tash whirled around just in time to see Kate reshape and take form and the flash of metal as a katana soared through the air.
“Shit.” With an angry snarl, Tash ducked out of the path of the long, thin blade intent on severing her head. Instead, the sword sliced into the meaty flesh of her shoulder, sending a shower of blood fanning outwards.
Tash clutched her arm, glaring at Kate with yellowed eyes as her smooth features contorted into those of the vampire. The witch hesitated, raising the edge of her katana with uncertainty.
“You’re gonna regret that,” sneered Tash viciously, baring the sharp points of her fangs. “Take your positions, and kill them!” she roared to her minions. “Kill them all!!”
A whispered curse fell from Darian’s lips as the army of bloodsuckers began advancing on the White Hats. Normally, being this badly outnumbered wouldn’t have worried him, but tonight was not a normal night. Spirits were already extremely low within his friends, and no one seemed prepared to deal with a fight of this magnitude; himself least of all thanks to the bullet wound in his shoulder.
And then, like a starter pistol at some sporting event, Reah’s Ares Predators shot out into the night announcing the start of the big rumble.
Like sharks smelling blood, four of the vampires advanced on Darian, their eyes bulging with anticipation as they sniffed the rich crimson blood dripping generously from his shoulder.
“I’m afraid the kitchen is closed,” the fae spat as he let loose a bolt of lightning. The charge lacked any real power however, and the vampire it struck merely seemed to shake it off.
“Wow, is that all you got? Pretty pathetic if you ask me.” With that, the four leapt into action.
Darian might have broken a major sweat had he been in perfect condition but, after sustaining that injury, breaking a sweat would have been preferable to the beating he received. The new Black Veins worked well together, each doing his own part to block and counter Darian’s moves as the others continued the assault.
Between blows, Darian spared a glance out to his friends hoping someone was free to help him, but his eyes were only met with disappointment. All the White Hats were engrossed in their own battles; there would be no help on the way.
Determined to get through this, Darian roared as he pushed himself on fighting with all that was left. He almost seemed hopeful when he managed to knock down two of the vamps until suddenly all optimism vanished from his being. The pain in his shoulder was nothing compared to that now coming from his torso. He had barely time to register the cold pointy metal slide into his back before the blade pushed through the soft skin of his stomach, protruding ever so slightly. His eyes widened with terrifying realisation as a gurgle of blood fell from his mouth.
All remaining strength drained from his body as Darian fell to his knees, the world around him wobbling in and out of darkness.
“Looks like the buffet’s back in business boys,” one of the vamps cheered as his grabbed Darian’s arms and hoisted him back to his feet.
The fae’s body shuddered slightly as another, none too gently, retracted the sword that had impaled him. “Magically delicious,” he laughed, licking the blood from the blade.
The vamp holding him slid one of his hands from Darian’s arm up to his face so he could better angle the dying man’s head. “You know, Natasha told us about you. How you have all this power, but you’re just too weak to use it properly.”
A gobbet of blood splashed against the vamp’s cheek. It was the fae’s last move of defiance. He was so tired of people calling him weak and useless. Tired of people seeing his compassion and good nature as a fault rather than a virtue. Rage and hatred bubbled deep within him. If he just had the chance, he would make them all see that he was capable of many other things than just compassion and kindness.
“Does the truth hurt, little man?” the leech taunted as he brought his lips close to Darian’s neck, only to linger a moment enjoying the anticipation. “We heard all about how you managed to let – what was it – two, three of your friends die?” he purred in Darian’s ear, relishing every minute of this encounter. “You really are pathetic.”
All the pain and sadness of recent events had started him down a path, most recently with Tash’s death, and this was finally the straw that broke the camel’s back. He just couldn’t take it anymore!
The rooftop observer frowned, “He’s going to do something desperate. Poor Darian, he has the biggest heart and the least self-control. It will get him dead one day.”
Oz looked down at the fae. “I could step in and help, but without an escort you might get lost. It is up to you.”
“No, he’s already let the black cat out of his bag,” the observer said.
Tilting the fae’s head sideways, the vampire eagerly moved closer until surprisingly, his prey began to giggle.
“What’s wrong with him?” another asked, moving closer to inspect as the man’s cackling grew louder.
“What the fuck is your problem Happy Meal?” the one holding him hissed as he turned Darian’s head once again so he could look his prey square in the eyes. The vampire let out a tiny gasp of shock. The man’s face was twisted into some sinister, unnatural grin and the vampire was sure that somehow his features suddenly seemed sharper. Before he could react, his three surrounding companions were tossed into the air, as if thrown by some invisible force.
“What’sss the matter little vampire, no longer have an appetite?” the man giggled eerily. The vampire tried to retreat, but it was now Darian who was holding him close. “How strange it must feel,” the fae whispered, drawing his face close to the vampire’s ear, “to be on the other end of this little encounter.”
“What the…fu…”
“Haassnnaaaaiii.”
As the word fell from the fae’s lips, a thin, wispy blue smoke accompanied it. From Darian’s mouth into the vampire’s ear it travelled slowly, until it had all disappeared into the blood sucker. The vampire’s body began to shake and shiver as his pale white skin turned a sickly blue. Icicles began to form at the tip of his nose and frost accumulated in his hair and eyebrows. Within a moment he was nothing more than a glorified ice statue.
“Shit, look what happened!” another of the three vampires called out, as they recovered and began advancing on Darian once more.
Turning his sights on them, the faery laughed as he wiggled his fingers at his wounds. The hole in his stomach sealed up, and the bullet in his shoulder slowly floated outwards before it too healed instantly.
“RRRrrrrrr!” the one with the sword screamed as it foolishly charged forwards.
Darian smiled wickedly as he held the bullet in the palm of his hand and then blew on it. The metal exploded into a cloud of black locusts that covered the vampire. Within seconds the insects disappeared and all that was left was a few grains of dust in the wind and the clanking of the sword tumbling to the ground.
“Silllly little vampiressss. You walk this plane asss if you were godsss, when really you falssse immortalsss are barely above humansss.”
To the vampires’ horror, a sword appeared in the man’s hands as he stalked forwards, its ebony blade glistening in the pale moonlight.
“Don’t cower little night-stalkerssss, it wont take too long,” Darian cackled softly.
Though caught up in the midst of battle, Kate’s eye couldn’t help but be caught by the events unfolding not far from where she stood.
“Incendiaries!” she shouted angrily, directing the palm of her hand towards the vampire whom she had been fighting. A rippling line of heat sliced through the air before engulfing her opponent in searing fire.
Paying little attention to the vampire’s unholy screams as his charred flesh curled and dropped from his bones like confetti, Kate fought and pushed her way through the crowds to where Darian was laughing maniacally while slashing through several vamps with a long blackened blade.
“Darian!” she shouted in a combination of shock and alarm as she reached his side. She couldn’t tell what was going on but the fae seemed to be surrounded with dark sinister magics.
“Something’s not right here. She wouldn’t have planned this all-in brawl.” The invisible observer peered over the edge of the rooftop.
“It does seem too chaotic. She was a good tactician in life; as a vampire that shouldn’t have changed,” Oz agreed.
“Yes, see how angry she looks. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I’m sure. Still, don’t count her out just yet. I’m betting she’ll have something up her sleeve.”
“Maldición, maldición, maldición,” Alessa muttered as she danced around the alley. Again, as when hunting with Kyle, she elated in her new power. If the circumstances were other, she’d be enjoying herself immensely. Being in touch with her demon side gave her a huge kick , she thought, as she jumped and clawed her way into a vampire’s chest, gripping its heart and feeling it turn to dust in her hand. She hadn’t noticed before how tender vampire flesh was; her nails could get into it like a hot knife on butter, or maybe she was stronger – who cared? It was making her job easier.
Her eyes watering as always, she advanced through the dust and watched around. Her friends were all fighting around her, and her eyes rested for a second on Ellis’ form, artfully handling a long sword. She should stop worrying about him; only human or not, he could hold his ground. Then her sight was attracted by lightning.
“Guess who else got a kick…” she whispered, when she saw where all the lightning was coming from.
As lightning burst force from the tip of his blade, frying another vamp, Darian laughed even louder, his voice ghostly and unworldly. “Darian!”
The faery froze as Kate’s voice grew closer. As quickly as it came over him, the rage departed, creeping back into his soul as if afraid of the woman drawing nearer. The black blade faded out of existence and the smile he wore lingered no longer.
“Kate?” Darian said dizzily, not quite sure of what was going on.
“Darian,” said Kate again as she reached the fae, grabbing hold of him under the arm as he staggered around uneasily. He looked disoriented, almost bewildered as though he had no recollection of what had just happened.
*Could it have been Evexus?* she wondered vaguely. Kate had never been in the presence of the evil fae that had once taken control of Darian’s body but she’d heard all about it at the White Hat meetings. However now was definitely not the time to sit and ponder the situation. *There’ll be a time for that later.*
“Are you okay?” she asked firmly, accepting Darian’s reluctant nod as an affirmation. Kate’s eyes surveyed the battle that was taking place within the alley, White Hats fighting vampires and in the midst of everything stood Tash.
“This is getting out of hand,” she stated anxiously. “We need to get to Tash and fast. As soon as we’ve… dealt with her, this little army of hers will fold like laundry.”
Darian raised a speculative eyebrow, as they launched themselves back into the fray. “Laundry?” he retorted incredulously. “Kate, promise me if we survive this we’ll have a little chat about your social life. I think I need to get you out more.”
Tash surveyed the fight with growing disgust at her supposed ‘army’. Had none of them listened when she’d described the tactics they would need to use against each of the White Hats? Here they were, falling back onto their old patterns of rushing in and grappling with the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. The fools! She shook her head as yet more vampires fell beneath the defences of her old friends.
“Fall back, you morons! Take up the positions I told you!” she screamed futilely into the chaos, but it was too late. Her first wave had committed itself and now there was nothing for it but to hope that some of them at least got in a few good hits before being ignominiously dusted. Quickly, lest she give them away, she glanced upward to where Walt and Julia waited to perform their part of this fight, but with the other vampires now closely engaged that plan probably wouldn’t work. She fingered the pellets in her pocket and wondered if one set would be enough.
From the corner of her eye she saw Nikolai’s double-bladed sword twirling and ducked in time for it to whistle harmlessly over her head. She flipped into a handstand, Capoeira-style, and kicked the Russian in the face, knocking him to the ground. Instincts drove her to follow up the attack, but instead she melted back into the shadows and waited for the second phase to begin.
“Look there! This battle is about to get bigger,” said Oz pointing.
“Of course it is,” said the shadowy observer, “This is a showdown for her as well as for them. She has to be taken out or they will never survive. It really is them or her. Without this battle there will never be any closure for any of them.”
Oz gaped, “This is about closure? What about good vs. evil?”
The observer didn’t even look down from the roof. “What is good here? What is evil here? This is about burying the dead.”
“Hell of a funeral,” Oz said.
“When you’ve buried as many friends as they have, Oz, you get a little tired of meeting at a memorial tree – again – to pray and weep. Believe me, this is better.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Arriving late to the party, Kyle threw himself into the combat, hauling around a vampire who was facing the wrong way. He brought his knee up into the vampire's stomach, then upper-cut the creature of the night. When the vampire came up in pain Kyle introduced him to his fist. The next thing it knew was Kyle's stake.
New bodies were suddenly running past him, slamming into the Black Veins left and right. Big bodies. Big purple bodies.
Kyle had arrived late, but he arrived in style.
“You were right, this will be fun!” Zax roared, high-fiving Kyle has he dashed past, yanking a vampire's head off his shoulders in his massive, powerful arms. And there were others like him; his brother Grons and his cousin Lars and nearly a dozen Norsh demons. Unprepared for this sudden, brutal attack – which was something akin to a purple bulldozer slamming into a house – the vampires simply crumbled. Fully half of them had been torn apart in a matter of seconds.
Kyle watched the devastation with a grin. *I knew bringing Zax along would be a good idea.* “Hey, save some for me!” he yelled, diving in the Norsh demon's large wake.
“What the hell?” Ellis exclaimed when he bumped into a big purple wall. *Norshs!* his eyes grew in fear until he noticed they were fighting the vampires too. *Cool,* he thought and turned to the matter at hand again, but not before throwing Alessa a glance. She was still in her human form, but darker – a sheen of perspiration glowed on her black skin and her hands looked strange with long curving claws growing from her fingers. He smiled. Demonesses: he surely had a soft spot for them.
Alessa saw Ellis watching her and smiled too, then she turned and looked up to where Tash was still standing. The vampiress was watching the scene with a feral frown on her face – she surely hadn’t counted the purple brigade in her schemes. *Good Kyle, and Zax.* Staring fiercely up at her former friend, Alessa saluted her. She saw Tash hiss in anger. Jumping lithely, she grabbed the lower portion of the building’s escape stairs and started to climb with strong, swift leaps.
“Are you going somewhere, darling?” Alessa cursed as a big vampire slammed his fist on her face, making her lose her balance. She had been too intent on following Tash and had not paid attention. The strength of the blow along with the vampire’s body pushing hers made her lose her grip too.
She hit the ground hard, a high fall, breathless, cushioning the vampire that fell atop her. Before she could react several other vampires added their weight to their companion’s, pushing her down. She cried when something, probably a blade, went through her shoulder. Teeth too, searching for her neck. Frantically she morphed, but she couldn’t unseat the vampires. Her head was viciously pushed against the ground and her mouth filled with dust mingled with her own blood. The blade went through her again, this time her arm, and she cried again. And again.
A ferocious roar slammed into Alessa’s eardrums, blotting out her cries of pain. A vampire was bodily hauled off her and thrown aside. An instant later, vampire dust washed over her. Another vampire was picked up and chucked aside, and again it too was soon dust.
Zax roared again as he yanked another vampire off the ground and hurled it away. Moving swiftly around the vampires preying over Alessa’s fallen form like moths to a flame, Kyle was grabbing the vampires that Zax was throwing. In demon mode he was catching and burning them. It was like a twisted game of catch, except – for the both of them – a hell of a lot more enjoyable.
Zax’s roar – which anybody who spoke Norsh would know to be ‘catch!’ – signalled another approaching vampire. Kyle missed it this time and it hit the ground, probably breaking its neck on impact by the looks of it. The Kaoshian demon immediately leapt on it as it tried to rise and held on tightly, despite the vampire’s pained shrieking as it slowly caught alight and burned. In a few seconds, there was nothing left. He turned to see Alessa had been cleared of the bloodsuckers but was bleeding heavily.
“Zax, purple wall!” Kyle yelled. The big Norsh demon turned towards the remaining vampires, planted his feet on the ground and flexed his muscles, leaving no question that anyone trying to get to Alessa would have to go through him, and that nobody would get through him.
The Kaoshian demon fell to the ground next to Alessa and looked her over in a rare moment of honest concern. He could see at least three bloody wounds across her body. “Alessa, you ok? You hear me?”
“She’ll be fine,” the rooftop observer said to nobody in particular with the sound of someone trying to convince themselves.
“Pretty sure she will be,” said Oz, “She’s got Ellis, Kyle, and the others to watch out for her. She’s been in worse straits and they brought her back,”
“Oh, I know, but it is never certain until it is over. Anything can happen,” the observer said wistfully.
“Like the battle below? Demons and humans fighting side-by-side against vampires. Who’d have believed it?”
“They do – their belief makes it reality. See? She’s going to be fine.” It was said this time with far more certainty.
“Don’t shout, or I’ll think you care,” Alessa managed to say to Kyle, spitting blood and dust. “Vampiros de mierda!”
She felt numb, and her eyes wouldn’t focus. She brought her paw to her shoulder, and hissed in pain. Her fur felt sticky so she quickly morphed back to human, it wasn’t so messy that way. She looked up at the Kaoshian and tried to smile, despite the pain. “I’m fine, I’ll be okay,” she said, but Kyle didn’t look too convinced. She tried to raise herself but nausea overcame her, making her slump to the ground again.
“Wow! Easy now,” Kyle said. “You’ve lost a lot of blood,” he added, looking at the wide-open gash at her neck, where she must have been bitten. If she were human she’d be dead by now, he thought.
Kyle looked around. The battle continued and his hands prickled in excitement, but that could wait. He hauled her against a wall, a safer spot, and helped her into a sitting position. Alessa fought back a wave of dizziness and rested her head on the wall; she was breathing shallowly and could feel blood flowing freely from her wounds.
“Yeah, I guess the party’s over for me.” She managed a weak smile, catching his worried eyes. She smiled again, knowing she had just caught a glimpse of the real Kyle beneath his hard façade.
“Hey! A little help over here!” Kyle yelled and saw Ellis hear his cry. “And a cigarette!” he quickly added.
Alessa chuckled. “I’ll be ok. Go fight. And gracias.”
With a wink, the Kaoshian rose, but didn’t leave till Ellis crouched next to Alessa.
High above the carnage sat a lone figure, his legs dangling casually from the edge of the shadowy roof top. It had occurred to him to perhaps join in, but when it came down to it he was perfectly content to be a spectator. A witch had arrived and Darian seemed to be on some sort of steroids, so even with his presence he doubted Tash would live to see the daylight – figuratively speaking, of course.
Instead he sat, adding his commentary to the battle.
“Ohhh ladies and gentlemen, we thought the game was looking somewhat even, but the purple Barney demons seemed to have made it a little one sided. Ouuuu things are really beginning to heat up in the left corner,” he added as Kate conjured another wave of fire far below.
The man continued his theatrical monologue, seemingly unaware of the vampire who had found its way up to the rooftop.
“I’m afraid this is the VIP booth, and I don’t see your ticket anywhere,” the man said out of nowhere, catching the vampire completely off guard. Turning around, he moved his attention from the fight to the annoying disturbance who was trying to creep up behind him.
“You’re funny, human,” the vampire hissed, not realising what he was getting himself into. “I saw you spying on us from up here. Thought you could avoid fighting with your friends? Don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to fight the Black Veins either.”
“Ohhh nooo a vampire has found me, whatever shall I do?! I’m so helpless and at your mercy,” he said, not even paying attention to the vampire anymore as he occupied himself with cart wheeling and pirouetting along the edge of the building. “Now shoo, I’m missing the best part.”
“WHAT?!” the vampire roared as it charged forwards; never would he let a human insult him so.
Like a flash of lightning, the man bounced from a handstand, smashing his feet into the vampire’s face.
“Didn’t you know it’s very rude to talk during the movie!” he lectured as he pummelled the creature repeatedly before backing off for a moment.
As the vampire struggled to regain his composure, the man retrieved a small nail file from his pocket and began manicuring his already perfect nails.
The vampire began backing away slowly, finally understanding that his enemy was no mere human. “You’re crazy…”
With a flick of his wrist, the nail file flew straight into the vampire’s heart. POOF.
Loki smiled as he turned back to his seat as if nothing had happened. “And to think, he almost made me miss the climax of the whole show. The nerve of some people.”
On the opposite rooftop a conversation between another group of less invisible observers was taking place. “Weren’t we supposed to do something with this barrel of goo? I mean we hauled it all the way up here, we should do something with it, right?”
“We were supposed to drop it on the mages. Remember, Walt? She told us to dump it on ‘anyone with red hair and fire flying from their fingertips’.”
“Yeah, I remember that part, but wasn’t there supposed to be a signal? Something like-” Walt waved his arms in a complex pattern.
Julia looked at him blankly. Walt shrugged then muscled the barrel to the ledge at the edge of the building above the red-haired mage below.
“Good thing we have all this super strength. Not sure I coulda lifted this thing before.”
“Could you lift a keg before?” Julia asked.
“Nah, just drink them,” Walt said, lining up his aim.
From her vantage point on a window ledge a couple of storeys up, Tash pondered her situation. Thoughts of escape were hampered by those ever-present impressions of wings and halo, but more than that; if she didn’t manage to reduce the White Hats in numbers at least a little, she’d never be safe in this city. Then she finally saw the sign she’d been waiting for.
Her first wave of relatively inexperienced vampires had failed miserably in their task. They had waded into the fight when they were meant to simply box in the White Hats and let Walt and Julia do their thing. But her second wave… yes, these were the specialists she’d been approaching over the past few days, for just such an occasion as this. Most of them were more than willing to work with vampires if it meant the destruction of the White Hats.
And now they were here.
Engrossed as they were with dusting the remnants of the vampires, even those in the alleyway below had to take note at what approached. Huge. Black. Lumbering. These were the words that first sprang into Reah’s mind when she saw it. The next two words were Predator. Both of them. She finished off the last vampire in front of her and whirled to take aim at the hulking brute. Shots sped from the muzzles, only to bury themselves in the thing’s torso with little apparent effect. It continued to lumber onwards, straight for her now.
Behind it came something that was more normal sized, but covered with a tough chitin. It struggled through a couple of Norsh that stood in its path, making a beeline for the strongest magical aura in the group. Kate watched it approach and mustered up a devastating fireball to engulf it. The fire slid and skittered across its body, the spell running off the demon like water off a duck’s back.
Ellis squeezed Alessa’s hand in apology. “I have to-”
“I’ll be fine. Don’t wait on me – go help.” Alessa smiled bravely at Ellis, and with a nod he rose.
He and Nikolai met up as they raced towards the demon advancing on Kate. She was firing spell after spell at it, trying every effect she knew, but nothing seemed to work. Before they could intercept it, however, they were beset by a horde of tiny demons. No more than a couple of inches high, they latched onto ankles and legs.
Nikolai glanced down. “What the… Ouch! Zaebis!” he swore.
Dozens of the small creatures poured into the melee. Their sharp bites and claws were proving to be a major distraction. The creatures swarmed across the alleyway and unerringly stopped at each of the humans in the battle to gnaw, chew, and generally bite. Ellis, Reah, Darian, Nikolai and Kate each stopped everything to swat at the annoying pests.
Kyle and the Norsh were not immune either; the beasties used their sharp claws to scale the enormous purple mounds. The Norsh barely felt the tiny claws as the critters climbed, but once they saw what happened when they reached a Norsh head, they became very concerned.
Gron’s cousin Lars’ mouth was forcibly opened by sharp claws jabbing into sensitive gums. The tiny demon worked his way into Lars’ mouth then punched a bony probe through the roof of the mouth and into Lars’ brain. Lars wobbled a second then began to reach for Ellis.
Gron grabbed and squeezed one of the tiny terrors until it made an audible pop. Zax began helping the other Norsh to clear the mind-controlling creatures away from their mouths. Soon, none of the Norsh were defending anyone and the few remaining vampires could ignore them in favour of more strategic targets.
Lars grabbed Ellis by the head and lowered its mouth over his shoulder. The omnivorous Norsh’s teeth bit deep punctures into Ellis’ flesh but it was the razor-sharp demon within Lars’ mouth that hurt worse. A loud explosion made Ellis flinch as Lars collapsed limply away. Ellis’ legs refused to support him and he toppled to the street.
He could see Lars with a smoking hole through his head and the dangling remains of whatever horror had been inside him. A shotgun-wielding Alessa tossed the gun aside and staggered over to check on her man.
“Jesus, fucken…” Reah cursed as the huge golem shambling towards her refused to let a little thing like twin-linked Ares Predator rounds slow him down. Holstering the weapons, she crouched, her claws extending as she leapt to meet it head-on. Her hand sank into the thing’s body as though it were made of soft butter. Whatever this was made of, it wasn’t flesh. It was something sticky. With her other hand she clawed at its face, but when she tried to pull back to have another try, the fist embedded in its side refused to budge.
“What the..? Crap!” Reah ducked her head as the creature made a clumsy swipe at her. At least it was slow, but if she didn’t get her hands free soon… She curled her body up and planted her feet on the golem’s thighs, trying to get some leverage. But soon she found that her feet were just as stuck, and sinking in.
Then there was the final indignity. “You know,” she muttered to nobody in particular, “this is bad enough. I admit it, I look like a total prat. But here I am, hanging here with my hands and feet stuck in this thing, and I’ve got a couple of fucken miniature demons with sharp teeth hanging off my arse!”
“Hey! Someone wanna give me a hand here?” She sniffed and wrinkled up her nose. This close to it, it really stank. “You wanna take a bath sometime, mate. You stink like, like… like hot bitumen. Fresh-laid…”
“Hang on, I’m coming, Reah,” Kyle called, as he fired up and crisped the last couple of demons trying to crawl into his mouth.
Reah craned her neck around and goggled at him. “No bloody way! This thing’s flammable. You keep your bloody distance.”
Tash watched with undisguised joy as Waringa closed in on Kate. It hadn’t been easy to convince the magic-null demon to join her ranks, but the chance to entrap one or two of the most powerful witches in the city was an offer he couldn’t resist. Tash lowered herself carefully to the ground, smirking at the antics of Nikolai, Ellis, Kyle and the Norsh demons as they tried to deal with the tiny Odeli creatures swarming over them. The smirk turned to a chuckle when she flicked her gaze over to where Reah was losing ground to the golem.
The smile fell from Tash’s face as quickly as it came and she became all business. She planted herself before Kate. The Wicca was straining against Waringa’s grip, but he held her fast.
“Well, well. Looks like you’re in a bit of a sticky situation here. Though,” Tash inclined her head towards Reah, now on the ground with the golem, “not at sticky as some. But I can fix that.”
Tash glanced upwards and gestured. Nothing happened. Growling low in her throat, she gesticulated again, more violently. After a moment something showered down, drenching Tash, Kate, and the demon who held her.
“Great, you got us all wet. Big deal.” Kate tried once more to twist out of the demon’s grasp, but he kept a tight grip on her.
In reply, Tash pulled from her pocket a small Ziploc bag full of small, dark tablets. With one swift motion she opened the bag and hurled the pellets at Kate, where they stuck to the liquid covering her. They immediately fizzed in reaction, and in moments Kate was completely encased in a hard shell-like covering.
Tash nodded at Waringa, who let go of the Wicca, leaving hand-sized holes in the shell at her throat and waist. Waringa turned as a lightning bolt from Darian skittered harmlessly off his chitin. He concentrated on cornering the fae, leaving the black vampire lady to do whatever she planned with the witch.
Nikolai was using his sword for a most unglamorous purpose, stabbing the tip at as many of the biting horrors as he could reach. Hearing Reah’s calls for help, he stumbled towards her. She was on the ground, struggling with something large and black. It was obviously not undead, but Nikolai could sense nothing from it. What was it? Magical construct? If so…
There. Over beside a dumpster, Nikolai could see a small figure staring intently at the rapidly disappearing Reah, fiddling with something in its hands. He started towards the figure, but it was clear that Kyle was much closer.
“Kyle!” Nikolai yelled. The Kaoshian looked across at him and Nikolai jerked his head to the dumpster, then back at Reah. Nodding his understanding, Kyle went to take care of it.
He loped towards it, fire streaming behind him, prepared to let loose a devastating line of fire at whoever it was. It was a girl, no more than ten, playing with a video game controller. The little girl looked up, her eyes wide and her mouth in an ‘o’ of shock. She dropped the remote control device and took to her heels. Kyle screeched to a halt, the pent up flame bursting from him.
It scorched the remote control, the dumpster, half the alleyway, and a couple of vampires who had decided it was time to leave the fight. Plastic rubbish dripped down the side of the dumpster, which began to glow on one side. Finally the fire was spent and Kyle turned, puffing.
Kate’s wide eyes stared out through the prison that held her immobile. Tash cocked her head and leant in close to murmur, “Still feeling weak? That’s not surprising. Waringa there, you may have noticed, isn’t affected by magic. Anything he touches, if it’s magical, is affected too. Oh, your powers will come back fairly soon, but not soon enough. And none of your friends seem to be free to help you right now, sweetie. So I guess you’re all mine. I told you I was keen to taste you.”
The fear coming from Kate was sweet ambrosia to Tash. She could swear she almost heard the woman screaming. But there was no time to savour this dish. She bent her face towards Kate’s exposed throat, her teeth puncturing the soft, white flesh there. That first taste of Wicca blood coursed into Tash and she groaned in delight.
Sending up a silent prayer to the goddess, Kate could not even close her eyes. Feeling sick to her stomach, she resigned herself to her fate. She could hear the sounds of battle still raging around her, and if she turned her gaze as far as could manage she could see that on the whole it was not going well for the White Hats. Reah was still down, though the thing atop her now seemed still. Several of the Norsh had fallen. Kyle and Darian and the remaining Norsh were still dealing with the tiny demons and there was no sign of Alessa, Nikolai or Ellis, though she could hear more fighting behind her. Tash was right, nobody was free to help her.
Tash prepared for a larger gulp, but her smile of satisfaction turned to surprise. A glance down showed her something penetrating from her chest, and she looked up, eyes wide, to stare into Kate’s tear-streaked face. Then she felt herself dissolving. Her flesh desiccated and her bones crumbled. “Who?” she whispered, then opened her mouth wider and screamed as the pain finally hit her. Then she was gone, no more than a pile of dust drifting down the alley.
Still trapped in the shell, unable to move or speak, or even blink, Kate stared through the settling dust to the one who had finally put an end to this horror.
He dropped the stake to the ground and blinked back at the frozen Kate. “You’re welcome, Katya,” whispered Nikolai.
On the rooftop Oz said, “It’s over now,” to his unseen companion.
“Thanks, I couldn’t watch right there at the end. It was too close.”
“Now what? You can go now, there’s nothing left for you here.”
Tash’s spirit stepped out from the shadows that had covered her for so long. “I have a place already,” she said, “And I have been there so I know the way.”
Oz looked confused.
Tash smiled radiantly. “G’rnatha,” she explained, looking over her shoulder. “I can hear him calling me. Goodbye Oz. Be sure to … well … do what you can for them.”
He nodded as she faded from his view.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Monday July 23rd, 2007
12:00am
Lone Peak Psychiatric Clinic,
LA
In the commons room where Morris had once held Cole Matthews captive and began creating his army of vampire-mages, the vampire now paced in front a pile of scattered books, parchments and papers, holding a heavy tome open in his hands. It was pitch black but, thanks to his vampiric vision, Morris could see perfectly fine. He continued moving left and right, mouthing the words on the page, and his pace quickening as he grew excited.
All of a sudden Morris stopped and dropped the book to the floor, quickly grabbing another one and hurridely flicking through the pages until he reached what he was looking for. The vampire moved away from the pile - his eyes rooted on the pages before him - and over to one of the walls in the room. As he came closer Morris drew a knife from the pocket of his tattered trousers and, without taking his eyes off the book, slid the index finger of his right hand down the length of the blade. With blood flowing freely, Morris reached up to the wall and began writing furiously in his own blood.
The words joined others. Many others. Words, calculations, sigils, runes...The wall was covered in them top to bottom. All in a deep shade of red - the colour of dried blood.
A pale, frail hand came to rest on Morris' shoulder. "Are we close, my love?"
"Close, close...very close..." Morris muttered, not breaking from his work.
Roxana stepped round in front of him. Her eyes were sparkling. "Morris, my love, you know this is most important to me because it is most difficult. Otherwise I would not have asked you to do it - not trusted you to do it. Tell me, please. I need to know: how close?"
Morris stopped and looked her in the face for the first time. "Closer if I had an item of great worth and mystical power. It could be a....an anchor."
The vampiress smiled. "I know something that would be perfect. Leave it to me, my love. It will be yours shortly." Her hand stroked his face, brushed the unkempt hair out of his eyes. "I must leave now but I shall return soon."
But Morris was already turning away, searching out for another book...
The Aftermath
Wednesday, 25th July 2007 - 2:50am
Reah struggled to breathe. Sticky tar covered most of her face, leaving only one nostril and half her mouth free. By twisting her head beneath the now-inert golem she could see her friends finishing off the last of the little biting demons. The last, that is, except for the couple that were still trying to chew their way through her Kevlar.
"Oi!" she called, the sound muffled. Soft tar oozed into the corner of her mouth, threatening to choke her, and she struggled on the ground, making the whole black mess above her shake. "I said, oi! Anyone wanna give me a hand here? Gack!"
Nikolai controlled his breath as he tried to steady himself. There was still fighting going on, and he couldn't afford to think about what he'd just done. *Tasha can finally rest* he thought. At Reah's cries, he glanced back from Kate, assuring her that she would be alright before running over Reah. Picking up a small pipe, he tried to scrape at least some of it away from her face. It wasn't pleasant, but at least she would be able to breathe. If only Kate were free, she could probably freeze it.
One of the little biting demons made a jump at him, causing some more bleeding from his arm and loud swearing once again.
Kate watched idly as Nikolai rushed off to help Reah, scraping at the tar like substance that threatened to suffocate her if it wasn’t removed soon. Kate felt blood trickling from the wound on her throat, warm and thick. She tried to move but it was useless, the spell – whatever it was that Tash had done to her, held her fast like cement.
She was almost beginning to panic when she felt her magic return like a jolt of electricity. Once it did she could see the impervious shell for what it was - a crude trick even a first year initiate could pull off, if it hadn’t been for the Waringa draining her power it would never have been to hold her.
Concentrating her energy, Kate radiated waves of heat that gradually began to break down the construct, weaving around her stiffened limbs and torso until, with a gasping breath, Kate stumbled forwards. She was soaked to the skin and aching, but apart from that she wasn’t really hurt. Tearing a strip of cloth from her top, Kate fastened it around her neck to stem the flow of blood before joining Nikolai in trying to free Reah.
From the ground, Alessa watched her friends go help Reah. She felt detached, as if watching from outside her own body - getting up to kill that Norsh had used up all the strength she had had left. Well, at least it had worked. She took another glance at Ellis, who looked strangely immobile, and frowned. Too immobile, he was hardly breathing, yet he only had couple of small punctures in his neck where the Norsh had bitten him. Maybe some kind of poison? Alessa despaired, her eyes frantic. Ellis wasn’t breathing.
She tried to get up, but slipped in her own blood, and she was too weak. Why ever hadn’t she stopped bleeding? What kind of knives had those vampires been using? She tried to shout, but no sound came off her throat. She just hoped Kate or Nik noticed her desperation too, her eyes darting from Ellis’ frozen face to her friends.
Kyle stamped on one of the tiny demons and felt it writhe in pain under his burning foot. He grinned as, with a final twist of his foot, he squashed it, burnt bits of its shell going everywhere. That was satisfying the Kaoshian thought as he ripped another from Zax's back, crushing it in his flaming hand. It shrieked and then fell silent. Kyle dropped it to the floor and stamped just for good measure.
"Got your back, man." Kyle returned Zax's high five.
"Wouldn't want it any other way, little firefly." The demon growled, moving on to aid a fellow struggling Norsh.
Kyle looked around. Tash was dust - and about damn time, too. Kate and Nikolai were fighting to free Reah from the Golem, and Kyle didn't want to go anywhere near there, just in case he...'accidentally' set something alight. Then there'd be hell to pay. The surviving Norsh were still battling the little demons and Darian..
Darian was stood to one side just...watching. Watching carefully and quietly in a very un-Darianish manner. Kyle frowned and opened his mouth to shout, but Darian caught his eye. It was only for a moment and only long enough to silence him, then the fae seemed to collapse in on himself. A black raven flapped into the air where he had been and then was gone.
Well, that was...odd.... There would be time to sort it out later, though. Something else more dire had caught Kyle's attention. "Hey, hey!" He yelled, running over to where Alessa was lying on the floor, her frantic eyes desperately darting between Nikolai and Kate - and Ellis, also lying prone nearby.
"Can I get a little help over here!" Kyle yelled again, slipping back into human form and pressing down on her wounds. There were too many, so he focused on what he thought was serious - the large gash on her neck. How did I not see how bad this was earlier? Slick with Alessa's blood, he looked over to Ellis. The man was horribly pale and...not breathing.
Damn, damn, damn, hell, hell, hell... Kyle began cursing. Even he realised he was not the best person for this. He could hand out pain until the damned cows came home, but he could not treat it. "Damnit, someone give me a hand before I kick your collective ass!"
Kate’s eyes were closed as she concentrated on solidifying the substance that coated Reah to such a consistency that it could be removed more easily. As she chanted, Nikolai broke off great chunks with his bare hands. The substance was more like charcoal now than tar and crumbled off with relative ease so that already most of Reah’s upper torso had been freed.
Kyle’s frantic cries, however, pierced through her concentration. Kate held the spell fast, looking over to where the shouts were coming from.
“Oh Gaia,” she moaned in dismay as she saw the motionless bodies of Alessa and Ellis, surrounded by a pool of blood. “Koyla,” said Kate urgently, gesturing towards their other friends. “Can you handle this from here? I have to get over there.”
At his affirmative nod, Kate hitched up her skirt and ran as fast as she could to where her two friends lay. At first she thought she was too late, there was so much blood and Ellis wasn’t even moving. Kate dropped to her knees at the man’s side and lay her hands over him. Though Alessa appeared to be in a lot of pain at least she was conscious, Kate knew that was a good sign, it was far worse when somebody wasn’t making any noise at all.
“Come on Ellis,” urged Kate desperately as she focused all her energy into her healing, her eyes fixed on Alessa in case she worsened.
“She needs help, Kate!” bellowed Kyle frantically as the demoness’ blood covered his hands. “Damn it, she needs help now!”
Cursing loudly, Daye slid out of the van and ran towards the mouth of a nearby alley. She prayed that she wasn't too late, but a flat tire had waylaid her for far longer than it should have. She'd had trouble with her jack and struggled to change the damn thing, perilously close to an all out breakdown a couple of times. It was simply adding insult to injury to have been slowed down by something so...mundane.
Daye rounded the corner and stopped, taking in the scene before her. Kate knelt beside the still body of Ellis Longwood, and Daye felt icy fear in her veins. The man did not even appear to be breathing. Not far away, Alessa lay in a pool of blood, with Kyle beside her looking more than a little frantic. Reah was a little farther in, and Nikolai and a strange demon were working to free her from some black goop.
Making a quick assessment, Daye moved quickly towards Kyle and Alessa. She dropped to the ground beside her friend. "Okay...obviously I missed everything. So...I guess I'm the cleanup crew. Can you tell me what happened to her?"
“Bite in the neck, several knife wounds…” Kyle assessed Alessa’s pale face and cursed again. She should have stopped bleeding by now, he’d seen how fast she closed that kind of wounds when hunting with her. *Damn you, Tash, you thought of everything!*
“There was something in those knives, too, I bet.”
“Gods,” whispered Daye quietly as she quickly set about pulling back the fabric of Alessa’s clothes from her wounds, exposing the bloody mess of her flesh. The raw gash on her neck sent shivers down her spine as she thought about the night that she’d nursed Drew’s dead body in her arms.
“Not again,” she muttered to herself as she removed several herbs from the pouch on her belt and applied them to Alessa’s wounds. “I won’t let it happen again.”
“Agrimony,” shouted Kate from further back, still kneeling by Ellis’ side. He’d been infected with some kind of poison that had caused his body to go into such a severe paralysis that he could barely breath. Kate had managed to relieve some of the symptoms but was still having trouble forcing the toxin to retreat from his body.
“Agrimony will reverse any magic if a spell has been used against her,” explained Kate before returning her attention back to Ellis. She held her hands above his body as it twitched intermittently with his uneven breathing and began to chant once more in low, barely audible tones.
“Hear my call, for those who fall.
Purge him to awaken,
From this toxin taken.”
Meanwhile Daye made up the potion needed for Alessa, and smeared it onto her wounds while Kyle watched on from afar.
Reaching into his back pocket, the Kaoshian grabbed his pack of smokes and lit the first one he could. As much as he hated to admit it, his nerves were on end slightly as he watched the scene unfold. Quick puffs of smoke jetted from his lips as he waited for the witches to do their mojo.
“Not nice, huh? This feeling of helplessness,” a voice said from behind him. “Anybody would say you do care.”
Kyle didn’t bother to turn his head, but puffed again with a slightly trembling hand. “Shut up, and go back to your corner.” He answered.
“Come on Ellis,” whispered Kate as she focused all her concentration on her spell. She could feel the poison in his system begin to retreat as his natural defences worked overtime to combat the toxin. “I’m not about to lose anyone else tonight so you can just book your bloody ideas up, okay?”
“It’s working!” declared Daye suddenly in triumph as a sort of red haze lifted out of Alessa’s body and as it did the demoness seemed to rouse herself as though from a deep sleep.
With disheartening slowness air started to enter Ellis’ aching lungs. He tried to gulp, inhale deeply, but couldn’t still. His eyeballs rounded and fixed on Kate’s straining face, and his mouth twitched. He had been able to hear the whole exchange, and was desperate to know how Alessa was doing. Daye’s triumphal shout was as fulfilling as the air he was finally receiving, and he could smile at the witch at last.
With a swoosh, breathe suddenly filled his lungs and he inhaled deeply into the night’s air. His body seemed to suddenly unlock and he quickly sat up and turned to Alessa.
“She’s all right?” he asked, paling again at the sight of his love bathed in blood.
Kate smiled, looking over at Alessa as Daye helped her to sit up. Hearing Ellis’ question Daye turned around with visible tears of relief in her eyes. She nodded encouragingly.
“Yes… yes I think she will be. There must have been some kind of spell on whatever weapon was used to harm her, but now it’s been lifted her body’s accelerated healing can kick in again. It already seems to be getting to work, she’s stopped bleeding.”
“Thank you,” he said, wholeheartedly, to the two witches, as he moved towards Alessa. Daye was right, the bleeding had stopped and some of the lesser cuts were already closing themselves, showing pinkish new flesh where the slashes had been. But Alessa still looked terribly pale, drained almost, nevertheless she was smiling.
“How are you?” she asked, weakly, taking in the several places where Odeli demons had got at him, and the bright red punctures in his neck where Lars had bit him.
“Never been better,” Ellis answered, almost weeping with relief.
Alessa sighed. “Is it over?” she asked.
Ellis looked around at the darkened alley. Darian was nowhere to be seen, but neither was his corpse, so he guessed he was all right. Nikolai, meanwhile, was trying to help Reah clean some dark and sticky substance from her body and hair. The witches were looking tired but relieved. The Norsh were regrouping and checking on their dead - too many of which had fallen to the Odeli critters. Kyle seemed to be ok, if a bit shaken - he wouldn’t forget his part in Alessa’s survival. And Tash… Tash was finally dust.
“Yeah, I guess it’s over,” he answered.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
25th July, 2007
Longwood States
4:22 am
The sky was already clearing when Ellis helped Alessa into her bedroom. He tried to sound lighthearted, but he was worried. She was weak as a kitten, pale and tired. Obviously in shock too, as her almost not talking all the way home showed. Stepping into the bathroom, he prepared a bath for her. When he came back into the bedroom Alessa was watching herself in the big mirror on top of her vanity.
She was covered with dried blood, her white tank top a muddy brown and her hair matted and sticky. The improvised bandage around her neck was showing too much red too, the bright red of fresh blood.
“I look horrible” she said, closing her eyes and leaning onto the vanity to support herself.
Ellis walked to her and gently raised her face, grinning. “You don't look horrible, Alessa. You’re beautiful.” And she was alive, that was what mattered the most. “Come on, a bath will do wonders on you.”
“I don’t want a bath, I don’t think I’d resist it.” She mumbled. “Probably drown in my own bañera.”
“I wouldn’t let you, love” Ellis said, almost fiercely. However, what worried him at that moment was the hollow expression in her eyes as she obediently followed him into the bathroom. The night’s events would not be easy to accept for a while, if ever, but her face showed more than shock, and for once he couldn’t read her.
He helped Alessa out of her clothes to her underwear. Ellis inspected her detachedly, too worried to see past her wounds. Daye’s magic had mended the cuts, and the patches of healing skin on her shoulder, arms and legs showed starkly pale against her bronze skin, as did the bandage in her neck.
All those were in their way to healing; Ellis was happy to see. He was still surprised at her hardiness. He remembered how he had seen her, lying in her own blood, and shuddered. He had been too close to lose her, it didn’t evade him that she’d have died if she were human. Unwillingly, his gaze graced from his wounds to the mounds of her small breasts and he bit back a groan.
“Get into the tub,” he said, a little too briskly, and turned to let her completely disrobe. She’d need a dressing gown, anyway. When he got back to the bathroom with the piece of clothing, the bath’s water was a dirty pink, and Alessa was already wrapped in a large white towel. She looked flushed, though, and not only from the bath.
Ellis caressed her cheek with his cold hand. It felt like it would burn because her skin was so warm, exceeding her normal body temperature. He frowned. “You have a fever.”
“That feels good.” Alessa sighed and leaned into the cool caress. “But I don’t get fevers,” she retorted.
“You're hot, anyway.” He said, “and you do get fevers, I remember not long ag-” He stopped mid-sentence, remembering the cause of her last sickness. “Come on, let’s put you into bed,” he said and jumped ahead to help her when she almost stumbled. Not two minutes later she was lying down in her big bed, hollow eyed and silent.
In an urge to prompt her from her indifference, he spoke. “Do you even have a thermometer?”
“I think there’s one in the bathroom cabinets,” she answered, her voice sounding flat. “Although the reason why escapes me.”
“For moments such as this, why else?” He replied, as he walked to the bathroom again. He quickly returned with a tray carrying the small instrument and other nursing items, and sat besides her in the bed.
“Here.” He offered the thermometer to Alessa. She slowly opened her mouth. The man delicately placed it under her tongue and sat back to watch her while the digital temperature taker beeped, working its magic. He smiled weakly at her, that odd expression in her eyes strangely unnerving.
Alessa tried to mumble something around the thermometer, but didn't succeed on getting her point across. “Shut your mouth, love.” Ellis smiled. “You'll mess up the numbers if you keep talking.”
She obediently shut her mouth tightly and attempted to massage her own aching shoulder. Ellis saw her wince at the movement and rose to his knees on the bed.
“Here. Let me.” He slid behind her and started gently massaging her shoulders and neck. Alessa tensed up, but felt herself start to relax as soon as Ellis's fingers began rubbing her sore muscles, circling around the tender healing skin where the knives had pierced her. The one on her shoulder had passed all the way through, and it was the one giving her more pain.
Ellis’ hands moved with dexterity and precision, very matter-of-factly, or at least seemingly so - she could feel his fingers trembling whenever he raised his hands from her skin. It felt extremely well and she closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling. She had missed him, oh Dios, how she had missed him. She couldn’t believe how close of losing him she’d been tonight. Every time she closed her eyes she could see him, frozen and not breathing… and she shuddered. She’d been a fool to deny her feelings for so long. The events of the night had shown her how fragile he was, she was - life was too short. Dusting Tash… Alessa gulped. Tash had been so vibrant, so alive, and now she was only ashes. It just didn’t feel right.
Suddenly the thermometer beeped loudly, surprising them both. Reaching around her, Ellis pulled the thermometer out of the demoness’ mouth before she had a chance to do it herself. “Yes, a fever all right.” Ellis held the small screen in front of Alessa, showing her the reading.
She shrugged. “Not much, it must be already descending. I heal fast. Sangre de demonio.”
“You better lay down anyway,” he replied, trying to sound light-hearted while he pushed her down onto the bed and pulled the blanket up to her neck.
“No. I'm too hot.” Alessa pushed the covers down to her stomach and weakly kicked it the rest of the way off. She wasn’t taking her eyes off him.
“But you never have a fever,” Ellis chuckled. He looked at Alessa’s neck, the bandage was still in place. “Sit up.” He gently commanded.
Alessa struggled to a sitting position and Ellis slowly unwrapped her neck, exposing the ugly wound. The cloth had stuck to it, and Alessa hissed in pain a couple of times.
“Sorry, dear,” Ellis said softly, trying to go as gently as possibly. He reached to the tray on the nightstand and took a sponge to clean the wound with. Daye’s magic had restrained the blood and healed it some, but she had been too intent in lifting the magic curse off the knives wounds at the moment, and most of her effort had gone to those. He started to clean her neck, when he finished, he wrapped a new, clean cloth around the wound.
“Tengo frío. I'm cold,” Alessa complained and collapsed back onto the bed when Ellis finished his ministrations.
Ellis frowned and pressed his palm to her forehead. She didn’t have a temperature any longer; she hadn’t been gloating when she said the fever was descending. He looked at her arms, goose-bumps were already forming there. The flimsy dressing gown didn’t help matters. He doubted for a second, but when he saw her shivering he made up his mind. Ellis helped her out of it, and slid a warm cotton nightgown onto her. “Better?” He asked.
“Maybe some water?” she asked back, snuggling beneath the covers. She was still feeling very cold, but was enjoying his fussing about her. It was incredible how well he was, Kate had healed the Norsh and Odile bites after getting him rid of the paralyzing toxin, and he was as good as new. Again, she had to fight a shudder at the thougth of what could have happened.
“Of course,” Ellis answered, oblivious of her thoughts. He leaned onto the night table again and picked a tall glass of water, bringing it to Alessa’s lips. She gratefully drank a third of the liquid before stopping to breathe.
“You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” She chuckled, biting her lower lip.
Ellis's eyes were so riveted on her lips that he forgot to continue holding the glass to her mouth.
Alessa smiled. “Don't I get any more?”
The man shook his head, as if to knock out the invading thoughts of kissing her, and offered her more water, waiting until Alessa emptied the glass.
“I'm not that helpless.” She said softly as Ellis put the glass onto the night table again.
“Quiet, love. I want to be helpful.” Ellis mumbled, caressing her with his eyes.
Alessa smiled. “You are helpful.”
“Yeah?”
“Sí. I’d probably be all by myself, trying to drink without spilling the glass of water sobre mi if it wasn't for you.”
“Oh, I feel honored,” Ellis grimaced, his tone mocking hurt.
“You should,” Alessa giggled, leaning back in bed again.
Ellis slid up next to her and placed his hand on her forehead. He frowned, “you've got a bit of a fever again.”
Alessa nodded under his hand and sighed. “Demon and human ways of healing battling, it’s happened before. Don’t worry.”
“Ok.” He answered, he wouldn’t even attempt to understand that. “Sleep.” He demanded. She nodded in agreement.
Ellis stood up and started to leave, but stopped when he heard her weak voice. “Ellis.”
“Yes, love?”
“Would... Um, would you stay with me?” Alessa requested timidly. With all that had happened, all that they’d done she didn’t feel like staying alone. She wouldn’t stay alone a day longer.
Ellis flashed her a understanding smile. “Of course, dear.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand.
“Don't watch me when I sleep.” Alessa laughed weakly, watching him. His face was full of concern, but nothing compared to the fear she had seen in his eyes earlier that night, when he had thought she’d die. A fear she was sure hers had shown as well.
Ellis chuckled. This woman was going to make him crazy. “What do you want me to do then?”
“Just lay down next to me. You're cool. You feel good.” Her head was spinning, and not only because of the fever. She didn’t want to part from him - not now, not ever.
“Sure,” he took off his shoes and sat down besides her.
“No, you won’t get into my bed in those dirty clothes.” Alessa said, blushing and averting her eyes.
If Ellis' heart had been a bird, it’d have taken flight just then, fluttering as it was. He just nodded and took off his jeans and t-shirt before sliding into bed with her. He felt her wrap her arms around his waist. Alessa sighed in contentment, resting her feverish face against his cool skin.
“Alessa?” Ellis asked, looking down at her head, shoved into his chest.
“Hmm?” She asked as she lifted her face to look at him. He was so close. Those incredibly blue eyes of his watching her with so much love showing in them that Alessa couldn’t help but raising her mouth to kiss him.
Ellis bent down to Alessa, but before his lips touched hers, he pulled away. “You think this is wise?” He asked, his voice strained, desire and common sense battling in him.
“Do you love me?” Alessa asked back.
“You know I do.” He said, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “But I don’t think this is the best of times to be doing this. You’re hurt, and in shock. Why, with Tash-”
She pressed a finger to his mouth, and stopped him from talking. She looked up at him in silence for a some time, watching him simply watch her back. She could almost hear the change in his heart rating, in his breathing, as minutes passed by. His body felt tense against hers, and she longed for the suppleness she knew he possessed, for his strength. But it wasn’t just that. It was more than sex, much more. Having him so close to death had served her to grasp her feelings, at least. And she just needed him to know.
“I love you too.” She said at last, pausing for a second before going on.
“After I came back from Colombia, pieces of me were missing.” She waved, “not only my memory, or what Hyde took from me. Other things. Emotions, my confidence. Mi corazón. Pieces I left back with Morris, and afterwards with Chance... I thought I could never get those parts of me back. But you... you saved me. You gave me back what I thought I could never have again... You’ve stood by my side all the time, unwavering, even infected. You truly love me. I always knew, but I've never been so sure as I am now.”
“Being close to death – almost losing you - made me realize that I can’t keep this to myself any longer. My feelings.”
“There's no doubt in my mind that I love you.” Alessa smiled up at him, raising her hand to brush his hair off his forehead with two fingers. “I just needed to tell you that.”
“And I needed to hear it,” Ellis answered, his face still too serious for Alessa’s liking.
Alessa grinned a little doubtfully and initiated a second kiss, her doubts completely downed when she felt him kiss her back with a longing, somehow desperate, need. Alessa’s hands traveled Ellis’ back, feeling his skin, so familiar, and she arched her spine to fit his body. He groaned, and kept kissing her with raising urgency. Alessa smiled. She'd never been the type to run from her fears, to escape from danger by turning tail, but she had been doing it for too long. It was only fair that in the face of so much death, they had their love to celebrate life.
It Must Be Love
****Wednesday, 25th July 2007 – 3:34am
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge****
Galen had lost count of how many times he’d looked at his watch that night. Silently, under his breath, he cursed himself for allowing Kate to persuade him to not join the other White Hats tonight. Not that he hadn’t argued with her until he was blue in the face, but in the end Kate had pleaded – no, begged him to stay at home, and he couldn’t refuse. Tash might be a vampire but she still had the memories of Tash, she knew the White Hats, their strengths and weaknesses and Kate had been terrified that she might make her husband a target just to gain an advantage over them.
So, reluctantly, Galen had agreed to stay at home, despite the fact that he’d done little else but sit at the window, by the telephone, waiting for his wife to come back to him.
“Where are you?” he mumbled to himself worriedly, “it shouldn’t be taking this long… where are you? Where are you?” Galen looked at the telephone in his hand and frowned. “Ring, ring damn you!”
“You know better than that,” said a soft, tired voice from the hallway, “it’s never going to ring if you keep watching it.”
“Kate!”
Galen dropped the phone on the floor as he leapt to his feet and flew to his wife’s side. She leaned awkwardly in the doorway, looking worn and weary; a scrap of cloth had been tied awkwardly around her throat and was now soaked red with blood, but otherwise she looked well.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, burying his face in her hair. Despite everything that she’d endured tonight it still smelled sweet, like honey. “Oh I was so worried about you,” he sighed quietly, laying a gentle kiss against the slope of her shoulder.
Kate leaned slightly into Galen’s embrace, feeling so tired she could barely stand. She held on to him and rested her head against his chest.
“I should have come with you,” whispered Galen softly, “I should have been there…”
“No, no…” Kate mumbled into his the smooth folds of his shirt. “I’m fine, really I am and… I felt better, knowing that you were safe.” Kate looked up at her husband, a sad, morose expression in her eyes. “If anything had happened to you…”
“And Tash?” asked Galen warily, he reached up and unfastened the wrinkled length of fabric from Kate’s throat. Wiping away the dried blood that had congealed around the wound - two small puncture marks.
Kate lifted up the collar of her coat uneasily, trying to cover her injury. “She’s… she’s gone.”
“But not before leaving a little parting gift right?” asked Galen speculatively, pulling back Kate’s collar to examine what was the unmistakable bite of the vampire. Galen touched the sensitive skin of her throat gently, but it still made Kate wince. Her flesh was inflamed and slightly swollen, too sore to be handled at any rate. Kate shrugged him away uncomfortably and, after what seemed like a brief moment of indecision, headed towards the kitchen.
Galen followed and watched his wife as she opened a cupboard and removed a bottle of Redlands Chiraz and a glass. As she began to pour, Kate glanced up and caught sight of her reflection in the dark glass front of the kitchen cabinet. Her entire face appeared haunted, almost grey looking. As Kate continued to gaze into the glass, she saw the reflection of Tash’s face appear behind her right shoulder. Her eyes glowed malevolently and her lips were smeared with a fresh coating of blood.
All the while Kate’s hand continued to pour out the wine from the bottle, the red liquid splashing into the bottom of the glass, rising steadily towards the rim.
In the kitchen cabinet, Kate replayed those final moments before Tash had been staked. She could see it all so clearly, the painful pulsation in her throat as the vampiress fed, and then the startled expression in those dead, barely human eyes just seconds before she shattered into dust and blew away on the wind. In that single moment Kate had seen the last vestige of her friend leave this mortal plane, leaving nothing behind of the brave, valiant woman that she had loved so much.
Numb tears froze in Kate’s eyes. Even when she’d held that katana in her hand and aimed it so steadily at Tash’s throat with all the intention of severing her head and ending her days, even then she hadn’t believed that it would really happen, that Tash would be gone. Tash who had been her first real companion in the city, who had helped rescue her from Serapis and nursed her broken heart after Emma’s death.
Red wine overflowed the rim of the glass and began to pool on the counter, running off the edge and dripping on the floor. Galen’s hand closed around Kate’s wrist as he directed the bottle back down onto the counter.
“Honey?” he said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder.
Kate felt herself tremble inside, brought back from those memories of Tash with a suddenness that was overwhelming. She quickly pressed her hand against her mouth in an attempt to stifle an unexpected sob, but then a second came and a third. She leaned against the kitchen counter for support before Galen took hold of her again and wrapped her up in his strong embrace as she wept into his shirt, burying her face against his clean smelling warmth.
“I know we had to do it,” she said between sobs, her voice broken and almost breathless. “I know… I know we didn’t have a choice.”
Galen tightened his hold on his wife, pressing her head against his shoulder protectively and stroking his fingers through her hair. “Tash was already dead,” he whispered quietly, “the Tash we knew, our friend. She was dead and gone the moment that vampire turned her into one of them. Tonight was… tonight was just laying her to rest. It was what she would have wanted.”
“I know…” admitted Kate softly, her tears subsiding somewhat. “I know but, I can’t help thinking that… well what if there had been another way? What if we just didn’t look hard enough. Sorrow-”
“Sorrow was different,” Galen interrupted swiftly. “He wasn’t entirely lost, he had some measure of control. That thing tonight… that wasn’t Tash, you know that as well as I do. We lost Tash the moment she became a vampire.”
He held her in front of him so that he could look her in the face, her eyes were red and wet with tears. Reaching out, Galen wiped them away with his thumb. “We’ll mourn Tash. She was a dear, dear friend and I will miss her just as much as you will. But don’t regret tonight, it’s not what she would have wanted.”
Slowly, Kate nodded in agreement.
A warm smile softened the worry on Galen’s face and he looked down at their entwined hands, at the sparkle of diamond and platinum that graced the slender length of Kate’s ring finger. When he looked up again she was staring at him intently, biting her lower lip with thoughtful contemplation.
Galen frowned. “What is it?”
A low breath escaped Kate’s lips, “just this…”
Slowly she leaned forward, her eyelids flickering closed slightly as she directed her mouth towards Galen’s, pressing her lips against his. She kissed him slowly, meaningfully. Closing her eyes fully and parting her lips ever so slightly so that she could taste that warm, familiar taste of her husband.
Galen was taken by surprise and his breath trembled with barely restrained desire as they parted. He continued to hold onto Kate, one hand caressing her jaw line and gently brushing his thumb against the thin indentation of a scratch. He felt that now, almost familiar pang of distress deep in the pit of his stomach. He felt it every time he thought about Tony and how he had raped his wife less than a week ago. It was a silent, aching pain that rushed through him in a wave whenever he thought about what he’d read in the various police and medical reports – of the detailed recount of that night… something that Kate was still finding difficult to talk about.
“Do you realise,” said Kate softly, running her hand up her husband’s chest and stroking him through the cotton material of his shirt. “Do you realise that I haven’t touched you in days… and I can’t stand it?”
She fiddled with the buttons, unfastening a few and sliding her hand inside to touch Galen’s bare skin. She felt him shiver slightly. “I need you so much, I want you. I want… to make love to you tonight…”
Galen closed his eyes and groaned quietly as Kate leaned in and kissed him again, her soft lips playing a slow, gentle dance across his mouth. “Are you sure about this?” he moaned as she unbuttoned his shirt even further and ran her hand over the sensitive area of his nipples.
“I mean it’s so soon after… I didn’t think you’d be ready for anything, well so soon.” Galen stroked Kate’s hair back gently. “I really wouldn’t want to hurt you…”
Kate shook her head, focusing her attention on stroking her fingers back and forth through the wispy curls of dark hair on Galen’s chest.
“You know, Tash was the strongest of all of us… and she’s dead. For years I’ve seen her fight some of the most powerful beings I’ve ever come up against; the Brotherhood, Serapis, Delancre… and in the end it was just some nameless vamp that killed her.”
Kate shook her head again sadly, “it makes you think… none of us are indestructible. We could die tomorrow, crossing the street or choking on a chicken bone. It wouldn’t have to be some grand gesture of laying down our lives for the greater good… it could be insignificant, a blip, and then all this… is over.”
Sighing thoughtfully, Kate looked up at her husband, holding his gaze. “If I died tomorrow… I wouldn’t want the last man that ever, that ever touched me…” Kate looked stolidly into Galen’s eyes, “I can’t explain it… I just need to be with you tonight.”
Galen took her hand and brought it up to his lips, laying a kiss on the back just above her fingers and the sparkle of her wedding ring. “You don’t have to explain it. I understand you, remember?”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday 25th July, 3:25 am
Air caught beneath the shiny black feathers of the large raven as it gracefully descended from the dark night sky. Without a sound, its tiny feet landed against the concrete walkway before Poplar Avenue and it made three tiny hops before the change began. Where the raven was not 5 seconds earlier, now stood the 6’1 form of the half fae Darian.
Looking up at the building, the man paused as if inspecting it for the first time before making his way towards the door. He stopped. With an annoyed look, the fae turned around to see the kaoshian standing behind him.
“Since when did you start spying on people Kyle?”
Kyle shrugged, chucking the butt of his cigarette to the floor where it continued to burn down to the filter. "I lurk." He looked at the building towards their room up on the second floor. "If you can fly, why didn't you just fly up to the room?"
The irritated scowl across his face grew as he sized up the fire demon. Normally he had the patience to deal with Kyle’s direct nature, but tonight he was in no mood.
“What’s your problem?” he asked equally direct. “Do you always have to make your little comments?”
An expression of bemusment slowly blossomed on Kyle's face. The scorn in Darian's voice wasn't characterful of the usual goody-goody two-shoes he knew. It immediately threw him onto the defensive and temporarily eclipsed any growing suspicion he had. "Huh That's what I get for
trying to make polite conversation with people. I knew there was a reason I don't bother." He brushed past Darian and up the steps towards the front door, muttering to himself about the world in general. "Have you got your key? I lost mine in the fight..."
The fae rolled his eyes as he pushed past Kyle, non too gently, and unlocked the door. “Can fight a vampire but isn’t smart enough to remember his house keys.” It was the man’s turn to mutter, although at this proximity, the fae was sure Kyle had heard him.
Whilst Darian stepped through, Kyle took a step backwards and remained outside. He couldn't remember Darian talking to him like that before. In fact, now he thought about it, he couldn't really remember Darian talking to anybody like that. Something was up, even Kyle could see that. He remembered the fae's sudden dissapearence after Tash had been dusted. Taking a deep breath he let out a sigh. "Woah. Ok man, what's up? First you take off, like, straight after the fight and vanish and now you're acting kinda weird. Is it...is it about Tash?"
The man froze at the sound of the name. For a second, Kyle thought he hit it on the nose until Darian finally spoke. “Maybe I’m just not in the mood for your snide, teenage lip anymore.” As he advanced towards his teenage friend, his tone turned even more aggressive. “Even after everything people…I do for you, you still cant be respectful let alone nice and frankly I’m tired of it!”
"Hey! I'm trying to be nice!" Kyle exclaimed, outraged. "Jeez, and people wonder why I'm so anti-social." The Kaoshian turned his back on the fae and began walking down the steps and away from the building. "You know what, Darian, maybe you should
just go cool off. I'm gonna go get a beer..."
A haunting ghostly voice broke the brief silence. “Who the hell do you thhhhink you are?”
Before Kyle could react, Darian had grabbed hold of him, and pushed him viciously up against the wall of the building.
The kid’s face grimaced as the back of his head smacked against the hard brick. When he looked up back at his attacker, he was stunned to see a creepy smile on the fae’s youthful face.
Darian squeezed Kyle’s arms painfully as he held him in place. And then just as suddenly as it happened, Darian released his friend and backed away. The sick smile he had faded into a look of fear and confusion.
“Oh my god…Kyle I…I didn’t mean…” He stood there, horrified by what he had just done.
Kyle was all tensed up and itching for a fight. He could feel the adrenaline running through his veins and his fire burning feircly within. But...no. No, this was Darian, even if he was acting weird. Probably still freaked out from the Tash dusting. Wuss. Obviously the guy had some
issues he needed to work out. A right-hook to the face probably wasn't going to help the situation any. "Yeah. Right. Beer." He repeated in a stern voice full of barely restrained violence.
"Don't touch me." The demon added as he pushed himself off the wall and set off and away at a fast pace.
The fae thought to call out, but ultimately remained silent. He wasn’t sure why he had exploded at Kyle, and could offer no excuse for his behaviour. Instead, he watched his friend storm off and then headed inside to his apartment.
Arms flew around him the second he stepped through the door.
“Baby, I was so worried!” Liala sighed with relief as she held on fast to her lover. “My powers may not be as strong now that I’m human, but I just knew it happened tonight. Oh Darian I’m so sorry about everything.”
“Why are you sorry, you’re not the one who turned her into a vampire so don’t apologize,” he replied ambiguously.
*What was that tone?* she thought, slowly letting go of Darian. *He must be just stressed from the fight*
Or was there something more. Liala studied him as he strolled into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Sadness, regret, and turmoil bled out from his aura in waves, filling the room with a dreary negative vibe. It was completely understandable given that he had just watched one of his best friends die, yet still, she could swear there was something more….something….
“You coming to bed?” Darian asked as he tossed his bloody t-shirt onto the couch and trudged his way to the bedroom.
Liala hesitated for a moment, biting her lip in contemplation. *Are you hiding something Darian* she lamented praying silently that she was mistaken before following her lover to bed.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday 25th July,
Bob's Bar
4:10 am
Kyle felt like the odd one out. For all intents and purposes, he was. A young human sat at a table next to three large, purple Norsh demons. Zax, Grons, and Harl. All three were the survivors of the Norsh party that had joined the fight. But Kyle knew he was fully welcome in the group because of the Norsh mentality. He had fought alongside them and shed blood with them. They were brothers.
The mood was somber. Grons was greiving over Lars, Harl over his sister Sarn, and Zax over all of the Norsh lost in the fight. Kyle, too, felt remorse for it was he who had urged Zax to help them. In a way, it felt like he had killed them. For some reason tonight, the night of Tash's second death, that struck home harder than ever before. It was a rare pang of guilt - and he hated it.
Zax set down his large, empty mug on the table top hard enough to make all three look up at him. The demon slowly broke out into a grin. "We fought well tonight." All around the table nodded in agreement. Zax looked at them oddly. "Hey! We're Norsh demons! We fight to live and live to fight!" Harl and Lars showed a little more enthusiasm, raising their own mugs in salute. "I wish Lars found a better death, but his last moments will not be forgotten. He was at your side, Grons, when you led the charge and fought as well as I've ever seen him."
Grons rumbled something in Norsh and slapped the table top.
"Harl," Zax said, turning to the other Norsh, "I saw Sarn fight. She was the equal of any male! She can go to the gates of Narn holding her head high and with pride, knowing that she gave her best."
Kyle watched in astonishment as a sudden change came over the purple demons. No longer were they wallowing in self-pity. Now they were all smiles and cheers and roars, remembering the glorious last moments of their fallen comrades.
"We're Norsh!" Zax cried again, and now the other two picked up the cry, too. "We fight to live and live to fight!"
Harl and Grons broke out into another roar of applause, bringing their mugs together and downing the rest of the contents. Zax turned round to Kyle and looked at him oddly. "Come on, little firefly. It was a great fight! We wouldn't have missed it for the Horn of Savern!"
The Kaoshian shrugged. "Sorry. I just...can't help but think that, y'know, somehow I'm...like...responsible..."
THe Norsh let out a huge, bellowing laugh. "Of course you're responsible!" Kyle did a double take. "You're responsible for bringing great honour to our tribe! Those who fell tonight will never be forgotten. They rose to the challenge and were not found wanting!" Zax rose from his chair, motioning for the other two to do the same. They all stood and turned to Kyle, raising their mugs towards him. "For the honour you brought us and our bretheren tonight, and for the honour you won yourself, Kyle Ashton, Kaoshian demon of the White Hat tribe, we salute you!"
All three let out a Norsh battlecry that rattled the bar and send Bob diving for cover. Kyle was left speechless. Kyle Ashton...of the White Hat tribe... That felt...good. He was of something. A part of something. Kyle couldn't remember the last time he had felt a part of something, and he couldn't help but smile and laugh along with them.
"Come on, guys," he said when they had all finished, "none of that. Just get me a drink." Kyle Ashton of the White Hat tribe...
Harl waved for Bob's attention whilst Grons slapped Kyle on the back in approval. It nearly knocked the wind out of him but he didn't seem to notice. Yes, they were something like a tribe, he guessed. A tribe he was a part of...and until recently Tash undoubtedly led, just like Zax did for the Norsh. Perhaps he should take after the Norsh demons and celebrate life as much as death. That sounded...right.
For the first time in a long time he felt like he belonged somewhere. And not just with Zax and Grons and the other Norsh demons, but with Alessa and Darian and Cole and all the others...with the White Hats. Yes, even Darian and his current weirdness. One thing was for certain, he knew he didn't want to go like Tash - like Tash did originally, anyway: alone. Kyle was sure that if he stayed here, with these people, he'd die - yes, he'd accepted that some time ago - but he'd die well. Zax, at least, would make certain of that. Until then, he'd live amongst friends. Like Tash had.
Lighting up another cigarette and looking round at the Norsh demons, thinking about the people he had fought alongside tonight and on other nights, it didn't sound so bad after all.
Harl passed him his drink and Kyle raised it in silent tribute to Tash.
Watching from the corner, Hayden beamed a toothy grin and slowly faded away.
Season Five: July 25th, 2007 - ???
July 25th, 2007
Late morning
Longwood States
The first thing Alessa noticed was how warm and comfortable she was. She was resting on something solid, warm, and moving. A slow, soothing, up and down motion. Rapidly, her other senses began sending her reports. A faintly musky scent spiced with pine filled her nose. The sound of even breathing just above her and puffs of air stirring her bangs. And, si..., that was a hand resting on her waist.
And it felt wonderful.
Contented, she shifted around and pushed herself up a little to bring her companion's face into better view. Ellis was deeply asleep besides her, dark lashes setting lightly on his cheeks, twitching with the movement of the eyes. His lips were partly open and his strong jaw line softened in sleep. She kissed the corner his mouth softly and his chest under her heaved with a deep breath, his arm tightening in response to her movement. He let go a sigh, and turned to her.
Alessa shifted again, for better movement this time. He was awake, even if still close-eyed. She smiled, and let her fingers roam over Ellis’ face, as if trying to learn the shape of him by heart. A soft moan rippled from Ellis’ throat at her touch and he opened his eyes.
“Did I tell you I loved you?”
“Not today, no.” She answered, smiling. “Did I?”
“Nope. Do tell me.”
“Let me show you...” she said instead and propped herself on her elbow a little more to kiss him again. However, the movement pained her wounded shoulder, and she fell back to the bed. She had completely forgotten her wounds, so well she felt. “Ouch,” she exclaimed.
“No, no. That’s not good.” He chuckled, changing positions to watch her instead. She was pale still, but her cheeks sported the faintest hint of color under her tan and her eyes shone a bright, merry green. She was healing fast. “You’re still weak, but I won’t admit any excuses.”
“Excusas?”
“For telling me you love me,” he smiled down at her, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it.”
“Te amo.”
“Mmmm, see? There are even variations to it.”
Alessa chuckled, her sane arm rising to bring him towards her. “Te amo. Je t’aime. Eu te amo... Enough?”
“Not really. Enough for now, anyway,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers. Alessa smiled and Ellis’ tongue ran over the soft curve of her lower lip before seeking entrance to her mouth.
The wet, secret sensation of his tongue coaxing Alessa’s further into his mouth was intoxicating. For a while that slipped away far too quickly, Alessa’s world was comprised solely of Ellis and the kiss they shared. Nothing else mattered.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Thursday July 25th, 2007
10:31am
Alhambra Station,
LA
He stepped off the train at Alhambra station and looked around. Passengers flowed off around him like water around a rock. Then the current changed direction. A number of hard looks passed his way, but he ignored them. Looks were merely looks.
The station itself had had a refit, the previous suffering an unfortunate…accident. Yes. That’s what they all called it. An ‘accident’. An unexpected and undesirable event. Pretty accurate. Well, he knew better, didn’t he?
There was something he felt he should say at a time like this. Something appropriate. Something like…
“Home sweet home.” Chance murmured, and then stepped towards the exit.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 25th, 2007
Noon
“Mmmmmm, that’s nice,” Alessa smiled against Ellis’ lips when he stopped her in the way to the door. He laughed and wrapped his hands around her waist.
“You like, huh?” He asked as he deepened the kiss and pressed her against him. Alessa’s arms lifted around his head, adjusting her height to his. A sudden cramp in her leg made her almost stumble, and Ellis had to catch her from falling. “Better not try those stunts for the time being, love,” he said, steadying her on her feet.
“Sí, I better,” she smiled, but her leg was aching and she limped to the door. However, she was smiling when she opened it.
...And saw staring back at her a face she didn't think she'd ever see again.
He was smiling his old, lop-sided grin and wearing that worn and battered red leather jacket. His hair looked just as wild and unruly as it used to. His eyes were as deep as Alessa remembered but - and here was the only difference she could notice - harboured sorrow, a shadow of something.
"Hello, Alessa." Chance said, in that semi-British accent. He glanced at Ellis and his eyebrows rose at the unfamiliar face. "I hope I'm not interrupting something."
Alessa blinked. Images from the past passed in front of her eyes with increasing speed, and then faded into black. Her legs cramped again, giving in under her, but this time she just started to slump, like in a slow motion picture. Ellis jumped ahead to take Alessa in his arms before she hit the ground.
Chance darted forward, too, but came up short when Ellis grabbed her. He glanced at him again before turning back to Alessa with a face full of concern. "Alessa? Alessa, are you okay?"
Ellis took a deep breath, and shook his head. This wasn’t good, it wasn’t good at all. He looked at Chance’s face and tried to sound civil
“She’s fine. She just had a rough night.” *And a dead ex lover in the morning,* he thought while he swept her in his arms and started back into the house again.
The ghost of a smile crept across Chance's face. "Yes, that sounds like LA alright. Here, let me give you a hand." He stepped across the doorway and held the door open. Then he walked into the house after Ellis. Ellis led him across the hall and into the living room. Chance looked around the great hall once and paled. Yes, he knew this place. An 'accident' had happened here too. "Look, I'm sorry about just dropping in like this. I can see how it'd be a bit of a shock..."
“Indeed,” Ellis cultured voice sounded icy as he laid Alessa on the couch. He watched her intently, taking in her pallor and shallow breathing. The bandage on her neck showed some red on it, and he cursed inwardly. After looking at Chance’s eyes, he slapped Alessa’s cheek softly. “Come on, Alessa, it’s ok.”
Alessa opened her eyes, she had come to almost immediately, but she had been playing for some time... listening to Chance and Ellis’ voices… together. Chance, how could it be? Without noticing she was voicing her thoughts, she spoke. “Chance, how can this be?”
Chance looked down at her with a warm, comforting smile. Her confusion was pretty evident on her face and he was attempting to portray an aura of calm. "Alessa...It’s good to see you again. We should probably talk..." he glanced at Ellis, "....alone. Then I'll explain what I can.” With a distant look and a shrug, he added; "I'm afraid it won't be much but I'll do my best to answer all those questions you've probably got spinning around your head."
Pressing her hand to her neck, which had started to throb with the tension, Alessa sat up. “I’m- I’m not sure…” She sent Ellis a pleading glance and he just nodded.
“I’ll leave you alone. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.” He tried not to sound hurt, but his feelings were evident in his voice. He nodded again and stood up. “I’ll call you later.”
“Yes, please do,” Alessa said in a whisper. She looked at Chance’s face and back to Ellis, “Thanks.”
As Ellis made his way out, Chance sat down on the couch next to Alessa. He grinned at her, then looked away and got back up again. For a few moments he wandered around the room, as if collecting his thoughts, then looked back to Alessa with an open expression and held his arms open at his sides. "Well," he said, after a deep breath, "where do you want me to begin?"
Alessa swallowed the lump in her throat. She was inspecting him as if he were some kind of nature wonder, he looked so… perfect. He was alive. It was incredible, after all these months, after all that’d happened… The demoness closed her eyes, and coughed to clear her voice.
“What happened? How come you are alive?” Her eyes misted and she breathed in. “Why did you leave me?”
"Ouch." Chance winced, putting one hand over his heart in a mock gesture of pain. "Straight to the point, as ever." Coming back over to the couch, he sat down next to Alessa again and rested one arm on her shoulder. "I am sorry. Truly. Sorry like I never have been in my life - my very long life. I can't even begin to imagine what you went through; the pain, the loneliness, the questions, but it’s haunted my dreams since, well, since I left." His hand dropped and he brought both together in his lap, clenched. "I've spent just as long trying to think of ways to make it up to you even though I can't. All I can do is apologise and answer for myself as best as possible."
Alessa looked down at their entwined hands. Chance’s felt warm to the touch, strong, familiar… as it always had. She gave it a small squeeze, as if to test its reality, and he squeezed back, bringing his other hand to rest upon hers. Her gaze rose to his face, he was smiling tenderly at her with those well-known – well-loved – eyes. She let go of his hands as if burnt and got up, fighting a wave of dizziness as she went. And walked some steps away.
What was happening? How could this be happening? Chance was there. And yet she didn’t know how she felt... He was dead, he was supposed to be dead… and yet he was there. He was alive... Well, that was a place to start. As good as any, and less confusing than many.
“How come you are alive?” she asked again, turning to watch him again.
Sitting back in the couch, Chance let out a long breath as if steeling himself for a plunge into icy water. "Well, actually, that's sort of why I'm here." Before Alessa could say a word, he held up a hand to stop her. "No, no, don't think of it like that. Of course I'm here to see you but... I said I wouldn't be able to tell you everything."
“What do you mean?” Alessa’s eyes flashed, and she threw back her hair, ignoring the pain in her neck. She smiled coldly, she couldn’t understand herself, this need to lash at him. “I’m just asking why you left me when I needed you most. Why you made everybody believe you were dead.”
A thought passed through her mind and she frowned. “Does Cole think you are dead as well? Or was he lying to me too?”
Chance sat up and looked at her sternly. "Don't ever think that I chose to leave you. I had no choice..." Sinking back down again he pursed his lips. This was going nowhere - in fact, it was starting to go round in circles. He might as well tell her. "Well, at least, I don't think I did anyway. Maybe Cole will be able to answer some questions for me because I honestly don't know."
Looking back up again, Chance looked Alessa in the eye. "And that's the problem, Alessa. I don't remember any of it. I can remember being here and leaving for Jerusalem and then... nothing. The next thing I know, I wake up in a back alley in the middle of Madrid."
“And yet there are things you cannot tell me?” she pressed. She didn’t like the sound of her voice, she sounded bitchy, but she couldn’t contain herself.
"That's just it." Chance answered back, his own voice sounding exasperated. "I can't tell you about those things because I myself don't remember them. Whatever happened to me, where I went, what I did, I don't know..." In frustrated anger he rose to his feet and paced a little, then stopped and took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry, but you have to understand how frustrating this is for this is for me - especially after last time. I... I sometimes get flashes of things. Usually in dreams. Most of the time its only faces, names..." His voice trailed off to a whisper and his eyes fell away to the carpet. "But there is one thing I keep seeing again and again."
Alessa’s stern stance softened at his words. How could she not understand? She knew perfectly well how frustrating not remembering was. Doubting, she stepped ahead, not daring to get too close to him yet longing to wipe the sorrowful expression off his face.
“What- what is it?” she asked, softly.
"The sword..." Chance whispered, still looking down, then looked up sharply with fear in his eyes. "Dray'chen's sword."
She took a step backwards, the hand she had stretched out to him dropping like a stone. She opened her mouth, but words were difficult to utter. “The sword?” she asked at last, her voice shallow.
"Yup, that bastard demon's little pet." Chance confirmed with a sigh. "I don't know why but it’s got to have something to do with it, right?" There was almost a pleading look in his eye, as if he was trying to convince himself. It only lasted a moment and then he shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Hopefully all I have to do is destroy it and rid the world of it forever. That is, if I knew where it was. I don't suppose you could help me there, could you?"
The demoness shook her head, anger rising in her again. *The sword?* After all that had happened he was thinking about the sword? Was that device of evil getting into their lives again? *Their lives?*
“What about me? What about us?” she blurted, not even wanting to think about that devil sword.
A look came across Chance as if he had just woken from a dream and he shook his head. "Of course, of course. I'm sorry, I'm going about this all wrong." He stepped forward and took both her hands in his. "Look, I'm pretty sure the sword has something to do with whatever happened, but the fact of the matter is that's not important. If I find it, then I find it and destroy it. If not, then I carry on living in blessed ignorance. I'm not the same person I was before; I have no burning desire to run out and remember what I've forgotten. I'm back and that's what counts. Back with you. And this time, I'm not going anywhere. That I can promise you." Letting go of one of her hands, Chance reached up to brush back Alessa's hair and caressed her cheek. "It's us that's important now. You and me."
His touch was so well-known, so familiar, and nonetheless somehow it felt odd. Obediently she raised her face to his and stared into his clear blue eyes, Chance leaned to her, a kiss on its way. She inhaled deeply into his warm breath, his scent filling her, and closed her eyes, trying to capture the moment. *I was making love to Ellis not an hour ago.* The thought came out of nowhere and she straightened, but Chance’s arms were already pressing her to his body, and his mouth was kissing her.
Chance felt Alessa tense, but as the kiss grew she gradually relaxed and melted into his arms. Time fell away. At last, the kiss broke and they both pulled back. Chance looked away, and when he looked back there was sorrow in his eyes again. He scratched the back of his head bashfully. "I- I'm sorry. I probably shouldn't have done that. I mean, you're probably feeling a little confused and shocked and everything, and here I am right out of the blue..."
*Confused? I was making love to Ellis not an hour ago. I told him I loved him not an hour ago! And I meant it.* Alessa reddened and brushed her hair back again to hide her embarrassment.
“No. I’m sorry too. This is strange.” She inhaled deeply and smiled up at him. “Things are different now. We are different now… I don’t think we should rush things.”
"No, no, not at all." Chance gave his lopsided grin, doing his best to comfort her. "Let's just take it slow." He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "I guess I'm going to have to get used to these re-introductions, huh?"
“I guess.” Alessa smiled warmly at him. He was Chance. She couldn’t feel uncomfortable with Chance. “But you’ll manage. Nobody could ever say you weren’t an adaptable man.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
25 July 2007
Nikolai's Condo
4:12am
The Russian sat in the sun room in silence, as Tolstoy napped on the chair. Nikolai's chest rose with the steady, simple breathing, with his eyes shut most of the way. Though his bones ached, what had now been years of practice from his perspective allowed him, while sitting, to allow the dull ache without reaction to it.
Vard-Lokkar had come to check on the meditating Russian, but he greeted the Artificer's arrival with the same non-reaction as before. “I take it that the deed is finally done?” he had asked, waiting for an answer. Then a few minutes later, “Forgive me; we can discuss this later,” before leaving, recognising the tell-tale signs that Nikolai was once again sitting Za-Zen.
Memories of their first lunch together surfaced, when neither knew the history of the other, and each attempted to spin tales which would explain either former or present occupations. A mutual deception, which was eventually exposed. Even his near-freman appearance on that world to which her spirit was now returning.
His friend was now truly dead...
...and he had been the one to offer her that final release.
Death.
There were stories of vampires who had their souls restored to them, though they were few and far between. Only a single vampire came close to mastering his nature: one who was at the Temple, and took the name of Seneca, declared that he would return when he had learned how to master the demon's nature, rather than the nature have mastery over him. He had been there so long that he had forgotten what Earth looked like.
Tash may have died once, twice, or not at all. But still the fact remained that he had been the one to bring an end to it.
There, sitting Za-Zen, he found the courage to do at last the most human of all reactions to this: he wept. For the loss of a close friend; for the entire sad affair; and out of relief that it was at last over.
It was not for twenty minutes that he at last finished, and regained his composure, before bowing slightly; a ritual done at the end of every meditation session. Slowly, he opened his eyes to find his new guest waiting there for him. “Do you know how your other companions are taking it?” asked Vard, with a hint of genuine concern.
“They will heal from the loss in time,” Nikolai replied, standing slowly. Between the battle and what healing could be done after battle, and now long meditation, he added stiffness to the pain. Now that it was over, he knew that they could all move on. At least the others had been spared having to do it. “I wonder if they will be able to look at me for ending her existence.”
“You only did what had to be done, and what... Natalya, I believe it was? What she would have wanted.”
“That is not what worries me,” Nikolai noted. “They regard a vampire as a demon, not the same person; at best, a warping of the soul contained within.”
“And what do you think, Kolya?”
He paused for a moment in thought. Just what did think? There was only one answer that he could give. “I think it doesn't matter,” he began after several minutes. “Whether part of the person persists, or the demon is influenced by the former soul... still, we see part of the same person. It makes little difference to us if it is a vampire or a human whose mind has been warped beyond recognition. We look upon the form of the person, and still see some of that old friend there . . . and with the death of the form, even if we can never get that person back, we lay them aside forever.”
Vard studied Nikolai's face carefully, seeing the seriousness with which he meant it. His time at the Temple had served him well in many ways. Now he spoke more like some of the masters there when it came to things like that, even if they might sometimes give odd answers. “In other words, you aren't sure.”
“No.” Nikolai sighed, turning his thoughts to his companions. Going there with a purpose was one thing; carrying it out another; and still another to be the one to carry out the deed. “I have to get some sleep now. We can continue our discussions later.”
Vard nodded. “Very well. You've earned it. What matters one more day before beginning your study more directly?”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 25th 4:53 am
Kyle twisted the lock, stubbing out his cigarette on the door frame, and pushed his way into Darian's apartment. He stepped over to the couch, thinking of grabbing a bit of shut eye, but he was stopped by a noise from the bathroom.
It sounded like someone was throwing up.
The Kaoshian paused and decided whether or not to ignore it. After a moment he decided on the latter. Making his way over to the door Kyle knocked twice. He got no answer other than more sounds of somebody puking. Again hesitating a moment on whether to go away or not, he once more went for door number two. "Um, Darian? Darian, is that you?"
“Kyle?”
The kasoshian barely heard the response from the other side of the door before he decided to push it open.
Darian was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his face was wet, glistening from a mixture of sweat and water. Most notably however were the large black circles under his puffy eyes….had he been crying?
“You’re back,” the fae said weakly, forcing a smile on his face.
"Uhhh..." Kyle stammered, temporarily speechless. Darian looked a mess. He didn't know quite what to say or what to do so just stood staring for a short while. Say something, you moron! He yelled at himself and managed to spur himself into action and taking several hesitant steps forward. "Darian, are you alright? What happened?" After only a few, though, Kyle paused unsure what he should do.
Darian remained silent; how could he answer if he wasn’t sure himself? These….outbursts he had, he hadn’t experienced one in almost two years now. He remembered the last one vaguely. It was in the fortune-tellers house back when he first arrived in LA. Luckily for that seer, a man named Terrence Fate was there to stop him from doing anything rash…but the mood swings stopped soon after that, when he met Tash and the other White Hats.
*I thought I finally had it under control* His only relapse was when Dathan released Evexus totally, but that wasn’t his fault. Now, however the man was no longer sure of his self control.
“You…you know Kyle…” he paused for a second, closing his eyes as he fought the urge to vomit. When he continued on, his voice was trembling slightly. “You know I would never intentionally hurt you right? I lost it before, I never meant to…”
That brought Kyle up short. He considered the fae carefully. The man didn't look dangerous - but then again, he never did, and Kyle knew for a fact Darian was pretty powerful. And if he 'lost it' once.... "Alright, Darian, you're not scaring me but...what the hell is going on?"
“I just…..,” he paused, considering his words. “The whole Tash-vampire thing, it fucked me up a little.” What Darian was saying wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth. Deep down the man knew what had happened but he couldn’t admit it to himself let alone say it aloud to Kyle. *No, with everything that had happened the White Hats didn’t need something else to worry about*.
"Well...uh...ok, Darian, I guess." Kyle said at length, rubbing the back of his beck. From looking at Darian he was pretty sure it was more than that. Something else was up. But Kyle didn't want to press. For a start, he figured Darian'd say something when he was ready, and secondly Kyle was uncomfortable enough without making things harder. No, lets just play it safe. If its serious I'm sure Darian will say something, right? One thing was certain - if their roles were reversed, Kyle wouldn't want himself prying into his business. "You, um, want anything? Want me to go call someone...?"
Shaking his head slightly, Darian couldn’t help but be amazed. Was Kyle actually showing a soft side…or at least softer side? *Things really are pretty messed up* he mused.
“My stomach is just churning, but ill be fine. How about you?” he asked before the kaoshian could turn to leave. “How you holding up after all this?”
Moving over to the door frame where he rested against it with arms folded, Kyle gave Darian a look that suggested he didn't believe a word of it but wasn't going to make a big deal out of it. In reality, it was just an attempt to buy some time. What Kyle was really thinking about was Darian's question. How am I holding up after all this? Get this: I feel pretty good. But the cost was Tash's life. Kyle looked away, rubbed his nose, then looked back. "You know me. I'll struggle on somehow."
The fae gave Kyle another weak smile. He didn’t doubt the kid’s words for a second. Kyle would be ok because he was strong, stronger than he himself probably knew.
Of course Tash was strong also, before….
“When you go out hunting,” he said finally, getting to his feet and making his way down the hall with the demon “Be careful, ok?”
Madmen and Asian Chicks...
Porfirio Diaz
July 24. 11:48 in the PM
Dramatis Personae: Adam (Head Madman), Zen (Pet Raven), Rae (Cute Asian Newschick with Giger tattoos)
Back to live action. Well, not really, but close enough due to him being out of BeastVision and IN THE MOMENT. Rae Matsushida, the newschick, had gotten herself a Pissed Siberian and could still talk clearly. It was a fuckin' miracle. She was asking about his duties as bartender, which he put down as mostly drinking and philosophizing. She nodded and pretended to understand. Then she asked about the gun under his T-shirt. She'd started talkin' about how she'd always wanted to do something else, so Adam had inducted her into the League, which was slowly becoming an official group. The two of them walked out to his Ferrari, left a cameraman tending the bar, and drove off so he could show her what the words 'drive in movie-style execution of slack-jaws' meant. And yes, he had said those to her face. Hell, she was game. On things went.
Calm Before the Storm
Kate and Galen’s House
Wednesday, 25th July 2007
3:39pm
Galen yawned.
A warm sense of relaxation uncurled itself throughout his entire body from the hair follicles on his scalp to the very tips of his toes. He stretched and glanced at the bedside clock, noticing that it was almost four in the afternoon. Galen yawned again. Okay so it was an obscene time to be only just waking up at but the truth was that the events of last night had taken their toll on both of them, not to mention the hours they had spent in each other’s arms consoling one another.
“You’re awake,” said Kate from over by the window. She smiled warmly as Galen sat up, and hugged the bedsheet that she held around her naked body a little tighter. Galen sighed contentedly and reached for his robe, pulling it on and climbing out of bed to join his wife.
Resting a hand on the cool bare flesh of her shoulder, he felt that familiar warm sensation of comfort uncurl low down in his abdomen. Galen hadn’t realised until last night just how much he had missed Kate’s lovemaking, despite the fact that it had only been less than a week since they had last slept together. But it wasn’t just the sex, he had missed so much more, her tenderness and warmth and affection. More than anything he’d missed her smile.
Galen leaned in close and was about to kiss the side of Kate’s throat when he noticed those two unmistakable bite marks. He hesitated for a moment and then kissed her anyway, his lips gently caressing the tender flesh.
“Last night…” he began quietly.
Kate turned around slowly and smiled again, taking Galen’s hand and sitting down on the window seat. “Last night was lovely,” she finished.
Absently, she touched her neck, brushing her fingers against the sensitive bite marks that were now a part of Tash’s legacy – if something could have been said to have survived of Tash after she was made a vampire that was. Kate sighed, and instead chose to remember the beautiful night she had spent with her husband, and how comfortable he had made her feel with his leisurely and unhurried lovemaking. She had expected to feel at least some measure of apprehension, the details of her assault were still so vivid and fresh in her memory that sometimes she could still smell Tony’s musky aftershave on her skin or feel the pain of his invasion between her legs. But despite all that, Kate had felt remarkably serene in Galen’s arms last night, and if she had trembled at all it had been out of desire or pleasure rather than fear.
“It was perfect,” she added with another smile, squeezing her husband’s fingers gently inside her hand.
Galen sighed with relief; “I was so worried…”
Kate nodded. “I know.”
“-I just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I know,” repeated Kate, her voice soft and understanding. Gently she reached out and parted Galen’s hair to one side, running her fingers slowly through his shortened locks. “You could never hurt me.”
Galen smiled, brushing his own fingers through Kate’s hair and tucking it behind her ear. “I hope not.”
His hand resting on her cheek, he drew her towards himself and kissed her softly on the lips. At Kate’s quiet moan, Galen felt his body tighten and he quickly pulled away.
“Sorry,” he muttered reflexively, securing the belt of his robe in a way that suggested he could rein himself in with such a small gesture. He knew that such an obvious rush of sexual excitement could not have gone unnoticed by his wife, what was more, he felt guilty that he couldn’t control himself better.
“Don’t be,” said Kate softly, taking the belt in her hands and loosening it again. “I enjoyed last night, Galen so just relax,” she smiled playfully, sliding a hand up his bare chest and around to the back of his neck where she stroked him gently. “Or let me help you relax if you like.”
Galen chuckled slightly, snatching up Kate’s hand in his and pulling her closer. “I think I’d like that.”
Kate smiled and gently pushed Galen back on the window seat. It was long enough for him to lie down on, though not particularly wide. Kate climbed on top of him, the bedsheet slipping slightly as she made herself comfortable. Loosening Galen’s robe some more she leaned low, pressing her lips against his throat, rolling the tip of her tongue along it, feeling him swallow. Kate smiled to herself as she felt him groan quietly and clutch hold of her hips, gently moving her back and forth against himself and creating more of that delicious friction that made him groan even louder.
Kate laughed and sat up, stretching her back. “You realise that Mrs Carter would probably have a stroke if she walked past our window right now?”
“What, dragging her little dog Tutu away so he doesn’t get corrupted while making the sign of the cross? I think we could kiss our invitation to her infamous Orchid Growers of LA garden parties goodbye.”
Kate laughed again and glanced out the window as though expecting the elderly octogenarian to be out there already, taking her tiny Chihuahua, Tutu for a late afternoon stroll. Instead she saw the car that she’d noticed earlier, a red Volkswagen convertible– it wasn’t the type of car you forgot, even in LA, and Kate had thought that it looked familiar the first time she’d spotted it. Now the driver was outside, leaning against the hood. Was it really…
*Alessa?*
“Kate? Where are you going?” asked Galen in disbelief as she hastily climbed off him and started getting dressed, pulling her nightdress on over her head. “Oh I get it, this is a game, like sex in reverse. You put all your clothes back on and later we pretend we don’t even know each other.”
Kate smiled, fastening her matching cotton robe around her waist. She knelt by her husband’s side as he continued to lie on the window seat and captured his face in her hands, kissing him with promise. “I won’t be long just… hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”
Galen sat up, listening to her footsteps on the staircase. “But… where are you going?”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Outside Kate and Galen’s House
Wednesday, 25th July 2007
4:09pm
Alessa sat on her Volkswagen. She had been there, parked outside Kate’s house, for a little while now – well, maybe a long while. She didn’t really know. Too much was passing through her mind, and she had really lost track of time. Could it be afternoon already? Alessa looked up at the sky, and yes, the sun had already started to low. She checked her watch; it was past four, incredible.
She sighed. What was she doing here anyway? Parked outside her friend’s house. As if Kate didn’t have enough problems, hadn’t had enough problems in the past few days. She sighed again and rested her forearms on the steering wheel, her head sinking. She couldn’t bring more drama to her life, it wasn’t fair. But then… this wasn’t fair either. Life wasn’t fair. Lady Luck, as Chance had liked to say, wasn’t fair.
*Oh! Stop this!* she chastised herself, *you sound as if you didn’t want him back!* How could she be so callous? He was Chance! Her lover, her love. And he was back, back with her. *But why now? Why now that my life is making sense again? Now that I found Ellis…*
She grimaced. She had promised him she’d call. She didn’t want to ponder on what he could be thinking, assuming… but she couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not while being so confused. He’d be wanting answers, wanting to know how he stood in relation to her. And she couldn’t answer him. Not yet.
She looked at Kate’s house again. Of all her friends, Kate was the one she felt closer to. And she knew all about Ellis, she’d known from the beginning. But she couldn’t bother her now with this. After tonight, Kate was probably still mourning Tash… no she couldn’t. Shaking her head, Alessa started her car. She’d face this alone.
It was with the roar of the engine that Kate opened the front door and stepped outside. There was a coolness in the afternoon air that easily penetrated the thin cotton of her nightdress and robe, and Kate wrapped her arms around herself to try and preserve some of her warmth.
Alessa had abandoned the position she had seen her in through the bedroom window, leaning against the car and looking almost lost to the world around her. She was now sat inside with her hands poised on the steering wheel. Kate hesitated a moment, but just a moment, then she walked down the pathway towards the demoness, squinting as the late afternoon sun caught her eyes.
"Alessa?" she said softly, leaning into the car. "Are you alright? Won't you come inside?"
Kate’s voice startled her, and she looked at the witch with round eyes. She hadn’t thought the woman could have seen it. “Kate? I’m sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Kate opened the car door. "Come on, come inside Alessa. You're in no fit state to drive."
“Yes, bueno…” Alessa looked at Kate’s warm smile and nodded. “I may as well enter.” *This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?* she told herself, *someone to talk with...* Obediently, she got out of the car and followed the witch into her cosy house. Kate kept turning to her, her face full of concern, as if to check she wouldn’t run away or collapse in her hallway - and she felt ashamed.
It wasn’t a dire event that had brought her there that evening, on the contrary. One of the best men she’d ever known had come back – a loving, strong, intelligent man. It was a joyous day. A great day. Alessa took a deep breath and smiled, strengthening her shoulders. “I'm sorry, Kate. Please, don’t be so concerned, she said. “Nothing wrong has happened.”
Kate waited until they were comfortably sat at the kitchen table, with a kettle set to boil on the stove for tea.
"So..." she said thoughtfully, "something... good has happened then? I must say Alessa, if this how you react to good news I'd hate to see your 'bad news' face."
The demoness chuckled. “You’re right, it’s just that-” she shifted in her chair, afraid of what Kate might think when she learned what the ‘good news’ was. She took a deep breath, she’d better just tell her and be done with it. “This morning, when we were leaving the house, well, you see- I opened the door and he was there. Chance. Chance was there.”
Of all the responses that Kate was expecting that was probably the last thing she could have ever expected – and it showed. She was silent for what seemed like a long time, a hand clasped across her mouth as though she were afraid of what she might say.
“Chance?” she repeated in absolute bewilderment. “Your Chance - terribly good-looking in a rugged, rough around the edges sort of way?” At Alessa’s nod Kate rose to her feet, inhaling sharply and clamping her hand over her mouth again as a confused frown wrinkled her forehead.
“But… h-how could that be? I thought that he… I mean, I though he’d… It’s so… Well it’s… are you sure?” she asked eventually, “I mean that it really, really was him. Not some kind of apparition or, or, I don’t know… a shapeshifter or something!”
Alessa frowned. She hadn’t considered that, actually. “He’s certainly not an apparition,” she answered thoughtfully, blushing at the memory of the kiss they’d shared. “A shapeshifter? I don’t know, really… well, he wasn’t a Verbati, that’s for sure. I’d have smelt him… and he smelt like Chance. Now, of course, if it was another kind of shapeshifter, he could have replicated that too, right? But I don’t think so-“ she stopped, noticing she was rambling, and blushed again. “I really don’t know, Kate. But he looked like the real Chance.”
Kate sat back down and sighed, reaching across the table to take Alessa’s hand. She was trembling slightly and was obviously in a lot of distress about this entire thing whether it really was Chance who had come back to her or not. She sensed something else too and could only guess at what it meant.
“You saw him this morning?” Kate held back another sigh; the universe certainly had excellent timing. Only last night had the last remnant of Tash’s immortal soul been set free and now… now there was a very good possibility that Chance… someone whom they had thought lost forever had returned.
“I guess you’ve not really had… well time to think about everything,” Kate said eventually, “are you okay?”
Alessa shook her head. “I don’t know.” Averting her eyes she continued, but her voice sounded hollow. “I mean, I’m okay. Chance is back and that’s wonderful. He’s a great man, it’s great he came back.” But she wasn’t feeling great, she realised. She should be feeling wonderful too. She should be elated, not pondering about timing! She felt herself lacking, wrong.
Kate smiled softly, suddenly realising what that other emotion she had been sensing before had been… guilt. Alessa felt guilty, and Kate was pretty sure she knew why. She squeezed her hand around the demoness’ a little more firmly.
“This is about Ellis, isn’t it? Tell me if it’s none of my business and I don’t mean to pry it’s just… well, I know the two of you have been getting rather… close, recently. You’re afraid of what Chance coming back means for you and Ellis… for the feelings you have for him.”
A sob escaped Alessa’s lips, and she leant on her hands, hiding her face. “We finally got together last night. I don’t know, seeing him close to his death, almost dying myself – and Tash… Tash going from us like that… well, it made me realise about life, how frail we were- and -and how much I love him.”
The last words coming out almost a whisper, Alessa sobbed again. “I should have waited longer, I shouldn’t have told him I loved him. Not so soon. How much time? Since Chance died? A few months only. I should have waited.”
She threw back her hair, watching Kate with tears in her eyes. “Chance is back, and all I can think about is about me.”
“Hey,” said Kate softly, rising from her chair and going to Alessa’s side. She enveloped the other woman in her arms and held her close, rubbing her back soothingly. “None of that, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about, you hear me? Nothing”
Kate stayed with her arms around Alessa for a little longer before pulling away gently. “Remember you’ve grieved for Chance, you had no way of knowing that he was alive. How could you have known? And as for Ellis… you hardly rushed into things there. You waited until you were ready to move on, there’s no rulebook for how long that should be.”
“Igual!” Alessa exclaimed, disentangling from Kate’s embrace and getting up from the chair. She walked a few steps to the window overlooking Kate’s garden and just stared out, thinking about her friend’s words. She had grieved Chance, of course, but it had been so mingled with Hyde and its distortion that she couldn’t really think of that time as grieving. And then she had rushed into Ellis’ arms, and Stuart ... she didn’t even count Delancre in that list. Of course, she had been infected, but was that a real excuse? *Stop being silly! Of course it is! Don’t turn things to your advantage – you were infected!*
Kate was right. She had waited, it seemed forever, before surrendering to her feelings for Ellis. But in reality, it wasn’t that much. Only a few months, when was it Chance had supposedly died?
“When was it, just February?” Alessa sighed, “it seems so far away!”
“It does,” said Kate sadly, thinking of how her own life had been back in February, with Emma and all their friends… before any of this evil with Delancre had even taken place.
“But that has no bearing on your feelings. Would things be better if you were to mourn for years? There would still have been no promise that Chance would come back and Ellis… well, Ellis is a good man too.”
Kate rose from her chair at the shrill whistling of the kettle as the water reached boiling point, and removed it from the stove. “Does he know about Chance yet?”
Alessa nodded again, blushing a little before answering. “We were together this morning. When he came.”
Kate was quiet for a moment as she put the tea into the pot and added the hot water, but her mind was still sorting through everything that Alessa had told her. How could it be that Chance had returned after all this time? Had he never really died in Israel or had he been brought back from the dead? Kate had always thought that such feats of Necromancy never really worked – well until Marcus Dalton had proven otherwise. But even so, if Chance had been brought back from the dead, would he still be the same? Or some dark perversion of his former self?
Leaving the tea to brew, Kate sat back down at the table opposite Alessa. “So what did Ellis think about all this? How’s he taking it I mean?”
“I don’t know, I said I’d call, but I couldn’t.” Alessa seemed to diminish in front of Kate’s eyes “He didn’t look very happy though; he has... issues with Chance – never quite forgave him for what happened to his parents.” And that was true, she knew that on a rational level Ellis couldn’t blame him for his mother’s death, or Ernie’s coma, but that didn’t help matters, anyway.
“Of course,” said Kate gently, she’d almost forgotten that it had been Dray’chen to blame for the death of Ernest Longwood and his wife and that, although it hadn’t technically been Chance’s fault it had been his face that had gained him access into their home in the first place. Kate could easily understand why such a thing would create issues for Ellis. Chance had effectively made him an orphan and now he might, quite simply, steal away the woman he loved just as they’d decided to give their relationship a go.
Kate crossed her legs and leaned forward against the table, drumming her fingers on the smooth pine surface thoughtfully. “Give yourself time, Alessa. I don’t think this is something that you should make any decisions about over night. Did… Chance, did he even say how he’d come back? Why he was here?”
With some difficulty, Alessa forced herself to think about Kate’s question. “He said he doesn’t know what happened in Israel, that he woke up in Madrid a few days ago, with no memory whatsoever.” She chuckled, humourlessly. “Amnesia! It’d be funny if it weren’t so sad.”
“Yeah… very ‘Days of Our Lives’ I’m sure,” smiled Kate wistfully, tracing patterns on the table with her index finger. *Amnesia… very convenient…* Kate knew she shouldn’t be so suspicious but she just couldn’t help it, there were so many things here that just didn’t add up, and the last thing she wanted was for Alessa to get hurt again just as she was beginning to rebuild her life.
“He didn’t… say anything else then? No other explanations?”
“Mmm, no… he mentioned something about the sword though,” she said, grimacing. “Dray’chen’s sword. He thinks it has something to do with what happened to him.”
“And then we talked about us.” She rushed on, talking quickly as if by doing so things could change. “And he kissed me, and it felt good, but- I don’t know Kate, I know I have time, but it seems that whatever I do, it’ll be wrong.” *Whatever I do, I’ll hurt somebody.*
Kate sighed, of course she could see Alessa’s dilemma, she loved two different people – or had feelings for them both at least, that kind of situation was always difficult and invariably someone always got hurt in the crossfire..
“Chance is still in love with you then? Hardly surprising…” Kate smiled softly, “I think, inside you know what you have to do. Talk with Ellis, talk with Chance and decide what’s in your heart. I really think that’s the only way.”
“Well, he didn’t say he still loved me...” Alessa reddened. “But I guess you’re right.”
“Maldición Everything seemed so clear last night! But that’s our life, verdad?”
“I guess so,” said Kate as she rose from her seat again to get the tea, “but then, you’ve had considerably longer to get used to it than I have. So I guess I’m screwed!”
“Humph, longer doesn’t mean better. Only more time for new surprises.” She cocked her head, “you should think a ninety-year-old should know better than get cornered like this, huh?”
Kate smiled, turning to Alessa. “Perhaps not better, but I guess I figured you’d grow accustomed to these little ’surprises’ after a while. Though I have to admit, I never have.”
Upstairs, Galen was growing… restless. He could have sworn he’d heard voices and someone at the door, but everything had gone quiet since. With a sigh he decided to find out what was going on. Descending the staircase he still couldn’t hear anything and guessed that Kate had perhaps sensed someone before they’d even had chance to knock.
As he entered the kitchen he saw his wife standing at the stove with her back to him as she made a pot of tea. He noticed the two cups waiting on the tray and smiled, however he failed to notice Alessa sitting at the kitchen table in the breakfast alcove just by the side of the door. Silently, he made his way towards Kate and, when he was close enough, he grabbed her from behind making her squeal in surprise.
"Is this what you’ve been up to all this time?" he growled playfully, wrapping his arms low around her waist. “Making tea while I’ve been upstairs waiting for you, all cold and lonely…”
Kate tried to say something but Galen caught her off guard again as he reached up to feel her left breast. She gasped and quickly pulled his hand away.
"Don’t say anything,” he interrupted, sliding his hands back around her waist. “I've got something for you…” he groaned as he rubbed his stiffened groin against her behind, “can you guess what it is?"
“Am I allowed to guess?” Alessa tried to stifle a grin unsuccessfully, her smile widening as Kate’s husband turned around to face her. “Hi Galen.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 25th, 2007
6:22 pm
The familiar door to Poplar’s building looked foreboding as Alessa looked up to it. She had left Kate not long ago, and had been driving around again, though more clear-headed this time. As usual, Kate had helped her put things in perspective, and she felt much better.
However, it had also brought new questions, or at least let her think past her ‘loving’ dilemma. How come Chance had come back from the death? Was it even possibly? She realized now that she had never really asked about what had happened in Israel. She had been hurting too much, knowing he was dead had been enough. Well, she needed to know now, and the better person to ask was Darian.
Alessa straightened her shoulders and rang his bell. She wasn’t looking forward to this meeting, she felt guilty about her previous feelings towards the fae and that made her be uncomfortable around him. But whatever. She’d talk to him.
With a static buzz, the door unlocked allowing the demoness in.
“The door’s open Alessa,” she heard Darian call out as she ascended the stares to the 2nd floor.
When she stepped into his apartment the pleasant smell of something baking tickled her nostrils.
“Sorry about the mess,” the fae said smiling, he hurried to wipe batter from the countertop. “I’ve been trying to bake a dessert for tonight, but its not as easy as this book makes it seem.” Chuckling slightly, he closed the cook book and turned his full attention to Alessa.
“So what can I do for you this evening?”
“Here, clean yourself too. You look like the gingerbread man.” She waited till he erased some of the white from him, before going on. “I’m sorry to bother you, Darian, at this hour, but I have something to ask you.”
At his expectant look she spoke again. “After all this thing with Tash… I, well, I started to wonder about Chance. About how he died…”
She lowered her eyes, and hoped her nerves didn’t show too much. She had thought a lot about what she was going to say, and even if she didn’t like too much her present course of action she was decided. Chance was alive. Somehow ends didn’t tie. He couldn’t be alive if he had died. People didn’t return from the death simply like that. Either he had been resurrected by some kind of necromancer, in which case she thought she’d notice, or he hadn’t died in the first place. She needed to know.
Darian’s smile faded from his face; the question had caught him completely off guard.
Alessa fidgeted nervously as she waited for the fae to reply.
“What is it going to give for me to go into details about how he….died,” he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Had Darian paused before saying Chance had died? Maybe there was something more to the story than meets the eye.
Putting on the best poutty face she could, she looked Darian in the eyes pleadingly. “I need to know Darian, please…”
“Ok ok fine,” he said turning his back to her as he pretended to check on the oven. “It was during the fight with the Titan. Pandora was weakened from trying to close the dimensional rift, and I was doing my best from keeping the lackeys from screwing things up. Cole wasn’t practicing back then, so he was just doing what he could to stay alive, and Chance…”
This is where Darian debated…he knew Chance didn’t really die that day, but the man had made him promise not to reveal that to anyone, especially Alessa.
“Chance, he knocked the Titan back through the portal, but died in doing so, and the portal swallowed him up before I could do anything.”
“But are you sure? I mean, did you see him actually die?” Because if he hadn’t seen him die, maybe he’d just been drawn into the portal… that could be what had happened. Alessa didn’t know, but hope showed plainly in her face.
“He’s dead,” Darian said with finality, not wanting to continue on with this conversation. No good could come of him telling the truth, and after everything that happened he did not wish to cause Alessa anymore stress or anguish.
Alessa’s head snapped up, and she looked strangely at the fae. She frowned. The feeling that he was lying had passed through her mind with such certainty that it had almost dazed her. And now that she looked at him. He looked edgy too. She was edgy, but she was lying. Why was Darian nervous?
“Then how come he appeared this morning at my door, Darian?” she asked, without really thinking. “Alive and kicking?”
“What?”
It was the only response Darian could think of or muster. Chance was alive? Theoretically, it was possible, but it actually happening, that was something else.
He stared at Alessa for a long while, once again trying to think of something suitable to say. “You’re absolutely sure its him? Remember, Cole saw him when he tried to kill himself, but it was just a ghost, are you sure its actually…”
“He’s not a ghost,” Alessa cut him. She was getting tired of doubts, although it was completely logical that people doubted. She doubted as well, only… he had felt so real. “Nor is he a zombie, or any kind of undead or resurrected being. And he looked, sounded and smelt as the real Chance.”
Alessa rubbed her forehead. She was tired, it had been a hard day, especially after last night. Suddenly she felt very weak and had to sit down in one of Darian’s chairs around the table. “I know I'm not the best to say this, but… if it looks like a duck, acts like a duck and sounds like a duck… it’s usually a duck.”
“Or a Verbati,” Darian suggested, sitting down as well. “Or any other shapeshifter demon you can think of.”
“Sure, yeah. Whatever. Thing is, and please, think before you answer me.” Alessa looked intently at the fae in front of her. “Is there any possibility, at all, that Chance was alive when he passed that portal?”
Taking a deep breath, he locked eyes with the verbati. He had kept true to his word and not told a single soul, but if Chance was in fact back, there was no more point to keep the secret from her was there?
“Yes, more than a possibility. He was alive when he walked through.” He saw Alessa tensed up but he hurried on to explain. “Chance, he made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone he had survived. He didn’t want you to waste your time looking for him. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I had to keep my word to him.”
Alessa leant back on her chair and covered her mouth, her eyes round and tears blurring her sight. He had lied! He had told her he was dead, she had mourned him, cried over him… when she could have been looking for him! Trying to help him… and he… he had crossed that portal, leaving her behind – how could he? She had been already lost by then, in Delancre’s hands and yet… As thoughts crossed her mind, and emotions flooded her, Alessa lost control and her eyes changed colours mirroring her changing emotions. She was sad and frustrated, but most of all she was furious!
Her eyes finally staying a bright red, she sat upright, tension written in her body. “He crossed on his free will then? And told you to lie to me?”
“He had to do what was needed to save the world Alessa,” Darian said sympathetically, although Alessa was sure she could detect somewhat of a forceful tone to it as well. “and yes, he told me to lie to you because it was for your own good. There was no way to get him back. When Cole went bad, he tried, Alessa, but he finally realized even attempting to find him could cause irreversible damage to this world.”
“I’m getting tired of people deciding what’s best for me,” she said, angrily, and rose from her seat to pace. “And at that time, what was best for me was to be rescued from that goddam island!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, thinking of Chance as she had seen him this morning, with his lop-sided smile and his – how had Kate put him – ‘rugged, rough around the edges’ look. How much she had loved him! How could have left her like that?
“I’m sorry, Darian. I know it’s not your fault.” She said tensely at the fae who was watching her with worry in his purplish eyes. “You did as he told you, although some trust would have been welcomed, I’m not some fair damsel in distress…”
She rubbed her eyes again, “I guess Chance and I need to talk. A lot.”
Just Another Normal Day...
The Home of Kate and Galen Eldridge
Thursday, 26th July 2007
8:32am
It had seemed like just any other morning.
Jack had gone to work earlier than usual leaving Kate and Galen alone to eat breakfast. The radio played ‘Soulful Sounds of the Seventies’ to the accompanying noise of knives scraping against plates and cups clattering in their saucers. Kate ate whole-wheat toast with red plum jelly and herbal tea, while Galen had low sugar Froot Loops and black coffee.
Everything had been so very normal.
From her position outside number 70 Birch Street, Mrs Carter silently observed the arrival of a police patrol car whilst taking her Chihuahua, Tutu for his morning walk. Tugging on the thin red lead, she walked him further up the street, watching as the two young police officers walked up the drive to the Eldridge house on the opposite side of the road and knocked at the door.
Mrs Carter removed her spectacles from her cardigan pocket and slid them into place. She could see better now as the door opened and the pretty young redhead and her handsome husband appeared, their smiles melting away as they talked to their guests.
“Come on Tutu, good boy, do your business,” muttered Mrs Carter, giving the lead an absent tug without so much as breaking her gaze. The couple at number 67 looked so worried, she hoped they weren’t being given any bad news. Mrs Carter always thought that they seemed like such nice people… true, on occasion they made a bit too much noise for her liking and they didn’t always mow their lawn often enough or adhere to the rules about on-street parking. But all in all…
“What?” said Kate incredulously, her eyes opening wide with disbelief. “You can’t be serious…”
“Very serious I’m afraid, Ma’am,” said Officer Denton with a grimace, “I’ve been sent here to arrest you on suspicion of murder in the first degree and to read you your rights. You have the right to remain silent, if you give up that right anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during questioning-“
“This is a joke,” interrupted Galen, though his tone of voice was anything but amused, in fact it bordered on aggressive.
Denton continued. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?”
“Hey, hey, HEY!” shouted Galen in protest as Denton turned his wife around and fastened a pair of handcuffs about her wrists. “What the hell…!” he said angrily, following Denton and his back-up partner as they marched Kate out the door and towards the waiting patrol car. “You can do this! Murder? What… what murder are you talking about!?”
Denton helped Kate inside the car and shut the door behind her. She peered out the window in dismay, catching the curious eye of Mrs Carter across the road and sensing the curtains of all her neighbours twitching as they tried their hardest to discern what was going on without appearing too nosy.
Denton turned to face Galen with the same grim expression of apprehension and unease that he’d displayed on their doorstep. “Sir, I’m afraid, the murder of Officer Anthony Green.”
The morning suddenly became very far from normal.
Interrogation
Los Angeles Police Department
Thursday, 26th July 2007
10:11am
From the moment that Detective Euston first entered the interview room Kate knew that she was in for a tough time. The man couldn’t have been much older than her husband yet he looked as worn and world-weary as a pair of second-hand hiking boots. He had hair the colour of cigarette ash that still refused to lie neatly against his scalp no matter how much wax he used to plaster it in place and his eyes, though partially hidden behind thick lensed glasses, were wrinkled and the same grey colour as his hair. He bore the expression of a man who was severely sleep deprived, over worked and hadn’t been laid for possibly years.
Kate took a sip from her glass of water and crossed her legs nervously.
From the second that Detective Stanley Euston lowered his glasses down the pinched length of his nose and took his first proper look at the attractive young Mrs Eldridge, he’d known that she was guilty. He’d known women like her all his life, exceedingly pretty and willing to use every trick in the book to get what they wanted. Somewhere along the line she’d probably decided that marrying a police officer would be an advantageous move – but it wouldn’t allow her to get away with murder, of that Detective Euston was determined.
“Mrs… Eldridge,” he fairly sighed, lighting up a cigarette and billowing smoke out of his cavernous mouth like a chimney stack. He pressed the record button on the nearby tape recorder and cleared his throat. “Interview commencing at 10:12am, Thursday July the twenty-sixth. Present are myself, Detective Stanley Euston and Detective Rachel Grey.”
11:54am
Detective Euston tapped the end of his pencil against the Formica table, drumming out a less than tuneful staccato. He considered himself to be a good policeman, no wait, a damn good policeman, even if his methods were sometimes frowned upon as unorthodox. Most of all he liked the waiting game, watching his prey for signs of weakness and then, when they were least expecting it, hitting them with the money-making question. A question that would really topple their sense of security. Euston was looking for just such a question now.
“Hmmm, so…” he chewed on the end of his pencil for a moment before resuming his tapping. “How would you describe the nature of your relationship with Officer Green?”
Kate sighed. She was so tired of going over the same questions again and again. She could see now why people relented and just began telling the police what they wanted to hear. After almost two hours of questioning with barely ten minutes to herself in all that time she was about ready to crack herself. With visible annoyance she reached out and placed her hand across the detective’s pencil, finally silencing his incessant tapping.
“You mean… the fact that he was my husband’s partner? Or that he raped me last week?”
“Hmmm,” mumbled Euston again. He dropped the pencil with only a slight smile of triumph and leaned back into his chair, stretching his arms behind the back of his neck and at the same time displaying a particularly unattractive set of sweat stains. “Might I advise, Mrs Eldridge, that you start telling us the truth… that is unless you want to still be here at ten o’clock tonight.”
“And might I advise using a roll-on once in a blue moon,” muttered Kate under her breath.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
It was going to be a long day.
03:32pm
As though she hadn’t already been at breaking point, Kate was now ready to climb the walls. She fiddled with a discarded paper clip that she was certain had been left on the desk deliberately to tempt her. She bent the thin, pliable metal back and forth, twisting it out of shape and into something else… something other.
Hours ago, Detective Euston had wholly abandoned being annoying and switched to down right sadistic. It wasn’t that Kate couldn’t tell what he was doing… it was that she simply didn’t care any more. If he laid out traps for her, she would probably walk right into them.
“Come on Mrs Eldridge!” laughed Detective Euston, beating his fist down on the table so hard that he made Kate jump visibly. “It’s not like it would be the first time now would it? Everyone in this station knows how you had an affair several months ago.”
“It wasn’t an affair-”
Euston smiled wickedly. “-So you don’t consider it an affair to have sex with another man behind your husband’s back?”
“Of course I do, but it wasn’t like that!” declared Kate agitatedly, she dropped the paperclip and spread her hands out on the table to try to steady the shaking. “I- It was a difficult time, our daughter had just died… we were having marital problems. I got drunk and made a mistake. It was one night… a, a mistake! I don’t even know why you’re bringing all this up!”
“I’ll tell you why Mrs Eldridge,” said Detective Euston triumphantly. “It’s because we found items belonging to you in Mr Green’s apartment, very intimate items in fact, leading us to believe that there was more to your relationship than what you would have us believe. It is our belief that the two of you were engaged in an affair of a sexual nature, and that when you attempted to break it off Mr Green became angry, perhaps even enraged. The two of you fought and he threatened to tell your husband if you stopped seeing him-”
Kate turned away in disgust without answering, her shoulders sagging with obvious frustration. She picked up the twisted paperclip and started bending it around her little finger again.
“-I think you were desperate Mrs Eldridge, I think you and Mr Green engaged in sexual intercourse while you tried to find a way out and you did… Didn’t you? You knew that if your husband ever found out you’d had yet another affair, made a fool of him a SECOND time, he’d never take you back. He’d throw you out like a piece of trash and never look back. You couldn’t bare the thought of that happening and so in a moment of desperation you decided the only way out was to kill him and make it look like he’d attacked you.”
Kate could barely speak she was so overwhelmed, her throat felt thick, restricting her breathing. “How… how…” she leapt up from her seat, unable to control herself anymore in the face of such accusations. “This is disgusting! What about all the bruises?” she asked desperately, rolling up her sleeves and gesturing to her face and throat. “Why would I… Do you think I’d enjoy something like this? Is that it?”
Detective Euston shrugged, “some people do, it takes all sorts after all, and I’ve read your file… Your first husband abused you on a regular basis didn’t he? Beat you, raped you? And you stayed with him didn’t you? For almost two years…”
Kate shook her head again but it wasn’t a bewildered and doubtful action of confusion. It was that of a woman who felt the pain of the past pressing upon her once more. “Because I was afraid!” she shouted angrily, wiping frustrated tears from her eyes. “I didn’t enjoy being treated like that, I, I hated him! I just wanted him to let me go but, but he wouldn’t, he just wouldn’t let me go!”
“He died in suspicious circumstances too didn’t he?” said Euston, his own voiced raised, laced with suspicion. “Hung himself in your apartment… how very convenient for you that must have been. Strange that a man who was so desperate to keep you would suddenly decide to take his own life. Lucky, for you that he did. And now again with Officer Green… do you know what happens to cop killers, Mrs Eldridge?”
Kate opened her mouth to speak and then closed it, sharply. She was silent for almost five minutes before she spoke again. When she did her voice was beyond calm, it was almost empty and devoid of any sort of emotion despite the fact that unshed tears still filled her eyes.
“You don’t have anything do you? You don’t know how Tony died and so you want to try to pin it on me, get me to confess? I don’t know how any of my things ended up in that man’s apartment but I certainly wasn’t having any kind of affair with him. Have you thought that perhaps he stole them? Anthony was a very sick little boy after all.”
Detective Grey suddenly felt her back stiffen as the woman’s eyes fell on her. As the witch continued to stare at her, she felt as though she could read every thought in her head, uncover the secrets as easily as throwing back a blanket from a bed.
Grey had kept silent for the duration, wanting to observe the progression of the interview without influencing the outcome. Of course she had been the one to help Jennifer Lawson plant evidence of an affair in Mr Green’s apartment, not enough to secure a conviction on the girl but certainly enough to stir up a lot of trouble. For what reason Rachel Grey still didn’t know, though she was less than convinced that it had anything to do with protecting the secrecy of Majestic.
Kate returned her focus to Euston, “I’m married to a detective, I know how this goes. All you have is circumstantial evidence, you don’t have any proof of an affair and until you do you can’t presume anything further. So, unless you were going to charge me…”
“Oh I’m charging you alright!” snapped Euston angrily, “a night in prison might be just what you need.” He rose from his chair, glaring at Detective Grey who’d barely said a word since early that morning. Collecting his papers from his desk, Euston headed to the door. “Sleep tight Mrs Eldridge, I’ll see you again in the morning.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
25th July, 2007
7:05 pm
Waldorf Hotel
Ellis was in his suite's balcony when Alessa’s gentle tap on the door startled him. It was her. He didn’t need to open the door to know it, her sense was so strong as always. He took a few deep breaths of the scented, cool air and finally got up from the bench near the fragrant climbing jasmine that had been planted on the spacious balcony. He looked down at the forgotten cup of tea in his hands. After a few sips, the infusion had turned cold. He emptied what remained in it around the base of the creeper, and as he straightened a series of emotions crashed through him, but he felt too tired to either analyze or stop them. Again. Sighing, he moved to open the door.
Alessa stood on the other side, eyes full of sorrow and – was that concern? Averting his eyes, he moved away to let her enter. There would be time to dwell on that soon. With a critical eye, Ellis gazed at her body as she passed him by. She was still clad in the same summer dress she had been wearing that morning – seemingly ages ago… fortunately the knife scars were almost gone, and the bandage on her neck looked clean. But she exuded a mixture of emotions that were puzzling, to say the least. He sighed again, well, if another empath were in the room with them, he’d surely be getting the same from him.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said at last, when it was obvious she wasn’t speaking. *Guilt, that’s guilt* he recognized that quite clearly now, and his heart shrunk in fear.
Alessa nodded, and looked up at him. He was watching her with a warm smile in his face, but he looked tired too. Spent. And she felt at fault for not having come earlier. She should have come hours ago.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Alessa wetted her lips, not certain of where to begin. Maybe telling the facts would be the best. “After I left Ch- Chance, I’ve been around all day. I –I needed to talk to Darian, and Kate… there were so many questions to answer-”
Ellis chuckled lightly. Indeed. Questions were the least of his worries at the moment, although he’d been answering ‘questions’ most of the day too. “Come on, Alessa. I think we should talk on the balcony. Seems you may need the fresh air.”
Alessa automatically followed him to the balcony, but refused to sit. Instead, she walked to the brick railing and leant onto it, watching the colorful lights of LA below; Ellis’ suite was on the fifteenth floor, and the view was spectacular. Without looking at him, she started to tell the facts, the safer topic at the moment.
“Chance – he told me that he didn’t remember anything from the trip to Israel till now. He woke up in an alley in Madrid some days ago, and he got to the States this morning.”
She didn’t see Ellis nodding. That confirmed what his DP had been able to discover about the ex Templar, at least the part about his entering the country, and his point of departure. But he kept silent, he didn’t want to interrupt her story.
“He doesn’t know what happened in Israel, doesn’t know a thing. At least that’s what he said. I had to speak to Darian, you see? About his death. Well, it seems he never died. He just followed that Titan through a dimensional portal. But not before asking Darian and Cole to keep ‘silent’ about it. For my sake! As if I were some thoughtless child who’d rush into danger!”
Ellis sensed her outrage and smiled. That felt much better than sensing her guilt. And he could see why, although in a way he could understand – and even share – Chance’s reasons for keeping his parting a secret. Alessa would have rushed into danger, thoughtless child or not. But he’d never say. He didn’t want that outrage directed to him.
“So he believes it’s really Chance who’s back?” Ellis asked at last, when she’d calmed down a little.
“Not you too. You saw him.” Alessa turned to look at Ellis. “Do you believe he’s a shapeshifter too?”
Ellis cocked his head. So somebody else had their doubts? Kate, most certainly, the witch was intelligent, and had seen more than her fair share of strange happenings. “I sensed a demon, and that fits. But I’d never seen Chance in my life before this morning, I couldn’t possibly avail for his identity.”
“However, you should know – better than anybody – the workings of a shapeshifter.” He added walking to her side. “Are you certain it’s the real Chance?”
Alessa stayed silent for a while, just looking at the view. It was the third time that day that somebody – other than herself – had asked her that question, and she really didn’t have an answer. Chance and she, they hadn’t had time to talk much, but what they had… well, it had felt real.
“I think so,” she said at last refusing to turn to him. Alessa sighed and rested her elbows on the railing. To change her train of thought she spoke again. “He wants to meet the other White Hats, wants to explain things… I guess he’ll want to resume his position in the group.”
Ellis sighed, and mirrored her position on the railing. Without looking at her, he asked. “What about his position with you?”
Alessa’s intake of breath was clearly audible in the quiet night. She knew he’d ask that. It had been written in every line of his face, of his body, that was why she’d been avoiding coming to see him. She closed her eyes. She loved Ellis. She couldn’t deny it. His presence besides her was overwhelming, and images of their times together kept assaulting her mind. Her arms tingled with need. She needed to be held and comforted. She needed his love. But Chance’s face persisted in appearing as well. She loved him too. Or had loved him too. She didn’t know how she felt anymore.
*Talk to Chance. Talk to Ellis. You have time.* Kate’s words sounded in her ears, and she sighed again. But she didn’t have time. The man beside her needed an answer, and she needed him.
“He doesn’t know about us,” she said, after maybe too long. *What about me? What about us?* her own words flashed now, and she almost sobbed. She hadn’t told him about Ellis, although Chance was an intelligent man and he surely suspected something. “We –he didn’t talk much about it.”
“I don’t care about what he thinks, Alessa. Or wants. I’m worried about what you want.” *You said you loved me,* he said to himself, but bit back the words.
“I – I don’t know, Ellis.” Alessa said, almost whispering. “I love you. I meant what I said this morning. I love you with all my this morning’s heart.”
“But your heart is not the same one as this morning, is that what you want to say?” Ellis’ voice was soft and gentle, but there was an edge of hardness underneath.
“No! Yes… dammit, no sé! I don’t know.” Alessa almost cried then, and shuddered. She stood still until she could control her trembling. Control your body, control your emotions; she admonished herself. She squeezed her eyes tight, “you have to understand me, Ellis, please. He is Chance. I loved him so much… and he’s back.”
“I understand.” Ellis said, but his voice had lost its harshness. She hadn’t said she loved Chance, she may not have noticed, but she’d used the past tense when referring to him.
Ellis extended himself into her all he could, invading her as he had never done before, trying to untangle the mixture of emotions that enveloped her as a cocoon. Guilt, yes. Confusion, rage, concern. Sorrow. Much sorrow. But there was also love, all shy and hidden under the weight of the rest of her emotions. He was smiling slightly, distracted, when Alessa touched his arm, making him jump in surprise.
“Are you prodding my mind, Ellis?” she asked, somewhat amused.
“I – mmm sorry, I-” Ellis blushed furiously, and lowered his eyes. What he had done was inexcusable. One thing was to pick up her emotions and another quite different to invade her mind like that. “I’m sorry Alessa. It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t,” she said, leaning into his chest, wishing for him to embrace her. “Don’t apologize. I need help here, what did you sense?”
Holding her close, Ellis planted a kiss on top of her head. She was so small, so deceivingly small. Her head just got to his shoulder, but he had never underestimated her. Like in that moment.
“Love, I sensed love under all that confusion you feel.”
“Oh, I love. The problem is whom.” She laughed humorlessly. “It seems our love is doomed, Ellis. Every time things start going right, something happens to unbalance everything.”
“I don’t accept the idea of destiny. Your fate is your own doing.” Ellis said fiercely. “Our love is ours to make, the thing is… will you let it?”
Mesmerized by the green of her eyes, Ellis just looked down at her, echoes of his question sounding between them. Passion and need overcame him... and before he knew it, his mouth was plundering hers. Lips, teeth, tongue... The kiss was almost an assault, it was so powerful... so demanding...
Alessa’s eyes fluttered closed as her body took control of her mind, leaving it empty of anything but the demands of her heart. She moaned when Ellis’ mouth took hers... parting her lips when his tongue sought entrance past them. She pressed herself to him, demanding as well, her loving and desire coming off in waves and making him groan. But Ellis broke the kiss, and grabbed her chin with his hand, turning her face so that she would open her eyes and look at him. They were both breathing heavily, their eyes heavy with passion.
“You love me Alessa,” he said with a certainty he was far from feeling. “You are confused now, and you need time to sort your feelings. I understand. But I’m sure you’ll realize it’s me that you love.”
He kissed her fiercely again to cover the doubt in his eyes, in his heart. Then he broke the kiss, taking Alessa’s arms and parting her from him to establish eye contact once more. “I’ll give you time. But until then, until you make a decision… this is the farthest we’re gonna go.”
“You can’t have us both, Alessa.”
Jail Bird
Los Angeles Police Department
Thursday, 26th July 2007
07:35pm
Kate was cold and tired by the time Galen was allowed to see her. She shuddered as the door to her cell opened, the Clunk, Click of the steel bolt sending vibrations through both of them as Galen was led inside.
They looked at one another with reticence; bodies rigidly tense as they waited to be left alone. When the key turned in the lock Kate was the first to break the silence.
“Can we talk now?” she asked warily, glancing up at the four corners of the ceiling. “No cameras or…”
“No, we’re okay,” said Galen, crossing the room and sitting down on the solid-looking bed. He sighed wearily, rubbing his face with his hands. He’d spent the entire morning and afternoon on a knife-edge, pacing around the station trying to find out what was going on and receiving little more than a few sympathetic nods and the occasional pat on the back for all his trouble. He didn’t need sympathy; right now he needed to know the truth.
“The truth?” said Kate suddenly, picking up on that last overriding thought of her husbands. She ran her hands through her hair agitatedly, before sitting on a small chair opposite the bed. “I should have told you everything,” she said quietly, looking up at Galen sadly. “Actually, I did try to tell you the night we returned from the hospital… I just didn’t know how.”
“How to tell me what?” asked Galen uncomfortably, twisting the thick wool blanket that covered the mattress in his hands with unease. He didn’t believe for a moment that Kate could have been having an affair with Tony. He didn’t care what evidence they showed him or what theories they threw in his face, the very idea that Kate would even touch such a man, let alone concoct such an elaborate lie just to cover her tracks was absurd.
“I’m glad you think so,” said Kate calmly, hearing Galen’s thoughts as loudly as though he’d spoken them. She smiled softly, despite the seriousness of the situation. Kate wouldn’t have blamed Galen if he had doubted her fidelity, at least in some small measure, but just knowing that he trusted her enough for it to never even enter his mind… it made her feel warm inside with love.
“No, not an affair, I don’t know where they got that idea from… I don’t know how any of my things could have gotten to his apartment either… but Galen, I did… I did kill him. I’m sure you must have suspected…”
Galen nodded silently. “I should have said something but I just… I figured you’d been through enough, that you’d tell me when you were ready.”
“And I would have… if things hadn’t gotten so crazy… But surely you can understand why I had to kill him. Why I had no other choice.”
“He raped you Kate,” said Galen quietly, “you don’t need any other reason than that.”
“It wasn’t just that,” explained Kate, her voice soft and delicate as though anything louder would break her into a thousand pieces. “I won’t say I’m sorry Galen, I’m glad that I killed Tony, he was an evil man… more than you know.”
Galen frowned, his eyes following his wife as she rose from her chair and crossed the small room to sit beside him on the bed. “What do you mean?”
“You have to understand,” she said quietly, taking Galen’s hand and firmly lacing her fingers through his. “I kept this from you because… because I didn’t want you to hurt anymore than you already had. I knew that you’d blame yourself, and I couldn’t let that happen, it was what he wanted. He wanted to punish you… through me.”
Galen’s eyes flickered for a moment as he sorted through Kate’s words. “Tony…” he said eventually, finally putting all the pieces together. “Tony raped you to get to me? To… punish me?”
Kate nodded reluctantly, averting her gaze. “He told me everything, Galen. He wanted me to know why it was happening… who he was.” She wet her lower lip tentatively, tightening her hold on her husband’s hand. Whatever happened next Kate wanted him to know that she still loved him, that whatever Tony’s reasons had been she would never lay the blame at his door.
“Tony was… the son of Anthony Constillias.”
Galen felt his chest tighten and bile rise up into his throat. He wanted to rise to his feet and pace or clench his fists tightly but Kate wouldn’t let him. Instead she wrapped her arms firmly around him, pressing him close against her body, so close that he could feel the anxious rise and fall of her breast, and her sweet, forgiving breath against his neck
“He blamed you for the death of his father,” she whispered into his ear, still holding him tightly, “for the information that you gave to Farefax. He wanted you to be punished, you and everyone else who was involved in Constillias’ murder.”
Kate stroked Galen’s hair gently, kissing the side of his neck. “He killed all those people… the ones you told me about connected to Majestic… he was the man they were looking for, under our noses all that time…”
Galen pulled out of Kate’s embrace sharply, he couldn’t bare her to touch him and kiss him when he had put her through so much pain and degradation. He didn’t care what she said… Tony would never have laid a finger on her if not for him, if not for the actions of his past.
“That’s why,” said Kate sadly, “what you’re thinking now, that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. But I won’t let you blame yourself Galen, it wasn’t your fault. You may as well blame yourself for loving me.”
“How can…” Galen sighed, pacing agitatedly and grasping at handfuls of his hair with frustration. “How can you be so calm about all this? No matter what you say I’m the one who put you in danger. My god, Kate! That man violated you and half beat you to death!”
“And now he’s dead,” said Kate flatly, rising to her feet and taking hold of Galen’s face in her hands. “I killed him Galen… and I enjoyed every minute of it. I… I held him just like I’m holding you now and I made it happen. He suffered… and I felt it, his pain, his anguish… he begged for my mercy, and I didn’t give it to him.”
Galen frowned, breaking free from Kate’s hold. “Don’t say things like that,” he admonished, “it’s not you.”
“What I want to know…” said Kate as though she hadn’t even heard Galen’s protest. “What I want to know is how any of my things could end up in Tony’s apartment. Unless he took them himself…” Kate turned and refocused her gaze on her husband.
“That woman… Detective Grey… she seemed awfully… I don’t know… uneasy…. Didn’t you once tell me she worked as a liaison with Majestic?”
Galen’s frown deepened significantly. “You think Majestic have something to do with this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Kate sat back down on the lumpy mattress and sighed, her face setting into a picture of disquiet. “I don’t mind admitting that I’m a little scared, I feel like something’s going to happen… something bad.”
Galen sat down at her side, his own face no less worried. He shared Kate’s fear but didn’t say so outloud. “You don’t mean like a premonition do you?”
“Not a premonition,” said Kate with a small shake of her head, “just a bad… feeling.”
The sound of a key turning in the lock startled them both out of their inner reflections and Kate grasped hold of Galen’s hand tightly, pulling him close into a last kiss of desperation.
“Remember I love you,” Galen said softly into her ear, taking a deep breath from the scent of her hair. As the door opened, he pressed his forehead against Kate’s, cradling her cheek gently in his hand. “Try to sleep tonight and I’ll be here to see you first thing in the morning. Don’t worry… I’m going to get you out of here.”
Kate smiled, though her usual warmth seemed to dissolve quickly, replaced by a quiet despair. She held on to Galen’s hand as long as she could as he walked to the door. “Please…” she said softly to the solid steel as it slammed in place and the lock turned once more. “…Hurry.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 25 2007 – 3:33 AM
Youth Hostile: “After-Tash”
The broken-down building sat in the dew of the deep hours—the time long after midnight but quite a while before the break of dawn. The din of the battle taking place blocks away had died long before then, and a lone figure dragged herself to the small steps of Youth Hostile. Obviously injured, the red-haired female vampire crumpled to one knee at the first stair but somehow managed to drag herself inside the building. She left bloody handprints on the railing right before throwing herself through the doorway. Julia closed the door behind her quickly and leaned on it; she didn’t know if she was followed or eve if the White Hats were already here. She didn’t want think so, but she wanted to make sure…
“No one followed you,” a hoarse voice confirmed her feelings from the darkened living room. Julia peered into the darkness to see the young man clearly. When she reached to peek out the door, that same young vampire hissed an additional disclaimer. “Better not,” he whispered. Apparently he wanted to be safe, too.
Julia limped to the edge of the couch and leaned on the arm-rest. “Boy, they sure found her easily, don’tcha think? They probably know about this place, the work she did here. They’re just biding their time until--”
The young male vamp scoffed. “They would have come if they’d known. Luckily, Tash…” Benji Law’s voice trailed off as he said her name. “She led them away from here. Sooner or later they’ll find us, but for now, thanks to Tash, we’re safe.”
Julia sank to the couch and slid next to where Benji sat. After a long pause, she wanted to clear a few things up. “So, you saw?”
Benji nodded. “I had a good view of it. Nothing any of us could do.”
“Where were you?” Julia snapped. “I…I thought we’d see you out there in the fight. But you weren’t with the rest of them, were you?”
“I was nearby. I saw it all, though. Got my fair share of it, too,” he added. Benji turned to reveal the large blood stain that soaked his shirt. He winced as he moved, then clutched his chest with his arm.
“Holy Hell, Benji!” Julia gasped with concern. “Did someone try an’ stake you?”
“Looks like they certainly failed, yeah?” Benji laughed grimly. “Hell, I would have felt cheated if I didn’t have a nifty little battle souvenir.” A bit of blood leaked from the corner of Benji’s mouth but he continued to speak. “What about your thing…the goo thing? Did it work on the witches?”
Julia raised her arms. While her hands were drenched in blood her forearms seemed to be covered in some ooze from her attempt to incapacitate the witches. “It did. I think…and it didn’t.” She was obviously distracted now. “What I mean is…I can’t remember. If it had worked a little better, maybe that witch wouldn’t have gotten to Tash.”
Benji leaned back on the couch and left his right hand crossed over his wounded chest. “Well, I figured you and Walt woulda pulled it off, that’s all. Say, Jules—where’s Walt at?” he asked with minor alarm.
“Walt is dead,” Julia sighed. “I think it was one of those…did you see the big lavender killing machines?” she asked Benji, referring of course to the White Hats’ mercenary Norsh demons.
Benji shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Seemed more like an eggplant color from where I was standing, or maybe royal—”
“Walter is dead, Benji,” Julia repeated, her eyes widening. “We followed Tash into the battlefield, and he must have got distracted by one of those freakin’ face-huggers. You know—those little things? Never had a chance when one of the purple things got him…tore him up.”
Julia’s vice faded as Benji’s thoughts turned to Walt. So the young punk vamp was dead? Like, really dead this time? Benji was surprised but only slightly moved. “We knew not everyone would get out alive, Jules. He knew the risks, and he was as gung-ho as anyone.”
“Yeah, but only because I told him to be,” Julia murmured disgustedly. “Well, at least he went before seeing Tash get taken down. It would have killed him…figuratively, of course.”
“His hero put up quite a fight,” Benji acknowledged. “Tash really was something. Of us all, she was the strongest.”
Julia leaned back as Benji had done. She looked up at the dark ceiling of the place and sighed. “You came late to the party, Benji. I still don’t get what you and Rosei could have been doing.”
Benji kicked his shoes up onto the cracked coffee table, a small puff of dust shaking from his feet. “It doesn’t matter now what we did, or were about to do. We lost the battle, plain and simple.”
“Those damned White Hats staked Tash—the Great Enemy!” Julia mused. “I still can’t believe it.”
“Oh, believe it, Julia! Tash had one hell of a plan, using her insider knowledge against the Ass Hats like that. Good thinking…close to perfect, in fact.” Benji looked at Julia with a mischievous look in his eye. “Maybe we’ll learn from those mistakes and put more planning into things next time.”
“Next time?” Julia asked, surprised. “So the gang—I mean the Black Veins—you and Rosie are going to carry on without Tash?”
“From here on in it’s just you and me running the show, Julia dear,” Benji smirked. “If there’s a show at all. Rosie’s gone.” He swept his foot swiftly along the table, clearing the dust from its glassy etched surface.
Julia frowned. “Well, Rosie was the very last of the true Black Veins. Is continuing the gang what she would want?”
“I know it’s what she’d want, but there’s only one way to tell if it’s the right thing for us to do,” Benji explained. “I don’t mean ‘right’ in the ‘right or wrong’ sense, because, you know, I’d always choose wrong over right. But I mean right for us.” From the depths of the couch cushions he retrieved a small black sphere. “You want the honors?” he asked his female companion.
“It’s yours,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s up to you to decide our destiny; it always has been.”
Benji smiled weakly. “Now it’s up to both of us.” He shook the toy. “Will the Black Veins rise again?” The pair stared in anticipation at the bubbled window.
“ASK AGAIN LATER.”
Galen Explains It All
Kate and Galen’s House
Friday, 27th July 2007
9:44am
Nikolai drove down the street in silence, listening to the soft crunch of overheated tarmac beneath his tyres and trying to figure out exactly what he would say when he arrived at Kate’s. It had been two days since the fight with Tash and he’d barely heard from anyone. That in itself wasn’t exactly unusual, in fact it was common practice to spend a few days licking your wounds after such an event. But this had been Tash and Nikolai felt that he just needed to see how everyone was doing… and more than that, he felt an irrational urge within himself to be surrounded by friends.
Visions of sitting in Kate’s kitchen eating blueberry muffins and playing poker evaporated from his mind however as he pulled up by the side of the manor. Galen stumbled out of the house, slamming the front door behind him before struggling with the key. Nikolai could tell immediately that he was drunk, or at the very least suffering the hangover of one hell of a night.
“Galen!” Nikolai shouted, jumping out of his Monte Carlo and walking briskly to catch the detective before he got into his car. Galen stopped in surprise, completely unaware that someone else had even been approaching. The sheer volume of emotions emanating from the other man was enough to make Nikolai instantly wary. He was worried… no, much more than that, he was almost panic ridden.
“Galen, what’s wrong?” he asked anxiously, “Is it Kate? Has something happened to her?”
Galen pulled the car door open swiftly and then just as abruptly closed it.
“Nik…” sighed Galen in relief, leaning against the side of the vehicle with visible anxiety. “Nothing… Kate she… she’s fine,” he lied without any of the conviction that had made him such a good Majestic agent in the past. “I was just… I have some stuff to take care of. I’m sorry I really can’t stay and chat.”
Nikolai looked Galen straight in the eyes, holding his gaze steady. “Galen, you’re drunk, you’re not driving anywhere. Besides, did you know that when you lie, you always have a twinge of guilt about you?”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Nik persisted, “Is someone hurt? Is it Kate?” - Another twinge of worry from Galen, and Nikolai became more concerned himself, wondering just what was going on.
Galen looked down the street with obvious anxiety. Could he tell Nikolai? He was one of their closest friends after all, but if he told him that Kate was in jail then he’d have to explain everything else to him too… including what had happened with Tony.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Galen removed a pack of cigarettes and began fiddling with the cellophane wrapper for a moment before ripping it open and taking one out. He lit it and inhaled deeply, his body relaxing slightly as the long-missed nicotine entered his system.
Exhaling a cloud of smoke he suddenly looked sheepish and fiddled with the cigarette between his fingers. “Sorry, you don’t mind do you? Kate… she hates this, really. Gave up when she was pregnant with Emma and never…”
Galen took a long, long draw on the cigarette, making himself cough unexpectedly. He dropped the stub on the floor and crushed it under his shoe. “Guess one won’t hurt, right?”
“Galen, if someone you love is in danger, it’s only natural to worry,” Nikolai replied, wondering not for the first time if Galen was actually in any condition to drive at all.
“Come on,” he offered, patting the man’s shoulder, “wherever you’re going, we’ll take my car. Trust me, it has the armour of a tank and can help steer itself. It’ll probably get you wherever you’re going much faster.”
Galen paused for a moment, shoving the packet of cigarettes back into his pocket. “Fine… okay, whatever…” he sighed as he let Nikolai guide him into the passenger side of his Monte Carlo and start the engine. They’d been driving for almost five minutes when he realised that the Russian hadn’t even asked where they were heading.
Galen clenched and relaxed his fist repeatedly, watching the road quietly before pointing through the windshield. “Take this right and keep going to the end of Glendale then turn left.”
Nikolai nodded, taking the turns quickly. As a rule, most police officers did not pull over a speeder below their cut-off, which was usually 10 miles per hour or if a number of cars were actively passing you. He exploited these two general rules ruthlessly, trying to go fast while avoiding the most aggressive driving moves.
“I called round because… well, I wanted to find out how Kate was doing after everything with Tash,” he explained between taking Galen’s directions and trying to avoid the other cars on the road. “I doubt that Kate really had the time to take in what happened at the time, since we were all fighting for our lives.”
Galen nodded in response but he didn’t really take in what Nikolai was saying except to flinch almost involuntarily every time he mentioned Kate’s name. He idly drummed his fingers on the dash, lost in thought.
He glanced over at Nikolai and sighed, running a hand through his hair uneasily.
“She… she didn’t want me to tell anyone, Nik,” said Galen quietly, “but I don’t know how much longer I can keep this to myself.”
He rubbed his hand down his face and noticed that he’d forgotten to shave that morning. “She… about a week ago Kate… she went out with a friend and…” Galen turned to the other man, vacant desolation in his eyes as he spoke.
“Nik… Kate was raped and really bad too. If… if you’d seen her that night…” Galen inhaled deeply, desperate to keep his emotions under control. “It broke my heart to see her like that so… so… I don’t know, so… defeated, so alone… so lost.”
Nikolai’s shock was enough that, for a moment, he let go of the wheel. A look of horror crossed Galen’s face that had absolutely nothing to do with his concern over Kate as the Monte Carlo sped towards the end of another car… and then, without a single action from Nikolai, swerved on its own to avoid rear-ending it.
It was enough to jolt Nikolai back to the present. “I’m so sorry,” he said. True, he’d felt an underlying tension in the Eldridge household upon his return which he’d attributed to Tash’s turning, but this… this was unexpected.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked softly. “Anything, whatever you need to help Kate, I’ll do it if I can.”
“What can you do?” said Galen rather more harshly than he’d meant. He paused for a moment, listening to the sound of passing cars before speaking again. “I’m sorry… I know you… I know you want to help but that isn’t the issue here. You don’t understand.”
Galen shook his head in dismay. “I’m not even sure that I understand to be honest. The guy… the guy that did this to her, he was my partner.”
His partner? His partner had done it to her? It was no wonder that Galen was particularly upset, since he had both an attack and a betrayal to deal with. Even if he’d met Galen’s partner, Nikolai wasn’t sure that he could understand it all either. By some miracle, he managed to keep control of the car this time.
“Understanding does not always help in such things, Galen, and it might be best to focus on helping Kate to heal,” Nikolai finally said, before he became lost in thought. “Just where are we going?”
“The station,” said Galen bluntly. He was thankful now that Nikolai had stopped by that morning if for nothing more than relieving him of the burden of driving. If not Galen was certain that he’d be gunning the highway at 130mph easily – probably to his own death.
He glanced at Nik momentarily before returning his eyes on the road ahead. “Something came up,” he mumbled darkly, “the usual, you know? Some bullshit evidence that for some reason everyone’s decided means that my wife was having an affair with that lousy son of a bitch.”
Galen turned to Nik again, “they arrested her, can you believe that? Of all the fucking… they arrested her for the murder of that piece of shit who raped her! I mean… I always knew the judicial system was fucked up I just… I never believed…”
Nikolai wished that he could be surprised, but he couldn’t. The justice system was fucked up, and victims of crimes being arrested for defending themselves was all too common. It made him long for the Mafia in some ways, since at least they would go after rapists. “They arrested her?” he repeated again.
Fury rose up in Galen again, quite justified Nikolai thought. He pressed down on the gas just a little more as he thought. Law and Justice were often two different things, particularly when humans entered the equation. A thought began to form. “Galen… I know you think that I can’t do anything to help but…” he sighed as the thought occurred to him.
“I’ll offer to take a polygraph and lie her an alibi. As long as you can make sure that she isn’t connected definitively to the scene, I’ve had to fool enough of those that it’s an old trick by now.”
Galen laughed; it was a sound that was both uncomfortable and disquieting and made Nikolai shuffle awkwardly in his seat.
“I knew you wouldn’t understand,” he said, still laughing in that almost hysterical manner. “I said you wouldn’t didn’t I? The thing is Nik…” Galen sighed in a bid to try and calm his frayed nerves, “she did kill him. Seems unbelievable huh? I didn’t even know until yesterday…”
Galen rummaged in his pocket and pulled out another cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag as though it were an extension of his arm. “She told me… I’ve never heard of telepaths being able to kill someone by a simple thought before… but I guess anything’s possible.”
Galen inhaled on his cigarette again and rolled down the window to blow the smoke outside. “Kate did it anyway, my darling Kate held that man’s head in her hands and willed for him to die so much that she made it happen. Burst his brains like a balloon apparently.”
Kate killed someone?
Kate killed someone?
Never mind the method, the mere fact that his brains had exploded like a balloon should be more than enough to rule out homicide. But still, the thought of Kate being able to kill someone was shocking. This entire time, he’d thought her incapable of taking a human life knowingly. “She probably felt that her life was in danger,” Nikolai said softly.
“Not all killing is wrong, Galen. She was defending herself, nothing more; and it is a rare person who will not do anything to survive in the worst circumstances.” He took another glance over at Galen, still shocked at the news, if it were possible to be shocked anymore. “We’re almost there. What sort of evidence do they have?”
“You think I care about that bastard?” asked Galen fiercely, hardly hearing Nikolai’s last question. “I’m only sorry that I couldn’t be the one to… to…” he stopped before he said too much and inhaled on his cigarette again, trying to calm himself.
“But you know what this means Nik, you know Kate, the kind of person she is. She’s not like you and me… she’s never killed anyone in her life and that-“ Galen closed his eyes tightly, fighting back his emotions as they bubbled to the surface again like red hot lava.
“When she told me, she didn’t even care… it’s not that I want her to grieve over defending herself against that little- I just… he’s taken something from her you know? I could hardly recognise her last night, I’m ashamed to say it but she was so… cold.”
“Defence mechanism,” said Nikolai as he began to slow the car down, pulling off the freeway and into the city streets. “It’s not unheard of, she’s shuttered down, closed off her emotions in order to help her cope with everything. Kate cares too much to be really cold-blooded. If she let the full reality of it all sink in, it would probably drive her over the edge.”
Still, as he said the words, Nikolai had to wonder if Galen’s partner really had taken something from her. What happened to her next was up to Kate, if she could go on uncaring or put it behind her. “Whatever damage this guy did isn’t permanent, Galen. Kate will heal in time, with your help.”
“Maybe,” said Galen quietly, though right now he felt about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. “But what good am I going to be if Kate gets sent to prison? I… I can’t really say much about what is going on here… but I think Kate is being set up to take the fall for Tony and… Well there’s a bunch of other stuff that if I told you now would probably make your head explode.”
Nikolai sighed. He didn’t want to think about Kate getting sent to prison, or worse, getting the death penalty. “Galen, I have spent essentially years in another dimension. I’ve trained with demons and met vampires, had my mind merge with another one, and in the midst of becoming schizophrenic, ruined most of my life. I think my head is a little beyond explo-“
Nikolai fell silent in mid-sentence as they neared the station, pulling the car to an abrupt stop.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Outside the LAPD
Friday, 27th July 2007
10:31am
Galen was unprepared for what happened next. Stopping on Burbank, the two men climbed out of the car and stared at the row of fire trucks and ambulances jammed bumper to bumper up the entire road. Galen was unable to take his eyes off the sight; it was like a 4th of July parade gone wrong. There was even a line of hotdog vendors on the roadside, feeding the hordes of tourists, bystanders and reporters that crowded the sidewalk.
Meanwhile jets of water were still being sprayed into the smouldering remains of the old greystone building that had once been the 52nd Precinct of the LAPD.
Galen’s stomach did a small turn and for a second he thought he was going to be sick. He stumbled forwards, leaning on Nikolai’s Monte Carlo for support before suddenly sprinting down the road in the direction of all the chaos.
It was a snap decision that made Nikolai run behind Galen, pushing his way through the crowds. Desperation poured off Galen amidst the turmoil of morbid fascination and fear. Nikolai could feel a good portion of that fear himself, the fear that something terrible had happened.
As they reached the forefront of the crowd, Nikolai tried to hold Galen back, noting they were still putting out flames, and the officers were trying frantically to hold people back. “Don’t!” he yelled. “Galen, don’t go in there! It’s suicide!”
“It’s them! It’s them! I know it is!” cried out Galen frantically, not even aware of what he was saying anymore as he pushed and shoved himself to the front of the crowds with little regard as to who he hurt in the process.
“Kate! KATE!” he roared as loud as his lungs would allow him to. It was Majestic, he knew it and was so certain that he wanted to scream it from the rooftops. Who else would be able to pull off something like this? They’d played him again and this time it was Kate who’d been hurt.
*No… no please! No, not Kate, please let her be okay! Let me be wrong, let me be wrong!*
As Galen broke free of the police barrier he was swiftly grabbed around the scruff of his neck and hauled back, knocked off his feet and left sprawling on the tarmac.
“Detective Eldridge!” said the young Italian officer as he recognised the man. He held out his hand and helped him back up, his face paling to a shade of milky white. “I’m sorry sir I didn’t… I wasn’t…”
“Nevermind that,” snapped Galen. “Tell me where my wife is, that’s all I need to know. Is she okay? Was she in the building at the time?”
“Galen?” It was the voice of Anton Butler. As his face came into view Galen felt that sinking sensation deep in his stomach again. “Galen… come with me, we need to talk.”
Nikolai tried to relax amid the sea of emotions, matching the proper person to the proper feeling. To find a single person amid the feelings was no simple task, but ultimately he had learned that it required no special skill. Just patience, practice, and an ability to quiet the mind. In time, he found the strings which held concern for a friend… and the worry attached to them.
“Excuse me,” said Nikolai as he pushed his way through the police barrier too just in time to see Galen dusting off his clothes as he got to his feet. “I’m a close friend of the family, officer,” said Nikolai hastily before anyone had a chance to remove him, “I can tell that you’re at least concerned about Galen as well. Playing games is the last thing he needs right now. Can’t you just tell us what happened?”
Anton looked at the new arrival and shook his head dismally, turning back to Galen. “There was a fire down in the cells. We don’t know how it started but there must have been a fault with the smoke detection system.” Anton scratched the back of his neck uneasily, glancing up at the half destroyed building. “The sprinklers didn’t engage, the alarm wasn’t raised and the door release system must have jammed. Galen…”
“She’s hurt then, how badly? Can I see her?”
Anton shook his head again. “By the time anyone knew what was happening it was like an inferno down there, it… the fire, had started to spread to the rest of the building. The whole place was evacuated, when the emergency crew arrived they tried to get down there… to the cells… Galen, no one survived. They didn’t stand a chance.”
A disturbing grin broke out across Galen’s face and he uttered a half-hearted laugh that was tinny and hollow. “You’re telling me…” he shook his head, laughing again. “She’s not dead, Anton.”
Anton lowered his head remorsefully, unable to say anything. Galen however grabbed hold of him by the shirt and began to shake him furiously. “She’s not dead Anton! I told you! Now say it back to me! She’s not dead! SAY IT!”
The panic and disbelief was amazing, and Galen started to draw attention from other people around them. Nikolai felt kicked inside, but there was a degree of certainty to Galen’s denial… Kate was a powerful witch, and those who were as close as they, often formed psychic bonds, even if they didn’t realise it. Still, it would take a miracle for her to survive such a blaze, and while Nikolai might believe in magic, he most certainly did not believe in miracles.
A hand on Galen’s shoulder, he spoke softly. “Galen,” he said, unsure of how to continue. Amid everything else, there wasn’t just hope: there was rage, rage directed at some outside force. “Galen, I’m so sorry.” Outwardly Galen seemed to calm, but the storm beneath the surface continued to simmer.
“Maybe we should get away from here…” Nikolai suggested gently, “just until you’ve had time to be able to think.”
“Good idea,” said Anton with a sympathetic smile. He patted Galen on the back gently though he knew it would take more gestures than he could muster to ease the man’s pain. He might not have been terribly close friends with the detective but everyone knew how devoted he had been to his wife.
“There’s just one thing…” he paused for a moment as though deliberating whether to continue. “We… we’ll need you to identify the body later. When you’re ready. Just come and find me and I’ll take you through.”
Nikolai nodded and wrapped an arm around Galen’s shoulders, leading the shaken man away from the crowds. He led him back to the car and started the engine. They drove for only a few minutes before Nikolai pulled the car back onto the side of the road, drawing the vehicle to a stop. He glanced at Galen with worry before flicking open the glove compartment and removing a small hip flask which he knew to be filled rather generously with the best Russian Vodka.
“I’m not identifying any ‘body’,” Galen said bitterly as Nikolai pressed the flask into his hands. “They can go screw themselves if they think I’m gonna say Kate is dead just to suit them. Body... body, I mean! What the hell is all that about? How can they have a body when she’s alive? Oh wait… yes, I get it… it’s another set up.”
Galen removed the cap from the flask and took a large gulp, grimacing slightly at the strong taste. He looked up at Nikolai as though he hadn’t realised he was there. “You know how they do it right? Take some innocent dupe that had the same build and make sure she isn’t recognisable – maybe plant a few ‘personal affects’ for finishing touch. And of course people believe it… but not me, no, no, they’re not getting me a second time. Bastards.”
Nikolai’s first thought was that Galen was talking 'crazy people talk' but he had a certainty about him that seemed somehow wrong for it. The crazy were certain about their convictions as well, but Galen had an undertone of familiarity to it that made Nikolai seriously consider that it was real.
“Do you know something that you aren’t telling me? Of course you do,” Nikolai sighed, not even needing the emotional reaction. He would take whatever it was with a pinch of salt, but it would still have to be heard. Still, his ranting of ‘them’ and ‘they’ sounded a little paranoid - it put him in mind of Buster Keaton in Needfull Things, before he went and helped Ace Merrol blow the hell out of Castle Rock.
“I’ll go with you,” he suddenly found himself offering. “Tell Anton that I’m there for moral support, or help you make an ID, whatever. Strong emotion leaves a residual feel, and I might be able to tell… something.” Nikolai doubted that he would feel much of anything, actually, not with something like this. But still, the promise of support would do some good. He hoped.
“I told you I’m not making any fucking ID!” swore Galen angrily, beating his fist against the dashboard in front of him. “Why do I need to take a look at some poor sod who’s been burnt to death when I know right here and now that it’s not going to be Kate?”
Galen climbed out of the car uneasily, slamming the door behind him. There was heavy traffic on the road and the smell of exhaust fumes filled the air. He heard the other door open tentatively as Nikolai also stepped out, leaning over the roof of the car.
“It’s not her Nik,” he said firmly, “she’s too… she’s too strong, too powerful. People like Kate… people like Kate don’t just die!”
“Then what about Tasha?” said Nikolai abruptly, “she is very much dead, and you can’t deny that she wasn’t of the same spirit and vivacity as Kate.”
“How can it be her?” Galen asked desolately, his voice on the verge of breaking up. “Just tell me that, Nik. Tell me how I might never see her face again, never see her smile. Tell me that I’ll never come home and hear her singing in the kitchen or, or smell her perfume on my sweater days after she’s actually worn it.”
Galen held his head in his hands, feeling himself tense so tightly he thought he might explode from within. “Explain to me how every plan for the future that we ever made suddenly means nothing!”
Nikolai could understand Galen’s inability to accept such news, after all, he didn’t think he’d ever seen two people more firmly in love. And maybe that was why he was so adamant that he wouldn’t make an ID on the body that had been found. Of course Galen was certain it wasn’t Kate but… what if it was? At least this way Galen didn’t have to take that chance.
“Galen, I’m sorry. But think: if this is all a set-up, who is doing it? And for what purpose?”
Galen was quiet, burying his head against his arm as he leaned against the car for support. “You don’t know the half of it…” he mumbled. He was silent for many long minutes before he spoke again.
“I lied to you when I told you how Kate and I first met. Well… not lied so much as omitted certain pertinent facts… story of my life! The truth of the matter is I was sent to LA to investigate the arrival of a group of witches from England. Kate… she’d been kidnapped and it was my duty to find her. But I wasn’t working for the FBI…”
Galen raised his head and looked Nikolai directly in the face. “I used to work for a covert government operation called Majestic 12. Think ‘The X-Files’ only nobody was denying the existence of the paranormal… well, except to the general public that is.”
While he didn’t think that anything could have surprised him at this point anymore, Nikolai emphatically was surprised. Majestic 12… it was something that he’d heard mentioned once or twice, but never with the seriousness that Galen attached to it. The United States had a secret government agency covering up the occult.
“That’s real?” he had to ask in surprise. “No, no, I shouldn’t be surprised - not as a former KGB agent. You think your former employers would be faking her death?” An agency with that level of pull would certainly be able to pull it off.
Nikolai thought for a moment before making a decision. “Galen, have you considered failing to identify the body? Looking at their mock-up and denying that its Kate?”
Galen looked doubtful and he scratched the back of his neck with unease. “Of course I’ve considered it. But I mean… who’d want to put themselves through that when it’s so obviously unnecessary? I’ve no doubt that Majestic are capable of doing something like this, they live to lie and if they thought that the agency could somehow be exposed…”
They would kill to protect it, Nikolai mentally completed on his own. Such were the ways of governments and secrets. But another thought also came to Nikolai’s, if this Majestic agency would kill to protect their secrecy then how could Galen be so damn certain that Kate was still alive? Unless they needed her for something and this whole fire business was just a ruse… One thing was for certain, Kate was a very powerful witch, surely she would be more useful to Majestic alive than dead?
"Let me go instead," he volunteered, "I can officially fail to give them a positive ID, and buy you some more time." Whether it was to accept what happened or do some sort of investigation, Nikolai did not say.
“I…” Galen leaned against the car again, “I couldn’t ask you to do that, it… it wouldn’t be right.”
Nikolai sighed. “Well, we don’t have to decide now,” he said diplomatically, “if Majestic are involved then maybe you could contact someone on the inside? There are plenty of other options Galen, but for now, why don’t I just take you back home?”
Reluctantly, the former conspirator nodded.
What Happened to Kate?
Earlier That Morning…
Holding Cell 32, Los Angeles Police Department
Friday, 27th July 2007
4:29am
Kate had been so convinced that she would never be able to sleep that night. For hours she had laid on her back staring up at the grey featureless ceiling, listening to the inebriated ramblings of a drunk driver who had been brought in just after midnight and the monotone clunk, clunk, clunk, that were the footsteps of the police officer who patrolled the corridor outside her cell. Kate had known with absolute certainty that such noise, along with the uncomfortably lumpy mattress of her bed would keep her awake all night.
Which was why, at 4:30am, Kate was surprised to feel her eyelids flutter open. Her mind was foggy with the haze of sleep and it took her a while to even remember where she was. Straining her vision through the darkness of the night, Kate sat up, coughing slightly and rubbing her sore eyes.
Something was wrong. That was Kate’s immediate thought as she struggled to stay conscious, forcing her weary body to shrug off the heavy veil of sleep. Swinging her legs out of the bed, Kate coughed again violently, landing her feet on the floor. Her shoes sat on the other side of the room and the hard stone floor was cold against Kate’s bare skin.
She coughed again, her throat and lungs aching almost painfully. Suddenly she recognised the darkness for what it really was, a grey dense like fog… smoke.
Kate stumbled over to the door. “Help! Somebody… help!” she choked hoarsely, beating her hand against the solid metal. She could hear someone outside - several people in fact, running back and forth and doors banging shut, locks being turned…
Kate beat her fist against the steal door again, sending a tinny echo into the corridor. It was then that she noticed the thin curl of grey smoke unfolding beneath the door. Crouching low with her chin to the floor, Kate peered beneath the gap, her eyes darting from side to side as she tried in vain to make out anything in the gloom of the corridor. Still she saw nothing, no sign of help or anyone coming to get her.
Rising to her feet, Kate began coughing and spluttering again and pulled her sweater sleeve over her hand, covering her nose and mouth. With her free hand Kate began pounding on the door again unrelentingly, determined that she wouldn’t stop until somebody came for her.
Suddenly the metal griddle in the door swung open and a small white masculine face peered inside.
“What’s going on?” asked Kate anxiously, halting her banging abruptly. She pulled herself up to the height of the griddle and pressed her face against it. “I heard shouting and the smoke…”
“There’s a fire,” said the man, his voice devoid of emotion. “Just stay calm, everything is under control.”
Slamming the griddle back in place, the man’s footsteps could be heard running down the corridor. Kate slammed the palm of her hand against the door in annoyance.
“Wait! A fire?” She knocked hard, trying to get someone’s attention. A tightness formed itself inside Kate’s chest, she had always been terrified of fire ever since she could remember. In first year psychology she’d read a theory that ascribed all major phobias to hereditary memory – that thousands of years ago man had good reason to fear snakes and heights and so evolution passed those fears on to future generations. If so, then perhaps over five hundred years of burning witches alive was the root of Kate’s own fear. But regardless, no amount of theorising had ever cured herself of the phobia and so she pounded almost hysterically on the metal door.
“LET ME OUT! SOMEONE LET ME OUT!”
Kate began to cough again, the smoke was starting to rise, filling the room with a filmy grey mist. She banged harder on the door, shouting at the top of her lungs. Surely there was too much smoke for it to be just a small contained fire, why weren’t they evacuating anyone?
Taking a step back from the door, Kate held her out her arms as thick smoke continued to pour in from underneath, rolling across the floor like ocean fog. She would never normally perform magic when there was such a risk of it being witnessed by the less magically endowed, but this was quite literally a matter of life or death and what was the point in worrying about exposure if she died as a result?
”Effringo, Foris!” she shouted loudly, her voice cracking ever so slightly with a hint of hysteria as she channelled all of her energy into blasting the door open.
Nothing happened.
“No… no…” moaned Kate in disbelief as she examined the door for any signs of damage, but there were none. She tried the spell a second time… then a third. Still nothing happened.
“I… I don’t…” coughed Kate frantically, skimming her hands across the door. Something was wrong here, very wrong. There had only been a few times in her life that her powers had failed to produce results, so few that Kate could count them on one hand. Blind panic rose up within her flesh like a glass being filled with water. Kate felt her chest tighten again and her breathing become short and wheezing, she continued to cough as she fell to her knees, clinging onto the bed frame for support.
Just when she felt like she was going to pass out, a fierce blaring alarm began to sound, the doors to all the cells popped open simultaneously and water began to pour from the sprinkler system overhead. Kate blinked in disbelief, sliding to the ground as her breathing began to return to normal.
Out in the corridor, Aimes Carmichael glared at the two Igneus demons, his eyes gleaming with ire. The anxious moans and cries of the numerous detainees filled the hallway.
“Can’t ask you to do a damn thing unsupervised…” he sighed, calming himself as the breath left his body. “Never mind, just make sure you incinerate this whole block, I don’t want anyone to live to say what went on here.”
As the two demons disappeared from view, Carmichael turned to Michael Gemmel who stood further down the corridor dragging the limp body of Jennifer Lawson. “I trust those barrier spells will hold up now?”
“How the hell should I know? I’m a scientist not a magician. Where can I dump your girlfriend, she’s goddamn heavy for a dead woman?”
“Cell Number 32, follow me” said Aimes with a slight grin. Yes, killing that vile woman had greatly made up for all those nights servicing her needs. Now her dead, soon to be charred remains would disguise the fact that Catherine Eldridge had ever escaped her cell during such a devastating fire.
Kate opened her eyes in time to see fresh flames rising up in the corridor, licking the walls like the tongues of a dragon. Amongst such a sight were the screams of other prisoners, screams of pure unadulterated agony followed by a growing odour of burnt flesh.
“This is her?” said Gemmel as he pulled back the door to Kate’s cell to see her lying on the floor, “my god she looks worse than the last time I saw her…”
“Hell and back remember? You didn’t look too fresh when the Ministry got hold of you either.”
Carmichael took a step forward into the cell, revealing the broad shoulders and angular torso of a very masculine profile. He didn’t say a word as he approached the spot where Kate lay, soaked through to the skin from the spray of the sprinklers which continued to shower from overhead. Crouching low, he took hold of Kate’s wet hands and helped her up to her feet. She trembled visibly from the cold of the water and her nose and mouth were both marked with the sooty residue of inhaled smoke.
“I… I know you…” she mumbled disorientatedly, coughing again. Her mind was too foggy to pinpoint the where’s and when’s but she was certain of it… so certain that it sent a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with her wet clothes. “I know you…”
“Don’t just stand there like the moron you are!” growled Aimes at Gemmel, “get Lawson inside and make it look good.” Turning to the woman in his arms, he smiled, removing his jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.
“There, Kleines you’ll be okay,” he soothed gently, taking her hand. “There is someone who has been waiting a long time for this moment to arrive.”
All of a sudden, Kate remembered where she had seen this man. He had been one of the intruders in her house all those months ago when Orin Trask had been sent to test her magical abilities, and the shorter, balding man who was even now dragging some poor woman into her cell… hadn’t he been there too? A sudden jolt of fear over took all of her other responses and Kate felt herself begin to struggle, wrenching her arms free from the clutches of these strange men, whatever they wanted with her, she was certain it couldn’t be good.
Aimes tightened his grip around her wrist. “Gemmel! A little help out here would be appreciated!”
Seconds later a harassed Gemmel came lumbering out of the cell and grabbed hold of Kate, though he was short and rather puny looking he was incredibly strong.
“Hold her!” bellowed Carmichael as he reached into his pocket, removing a thick cloth and dousing it with a clear liquid. While Gemmel held Kate still, he pressed it over her nose and mouth. Kate tried not to breath in, tried to fight off the two men, but she felt weak and tired and as she inhaled a lungful of something cold and metallic her world began to swim before her eyes. Kate mumbled a quiet protest, grabbing hold of Carmichael’s arm only moments before her limbs gave way and everything went black.
Carmichael sighed, picking up the woman and throwing her over his shoulder. He turned back to the Gemmel and smiled. “I’ll take our little Sabrina to meet the Professor. Could you…” he waved a hand around, gesturing to the entire building. “Take care of things for me? What the hell, torch the whole goddamn place if you like just make sure nobody knows we were here.”
Destinies
Somewhere 30,000 Feet above the Atlantic
Saturday, 28th July 2007
4:06am Local Time
When Kate slept she dreamed of powder white beaches and the rolling surf crashing against the sand. She saw herself standing on the shore, the strong winds rippling through her hair and clothes, sending her skirts billowing around her legs like the torn sails of a ship. Kate shielded her eyes with her hand as she gazed above the horizon at a small dark figure making his way across the dunes.
She smiled, lowering her hand and grabbing handfuls of white, silky fabric to bare her feet as she ran towards him. “I’m here! I’m here!” Kate shouted happily while racing across the sands. After a while she stopped and frowned. Shielding her eyes again she saw that she was no closer to the object of her desire, worse than that, as she stood still the figure twinkled and flickered on the horizon before vanishing from sight.
“No!” cried Kate, picking up her skirt and running again. “NO! COME BACK! COME BACK!!!”
“Is she awake yet?”
“No… perhaps I used too much, though I followed the instructions exactly.”
“No matter, she’ll be okay.”
Kate murmured quietly at the voices in her head. They invaded the warm serenity of her dream and brought with them other sounds that she couldn’t quite place. First a soft, steady whirring that sounded like a distant food processor and then a strange ’Phft, Phft, Phft,’ sound that reminded her of the noise old men made as they spat out the disused shells of sunflower seeds.
As she opened her eyes various images began to come into focus… rows of high backed seats and small porthole style windows… Kate inched her eyes open a little more, finally recognising the previously indistinguishable sounds to be those of a light aircraft engine. Her eyes took in another sight too, within the cabin sat the two men who had abducted her from the police station, accompanied by another more distinguished looking gentleman.
Kate groaned, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her as she tried to sit. Then strong arms took hold of her and brought her upright, cushioning the back of her head.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Kate wasn’t sure if she had heard right, her head was still reeling and it took her several more minutes before she could attempt to open her eyes again. When she did, she saw the older gentleman sitting across from her, his fingers laced together with contemplation. Kate murmured a reply, her head lolling to one side slightly.
Elliot rose from his seat and sat by the girl’s side. He took her wrist in his hand and checked her pulse, it was a little slow but nevertheless very strong.
“Come on,” he said sternly, lightly patting Kate’s cheeks in order to rouse her. “Come on my dear, you’ve slept quite long enough, now wake up.”
Kate groaned again and forced her eyes to open, the older man took her face in both his hands and smiled as he directed her blurred vision towards himself.
“Ah, there you are… awake at last.” He withdrew a small vial from his pocket and snapped it open, waving it under her nose. Kate roused immediately, pulling back from the fowl smelling vial.
“I didn’t think we were going to have a chance to talk before we land you were away so deep. A regular sleeping beauty, wouldn’t you say so Carmichael?”
Aimes stirred slightly and cleared his throat. “Quite.”
Kate looked around the small air cabin, catching a glimpse of dark blue sky, peppered with grey, smoky clouds beyond the tiny windows. “Where… what?” She sat up better and looked again. “Where are we? What do you want from me? Who are you?”
Elliot smiled, “I’d say we were somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean about now on a bearing of 55° North by 37° East.” He reached into his jacket and removed a slim-line cigarette case. Taking one out, he then offered the open case to Kate. “Cigarette?”
Kate shook her head, frowning. “No.”
“No,” echoed Elliot as he closed the case and replaced it in his jacket. He lit up the cigarette and leaned back into his chair. “You used to smoke, but of course I know you gave it up, you gave up a lot of other things too.”
Kate frowned again, narrowing her eyes on the man. As she looked at him she had the strangest sense of déjà vu, it was so strong and over powering that an icy chill travelled down the length of her back, making her shiver. “Who are you?” she asked quietly, “Have… have we met before?”
Elliot turned his head to one side and exhaled a cloud of smoke, making sure not to direct any upon his guest. “Oh we have run into one another here and there… it’s a small world after all, and as you so often state – what will be, will be.”
Kate repeated those words in her head and turned to the other two men who sat further up the plane. “I know those men,” she said quietly, “they were there the night Orin Trask broke into my house. They… they saved me from him, I think.”
“A test,” replied Elliot simply, exhaling more tobacco smoke, “I had to determine your worth of course. I can’t have just anyone on my team, only the best. The absolute best. I’ve been watching you for a long time now, Catherine. We all have. Ever since that little dispute with Serapis and Janus, I must say, I very much enjoyed how you dealt with the situation, and this little band of rebels – growing smaller by the day quite recently. Very amusing. You’ve shown leadership skills I’d not had the pleasure of observing before the last few months.”
“You’ve been watching me.” Kate’s face had taken on a stony expression at that word, her back had stiffened and the hairs on her skin had raised on end. “Well I can tell you’re definitely not Watchers so… the question still stands. Who are you?”
Elliot removed the cigarette stub from his lips and extinguished it in the palm of his hand. “My name is Elliot Zimmerman, Professor Elliot Zimmerman to be entirely accurate. Are you sure I can’t get you something? Herb tea perhaps? I have reason to believe that is your beverage of choice.”
Kate sighed in exasperation. “Along with a side helping of bullshit? No thanks.”
“Tut, tut, Mrs Eldridge. Such language is unbefitting a woman of your… stature.”
“So is being kidnapped and held against my will.”
Elliot laughed broadly, “my dear lady, this isn’t kidnap, think of it more as a… recruitment.”
“You call this recruitment? Try abduction. That’s still a felony last time I checked.”
Elliot tapped his index finger against his lips thoughtfully, “you asked whether we had met before. We have in fact, quite a few times, but I will tell you the first time I laid eyes on you. Years ago you came into my office back in England and you tried to convince me that The Coven of Sindell was fully capable of managing its own affairs without the help of-“
“The Ministry of Magic,” Kate frowned, “you’re from The Ministry?”
Elliot smiled, a slight wistful glaze covering his eyes. “That day was a turning point for me – for you too, in a manner of speaking. I remember seeing something in you even then. The sorrowful glimmer in your eye, I remember wondering what a young girl like yourself could have to mourn over.”
Kate looked away, remembering that time herself. She had lost Luc not more than a month before and had been emotionally torn between her loyalty to her feelings for him, and those new feelings she had begun to have for Galen.
“But you see, grief is the great enabler in my opinion,” continued Elliot, levelling his gaze at Kate. He slid his index finger beneath her chin, redirecting her attention towards himself, discerning a certain amount of sadness in her eyes.
“Such a terrible thing to have to endure, Mrs Eldridge, but I’ve always found it most effective at allowing one’s true colours to shine through. For me, your colours have never shone so brightly as when you lost your dear child.”
“How dare you,” said Kate stiffly, recoiling from the man’s touch. It was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly all those feelings of sadness about that time in England after Luc’s death had vanished, replaced instead with harsh, rigid bitterness. “You talk about my daughter as though she was nothing more than an obstacle to be mastered. I don’t know what your plans are, but don’t presume that you know anything about me.”
“Oh but I do,” retorted Elliot, still so much his usual composed self that his voice even held a note of forbearance, as though he were educating an ignorant schoolgirl. “I know a great deal about you Mrs Eldridge, which is the reason you’re here.”
“Why I’m here…” repeated Kate coolly. She was silent for a while, thinking, all that time she felt the Professor’s eyes on her. “They think I’m dead don’t they?” she asked, looking up and levelling her gaze with the ageing man. “Galen… my father, my friends… the fire and that poor woman they were dragging into my cell. You wanted them to all think I was dead.”
Elliot nodded. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes things easier if you believe that you can’t go back. Besides, those friends of yours have proven themselves to be rather… meddlesome. I wouldn’t want them to interfere with my plans.”
“Well you sure fooled me,” said Kate quietly with a shake of her head, “all this time I thought The Ministry of Magic was a force for good, I thought you were good people-“
“-and we are,” insisted Elliot, “it was not us who locked you up for a crime you did not commit. It was not this agency that sent a marshal of witches to hunt you down, nor was it this agency that allowed a deranged sociopath to sexually abuse you. Not us, Kate.”
“Then why am I here?” she asked firmly, “why have you been watching me all this time? Why did you bring me here? Why?”
Elliot grinned, “Dear Mrs Eldridge… because we’re going to save the world, and you’re going to help us.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 25th, 2007
8:35 pm
Chance pushed open the door and stepped into Bob's Bar, breathing in the smell of alcohol and blood of various types. When he took his second step he could feel the heads of the few demons and vampires inside turn his way. By the fourth all conversation had died as Bob spotted him. The owner of Bob's Bar - actually called Orvil Wedge - gave him one look and turned an interesting color somewhere between sickly green and as white as a sheet.
With a twinge of amusement, Chance made straight for him, watching as his expression slowly changed to one of terror. Yet he remained rooted to the spot. A brief glance around the mostly-empty bar confirmed that everyone was watching him very carefully. This should be interesting He thought, remembering the reputation he had around here.
Chance remained quiet until he was up at the bar, leaning casually on the top. "Hello, Bob. What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost."
His words were enough to break Bob out of wordlessly opening and closing his mouth. Like a fish. "Y-y-you? But- aren't you... y'know... dead?"
Chance slid his hand across the bartop. "Funny thing; death. Sometimes the powers that are like to play with the rules...And sometimes they like to break them outright." He looked up at Bob with a funny glint in his eye. "Of course, to really see the funny side, I guess you have to go through it yourself."
Bob gulped and looked left and right. No help was forthcoming, only continued stares. "What...what do you want?" The bartender asked in a whisper.
"Certainly not to sample your...ah...'exciting' refreshments. I'll tell you what, Bob, how about we go and have a little chat out back? We've got so much to catch up on." Honest comradeship would have been easier to pull off, but he knew Bob responded mostly to threats and had made sure his words were icy and sarcastic enough. For added effect, Chance put on a little sneer.
A testament to the shock he was still feeling, Bob obeyed without a word. He led him into the backroom without even taking the towel off his shoulder or even putting down the glass he was pretending to clean. The dingy backroom was lit only by a single window that cast a patch of sunlight on the hard floor. Dust was lazily circling in and out of the rays.
Chance walked over to a chair and dragged it close to the table. "Sit." He commanded and pushed Bob into it. Then he went and got one for himself, sitting opposite the bartender. "Now, I have a few questions..."
"You always do..." Bob muttered.
"That's true. Consider these threats, then. Do what I ask and answer what I ask and we'll be just dandy." From his pocket, Chance removed a knife. The blade caught the sunlight and glinted as he reached over to place it on the table before them. Bob eyed it nervously and set the glass down on the table before him to wring his hands. The knife left no questions as to what would happen if Bob didn't comply.
"I don't think I need to remind you about my threats, do I?" Chance continued. "No? Good. Now, lets get started..."
***
As Chance stepped into the apartment lobby he did his best to hide the bloodstains on his trousers. If he kept his hand right here - yes, just over the thigh - and tugged his t-shirt down to there. He glanced down quickly and smiled. Perfect. Walking anywhere with bright red stains visible was going to attract unwanted attention and it had been nagging at him the entire journey from Bob's. Out in the street it hadn't been to bad, but here inside the lobby Chance felt the danger was far stronger.
His precautions were not in vain. Looking up he could see that the lobby was pretty busy - well, it was the middle of rush hour after all. All sorts of people coming and going. Going about their day, minding their own business with not a clue what's really going on right in front of-
Chance's train of thought broke off when he spotted one person in particular. Alessa... What was she doing here? No matter.
"Good evening," he said as he approached, "I'm sorry I didn't call. There were a few...people I needed to check up on."
Alessa just glanced at him and she took quick account of his disheveled state, the barely covered bloodstains and the ripping in his t-shirt. He looked just like he did when he came home from a rough ‘hunting’ night and didn’t want her to notice, except for the expression in his eyes. There was a somewhat distracted look to them. She sighed; she wasn’t looking at him, as she would have on those nights either, so she couldn’t complain.
“Don’t worry, I wasn’t home most of the day, anyway. There were some people I needed to check up on too.” She replied, a little nervous. Now that he was there, she didn’t know how to start. “I –mmm, I thought we needed to talk some more, Chance… I'm sorry to bother you at this time, but-“
He held up his hand. "Its no problem at all, Alessa. Really. You never bother me." With the same arm Chance reached over and took her by the shoulder, guiding her towards the lift. "Come on, let’s head up to my room where we can talk in confidence."
Alessa nodded and allowed herself to be directed by Chance till they reached the lift. Throughout the journey up and awkward silence reigned. Chance could feel a distance between them as they stood in the lift. Something, it seemed was up. He tensed in anticipation of what it could be.
At last, the lift car reached the tenth floor and Alessa breathed a sigh of relief a she stepped out. The journey was terribly uncomfortable and she wasn't used to feeling uncomfortable around Chance.*Maybe I'm just on edge after what Darian told me?*
Chance led Alessa down the hall to the room he had rented and slid the key in the lock. Pushing open the door, they stepped into a spacious - if sparse - room.
"Make yourself at home." He waved, taking in the living room and kitchen adjoined. Stepping over to the sofa Chance shrugged. "I'm sorry it’s not much. I haven't really had time to decorate."
“It’s better than your last place, anyway” Alessa took a look around, and smiled. “You have a bed, quite an improvement,” she added, and blushed. She didn’t like the implications of that last comment. She walked to the window to hide her embarrassment and looked at the street below.
“I went to see Darian today.” She said, still not looking at him, but feeling annoyance replace embarrassment. “He told me some interesting things…”
Chance took a few minutes to get himself comfortable on the sofa. He used the time wisely. Darian? He could only think that something had slipped. The half-fae had let on about something. From the look of Alessa, it was something bad too. Something interesting? What could it be?
At first he thought of acting disinterested but quickly decided that wasn't the way to go about it. Chance frowned. "Oh? Really?" Darian knew many interesting things. Chance couldn't do anything unless Alessa narrowed it down some more. Then he could defend himself - as it looked like he was on trial here. He had to play this carefully but with any luck... "Is it... is it something to do with what happened?"
Alessa arched her eyebrow, finally turning to look at him. He had no right to look so comfortable sitting on that frayed sofa... so Chance; with his bloody pants and torn t-shirt, his spiky hair and lop sided smile... She felt anger rise in her again and frowned. She’d been angry at Chance before, but never like this… there was something wrong in how she felt about Chance, no matter what Kate said.
“Have you remembered anything else?” she asked in return.
Chance sat back in the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. He allowed a hint of frustration to rise to the surface and spread across his face. "No. Nothing at all. Actually, that's where I've been today. I've been trying to piece together what happened but...nobody seems to be able to tell me anything. Despite some 'encouraging' tactics on my part." With a glance at the bloodstains – which he knew Alessa had noticed despite his best efforts - he grimaced. "Not everyone is happy to see me again, either."
Alessa found herself almost smiling at the complaining tone of his voice. “I’m sure you were very upset.” He didn’t remember. Was it fair of her to punish him for something he didn’t remember? Taking a decision she moved towards the sofa and sat down next to him.
“Darian told me what you asked him back in February,” at his puzzled stare she sighed. It wasn’t fair; she just couldn’t lash at him for that. “You asked him to tell me you were dead. I thought you had been killed by the Titan, he had told me so.”
“Seems you did it for my safety, too.”
Your safety? Chance repeated in his head with wide eyes. Now why would I do that unless...unless I wasn't going to come back. Interesting... He licked his lips and turned to look at her. "Then I guess I owe you an apology. I can only think that I did that because it was quite likely I wasn't going to come back. In that case then I would have wanted you to move on and not wait for 'someday' or 'maybe'. And the sooner the better, too." As he spoke his eyes glazed over and his voice took on an almost distant tone. It was almost as if he wasn't speaking to Alessa anymore. "Everyone needs closure."
Alessa stared at him. He sounded as if he were talking about somebody else… not himself. She had lost her memories too, but to no account she had felt so… detached. He had rested his head on the sofa, and was staring ahead, seemingly lost to the world.
Alessa’s hand flew upwards, as if by its own volition, and rubbed his temple, where a remaining bloodstain blemished his skin. She didn’t feel surprised when the unforgettable shot of electricity that Chance’s contact always brought didn’t course her body. She kept rubbing his temple, and leaned onto him to kiss his cheek.
“Everyone needs closure, indeed.” She said softly looking into his eyes, and she smiled sadly. She wasn’t falling into those clear blue pools like she used to fall, she wasn’t chocking from the breathlessness his nearness always provoked. She loved him still, loved him very much, but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t the same. “It's only ironic that it was your coming back that brought me closure.”
"Yeah..." He smiled a little and then sat up, suddenly changing the subject. "Was that all Darian had to say?"
Alessa pursed her full lips, and then she relaxed. She knew what he was doing, he was avoiding her, but she wouldn’t let him. “Yes, that’s all he had to say. He wants to see you again, too, of course. But you’ll have time for that tomorrow.”
She sat up too, taking his hand, and tugging at it so he would look at her again. “Chance, we need to talk… It won’t serve you to avoid me.” She fought the need to lower her eyes; instead she smiled and sought his. “I’m very sorry, Chance, but things are way different for me now. We need to talk.”
Chance felt where the demoness wanted the conversation to go. Although he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about going there, he could always speak to Darian later. "Yes, we do. And I'm not trying to avoid you, Alessa. Remember it was you I came to see first before anyone else." He squeezed her hand. "I know I can't just come back all of a sudden and expect you to deal with it. Believe me, I don't. I thought you would want some...space. To think things through." Dropping her hand Chance brought his together in his lap. "I guess you've done that, right? Whatever you want to say, I'll hear you out."
“Right,” she said, feeling suddenly angry again. Why was he being so damn gracious about it all? She was sure he knew where she was headed, wasn’t he going to fight for her? The need to shock him out of it overcame her, and she spoke. “I don’t know if you knew of it, but when you went into your personal quest in Israel, you left me in very dire straits.” She took a deep breath, bitterness raising in her again. “I had been kidnapped by the Watcher’s Council and needed you as I needed to breath. Of course, you weren’t there to help me, but fortunately I wasn’t alone.”
“You met Ellis today, Ellis Longwood. He’s Ernie’s son. Well, he was there for me. He’s helped me through all those times. And I love him.”
Careful. "Good." Chance said at length. "You deserved to have somebody." He paused again and took a deep breath. "If I had known you were in trouble, if I had known anything had happened to you... I would have been there as fast as I could. You must know that. But..." Here he looked distant again. "I can only think that I had no free will left to decide my own actions. I was in the grip of Dray'chen's sword, Alessa. It had slipped its fingers into my head and twisted me like a puppet." His face twisted into a look of disgust and he felt like he should spit or something, but he refrained from doing so. At last he composed himself. "I'm glad you've found someone you deserve. I'm glad you did what I wanted you to and moved on. Ellis... he... seems like a nice man."
“And I would have been there for you, Chance, if I had know about Dray’chen’s sword. I never knew of the power it had over you. If I had, I wouldn’t have left for England precisely at that time.” She said softly, replaying those times in her mind. “I guess we both have our regrets, but that’s history now.”
She rested her head on the sofa again, raising her legs and folding them beneath her as he looked at his tense back. “I wish I could tell you I still love you the way you deserve to be loved, I wish I could still feel the same. I’m sorry, Chance.”
Chance rested one hand on her shoulder. "No, no that's quite alright. I accepted things could be different - would be different - when I told Darian to tell you I was dead, and I was prepared for it on the way over here." He smiled. "I'm happy for you. Really."
*Why is he so civil about it?* She asked herself, watching his smiling face. He didn’t sound jealous, he didn’t sound outraged… she knew that if things were reversed, she’d be demanding... angered... something. Of course, her emotions usually flared, lashed out and burnt with passion. But so had his; their relationship had always been a tempestuous one. There was something strange about this all.
“I’m glad you’re so understanding, Chance,” she said at last, when it became evident that she needed to answer.
Yes, well, I kind of have to be, don't I? He thought, but kept his silence. Instead he patted Alessa on the knee and rose. "Did you think I'd be angry that you did what I wanted you to?" He chuckled. "Of course not. Look... I should probably get cleaned up..."
*I thought you’d be sad, at least,* “Sure,” she answered instead, raising as well. *And you didn’t know that was what you wanted till some minutes ago.* There was something definitely amiss here. The sword again maybe? Could it be it still had a grip on him? “About the sword...” she said, to test waters.
Chance whirled. "Yes?" He instantly regretted it. It was becoming clear where his interest lied.
“I think we should try and find it, actually,” she answered, keeping her face straight. *Yes, there is certainly something there.* “Like it would bring closure to you too. Maybe I could help you there.”
He smiled, warmly. "Thank you, Alessa. All I... All I want is to be sure it’s gone forever. It’s done too much harm already; to me, to you, to dozens of others. I don't want it to harm anybody else ever again."
Alessa nodded, whatever the reasons behind his interest, she couldn’t agree more. “I understand. I feel the same way too. That thing needs to disappear. I’ll see what I can do.” *And what I can learn,* she added to herself. Raising to her tiptoes she planted a swift kiss on his cheek, but when she parted she was wrinkling her nose. “Go bath now, Chance, and wash that blood scent off you, please. You smell like a pig in a slaughter house!”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007 – 3 am
Daye walked away from the dark alley. Her friends were slowly making their way home. Kate looked battered and exhausted, but Daye knew that Galen waited at home to cradle her best friend in his loving arms. Ellis had carefully escorted Alessa away as well. Daye watched and tried very hard not to let her own bitterness swallow her whole. They had one another to lean on, the warmth of a beloved to help erase the horror of this night and the terrible duty they had fulfilled. Darian had someone waiting at home as well. Daye felt the bile rise as she thought of her own empty bed, of the cold that waited to embrace her. Sam and Maia were at home, but they needed her strength, not her weakness. No one was waiting to hold her as she fell apart. She’d made sure of that through her own folly.
Daye climbed into the empty van and pulled out onto the quiet streets. She drove, mindlessly, as memories, both good and bad, flooded her mind. She recalled meeting Tash, the many times they’d fought side by side, the laughter and tears they’d shared. Daye felt her despair rise once more as she realized that Tash was truly gone now. Kate and the others had destroyed the monster and set Tash’s spirit free. Maybe now Tash could have some real peace. No more hunting, no more pain. That was the most they could hope for, any of them.
Daye noticed that she had left the city and she realized, suddenly, where she was headed. She laughed mirthlessly. Of course, where else?
Daye drove on, passing by the stretches of beach. She rolled down the window and let the early morning breeze blow the scent of the water across her face. She passed high price houses and scattered trees, before finally pulling into the small lot that they’d set up near the house. She turned the van off and sat quietly for a few moments. She thought that now that it was over the grief would come roaring back and maybe then she could begin to come to terms. After the initial shock and horror of what had happened to Drew and Tash, Daye had closed down. She had forced herself to focus on the things that needed to be done. She’d taken steps, fulfilled obligations. She hadn’t given herself time to fall apart. There had been no time to give. Now, finally, when she had nothing else to do, Daye felt…numb. She felt nothing. There was no sadness, no fury, no disbelief, just weariness. She couldn’t get past the exhaustion to anything resembling grief.
Daye slowly climbed out of the van and walked through a small stand of trees. She stepped into the familiar clearing. Her eyes strayed to the fledgling tree she’d planted with her own hands such a short time before. This spot had taken on so many meanings for her. She’d come her to say goodbye time and again, surrounded by those she loved and, once, alone. She’d laid to rest many friends and one lover in this place. The ground was sanctified by their tears and the spirits of those that had gone before her. Yet, now she felt no comfort.
Daye moved away from the clearing and stepped out onto the small stretch of beach. The last light of the moon shone on the sand and sea. Daye could remember vividly the last time she’d stood here, making vows she’d already broken and dooming Drew, dooming herself. It had been her weakness, her mistake that had cost them both so dearly. And now, Daye stared out at the water and wondered what was left for her. She was alone and empty. And the only things she had left were questions.
“Why?” Daye whispered woodenly. “My mother, my friends, my lover, and now my husband.”
Daye turned her face up to the sky. “All my life, I’ve served you. Fulfilled the duties and obligations of my family, of my blood, and for what? I’m not allowed a moment, not a shred of happiness. Again and again, like malicious children, you take and take from me.”
Daye’s voice rose as she spoke. She felt something filling her now as she addressed the Powers that Be. That something was fury. Anger wrapped around her like a lovers’ arms and she fell willingly into its embrace. “Enough is enough! No more! You want a puppet, an obedient servant, find some other witch! Maybe Kate can stand to go on and on doing the right thing and being rewarded with nothing but pain, but I’m done. Let the world save itself. No more for me!”
“Do you hear me?!” Daye’s shouts rang out in the dawn’s stillness. “I’m done. From here on out, I’ll do as I please. To hell with you, with all of you. To hell with the White Hats and the do-gooders. To hell with the Watchers and the sacrifices. I’m done! I swear to you, never again. I’ll protect what’s mine, and Goddess Above help anyone or anything that gets in my way!”
Daye stared for a few more moments out at the sea and up into the sky. She waited, hoping she’d managed to rile up something, someone. She wanted a battle, a true fight, but nothing happened. Finally, chest heaving from the effort of her anger, Daye turned away and walked back towards the clearing. She didn’t stop for a moment of reflection. She held tight to her cold fury and let it carry her all the way home.
Fearless Zombie Killers!
Wed, Jul. 25, 2007.
12:51 in the morning (though it doesn't actually count...).
Hunting.
Snapshot of South Central at night:
A red Ferrari convertible is rolling slowly through the streets, a gigantic raven perched on the backseat next to a pretty Asian woman with dark red hair the color of clotted blood. She's got a dagger made out of 747 window glass strapped to her right forearm, right along the Giger tattoo. The guy driving is a spectacle himself, his face almost hidden by the mass of black curls, and his teeth the only other thing noticeable in the dim light. They're outshining everything in a five-foot radius just by reflecting off of the streetlamps, which flicker on and off to some unknown beat, possibly Scissor Sisters' "Laura". He's lip-synching along with music. Closer to the car, snatches of Poe's "Not A Virgin" can be heard snarling from the speakers, just low enough to blend into the nighttime noises.
A rotting figure stumbles out in front of the car just as the streetlights go on. The man, Adam, flicks his wrist, two fingers pointing at the slack-jaw. The raven goes at it, ripping the scalp off the thing on a drive-by from either Hell or PBS' Nature. It's still going, although it's slightly unsettling that now its brain is pulsating along to the streetlights. Adam sings a bit, not to the car, but instead to the lights.
As he sings, he draws his pistol and fires at the thing, hitting the beat every time, still singing.
He looks disappointed when there aren't any more, but sees that Rae's quickly bashed another emerging from the side with his golf club. Seeing it in her hands...beautiful.
When the night's work is over, he takes her back to the bar and makes her leave, even though she begs to stay. He goes back into his cell/alcove/room at the back, takes out a pair of stainless steel chopsticks, mixes some red bits into a container of leftover Chinese, nukes it, and begins to eat. It's the perfect ending, can you say "hallelujah"? He spreads himself out and sleeps the next couple of days, guilt and work free.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Friday, 27 July 2007
9:15 PM - Bob's Bar
The young Asian vampire and his frazzled sidekick limped into Bob's Bar relatively early on Friday night. Still, even for the time of night, Bob's place was empty. Julia glanced from corner to corner, only spotting a few vamps in cozy little areas. She leaned up to Benji and whispered.
"Where is everyone?" Julia asked. "I know it's still early, but…there's usually more than this, right?" She sank to a stool at the bar and dropped her elbows onto the counter.
Benji sat next to her. "You're right it's still early--it's too soon after the fight," Benji pondered. "I think the battle must have scared everyone away from the area…"
"You're damn right it did," a gruff voice commented from the other end of the bar. Bob the proprietor slid a few glasses to the two young vamps. "Seems like my regular clientele, vamps and demons alike, just up an' left." He shook his head as he wiped down the bar. "Must've been a helluva fight."
Benji looked at Julia knowingly. "You know it. So, you haven’t seen any of the gang around?"
"Your gang, ya mean? The gang that I hold almost wholly responsible for my declining sales?"
"Tash's gang," Benji corrected. "But yeah--them. Seen any answering to the name 'Black Veins' in the last few days?"
Bob chuckled, causing Julia to shrink back. "What?" she hissed.
"It's just that no one in their right mind would go throwin' that name 'round. Don't you get it? They've all gone! Whoever was left alive in your little club has gone underground, kids. If you want to find 'em, you better tell Tash to saddle up and start looking." He watched for Benji's reaction closely.
"Tash won't be looking for them," Benji revealed detachedly. Julia leaned her head on her hand.
Bob nodded as he wiped a glass. "So it's true. Heard some stuff…so I guess it's confirmed." After releasing a deep sigh he motioned to Julia. "What'll you have, miss?"
Julia perked up after her moment of silence. "Virgin Mary," she grumbled, her face turning to its vampire form.
Bob popped open a large bottle and poured a thick dose of blood. "Well, it's virgin all right. Can't promise her name was Mary, though." Julia smirked and took a quick swig. "And you Ben?"
"Whatever's on tap," Benji answered with an aloof wave. Bob returned to the bar with a bottle of thin, pungent blood. Benji lifted the glass, shifted into his vampire face, then turned to Julia. "To Tash," he toasted.
"To Walter," Julia added before taking another swallow.
"To Rosie," Benji muttered. After a long pause he gulped down the rest of the blood. Julia finished her drink as well.
"Need a refill?" Bob offered from behind the counter.
Benji tapped his fingers on the surface of the bar. "Hell with the blood," he started, to Julia's protests. "What we need is alcohol." Bob nodded and began pouring out the beer.
"But I like blood," Julia whined as she dragged her hand through her hair. Both her face and Benji's reverted to their human appearance. "Anyway…three toasts in one night?" Julia commented with a snort. "You think the other side loses as many as we do on a regular basis?"
Benji shrugged as Bob handed him his beer. "I think we take it worse. We are the bad guys, so it's sort of expected of us." He saw Julia frown. "But hey--the Hats lost Tash. That was significant."
Julia agreed. "Yeah, that was a big 'get' for the forces of darkness, wasn't it?"
"Amen to that," Benji smirked, eagerly taking up the beer. "Leave the bottle, Bob," he commanded, and tossed a few bills on the countertop. "We're gonna be here a while."
12:30 AM
The pair slumped over their stools and sloshed the beer into their mouth. Julia was the first to protest the drink, but even after three hours at the bar she proceeded to drink more.
"This stuff isn't doing anything for me," she confided in Benji gently. "Can I have some blood?" Julia hiccuped.
"If you don't like it then you're not trying hard enough," Benji said casually. A moment later he called out to Bob. "O-Pos for th' lady, Bob." Bob didn't answer. Instead, another shape shuffled out of the back room. Startled and partially intoxicated, Benji leapt up from his seat and seized the figure by his collar.
"Geez! O-Positive! I heard you!" the man whined.
"Who…are you?" Benji slurred.
"Did Bob shrink and grow younger?" Julia cooed attentively.
"My name's Dennis," the man replied, pulling away from Benji's loosened grip. "Bob's in the back. A few weeks back this place had crazy business, so Bob felt the need to hire on some help. He doesn't really need it now," Dennis added, gesturing to the now empty establishment.
"Dennis…" Benji repeated.
"Denny King, but most customers 'round here call me DK," the man noted cheerily. He extended his hand, which Benji did not shake. Julia shook it, though, with a flirty look.
"They call you 'DK', do they?" Benji mused, returning to his seat. "They don't call you shit around here, Dennis. You're lucky if they know you're alive, am I right?" of course Benji was.
"Ouch, man--my pride." Dennis began pouring blood for Julia. "What's up with Mr. Vampy-Pants, huh?" he asked her.
Julia shifted on her seat. "We lost three good friends a few nights ago," she explained. "Good friends."
"Oh," DK sighed. "Probably one of the score that died on…Wednesday, was it? Yeah. Sounds like it was a real cluster-fuck."
"I oughtta rip your eyes out with my fangs," Benji thought in response to the new bartender. "I have half a mind to dissect your abdomen with shards of this bottle…"
"Yeah," Benji grunted calmly to DK.
"Shit, Benji--is it midnight yet?" Julia suddenly asked, looking around her wrists.
"Half an hour ago, Jules, and you don't wear a watch," he reminded her. He knew why she wanted to know. "Right about this time, eh?"
Julia smiled sadly. "Shoulda been there, Benji. Tash woulda killed 'em all if they played fair."
"Yeah, well I guess they knew that we wouldn't, so why should they?"
Julia nodded. "So…what now? I mean, take out the ball again!" DK raised an eyebrow. "We can ask it again what to do?"
Benji spun towards her. "Now's not a good time, Julia. I'll know when we should ask. Until then…"
"Until then what, Benji?"
The male vamp set his glass down and slid it towards DK. "I think we're done here."
Bob emerged from the back room. "Hey, kids! You're, uh, not leaving yet, are you?"
"Places to go, people to kill," Benji informed the barkeep. "C'mon, Jules." Julia giggled at the prospect of hunting tonight and waved farewell to the men behind the bar. "Bob…DK," Benji said with a good-bye nod.
"Well, if you do run into any of your friends, tell 'em about Bob's, my friend!" Bob called to the departing duo.
"Will do," Benji said with an enigmatic grin just before leaving the building.
Bob and DK watched Benji and Julia walked out into the night. "They're not coming back, are they?" DK asked curiously.
"It's highly doubtful," Bob said with a groan. The bar was officially empty now.
"Will they ever come back? I don't mean those two. The vampires? The demons?"
"You mean our cash-flow?" Bob asked. "Ask me again later. I…I gotta take a nap." Bob went back to the back room, leaving DK to clean the bar and close up early that night.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Sunday, 29 July 2007
8:00 PM - Youth Hostile
Benji and Julia in:
"Severed Veins Part 1 - Leaving Los Angeles"
"Here, Birdy! Here, cat!" Julia called to the small black feline. She couldn't seem to find it, and asked Benji for assistance. "Benji, what should we do with Bird?"
"Hmm…farewell dinner?" Benji quipped. "I don't know. I'm sure he's around here--" And with that, Bird the cat appeared. After some minor hesitation it leapt into Julia's arms.
"Aww, baby! I'm not your mama. She's dead, for good this time. But just call me…Big Sis."
Benji rolled his eyes. "What would Walt say if he saw you cuddling up to that thing like that?" Benji asked Julia.
"He always liked cats, Benj," she snapped. "But he hid that fact beneath his gruff exterior. If you got to know him, I mean really know him, you would've…uh, known."
"Whatever," Benji scoffed. She was totally right. "The van's ready."
Julia stared at the large stolen vehicle. "We're totally gonna get pulled over in that thing," she chuckled as she stroked Bird's fur.
"Then you can have a nice California highway patrolman to eat," he shrugged.
"Benji, you still haven't told me where we're going. I'm all for getting out of LA. Nothing but bad memories from life and afterlife. But the suspense is killing me! Where are we going?"
"Wherever," Benji replied, shaking his little magic eight-ball in one hand. San Fran sounds nice this time of year. And there's this crater not too far from here. Rose said it used to be a town, a real paradise for evil." Julia perked up at this. "Said the 'Slayer' haunted that place."
"Slayer? What's that?"
Benji shook his head and smiled. "That's what I wanna know. Oh, and of course there's always Vegas. We might end up just about anywhere, because it's pretty clear we're done with Los Angeles." He tossed his eight-ball onto the van's seat. "Hell, if I knew I was leaving this city I would've let my sister stay…" he muttered.
"What?" Julia asked, her attention suddenly pulled towards Benji.
"Nothing. But from here on it's visiting exotic places and eating exotic people!"
Julia sidled closer to the more experienced vamp and abruptly tossed Bird into the van. "Benji Law, you make it all sounds so…romantic." She touched his shoulder.
Benji knew that Julia had been a little off ever since Walt died, and even though he never understood their relationship he felt that Walt's death was the only reason she was acting this way. Somewhere inside of him a tiny voice told him to reciprocate; probably the same tiny voice that told him to gouge out eyes and tear people apart. But, as he did most other times, he ignored the voice and passed on the opportunity. "We'd better get going," he said, climbing into the vehicle. Julia climbed in the other side with a whimper.
The van backed up from the alley beside Youth Hostile, and its passengers took a last look at their home. If any of the Black Veins returned there they'd be free to stay. No one would stop them, but they wouldn't find Benji and Julia. For inside the door was left this note, scribbled thoughtlessly by Benji Law:
"Black Veins:
I'm sure you all know by now that Natasha Brookes is dead. You may also know that Rose Bellwether is also dead. While they both brought us far and led us well, at the moment I do not see any reason to carry on their mission. Some of you may wish to, and I say, "Knock yourselves out." Seriously--knock yourselves out, as I will be unable to do so myself. If you think you can do better than the Great Enemy, be my guest.
Anyone seeking command of the Black Veins is welcome to it.
With much indifference,
Benji Law"
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Wednesday, 8 August 2007
8:45 PM - The Las Vegas Strip
Benji and Julia in:
"Severed Veins Part 2 - Time to Believe"
Featuring a very special guest-star...
"Happy Birthday to you…
Happy Birthday to you…"
"Stop it," Benji warned with a nervous chuckle as he and Julia walked down the Strip.
"Happy Birthday, dear Benji, Happy Birthday to you!" Julia finished quickly. "Heh…had to squeeze it in there," she said with a shrug. She wrapped her arm around his, leading him briskly towards a secret destination. Julia wore a sleek, curve-hugging black dress and a hot pink feather boa, trophies from one of the resort town's most successful call girls. Benji wore similarly formal attire: black dress pants and a slightly bloody black jacket…accented with a black T-shirt for the band Nine-Inch-Nails and a pair of polished black Army boots. His eveningwear had been salvaged from several of his victims over the last week.
"Not really my birthday, anyway," Benji tried to explain.
"Well, your human one. You woulda been--what? Like, twenty?" She shook her head. "And now you're forever eighteen." She sighed with a smile. One of the perks she enjoyed most about vampirism was eternal youth. True, she hadn't lived long enough to take full advantage of it, but when her old high-school classmates were pushing on forty, she'd be there to laugh in their faces.
"Still twenty no matter how you look at it," Benji tried to explain as they turned a corner. And, uh, where are you taking me?" He stared up at the tall glittering towers rising high above him. "Told you that I didn't need anything for today, you know."
Julia ignored him. "I found this guy--a demon. That nice vampire we met at the Palms recommended him. You'll love 'im! He's an analgesic demon…or something."
"So he dulls pain? That's good, I guess."
Julia frowned. "No! An…analogous demon! That's it."
"Um, big into wordplay? Not following you here, Julia."
"He reads futures," she wheezed exasperatedly, then motioned with her hands to drive the point home. "Destinies…purpose in life?"
"Oh. Anagogic demon." Benji hadn't really had much experience with demons, save a few wild ones he encountered when he wandered LA. None too civilized. He'd never met one of these before, either. Benji seriously doubted that this guy could tell him anything definite about his destiny--he also doubted that anyone could sway his opinion otherwise.
A grand set of towers loomed by. "This is the casino!" Julia squealed. She pulled Benji playfully inside and hunted down the lounge. If the demon was not there then he'd surely be back-stage. After whisking Benji to search the dressing rooms Julia finally found her demon. She pushed the door open slowly and tapped lightly on the wall. "Hello there…"
A peculiar green demon with ruby-red horns and frosted orange hair greeted them. "Come on in, kids--I'll be with you in a moment!" he instructed them, reaching for an empty martini glass. "You two here for a reading?"
Benji was slightly bewildered. "Um, yeah." Julia giggled as she pulled him onto a velvet-cushioned loveseat just inside the door.
"My name is Julia…this is Benji," Julia told the demon. "It's his birthday."
"Shalom," the demon cheered as he eased into his chair with a full glass of liquor. "I'm hosting a show in the Midnight Lounge in, oh, say forty-five minutes. We'll have to make this quick, but you're welcome to stick around to see it--my treat," the green demon offered. "It's an all-singing, all-dancing revue! And hey--cookie goes to whoever can guess which of our can-can dancers is a verbati demon in disguise," he hinted slyly.
"Well, we could come back another time if you need to get ready," Benji said quietly, partially rising from the couch.
"No, dumpling! Just sit back down and give me an earful. It's what I'm here for," the host demon insisted.
What could he tell him? Benji had to think of another way to get out of the reading. "Do you know what we are?" Julia looked at Benji inquisitively, then at the host.
The host nodded. "You're too cute--that's what you are! Isn't he just?" the demon asked Julia playfully, who nodded in agreement. "Look at him squirm, too…poor thing's never had a psychic reading."
"I do not squirm," Benji growled. "You sure you even want to plum the depths of our minds? We are vampires--blood-thirsty and relentless. "
"Okay, and if I was your mama I'd spank you. But I'm not, chickpea--I'm just here to get folks on their paths, not to judge." The host took a sip of his drink and sighed. "I once threw in with a group of do-gooders, real champion-types."
Benji raised a brow. "Oh? What happened?"
"Well, a few are in San Fran. The rest are dead, and I think I know why. See, as much as I loved those guys, they were too focused on the big battle and not the big picture. Sometimes it isn’t about good and evil. It all boils down to who's on the right path or not. Because it's "que sera, sera" out there, kids. Whatever will be…will be."
Benji nodded. "And you know about the right path. Destiny, is that it?" Benji's tone had become increasingly hostile since he last spoke.
"Yes destiny, little mister. The Big D! You don't think I know my stuff?"
Benji shook his head. "Someone…I mean, I was taught that destiny is subjective. We…make our own destinies!"
The host shook his head. "In some ways we do," he said matter-of-factly. "In the little, day-to-day ways. As for where you're heading in the long run--" The host rose to refill his glass. "What brings you crazy kids to Vegas? You a gambling man, Benji?"
"He carries a magic eight-ball," Julia blurted innocently.
"Adorable!" the host beamed. "So, risk it. What'll it hurt? Try a reading--let this ol' empath show you what he can do, huh?" The host flashed an easy smile and raised his glass.
Benji slouched forwards, pressing his hands to his forehead. After a little silence, he groaned. "Fine. Read me."
The host snapped his fingers. "There you go! See? You're on the right path already." He turned to see Julia approach the door. "You're welcomed to stay and watch. You'll have your turn next," he assured her.
"Thanks, but I think I'll be in the hall. Call me, though, when I'm up." She patted Benji's shoulder and opened the door. "Happy birthday to you…" she began to sing before finally leaving the dressing room.
"Sweet girl," the host commented after listening to her song. "For a vampire. Uh, no offense."
"Girl' is right," Benji scoffed. "She's basically a child."
"Oh, come on! Just because she flaunts her emotions?" The demon shook his head. "Son, she's only flailing those emotions in your face so you'll notice her!"
"What?" Benji spat incredulously.
"Never mind. I'll have the whole story once you open up and sing."
Benji sat back on the couch. "So, how do we do this? Do you need to, like, meditate?"
The host laughed. "You weren't listening. Just flap your beak and tweet, birdie! Sing a song--I'll hear your tune."
Benji flashed an appeasing half-smile. "This is insane," he told himself. "Sing for him? Why don't I just tear this idiot-clown's throat out and call it a night?"
"What should I sing?" Benji asked uncertainly.
The host pointed to a thick stack of books next to the loveseat. "Picky anything, doll. I can see you're a music fan," he observed, acknowledging the Nine-Inch-Nails shirt.
"Do you like the Nine-Inch-Nails?" Benji asked doubtfully.
The demon host smiled apologetically. "I'm more into the four-inch-heels, actually," he explained, motioning to a large poster of singer Liza Minelli placed right behind Benji's head. "But pick whatever makes you comfy and I'll read you loud and clear."
"Whatever," Benji said. "Maybe this one?" He opened to a page in the middle of the first songbook.
"Sit up," the host advised. "Helps the voice. Anytime you're ready."
Benji cleared his throat and sang the first few lines of the song's chorus:
"In the words of a broken heart it's just emotion, takin' me over
Caught up in sorrow, lost in the song..."
The host squinted at Benji, then waved his hands to stop him. "Could you turn it up a notch?"
"Emotion!" Benji warbled loudly. "Is that--?"
"No, honey. I mean, actually, yes! Emotion. It's just that you're kinda hard to read, like you're running negative numbers on the emotion meter. Sort of makes it difficult for an empath. Well, no harm done; let's take it from the top. Give it to me once more, with feeling this time." The demonic host gestured to Benji encouragingly.
Benji closed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate. How the hell could he coerce himself to feel? That's like asking, "How do you squeeze blood from a stone?" Benji's mind raced through his memory quickly, until his mind found the perfect thing. Suddenly it was two years ago, in the alley beside a packed warehouse rave. With the driving beat emanating from inside the building, Benji leaned against the wall, felt his heartbeat, then felt it taken away. As the anonymous vampire sunk her teeth into his neck, Benji felt a sudden passion-epiphany, an impact-fusion of all emotions at once. In the afterglow was a lilting euphoria, a gentle calm. That memory is what Benji used to fuel his song.
So Benji sang the rest of the song for the host, who seemed fairly impressed. "Mmm! You sure take direction. And I wouldn't have thought it, but quite a voice, too."
Benji rose from the loveseat impatiently. "Did you see anything, or not?" He expected the host's answer to be "not", but what did he really want him to say?
"First off," the host began with a serious look, "Let's get two things clear. And this isn't a judgment thing, but a basic step in setting you on your path. I know you want to believe."
"I…I don't," Benji stammered.
"No, you do. Hey, who's been intimately in your mind here?" he asked, pointing to himself. "So believe, Benji. Believe in destiny, magic, flowers and pixies…hell, if anything, believe in love! Funny thing about that, even soulless blood-suckers can love. Isn't that neat?"
Benji began to pace around the room. "What about this destiny you claim to be able to see?"
"Hold on there, partner!" the hose interrupted. "I said two things. The first being you've gotta have heart, and the second: no more secret killings. Secrets are, ooh, they're more trouble than they're worth."
"Secrets?" Benji gasped. "You said you see futures…how do you know?"
"Futures, and bits of the past. It's like a glorious Technicolor montage. And I think it's best that you really don't do anymore secret snuffs, okay?"
Benji smirked. Of course the host would tell him not to kill people. He used to be with the "good guys", after all. It was probably just a little of that do-gooder instinct leftover. "There's only been two," Benji mentioned.
"And let's leave it at that, hmm? Now, as for your destiny…you've got some fairly big things going on."
Benji was taken by surprise. "Me? Uh-uh. I'm not the big-destiny type." He sat back down.
"Well, just hear me out. I know why you act out, in the ways you do. The secrets, the threats, even your little magic eight-ball. You're searching for something in all the wrong places, little noodle. Ever since you've been vamped, you've got a constant no-holds-barred cage-match going on inside your noggin: demon vs. regular Joe Human. But you see, something--Hell, maybe even that something you're searching for--is coming. And it's gonna take those two sides and slap 'em together, Odd Couple-style!" The host sipped his drink and smiled. "What do you think of that?"
Benji chuckled skeptically. "I don't know. Something…is coming? I don't know what that means."
The demon stood and chirped out a bit of the Broadway classic "Something's Coming" from Westside Story.
"Could it be? Yes it could!
Something's comin'--Something good!
If I can wait...
Something's comin'
I don't know
What is
But it is
Gonna be great..."
After a moment he crossed his arms and sighed. "Think of the peace it'll give you."
"The peace," Benji repeated. He turned up to the demon. "Thanks," he whispered.
"Don't mention it, tiger! Just find your way and you'll be all right. Now get your girl in here…I'm on in twenty-five!"
8:15 PM
Julia's reading took much less time because she didn't fight it. With her usual cheery enthusiasm, the same she showed towards Walt, her cat, or killing, she sat on the loveseat and belted out the Beatles' "All You Need Is Love". She emerged from the room at 8:15, sighing happily.
"Oh, Benji. Where do you want to go now? The craps table? Roulette?"
"What did the host tell you?" Benji inquired.
"Just to go after what I want," she laughed, then touched Benji's arm. "Ooh! I hear they have kitten poker somewhere around here!"
"Yeah, it's the biggest thing in Vegas," Benji said, rolling his eyes.
"Not in the casino, of course. I meant hidden somewhere. I'm gonna go get Birdy…"
"Huh?" Benji was stunned. "I thought you liked the thing?"
"Yeah," she replied. "I'm gonna win him a play-mate!"
Benji dug his hands into his jacket pocket and shrugged. "Fine. We'll get someone to eat on the way back to the van."
With no warning Julia leapt to Benji's cheek and kissed it. "Happy Birthday," she said again before jogging ahead. Benji touched his cheek thoughtfully, then darted after her down the hall.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 26th, 2007
It had not even been 2 minutes that Liala had left to pick up groceries when there came a knock at the door.
Does she always forget her wallet and keys Darian sighed as he hoisted himself from the comfy position on the couch to go answer the door.
“How about you remember your ….” He stopped mid sentence as he pulled open the apartment door.
Chance cocked his head. Damn. That's the second time this has happened. Weird. He put on a quirky little smile. "Darian, good afternoon. Its good to see you again."
The half fae practically fell backwards in surprise. “You are alive!” he said gripping his friend’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “Come in come in! Man, seriously it’s really great to see you. I mean Alessa told me, but I guess I couldn’t believe it till I saw you live and in person.”
"Yes, I bet." Returning Darian's handshake, Chance stepped into his apartment. "Even for us its not like people come back from the dead on a regular basis." He chuckled. "Well, without fangs anyway. And before you say anything - no, I don't have those. No 'grrs' no 'arghs'." With a wide grin he held both arms open. "Just plain old me."
“That’s a good thing cause I don’t wanna have to dust another friend,” he replied seriously, soon after realizing Chance had no idea what he was talking about. “It happened recently….Tash got vamped….you can figure out what came next,” he finished sadly, trying his best not to stir up painful memories.
"Tash..." Chance closed his eyes. One arm reached out to Darian's sofa to steady himself and he lowered himself onto the arm. The pain in Darian's eyes was easy to see and the thought of the tough-minded Tash as a creature of the night unsettled him deeply. And to think he had nearly forgotten about her... "That...that is terrible. At least now she is resting." He looked up. "Who did it?"
“Nikolai. Honestly, I’m just glad it wasn’t me.” He paused briefly, as if contemplating the ‘what if’, until he suddenly returned back to the situation at hand. “Look lets not turn this into a downer, I mean you’re back and that is worth celebrating!” he said, trying to put on a cheerful air, as he walked over to the fridge. “I know I may be rushing things,” he started, tossing a beer to Chance, “but I really hope you join back up with the White Hats. I was getting kinda lonely being the only half human half monster in the group.”
Chance chuckled. "Of course I will. I'm just...ah...adjusting at the moment. You know, settling in a little." He took the bottle opener Darian passed him and popped his beer. Froth spilled over and Chance quickly took a swig before it made a mess of Darian's carpet. "I don't suppose Alessa told you about my memory?"
“You’re memory?” the fae replied puzzled. “No she must have forgotten to mention, why is something the matter?”
He sighed and lowered his head. Here we go again. "Its not there. I don't remember a thing Darian. After stepping off the plan at Jerusalem - bam - nothing. Nothing till I
wake up in a back alley in Madrid with the world's worst hangover ever." Chance looked back up, concerned. "Except I know that I was on no bender."
A look of unease marred Darian’s face. “You don’t remember the fight? The Titan? You walking through the portal? None of it?” he said only to have Chance shake his head in frustration.
“Shit Chance, I wish I could do something,” he sighed, feeling frustrated himself that he was powerless to help his friend. And then it hit him. “Cole!” he said almost screaming. “I cant believe I haven’t called him yet. He’s going to flip when he finds out you’re back. Anyways,” he continued to the point, a huge smile beaming on his face, “I’m almost positive he’ll fly back immediately, and for sure he can do some mojo to help get your memory back!”
In a flash Chance's uneasiness slid aside. The mention of the teen witch spurred new confidence in him. With a grin he rose to his feet. "Cole! Of course. We should probably call him as soon as possible. It'd be good to see him again." He paused. "Although...we may not even need his help. You see - there's one thing I do remember: Dray'chen's sword. Its all I can think of. I'm almost certain that' that's the key to it all - they're probably connected somehow." Clenching his fist Chance sat down again. "With any luck all I have to do is destroy the blasted thing and be rid of it forever."
The fae’s smile faltered briefly. From what he remembered combined with what Alessa had told him in the past, that sword was no good. “Are you really sure that’s a good idea, finding the sword I mean? There’s probably another way around it other than getting that twisted weapon back.”
Chance sighed and closed his eyes. "I hope you're right. I really do. The last thing I want to do is go anywhere near that damn sword, believe me." He looked up and away mournfully, almost as if he was resigned to his fate. "But in my heart I know I'm right. It was the sword that led me to Solomon's Temple in the first place. Don't you see, Darian? Its all about the sword, it always has been about the sword." Now his expression turned pleading and he held out his hands before him as if begging. "I don't want to get all Lord of the Rings on you here, but I think the sword and Dray'chen may be bound together. He used it to bend me to his will, who's to say he didn't use it to wipe my memory as well?"
Darian studied his friend’s face carefully before responding. It was so unlike the Chance he knew. But still, Chance was his friend. “Alright buddy, I’ll help you find the sword,” the fae said finally, trying to force a smile to his face.
"Thank you." Chance replied, instantly warming and losing the pleading look. Now he was the old Chance again. "I don't know what I've been doing, but I do know I missed good friends like you." He glanced down at his watch and checked the time. Oh, hell. I'm late. She's going kill me... "Listen, Darian, I hate to leave so abruptly but I've got an appointment I really can't afford to miss. But I tell you what," he smiled, "when we've found Dray'chen's sword and smashed it into a thousand pieces, I'll buy you a beer." Still smiling widely Chance stepped towards Darian's door.
“I’ll hold you to it. And Chance,” he said, leading his friend out, “Give Cole a call. If he found out you were back and you didn’t get in contact with him, I think he’d be pretty hurt. You know, he’d always talk about the time you saved him from Dathan at the last second back in the Hyperion battle.”
"Does he now?" Dathan? Chance really had to think who Darian meant for a long time, but then he remembered the ancient vampire. With that came back everything he knew about the Hyperion battle. "Huh...you know, for a minute there that all seemed so long ago. Well, I guess saving somebody's life its pretty important to them. I'll call him this evening. Thanks again, Darian."
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 26th
Just past midnight
“Oh, por favor!” Alessa exclaimed as she turned around to face the two thugs behind her. “You gotta be kidding. I had a tough day, boys. You don’t want to piss me off tonight.”
The men exchanged a glance and looked back to the girl in front of them. They were used to women cowering in fright at their sight, a couple of big, mean looking men, and they liked it. Well, at least some kind of cautious look… never the nonchalant disregard of this slip of a girl in front of them.
“Of course not, we don’t want to piss you off,” one of the men said, the one with the scar over his eyebrow and the spiky blond hair. “Just your money-“
“And a little azúcar, maybe, if you don’t mind…” the other one said, caressing the edge of the knife he was handling. He was darker, Latin looking.
Alessa sighed and rolled her eyes. She really wasn’t in the mood for a fight, much less with a couple of humans.
“Listen,” she smiled and tried to sound sensible. “I’ve really had a tough day, and a tougher week…” She looked at their faces and sighed again. “Come on, let’s be comfortable. I'm tired. I had a tough night too… although it wasn’t all that bad…” She smiled, blushing a little, and walked towards a pile of cardboard boxes, jumping supplely to perch on one of them and leaving the surprised men to follow her if they wanted their ‘money’.
She leaned back on her elbows and frowned. “A week ago my friend Tash was vamped.” She turned to the second man. “Yes, vamped, as in turned into a vampire. What’s your name, dear?”
The man answered automatically, the knife in his hand forgotten. “Eduardo, Eddy.” Then he blinked, “vampiro? You are nuts, chica.”
“Yes, vampire.” She patted the place in a near box. She sighed, “and I'm not. I wish I were. There are worse things roaming the streets than you two, you know? You’re kind of sweet, actually. Sit, sit. I'm sure you’ll love this.”
Eddy laughed heartily, it was a while since somebody had called him sweet. As one, the two men sat down as she said. They were intrigued by this woman, and a little time would do no harm. The night was young.
“Tell us more, girl,” he said.
“Ok, as I said there are all kind of things roaming this streets. Vampires, demons, witches… actually you’ve been kinda lucky you never encountered another one before now.”
“Another one? Why? Are you a vampire too, sugar?” The blond one asked, a slight smile in his face. This girl was crazy, right?
“No. But I'm a demon.” Alessa smiled beatifically. “I know, I don’t look like one, right? But believe me, I'm a demon.”
“Sure, sugar. Whatever you say.” The blond one moved closer to her and patted her knee. “And?” he prompted.
Alessa looked at his hand, comfortably resting on her leg and smiled. “Ok, well, as I told you, Tash – my friend – she was turned.”
“You should have known her! Or maybe… it’s better you didn’t. She wouldn’t have had patience for your kind. Tash was a huntress, you know?”
“She was? And she surely hunted vampires, right? Like that Blade guy.” Eddy smiled, feeling specially brilliant for his comment.
“There! Exactly.” Alessa beamed. “And she was great at it. The best of us all.”
“Then how come she got … turned? Is it?” In spite of themselves, the men were interested. The girl was pretty, and she was lively, and the story was good.
Alessa’s eyes clouded, she still failed to understand how a strong, intelligent woman like Tash could have been cornered and turned by an unknown vampire. “I don’t know. She run out of luck, I guess. She had been sad lately, that doesn’t help in this line of work.”
“Are you a huntress too, sugar?” The blonde asked, noticing the sad expression on the girl’s bright green eyes. “I'm Kurt, by the way.”
“Hi Kurt,” Alessa smiled.
“Yeah, well, sort of.” she sighed. “I mean, it’s not like I go patrolling every night or anything like that… but I'm part of the White Hats anyway.” At the puzzled faces of the men beside her, Alessa found herself telling them all about the White Hats.
It was almost funny, if you thought of it, how the small woman kept her audience enthralled with such a tale. Or not. Humans are a curious kind.
“So… these White Hats…” Eddy recounted as he tipped his fingers, “you’ve got witches, wizards, a cybernetic human, a couple of demons, a fae… what the hell is a fae, anyway?”
“A Nature spirit, in this case mixed with a human. Kind of cute too, if you like boy scout types.” Alessa smiled again, “he looks a little like that boy from ‘Smallville’.”
“Cute,” appraised Kurt, nodding, and turned at his companion when he chuckled. “What? I'm man enough to recognize beauty in other men!”
“Whatever, dude,” Eddy hurried to appease his friend. “Beauty, sure.” He rolled his eyes and looked at Alessa again. “What about your fellow, the one with the demon inside- Fate?”
“Chance. His name is Chance.” Alessa bit her lip, the scene that had not so far ago transpired between them still clear in her mind. “And he’s not my fellow… not anymore, at least.”
“Of course not.” Kurt reproachful tone almost made Alessa giggle. “He was killed by the Titan, Eddy, weren’t you listening to the lady at all?”
“Ah, yes, by the time that other evil fellow had you at his evil little island.” He sounded exasperated, “now, maybe you can tell me why all those little evil islands are always in South America? We’re always the bad guys! That’s a conspiracy against the Latin population, if you ask me!”
“Nobody’s asking you. And the evil fellow was English, you memory-man – a lord of the realm too.” He turned to Alessa for confirmation, “wasn’t he?”
Alessa giggled, “yes, he was. An Earl. Lord Ambrose Delancre. Let me tell you about Lord Delancre.” With a detached tone she couldn’t recognize as hers, Alessa explained Kurt and Eddy about the First Elder.
“Bien!, he deserved it, lady! Way to go!”
“You think so? I'm kind of ashamed of that part, actually,” Alessa said, blushing.
“Nah, you were infected, sugar, you can’t blame yourself for it.” Kurt corrected her, shaking his head while Eddy nodded his, agreeing completely with his friend. Alessa had to laugh in spite of herself. They looked so serious – it was a funny change from a couple of thugs trying to mug her to psychologists, then he ruined the effect with his next words. “Too bad you didn’t run into us while infected, sugar. We know how to scratch an itch…”
“Hey! That’s not the way to talk to a lady!” reproached Eddy and Alessa was surprised to see Kurt looked honestly chastised. “Besides, he deserved that and more, sugar. So, you finally killed him, right?”
“Yeah, but in a fair fight. I deserved that.” Alessa hadn’t noticed, but she had been handling the emerald pendant all the time. It was strange, for the first time in a long while she didn’t feel it weighting at her neck, all the contrary. She looked down at her hands now, and stared into the green depths of the jewel.
“Is that the necklace he gave you?” Eddy asked softly, interest in his voice.
“Uh- huh,” she answered, taking it off her neck, and keeping it for a second in her hand, as if weighting it. Then she gave it to the man, “here, I don’t want it anymore.”
“Geez, lady, thank you. You sure?”
Alessa nodded. “I don’t need it anymore.” She jumped off the cardboard box she had been sitting on the past couple of hours. “What I need now is to find Ellis.”
“What about… Luck?” asked Kurt.
“It’s Chance… and what about him?” Alessa asked, looking at the man besides her. She hadn’t told them about Chance coming back, had she?
“He’s back, right?” He asked, watching the girl’s face intently. “You never spoke in the past when talking about him. He came back for you, right? After all this time.”
Alessa sighed. “Yes, he’s back. But he didn’t come back for me. He hardly reacted at all when I told him about Ellis, actually.”
“You told your lover you were choosing another and he didn’t react?”
“He’s not my lover anymore, but yes. That’s what’s happened.”
Eddy had been listening to the exchange with round eyes, incredibly how Kurt managed to sound smart from time to time. Then he watched the pretty Latin girl again, she looked forlorn and tired, and no wonder. “Chica… are you sure it’s the same Chance you talked us about? ‘Cause it doesn’t sound so…”
Alessa let out a peal of laughter, “you know? You aren’t the first ones to ask me that. I guess I should see to that, shouldn’t I?”
“But first go to your Ellis, that man must be getting loco with anxiety.”
“My Ellis” Alessa smiled, a radiant smile. “Yes, I guess I’ll just go to him.”
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 26th
1:30 am
Longwood States
With a sigh, Ellis sat back from his desk and yawned. Ellis glanced out the window and frowned. It was dark outside, he hadn’t noticed how late it was till now. After Alessa had left him earlier that night he had rushed to his father’s library to do some research. On Dray’chen, and that god damned sword. He didn’t think Alessa would mind.
Ellis' current research had yielded next to nothing about the Dray’chen’s weaknesses as well as very little about his strengths. Not more than what they already knew, at least. Nothing much about his sword, either. All he could find were vague descriptions of how terrible and awesome were the thing’s powers. A lesser demon possessing it, etc. etc. He was beginning to suspect that much of the demon's reputation was mere exaggeration. The original records were so old, and had been copied and recopied so many times that he believed much had been lost. Besides, the information was about an item that most thought lost. It wouldn't hurt anyone to exaggerate or invent things about it.
The man got up and pinned his nose. He better leave now, before Alessa returned home. As much as he knew she wouldn’t mind, he didn’t want to press the demoness into anything, and she may feel his presence at her home as pressure. He looked around the library one last time, it all had seemed to go so well just a couple of days ago… even after the scare he’d had during the battle with the Black Veins… and now this, this Chance, coming back from the grave to take her away! It wasn’t fair.
*Stop the whining!* he reprised himself, as he walked to the door and turned off the lights. *you sound like a child!*
The fiery hairy demon charged Ellis as he got off the room. Taken by surprise, the man tried to do a spin kick but found himself propelled backwards into a wall. “Alessa! It’s me, Ellis!” He shouted, but her raised arm had already started to low towards his head.
Ellis groaned and opened his eyes to see Alessa’s face over his. She was looking… angry?
“What the hell were you thinking roaming about the house like that?!” she almost yelled, her eyes scared. “You know how long you were out?”
Ellis shook his head and immediately regretted it. Gingerly he touched the back of his head and winced when his fingers found a tender lump. “You have a strong knock, dear.” He pressed his lips together to prevent the laughter that threatened to bubble out when he saw the exasperated expression in his love’s face.
“It’s not funny, I could have killed you!” Alessa said, still scared, but her lips twitched in laughter anyway.
“Couldn’t you smell me, dear?” he asked, smiling and trying sitting down. His head hurt but his eyesight was clear.
“I was too distracted,” she explained. “I was worried about you too!”
“You were?” he asked, really looking at her for the first time. There was a light-hearted air to her; this was a different Alessa from the one who had visited him earlier that night.
“I went to your hotel, and you weren’t there. What were you doing here, in the first place?”
“Researching Dray’chen’s sword. You said Chance had been strangely interested in it- wait. Why did you go to my hotel?”
“Well, I didn’t want to be alone tonight…” Alessa answered, blushing.
Ellis searched her eyes, looking for confirmation to his hopes. A tender smile curved the corners of her generous lips as she looked at him with love in her eyes. Ellis laughed and held her tight, disregarding the throbbing of his head or the dizziness that enveloped him.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
July 26th
11:48 pm
Longwood States
"That'll be thirty bucks, pal." The taxi driver said over his shoulder as he pulled up. He threw the butt of his cigarette out the half-open driver's window and yanked the hand break up with some considerable effort.
Chance turned from looking out the window at Alessa's house to eye the driver incredulously. "Thirty dollars?" He repeated and watched amazed as the driver nodded his balding head as if Chance was an idiot. "You've got to be kidding me. That's extortionate."
The driver threw up his hands. "Hey, I don't set the fare, pal. No use getting all grumpy with me-"
"No, you just thumb the button under the dashboard that puts the fare up by a dollar every time." Chance said in disgust, opening the door and stepping out of the cab even as the driver's face went white. He walked round to the driver's side and picked up the discarded butt. "Smoking will kill you, you know." He said, tossing it in through the window where it fell into the driver's lap. "And so will badly trying to cheat me out of thirty dollars."
The driver could only mutter and stutter as Chance walked away, wondering how in the world he had managed to spot the same button that hundreds of people had missed. He turned to look into the back of the cab where Chance had sat. He can't even see it from that angle!
Chance didn't look back as he heard the cab start up again. He took a quick glance around and headed for the steps leading up to Alessa's imposing house. He did allow himself a little smile.
With a muttered curse, the cabby drove off leaving Chance to himself – or so he thought. High above, a black bird circled the area, its eyes fixed on the newly returned White Hat.
Pulling its wings in tighter, the bird finished its circling and began to descend quietly, its tiny frame landing in the shadows of a large tree. Chance never heard a thing as the bird became a misshapen form of feathers and skin, only to end its transformation back into regular human form.
With inhuman grace, the man followed Chance without making so much as a peep until he was within arms reach. “You know she has a new boyfriend?” Darian said coldly.
Chance stopped and forced himself not to jump. With slow and measured care he turned around to face Darian with a look of innocence. He could not think of anything he had done to elicit such a cold tone from the fae. "Yes, thank you. Darian, what is it?"
“Oh nothing, you know I was out hunting, looking for the things that go bump in the night. You remember what that was like, right?” he replied, his tone turning friendlier. “And I spotted you out here, so I figured I would drop in and see what you were up to.”
With the change in tone, Chance slipped into a friendly smile. "I was just about to go talk to Alessa. Nothing terribly exciting, I'm afraid. Come on in, I'm sure she wont mind." Turning back towards the house Chance started back up towards it. "So, since you're here chatting away, I guess you haven't found much that goes bump yet, right?"
With his back turned, Chance could not see the electricity dancing in the fae’s eyes. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Chance barely had time to register the words when a searing bold of lightening crackled into his back causing his muscles to convulse in agony.
“You know, I’ll let you in on a little secret Chance, I always wondered just who would take who in a fight between us.” Darian smiled as he stalked forward. “I guess now I know.” On that note, the half-breed kicked the downed Chance as if he was punting a football. As the man flew from the force of the impact, the fae’s smile widened.
He fell to the ground and rolled painfully, muscles still aching from the electricity and now the pain of impact. "Darian..." Chance gasped, surprise and disbelief rolling off him in waves. His eyes locked onto the half-fae with the look of a man who has been betrayed and does not understand why. As the pain began to fade he managed to pull himself to his feet and stagger several steps backwards.
"Darian, what...are you doing? What are you talking about?"
“Come on, don’t tell me you never wondered the same thing? You’re telling me not once did you ever wonder just who was the better man between us?” As fast as the lightening he summoned, Darian leapt forwards, landing stylishly in front of the dazed White Hat and proceeded to backhand him with all his strength. Blood flew from Chance’s mouth as he once again reeled to the floor.
Lying on the floor, Chance took a deep breath and awaited Darian's next attack. It didn't come, and the brief respite of a few seconds was all he needed to throw off the shock and confusion and think. Something, obviously, had gone wrong. Not with him but with Darian. Had that damn - what was his name - Evexus broken free of his restraints and taken Darian's body again? That was just what he needed.
Chance rolled over and looked up pleadingly. Darian was looking down at him with a dark and menacing look. "Darian - please - stop. I don't understand why you're doing this."
There was a sick, sadistic look in Darian’s eyes as he looked down at his friend. With a vice like grip, his hand clenched around Chance’s neck. Slowly he lifted him from the ground. “Oh I think you do know why I’m doing this.”
Ah. Chance thought, looking into Darian's accusing eyes and realisation dawned. Yes, the half-fae was right. He did know exactly. There was no other reason the good-hearted Darian would attack him. His expression slowly hardened until it matched Darian's own and he spoke in a similarly cold tone. "Then you know that I'm going to have to kill you."
“There’s somebody out there, dear,” Ellis said, as he quickly got up from the bed and walked to the windows in the corner of the room. Alessa’s bedroom windows faced the ocean but he could feel the presence of something – maybe even more than one something – outside. It was impossible to see, but the flashes of lightening coming from the direction of the house’s entrance were clear enough. *Darian?* Ellis thought, as he fastened his robe and walked to the door, taking his guns from the vanity’s top in the last second. Whatever it was, the sense wasn’t nice.
“What?” Alessa asked, finally getting off her slumber. “Where are you going?”
“Stay here,” Ellis ordered before leaving the room.
“Like hell I will,” she muttered, jumping off the bed and following him. She could hear it now, sounds of fighting.
As Darian squeezed harder, Chance’s mind raced for a way to break free. He tried to kick, but the fae was relentless so the man had to turn to dirtier means of fighting. Bring his hand up, Chance proceeded to jab his thumb in his attacker’s eye –that broke the hold.
“There we go,” Darian roared as he stumbled back, his wicked smile still wide across his face. “Wouldn’t have been fun if you didn’t put up a fight!” He charged forwards, but struggled to land a single blow. Chance finally had his heart in the battle and now worked vigorously to combat the enraged fae.
"Come on, Darian!" Chance cried, almost laughing as he knocked aside a punch with his forearm. "You wanted to see who was the better man, right? Well, let’s find out." Having forced a gap in Darian's defence, Chance delivered a snap-kick into his ribs. "But then again, you're not really a man at all, are you?"
Alessa and Ellis erupted from the mansion’s door to witness Darian sending another ripple of lighting to Chance’s advancing body. Alessa just stared from the fae to her ex lover, a shaken expression in her eyes. *What the hell…*
“Darian!” she shouted, running towards the furious fae. She had never seen the fae like that, it was like his face was rippling, letting her see a monster beneath, and his eyes shone, a purple, deadly shine. “What does this mean, what demonios are you doing?”
“Alessa…” she heard Ellis speak at her side, his hand in her arm, but with a violent shrug she disentangled from his grip. All she could think of was that Chance was being attacked by that… thing *Is it Evexus, it’s gotta be Evexus* she thought, desperate.
“Get away from me Alessa!” he grunted, as he kept his eyes on his target.
Chance aimed a kick at the fae’s face, but Darian managed to grab hold of his foot. Pulling Chance forward, he delivered a vicious clothesline that almost took off Chance’s head. When he managed to get back to his feet, Darian had circled around him and unleashed another bolt of lightening.
Alessa and Ellis' sudden arrival had caused Chance to warily back off but he had quickly realised it was worse than it seemed. "Stay back!" He yelled, warningly, even as he staggered under Darian’s barrage. "I don't know how but Evexus has taken over his body! We have to stop him before he gets away - or kills us all." Collapsing to the floor, Chance waited until Darian ceased and moved in closer before leaping to his feet. He dived at the half-fae and the two fell to the floor, rolling and struggling.
Alessa just stared for a second, before morphing and leaping into the melee, as she heard Ellis’ muttered curse. She had never been good to follow orders, even less Chance’s orders. He needed her help and she was going to help. She tried to grab Darian’s shoulders, but the fae was slippery like a snake, and kept evading her, all the time attacking Chance.
“Alessa STOP!” Darian cried in anger, as he manoeuvred to avoid her and Chance at the same time. “Don’t you realize what’s going on?” A yelp of pain followed as one of Alessa’s huge claws dug into his shoulder. Without realizing what he was doing, Darian turned his attention on her. Rsssnaakk he slithered unconsciously, calling up an invisible force which sent the demoness flying away. He was so enraged now that it didn’t even occur to him that he had no idea how he used this foreign magic. All he cared about was taking care of Chance.
Chance used the distraction Alessa had expectedly caused to good advantage. He grabbed Darian by the shoulder and spun him round. Off-balance and distracted, Chance's punch knocked him to the ground. Dropping to the ground next to him, Chance reached into his jacket. Metal glinted off the light coming from inside Alessa's house.
Alessa yelped in pain as she hit the entrance stairs. For a couple of seconds she just stayed there, electricity running through her body. She could almost feel her fur curl with it. Then she watched Ellis run past her towards the entwined men, he had his gun in his hand and a determined expression in his eyes. She saw him reach Chance and press the gun to his temple.
“Drop that,” he said, his voice cold, watching intently as Chance’s hand stilled in the blade he was gripping. “I may be new to the White Hats, but that’s not the way they deal with their kind.”
Darian flipped up to a standing position as he backed away from the two men. “Yeah Chance” he let the word roll off his tongue sarcastically, “why don’t you tell them why it is you’re acting so strange.”
Freezing in place, Chance was suddenly aware of his mistake. I can't let him live. He repeated to himself over and over, even as he lowered the knife to the ground. Speaking to Ellis with barely restrained contempt he kept his gaze fixed on Darian. "You fool. He's trying to kill us all and you're pointing a gun at me? Shoot him already! Or do something!"
Ellis’ hand on his gun was steady as he watched the two men, his mind reaching out, trying to pick up their emotions. They were both magical beings, he could do it. Malice came off the two beings in waves and he flinched, but it was much more intense in the man besides him… and much more demonic. This wasn’t a man possessed. This was a one hundred percent demon.
“Who are you?” he asked, gripping his gun even more strongly.
"Who am I? Who am I?" Chance cried, outraged and also... desperate. He could feel control of the situation quickly slipping away from him. "What the hell is going on here? I'm Chance, you bloody idiot! Get that damn gun away from my head and at the damn dark fae trying to kill us!"
The gun didn't move. Chance considered Ellis Longwood briefly, but could think of no way the man could suspect him. Yet, there he was, pointing a gun at his head. Darian, of course, was out of the question. He was watching carefully from a short distance away, muscles tensed and ready to pounce. Which meant he had one last person he could try.
"Alessa," He cried, pleadingly, "Alessa, will you talk some sense into this fool?"
Alessa was getting up slowly from the ground. She wasn’t taking her eyes off the tableau in front of her, taking in the resolute expression in Ellis’ eyes, and the pleading tone in Chance’s voice. So strange. He had a knife in his hand, she hadn’t noticed it before, but so had Ellis and it was completely out of character that Chance had even considered using it on Darian – Evexus possessed or not.
She looked at the fae, and got a malicious smirk in response. There was something there, but there was something in Chance too.
“Why don’t you answer Ellis, Chance?” she asked, morphing back to human.
There was a small pause before he answered her - not much, just a slight hesitation. But as soon as Chance spoke he realised the damage had already been done. Ellis, at least, he was sure had picked up on it. "Because I shouldn't have to. I'm me, damnit." He turned imploring eyes towards Alessa, looking at her with the honest, roguish look that she knew so well. "Why can't any of you see that?"
“Don’t listen to him Alessa! I sensed it the second he walked through my door. Evexus had a hatred for Chance and every time I was near him Evexus would put a pit in my stomach…I didn’t get that pit when I saw this Chance. Then, I referred to when he saved Cole from Dathan…only problem was you never did save Cole from Dathan, I did!”
Alessa watched Darian, and back to Chance. She knew that face so well, and yet, it didn’t get to her. As his kisses and caresses hadn’t got to her. She just realized how blind she had been. “You aren’t Chance. Who are you?” she asked slowly.
The cat was well and truly out of the bag now. It didn't matter that Darian's 'evidence' was pretty flimsy, the seed of suspicion was in all their heads now. He'd have to convince them, regain their trust...no, it was all over. He hadn't got this far without knowing when to cut his losses. It was time to leave.
But he'd allow himself the small satisfaction of leaving with a bang.
Chance laughed. It started as a chuckle and slowly built until he was roaring with laughter. It wasn't Chance's laugh, though, but something else entirely. This was a menacing, smug, superior laugh that didn't fit him at all. The laugh ended abruptly, and a menacing, decidedly unChance look spread across his face as he looked back at Darian. "Well done, Darian, well done. Here I was thinking you were a blind, dim-witted retard like the rest of these bumbling 'White Hats' always one step behind the next calamity but no, you actually possess a shred of intelligence. Pity you don't have enough to stop yourself from making the same mistakes all over again, or to stop your friends from dying. Isn't it funny that friends die around you a lot? I wonder why that is..."
The malicious look turned away from the deflated Darian to Alessa. "Oh, and Alessandra? I can be whoever you want me to be."
And then all of a sudden they weren't looking at Chance. They were looking at Ellis. Two Ellis' to be exact. One was already diving onto the ground and kicking out, and the other one was shouting in surprise and pain, toppling over, his gun falling from his hand. Both saw it hit the ground and darted for it.
But Alessa was faster. She could pull that trick too, with a movement worthy of Mr. Fantastic, her right arm elongated as she jumped towards the gun, gripping it strongly and jumping back immediately, putting herself way out of reach. *Now what?* she asked herself, watching with narrowing eyes the couple of Ellis Longwoods in front of her.
They both glanced at each other and Alessa, then eyed the gun closely. Even Darian hesitated mid-leap, looking between the two confused.
"Alessa, what are you waiting for? Shoot him!" One pleaded, pointing at the other.
"Sod that!" The other shouted back, and then leapt at his double, knocking them both to the ground.
“Damn it!” she shouted, the gun in her hand forgotten as she frantically walked around the fighting men. The two men looked evenly matched, if the demon was stronger than the real Ellis he was taking care of not showing off. Alessa sniffed at the night’s air, there, the strange scent, not Ellis’ at all – but from which one? They were too close to discern. Alessa looked at Darian, who looked equally puzzled. “We’ve got to separate them!” she shouted.
Darian nodded and with grim determination dived in. He grabbed the first Ellis he came across by the shoulders and threw him to one side. Alessa quickly retrained the gun on him. The other he hauled to his feet and peered at closely, as if he could see through his skin and inside of him. "Ellis? Is that you?"
"Of course it’s bloody me!" Ellis gasped, looking over Darian's shoulder. "Keep an eye on him!"
Instinctively Darian looked round at the other Ellis, looking nervously up a gun barrel. This Ellis glanced at Darian and his eyes widened. "Look out!" He yelled, but too late. Darian felt something slam into the back of his neck and he completely let go of 'Ellis'. He felt like an idiot for falling for such a cheap trick and turned around to face the shape-shifter ready to take out his frustration.
He ended up turning to face himself.
"Well, Darian," the other Darian said a little too cheerfully, "we've seen how you fare against Chance. Now let’s see how you fare against yourself." The next thing Darian knew he was watching his reflection punching himself. It would have been surreal if it didn't hurt.
But now Alessa had seen which one was the real Darian; not taking her eyes off the fake one, she moved swiftly to his side. For all his bragging, he hadn’t shown so much strength, at least not the kind of strength real Chance had had. With a high jump, she kicked him flat on his face, making him stagger away from the fae.
The fake Darian put his hands to his face. They came away bloody. He looked up in time to see the butt of the pistol whistling through the air to his head and then he saw stars. When his vision cleared again he was lying flat on his back, looking up at Darian, Ellis and Alessa - who still had the gun. Pointed at him.
All three watched with something approaching morbid interest as they watched a bloodied Darian's eyes dart from side to side, searching for some escape or angle. They could see him take everything in and reject it as useless. Then they weren't looking at Darian at all. They were looking at a bloodied and battered Chance.
He shakily and slowly pulled himself to his feet, holding out one arm palm up to ward them back. But he was looking at Alessa. "Please, don't. Don't do this. Don't kill me. You can't kill me, can you? Please, Alessa. Can you really kill me?"
“You aren’t Chance,” she answered, but her lips trembled and her voice lacked resolution.
"But I look like him, don't I?" Chance said, stepping closer to her now. Both Ellis and Darian moved in but he ignored them both. "I look just like him, and I sound like him, and that's why you can't kill me. You can bury me, love, move on to another man," the gun was pressed right up against his chest now and he nodded his head towards Ellis, "and try to forget me, but you can't kill me. And you certainly tried to forget me, didn't you? You didn't wait long before leaping into his bed for a start. Just how long after I died did you actually have a funeral? Did you even mourn? Did any of you?" He looked accusingly at Darian. The half-fae's gaze flickered and he looked away. "I wonder what the real Chance thinks about that?"
The gun shook against Chance’s chest. All the doubts of the past couple of days passed through her mind, and she almost sobbed. She looked into his eyes, those blue, blue eyes, they were his eyes. But then she noticed the smirk in them, and she straightened. “I did mourn Chance,” she said and her voice was firm. “I loved him… not you. You are nothing to me.”
'Chance' leaned in closer and spoke quietly and slowly. "If that's true, then why don't you pull the trigger? You know I'm not him. Even you must have worked out by now that I'm not just here for a laugh. I'm a danger to you all. I could be anyone. So why won't you do it?" He chuckled. "I'll tell you why. Because you're weak. You're not prepared to do what's necessary even when you know you should. And one of these days one of those loose ends is going to come back and kill you." With his half-smile, 'Chance' turned and started walking away.
Alessa looked him walk away, her hand in the gun trembling again. “I'm not a murdered,” she said softly to his retreating back. “It’s not weakness…”
Ellis watched the exchange with growing impatience. He could see where the demon was going, he was playing with her emotions, as he had since he’d come back. And he had just threatened to kill her. Taking the gun from Alessa’s hand, Ellis stepped forward. “Hey you!” he shouted.
“She’s not weak. It’s not weakness to care,” he levelled the gun to the demon’s eyes, and watched him blanch. “I'm different, though. I don’t like ‘loose ends’, even less loose ends that threaten to kill the people I love. But I'm not a murderer, either.” Reaching inside his robe’s pocket, Ellis took his second gun. “Here, take this.”
'Chance' eyed the gun suspiciously. "What are you doing?"
“Don’t you have westerns in hell land?”
He reached out and took the weapon slowly, as if he expected it to do something it shouldn't. "You really trust me to play by your rules?"
Ellis shrugged. “I want this to end.”
With the weapon in his hand, 'Chance' looked down at it for a long time. They could all see him - a demon of mischief and disguise - suddenly coming to terms with the concept of honour.
Unfortunately, old habits die hard. Ellis received a flash of malice but not in time to do anything other than uselessly start to aim. Alessa and Darian both saw Chance swing the gun up at Ellis' face and moved even though they knew they wouldn't be quick enough. Even as they sprung Chance fired.
About half a second later, an unharmed Ellis shot him in the head. He stepped over to the corpse and kicked his other gun to one side - his gun that wasn't loaded.
But Chance was gone. In his place was a small, fallen figure with a hole in his forehead and a bewildered, pained look in his eyes. He could have been mistaken for a human child of seven or eight except for the fact that he had no distinguishing features. In fact, besides two small eyes, a small hole for a mouth and two smaller holes for a nose he had no features at all. There was not a hair on his body, nor a freckle or a spot.
“Did you know the gun wasn’t loaded?” Alessa asked, sighing as she held her lover strongly.
“It would have if he’d played by the rules.” He answered, and opened his hand, showing Alessa the bullets in his palm.
Mid-Season Four: June 8, 2007 - September 30, 2007
Lone Peak Psychiatric Clinic,
LA
July 26th
"Roxana!" Morris cried out. "Roxana! Roxana! Roxana!" Again and again he yelled at the walls, at the door, as if his cries could transcend the physical world and seek her out. But she did not come. For hours he cried and yelled and shouted. Still she did not come. In the end Morris collapsed in the middle of the commons room, right next to the pit he had dug to sacrifice Cole. And he sobbed. He was alone again.
After a time, two others came to join him. They stood over him and wept, too, although they didn't know why other than that Morris was crying. At last, when Morris had finished, he looked up at their tearful, vampiric faces.
"What...what do we do now?" One of them asked at length - time had no meaning to any of them.
Morris rose to his feet and turned to face the wall. "We carry on as before...When we are done, she will return to us."
The two vampires nodded - even though neither of them knew who 'she' was.
"We will need strength." Morris continued, turning to look at one of the vampires. "You know what to do." The creature of the night nodded and stepped out of the room. The other remained, impassively watching Morris return to his work. As for himself, the vampire had already forgotten his presence.