*** Aug 6, 2005 ***
There is darkness. There is pain. There is evil. These things I recognize because I am these things. I feel the movements of the trulls above me. It has been a long time and the trulls have built many things above me. It is a marvel that they have built.
I can feel the sprawl of their village...it reaches into the landscape like a hard scab that holds the flesh of the countryside together. I can feel the trulls of all kinds. The gentle innocents. The hard violent ones. Even the ancient ones like myself but younger...much younger. They are all trying to make a life in the scab.
Scabs heal. They slough off and become one more bit of dust in the earth. I am the dust. I am where all scabs end up. And I am awake again. I look farther into the land and see a closed hellmouth. I see madness, chaos and disbelief.
I am going to have fun here. The trulls do not remember, otherwise they would have kept the ancient places clean. They cannot imagine what will happen or they would still have champions and guardians in place. They will remember soon enough. I am awake and they are the ones who are sleeping.
***
Mrs. White's apartment had been converted weeks ago into an office. The phone lines and DSL connections were in place and the knick-knacks had been thinned down to a point where most people assumed the small apartment was a reception area.
Victor scratched his head at the tangle of wires behind the desk and the arcane symbols that Ian was typing on the screen. "Are you sure it will work okay? I don't know anything about how to fix these things...much less use them," said Victor.
Ian chuckled, "Come on, Victor, it's time for you to get wired! There's no shame in not knowing but I find it hard to believe that a guy as young as you hasn't had to use these since he was a kid in school."
Victor smiled uneasily. "I grew up in Europe, they aren't as advanced as the States," he lied. Ian had expressed this same sort of curiosity at Victor's discomfort before. Truth was, the technology scared Victor, and it was more obscure than black magic to him.
There was a quiet knock on the door. A young woman stood there in a white tee shirt that showed her midriff. Her tight black slacks accentuated her shapely legs, and the tiny nose stud drew attention to her very attractive face.
"Is this the place looking for the receptionist?" she asked.
Ian gracelessly stood up and tripped on the office chair rushing to greet her, but Victor deftly cut him off and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said, "My name is Victor. What's your name?"
"Henna," she said, "I am here about the job."
Ian was behind Victor making an ass of himself by waggling his eyebrows and winking at her, and she looked down in embarrassment. Victor stepped back and deliberately applied most of his 450 lbs to Ian's toes. He escorted her in and invited her to sit on the sofa where Ian hopped quickly to sit beside her.
The interview was short, and Henna was quick to assure Victor she knew about stocks, property management, computers, messages, and everything he was looking for. She had been working in the billing and customer service industry for her mother's online stocks business since she was 13. Even at 23, she was a veteran of managing volatile companies.
She left with a job, and Victor was quick to talk to Ian (who was trying to follow her out the door). "When are you going home?" asked Victor.
Ian opened his mouth and decided that he didn't want to push it. "Tonight," he replied.
***
That night there was a noise in the basement. A young figure of a girl walked slowly up the stairs. She looked around the corner from the basement stair and seeing the coast was clear, strolled out into the hallway. Her tight tee shirt was clean and white, and her dark slacks and tiny nose stud accentuated her best features.
She looked into the office and patted the electronic box. Its secrets were open to her, and she held her hand there for just a moment longer as information about the trulls of this new age flowed through her.
She smiled and closed her eyes. One bit of information interested her. Henna. A name, a phone number, a residence.
****
Henna walked around the small efficiency apartment in her workout bra and bicycle shorts. She had already slid the compact folding stair machine under the bed. She sat on the corner of the bed, drinking her spring water with one hand and clicked on the television with the other.
She was glad she had this great job. Now she could really get something accomplished. They had a sweet setup there, and she didn't think they would mind if she ran a small web business on their computer while she was doing work for them. It was only bandwidth and they had more than they needed.
She stopped flipping channels, and flipped back a couple of clicks. She had seen something that caught her eye. The channel looked like a cheesy horror flick from the 70's with huge crowds of cave people fleeing across the savannah from some unseen evil.
There were a few that stood their ground and huge misshapen horrors came and engulfed them. Henna wasn't sure why she was watching this particular program...it wasn't her usual fare of E! or VH1.
She thought it must have been the special effects. They were better than anything Lucasfilm ever produced. She didn't have a HDTV (she was saving up for it) but it was sharp and crisp.
Real. It seemed real. That was it totally. She set down the water and the remote. She approached the set and extended a hand. *This is crazy!* she thought. *This is like some sort of weird movie.*
As her fingers touched the screen and felt only hard glass, her skin stopped prickling. She breathed again (not realizing until just then she had been holding her breath). She stood up.
As she turned around, she saw the young girl sitting on the corner of the bed with the 3lb free weight in one hand and the bottle of water in the other. She smiled at her and dentist-white teeth flashed an evil smile.
Henna barely registered that she was seeing herself before the 3lb weight smacked her in the face, and she didn't get to see the end of the movie. Ever again.
The doppelganger stood over Henna's slim form, thankful that it would not have to clean up blood. Not that it minded cleaning up blood, it's just that lots of blood led to embarassing questions. She dragged the fit body into the bathroom and proceded to insert the real jewelry where only the appearance had been before. Over the next few hours the colorful tattoos faded from the tan skin and appeared on the skin of the clone.
She was a good one. The markings that made her unique had power. She especially liked the "sensual" rune on her lower back. It felt warm and sexy. The rings and baubles each held memories and skills. The ring in her belly button gave her knowledge of movements and combat. The stud in her nose told her stories of places and the thrulls that inhabited them.
The shamans had worn such things. Earplugs and tattoos of power made them unique and guarded their selves against the evil. But they were applied with care, with prayer and with protection. These little things were carelessly applied. They did not protect anything. That was a change it liked.
Tomorrow it would work. It would do menial things while it scouted around. The markings and decorations would disguise it as one of the thrulls. Even the sensitive ones would not know.
When it was time the others would come. Whole armies of them would come forth from the dust and swallow this scab.
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Another miraculous escape
Friday 12th August, 2005 – 1am
Ian lay sprawled across the bed, his head hanging down over the far side. The room was a mess. Furniture was overturned, clothes were strewn everywhere. He vaguely remembered coming to the girl’s apartment and rebounding from the coffee table to the chair before getting down to business. He raised one hand to brush away whatever was tickling his face. It was a lacy mauve bra that was hooked over one of his ears. It belonged to the girl… *Damn, what’s her name again? Lucy? Linda? Something like that.*
He dropped the bra onto the floor, where it landed next to the empty whiskey bottle and his discarded shirt. Then Ian lifted his head and peered up through his drunken stupor to see what had awoken him. The girl’s scent (*Lyn? Louise?*) was still strong on him, so he figured he must have only just dozed off.
His gaze finally focused on the cherubic face of a young boy. Some small part of Ian’s brain that wasn’t yet pickled told him that lying naked in the presence of a kid was probably not a good idea so he groped blindly, finally managing to draw the cover over himself just enough for basic decorum. His neck muscles were threatening to give out, so he twisted slightly and propped his head on one hand. The overall effect was still considerably less than dignified, but at this point it was the best he could manage.
“Whassup? Who’re you?” he managed to slur.
The kid leaned forward and flashed pearly white teeth that stood out starkly against his dusky skin. “I’m looking for someone who used to live around here. I’ve heard you know where she lives now.”
Ian simply blinked at him, so the boy continued. “Her name is Natasha Brookes.” He leaned even closer, his face hovering above Ian’s bare chest. “Where is she now?”
Ian was growing distinctly uncomfortable at the boy’s proximity. He wondered if this was something Leanne (or was it Leah?) had organised. He’d have to make it clear to her that he was only interested in women, not boys. Slowly the kid’s words filtered through to his dazed brain.
“Huh? Tash? Uh, she’s not in St. Louis any more. Moved out a while back.” Ian nodded sagely, “Yeah, you won’t find her here…”
Deon sighed, exasperated. He’d left a trail of corpses to get to this guy. He was determined to get some answers before he drained this loser dry. He tried again, annunciating each word. “Where. Is. She. Now?”
Ian envisioned the brownstone. *The Poplar Avenue place doesn’t look half bad now that Victor has renovated it. But best not to give away too much. Tash would kill me if she doesn’t want this kid to find her.* He was more scared of her than this boy. Yeah, he’d call her tomorrow and let her know. If he remembered.
“Uh, all I know is she’s gone to California. Maybe L.A. Don’t know beyond that, sorry.” Ian tried to smile charmingly, but his arm finally gave way and his head flopped back and bounced lightly on the bed.
A glint came to Deon’s eyes. He knew Ian was lying, but that was OK. He had enough information. He figured he could find Tash now. He drew back and composed his features into a mask of innocence again before Ian raised his head once more.
Deon began, “Thanks so much,” and was about to launch himself at Ian to feed deeply, when a small sound at the door alerted him.
By the time the door was flung back violently, Deon was nowhere to be seen. Ian looked around, thinking he must have drifted off and missed seeing the kid leave when his field of view was filled with the bulk of a red-faced man.
This was something he understood. Kids asking questions when he’d just maybe had sex with a girl was disturbing. Upset boyfriends and husbands were things he was more than familiar with. He didn’t wait for the man to start yelling, but rolled off the bed and even managed to snag his shirt and trousers. He clutched them to his chest with one hand and staggered to his feet. His head spun and his stomach rebelled, but adrenaline overrode the alcohol and as the man dove over the bed to grapple him, he ran around the foot of the bed and towards the open door.
“You bastard! Lauren’s mine! I’ll fucking kill you!”
*Lauren! That was it.* Ian didn’t pause but ran out the door and down the stairs, not caring about the rest of the clothes he’d left. Not even caring that he was still quite naked. He did wonder where Lauren had got to during all of this, but at least he’d avoided another pummelling. It sounded like the man wasn’t bothering to follow him.
Lauren’s boyfriend stood before the doorway, panting. His way was blocked by a pipsqueak black kid. He raised a meaty paw to bat the obstruction aside, but Deon had other ideas. It was a pity the drunk had got away, but Deon expected that Ian wouldn’t be back here at all. On the other hand, he couldn’t let this gorilla find his girlfriend’s body.
In a fit of artistry, Deon arranged the boyfriend’s corpse on the bed, and collected Lauren from the bathroom. She’d hastily donned a silk wrap to answer Deon’s knock at the door earlier and it had fallen open when he drank her. Deon decided he liked the effect and left it that way as he laid her out beside her lover. He stood back to admire his handiwork, and ran a finger up his chin and into the corner of his mouth, sucking it clean of a trickle of blood. *Hmm, I love it when they’re really angry. Gives it such a sweet taste.*
He didn’t want the police to track down Ian Pollock, who might remember the visit from the strange boy, so Deon carefully collected all of Ian’s discarded things before leaving.
*Next stop, Poplar Avenue, Los Angeles.*
Friday - 10am
Kate slumped down on the sofa and yawned tiredly. She felt like she hadn’t slept at all last night, she was so tired. Her eyes dipped slightly and she snuggled down into the cushions just for a moment…
She awoke with a start. Looking at the clock Kate realised she had been asleep for nearly two hours! Still she didn’t feel any more rested; if anything she felt more tired than she had before. Sighing, Kate made her way into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. She was about to take a sip when she suddenly felt very sick. Her mouth went dry and she could taste something really horrid in the back of her throat. Metallic, coppery, almost like blood.
The feeling didn’t go away until Kate ran into the bathroom and was violently sick. As she rinsed her mouth out she glanced in the mirror. She looked really pale; her eyes were rimmed with dark circles. *If I looked so bad earlier this morning no wonder Galen was worried about leaving me!* she thought glumly. *Maybe I’m coming down with some kind of virus.*
Kate wandered back to the kitchen and picked up the cup of coffee, taking it into the bedroom while she slowly got dressed. She was supposed to be going to call on Daye again, but with the way she was feeling at the moment she decided against it.
*I’ll see her tomorrow,* she thought tiredly, pulling on her shirt. *Or if not tomorrow, after the weekend, maybe Monday, or perhaps later in the week. Yeah, that would be better. If I can get some sleep maybe I’ll feel better. Besides, if something was wrong Daye would call me, right?* Kate picked up her jacket as she locked the door to Galen’s apartment and walked down the stairs to the lobby. *Daye is fine, I know it. Everything will be fine. I don’t know why I’m so worried.*
With that final thought running through her mind Kate stepped out into the already crowded street and held out her arm to hail a passing cab.
Friday - noon
Galen tossed the report on the desk in his office before rubbing his temples and trying to focus. Not for the first time, he considered trying to call Kate again to see how she was doing. The only thing stopping him from doing so was the consideration that he knew the office phone was being listened to. Her sleepless look that morning could not be banished from his mind no matter how he tried to focus and work. *She was probably right, it’s nothing,* he thought.
A familiar face appeared as the door opened, causing Galen to groan inwardly. Henry, the office prankster, was one of those men who couldn’t take anything seriously. He only remained employed by the Bureau because he was one of the best organizers around. Good administrators were hard to come by. “So, boss, are the rumors true?” he asked rather unceremoniously.
Drumming his fingers on the desk impatiently, Galen looked up at the man in the doorway. “Which rumors would those be?”
“You know, you know,” Henry shot back playfully while dropping down in the chair. Galen had quickly learned it was useless to complain when he did such things, and he would (eventually) get around to the point. “Showing up all satisfied or concerned at work… actually turning off your phone… not going to Maxim’s alone. So, does the boss have a girl or what?”
“Screw you, Henry.” How did he know? Which was when Galen remembered Henry’s constant jokes about a skill called 'remote viewing'. Maybe he wasn’t kidding about that.
“Sorry, sir, but I think she’s doing enough of that to keep you in a good mood over the past few days.” He knew when to stop teasing the boss, which saved his job more than once. “That specialist is here you asked for. Want me to send him in?”
Galen nodded as Henry left, taking an aspirin quickly before the woman from the LAPD he'd met with earlier entered. Her ID was false, naturally. “Thank you for coming,” Galen said, motioning for her to sit. “Have you looked over that report?”
“Yes, I have,” the woman said, sitting down. “Spoke with Tony about it, and we came up with some possible theories. Tony is quite fond of the idea that the body is explained as being from a parallel world or dimension of some sort. He thinks it’s possible, given the right mystical conditions, for a crossover of that sort to occur.”
“What are the other possibilities?”
“As always, something new, something we haven’t seen before. There are also certain spells that can be used to clone individuals – if someone tried to perfect those, they wouldn’t want the copy running around. Mistaken identity is another possibility, though that wouldn’t explain the fingerprints. Then there’s-“
“Enough,” Galen said, considering everything she had said. For a moment, he considered opening a wider investigation, then rejected the idea. They didn’t have the resources to even learn about more than 20 to 30 percent of what went on in the other world, much less investigate it. There wasn’t anything about this case to make it look worthwhile to expend a great deal of effort in investigating it.
Still, the bodies in the same place with the lack of marks was interesting. “Bury the case quietly,” Galen told her, knowing it would be passed on to the responsible agent. “If the press gets wind of this, don’t bother with a cover story. Deny everything.” Lack of resources constrained their options at this point. Should more bodies begin showing up, an investigation could be justified. The woman nodded and left, leaving Galen to return to his mountain of paperwork.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Friday, 12th August 2005 – 2pm
Tash looked at the bent street sign. Bundy Drive. Well, this should be where that new store had opened up. She'd been hearing whispers about it. Obviously it wasn't terribly legitimate, but at least it sounded a shade more reputable than the dodgy arms dealership that ran out of the Beazor Complex.
The entire street was fronted by nondescript warehouses, all looking much the worse for wear. A sign plastered to the wall of one stood out for its newness. The sun actually managed to glint off it a little in this otherwise dingy street.
*The Armoury. This must be it.* Tash frowned, *I wonder why they used the English spelling?*
She pushed open the double doors and peered into the interior. *Yep, this is the place.* The doors opened near the left wall of the warehouse, and a long counter ran across the width of the room. Thick glass, which Tash assumed to be shatterproof at least, enclosed the counter area.
The pounding rhythm of Smashing Pumpkins filled the large room, and the blonde shop girl was either dancing or was having trouble with parasites. Tash walked the distance to the counter and began to peruse the weapons displayed behind the glass. She wasn't really shopping for anything specific, but it was always good to see what was available. You never knew...
It had been three days since that god-awful pick up. Reah shuddered every time she walked under the spot upstairs where Joe kept Darling as though she was constantly able to feel her presence. The feeling had subsided a bit on Thursday, but came back ten fold when Joe informed her as soon as she walked in the door this morning that Darling would be moved downstairs into the store as soon as a specially made casement was finished and able to be put up. *That thing in the store. Eeuuuch!* At least Joe was nice enough to let her install a sound system into the store - out of her own money of course - as a compromise.
She was pleased with her buy; she loved her music. *Surround sound! The only way to go.* She smiled - it kept her mind off Darling. Smashing Pumpkins’ greatest hits CD was playing now over the speakers that connected to the player kept in the blades room. She danced around to it as she went along checking the staffs, pulling one out of its rack she twirled it around in her hands and moved further into the practise area.
She was about to flow into her motions as she turned around when she noticed a well built African American woman with extremely short-cropped black hair browsing along the counter top. She was wearing a light jacket and Reah smiled, *Trying to conceal the shoulder holster.*
She didn’t worry too much about that fact. They got a lot of people in here with guns. Joe had predicted the likelihood of this happening and had told her he had taken care of the situation. He hadn’t told her how, but she didn’t really worry nevertheless; this woman didn’t seem out to harm her. She was wearing cargo shorts as well. There was something in the pockets; she wasn’t sure what. It was possible that they were weapons, but Reah doubted they were knives, *Lest she wanted to lose them through her pants.*
She frowned when she noticed the gloves on the woman’s hands behind her back, *What the…? Gloves? In this heat?* She shrugged, *Oh well, seen stranger!*
She went to place the staff back on the rack, then decided against it, *Can’t be too careful.* She casually held it so she wouldn’t alarm the woman, and strode up beside her, “Are you all right there?” She put on her most pleasant voice.
Tash left off looking at the collection of hunting knives beneath the glass-topped counter and turned her attention to the girl. Tash had seen her approach from the corner of her eye, and decided that the staff was simply for the girl to feel better.
*Though she does move like someone who's had a bit of training.* Tash's eyes flicked to the sparring area at the front of the shop, then rested back on the young woman.
"I'm mostly just looking, really. Though it occurs to me that I might be interested in what you have by way of archery supplies." Tash graced the girl with her most disarming smile.
The woman turned around and smiled at Reah. She knew that smile. She found you got it a lot in this business. “Well, we actually have a range of short ranged bows, long bows and I think we even have a couple of crossbows.”
She gestured to the wall above the column of shelves, “This isn’t our whole range over here, but I can get some down if you wanted to have a closer look!” *How many times did I want to say range? Sheesh!*
“The arrows for the individual types of bows, or ones you may prefer, are all just here under the counter and labelled to help you. Another thing we do is stock arrowheads, shafts, and feathers, if you want feathers, to be sold individually for people who like to customise their own… I personally prefer to customise my own; that way I get exactly what I want. We also stock casings for both the arrows and bows, both shoulder strap and the type that rest on the waist.”
She thought for a moment, and took a breath before continuing on, “We also have all your other usual accessories, like wrist guards and whatever, but I think I’m giving you a bit of an information overload.”
She sniffed silently and chuckled. She’d only just managed to get those last few words to follow off her tongue without getting tangled up. “They’re all over here anyway on the shelves.” She paused with an amused smile on her face and watched the woman’s reaction to her sudden flood of information.
Tash was feeling a little breathless just listening to the stream of words issuing from the shop girl's mouth. She found herself trying to place the accent. It sounded a little like Ian’s, but not quite. *Maybe she’s from a different part of New Zealand?*
It took Tash a moment to realise that the woman had stopped speaking and was looking at her expectantly. "Well, what I was considering was getting myself a new crossbow. My current one has a draw of 150 lbs and I find that works well for me. What do you have that might be suitable?"
*Nice!* Reah thought, nodding in appreciation when the woman finally answered, she liked getting customers who knew what they were about; it left fewer answers she had to probe for.
“Well the one we have on display up there isn’t exactly the type you’d be after. It only has a draw weight of 50,” she shrugged. They kept only a weaker crossbow on display - on the chance that they might be robbed, the thieves would only take something that looked nice, but wouldn’t do as much damage.
“But we do have one that I think you may like. It’s a Hawk SL, with a draw weight of 150, and it’s lightweight and well balanced, always a bonus. It’s around the back if you’d like me to go get it for you and you can have a feel of it? Although I'm pretty confident that it's what you’re after."
Reah smiled, *Hm! Being helpful is just as nice as killing vampires!*
As the girl mentioned the Hawk, Tash nodded. She'd heard of it - one of the Horton range. The Horton bows were recognised as some of the best ever made. She was in the process of opening her mouth to say she'd like to test it out, when the girl’s thought hit her. She faltered for a second, but her instincts took over and she carried on as though she'd heard nothing.
"Yes, please. I've heard good things about the Horton bows. I'd love to try the Hawk." She nodded her head towards the sparring area, "Do you have a target we could set up there?"
The girl nodded and disappeared into the back area to get the bow and presumably the target. Tash stared at her retreating back, thinking. She'd not only heard the thoughts, she'd received a brief picture of this blonde girl brutalising a vampire, blinding it before finally despatching it with a stake. *Wow, and I thought I had a thing about vampires.*
Reah returned from the blades room with the crossbow grasped in her right fist and balancing a dartboard over her left shoulder. The CD track changed and ‘Bullet with Butterfly Wings’ started to play. She rolled her eyes at the intro, but couldn’t help but hum along to the depressing beat. She liked it either way.
“Here she is!” she announced as she entered the store front, “One Horton Hawk as you requested, and,” she flipped the dart board over, “a dartboard!”
She grinned and handed the crossbow carefully over to the woman. She had already loaded it when she picked it up, the safety guard on of course, then proceeded to walk over to the wall. She hooked up the board on a hook that was already specially placed from previous games of darts, then straightened it out of habit before turning back to watch the woman and stepped aside. “Fire at will,” she smiled, trying to make amusing comments that weren’t quite jokes.
Tash accepted the bow and carefully checked the settings. *Oh, wow, it even has a trajectory compensator. Nifty!* Once the girl was safely out of the way, Tash put the bow to her shoulder. She held it there for a second, then lowered the bow and fiddled with the adjustable stock. Placing it once more to her shoulder, she smiled. *That's better.*
The distance to the target was a mere 15 metres and as Tash sighted down the bow she remarked, "I hope you don't plan on using that dartboard ever again..."
She fired the bolt, smacking the dartboard slightly up and to the right of centre. Tash nodded, fiddled with the crossbow a little more and placed a fresh bolt in the channel. She drew and sighted, then fired again. This time the bolt thudded into the board along the middle line, but a fraction low. A third adjustment produced a bolt protruding from the board almost perfectly in the bulls-eye.
Tash smiled and looked across to the girl. "Yep, I like this one. In my line, I need a bow that's extremely accurate."
Reah nodded in agreement. She loved the Hawk; her own wasn’t quite as good, but it still did the trick. *Not that bad with it herself! Hm… we do need a new dartboard. Oh well, ‘It was required for customer assistance!’ Joe can replace it.* She grinned. “I hear that!” she thought aloud to herself, then frowned, *Her line of work?* She glanced sideways at the dark skinned woman. She tried to keep her curiosity at bay, but alas as usual it didn’t work.
“Um… I don’t mean to sound… sticky, or intrusive… but if you don’t mind me asking, what is your line of work?” She could just see the woman shoot a bolt at her next for butting in on her own business, *Hell I wouldn’t tell! But then again what am I supposed to say? ‘Um yes, well! I hunt vampires for a living because I hate the bastards!’ Damn it, Reah! Mind your own business!*
Tash knew she was giving the assistant a very strange look, but she couldn’t help it. The crossbow dangled in one hand as she decided what to say. The girl - who called herself Reah, it seemed - had thoughts that rang clear as a bell on the subject of vampires.
Nobody else was in this shop section of the converted warehouse, so Tash drew a deep breath. "Well, let's just say that certain elements of society are rather less human than they might seem. I think you know what I'm talking about." Tash drew one of her stakes from a pocket briefly before replacing it.
She held out her free hand, "My name's Tash."
Reah blinked in surprise. She would have understood a bolt through her head more than that! *Honest person!* she nodded to herself in thought, before looking wondrously back up to the woman who all but introduced herself to a total stranger as a vampire hunter. *Well it seems I’m definitely not a one-person army in this city! How many other vampire hunters are there here? Is there some little club?*
She took Tash’s hand, shaking it firmly, “Reah.” A small smile slowly developed back onto her face as she introduced herself, “Good to meet you!”
She then remembered her job and the crossbow, “Uh…sorry. Did you want to buy the Hawk?” she asked, then chuckled shaking her head slightly, “I’m sorry, I just really didn’t expect that! Forgive me?”
Tash smiled at Reah's consternation. "Well, I just had a feeling that you might be inclined along the same lines as me. Sorry if I startled you with the revelation. And yes, I think I would like the Hawk."
Tash took a long look at Reah, noting her aura carefully. No black. That was a given. She'd have noticed any black right off. There was nothing terribly out of the ordinary there. No blue of magic ability. No purple. Plenty of red anger, though.
She bit her lip, "Just one thing, though. And please don't answer this if you don't want to. But why do you do it? It's dangerous. It's lonely." Tash absently rubbed at the crook of her left elbow. "And you run the very real risk of being turned."
Reah breathed in heavily at the question, trying to guard herself and think of a way to answer it at the same time. *But what’s left to guard? Damn it! Where’s the bolt, it’s starting to sound good.*
“Well,” she began, then paused, making sure what she said wasn’t going to land her it unpleasantness, "I don’t really see what else I have to live for other than trying to save others from the pain of losing the same as what I have.”
She paused in thought. “Keep them from losing themselves,” she added in a near whisper. Visions of the normal days when vampires and demons were nothing but a myth ran through her mind.
She banished the memories and brought herself back to reality, “So um… yeah! I hate them.” She pulled on a smile, “Good to see I’m not the only one.”
The crossbow was still in Tash’s grip, “Oh yeah! You wanted it right?” She made her way back to the security doors, swiping her card and punching her code, admitting herself behind the counter and to the cash register. She punched in the sale then turned back to Tash on the opposite side, “It’s $550 for the Hawk, I’m sure you’ll love it and put it to good use.” She winked, “Did you want to pay by cash, card or cheque?”
Tash watched in bemusement as Reah buried her feelings deep within herself and lost herself in the mundane. *Well, fair enough. Not everyone wants to dig up the past. It's not like I've had much joy doing so lately.*
She walked to her side of the counter and leaned against it. "No, you aren't the only one," she said softly.
She straightened, glancing down at the boxes of ammunition beneath the glass. "Hmm, it'll go on the card - and I'll have a couple of boxes of 10mm ammo as well, thanks. And do you have wooden bolts here? Even a wood core will do," Tash grinned.
Soon Reah was bagging Tash's purchases. Not only did they have wooden bolts, they had different types of wood to choose from. Delighted, Tash chose oak. As Reah was swiping her credit card, Tash picked up a business card from beside the register and wrote her phone number on the back. Passing it to Reah, she said, "If you ever need help, just call. Any time, day or night."
Reah grinned. Her phone number collection was growing, and it was nice to know she wasn't alone in this town. "Will do." She looked at the business cards and picked one up herself, chuckling, and handed it to Tash.
"And vice versa," she welcomed. "By the way, I gave you the Hawk for $500 - I know it's going to good hands. Plus we had a special on bullets; buy one round of 50, get another free!"
She reached below the counter, pulled out a cap gun and popped it in the bag, "Just for fun. Take care, and happy hunting. Maybe I'll bump into you!"
She smiled, pleased with herself, *I seem to be getting better at this socialising business!*
Tash hefted the bag of bolts and ammo in one hand, and the crossbow case with the other. "Thanks, Reah. And I'm out every night, so we may well run into each other. But please remember, sometimes it's good to have backup. I'm only a phone call away."
She turned to leave the shop. "Take care yourself," she called over her shoulder as she pushed aside the heavy doors.
For some reason, she found herself whistling as she walked down the street.
A Minor Setback
***AUGUST 12, 2005 - 10:17pm***
Galen stopped the car rented under a false identity two blocks from the hospital, close enough to reach it quickly should something go wrong but far enough away not to attract attention. The data contained in the Lazarus files had led him to Dr. Sara Anderson, an administrator of one of L.A.’s hospitals. It was fortunate he hadn’t had to waste time casing it out, as it was the same one he visited after the incident with the Cloch Cosan. All of the data pointed to her as being a central coordinator in the area, which would explain the documents he was able to get.
He was dressed in black pants, blue shirt, and white lab coat with hair slicked back. A name tag identified him as Carl Lowenstein, M.D. Anyone who saw the man approaching the hospital would think that he was just a late-night member of the staff taking a walk.
Galen paused to look around as he entered the garage. As he picked the lock to the side entrance and slipped in, he was well aware that he had crossed another line. Intercepting the package could be seen as a simple mistake based on bad information, albeit suspicious. This could not. When he turned the hall, he came across a security guard. “Good evening, doctor,” the guard said, noticing the name tag. “Are you the neurosurgeon they sent for?”
“Yes, I am,” he said quickly, hoping this guard would not be in contact with the real one. “Just a bit lost.”
“That’s understandable. Well, to get to surgery, just go down this hall, turn right, then the third left, and another right.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a great help.” Galen started down the hall without saying anything else, resisting the urge to glance over his shoulder. He took the right turn so as not to arouse suspicion, quickly finding an elevator. It took several minutes for the elevator to arrive, during which Galen could feel his pulse racing.
His mind turned back to earlier in the evening and his attempt to improve Kate’s mood over dinner. She had picked up on his nervousness about the night, but taken the hint from his paranoid look and not talked directly about the project. Although she wanted to go with him, he had been steadfast in his refusal. Finally Galen found a compromise position. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll stop by or call your place once the coast is clear, let you know how it turned out.”
Bing. The elevator doors opening brought Galen’s mind back to the present. Now, where was the administrator’s office again? Moments later, the doors shut and began their ascent to the seventh floor.
******
Downstairs in the lobby, a well dressed woman entered the hospital. An attractive blonde woman with looks that could stop a man cold, she was used to being underestimated. The ‘dumb blonde’ stereotype carried over into all professions, which gave her the edge to reach her present position. A redhead walked behind her, and the two were chatting.
“You would not believe all the crap we’ve had to put up with to get that new equipment for radiology,” the blonde was saying. “Good evening, Phil,” she said to the same security guard who met Galen.
“Good evening, Dr. Anderson,” Phil replied, pleased to see her. The two got along quite well.
“Well,” she said, turning to the redhead. “You’d better get along to surgery. They’re expecting you there shortly.”
“Surgery?” Phil asked, a little confused. “I thought the neurosurgeon already got here. Just passed him in the hall….”
Sara raised an eyebrow. She had heard about the packages disappearing, so maybe the person who had them followed the trail to her. It was a good thing she'd moved the documents from her office. “Call the police, and get guards at the exits,” she said. “We have an intruder.”
“But who would want to break in here?”
“Just do it!”
******
The door to Anderson’s office opened slowly. Galen turned the lights on and began going through the filing cabinet, picking the locks one at a time. There had to be something there. Searching for several minutes revealed nothing that looked related to Lazarus. “Place your hands slowly on top of your head,” a voice said from behind.
“I’m screwed,” Galen muttered as he complied. If it was one person, it might be possible to resist. Those illusions vanished when he looked at the shadow on the floor, and saw a second shadow emerge from the first. He realized far too late that he'd forgotten his gun at any rate, which would work to his advantage.
“You have the right to remain silent,” an officer started from behind him, as he felt the handcuffs snap down on his wrist. Galen listened with indifference until the officer asked, “Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?”
“Yes, sir,” Galen replied, figuring that resistance at this point would be painful.
August 12th 2005 - 11:44pm
Kate did not exactly look pleased, Galen thought, as she handed over $250 of bail money. It would have been nice to be a telepath to know if she was more upset about his being arrested or having to hand over the money to get him out. Neither of them said anything while getting in the back of the cab. “So, where are you two going?” the driver asked.
Galen looked at Kate for a moment before she leaned forward towards the driver.
“67 Birch Street, Alhambra.”
The driver nodded and the cab slowly pulled away from the station. Kate sat back down next to Galen.
“I’m sorry I had to call you,” he said apologetically.
“Forget it,” said Kate tiredly. After a moment's silence had passed Kate turned to Galen and took his hand in hers, smiling softly. “I’m just glad you’re okay. So…” she lowered her voice to avoid being overheard, “tell me it was worth being arrested over… you did find out something right?”
Galen squeezed her hand lightly, and leaned in close to her. “Let’s not talk about it here.” Kate was about to say something but his paranoia stopped her. The ride to Kate’s house occurred in silence with the two of them holding hands. He handled paying the cab driver when they arrived, and they entered the house together.
“You really are paranoid, aren’t you?” Kate teased as she hung up her jacket and walked into the sitting room.
“With good reason,” Galen replied, finally getting to sit down and relax. It felt good to have something softer than a prison cot to sit on. “The bad news is, no, I didn’t find out anything. They must have moved the documents before I arrived.”
“So you went through all that for nothing?” Kate couldn’t help pacing the length of the room. “You know when I got that call I thought… I thought at first that something bad had happened, that you’d…” Kate sat down in an armchair, holding her head in her hands. She was really tired and had been worried ever since she got the phone call asking her to come down to the police station.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to worry you,” Galen said moving over to Kate. He slowly took Kate’s hands in his own, wanting to offer her some reassurance that everything was going to be okay. The only thing he could think of was to try to get her mind off of it. “Look on the bright side. They’ll probably suspend me from work, which will mean a bit less stress.”
“You’re joking right? That’s supposed to be the bright side? Besides you know as well as I do, being suspended won’t stop you from investigating this case, if anything it’ll only make you more determined.”
“That’s true.” Galen sighed again, unsure of exactly what to say. “It’ll give us a chance to spend more time together, though. Plus this will let me focus more on this case.” As his voice trailed off, he shook his head. Now she would be more worried, a thought he didn’t like.
Kate sighed tiredly, “Galen, I love you, and I’ll stand by whatever decision you make, but you said yourself these people are prepared to kill to cover their tracks. I just don’t want to lose you.” Kate shook her head in despair. “You said the files had been removed? Do you think that means they knew you were coming?”
“Not me in specific, but someone,” he replied. They had to be, it made too much sense to assume they didn’t. Assume a worst case scenario in their position, that whoever got the earlier documents will figure out who they were intended for, what the delivery point was. The hospital would be more secure than a private home given their nature, so it made sense for them to keep them there. Now that their owner had been compromised, they had to move them to a more secure location. Galen realised he had been speaking out loud when he saw the look of panic on Kate’s face. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, brushing her cheek before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you too much to die easily.”
“You promise?” said Kate, her voice betrayed her fear and Galen leaned in to hold her close.
“I promise.”
BACK A COUPLE OF DAYS
August 10, 2005, approaching 10 PM.
Tears in his eyes, Sam dashed around the block, propelled into the future by an electric fear of werewolves. His flailing heels kicked one of the slobbering beasts in the chin. The other two pursued him with ferocious snapping, each of their long, pink teeth missing his ankles by a fraction of step. If his luck didn’t run out, his energy might. He was already slowing. It had been a mad sprint, and his stomach felt punctured, all vigor trailing out of the wound. If only he could turn around and plead for the monsters to leave him alone. Because he was innocent. And harmless. But his stake had already proven otherwise, hadn't it? Sam Aubrey pressed forward, rejuvenating a faith in his ability to make it to the workplace—if not in one piece—on time.
He had left Kimmie's apartment building in a rush, so when the monsters jumped him, he was already light on his feet. They'd been lurking outside the security doors, ready to pounce on the first luckless soul to scamper down the steps.
They chased Sam three blocks to the bus stop.
Sam panicked as he saw the green route pulling away from the curb. “Wait for me!” he cried, catching up and banging its flanks with his fists. Grabbing the large side mirror, he heaved himself up and fell onto the boarding steps while pushing at the glass. The door slammed open. His arms flew over his head, and his shirt flew up around his neck. "Go, go!"
The bus rumbled into the next gear. Reaching up, Sam showed the uniformed driver the contents of his two hands: a laminated bus pass and a menacing stake, whom he called Thumper. The driver looked past it. His jaws dropped as he saw three large wolves running alonside the bus. One of them clamped down on Sam’s pant leg, and the driver cried out, “Good God!” He put on the gas, throwing the other passengers back in their seats. With a swift yank, the werewolf ripped off a shred of Sam’s blue jeans. Sam pulled his feet inside the door, scrambled up the steps, and ran to the rear window.
The werewolves were falling behind, falling into small leaps, slowing down to fast trots—finally veering off, giving up the hunt.
Another close call. But he was making good time. Sam found the nearest seat and sunk into its smooth, hard plastic. Bob Wedge hadn't been kidding that time when he advised Sam to hightail it out of L.A. This place was terribly dangerous.
Werewolves were by far the scariest things Sam had ever seen. Thumper had wounded one of them, the mean one, the smallest one. Sam honestly didn’t remember using the weapon. But his arms had been swinging like mad, and the stake had been in his right hand, so he must have tagged the wolf accidentally. Sam shook his head, trying to block out the memory of its angry whine. The blow had knocked it back a step. It was almost as if Thumper had been defending its master, working independently, almost as if Thumper really was a “he.”
This thought disturbed Sam. He sat up and shoved the stake into his duffle bag and zipped it up tight.
Then he became aware of his surroundings:
The man occupying the seat in front of him was on his knees, gawking. He leaned forward into the back rest, fumbling his face into a thick pair of seeing eyeglasses. “Good gravy, boy, was that blood on that stick? You didn’t just stab one of those pooches!" We Are the World was enblazoned across the front of his t-shirt.
For a moment, Sam considered lying. But he was deeply annoyed with the stunt the werewolves had pulled. If they'd eaten him, they'd have ruined his reputation of timeliness. And, by the way, he wasn't about to let three mercilous trouble-makers be perceived as victims. They had to be exposed. Sam nodded sternly at the man before him. He cocked his head and replied, "They were going to make me late for my first night on the job!”
Daye sends out invitations
***** Thursday, August 11, 2005 2 pm *****
Daye and Josh sat at the table in the back of Bibliophile. The lunch rush had just ended and the café had no customers, so they had time to work on the plans for Daye’s big party. Josh was handling the food, and he was having a grand time. Daye was charging the expense to the Council (thanks to some creative invoicing), so he had a lot to work with. Just now, they were figuring out how to arrange the buffet and what alterations they would make to the shop's layout for the evening. Daye was going to push the shelves aside and drape them, making room for a small dance floor. They were hiring a quartet to play music and she was going to have to find a bartender to make drinks. Melissa Blue had jumped at the chance to earn extra money serving the guests.
“Now, all I have to do is put these invitations in the mail,” Daye said to Josh, “ and find a decent bartender.”
Josh looked thoughtful for a moment. Miss Blaise was looking haggard and he thought maybe between the shop, her new boyfriend and this party she was spreading herself a little thin. That’s why he’d taken on so much of the responsibility for planning this little shindig. He was going to hire the day laborers to move the furniture around and help cover the bookshelves, as well as supervising them himself. Miss Blaise was grateful and wanted to give him a big bonus for all his help. Josh himself only did it because he enjoyed seeing the sparkle in her pretty green eyes, and he wanted help her find that sparkle again.
“I think I know someone, Miss Blaise,” Josh said. Jones would be perfect for the job, if he wasn’t already committed. From time to time, his friend took on side jobs and he would probably do it for Josh if he asked him to. “I’ll give him a call later.”
Daye smiled gratefully. “That would be so great,” she said. “Honestly, Josh, I don’t know what I would do without you around here.”
Josh shook his head, embarrassed. “I just do my job, Miss,” he replied. “You keep the shop running.”
Daye smiled. The truth was, this shop was exhausting her. She’d spent every day this week here, almost from sun up to sun down, only leaving a couple of times to make deliveries and pick up some merchandise. *Although I managed to time it just right and miss Kate coming by,* she thought. *I [i]really[i/] need to give her a call soon.*
“Well, you’re a godsend to me,” Daye said to Josh. “The menu looks great. Thanks so much. You’d better get back to the kitchen though.”
Josh nodded. He’d been back here for almost half an hour, much longer than he usually left the kitchen during business hours. “I should get back out there.”
Josh left Daye alone. She finished addressing the last envelope, and stuffed the party invitations in a bag along with some other mail. Then she turned back to the computer. She had a little touching up to do on her prospectus, but it was close to complete. Now she just had to e-mail it back to the Council. If things went well enough, she would be hearing from them just before the party. She might have real good news for Josh, who would be delighted by the thought of running a real restaurant. Daye smiled at the thought. She stayed in the back another half hour, finishing up the proposal, and sending it off to England. When she was done, Daye left the shop and headed for the post office to send the party invitations on their way.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
****Saturday, 13 August 2005 Late Morning****
The day was extremely overcast. Although it was light, some of the cars had their lights on. Mantheana put Maria into her coat. She did not put Yasha on the lead. He never went on the lead. She then put her full-length cloak on. She couldn't take any chances in the daylight.
"Mama, where are we going?" It was morning and Maria was all bright and questioning.
"Going to see Amanda, da?"
"Daye? That will be fun. Can Miesha come?"
"Da. But don’t leave her anywhere."
"Yes Mama."
"Good, come on now." Mantheana took another look at the card, slipped on her fingerless lace gloves and pulled the hood over her head. She took Maria's little hand, walked out the door and started down the street.
The majority of the morning crowds had left and now there was just a small stream of customers entering Bibliophile. Jess had been sorting through some of the books all morning and was just about to take a break when the bell rang over the door and another customer walked in. The woman was fairly young, a small child standing close to her side clutching an old doll tightly.
Mantheana pulled the hood from her face, and Maria tightened her grip on her hand. She looked around at the shelves of books, but Amanda was nowhere to be seen. Instead a woman who looked a couple of years older than Mantheana stood at the desk with a polite smile on her face. Mantheana inhaled and then gave the woman a piercing look.
"You know Amanda." There was a slight hint of question in the statement, but it was pretty confident.
“Um, yeah. Sorry, she’s not here at the moment. Can I help you?” The woman had a strange air about her. Her eyes were maroon, her teeth slightly pointed; she didn’t look totally human. This unnerved Jess slightly but she kept up a smile.
"You smell of her. She vas in here earlier? Maria, Put that down." She did not even look over to the little girl who had strayed from her side and was now looking cautiously at a book.
"But Mama. I wanta read it!"
"You can read the books at home. These don't belong to me. Put it down please. I am, trying to talk to the lady."
"Why? You said we were going to see Daye. That isn't Daye." She pointed a little forefinger.
"Indeed she is not. What is your name Madam? Maria, stop pointing." Mantheana picked Maria up out of desperation.
“Amanda isn’t here. She’ll be here tomorrow though.” Jess looked at the charming child then up to her mother, *”You smell of her.” Okay, not many humans I know could do that.* “I’m Jessica, I prefer Jess though. Nice to meet you.” She put out her hand to shake.
Mantheana took the hand and shook it politely, ignoring the burning heat coming from Jess's hand.
"You work here? I was only coming to see whether Amanda was up for babysitting tonight. I haf to go out. I doubt Amanda would haf mentioned me. Ve only met once. I vas out and Maria decided to go valking in the streets. She offered to help me out on the odd occasion. Do you know vhen she might be in?" Mantheana put the squirming Maria on the desk. "Sit." Both Maria and Yasha obeyed.
"I'm Mantheana by the way. And this is Maria, my daughter. Yasha the dog."
Jess couldn’t quite work out Mantheana’s accent but she wasn’t from these parts. She looked down to the “dog” that sat on the floor; she hadn’t even noticed it until it was pointed out. Jess knew her dogs and knew that this certainly wasn’t a dog, more like a wolf. “I’ll let her know you came.”
"Thank you. Tell her I just want to know when she's free to look after Maria. Oh and can you give her this?" Mantheana handed over the jumper that Daye had given to Maria. A crumpled piece of paper was on the top. It was covered in felt tip pen and glue. Inside was a jumble of letters both English and what looked like numerals. The letters "Tha-k Y-u For He-lpi-g m-e"
“Sure, I’ll give it to her when I see her next.” Jess smiled and looked down to the paper and the strange writing that was only part English.
"I used my bestest colours for that I did." Maria protested quietly as if everyone should be in awe of her thank you card.
"Da, Maria, I'm sure the Ms Jessica can see that. And while I'm here, do you have any books on protection spells? I just get worried about Maria sometimes in this huge city…"
Jess was a bit uncertain about this question. She knew of protection spells and had once performed one back in London with the help of a Wicca but they were powerful and not to be tried by people with little or no magical inclinations.
“Protection spells can be pretty dangerous if you’re not experienced in the craft, you should probably get some help from a Wicca. Da- Amanda’s pretty good, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind doing a spell for you.”
"Ahh. Yes. That's probably quite wise. I wouldn't want to hurt Maria. I'll ask Amanda next time I see her." She unconsciously stroked Maria's hair. Then a thought struck her.
"You own a dog? It reeks of dog around here." She gave a curious smile.
*This is getting kind of weird.* “Yes, a, um, English setter.”
"Ahh yes. My friend in Scotland had one. Very friendly. And loyal. Pretty as vell. Although I favor somethink a little bigger."
“So I see.” Jess said smiling as she looked down to the huge Siberian wolf that sat by Mantheana’s feet. “A wolf?”
"Yes, it’s only practical. I saw a pack of them along time ago. So when I was looking for a dog and a protector I went back to Siberia to find one." She patted Yasha on the head. "Very reliable. And he's great with Maria, aren't you Yasha?" Yasha growled.
“I’m sure he is.” Jess looked back to the woman; there was something not quite right about her. Her smile was disconcerting, yet she seemed to care so much for her daughter which made her feel slightly more at ease.
"He even helped out when ve got in a big fight with some vampyres outside After Dark, when I met Amanda."
“Okay, wasn’t expecting her to say that.* Jess raised an eyebrow at the sudden revelation “I would keep your voice down a bit if you’re going to talk about that here,” she said in a friendly voice. The woman seemed friendly enough and obviously knew about vampires so she decided to go out on a whim. “Look, if you want any help babysitting Maria or something I’d be happy to help you out.”
She took a card from the desk and scribbled her mobile phone number onto it.
"Vhy thank you. You and Amanda are equally kind. It's sometimes hard looking after her by myself.” She took a pen from some concealed pocket and scribbled her number down on a scrap of paper.
“If you want any help just get back to me, I’m here part time as well if you want to drop in.” She smiled. Looking at her watch she realized the time. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to get back to work. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Mantheana looked at her watch, "Oh I am sorry, I didn't mean to keep you." She picked Maria off the desk on put her on the ground. "See you around." She smiled and pulled the hood over her face. Yasha followed straight behind and she walked briskly from the little shop.
Hector gets the job
***** Friday, August 12, 2005 after 5 pm *****
Daye glanced up as a strange man entered the shop late Friday afternoon. From the description she had from Joshua, she would venture a guess that this tall African American dressed in casual black slacks and a grey shirt was Hector. She smiled in welcome as he approached the counter in the busy shop.
“Hello,” Daye said. “How can I help you?”
“Yeah, hi,” the man replied. “I’m lookin’ for a …” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and glanced at something written there. “A Miss Amanda Blaise.”
Daye nodded. “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” she said. “I’m Amanda Blaise. You must be Joshua’s friend, Hector, right?’
Hector inclined his head in agreement. “Well,” Daye began, coming around the counter, “do you mind if we talk in the back? I sort of have an office back there, and it would be easier than trying to discuss business in the middle of the after work rush.”
Hector readily agreed, following her into the back room and taking a seat on one side of her desk. Daye pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “So, Hector,” she said, “Josh tells me you tend bar here in the city. How long have you been doing that?”
Hector cleared his throat. He really hated this interview process. Sometimes he wondered why he’d ever left the military. At least there he hadn’t had to worry about the niceties of the whole job search process. Still, Josh swore this woman was decent and generous, and Hector had his eye on a sweet car at the lot on Palmer. He only needed a few hundred more to have the money for a solid down payment. If he just continued saving it would take another three months, but if he took on an extra job or two, he could be rolling in less than a month.
“I’ve bin doin’ it for a few months now,” he replied.
“You’re fairly good at it, though?” Daye asked. “Josh thought you’d be perfect for my party. It’s just a small get together…20 to 30 people.”
Hector nodded. Sounded easy enough. He saw more than that on any given night at the nightclub. Plus, he had next Saturday off, and Hector didn’t like to sit at home alone. Whenever he did, he got to thinking about Gloria, and that was never good. He had trained for years to protect people, but then when it counted, he couldn’t do anything for the woman he loved.
“If you think you can handle it,” Daye said, “I’d be happy to have you work the bar on Saturday. I trust Joshua’s judgment. Just let him know what you need and he’ll see that it’s all taken care of.”
Hector stood, surprised at how easy that had been. This woman had given Josh a lot of responsibility in a short time. She seemed to genuinely recognize that under his tough exterior, Josh was a really sweet, decent guy.
“Thank you, Miss,” Hector said. He strode from the office and made his way into the kitchen to let Joshua know exactly what would need to be stocked at the bar. This was going to be some of the easiest money he ever made.
Ryan walks Daye home
***** Friday, August 12, 2005 around 10:30 pm *****
Daye shut the register and put the day’s deposit into the bank bag. She would hide the money in the wall safe in the kitchen and then finally be done for the day. She glanced around the shop before stepping into the kitchen, making sure everything else was done. The place was spotless, the tables and counters clean of clutter, and the floor freshly vacuumed. Daye was glad that Jess had decided to stay on, because it freed up more of her time for the paperwork that kept piling up. She had barely managed to finish up the payroll today, and that lunch Joshua had brought her was the last thing she’d managed to eat.
Daye slid the bank pouch into the safe and locked it up tight, using the mundane locks and the warding spell that had been placed on it when the shop opened. In the morning, she would have to run the money over to the bank and pick up the change they used to start the day. She would be back bright and early. As she entered the main room of the shop, Daye noticed that the clock read nearly 10:30. She was dog tired, hungry, and badly in need of a bath. Daye grabbed her purse from under the counter and quickly left the shop. If she hurried, she could bathe, eat, and still manage to get to sleep before midnight.
As she closed the door and turned to lock it, Daye heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. She spun around, wary and ready to fight if necessary. It had been a while since she’d had a run in with any vampires in the vicinity, but she was by no means taking any chances. She almost wished it was a hungry blood-sucker when she saw the man walking towards her.
Ryan stalked Daye like a hungry panther, setting her nerves on edge. He wore a lazy grin, and he let his gaze devour Daye’s body as he came closer to her. She felt fidgety and all too aware under his scrutiny. Daye knew it was foolish, but the airy summer blouse and fitted red mini skirt she wore seemed too little protection from Ryan’s lust. She wished for more when he stopped a few inches from her, his proximity throwing her off kilter.
“Daye,” Ryan’s voice was a caress. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Do you think you should be out here by yourself this late at night?”
Daye shrugged off his hand and stepped around him to begin her walk home. “I can take care of myself,” she replied stiffly. “Which you well know. What do you want, Ryan?”
Ryan followed behind her, glowering at the back of her head. *So high and mighty, Amanda? Well, before long, you’ll be begging for my company.* His voice full of concern, Ryan hurried along, taking Daye’s arm as she walked. “I just wanted to see you, baby. I’ve missed you. Can I just walk you home?”
Daye wanted to protest, to order him to leave her alone, but she suddenly couldn’t seem to get her thoughts organized. She didn’t want to be near Ryan, but with his strong hand gripping her arm, she felt warm and safe. Daye nodded, unable to speak, and continued to walk.
“You look tired,” Ryan observed, watching her. “Are you getting enough rest?”
Ryan could see the dark circles under Daye’s eyes. *Probably whoring it up with that geeky professor.* Ryan felt his rage flare at the thought of Drew.
“I’ve been busy with the shop,” she replied. “I guess I haven’t been sleeping as well as I should.”
Ryan felt perverse glee at Daye’s words. Mariah had promised him that she would be more susceptible to his brand of “persuasion”, and if she was exhausted, then she would be. As long as they both kept working on her, Daye would hand over her own destruction to Ryan willingly. The idea of Daye enabling his revenge filled Ryan with delight. Turning to her, he put on a concerned, sympathetic face. “Baby, you need to take it easy,” he said. “You can’t afford to make yourself sick by trying to do too much.”
Daye wanted to rail at him that his interference in her life was the biggest stressor she had. She wanted to yell at him to go away. *That’s unfair,* Daye told herself. *This can’t be any easier for him than it is for you. He just cares about you and wants you to be well. Don’t throw his concern back in his face.*
Daye stopped as they came to her building. She turned to look at Ryan, studying his familiar, once-beloved features. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “I need to deal with all the stuff in my head and get some decent sleep. Thanks for your concern.”
Ryan smiled tenderly. “I love you,” he said, reaching out to cup her cheek. Without even realizing she was going to, Daye nuzzled against his palm. Ryan leaned towards her. “I’m going to worry about you,” he said, staring deep into Daye’s eyes. She found herself lost in his gaze, feeling adored and cherished. He continued to caress her face with his fingers, gently. Daye was hypnotized by his touch and his attention. He bent even closer to her.
Ryan’s face was mere inches from her own. Daye could feel his warm breath on her lips. “I just want to take care of you,” Ryan whispered, flicking his gaze down to her mouth and back up. Daye was staring at him in wonder, and inside he laughed in triumph. Ryan closed the last gap between them, placing his mouth over hers. Ryan teased and taunted with his tongue, drawing Daye deeper and deeper into his kiss. In moments, she was breathless, abandoning herself to the heat between them. Ryan continued kissing her, filling Daye’s mind with memories of the time they’d spent together in Ireland. He kept a tight rein on his own lust and hunger this time, completely controlling the kiss.
Finally, Ryan drew away from Daye. She stood before him, swaying slightly, her breath coming in ragged gasps, the blood roaring in her ears. Ryan suppressed the urge to sneer. *The little slut,* he thought. *This is too easy.*
“I should go,” Ryan murmured, reaching out to brush his thumb over Daye’s swollen lips. “You better get inside.”
Unable to resist his order, Daye did as she was told, hurrying into the apartment building. Once inside the door, she turned to watch Ryan walk away. *He loves me,* she thought, the idea elating her. *It’s as simple as that.*
Daye continued up to her apartment, feeling only the slightest niggle of guilt at the thought of Drew.
Daye Dreams of Tahiti
***** Friday, August 12, 2005 around midnight *****
Daye turned off the tap and stepped into her steaming tub. She lay back and closed her eyes, amazed at how good it felt just to soak. She was drifting off when the phone rang. Daye considered for a moment just letting the machine pick up, but she was afraid it might be important. She rose out of the hot water, wrapped her thick terry cloth robe around her body and made her way to the phone on her bedside table.
“Hello,” Daye said into the receiver.
“Hi, baby,” Drew’s voice sounded distracted on the other end. Daye could hear some of that atrocious rap he called music playing in the background. “I’ve been trying to call you all day. Where’ve you been?”
Daye sighed. She had somehow forgotten to check her messages when she got in. She could now see the light on the machine blinking frantically at her. “Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t even check the machine.”
Drew could hear the weariness in her tone. “Are you still having trouble sleeping?” he asked. When he had stayed with Daye earlier in the week, she had tossed and turned all night. He wasn’t surprised, because she was so obviously upset about the situation with Ryan. Drew didn’t want to push, so he had opted to stay at his place the last few nights. He missed Daye terribly.
“Yes,” Daye said. “I’m really tired. I feel like I haven’t slept in a month.”
“Well, how much sleep did you get last night?” he asked.
“The thing is , I went to bed pretty early,” Daye said. “It was only about 9:30 when I lay down. I just feel like I haven’t slept at all. It’s like I’m not getting any good sleep.”
Drew hummed, thinking. He wanted to tell Daye to go to the doctor, to get herself checked out, but he didn’t think she would like the idea. “I guess I won’t come by tonight then,” he said. “I miss you, you know.”
Daye bit her lip, thinking about the kiss with Ryan earlier. Now, it seemed so clear that that was not what she wanted, but when she was with him, things became muddied. When she was near Ryan, looking at him, touching him, Daye felt completely differently. *I love Drew!* she told herself. “I miss you, too,” Daye responded. “I am really exhausted though. Can we get together tomorrow?”
“I understand,” Drew said. “Go ahead and get some rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Daye said goodbye and hung up the phone. She was more tired than ever when she went back into the bathroom. The hot had gone out of her bath, so she drained it, took a quick shower and climbed into bed. Unlike the last few days, exhaustion made it possible for her to fall right to sleep.
*****
Daye was laying on a beach in warm, tropical Tahiti. She could feel a man’s strong hands gently massaging oil into her skin. She moaned with delight.
“Turn over,” the man’s mouth was directly next to her ear, his hot breath caressing her. Obligingly, she rolled onto her back and looked up at her companion. The man hovering over her, wearing a lazy grin, was Ryan, and that was as it should be. She didn’t question it when he suddenly pressed his mouth to hers, devouring her in a hot, wet kiss. Daye lost herself in the feel of his mouth.
“Very nice,” she teased, when he pulled away, beginning to rub the oil into her skin once again.
“I agree,” Ryan let his gaze wander over her body, barely covered in a tiny red bikini. His chest was bare, and he ware dark blue trunks. His dark curls tumbled carelessly into his eyes, and Daye was happy to see that he seemed much younger and more playful than he had of late. There was, niggling at the back of her thoughts, the idea that things had not been well between them as of late, but now everything was good, and Daye couldn’t bring herself to worry about it in this paradise.
Daye continued to relax, watching Ryan from behind dark glasses. Nearby, children frolicked and played in the sand and surf. A beautiful girl, barely a teen, splashed in the water at the edge of the beach. She wore a red sarong style dress and her smile flashed, catching Daye’s attention for a moment. There was something about her… something almost familiar.
“Love,” Ryan brought Daye’s attention back to him, settling next to her under the warm sun, “are you happy?”
Daye nodded, leaning against him and reveling in the relaxed joy of the day.
*****
Daye awoke Saturday morning late. The birds sang brightly in the tree outside her window, and she saw that she had slept a long time. She sighed and rose from the bed. Despite all the sleep she had just had, Daye felt as tired as she had before she’d laid down the night before.
Back In L.A. At Last
Friday, 12 August 2005 - 4.45pm
Sorrow took another sip of coffee as he finished the last section of the day's newspaper. Tossing it onto the coffee table, he stretched idly and glanced at the clock. *4.45! God... It's been ages since I've had a day as lazy as this!* The last few months had been so hectic - first a race against time to find a cure for him, then a seemingly endless fight to keep Jade alive. Sorrow hadn't realised just how exhausted he was till his return to L.A. the previous night.
Tash hadn't stayed long after they'd arrived home. *Guess you don't need to have aura-reading abilities to see how worn out Jade and I were. And from what Tash told me last night, I can now add 600 years worth of voodoo knowledge to her list of abilities.* Sorrow's mouth quirked as he remembered Tash's greeting at the airport. "Go on, give me a hug." Although he was careful not to show it to Jade - and make her even more worried than she had been - the apprehension he felt about returning to L.A. was considerable. Tash's warm welcome had taken a load off his mind and eased some of the burden in his heart. *Now if I can just atone for what I did to Kate, Luc and Inanna...*
Sorrow shook himself out of his reverie. He would deal with this another time. Hearing his stomach rumbling, he got to his feet and made his way towards the master bedroom.
"Wake up sleepyhead." Sorrow prodded lightly at the lump under the quilt. "It's practically time for dinner, you've slept the day away!"
He grinned as he heard a disgruntled snuffle, then the patchwork moved a little and Jade's rumpled head poked out. Giving Sorrow a sleepy smile, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What time is it?"
"Late enough for you to be feeling embarrassed." Sorrow leaned forward to tweak Jade's nose. The long rest had done her good; the colour was back in her cheeks and she no longer looked as wan and tired as she had back in England. "If you get up now, I'll not only keep it under wraps about what a pig you are, I'll even buy you dinner."
"Hey!" Jade pouted a little. "May I remind you that I'm still recuperating from a near-death experience and that I'm suffering from jet-lag?" The lure of food, however, had her pushing the covers off and sliding off the bed. At the bathroom door, Jade turned. "Since you've literally dragged me out of bed when I should be getting my rest, I won't settle for anything less than a big steak dinner at a nice restaurant." She winked saucily, letting the silk nightgown's strap fall off her right shoulder. "And lots of... dessert after." With that, she disappeared into the shower.
Hunting Party
Friday 12th August, 2005 – 10:30pm
Victor sat on the couch and tried to resist the urge to sound like a whiny housewife. He watched Tash move efficiently around the flat strapping on knives, stakes, checking her supplies, stocking her harness and gear, and generally preparing for yet another night of hunting the terrors in the dark.
He finally could not stand it any longer, "Couldn't we spend just ONE night alone together? I mean it’s great when you come home; it’s not like I'm sleeping or anything, but all these businesses I am dealing with are basically day people."
Tash stopped long enough to give him a ‘we've-been-through-this-already’ look. She moved to the couch and gently stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry, I know we don’t spend much time together. But the business I deal with involves only night people.”
Victor looked away. He knew there was no point in arguing about this now. She had already determined she was going out. He'd have more luck reasoning with her when she got back. He looked at the selection of rejected paraphernalia on the coffee table.
There was a selection of stakes (too many to carry) some spare clips (too much bulk) and a holy water-filled squirt gun. The same one he had used when Kain sent his goons to Poplar so many months ago. He picked up the plastic toy, and twirled it as if he were a wild-west hero. He tucked it in the back of his pants, and pocketed a couple of stakes. He was well equipped for fighting vampires by the time Tash noticed his activity.
She paused, having just dealt with her brand new crossbow. It was too bulky to carry under a jacket, but she had tied a lanyard to it and slung it over her shoulder where it was nicely hidden by the empty backpack she then strapped on.
Tash cocked her head. "What are you doing? No, don't answer that - I can see what you're doing. Why are you doing it?"
Victor felt silly for just a second as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Then he felt a little angry, "I think 2000 years old is old enough to make a decision like going out to work with your girlfriend."
He immediately regretted his words at Tash's shocked look. "Listen," he said in a softer tone, "I love you. I worry about you. I want to be with you and this seems to be the only way I can do that. Would you mind if I tagged along?"
Tash felt a sudden pricking behind her eyes. All these months she'd been going out every night, sometimes coming home battered and bruised. And she'd known that Victor was worried about her, but she'd pushed that knowledge far, far back in her mind where she didn't have to look at it. She picked up one of his hands and gently rubbed the back of it with her thumb.
Looking at him sadly, she said, "I'm sorry. I've been so caught up in myself lately, I've not been seeing what's in front of me. I love you, too. But it's dangerous out there..."
Victor smiled, “It can't be half as dangerous as living here has been. Besides, I'm back at 100%. The armor is tougher than ever and I feel a need to get some exercise, unless you have another man out there you are seeing?" He winked at her.
She chuckled at Victor’s clowning then tucked her arm in his as a way of assenting. They walked out into the sultry night pushing Tash's bike between them.
Tash thought about the routes she'd patrolled recently. "You know, I haven't been to Glendale for a while. I know it’s out a bit, but with two of us we can expand the territory a little. Shall we?"
Victor scrambled onto the bike behind her and she revved the engine high to compensate for Victor's disguised bulk. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she smiled. It had been way too long since they'd been out together. This felt... nice. Not normal, of course. How many people went on dates where they hunted vampires? But still, it felt good to have Victor along.
They approached the area she wanted to check out tonight. She’d been noticing a lot of new vampire activity recently wherever she hunted, but especially when she went a little further from home than normal. She parked the bike and waited until Victor got off before dismounting.
"I've been finding a lot of new vampires around these areas lately. At least the young ones aren't very skilled. But, please, be careful." Tash kissed him lightly, "I know you're a big, tough demon and all that, but I still worry about you."
"Don't worry, I have you to watch my back in any case. I haven't been hunting in... well... a long time but you don't forget," he said.
*I still remember what we used to hunt.*
Victor made a growling noise. *You need to sit back and enjoy the violence, that’s all you'll get tonight!*
The inner voice laughed, *No, I get to watch you fight my urging. That’s more fun!*
Victor watched Tash meld with the shadows and begin stalking, looking for signs. Victor looked around the dark back streets of Glendale. To his demon's eyes they looked well lit, but his long years with humans had accustomed him to thinking of it as full of long shadows. His ears listened for the sounds of terror and his nose picked through the scents of the city for the coppery tang of blood.
He had been strolling casually down the street looking like another wanderer in the night when his senses focused on a tangle of activity. A young skateboarder, no more than 15 by the look of him, was jumping the newspaper boxes, fire hydrants, and even a mailbox on the street. The clatter of his board slamming the hard concrete of the sidewalk make Victor’s hypersensitive ears ring, and he was distracted for a moment.
He looked away from the flurry of the skater as he passed but when he heard the board hit and roll, the creak of the wood and the scrape of the wheels grew silent. Victor looked back and saw the board rolling alone down the street. He doubled back and reached for the plastic weapon. As he walked back up the street, three young boys ran out of a nearby building and surrounded Victor.
"Whassup? You lost?" said one of them.
Victor looked into the youth's eyes. Any innocence there was totally gone. This child was already a murderer in his heart. Victor looked from face to face in the trio and all of them had evil covering them like a burial shroud.
*They want to play. Care to show them what hell is like?*
The boys appraised Victor like he was a piece of meat. The expensive clothes, the refined bearing. "Hey are you a 'tard or sumpin’? My boy aksed you a question!"
Tash prowled along the street, every sense alert. Victor had fallen behind, but she knew she’d feel the presence of any vampires that found him. When vampires attacked, they radiated a cloud of evil intent. Tash had followed such psychic scents for so many years now that it was second nature to her. Still, she concentrated behind her, just to be sure. There was something very faint. A feeling of menace, but it didn’t taste like vampires.
*Poor Victor was getting a hard time from Vrithetek when we first got here. Maybe that’s it,* she thought.
"Tard or not, gimmee da shit," said the first boy, pulling a small but potentially lethal handgun; a Saturday Night Special. Lethal for humans, not for Victor. Victor grabbed the punk by the neck and lifted him eye to eye. The handgun discharged with a sharp popping noise and the bullet ricocheted down the street from Victor’s gut.
The other boys turned to run, but the one Victor held repeatedly pulled the trigger. Bullets flew wildly around the street. Windows shattered, one of the other boys fell and did not move. The gun finally stopped its annoying chatter. The boy dangled from Victor's outstretched arm by his neck, his face turning red. Victor drew him in close. Nearly nose to nose. Victor turned his wrist so the boy was forced to see his friend on the sidewalk lying in a slowly spreading puddle of blood.
"That is your future boy. Dead on the streets, with those he trusts fleeing the terror that is your life. Do something worthwhile for a change. Get a real life. Don't waste oxygen by being another piece of trash." Victor kept his voice low and mean.
The boys eyes were beginning to flutter and a trickle of warm fluid dripped from his expensive shoes. "There is no future for him, the shadows will claim him tonight. His soul is letting go. It won't go far, but it will go down. You can join him or you can avoid his fate." Victor tossed the boy aside and ignored Vrithetek's calls to claim the escaping soul of the dead punk.
Tash heard the popping of a small gun. A window shattered behind her and she ducked as the glass showered down. "What the hell?" She turned and ran back the way she'd come. Back to Victor. *How can he have got himself into trouble already? We've only been here five minutes!*
She ran onto the scene and stood, staring down at the bloody remains of a boy as the last of his aura flickered and died. Another boy was lying beside the corpse, shaking. She turned her eyes to Victor, "I heard the shots," she said, unable to avoid stating the obvious or to keep the accusatory tone from her voice.
Victor's attention was on the doorway to the building. He was still as if concentrating on something inside. His hand moved to signal Tash to silence. Victor took two steps back from the building and into the street moments before an enormous black man exited the building. He held the young 'boarder under one arm, and wore the distinctive bandana of the other three's gang. But his gnarled brow and yellow eyes betrayed his true allegiance.
"Yo, bieatch! You don't come on my turf and dis my boyees. Throw down mofo! You bettah give me everything you got or I am gonna kick it outta ya!"
For a fleeting moment, Tash was indignant at Victor, thinking he was avoiding talking about the dead boy. But then she felt it. A cold shiver travelled down her spine.
Vampire.
Then the beast emerged from the shadows. She looked up, then up some more. *Well, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.*
While the vampire jabbered at Victor she eased out her crossbow. The vampire was holding a boy under one arm, but it was on the far side from her, and the vampire was so utterly enormous that there was still plenty of target area. Hiding her actions by twisting to the side, she loaded the crossbow.
"How about I give you everything I've got?" said Tash as she loosed the bolt directly at the vampire's heart.
The vampire didn't even flinch as the bolt struck true just to the left of the sternum almost mid chest. Its contact made a metallic sound. The bolt deflected and tore the beast's shirt letting a long flap hang open exposing the metal plate about four inches square riveted to his chest. Scars spiderwebbed away from the plate and the gouges in the thick metal were testimony to other attempts to stake this vampire.
The vampire roared and flung the boy towards Tash while charging Victor who poised and let the beast hit him about chest height. But Victor's height was deceptive and as he leaned forward he drove the vampire's momentum hard into the concrete of the sidewalk. There was a crunching noise and the vampire slid a few feet on his face. Victor leapfrogged over the bullish figure and whirled to see it rolling back to his feet.
Tash almost managed to leap aside as the limp form flew towards her. Almost, but not quite. Her reflexes had been slowed a fraction by her outrage at the vampire's chest plate. As she untangled herself from the flailing limbs of the half-drained boy she was thinking furiously, *But... that's cheating, dammit! How dare he?*
She performed a gymnastic flip to bounce back to her feet, just in time to see the giant rising to his full height. He and Victor had swapped positions somehow. So far the vampire seemed to be concentrating on Victor, so Tash pulled out a stake and a vial of holy water. She threw the vial at the monster’s back as he charged Victor once more. Too late, she realised the holy water would hurt Victor as much as the vampire, and she hoped that not too much would splash onto him.
The guy was faster than he appeared. He moved like a muscle car with nitro injection as he reached a full speed charge in the space of a few feet. A vial flew at the back of his head from where Tash was standing and shattered, spraying clear liquid mostly on the vampire but a few splatters hit Victor's face and arms sending little wisps of smoke curling up from the points of contact.
Victor winced and lost the critical moment of concentration as the vampire slammed into him like a wrecking ball. The vampire was in no shape to press the advantage as he too was smoking from the holy water soaking into the back of his denim vest. Victor and the vampire quickly ripped off clothing while rolling around the floor of the building, and came up in opposite corners of the room.
The room was filled with junk. There were shoes, drugs, skates, clothing, jackets, hats, and all manner of name brand merchandise. All spoils of the gang under the vampire's control. The vampire was likely trading it for the blood of rival gang members or even his own gang when times were thin. But from the looks of it, times had not been thin for a long time.
Tash winced as Victor was slammed through the door and into the inky blackness of the building's interior. She grasped her stake firmly, but before she could move a hand grabbed her arm. The cowering boy had mustered his courage and was threatening Tash with a knife. Tash rolled her eyes, kicked him in the crotch and landed a solid blow with her elbow to his temple. Leaving him groaning on the ground, Tash ran into the stygian gloom.
It was impossible for her to see anything in here. The darkness was so dense it was suffocating. Though that might also have been the foul odour of filth and rotting meat. She sidled away from the frame of the doorway and fumbled out her torch, switching it on to reveal Victor's face. "Shit," she muttered, knowing she'd just night-blinded him and cursing herself. She kept moving as she swung the beam across the room. She could feel the rage of the beast before the beam picked him out, and dove between his legs as he steamed towards her.
Victor's other senses went into overdrive as his vision momentarily adjusted. The sound of movement, the smell of sweat, the wind currents and air pressure changes all told him what was happening. Blindly Victor punched forward with a raking motion and was rewarded by the feel of flesh curling beneath his talons. The pain and Tash's unexpected move made the monster curse as he regrouped for another assault.
"Fuck. If that bitch Jem sent you, then take what you want and git the fuck out! Tired of that ho' anyway!"
From her position on the floor, Tash replied, "Really, what's she done to piss you off? Let her pussycat wee on your front porch?" While she spoke, Tash manoeuvred herself into a crouch, stake held in front of her.
From the scars radiating out from the plate on his chest many people had tried to stake this vamp before. He straightened up and towered a foot or more over Tash. "She ain't my problem. You is. She just turnin' VT's in my crib. Bitch gonna pay. I rat her, you take her, I walk. Dig?"
Tash puzzled through the vampire's lexicon. VT's had her stumped for a moment, until she worked it out. Vampire Tricks? "So she's making a bunch of new vampires in this area. OK. Good to know. Anything else before we bid each other adieu?"
"She got a hard jones for that sidekick o' hers. One o' my boys tried to jack him - thought she was gonna OJ on his ass. If I hanna bitchslapped her she'da stomped him inna next week."
The big guy was shifting his weight and Victor could feel it. Victor was only a few feet away. Far enough that if he lunged, the huge vamp would react... but he still thought Victor's arms were human length.
Victor flattened his hand and aimed for the riveted edge of the metal plate. The monster jerked to avoid the stab, but talons met flesh and hooked under the plate. Victor hauled with all his strength and metal bolts grown hard into bone pulled free of their moorings.
The sound of tearing metal and grinding bone filled the room, along with the roar of pain issuing from the vampire’s throat. Tendons and ligaments snapped as Victor wrenched the plate from the vampire's chest, exposing the flesh above his heart. Tash leapt up from her crouch and rammed the stake home.
“Thanks. And adieu," she said as the dust drifted to the floor.
The adrenaline thudded through Tash's veins. She looked up at Victor, the torch lying on the ground casting eerie shadows around the room. "What a team," she smiled. "I want to see if they've got any live people stashed in here. Sometimes these guys stock their larders."
Though she tried to calm herself, her pounding heart was loud in her ears. She drew Victor's head down and kissed him deeply. This was confusing to her - this was her reward for killing vampires, but she had more to kill tonight. She pulled back, flustered.
Victor was puzzled by her reaction, but he let her go. "Be careful," he warned, "These punks might not want help." He tapped the H&K under her arm for emphasis.
Tash smiled at his protectiveness. "Of course," she said. "Stakes for vampires, guns for humans." She leaned in and whispered, "But God help me if I ever kill one." The memory of that boy's corpse outside haunted her. She still wasn't sure what had happened, though she knew Victor had no gun on him.
She pulled out her firearm and carefully picked her way across the debris in the room, the torch lighting her way. Motes of dust danced in the air along the beam as she disappeared through an interior door. After several minutes, Victor could see the wavering beam of light signalling Tash's return. She poked her head into the room.
"No," she said quietly, "Nobody here left to save. Let's go."
Victor held up the metal plate, "Souvenir?" he asked.
Tash rolled her eyes, “If you must.”
Victor just tossed the plate back into the house, then the two of them walked back into the moonlit night.
As the silhouettes left the rectangle of the doorway a huge figure stepped into the room from behind the building. It picked up the metal plate and affixed it smoothly to its own chest. The flesh rolled around it, and scars spidered out from it. Yellow eyes and pointy teeth focused and defined. He felt incomplete, but that would change over time. This place was full of things that could give him form and reality.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Friday, 12 August 2005 - About 8pm
While Jade got ready to go out, Sorrow spent some time on the phone in the living room. Friday afternoon was not the best of times to be making restaurant reservations but he finally found a small Italian restaurant that could fit them in.
Using the guest bathroom, Sorrow took a quick shower and changed. A quick glance at the clock told him that it was almost 8. Wondering why Jade was taking this long to dress, he tried to enter the master bedroom only to find that the door locked. "Jade?" Sorrow's amusement was evident, he wasn't a stranger to the extraordinary lengths of time women took to get themselves ready for a simple night out. He also knew that unless he was firm, the likelihood that they'd reach the restaurant before he keeled over from hunger was slim to none. "I'm calling for a cab now, so you've got another 15 minutes before we leave. No arguing!"
The end of his sentence was punctuated with a small shriek on the other side of the door. Sorrow grinned at the clattering sounds that ensued and, satisfied that his message had gotten across, picked up the phone once again...
********************
When Sorrow and Jade reached the restaurant, they were lead to a small table for two in a secluded corner of what otherwise was a very crowded dining area.
Sorrow smiled as they sat down. "Well, if it's this busy, it can't be that bad?"
"I think the food will be just fine..." Jade sniffed the air appreciatively. The delicious, rich scent of pasta from a nearby table was making her mouth water and she scanned the menu the waiter had placed in front of her quickly. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so hungry! *Perhaps it's because the cuisine available in England and Egypt hadn't been quite so appealing...*
Finally settling on the spaghetti vongole, Jade looked up to see Sorrow grinning at her. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing... I've just never seen you so eager for food before... I like a woman with an appetite." Sorrow winked. "Especially one as beautiful as you darling."
Jade lips parted in a smile even as she blushed. She knew she looked good, dressed in a dusk pink, figure-hugging slip dress made of rich Thai silk. The skirt ended at her knee but was slit to mid-thigh, showing off a great deal of Jade's tanned, slim legs. Her hair had been twisted into heavy curls that cascaded down her back and rose-coloured gems glittered at her ears.
"Why, thank you," she said, winking back. "But I'm just trying to keep up with you." Jade let her eyes travel slowly down Sorrow's body, dressed from top to toe in charcoal grey, the thin silk sweater making his shoulders seem even broader. More than one female head in the restaurant had turned when they'd entered and Jade was more than aware of the envious looks that were constantly being thrown in her direction.
The mood between them remained light and flirtatious throughout the meal. The pasta was excellent, the wine mediocre, the tiramisu overly sweet, but Jade and Sorrow were so caught up in each other that they hardly noticed. Several times, Sorrow spotted a wistfulness in Jade's eyes and in her smile. It reflected what he too was thinking, feeling - they didn't get out like this often enough... Simple pleasures that other couples took for granted were luxuries to individuals like themselves. *Jade looks so happy tonight. Coming out has done her so much good, I didn't realise till now how much she misses a normal life.* Then and there, Sorrow promised himself that they'd make this a habit, that their lives wouldn't be all about just vampires and demons...
"You're going to get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that." Jade leaned forward, giving Sorrow a teasing peek down the scooped neckline of her dress, and brushed her finger over the line between his eyebrows. "What say we call for the bill, head home, and I'll do something that'll give you laugh lines instead?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief and her cheeks were flushed from all the wine she had consumed.
"I knew all those clams and oysters in the vongole were going to have an effect on you somehow. Especially with the amount of wine we had." Sorrow chuckled. He took several bills out of his wallet, laid them on the table and signalled to the waiter before pushing his chair back.
Jade wobbled a bit on her strappy heels as she stood up. She was a little tipsier than she'd thought and the strong arm Sorrow slipped around her waist was a welcome support. "Do you realise," she asked impishly, "That out of the 20 women in the room right now, half of them would give their front teeth to be exactly where I am now?"
"Only half? Now you've bruised my feelings. What about the other half?" Sorrow raised an amused eyebrow.
Jade wrinkled her nose as the two of them walked towards the door. "Oh, they're the ones plotting my immediate demise so that they can sink their claws into you before you reach the exit. Oops... Sorry!" Jade's smile was as sweet as her tone, and the dazzled waiter she'd bumped into could do little else but gawk stupidly at her and mumble as she and Sorrow waltzed out the door.
Mariah recruits for the Brotherhood
***** Friday, August 12, 2005 *****
In a small apartment in East L.A., Mr. Jesus Rodriguez fell asleep once again in front of the television in his lonely apartment, watching reruns of “I Dream of Jeannie.” Visions of Barbara Eden clad in flimsy pink satin danced in his head.
*****
Jesus was sitting in a kitschy 60’s style living room, unsure of how he’d gotten there. He stood up slowly and took a look around. There was something vaguely familiar about this place, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Suddenly, a scantily clad woman entered the room, sashaying over to stand close to him.
“Oh, Master,” the woman’s blue eyes were painted and her long blonde hair was tied up in a top knot. She was smiling adoringly at Jesus. “I am so glad you are here. I grow so lonely when you are away.”
The woman, whom Jesus realized was Jeannie, sidled up to him, cuddling. She had wrapped her arms around Jesus, and he thought she felt very good there. As the woman proceeded to snuggle against him, Jesus smiled blissfully. In moments, “Jeannie” had dragged him down to the floor. She was doing things he’d never seen her do on TV. As he lost himself to the giddy pleasure of it, Jesus thought for a moment he saw a young girl with blonde curls watching. Before he could consider the oddness of this, he was completely distracted.
*****
Gabriel Wright tossed and turned in his bed, drifting into a shallow sleep. This night had been endless and in the morning he fully expected to find himself without a job.
*****
Gabriel stood in the boardroom of his company, facing a group of pale, sweating shareholders, all of whom stared in apprehension at the deadly black machine gun he cradled, aimed at them.
“W…what is it you w…want, Mr. Wright?” one woman squeaked out. “S…surely we can d…do something for y…you.”
Gabriel grinned triumphantly. He had given the best years of his life to these bloodsuckers, losing his wife and children when they could no longer stand his long hours and low pay. He had devoted himself to these self-righteous pricks and then, yesterday, when it had become apparent that a miscalculation in his department would cost the company a few thousand, they had decided he was no longer efficient enough. Well, now Gabriel would show the smarmy bastards just how efficient he could be.
“Yeah,” Gabriel replied silkily, “you can do something for me.”
He raised the gun, taking careful aim. “You can die!!!”
Gabriel pulled back the trigger, a hail of bullets flying out to strike the horrified board members. They began to scream as the hot lead ripped into their flesh. Soon, Gabriel was covered in spattered blood. A thin sheen of smoke filled the room, and a smell of death and burning filled the air. Gabriel smiled madly, tossed down the gun and stepped over the dead bodies littering the floor. He strode out the big, black doors and came face to face with a pretty, preteen girl standing just outside. She smiled at him as he walked away, and Gabriel felt a blissful sense of relief.
*****
Marcus Riggs dozed off on the sofa, his two young stepdaughters playing Barbies a few feet away. Marcus was sweaty and dirty from a long day hauling trash. He needed just a moment's rest before he began dinner. He’d had little rest the night before, because Shauna had been ill and he’d stayed up to keep an eye on her. Marcus had never gotten around to the adoption, but the state had seen fit to let him keep the two little girls he’d raised as his own after his wife, Laney, had been murdered on her way to work at the hospital a few months back. Laney hadn’t seen Ally and Shauna’s dad for over four years, and the girls didn’t know him at all. They called Marcus dad, and now they were what kept him going. But he was tired, unused to being mom and dad to two rambunctious little girls. He just needed a moment’s rest.
*****
Marcus lay on powdery soft sand, facing a crystal blue ocean. A little way down the beach his two pretty little girls played in the surf, cavorting and laughing gleefully. Marcus loved the sound. Just as he loved the sight of his wife’s taut coppery skin, such a contrast to his own, nearly ebony. She lay on the blanket inches from him, her eyes closed and her mouth curved into a sweet smile. Marcus leaned over and brushed his hand lightly over her smooth back and full, rounded backside. He heard her soft chuckle.
“Sugah,” she drawled, not lifting her head,” y’all know this is a public beach. That’s gonna haf’ to wait until we’s alone.”
Marcus laughed heartily. This was the life, enjoying peace and warmth with the woman he loved. It niggled at his consciousness though, that things hadn’t always been this right. He sighed, and glanced back, noticing a girl dressed in a red sarong, with long golden curls standing a ways off. She studied him with knowing eyes, and he felt immense gratitude as he relaxed with his wife.
*****
One by one, they came to the old church, seeking Brother Wyatt. They had all seen her in their dreams. They knew she would redeem them, grant them life, love, peace. Among them, fathers, sons, lovers, and loners, they came to join the Brotherhood, to serve the Mother. They were initiated. They dreamt, and in their dreams, Mother Mariah smiled upon them all.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
******Saturday, August 13th 2005 – late morning******
Galen let out a small moan when he began to wake up, a pair of arms encircled around his waist. Opening his eyes, he found Kate’s body pressed up against his as she lightly kissed him awake. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she teased, Galen smiling at her. He glanced over at the clock, and almost jumped out of bed at what time it was. “Galen, you were arrested last night, I don’t think they’re going to expect you to be at work on time.”
It took a moment for that sink in, and he sat back down on the bed. “You’re making sense again. Stop that.” Turning to Kate, he gave her a quick peck on the forehead. “You’re looking much better this morning. Want me to make up something for breakfast?”
Kate shook her head. “You’ve forgotten what day it is haven’t you?” Kate began to trace small circles on his chest with the tip of her fingers as she waited for his answer.
“No, I haven’t. It’s Saturday, right?” Kate’s look still said that she was waiting for all of the pieces to fall in to place. A playful look came across his face as he added, “Our one-week anniversary?”
Kate sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Galen Eldridge, you’re impossible.”
“What? What??” asked Galen exasperatedly.
Kate leaned in and kissed him deeply. Galen was taken by surprised, but held her body close to his own as she continued to kiss him. Slowly she pulled away smiling “Happy Birthday.”
“What do you know? It is my birthday. That would certainly explain the old feeling.” He smiled back and gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Thank you. I’d have asked for a zimmer frame, but all I want for my birthday is you.”
“Awww, when did you get so cute?” asked Kate teasingly. “But that also means I have to call Age Concern and get them to return your gift.”
“Since you got so sweet and considerate,” he teased back, poking Kate in the ribs. “So, aside from finding out the Bureau has decided to fire me, do we have any plans for today?”
“Plans? Oh no, I thought we could just be spontaneous…” Kate softly kissed him across the chest, then trailed tiny kisses down his torso. Galen sighed in contentment, revelling in the feel of Kate’s lips as they teasingly trailed down his body. Suddenly Kate sat up smiling a little. “Unless that is, you wanted to…” she cleared her throat suggestively “…do, something else…”
“You really are feeling better,” he said, pulling Kate down on top of him and kissing her passionately. They spent the next hour giving each other pleasure, before finally collapsing down on the bed and just holding the other close. “That was wonderful,” he said, kissing Kate and rubbing her back gently. Galen could not resist teasing her. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re trying to get me too tired to leave?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Kate grinning. “You’re just being paranoid, as usual.”
“Maybe, but I’m also cute,” said Galen in mock protest. “You said so yourself.”
“So I did, does that mean you were listening? Doesn’t that break every male code in the handbook?”
“Not every male code,” Galen said. “Just that ones that pertain to getting your girlfriend mad.”
Kate turned to face him, her expression slightly more serious. “I like that,” she said softly. “Not the part about getting me mad, I mean you, calling me your girlfriend. I like it.”
“I like being able to say it,” he replied. “I also like being able to say that I love you.”
Galen rolled his eyes when the cell phone went off. As he moved to answer it, Kate dropped her head in frustration. A minute later, he hung up and tossed it aside. “Well, looks like you have me all day. I’ve been suspended without pay indefinitely because of last night’s adventure.”
“Oh my god! Can they do that?” said Kate sitting up, “I mean you were doing your job, how can they suspend you for it?”
“Well, technically…” Galen sighed as he considered the situation, deciding not to mention that he was never formally assigned the case. “Technically, they can. I didn’t bother with a search warrant.” He smiled at Kate and pulled her close again. “I’d prefer not think about that right now. I could use a shower, though.”
“Oh,” said Kate smiling, “that’s just what I was thinking…”
Hunting Party Part Two
Saturday, 13th August 2005 - 2:30am
Tash and Victor had hunted separately for hours, each one checking in from time to time but the night seemed very quiet. Eventually they were doing more checking than hunting so they began to walk hand in hand down the street, appearing for all the world like a loving couple on a midnight stroll. In theory they should have attracted vampires in every dark alleyway and unlit street they meandered down. But the fish weren't biting. They made the best of it sneaking little kisses and squeezing each other affectionately.
Hours passed and Tash was beginning to get tired. She loved hanging on Victor's arm, and his smile certainly indicated he was enjoying it too. Though sometimes he was hard to read when the glamour gave signals that didn't meet up with what she sensed. She had begun to see a few flaws in the disguise. But it was still incredibly lifelike.
Victor tensed a slightly from time to time when his superhuman senses detected something but those tentative leads rarely panned out. At one point Victor looked behind him several times while they were patrolling a particularly abandoned street. The boarded up windows and doors bore testimony to the economic hard times that had been plaguing parts of the city. Evidence of squatters and homeless drifters were everywhere, and the trash and neglected appearance of the neighbourhood showed that nobody was left to care.
"I think we are being followed," he finally whispered.
"I know," Tash replied, equally quietly. "They've been with us since we turned off Myrtle Street. I get the sense that it's vampires, but they're a fair way back still." She smirked, "I know it's clichéd, but we could encourage them by kissing in a doorway..."
"That's an excellent suggestion. Not to mention that it sounds like a lot of fun," Victor agreed.
They soon found a good candidate - a deep, dark alcove before a recessed door leading to a darkened tenement building. It smelled of stale urine and rubbish was piled in the corners, but it would do for their purposes. Tash stopped and Victor bent his head for a lingering kiss. Tash's sense of the evil following them grew stronger as the vampires drew near. They moved into the doorway, using the cover to ready weapons before returning to their passionate embrace.
Victor had his back to the group but he could count footsteps. "I count five. Two of them are carrying something heavy." Victor dug out a stake for each hand. "You give the signal when they get close enough," he whispered in her ear while appearing to nuzzle it.
Tash felt the adrenaline surge. The cold calm that used to steal over her when hunting vampires had gone long ago, to be replaced by this disturbing zeal. Victor's breath against her neck sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. The combined promise of danger and sex was heady.
Two men and a woman hove into view, their pitch black auras revealing their true natures. Tash whispered, "Now!" and stepped sideways, firing her crossbow at the female vampire as Victor whirled to face their stalkers.
Victor turned to see the group of five lose a member to a well-aimed crossbow bolt. The other two reacted quickly, moving in close to negate the ranged advantage. Victor punched a stake into the biggest one and grabbed the smaller one by the neck. He squeezed mightily but the vamp’s head refused to pop off. Victor had been clumsy with the stake and although it was buried to the end of the shaft into the vampire it was still flopping around on the street screaming in agony. The two vamps standing in the back dropped the corpses they were carrying and charged Tash from where she crouched ready behind Victor who had pinned the vamp against the wall.
Tash couldn't help feeling a little exasperated at Victor. *We are going to have to work on his accuracy. Damn, you’d think after 2000 years of death, murder, wars and massacres that he’d be able to manage a simple stake through the heart!*
There was something familiar about the vampire Victor was attempting to throttle, but she couldn't spare the time to puzzle over it as the two rearguard bloodsuckers charged towards her. Her first instinct was to hurl a vial of holy water at them, but Victor's proximity meant he'd cop just as much. Instead, she executed a forward roll, coming up much closer to the lead vamp than he expected her to be. Her muscled legs propelled her upright as the vampire pulled up short. Seconds later he was starting dumbfounded at the wooden stake protruding from his chest before he disintegrated.
The second vampire, however, steamrollered over Tash, pushing her back into the doorway. Her breath was knocked from her lungs as she was slammed into the hard wood of the door. She stared into the feral, yellow eyes of the bloodsucker that held her by the shoulders.
Victor had been intently trying to twist the vampire's head, but he was strong and had managed to get a finger completely into Victor's ‘eye’ (which wasn't really his eye but it was a sensitive organ and was really beginning to hurt) and was pushing on a nerve in his elbow. Victor was aware of Tash going down, and was willing to forego this vampire to save her. He whipped around flinging the one he had been choking into the one on Tash. The two tumbled in a tangle as Tash rolled to stand next to Victor in a ready stance. There was a brief beat when the three remaining bloodsuckers all faced the two hunters.
The vampire Victor had been strangling looked at Tash, recognition dawning in his eyes, "You!" he exclaimed.
Tash remembered now - he had been with Jem that night Tash had dusted Ebony. *Well, one more present for Jem, then,* she thought. The two hunters charged as two vampires moved to meet the charge. The third vampire ran away while trying to pull the buried stake from between his ribs.
Tash ignored the departing vampire, concentrating instead on Jem's companion. She hoped Victor would have better luck finding the heart of the remaining one.
Her charge veered at the last second, letting the momentum of the vampire's headlong rush carry him too far. His reflexes were fast, though. Tash remembered this from the graveyard, too. *Don't underestimate this one, girl. He's no neophyte.*
He deflected her arm as it swooped down with a stake, sending shockwaves through Tash's shoulder. She lashed out with a quick front kick, catching the vampire in the knee. It barely seemed to register with him. A burst of light appeared in front of Tash's eyes as his fist connected with her face, sending her reeling. He followed up, trying to grapple her, his fangs still dripping red from his earlier kills.
Tash relaxed, letting her body go limp as the vampire drew her closer into his embrace, ready to drain her life's blood from her veins. As he lowered his head to her neck she slammed a knee into his groin. His eyes bulged in surprise and sudden pain. His hold barely loosened, but it was enough for Tash to whip out the stake held in her left hand and thrust it between his ribs.
Victor balled a fist and knocked the vampire charging him hard in the face. The creature of the night was seeing stars as it staggered back. Victor swung and kicked keeping the vampire off balance as it recoiled a step at a time. He finally delivered a round kick to the side of the beast's head, throwing it hard into the pavement. He leaped on top of it and could feel its body collapse under his weight.
While it struggled to free itself helplessly from the additional weight of Victor's demon body, Victor casually reached into a pocket and removed a stake. Holding the creature down, he carefully lined up the stake and shoved. Victor dropped to the ground amid a cloud of billowing dust.
Tash looked over the dissolving body of the vampire she'd killed to see Victor despatch his. Her face throbbed where she'd been hit, but she didn't care. The blood roared in her ears, her heart thumping wildly. It took guts to play the vanquished foe and let a vampire get its fangs that close, but it was also a buzz to tweak death's tail. She grinned at Victor, "Not bad. I couldn't do five all by myself, that's for sure."
She helped Victor to his feet and ran her hands over his chest and down his back, "They didn't hurt you, did they?" she asked.
Victor rubbed his eye, and flexed his sore arm, "I'll recover. No permanent damage. Your nose is bleeding."
Tash absently touched her nose gently with her fingers, her eyes never straying from Victor's. "Yeah," she said, "I've had worse. Much worse."
She gazed at him, fire showing in her eyes. Reaching down, she grasped his arm and drew him back into the alcove.
"Now, where were we?" she asked she crushed her lips against his.
Victor felt as if the timing was inappropriate, but he found it hard to resist her. Soon he too had surrendered to the moment's passion. Even in the darkness of the alcove Victor could feel the eyes of the desperate people of this forsaken corner of the city watching them make love in the street as intently as they had ignored them fighting in it.
*****
The poor guy was being held down by two vampires as a third tugged on the buried piece of wood lodged in his chest. Jem stood off to the side and paced back and forth. "Are you sure it was them?" she asked for the fourth time.
"I saw her. The black woman, and that big white guy. The ones you said to avoid. They got Chris. I barely escaped," he said between grunts as the others pulled on the stick.
Jem walked over and grabbed the stake. With a smooth motion she pulled it out and jammed it back a few more inches to the left. "You should have died trying to protect him. He was worth more than you.” She staked one of the other vamps that were brushing off the dust. "Or you!"
The other vamps moved out to a safe distance.
Jem dropped to her knees, and cried out Chris' name even as her tears started to flow.
Vistas of Surreality
Saturday August 13, 2005. – early morning
On a bench they sat together watching the ocean stillness. He was accompanied on his left by Bunny, whose summer dress was so profound in its whiteness that its reflection of the sun produced a glare difficult to behold. He could just see that her lips were closed, her oval eyes squinting, her brown neck seeming as soft and gentle as the laps of the water against the base of the pier. The sound of a child’s laughter resonated inside her hollow body, though she gave no indication that she was happy. She rested her arm on the handle of Thumper, its tapered shaft delving far into her midriff. There was no blood.
“Why did you do it, Sammy? Why did you kill me?”
“It seemed. . .” Sam’s drowsiness made it hard to think straight. It was a fresh, languid day, and the beauty of the sandy beach amused him. “The right thing to do.”
“But I’m your wife.”
A dolphin ran under the surface of the water a hundred yards offshore.
Sam shook his head.
“I see,” she said sadly. “It’s because I cheated on you. Isn’t it?”
Sam centered on her words, but his mind was cloudy. “You did do that. Didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“His name was. . .Bill?”
“You remember.”
“I think I do, hmm,” he said. “Bunny? Have you ever gone sailing? I’d like to learn to go sailing. Let’s do that for our next anniversary.”
“Listen to me, I want you to know something,” she said. The belabored softness in her voice piqued his curiosity. “I am sorry. I’m very, very sorry for what I did to you. It was wrong, and I know it, and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that.”
“I think I loved you,” Sam said, “once.”
She nodded shyly toward the wood planks at their feet. “I deserve that. I deserve that.”
The splashing of dolphins could be heard as two more of them rose to the surface and cackled.
“Oh Sam. . .”
Bunny began sobbing and choking. Sam raised an eyebrow. She was being terribly emotional, he noticed uncomfortably.
But then she fell across his lap, blood suddenly collecting around Thumper, and it provoked Sam’s lethargy to metamorphose into alarm. Frantically he pressed at the base of the stake, but the blood flowed faster, thicker, from the wound. It bubbled around his fingertips. “You’re going to be all right…”
He had to get the stake out. He wasn’t ready to be a murderer. He took its handle and pulled. The wound gave off an elongated squish sound. . .
On a bench Sam sat fidgeting, his wife’s head in his lap, and before them was the stillness of the ocean. Sam held Thumper far away from her corpse. It was heavy. He discovered a jackrabbit dangling off its killing point, the creature’s body as immobile as one might expect from aborted fetus. Curiously, Sam turned the handle, and the rabbit, about the size of a kitten, flopped around and around on the end of the stick.
“Can we call him Max?” Bill asked weakly.
Sam looked down at his lap into the emaciated face of his friend Bill, who was laid out across the bench in a clean white maternity gown. His hairy, bare legs were spread, and there was no blood.
“Who?” Sam said.
“Max. Our son.”
“This thing is not my son.”
Sam felt ashamed of it. That he could produce something so hideous was a lie. The rabbit’s tongue was hanging from under its long incisors. Its lips were pink and frothy, and its expression was vast and vacant. It had Sam’s blue eyes.
He instantly let go of the stake as though it were a hot potato, and the jackrabbit dropped to the deck without a sound. Thumper, however, clanked hard and rolled to the edge of the boardwalk and over the side. The skewered rabbit had disappeared without leaving a trace of entrails on Thumper’s decorative finish. Sam did not question this.
It made sense.
With great care, he slipped out from under Bill’s head and stood over his friend. Bill closed his eyes and whimpered.
Another presence made itself known.
Quite naturally, as natural as if it had always been there, a man-sized rabbit was standing upright beside Sam on two powerful, furry hindquarters. Quizzically, it surveyed Bill while adjusting its monocle. Then it checked its pocket watch, linked by a chain to its vest pocket. It wrinkled its purple nose at Sam and said, “We’re late.”
Sam understood. “Then you should be going.”
“You will join me?”
“I don’t... know.”
The rabbit regarded Bill with a “tsk, tsk” and said, “Leave her. There is nothing you can do for your wife.”
“He was my friend.”
“Tut, tut. Mother Mariah doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Sam considered the rabbit’s warning. He could hear the dolphins splashing behind them.
“She misses you, you know,” came Bill’s voice.
Sam glanced back at the bench. He said, “Who misses me?”
“Bunny. She wanted me to let you know.”
When Sam checked, the large, white rabbit was nowhere in sight, like it had never existed in the first place. This troubled Sam, because now they were going to be late, though he knew not where to find his Mother Mariah.
His thoughts muddled, he replied, “I’m sorry to hear that, Bill. Take care of her for me, won’t you?”
“I can’t do that, Goober, ol’ buddy. It’s like this: the bitch hates me now.” He chuckled for a heartbeat, but ended up coughing. “Why did you kill me, Goob?”
“I didn’t—”
Bill howled in agony. The man’s leg slipped off the side of the bench, and a throbbing, pale glow enveloped his vagina, growing brighter than a rising star. Sam kneeled close, shielding his eyes from the all-consuming white...
The sun was blinding today, but not warm. It was quite chilly out, a nice brisk day for a swim. Sam listened to the forceful slurping of the waves under the dock. Bill was actually Kimmie, and sitting together Sam and Kimmie shared a panorama of the Pacific that traveled as far as infinity would allow. Kimmie had a stake, Thumper, jutting out of her belly. She rested her sallow fingers on its handle.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t stake me, Graham. I saw you. Look at me. I’m dying here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Next time, try aiming for my heart, Cupid. It’s the only way to get the job done. I’m surprised Hesch didn’t tell you to that. Did he give you this stake, too?”
“I don’t know.”
She yawned. Suddenly, her teeth chattered. “Brr! It’ cold.”
“It’s a good day for sailing.”
Kimmie patted Sam’s knee. “Hesch doesn’t care about you. Hesch is using you. You are Hesch’s vengeance. And, truth be told, I’m using you too.”
“I know.”
“You silly! I didn’t think you were smart enough to figure that out.”
“Oh.”
“’Oh,’” came the gruff, sarcastic reply. “Is that all you have to say?” It was Dennis Aubrey talking. He was sitting to Sam’s right, where Kimmie had been. And it made sense. Of course, Kimmie had never been there.
Sam and his father relaxed side by side on the long, wooden bench, watching the sea change to blood.
“What have you learned, boy?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“You’re a man, aren’t you?” Dad shook his head. He bore the disappointed look that always made Sam want to hide behind Mom. “I have to tell you the truth. Can you handle that or will you start crying like a little girl?”
“I can handle it.”
“It’s like this: you’re mother and I never wanted to have children. We agreed that a kid would slow us down. Until you came along, we had plans to travel the world. When we married, I made her get her tubes tied, did you know that?”
“No, sir.”
“So why were you born? How is that possible?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you so dumb that you were born even though the paediatrician said it couldn’t happen?”
Sam’s eyes grew warm and wet. The tears collected and burned, but did not fall. “I want to understand. I try. But it’s like I just can’t get my brain to work. It’s like I’m walking through life in a dream. I can’t think.”
The man rubbed his chin. “I see. That’s a real pickle. A real pickle. Hey, I feel for you, boy. What are you supposed to do, right? All I can say is, if I were dumb, whew!, I don’t think I could live with myself.”
“I’m trying to be better, sir.”
“Well, if trying is all you can do, then, well, that’s all we can ask, I guess. Yup. Yup.”
“I want you to be proud of me, Dad.”
“I know, I know you do,” he said. Dad massaged his eye sockets with the palms of his hands. “Ah hell, Sam. Can you forgive me my mistake?”
“Forgive you? For what, Dad? You don’t make mistakes. Ever. You’re the smartest man I know.”
“I do make mistakes, boy. For example, there’s you. You’re the biggest mistake of my life. If only you could find it in your heart to forgive me this one twenty-three-year-long screw up.”
Sam swallowed. “I… forgive you... Dad.”
Dad slapped his knees conclusively. “Well shit, don’t take my word for it, you never bothered to listen to me before. Ask your mother. Hey, Sandy! Is it safe to say that our son isn’t at all that we hoped he’d be?”
Sam’s mother had been sitting on the bench to his left. She’d been there since the beginning of time. Her eyes were round, black — like the eyeballs of a rodent — and terrified. Mom reached for his arm but stopped short. She possessed no mouth, only a stretch of rawhide from nose to chin. Tears roamed off her face and exploded at Sam’s shoes.
“There you have it,” Dad said, “look at the shame you’ve caused your mother.”
“I’m... sorry, si-sir.”
“Now, now, no need get blubbery. I know, boy, I know. You are very, very sorry.”
“Please, sir, I’m doing better. I’ve got a life here, a job, some friends, Dad. Please, just give me a chance to show you. I can make you change your mind about me.”
“It’s not your fault,” he said, listlessly rising off the bench. He reached over and took Sam’s mother by the wrist. “You were doomed from the start. Come on, Sandy. Time for us to go sailing.”
Dad turned, dragging Sam’s mother behind. Past her gag of skin, she moaned with fear. She threw out her arm, and Sam tried to touch her fingers, but Dad gave a firm yank, and she acquiesced. Sam struggled to stand, to chase after them, but his calves were made of straw. Flaccidly immobile, he tried to cry out as they walked to the end of the pier. He could do better if only they’d be patient. The words would not leave his tongue.
Dad and Mom continued walking to the edge of the ramp, and gravity pulled them into the surf below.
They didn’t make a splash.
The dolphins were no longer playing in the delicate waves.
On a bench they sat together watching the ocean stillness. It was Sam and a very young girl, her hair all curls and blond. They’d never met before, but they’d been friends forever.
“Don’t be sad,” she said. “It’s a lovely day for singing.”
“Sailing, did you say?”
“Yes, silly. Singing.”
“I can’t sail. Don’t know how.”
“Not even in the shower?”
“I really don’t think so,” he said. He longed to be out there, performing for dolphins at the bottom of the sea. “Not even in the shower.”
“You should try it sometime. I know of a spiffy sailor who sells skiffs down by the seashore. He sings lessons for free.”
“I told you, I can’t sing.”
“How do you know? Have you ever tried sailing?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d fail. I—” his face and neck boiled. He wanted to leap off the end of the dock, hit the water, and burst into a cloud of steam. “Don’t know.”
“Sure you do,” the little girl said. “Tell me why.”
“Because...” He knew he was a loser. But to vocalize it hurt so much. He wanted to cry, to force the pain out. It weighed heavily in his throat, a yawn that just wouldn’t come. The pressure of being a mistake imbued him. “Because I’m nothing,” he said desperately. His hands fell to the seat of the bench and sank into its soft, cottony wood. “Why can’t I understand things? Why am I just so fucking dumb? Please let me not be dumb, God.”
“There is no God,” she said in a state of calm. “Mother is all you need.”
Crashing waves reverberated in Sam’s ears, though the water’s surface remained still. He held his belly and rocked forward and back, the blue of the ocean flickering in his eyes. “Go away,” he said.
“I don’t think you’re dumb, Sam,” she said.
He didn’t want to hear this. The girl was going to try building him up, and somehow that was supposed to make him feel better. As if her kind lies would make him a new man. He couldn’t allow himself to walk with his head in the clouds any more, because it ultimately meant he would fall that much harder. It was safer to stay down here by the sea.
“You, my friend,” she said, “are smart. Smarter than you realize.”
And finally, finally, it happened — that someone would dare utter such an impossible thing! Sam, smart? The first tears of summer dripped off his eyelashes. “Why was I born this way?” He leaned over low and buried his face in her small neck. “I wish I could crawl out of my flesh.”
The girl’s voice became forceful. “Sh-sh-shhh. Be of good cheer. You have so much goodness inside. Let me show you how utterly intelligent you are.”
Hearing it again caused him to cry harder. Speaking was tricky, his nose a hot, soggy mess. “Am I dying? I feel like I’m dying.”
“You are not dying. Do you understand me? You cannot die. You are needed.”
“Shut up!” He reared his head and grabbed her face to shake some sense into her. All at once the sun moved overhead, to the left, to the horizon line, and behind them and to the right. The beach lit up with brilliance... and then settled. His eyes were adjusting.
On a bench they sat together watching the ocean stillness. The girl was omnipresent and nowhere to be seen.
“Sam,” she said, “I want to tell you something. It’s important.”
“Please don’t,” he said.
“Listen to me...”
“No.”
“You are loved.”
“Stop it, I mean it.”
“You are loved.”
“You’re hurting me! Don’t you see that? You’re setting me up. Do you want me to fail?”
“Oh my,” she said gently, an invisible girl touching his chin as plain as day, “I am so proud of you. We will meet again, Samuel Brendan Aubrey, and if you let me I will help you find your brain.” Her voice was fading. “Remember me. I am waiting at the end of the yellow brick road."
Sam spent minutes afterward gasping, his body tingly. Though he felt horrible, it was uplifting, just the same, to finally be empty after being bottled up for so long. He blew out a long shudder. The universe itself came into focus. The sky was clear. It seemed like he could reach up and touch it.
“I think I’m waking up,” he murmured. “Am I dreaming? I’m dreaming.”
He’d been here before, on the verge, so to speak: the gray moments before waking up. With the stages of consciousness descending upon him, he began losing sight of everything that he’d been witness to. “Remember,” he told himself, partly in dream, partly into his pillow. “Don’t forget her after you wake up. I can do it for Mother Mariah, she believes in me...” But he was forgetting fast, unfortunately, as the black paralysis of night faded in pulses. The picture weakened like an instamatic snapshot un-developing.
On a bench Sam sat alone watching the ocean stillness.
A warm, golden sun was breaking the horizon.
And he wanted to be there.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Friday, 12 August 2005 - About 11pm
The night had cooled considerably in the time it had taken for Jade and Sorrow to have their meal. The small street outside was relatively deserted, without a taxi in sight. Wrapping a pashmina around Jade's shoulders, Sorrow steered her towards a nearby park he'd seen earlier, on their way to the restaurant. If memory served, past the park was a large shopping mall and he hoped that they'd have more luck getting a cab there. If nothing else, the brisk, chilly walk would help Jade sober up a little before they got home.
As they walked, Sorrow noticed that despite the park's rather dark and eerie atmosphere there were several people scattered around. He couldn't see them all that clearly because of the shadows but since they were definitely human, Sorrow didn't bother very much. *Couples probably, looking for a little more privacy.* He grinned wryly as he listened to Jade chatter.
"We should have asked Tash and Victor to join us... A belated celebration for you finding a cure... or for my birthday... Do you think they're home? Maybe we could ask them over for coffee... Oh wait. Can't do that since we're suppose to be... Ah hem..."
Sorrow stopped and grazed his lips past Jade's ear. "Ah hem?" he whispered as he pulled her against him. Jade turned in his arms and tilted her head upwards. Sorrow bent his head and kissed her. He lost himself in the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressed against him. He drew back for the briefest of breaths, then lifted Jade in his arms and continued to kiss her as he carried Jade deeper into the shadows of the park.
The wind died as Jade and Sorrow found a secluded hollow. He pressed her back against the trunk of a tree while his mouth ravished hers. Jade's hands skimmed over the thin silk sweater as she revelled in the feel of his taut muscles beneath. As the passion between them continued to build, neither saw the two figures creeping slowly towrds them.
Sorrow trailed his mouth down the heated flesh of Jade's throat. She began to pull at Sorrow's clothes as even that thin barrier became too much for her. A click sounded through the dell like a splash of ice cold water. Sorrow didn't think; he grabbed Jade and simply collapsed, dragging her with him. A crossbow bolt quivered in the trunk of the tree.
Pushing himself up into a crouch, Sorrow instinctively reached for Hizashi, cursing as he realised that it wasn't there. His eyes darted from left to right and his entire stance was poised for battle as he scanned the surroundings for the source of attack.
A sudden rustling of leaves from his right had Sorrow leaping back, narrowly missing the pointed edge of a wooden stake being driven straight into his chest. Before his attacker could recover, Sorrow lashed out with a kick that caught the man square across the jaw and sent him tumbling backwards. *Damn! More hunters!* Sorrow thought that he and Jade had left all that nonsense behind them when they'd left England. These fanatics, apparently, had other ideas and were not going to give up as easily as he'd hoped.
The sound of glass shattering had him glancing worriedly in the direction he'd left Jade. She'd gotten to her feet and was staring at the shards of what'd been a vial of holy water that had hit her squarely on the shoulder and broken on impact. Small cuts marked her skin where the glass had landed but the holy water had none of the hunters' desired effect.
They traded blows for a moment but Sorrow was in no mood to play games. A low kick got through the boy's defence and shattered his kneecap. Sorrow followed the kick with two blows driven into his opponent's stomach and chest.
"Tris!"
Sorrow dove to one side as a crossbow bolt scored a line of fire across his flank. He rolled, stood up and turned to face the now panicked man holding an empty crossbow.
Sorrow stalked forward. "If you're going to use a crossbow," Sorrow said as he dragged the offending weapon out of the terrified man's hands, "get a repeater!" He cast the weapon aside and backhanded the man across the face.
Sorrow looked around for a minute and when he was certain the area was clear, walked slowly towards Jade. Carefully avoiding the glass scattered on the ground, he slipped his arms around her. "Are you all right?"
Jade nodded her head and relaxed against him. "Sorry I wasn't of more help," she said rather sheepishly. "The wine and these heels..."
Sorrow shook his head, rejecting her apology, and held on a moment longer before moving Jade to rest against a tree. "I'll just be a couple of seconds." He walked over to the kid who had thrown the holy water. Sorrow looked over his gasping form and grabbed a second vial of holy water.
"I'll make this pretty easy for you. My girlfriend over there isn't smoking from you throwing this stuff at her and guess what?" Sorrow uncapped the vial and drank down the contents, "It's no problem for me either."
The young man looked at Sorrow in shocked amazement.
"Find another life," Sorrow growled at him, "This one will kill you".
Sorrow turned to the crossbowman, grabbing him by the throat and lifting the man to his feet. "You're too dumb to have found us on your own. I want to know - who set this up?"
The man shook his head, too frightened to answer. "Look. I may not be a vampire but I can cause you a great deal of pain. I want a name now!" The man shook his head violently then the harsh smell of urine filled the air. His eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped in Sorrow's grip.
"Damn!" Sorrow let the man fall and walked back to Jade. He'd no doubt shattered the jaw of the man he'd kicked and the boy wouldn't know a thing.
Sorrow brushed his lips over Jade's mouth "Come on love, let's go get cleaned up."
Close Encounters of the Sweaty Kind
Saturday 13th August 2005 – 5pm
Victor had trained Sam on the graveyard shift. He didn’t seem to notice - or was it mind - that Sam showed up in a worse state than he’d been in the interview. His hair was caked to his temples, sweaty from his mad dash to escape the werewolves, his shirt was partially un-tucked, and he’d wet himself. He’d wet himself! What a way to start the night.
The training progressed smoothly and quickly, and after the first half hour he was already feeling at home. Mr. Tek was good at that, Sam noticed, breaking a person down with nothing but an authoritative glance - then building him up with a fatherly skill, complimenting him when he did well, coaching him when he made a goof.
Although his boss had been busy on Wednesday, requiring that they met late for his first day of training, the actual shift, Sam soon discovered, was not graveyard at all. It was 3pm to 9pm, roughly Monday through Friday, or whenever he was needed. He didn’t know what to make of this. His only working experience had been 11pm to 7am. It would take adjustment, waking up to the daylight.
It was Saturday at 5:05pm. Sam was a little late at getting the floors done. He was finishing up the last room on the second floor, pushing hard at the mop. He stopped to wipe his forehead. Although the job was simple, it was very tiring and he was in no shape to work six hours a day hard labor. He’d get used to it, of course, in time. Sam was determined to do right by Mr. Tek.
Sam plopped the mop in the bucket and wheeled it into the closet, locked it therein with one of the keys he’d been issued. He slipped the large key ring around his wrist and ascended the stairs and found the third-floor maintenance closet. In a short time, he filled another bucket and was ready to continue. He pushed it down the hall, its achy-breaky wheels echoing across the floor. He reached the room at the far end of the hall and stopped. There were noises coming from within.
*I thought I was alone up here.* He propped the mop against the wall and hesitated before investigating further.
Tash whirled and struck out with a spinning back kick, landing a square blow dead centre. She rebounded and followed up with a flurry of kicks and punches designed to drop her opponent. The large, stuffed punching bag swung crazily on its hook. Tash stepped back a pace or two, her bare feet squeaking on the sweat-covered floor, gulping huge lungfuls of air. *Not bad,* she thought.
The day was blisteringly hot again, and Tash had perspiration running in rivulets down her back and into her eyes. She grabbed her bottle of water and sucked greedily at it before wiping her face and neck with her towel. Victor had been right. The open area on the third floor was perfect as a training area.
Refreshed, Tash put down the towel and bottle, and started some gentle tai-chi exercises as a warm-down routine. She’d only got part-way through the first set when she heard a footstep outside, accompanied by some strange clanking noises. She turned to see the new guy, Sam, entering the room with mop and bucket in hand and a startled expression on his face.
Sam found himself in an awkward state. He was here and she was there, some fifteen feet away, and the room was larger than he’d anticipated. He was dwarfed by it. It had been locked his first three nights of work, ‘occupied’. He’d been told not to bother with it whenever it was being used. So the fact that it was open and inhabited by the boss’s girlfriend shocked Sam. He liked working alone. Now he would have to say something. Maybe even something clever. *Oh gosh.*
He stepped in front of his bucket as if it were a stolen item and kicked at it to get it to roll out of the room. “I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am.” He looked away, unwilling to notice the droplets of sweat sliding over her cleavage. “I was told that this room was on my schedule for cleaning.”
The floor was completely wood, no carpeted areas. It would be a chore cleaning all of it, and Sam remembered that he was supposed to employ a special solution while mopping the nicer areas. So many rules to remember. He hoped Tash didn’t know this rule. It looked like he was about to use regular degreaser on its fine finish. But, hey, it was all scuffed up, so maybe it didn’t matter.
He gave the woman a polite shrug. “Should I come back later? It looks like you’re working out.” *Oh, nice one, Sammy boy. Of course she’s working out. Don’t stare at her thingies.*
Tash smiled, "It's okay, Sam. My fault. I forgot to lock the door. But I'm pretty much done here anyway."
She eyed Sam carefully. She hadn't seen him since his interview on Monday. The deep red in his aura around his neck was still there - if anything, it had intensified slightly. Sam seemed incredibly flustered. He was looking everywhere but directly at her, a flush colouring his cheeks.
She stepped to the table that held her gear and perched on the edge of it. "Have a rest for a minute, Victor won't mind. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other a little," she said.
*And maybe put Sam a little more at ease,* she hoped.
Get to know each other. Why did that terrify Sam so? He had to get out of here, excuse himself; go mop the bathrooms. He had to go before she started making fun of him like everybody else. He was going. Right then and there. Right NOW.
“Sure,” Sam said, “I can take a break.” He exhaled his fears into the air, giving up the need to flee, and moved directly across from her seat at the table. He stood staring, unable to think of a thing to say. Tash had very nice breasts.
“So, you’re working out?” he said. *Great. Working out. Why don’t I just ask her if she’s African American?*
Tash felt Sam's rising panic, and for a moment she thought he'd bolt like a frightened rabbit. But then he seemed to collect himself and he stood awkwardly in front of her, staring at her cleavage. *Oh well, we can't expect miracles, can we?* she thought.
She smiled gently, "You'll be more comfortable to be sitting, I'm sure. You must have been on your feet for hours already." She had sat near one edge of the table, leaving plenty of room for Sam, if he needed it. And looking at how ill at ease he seemed, she figured he'd want lots of breathing space.
"I take it you haven't been in L.A. long - how are you finding it so far?" she asked, wondering what could possibly have gone wrong in this man's life to make him so uncertain of himself. She just hoped she didn't trigger anything too unpleasant by her seemingly innocuous question.
She found herself really worrying about the dark red in his aura, and dropped her gaze to his throat. Sam was wearing a v-neck t-shirt which exposed most of his neck and throat. And now that he was closer to her, Tash could clearly see several bite marks, some of them fairly fresh. She felt her viscera contract involuntarily. *Please sit down, Sam,* she willed, once more wishing her telepathy could work both ways.
In a flash Sam was sitting. He had told himself not to, but he did, as far away from her as he could. She had a way about her - like her boyfriend - that commanded obedience. But he didn’t like the way she was eyeing him. He felt judged.
He said, “L.A.’s okay, I guess. “I think it’s… dirty. Like, in my home town, Grants Pass, it’s pretty clean.”
By clean, he thought not necessarily of the lack of crime, which all cities have, or the lack of litter. Specifically the image of the werewolves popped into his head. And Jem, at the bar, and Mantheana, and that guy Chris. And Killroy and Hesch and Mike. All of these things, these monsters, equalled dirtiness. And then there was his cheating ex-wife, Bunny, the dirtiest, low-downiest chapter of them all. Would Sam become a monster when he finally got a chance to kill her?
“I don’t miss home though. I think I’ll stay here. I need the experience.”
Tash blinked. A jumble of strong images flashed through her mind, accompanied by a sense of fear and disgust. Some she even recognised - this poor bastard had encountered Jem. And right at the end, like a sort of codicil, was a name. Bunny. Whatever form of beast this 'Bunny' was, it had hurt Sam badly. So much so that this otherwise meek and unassuming man was contemplating the direst revenge. *Oh, God, he'll never survive as a demon hunter...*
Tash calmed herself. Getting upset wouldn't help Sam's fragile state of mind. She nodded as though at his words, "Experience is always good. Travel broadens the mind, as they say," she grinned. "I'm from St. Louis, myself. Only been here six or seven months. L.A. is an interesting place."
“Really? Saint Louis? That’s so cool!” But then Sam realized he was talking out his behind. He didn’t know where Saint Louis was. He’d heard of it. He HAD heard of it. Best bet: pretend to know where she was talking about. “That’s a really cool place. Is that where you met Mr. Tek? Or was it here in L.A.?”
Tash thought it was highly amusing that people knew Victor as 'Mr. Tek'. *If only they knew...*
"We met soon after I got here. He moved in just across the hall." She figured she'd better leave it at that. She didn't think Sam could handle the rest of that story.
Sam puzzled her; he was obviously being used as a food source for vampires. She'd seen this often enough - vampire junkies who got off on the sensation of having their blood drained. People like that gradually grew weaker and paler, but couldn't break their addiction until it killed them. Tash thought it was far more horrifying than a straight vampire kill.
*But there's no black in his aura. Is it possible he's unaware of it? Surely if he knew about it, he’d make an attempt to cover up the marks?* She shrugged mentally. There was only one way to find out. Go for broke.
She nodded at his neck, "What happened there? Looks like you hurt yourself."
Sam’s hand flew to his neck while he was thinking, *What is she talking about? Oh!* She meant the scabs. No big deal. So he wasn’t adept with razors. He used to shave with an electric shaver before moving here. Now he had to purchase the manual kind.
“Just casualties of Dollar Tree razors,” he said. “Does it look bad?”
Tash sensed his bewilderment and the honesty of his words. *Poor bastard. He really has no clue.* She felt a hard knot of rage in her belly. Some vampire somewhere was going to pay dearly for this.
“Uh, it looks like it's been bleeding a bit. I can get some dressings for them, if you like," Tash suggested. She hated the thought that he was wandering around on the streets with the vampire equivalent of a 'get it here' sign.
Sam slapped his neck three times and checked his palm. It was covered in crust, red flakes, almost brown. “Um…” He didn’t know what the deal was. He’d seen his before, but now it was back. “I’m okay. Don’t bother.” He stood up. “Maybe I should be getting back to work.”
"Sam," Tash started. Then paused. What could she say? She knew he'd seen vampires - and werewolves apparently - and wasn't innocent of the nature of night life in this city. But how to explain that she knew he knew? He was fidgeting, getting ready to flee. *Oh, to hell with it!*
"Sam," she repeated, "Don't go just yet. I'm sorry to be blunt, but I want to know - have you seen any people that weren't really people? The sort of people that can leave a mark like this?"
She tugged her top down slightly and showed him the only clean bite-mark she had - the one just above her left breast. Returning her top to its rightful place, she raised an eyebrow at Sam, watching for his reaction.
Sam sat down on the table with a ‘thunk’ and looked away. “No, I -“ He had seen her nipple down there. *I didn’t just see that!* he thought.
As he calmed down, as Tash gave him a moment to collect himself, he thought about what lay above the breast and he nodded. Hers had been two clean, healed pricks, side-by-side. Not shaving wounds. More than pricks, more like nail holes. Just like his. Except his were many.
Sam had to pause, stammering as he realized that, whatever those ‘pricks’ were, they weren’t cuts he got shaving. It was too horrible to think about. Had the werewolves got him and he didn’t realize it? Had Mike got him? Yeah, Mike! Tash had said “people that weren’t really people.” Did she know about such things? How could she? She was only human.
Hesch was human. Sam was human. And it was slowly approaching night. The night people knew more than most. But Sam couldn’t risk saying too much. He said, “What do you mean when you say ‘people who aren’t really people’?”
Tash looked at Sam sorrowfully, "I think you know what I mean. You've met some, haven't you? Vampires. The word is vampires, Sam."
She looked around at the training room, "Why do you think I work out so hard, with all these weapons? Why do you think my body's covered in scars?" She looked at her bare arms; the myriad scars on them showed plainly, especially the mess in the crook of her left elbow.
She turned her head again to Sam. "I don't want to frighten you, but you have to face up to the realities of living here. And I can see you've been drawn into their world already, even if you can't remember it."
Sam’s heart hit his chin. He gagged. “Y-You know about vampires?”
Tash nodded. She spoke more gently, "Yes, I do. I've known about them for a long, long time. They killed my family when I was just fourteen. Sam, all vampires, no matter what they may say to you, or how sexy they look, are evil. All of them. They are demons living in the corpses of people they killed.
“If you're going to live in L.A. you need to know this, and you need to protect yourself. Here," she undid the clasp on her chain and drew her own cross over her neck, "take this one and wear it always. It won't be perfect protection, by any means, but it will help if one gets close to you. It will flinch, and draw back, and you'll know it's a vampire." She held the chain out to him, beseeching him with her eyes to take it.
More than once in his life, Sam had been offered a cross. It was always offered by a Christian trying to convert him into a God-loving goofball. And in this case, just like always before, Sam flinched, drew back, and accepted the gift. Was he a vampire? He smiled at the thought. For the briefest time, he considered this whole monster thing a fantasy. But he could still FEEL the hot breaths of the werewolves at his ankles. It was no fantasy.
“Okay.” Tash was being very nice. He couldn’t ignore that fact. He held the cross in his hand and tossed it into the air like a coin, caught it, and slipped his head into the chain. He admired it, now around his neck. “Thanks.”
The boss’s girl: a nice person. Sam should have expected this. Only because everything he expected L.A. to be was pure horse-pucky. It was populated by evil things and unlikely friends. He said, “This might sound stupid, but does it work against werewolves too?”
"No, I'm afraid not. You need silver for werewolves. The problem with killing werewolves is that they're people except for three nights a month." A thought occurred to her, "You haven't actually been bitten by a werewolf, have you?"
At Sam's shake of the head, Tash breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Try to keep it that way. Though there aren't too many werewolves here that I've noticed."
Sam was nervously fingering the cross she'd given him. "Don't worry,” she reassured him. “You don't have to start going to church every Sunday for that to work. I'm not what you'd call a Christian, but the cross works perfectly well for me."
Tash continued, "But what worries me most of all is that you've been bitten by vampires and don't remember it. That means you'll have very little defence against them. Is there anything you can remember that seems a bit vague, or hazy, or like a dream?"
Sam didn’t like Tash, he decided! She may have been nice and giving, but she knew too much. It scared him. He stood once again. And yet, there came that instant where one must decide: Do I throw it all away, or do I try to better myself? Sam had come to L.A. for murder, experience, and absolute change. So why should he be scared? Hadn’t he seen enough? What could a few questions hurt?
“I don’t think I’ve been bitten by vampires,” he said, remembering with all his might, his memories like the fades in the blue and purple shirts he’d owned over the years. He was thinking in colors. “Do you think I was bitten?”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “I’ve met two vampires. One was called Jem, one was called Mike. One of them tried to eat me. But he didn’t, obviously. He tried! I also met a demon. Her name was Killroy. Man, what a name. I guess you can say I’ve met all sorts of monsters since I’ve been here. It’s weird talking to you, ma’am. For the first time, my nightmares seem really real.”
But then Sam remembered something startling. It was just a moment of imagery - him lying on table. He was surrounded by people and they were looking down on him like he was a football in the center of a huddle. And they were laughing. One of them said, “It’s my turn. My turn to taste Graham.” Graham was what Kimmie called him, and Sam shook his head violently, snapped out of the waking nightmare.
He looked at Tash. He no longer saw a black face or pert breasts. He saw into her eyes, and she welcomed him. He said, “Oh God, can you help me?”
Tash melted. For some reason Sam was awakening all her maternal instincts. "Of course I'll help you. Any way I can." She stood as well, the top of her head level with Sam's eyes. "I know all this is frightening. And I know it's a hell of a thing to be told all this by someone you've really only just met, but I couldn't let it go after seeing those bites. You've been bitten several times. We have to stop them from getting you."
Tash looked at the table. No stakes on it, unfortunately. Turning back to Sam, she said, "First thing to do is to get you a stake. I know it sounds corny, but really a stake through the heart is one of the easiest ways to kill a vamp. Not that any way is particularly easy, mind you."
A stake. A stake! Sam marvelled at how perfect life could be - that is, when you weren’t being bitten or sucked. “I have one! A friend gave it to me.” Hesch’s fat, toothless mug came to mind. “Will you show me how to use it?”
"Absolutely! Tell you what, when you're done tonight knock on 205 and we'll come up here and go through some basics."
Sam’s attention fell to the mop bucket. How long had they been talking? “Yes. I really should get back to work or Mr. Tek will get mad. I’m supposed to clock off no later than nine.” He walked over to his mop and held it.
“Um, Tash? Um…” He felt guilty that he’d ever thought of her as anything less than a human being. He wanted to say she was great. He wanted to say she was wonderful. He wanted to, but he didn’t.
“Thanks,” he said.
Whatever that meant to her, to him it meant everything ‘thanks’ was created to mean. She understood his pain. She could help him. And she wasn't even asking for money.
Protecting Lazarus
***SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 2005***
***1:15pm – Area 51***
Colonel Laura Wilson of the United States Air Force looked up as a younger gentleman entered her office. She was officially the assistant to the General in charge of Nellis Air Force base near Rachel, Nevada. In reality, she was a member of Majestic Command, and happened to be the commanding officer of Area 51. The younger gentleman sat down in the chair in front of her. “You have something to report about Griffin?” she asked.
“Yes, of course,” he replied, his voice betraying a Scottish accent. “For one thing, you were right to suspect him of doing something with that woman. He was clever in falsifying those documents, but not nearly clever enough.” The younger man looked like he was busy trying to control his laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just a thought from the most recent log. Fooling around with a girl is one thing, but how can a man at his age keep it up like he does? And then there’s the tapes. ‘Oh, yes, yes, right there, that’s it’ then a pause followed by a loud moan and this ‘God yes, don’t stop.’ Don’t think any of us really want to know what they did in the shower. Then-“
“Too much information,” Colonel Wilson said, cutting him off. “Your position as the biggest pervert in MJ12 is already secure.” Unlike some other people in the organization, she couldn’t care less if Griffin was sleeping with a telepath or not. Unfortunately for her, the man sitting across from her did. Knowing him, he would probably want to compare notes with the couple.
“Oh, you’re just jealous because I’m number one,” he teased. The only reason he continued to be allowed to live was because Command felt he was needed to keep the President from knowing Majestic existed. “I’m telling you, it’s positively indecent what they’re doing, trying to knock me off my throne like that.”
“No, you can’t put cameras in,” the Colonel said, anticipating his question. “You always use the wrong transmitter with that, and do something to blow the op. We can’t take that risk.”
“Come on, just one in the bedroom, it’s all I ask. Let me have a little fun for once.”
“No. Please, tell me you came here to report more than that.”
The man sighed and conceded defeat on his video cameras. Maybe if they took the chance in bugging Griffin’s place, he could get it then. “Yes, well, he’s clearly told the woman something. Doubt she knows the entire truth, though.”
Colonel Wilson considered this carefully for a moment before continuing. “Does he know the truth about Atlanta?”
“Probably not.”
“Good. The last thing we need is for Griffin to make this a personal crusade.” She drummed her fingers on the desk as she considered her options. “Continue with the surveillance. Arrange to bug his apartment as well.”
“Any other orders?”
“We have to keep Griffin on suspension for a while, to avoid raising his suspicions. The investigation into his ‘misconduct’ will ultimately prove fruitless. We’ll give Griffin and his allies enough rope with which to hang themselves.”
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
*** Saturday, August 13, 2005...around 3 pm***
Paul sat in the Club Narcosis and watched the various creatures eat, suck, smoke and slurp their miscellaneous concoctions. He wasn't impressed at the clientele that frequented the club but they were a ready source of income and muscle. He needed muscle today. He tapped two vamps sitting at the bar. "Care to make a quick $300? It will involve some violence; you in?"
They actually seemed to consider it so Paul upped it $500 because he didn't want to wait. These losers would probably end up dust anyway. He walked away from the bar while those two paid their tab. *Losers.* He'd have waived it if they asked.
On the way out he saw a huge spiny creature standing in an alcove. It had its long narrow snout stuck into a frozen drink in a novelty glass. *Another winner, but in some circles he'd be considered scary without the paper umbrella.*
He made the same offer to the creature he had made to the vamps. Soon, the four were traveling in a Hummer with blacked out windows towards Paul's business appointment.
Three days ago, Paul got a report that an weapon's dealer catering to "special needs" clients was opening on Bundy Drive. It was only three blocks from Paul's operation in the underground beneath the ruined shell of The Beazor.
Since Kain had disappeared, Paul had been the first to take over Beazor Enterprises. He was not the only one to try but was the only one who had survived this long. Part of what made Paul successful, he liked to think, was the fact he played it straight. No arena of death, mystical weaponry, or Cloch Cosan nonsense.
*And no one to answer to.* Paul was the top of the pecking order.
Of course business had suffered. Word got around the Kain was gone and a lot of regulars refused to do business with Paul. But letting in competition wasn't going to help him get that business back. Hence, Paul's visit to 'The Armoury' on Bundy Drive was important to him.
Paul had done the strong-arm act many times. This was going to be pretty routine. Threaten the owner and watch him sweat. If he didn't back down, cause a little mayhem then offer some quick cash and buy him out while he was desperate. The only thing that ever fucked this kind of operation every time was a hero.
They pulled up in front of the store and Paul slid out of the Hummer, opened the door and the two vamps ran inside and took their positions inside the door out of the direct sunlight. Paul then walked in a casual manner followed by the spiny creature.
He strolled past the elaborate displays and carefully appraised the merchandise with the eye of a true professional. He approached the counter where Reah had stopped paying attention to her book and was watching this quartet closely.
"Excuse me. My name is Paul. Just Paul. Are you the owner of this shop?" he asked in an even professional tone.
Reah closed her book slowly. *What the hell is that?* she thought at the sight of some giant echidna. "Um, no sorry, I'm not. Can I help you at all?" Reah asked.
"I think you can, miss" he said in a smooth tone before switching to a more threatening one, "You can tell him he's got ten minutes to get his fat ass out here before we start destroying this place. If you gotta call him, I suggest you start."
He looked over his shoulder at the two men and the monster that was with them. He tapped his watch and held up a hand twice. Military hand signals for ten minutes. The others had moved to strategic spots around the shop.
Paul turned back to Reah, and raised an eyebrow at her still being there. "You like living dangerously, I can tell." he said to her flatly.
*Who the hell does this guy think he is?!* "He's not available." She smiled menacingly at him, "I suggest that you leave unless you want to be hurt." She glanced twice, unsure of the giant echidna looking demon, before flashing another smile back at the man.
She noticed the other two companions; pale fellows. Reah automatically assumed by the echidna demon in his company it was pretty safe to say they were vampires. *Not very big ones though. Shouldn't be much of a problem.*
One of the vamps was standing near Darling's new case along the wall behind the entrance facing the sparring area. It had been installed that afternoon. *Euch! Well if anything should happen to her I won't complain much.*
Paul watched her eyes. He knew the kind. Parents murdered by vampires, tough childhood on the streets, vengeance, killing, yadda-yadda. He didn't care. She had the poise, balance and manner of one who kills in her free time. He stood up straight, reached into his jacket and pulled out the Desert Eagle .50 caliber he had ordered last week. He had not planned on using it today, but it seemed a good and threatening weapon and he was here to threaten.
Reah's face hardened as he reached into his jacket and pulled out the gun, *Fuck!* She shot her glance back up at him in warning as she went to step back.
The hand cannon whipped out to arm's length through the round voice-hole in the security wall. "Look, if he's here, get him. If he's not, I'm sorry you just got recruited into the dead-salesgirl-as-a-message club."
She stiffened slightly and rolled her eyes, "Lame much?" Then moved to dive behind the counter for her katana, Sharier, near the security doors. *Trust Joe to be away AGAIN and leave me to deal with these wankers!*
Paul leaned close to the wall and saw her butt wiggle low across the floor but he could not twist his wrist sufficiently to aim the gun at her through the narrow hole. He realized he was going to get stuck if he pushed any more so he pulled his arm back just as a long blade of carefully crafted steel slung down where his hand had been. The end of his brand new gun was missing about an inch of barrel.
"Rowdy time, boys!" he shouted while taking long steps back from the counter, "We have a live one!"
Reah landed on her feet and proceeded to flip herself over the counter through the one-foot gap between counter and Plexiglas. She followed through on a sidekick to the man and sent him tumbling back before he could manage to pull out a second gun.
Paul slammed into a display case breaking glass and jumbling the contents. One of the vampires broke a case and grabbed a broadsword inside while the other stupidly moved closer. The echidna-monster stood and stared, the spines on its back rising menacingly, but it didn't charge.
Reah turned after she landed to face the rest of the party. Three metres away from her was one of the vampires approaching and she automatically reacted by stepping forward in a fluid motion and striking with her katana. There was a moment when Paul was sure she had missed the vampire. Then its torso slid a few inches off his body before disintegrating into dust.
The other bloodsucker had whirled the broadsword in a vicious overhead arc at her. Paul reached into his ankle holster and pulled out the .357 he kept there. He steadied and aimed. He gently squeezed the trigger as the broadsword was about to hit.
Reah whirled to face the other vampire and noticed the sword bearing down on her. She dodged and rolled out to the side before spotting the glimmer of a gun aimed at her at the edge of her vision. She quickly came up not far from the vamp's side just as his sword clanged into the ground. She pulled him in front of her as a shield as the bang of the gun went off.
Paul watched as the bullet hit the vampire in the centre of the back. He didn’t care, it wasn’t deadly to the vamp anyway. The vampire screamed in pain as the bullet punched though his torso and out his chest, catching Reah in the arm.
The vampire kicked her off himself and pulled his sword around to attack, point first this time…
Paul jogged to the front door and was about to leave when he noticed the spiny creature just standing there at the front of the store. Paul tapped it on the shoulder, "Are you going to fight, or am I paying you to be an in-store display?"
The monster mutely nodded (Paul had never heard it speak) and strolled forward on its stumpy legs. Paul had not chosen this crew for their brains or their fighting ability but for the intimidation factor. It was clear they would not survive long against this Hunter. Paul exited the store and heard the *poof* of the vamp's disintegrating form. *Goodbye,* he thought, *And don't worry, I'll make her pay in full.*
Reah swivelled around, following her katana through as she dismembered the vampire and noticed the man sneak out of the building, *Trust!* The giant porcupine had started to slowly stroll in her direction. Bemusement built up in Reah as she watched the pin cushion approach her, *Better go meet him.*
The monster stood in an aggressive stance that would have been more convincing if it had teeth or even a face. Instead the doleful black eyes of the thing stared blankly forward like a rubber monster in a bad Japanese movie.
Then with a swipe it threw a punch with one arm and an elbow with the other. The creature's slow movements were deliberate - not its nature. A long quill on its elbow sliced through her jeans leaving a shallow but stinging slice.
Reah deflected the punch. *It's not all that strong at least,* she thought as she hopped back to think about how to attack this thing.
She noticed the display case at her side; it looked heavy, but at the speed of the pincushion she had plenty of time. Leaning into it with all her weight she pushed it over with some effort and it came down, knocking the echidna thing to the ground as it slowly tried to dodge it. It landed on its back with a thud, stumpy legs kicking madly about as it tried to get itself up.
*Hehe!* Reah grinned triumphantly as she moved in closer to finish it off. As she was readying Sharier, she realised the case she had toppled on this thing was Darling's cage. The door was open and the python was nowhere in sight. *Mother...* she gulped as she looked for Darling in the immediate area, when the demon slung a long arm at her face.
Eight-inch claws missed her nose by fractions of an inch thanks to her well-trained reflexes. A long spine from the thing's arm scraped across her cheek. She could feel it swelling even as she concentrated on the more immediate problem. "Bloody hell!"
She leered at the pincushion and struck with Sharier at the offending arm, but was deflected by the spikes. She twisted her body out of the way as another long arm slung at her and missed. She grabbed one of the spines on the arm as it passed, tearing it off. The beast stiffened and shivered in pain silently, and she delivered Sharier home. The echidna’s back arched, quivering, before it slumped back to the ground in a heap.
Reah wrinkled her nose at the stench that had almost immediately begun to waft from the corpse. It caused tears to well up in her eyes.
Subconsciously she raised her fingers to her cheek and winced as the scratch's sting. It was swollen, and her right eye was staring out through a permanent leer. "Craptacular!" She sighed and looked down to the ground, noticing the toppled case on the ground.
"Shit!" Instinctively she jumped back, remembering that Darling was somewhere loose in the store.
Unwillingly, she got down on hands and knees and crawled around, "Darling! Darling! Where are you?" She shuddered, *I hate that name… if not as much as the damn snake!*
She jumped as something warm seemed to run down and cover her left arm. She slowly looked at it, a repulsed look already on her face. Nothing was there that she expected. Instead Reah noticed the blood that was slowly running down her arm from a wound. Some of it was already congealing around the opening.
*Man, that bastard's gonna pay!* Through all the adrenaline she hadn’t felt the gunshot hit her through the vampire. Now she felt every pain in her arm as it throbbed and stung, and her hand felt numb.
Raising her arm to her chest, Reah patted around on the ground for something to bandage the wound. Her hand brushed across some smooth and slithery skin. She jumped and screamed when she realised what it was, then looked down to her hand and noticed it was the tip of Darling’s tail, about five inches of it. She piffed it over the other side of the room and calmed herself down.
"Man, is Joe gonna be pissed!" She was now looking for a 5’7" snake.
She eventually found Darling curled up underneath the shelving racks and gingerly reached under to try and get her, feeling like she was about to be sick as she touched the scaly body. A hiss came from beneath. "Actually you seem to be fine right there I don’t ya?" Reah nodded to herself as she pulled her hand back and instinctively wiped it on her pants. "Joe can get you. I’ll just sit here and wait." Another hiss came. "Or I might get a broom and sweep up that side of the room." She jumped up eagerly, wincing at the sudden jab in her arm, and made her way to the opposite side of the room from Darling.
Joe entered the store about half an hour later while Reah was busy holding her arm and staring blankly. "Why is there a closed sign uuhhh…" His words trailed off as he gawked at the devastation of the store, "What the hell happened he…?" He trailed off again at the sight of Darling’s case toppled on its side. "Darling!"
Reah leered at him and slapped him hard across the face with her good, unshot right arm. "Darling?" She shrieked. "Darling?" She slapped his stunned face again. "Your precious ‘Darling’ is under there." She pointed sharply at the wooden case with her left arm, "OW! Bloody hell! But in case you’re interested, I was shot in my fucking arm, and scratched across my bloody face by that!" She pointed sharply with her left arm again at the echidna demon, "AARH! Man I gotta stop doing that." She rubbed her arm bitterly.
Joe seemed torn between his shop, Darling and Reah with no clue to what action he should take by the bewildered look on his face. Then he cocked his head at her, "Are you winking at me?"
She slapped him again.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
****Saturday 13 August 05 – Around 8pm****
“Shut up, Skye!” Jess shouted as her dog continued to bark as loudly as possible and ran into the kitchen trying to trip Jess up after hearing the phone ring. She took the phone from the dog’s mouth, wiped it with a cloth and put it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hi Jess!” William’s voice came clearly down the phone.
“Will, hey. Can you just hang on one second while I put Skye in another room?” She left the phone on the surface and quickly shut Skye into one of the spare bedrooms.
“OK, back.”
“Good, just ringing to tell you you’ve got yourself a slayer, Eleanor Wyatt. I’ll be in Los Angeles tomorrow if that’s okay with you?”
“Sure, I’ve got nothing planned but it’s not much notice.”
“I know, I’m sorry about that, but it’s all we can do, she’s already been here a week without a watcher, while we tried to find her one,” he said then gave Jess the flight details.
“Get some time off work, you can stay for a while if you want.”
“That’d be nice. I’ll see what I can do.” He paused for a minute and Jess heard some whispering on the other end of the line. "Sorry, I’m needed in a meeting in a minute, so I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll email you Eleanor’s details. Bye.”
“Okay, bye.” Jess hung up the phone and went back to her cooking.
Down Montebello Way
******Saturday, August 13th 2005 - 9:34pm******
Darkness had already descended upon the streets of Montebello by the time Kate and Galen stepped out of the cinema. Still the night was warm and the streets were relatively busy - crowded with Saturday night partygoers. Galen wrapped an arm loosely around Kate's waist as they walked through the busy street.
"I mean that film re-wrote the meaning of bad films, I should have known I suppose - the Howard Hawks version was definitive! How could they possibly think Spielberg could do a remake of 'The Big Sleep'? I mean, fancy casting Arnold Schwarzenegger as Philip Marlow that is just wrong on so many levels I can't even begin to tell you!"
"Yes, yes honey I know - you only told me about fifty times during the movie," Kate smiled, looking up at Galen. Despite having just endured possibly the worst movie ever made they'd actually had a really good time. "Besides you chose the movie - last time I make that mistake," she laughed playfully.
Galen laughed along with Kate before grinning playfully. "It wasn't as bad as that remake of The Scarlet Letter you picked out the other night. Before you say it, no, they shouldn't have cast Miranda Richardson as Hester Prynne." That movie had been so bad they shut off the VCR halfway through.
"Oh, don't you dare do that," Kate said.
"What? Point out that we both can't select a good movie if our lives depended on it?"
"Hey! You liked 'The Count of Monte Cristo' - unless that was just a ploy to get laid."
"No, I actually liked that one, honey." Galen bent down and gave Kate a quick kiss. "That's just your own paranoia showing through."
"And you said that wasn't contagious." Kate laughed as they left the hustle and bustle of North Montebello Boulevard and crossed over to West Beverly Terrace. The streets had been so busy they'd had to park the car a good ten-minute walk from the main stretch. They continued to walk and talk, not really noticing how the crowds of people slowly began to thin out until they were all alone. Kate looked up at the street sign, 'North Greenwood Avenue' - the car was parked a few yards down the street underneath the only streetlight.
Kate grinned and pulled Galen to a stop. "So, did you like your birthday present?" she asked smiling.
Galen smiled kind of awkwardly, fumbling in his jacket pocket for the CD Kate had given him, "Urm I hate to break this to you but I have no idea who 'Puddle of Mudd' are…"
"Oh no, not that," said Kate smiling wickedly, "I meant your other present…" She leaned in close as she pulled his arms tighter around her waist. "I'm wearing it," she whispered softly in his ear.
"You're… wearing…?" Galen looked confused for a moment.
"…Underneath," Kate smiled as she took his hand and pushed it further down from her lower back.
"OH!" Galen returned the wicked smile, gently nuzzling Kate's neck as he let one of his hands trail down her spine, sending shivers through her body. "You are such a tease… I love it." Kate giggled as he ran his hands over her body in a playful attempt to feel what she was wearing beneath the thin satin fabric. "Hmm, I want to open my present now I think."
Kate giggled again as he continued to hold her in a close embrace. "I think we'd better go home before you get arrested again," she said playfully.
Galen's grin increased. "Are you sure my old man heart can take it?"
"Well I don't mind taking things nice and slow, if you think you can keep up, being so old and all."
Galen laughed and was about to lead the way to the car when he stopped still in his tracks. A young couple stood barring the way. Kate sensed a feeling of death flowing from the couple - it made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Galen looked like he was about to push through the two vampires but Kate held on to his arm, holding him back.
The male vampire smiled, reciprocating Kate's recognition of what they were. Slowly he wrapped an arm around his companion. "Oh I do love it when the food comes all nicely wrapped don't you Bren?"
The woman yawned in boredom flashing her fangs in the pallid moonlight. "Personally I don't care as long as it's fresh."
"Yeah well these two look pretty fresh to me."
Brenda looked up, running her gaze over her prey. "Don't they just?"
Galen was about to ask Kate why she had stopped him when he noticed the concerned look on her face. That was when the recognition of the vampires clicked. The woman's fangs were a dead give-away. His first instinct was to tell Kate to run, but that would hardly work well. He made a show of noticing the woman's fangs. "You know, you really should get those looked at."
Brenda gave a small laugh. "Think someone wants to play the hero."
"Actually, what I'd really like to play is the piano," Galen said, allowing his hand to hover near his jacket. Kate prevailed upon him to leave the gun at home, resulting in Galen grabbing a couple of stakes instead. "Only we could never afford the lessons. Might have to settle for playing hero instead."
"Ooh a funny guy!" said Brenda, "I like funny - don't I David?"
"The lady loves funny." David grinned widely, revealing his fangs. "And I always had a thing for redheads."
"Are you guys gonna make a move or should we order drinks while we wait?" asked Kate hesitantly as Galen covertly passed her a stake behind his back.
"What do you think?" asked Brenda politely. "Ready for the appetisers? I'll have the American Hero and you can have English over there."
David's eyes flickered across Kate's body hungrily. "Sounds good to me…"
Galen remained steady as the two vampires advanced. Kate moved backwards while David was busy moving forward. When Brenda reached Galen he moved, using the momentum of her own attack to swing her down. Grabbing her hair, he aimed her body and watched while she crashed through the window of the back seat.
Brenda recovered from the attack in time to block Galen's attempt at staking her, clearly annoyed by the unexpected resistance. Humans weren't supposed to fight back, or even know they were facing vampires! "You ruined my hair," she shrieked, punching Galen in the stomach. He doubled over, and she brought her knee up to his face. Hitting the ground, Galen caught a brief glimpse of Kate fighting.
***
"Well aren't you a pretty little thing?" David said as he advanced towards Kate. "Probably the prettiest thing I've had to eat in my unlife!"
"Don't count on it," said Kate as she tightened her grip around the stake behind her back. In one rapid moment she launched herself towards the vampire, the stake aimed at his heart. David caught her, holding her wrists tightly in his hands.
"So what are you anyway? Some kind of wannabe Vampire Slayer?" He twisted the hand that held the wooden stake and Kate cried out as he forced her fingers open and the stake dropped to the floor. "'Cause I got to say your technique is certainly lacking."
"How about this for technique?" she asked, raising her knee hard into his crotch.
David moaned loudly and let his grip go. Kate regained her balance just in time to see Galen drive the female vampire into the car window. Kate held her hand towards David and with one swift motion propelled him into the middle of the road.
"What the…?" he moaned as he staggered to his feet.
Kate picked up the stake and walked into the road. "Damn vampires in this country think they run the show. Back home they know their place."
"I'll show you where your place is!" The vampire growled in anger as he swung out a punch.
***
Galen sniffed and sucked some of his own blood back in his face. It was a revolting and unpleasant experience. Fate permitted him just enough time to wonder how David had got into the middle of the street before having to get back to his feet. "Not feeling so funny now, are you Mr. Comedian?" Brenda asked, charging at him.
He brought himself down to a crouch, never saying a word while lunging forward and tackling the vampire. One of the things that was hammered in to him over the years was the simple rule, no unnecessary conversation, as it only served as a distraction. Galen gripped the stake in both hands, plunged it down in the vampire's chest, and missed the heart by about two inches.
"Nice try," Brenda said, flipping him over with the stake still in her chest.
Galen started to reach in his jacket again, this time frantically looking for his lighter. Brenda grabbed his wrists as he found the small Zippo, and pinned them to the ground above his head. He flipped the wheel then tipped the flame in towards her hand.
Setting the female vampire on fire resulted in Galen stripping off his jacket, and spending a minute rolling around on the ground. Fighting through the pain in his upper thighs from new burns where her legs had been, he grabbed the stake then ran to help Kate.
***
Kate took the punch hard in the face, but despite her head spinning from the blow she managed to avoid the second. The vampire kicked Kate back and she flew into the side of the car. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. He slammed her head against the hard metal of the doorframe and raised his fist to strike again.
Kate caught the fist as it flew towards her face. She pushed him back, delivering a roundhouse kick to his head sending him flying. With another wave of her arm Kate projected him back further, running to keep up with him she kicked him again and propelled him back again with another gesture of her hand. With a crumpled moan David hit the far wall across the street.
The two continued to fight in the darkness across the street. "Why won't you just goddamn give it UP?" David growled as Kate scrambled to her feet to avoid another blow. Suddenly David looked up, distracted by the pained screams of Brenda as her burning body rapidly combusted into ash. "Bren?" he whispered sadly.
"She's going to hell," said Kate firmly, raising the stake high. "Why don't you join her?"
David turned back only in time to see the stake as it protruded through his heart. "Oh shit!" he cried, only moments before his body disintegrated into dust.
Galen could feel the beginnings of the dull ache in his legs that told him the adrenaline rush was starting to wear off. By the time he reached Kate, there was a sharp shooting pain in his right leg. Kate had to sit down, catching her breath momentarily. He kneeled down beside her and noted Kate's new head wound. Holding two fingers up he asked, "Kate, darling, are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?"
Kate smiled weakly and took Galen's hand in her own. "I'm fine really, nothing," she winced at the throbbing in the back of her head, "nothing that a couple of aspirins won't cure." Galen passed her a cigarette as he lit his own. They sat in silence for a moment as the dying flames of Brenda eventually burnt out. Kate stubbed her cigarette into the ground, "Want to go home now?"
Galen put his own cigarette out on the ground and smiled back at Kate. "That sounds like a wonderful idea." He accidentally put pressure on his right leg, and screamed out in pain. Kate looked at him with concern as he explained what happened. Kate manoeuvred under his arm, helping him take pressure off the leg as they hobbled back to the car. "Vampires need a warning label that reads 'Caution: Highly Flammable'," he joked on the way back.
"That's a funny thing about playing with fire," said Kate as she climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Someone always gets burned."
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
***Saturday 13th August, 2005…9:47pm***
Gravel crunched under Reah’s feet and skittered about as she drudged tiredly along, wheeling her bike through the motel car park up to her room, her left arm reminding her of the shot she took earlier as she gritted her teeth and forced it to push. She hadn't gone hunting tonight; she was too tired for once. Plus she figured the day wasn't entirely wasted - she had still managed to dust two vampires and slay a giant pincushion.
The light just outside the reception room she just rechecked into flickered on and off disturbing her vision through the corner of her eye. Irritated, she casually pulled out her magnum, aimed, and pulled the trigger. A pop of shattering of glass followed the burst of gunfire as Reah continued on back to her room in undisturbed darkness.
The was a muffled voice inside a building before a creaking door behind her banged open, “Hey! Whaddya think yer doin? Ya’ll afta pay fur that!” Came the sound of the pissed off motelier.
After a moment's hesitation, Reah put her gun back into her coat and decided to just ignore the man, and continued pushing her bike up to her room. It was only worth about a dollar anyway.
She rested her bike on her hip as she fiddled around in her coat pocket for the key to the door, she ignored the scrubby looking man that was leaning drunkenly against the weatherboards of the rooms and staring at her through glazed eyes with a sleazy grin on his face. He pushed himself up from the wall, swaying as he balanced himself before staggering over.
“Hey there,” he slurred and nodded drunkenly at her as he darted his eyes down her body, nearly falling back before catching his balance. “Nice legs! What time do they open?” He leaned forward giving Reah a rotted toothy grin and a good whiff of his putrid stench.
Groaning, Reah threw her head back in agitation and shoved the door open when the key finally gave way in its lock, slamming it into the wall of the narrow entry and rebounding off to bump into her bike's front wheel as she hauled it into her room before slamming the door in the drunk's face.
She kicked out the bike stand and rested it in the more open area of the room, tossed her keys on the bench and strolled lazily into the bathroom to stare numbly at her slightly distorted reflection in the cracked mirror. After a long moment she sighed. Her right cheek hadn’t swelled as much as she thought it had, but it was still reasonably swollen and had an angry redness around the scratch, giving her a permanent leer. Lifting her arm up she touched the scratch and winced as it still stung.
She fumbling through her pockets and pulled out some good old fashioned Dettol and antiseptic cream she’d picked up on her way home from work to wash and dress the cut. The room was soon soaked in the overpowering smell of Dettol. She gritted her teeth as she slowly unravelled the bandage around her arm and pulled it carefully off the wound it so wished to cling to, and tossed the bloodied rag into the basin.
Twisting her arm around, she stared at the deep cut from the bullet that had only just missed grazing her bone and had luckily only damaged tissue, but it would still leave a scar. Reah silently cursed the man who’d shot her while cleaning it thoroughly, getting rid of all the blood that had congealed around it and stained her skin, then bandaged it up with a proper clean bandage she’d got with her antiseptics.
Trudging back out of the bathroom, the scent of the Dettol had managed to travel into the main area, Reah threw herself onto the bad landing with a muted thump, sprawled on her stomach and her face planted in the pillow. “I hate this place.” She mumbled tiredly around the pillow part in her mouth before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
Bumpin' at Chevrine's
***Saturday, August 13, 2005 -- 9:30 p.m.***
Parasol and Chinaka had barely spoken since that night she asked that ludicrous question. Like Chinaka’s blood is so special that Parasol would throw away 150 some odd years of unlife-choice just to eat her. Small praises for the staggering of their schedules. Parasol was so annoyed with her, she didn’t want to talk to her anyway.
It was way after sunset and Parasol was restless, rattling around the big house, turning on and off the television, looking out of the front window, walking around the garden. Chinaka was probably at the gallery. Parasol guessed she had been there all day. Amazingly, she heeded Parasol's suggestion and bought the space from Crenshaw. This was accomplished well before Parasol had gotten to LA, but there was certainly a lot to be done before Parasol reported for work. Hussy could stay there all night, as far as Parasol was concerned.
*Forget this sitting around pissed off at those Sex and The City bimbos.* She still hadn’t recovered from Carrie sleeping with Big while sweet uninteresting Aiden was sanding her floors.
Parasol wanted to distract herself from her annoyance. Best way to do that, she always found, was to doll up and go out. She wanted to go find a club somewhere and dance. Not a typical vampiric emotion, granted, but Parasol had learned to not turn her back on her human emotions. They filled her with satisfaction. And screw Chinaka if she thought that after all this time – all these generations, she, above all the family to come before her, would be the one that Parasol would go all demon, drain her dry and cavalierly toss her body in out in the backyard for those freaky alley cats to devour.
*Her mama always called her a fast hussy.*
Okay. Parasol had enough of this sulking. She went to her bedroom to doll up. She thought the low slung blue suede jeans would do – didn’t need just Richard to appreciate her tush. Plain white shirt on top, unbuttoned to dangerous lows with that really pretty denim blue La Perla bra. Yep. That’ll do.
Parasol took a shower and put on the Japanese robe to put on make-up. She grabbed the digital camera she always kept on her dresser, sat at the vanity facing the desert of her mirror and got out her make-up bag. She licked the tip of the pencil and drew it across her upper lids. She pointed the camera lens toward her and clicked.
The image in the tiny flip-out screen showed her face and confirmation that her eyes weren’t outlined in some crazy bag lady fashion. Good. Next phase. Shadow – Parasol was partial to brown; less could go awry. She didn’t want to walk out of the house looking like a Maybelline ad -- ice blue eyelids hung on Kim Basinger.
Next. She actually still had that crock of Indian Earth that was nearly as old as she was. That’ll do for the brown. She draped the color across her eyelids. Took a picture. Looked at the photo. Looking good.
She dusted the same Indian Earth over her cheeks. Took a picture. Good.
She hit her lashes with the Lancome mascara. Took a picture. Okay.
Finishing touch was that nice flat brick red Shiseido lipstick. Parasol slicked it on her mouth, pressed and pouted into the camera. Took a picture. Looked at it.
Finished. She seriously missed her reflection. Not vanity. Just convenience. Okay, maybe a little vanity.
She dressed up in her hootchie-mama gear and took one last picture. She was together; nothing askew. She walked downstairs, and into the kitchen to pour a nice tall glass of the kosher blood. She’d be hard-pressed of course to take to killing anyone, but just in case she thought it best to leave the house with a full stomach. With her heels clicking on the terra cotta, she grabbed her keys off the long slender table in the entryway and headed to the garage to her baby.
Parasol eased the Sunliner toward MLK. Parasol knew that if there is a good club to be had in any city in America, it would be on a Martin Luther King Boulevard.
The Sunliner pulled up into the parking lot of “Chevrine’s.” Yep, full to the rafters with knuckleheads, all with their pants hangin’ off their asses. Parasol so wanted to tell them that she didn’t really care to see their drawers hanging out… but everyone had to choose their own fashion path. She liked the '70s, when everyone’s drawers were UNDER their clothes. But each age had their thing. Frankly, Parasol had been shocked when they stopped wearing stockings with bathing suits, but considering that she was out in the night with her bra hanging out, it was a good bet she'd gotten over it.
She pulled the Sunliner’s top up, got out and set the alarm, which would have to do until she could find someone to cast a spell that would cause anyone laying their hands upon her baby to suffer the torture of the damned.
Chevrine’s dance floor was thumping with rhythm. Everybody dancing was going their own way, but somehow moving to the backbeat in unison.
Parasol stood at the top of the stairs looking into the pit of undulating bodies listening to what passed for music these days. Despite that, her hips were swinging to the backbeat as well. She walked around the balcony overlooking the dance floor to the bar and sat in the sole empty seat. Luckily, it was to the side of the mirror behind the bar. She didn’t really feel like explaining, if anyone in here was coherent enough to notice. The bartender immediately noticed her, however, and sidled up asking what was her pleasure.
“Scotch. Single malt. Wrap it around three cubes of ice,” she instructed and he left to concoct it. Parasol turned on her stool to regard the dance floor.
“Was your father a thief?” a voice whispered into her ear.
Parasol swiveled to look into the face of a young man of about 24. She took a long moment, letting her eyes drift over his body. From bottom to top he wore Timberlands, those godawful pants hanging off his ass, a tee-shirt with a Rolling Stones logo on it covered by a big denim shirt. He had cheesy fake bling-bling everywhere, necklace, rings, earrings. She finally regarded his face chock full of a smile with more teeth than seemed normal, incisor accented by faux bling-bling as well. Topping what used to be considered prison garb was a black do-rag wrapped around his head.
*MTV has ruined the black man.*
“I beg your pardon?” Parasol faced him fully on her stool. The bartender brought her scotch.
“Was your father a thief?”
“No,” Parasol said flatly wondering where this was going; wherever that was, it would certainly be without her.
“Then who stole the stars and put ‘em in your eyes?” He leaned toward her with his hand on the bar and grinned, chomping at a wad of gum too small to help his breath.
Parasol watched him chew the miniscule cud for a minute. *Classy with a capital ‘K’*
“That it?” she inquired. He kept grinning.
“Y’know, I’d take that back, because it’s broken,” Parasol said sarcastically. She relegated him to her past and looked over his shoulder onto the dance floor. She slung her purse criss-cross over her shoulder, grabbed her scotch and stood up. “Really – this has been fun. Okay - bye.”
She left him leaning on the bar shaking his head and muttering “Cold, cold woman.”
“You have no idea,” she said and headed for the dance floor.
Parasol stood at the top of the stairs looking at the melee of limbs moving to the old school song and walked down the stairs to the beat to join the fray.
*Ahh, the Whispers – now this is music.* She smiled.
Two hours later, her dance jones slaked, exhausted and pleased beyond belief, Parasol headed up the stairs on her way out of Chevrines. At the top of the stairs, something caught her eye. A man was standing at a table overlooking the dance floor talking to a couple of women. His back was to her, but the figure he cut niggled at her memory. She slowed her exit, passing by the table to get closer look.
“When I see young lovelies like you all alone, it just breaks me heart,” Parasol heard his voice sing to the women with the unmistakable cadence of the islands. She could smell blood on him and feel the ringing of the emptiness the body withheld, like a bell in a tower.
Vampires are by nature and the expanse of time in front of them, cliquish. This vampire had to know the Idiot Brothers from Mrs. Prosper’s. If he knew them, perhaps he had an idea of the whereabouts of Mrs. Prosper’s Cadre D’Ames, an artifact that Parasol wouldn’t mind getting her hands on.
Parasol decided to investigate.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Sorrow woke early that morning. He slipped out of bed and ran a shower, trying his best to let Jade slumber on undisturbed. After a quick breakfast he headed out, passing on the stairs a slender young woman who seemed rather enamoured of body art. Sorrow smiled as he walked out of the building.
Sorrow hailed a cab; he was headed towards his apartment this morning. Its refurbishment had been completed while Jade and he had been searching for his cure. Sorrow was just making a final inspection before making the remaining payments.
Two hours later Sorrow was satisfied, everything had met or exceeded his expectations but it was ironic that after all the expense he had gone to it was unlikely he'd be spending much time here. Jade was adamant that she wished to remain living at Poplar Avenue, so in all probability Sorrow would be spending the majority of his time there and not in the expensively furnished apartment he now stood within.
Of course, he would be here occasionally. His occult library had been shipped over from England and though it wouldn't match a Watcher's for size and breadth, in the areas that interested Sorrow it was remarkably complete. There was also the small training room he had added to the apartment. It would double as a ritual space if it ever became necessary. So there would be occasions Sorrow would be here and maybe the extravagant kitchen wouldn't go to waste, despite the fact he couldn't cook.
Having inspected the apartment Sorrow spent the afternoon unpacking his books. By mid-afternoon Sorrow's study was filled with the scent of dust, old parchment and ancient leather. At last he came to his most priceless possession, 'The book of D'Neth'Quan'. Wrapped in the most potent wards Sorrow could devise, this collection of pages loosely bound had survived the trip intact and undisturbed. Sorrow set the book in a small wall safe more out of habit than any belief that it would prove an impediment to anyone who desired the secrets those hard-earned pages held. Sorrow shrugged. He often thought of destroying the book but in the end it was symbolic of so much, the sacrifices he had made and the powers he had gained that he never would.
When hunger finally got the better of him, Sorrow locked the apartment behind him and went in search of something to eat. Having completed that minor task Sorrow set out on a much more important one. He had every intention of resuming hunting and Jade understood him well enough to realise that despite all her fears for his safety Sorrow wouldn't stop, even for her, so she had given him her reluctant blessing after extracting a promise from him to take every care. So here Sorrow was walking the dirtiest, seediest parts of Alhambra. The back alleys, the streets full of boarded up buildings. The places filled with all the human detritus society tried so hard to ignore. It was here that the vampires existed, hiding in the darkness, feeding on the unfortunates that called it home and it was here that Sorrow would hunt the undead.
It would be different at night but Sorrow needed to get a feel for these places. Occasionally as he turned a corner he would recall a faint snatch of music, a remnant of that night in February when he had engaged his magic and let the city sing to him. Those memories aided him now and Sorrow walked the streets fitting the pieces of a puzzle together.
It was nearly half past six when Sorrow had had enough. Tired in mind and body he hailed another cab a headed back to Poplar Avenue. When he reached home, he settled onto the sofa and leafed through the business directory. Jade's day would have been more tiring than his and he doubted she would be in any mood to cook. Considering his complete lack of culinary skills Sorrow decided take out was the best idea Jade was due back about seven and he was just about to order when his cell phone rang.
Better Safe Than Sorry
Saturday, 13th August 2005 - Noon
Jade winced as she rubbed at the huge bruise on her hip bone. *Bloody fanatic hunters... Who'd have thought they'd follow us all the way back here?!* She was still a little shaken at what had happened the night before but had decided not to let it affect her plans for the day. *I'll be damned if I start hiding at home like some cowardly idiot!*
Frowning at her reflection, Jade gingerly dabbed some aloe vera gel onto the cuts at her shoulder before pulling the strap of her black cap-sleeved top back in place. She then yanked on a comfortable pair of snug, black cotten shorts and slipped her feet into her puma runners. Chucking all of her cosmetics and the tube of gel into her carry-all, she grabbed her keys and was just about to slip out of the apartment when she paused.
*Better to be safe than sorry.* Jade nodded as she came to a decision and went over to hall closet to rummage through her multitudes of jackets and coats. Her hand closed around the cool metal of her jewelled dagger and she drew it out, its elaborate hilt and sheath glittering in the bright sunlight.
Jade withdrew the blade, biting her lip as she recalled the last time she used it. Then, the silver had been coated in poison and covered in blood. How many had she killed on that day? Ten? Twenty? She'd blocked out so much of the whole incident. Bloodshed and mayhem, necessary as they had been for those circumstances, still did not rate highly on her list of preferred memories.
The attack Tris and her had suffered last night had proved though, that as much as she abhorred it, violence and trouble were inevitable. Jade grimaced as she thought about how helpless she'd been when the two hunters had sprung their assault. *That's not happening again!* She'd been slipshod in her assumption that all was safe once she and Tris had left England. That was not a mistaken she was going to repeat. Throwing the dagger into her bag, Jade left the house.
********************
As she walked past Tash's door, Jade made a mental note to drop in on her friend later that evening. She'd been back for a couple of days but hadn't really had a chance to catch up with anyone, which wasn't surprising, considering that she'd been totally jet-lagged the first day and attacked by vampire hunters the next! *I'd better give Kate a call too. Wonder how she is now that Luc...* Jade's heart ached as she thought about the tall, handsome man that Kate had loved more than life itself. She tried to imagine how she'd feel if Tris was dead and shuddered; the notion was just too painful to contemplate. Despite all the peril she and Sorrow had faced in the last five months, Jade had never let herself dwell on the possibility that either one of them would die and leave the other alone.
Heading down to the ground floor, Jade's breath caught in surprise as she realised how different everything looked. Tris had told her a bit about Victor buying the building and how he'd gone about arranging to have it rebuilt and renovated but it was only now, in the bright light of day, with the sounds of someone tapping away on a keyboard with a radio playing softly in background, that Jade noticed the full extent of the improvements made during her absence. Distracted as Jade was, she practically collided into the pretty young woman who'd come bounding through the open door of the apartment that was now the reception area.
"Ow! Oh, I'm sorry! That'll teach me not to run around like I'm on speed..." The woman stuck out a hand. "I'm Henna. You're Jade, aren't you? Apartment 208? Tash and Mr Tek mentioned you."
"Mr Tek?" It took a moment before Jade made the connection between the name and Victor. "Ah... Yes, I'm Jade. Nice to meet you Henna. I'm guessing you're our receptionist?"
"Started a week ago." Henna grinned. "I'm still trying to remember everyone's names. There are a couple of people that I haven't met. Like that dreamy guy who walked out just as I was coming in to work. Don't you just love men with green eyes? Mmmmmmmm..."
*Green eyes?!* Jade's eyebrow shot up and she bit back a laugh. *Well well, Tris has himself an admirer. That'll make for fun conversation at dinner tonight.* "Hmmm, as a matter of fact, I'm an avid fan of men with green eyes... It was great talking to you Henna, but I've got to get to work. I'll see you around!" With a friendly wave, Jade made her way out of the building, smiling to herself as she walked out of her apartment building and tilted her face towards the warmth of the sun. *All the vampire hunters and potential boyfriend snatchers in the world couldn't keep me away from XY today.*
Better Safe Than Sorry (Cont'd)
Saturday, 13th August, 2005 - 6:30pm
Stretching, Jade forced herself up from one of XY's new armchairs to continue working. *Can't afford to slack off that much if I want to keep to schedule... I'm going to be working late enough as it is!*
She crossed over to the counter to pick up the phone and punch in a series of numbers. "Hi love, it's me," Jade smiled as she heard Sorrow's deep voice say hello. "Yep, the line's been connected. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be working late, probably won't get home till past midnight."
"I'm not sure I want you staying at XY till that late darling. That neighbourhood isn't exactly the best place to be hanging around after dark." Sorrow sounded concerned. "Do you want me to come down and pick you up?"
"I thought you're suppose to be patrolling tonight? Don't worry Tris, I'll be fine." Jade cut him off before he could protest further. "Really... I'll be fine. Wing Chun training and all remember?" Her voice was light but Sorrow caught the slight catch in it as she said, "Anyway, I brought along my dagger, just in case I run into any trouble like we did last night."
"Well... Ok, then. If you're that sure," Sorrow replied resignedly. "But don't you even think about walking home. Call for a cab, ok? I'm not sure what time I'll be back from hunting, probably around four. I'll see you back home."
"Ok. I love you..."
"Love you too..."
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
12:10 AM. Sunday morning. August 14th.
On the midnight bus home, Sam found himself next to an old woman who shot filthy look after filthy look his way. He’d been training with Tash without the benefit of a post-session shower. The woman drew a gaunt finger to her nose, implying that Sam smelled. Like she could talk, the old “limburgery” crone. Sam moved to the front of the bus and sat next to Chas, the driver.
The bus pulled into the stop. He thanked Chas, as he had every night since learning the driver’s name, and he stepped down to the sidewalk. All he wanted was a big fluffy pillow and the azure glow of the bedside clock to comfort him until morning. The duffle bag slung over his shoulder, he started for home.
Two hundred hairs on the back of Sam’s neck prickled even before he heard the beasts or smelled the feral dinge of their thick fur. How quickly Tash had granted Sam a sense of alertness! He took to running as fast as he could.
It was the werewolves again. This time there were four. Sam didn’t have time to pull the stake from his duffle bag. They were behind him and closing fast. Except this time a bus wouldn’t be showing up to the rescue. This was bad. Sam raced down the middle of the street, praying that he would be able to find his house keys in time. He passed by Bob’s Bar, loud with music. He couldn’t run inside, couldn’t lead the wolves to a veritable buffet. He couldn’t do that to innocent people, though it would mean saving his hide.
Kimmie’s apartment building came into sight. And beyond that, something worse.
Oh lordy.
Someone was actually standing in the shadowy doorway of the XY shop, a dark-haired female, hardly visible in her black clothes, but her jumble of keys twinkled as she raised it to lock the door. Sam was leading the beasts right to her.
“Get out of the way, lady! Oh please hide!”
Jade's head snapped towards the directions of the frantic shouts. The sight of the tall man, his face shiny with sweat and goggling with terror, less than fifty feet away had her hand automatically reaching into her bag for the dagger she'd thought to bring along with her to the shop. When she saw what was pursuing him, however, her jaw dropped in shock.
Werewolves?! Damn, I should have known that the night wouldn't have ended without something like this happening!
The lead the male stranger had on the beasts was rapidly decreasing. He was still madly flapping his arms in a shooing motion as he ran and Jade knew that if she didn't do something immediately, they'd both get mauled and killed. Releasing her dagger from its sheath with a metallic ping, she slipped the curved blade out, took careful aim and flung it with all her might at the werewolf closest to Sam. An agonised yowl pierced the air, telling her that she'd found her mark.
The beast's cry had the man pausing in his escape and turning back to take a look. What the heck is he doing? Jade rushed forward and grabbed Sam's hand. "Run, you idiot!" she cried in an exasperated tone.
She dragged him up the street like he was a rag doll. His right hand grabbed for the duffle bag bouncing against his back. The girl let go of him, and he pulled at the zipper while falling slightly behind. He snatched Thumper from inside. The wolves were snapping at the soles of his shoes, and sheer horror propelled him forward at top speed. If he could get far enough ahead, he might be able to turn quickly and throw the stake, maybe do something to slow the closest werewolf down. But it didn’t seem heavy enough. And Tash hadn’t touched upon stake-throwing-wolf-impaling yet. Hadn’t even mentioned it, in fact. He was too frightened to look his newfound companion in the face. Clumsily he tried handing the weapon to her.
“Uhhm... ’scuse me,” he gasped for the words. “You look… like you can… use this… better than I... can.”
"What?!" Jade barely gave it a glance. All her attention was focused on finding a way to save their hides by shaking the remaining creatures on their tail. "That's not going to work!" she snapped, "Stakes only work on vampires, not rabid mongrels like those dogs we have snapping at our butts!"
It wasn't until Sam practically shoved the wooden stake in her face that she saw the beautiful silver etchings along its length. From the corner of her eye, Jade saw that the wolves were almost upon them. Going purely on instinct, she turned, grabbed the stake and then pushed Sam ahead of her. "Don't stop running! Get out of here!" He looked a little bewildered but Jade didn't wait to see if he followed her instructions; her focus was now on the werewolves alone.
Jade suddenly stopped running, catching the beasts off guard with her unexpected change in momentum. She spun around in a hard kick that knocked one of the animals right smack into its counterpart, causing both of them to land on the road in a big, clumsy, hairy heap. Jade winced in pain. The impact had jarred her sore hip and her movements were now slightly hampered, allowing the fourth werewolf to charge at her, snarling, spittum dripping from its yellowish fangs.
With a mighty backswipe, the beast knocked Jade to the side of the road, causing her to drop the stake she'd taken from Sam. It clattered uselessly onto the street.
Sam looked back; his feet slowed and he stopped, panting heavily. That crazy girl! He didn’t know she was going to turn and fight. He thought she’d throw the stake or something. Like... like she’d thrown her silver dagger. Like… in the movies. Maybe stakes couldn’t be thrown. Sam chastised himself, because this was real life. He should have known better.
Well he certainly couldn’t leave her alone! She was so small. They’d rip her apart. Sam started back toward the fracas and tripped headlong over two of the foul beasts as they wriggled madly underfoot. She had knocked them down! Sam rolled to a halt, flat on his stomach. He cranked his head up, thinking, Amazing.
But things were quickly turning bad for her. She was struggling to climb to the sidewalk. She looked hurt. The wolf - it was the small one from Wednesday night, the meanest of the pack - was advancing, its head lowered as if it might charge her. It had its sights set on retribution. Sam didn’t know what to do and the other two wolves were getting up.
Then he heard a rolling sound. The image of a roulette ball came to mind. But it was Thumper heading his way. The street must have been on an incline. The stake made its way into his hand... and once again into his heart. There was hope.
Jade was standing and massaging her hip when the wolf came up behind her, and it was about to strike when Sam, shouting, “Got you, jerk!” leapt upon its back. He sunk his weapon into the monster’s head. It gave an instant yelp. Its snout hit the pavement. Its tail fanned out, falling softly to the ground.
It remained still.
Sam stumbled back, hitting the cement, under the light of the street lamp. It surprised him when he found Thumper, instead of imbedded in the dog’s skull, resting comfortably in his hand. It seemed determined to stay there. Petrified, he squinted up at the dark-haired girl, standing behind a wall of darkness. He smiled askew. “Hi, I’m, Sam,” he said proudly.
Jade blinked. In the last five minutes, she'd killed one werewolf, swept a couple of others off their feet and almost been killed by a fourth (who'd eventually ended up as a two hundred pound fur rug three inches away from her feet). All to save this man who sat before her beaming like he'd just been crowned the King of England.
The growling started her out of her amazement. The two remaining wolves were evidently not going to back down till they'd torn them limb from limb. "We'll save the introductions for later, when I'm convinced that we're going to stay alive long enough for us to need to know each others' names. Ok?"
Ignoring the throbbing ache in her side, Jade faced the beasts and concentrated on the crystal charm bracelet she always wore around her wrist. The Red Phantom crystal glowed bright in the dark for a second before Jade made a rapid sweeping movement of her arm.
"Occido Extermino!"
A bolt of fire shot forth from the crystal, straight at their attackers. Through the howls and the acrid smell of burning fur and meat that permeated the air, Jade turned back to Sam. "Let's beat it while we still can. My knowledge of werewolves isn't extensive but I don't think fire holds them back all that long. Silver's the only thing that kills them."
Bewildered. Sam was bewildered by what he’d just seen. What the heck had she just done to them? Both - count them, one, two - BOTH of the werewolves were sprawled across the ground, smoking. Smoking! Like a quelled campfire. And the girl said she wasn’t convinced that they’d be able to stay alive? With that-that-that bracelet thingie of death at her disposal?
“Silver, huh?” he said. Sam’s arms dropped to his sides, and swaying slightly he shuffled over to the felled monsters. Trembling, he angled the stake over the one with motley fur and knelt beside it. He stabbed it in the chest four times. Next, he crouched next to the other one. *This is for making me wet my pants.* He stabbed it four times as well, then a fifth time for good measure. Then a sixth time, just because it made him feel better.
Mostly.
Sam’s face was white when he returned to the girl. He wanted to sound confident, but he was feeling a little sick. “How’s that?”
"Well... they won't be bothering us anymore, that's for sure." Jade wrinkled her nose at the muck and gore that stained Sam's clothes. "And now that I'm assured that we're going to live to see another day I'll introduce myself properly. My name's Jadyn, Jade to my friends. You said earlier that your name's Sam?"
When Sam nodded, she continued, "Seeing that we've just killed four crazed canines between us, I say that pretty much makes us friends... Although I'll be damned if I'm shaking your hand with all the stuff you've got covering it." She grinned weakly.
Jade glanced around. The road she and Sam were on was pretty quiet but with the happenings of the past two days, she didn't like hanging around on the streets so late at night. Plus, she was really curious about the stake this guy had. It was obvious that it was no ordinary piece of wood and she wondered how a fella like him had come to have it, and what looked suspiciously like vampire bite marks along the side of his throat.
"Look, you really need to get cleaned up and I really need to get off this hip of mine before I get permanently crippled. What say we head back to XY and sit down for a minute? I need to make a couple of calls and you can use the bathroom there." Jade hoped that she'd be able to get hold of Tris or Tash and tell them about what happened tonight. *Maybe Tash can take a peek at this guy's aura and let me know how much vamp there is in him too.* Jade didn't think Sam was a demon or a bloodsucker - he seemed too harmless - but the wounds at his throat worried her.
“Yes,” he said. “Rest. The XY. Good. Bathroom.”
Sam took a moment to collect himself. His heart was still beating as he gazed down to see a very kind face. But kind faces weren’t to be trusted, as a general rule, even when attached to benevolent, wolf-kicking warrior goddesses. She blinked at him with lovely, almond eyes. Which only brought back a thousand pictures of Bunny’s treachery. He’d met Bunny when she was a foreign exchange student in a circle of five other snobby gooks... er, Asians. Bunny had only married Sam, no doubt, to stay in the country. That much was clear to him. Took him long enough to get it through his thick skull, though. So life had come full circle again. Here, now: another Asian girl. This chick didn’t fool him one bit with her stylin’ clothes and small waist and slick ability to throw knives. She’d break his heart if given the chance, and so to her he gave the politest of nods, then leaned back, folded his large arms, Thumper in hand, and said, “Lead the way.” He tried to keep the hurt from his face. It wasn’t Jade’s fault. But he couldn’t let his guard down in the presence of yet another kind face.
As they walked back in the direction of XY, Jade puzzled over Sam's sudden change in attitude and expression and wondered if she'd said something wrong. He'd been friendly enough while fighting the werewolves but right after that, he seemed to clam up. Then again, maybe he was just uncomfortable with a stranger whom had the ability to conjure flames out of jewellery.
She shrugged and dug out her keys as XY came into sight. She paused briefly at the store's front and walked over to pull her dagger out of the heart of the first wolf she'd killed. Slipping it back into its sheath, she unlocked the door and gestured for Sam to follow her in.
The store was still littered with boxes from the day's work. "The bathroom's at the back; it's just this tiny closet next to the store room really... You can't shower but at least you'll get to wash most of that gunk off." Jade turned and smiled tentatively at Sam. "I'm just going to call a couple of friends and tell them what happened tonight, ok?"
Sam nodded. He went to store Thumper in his duffle bag, then realized he’d lost the bag somewhere along the way. And he almost that instant left the store to retrieve it, but then again, knowing his luck, he’d end up being hunted by Godzilla. Bad idea. He offered Jade a nod of thanks, and while he blazed a path around the boxes he wondered if Godzilla existed for real.
Naw. Couldn’t be possible.
Once in the bathroom, he turned on the water, glanced at his ragged face in the mirror, and muttered, “Could it?”
He rinsed the black and brown strands of dog hair off his hands and neck, then began to lather up. What an awful night. He really needed to find a new neighborhood to live in. And who was this Jade? What would Bob Wedge say about her? How about Hesch?
Sam rinsed the soap off, thinking, *For that matter, what would Jade say about Hesch and Bob? It’s not like there’s good guys or bad guys in this crazy place. Just some people are less scary than others.* How would he rate Jade, less or more scary? Sam beamed at his reflection in the medicine cabinet. Jade was something else.
He lifted the toilet seat. Normally, he wouldn’t think of peeing with the door ajar. But L.A. was teaching him to give up his old self one shred of decency at a time. The stream of urine hit the toilet bowl, and he listened closely, trying to catch Jade’s conversation. It was difficult to stay quiet in here. He was trying not to laugh. But everything seemed funny all of a sudden. He was alive! Wasn’t that wonderful?
L.A. was teaching him to have a sense of humor.
Back At XY
Sunday, 14 August 2005 - About 1am
Jade listened to the incessant ringing tone for another second before hanging up, somewhat frustrated because she'd not been able to contact either Sorrow or Tash. *Now what do I do?* She drummed her fingers on the new counter as she pondered about the best course of action to take with this Sam chap.
*Was that a chuckle I'd heard back there?* Jade frowned speculatively in the direction of the toilet. *What is it with that guy?* She began to question the wisdom of bringing him back to the store with her. He seemed a little weird to her. Harmless, but missing a couple of screws in the head. *Ah well, I can handle myself well enough. And he did save my life. Let's just see how things go.*
Getting up, Jade went to the fridge and got out two bottles of juice. She twisted the cap off one of them, settled herself down gingerly on one of her new armchairs and lit a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, she smiled at Sam as he came out of the bathroom. "I left an OJ on the top of the fridge for you, figured we could both use a drink... Just wish I had something stronger. Take a seat?"
Sam shook his head. "I’m pretty tired. If I sit down I’ll go to sleep."
The smoke of her cigarette slipped into his nostrils, and he flinched. He'd learned to tolerate smokers, having spent so much time in Bob's bar when he first came to L.A., but for some reason it smelled especially bad right now. It would be rude, though, to say anything. "Thanks for the juice."
He drank it down. He fiddled with the neck of the bottle between his finger and thumb, vacillating. As was becoming the norm, he didn't quite know what he was supposed to say or do next. Human interaction scared him, perhaps more than even vengeance demon summoning, though the two were highly related. Which brought him back to why he feared human contact in the first place: heedless cruelty. Sam was beginning to work himself up. "Could you maybe point me to the trash?" he asked.
"Just leave it for the moment. I'll clear it later." Jade thought madly about what to say or do to put Sam at ease. Stubbing out her cigarette, she said, "I know this sounds a little cheesy... But thanks for what you did back there. You know," she gestured absently, "Stabbing that werewolf in the head, saving my life and all."
Sam couldn't help but grin. He had done something right, hadn't he? "Well, you were pretty neat, too, with that... um... just what in the heck is that thing?" He pointed at the bracelet that she'd used to overpower the last two werewolves. His finger was shaking. Guiltily, he put his hands in his pants pockets.
"This?" Jade jangled the silver chain around her wrist. "Well, mostly, it's just a pretty piece of jewellery. There are instances, tonight for example, that it's become a lifeline of sorts." She saw the doubtful look Sam gave her and laughed lightly. "Don't worry, it's not gonna burst into flames now or any time soon. My magical capabilities and the crystals on my bracelet don't allow me to do that spell very often..." Jade got up and took the empty bottles and her cigarette butt to a nearby bin and tossed everything in. The twinge in her hip had her limping slightly. "And before you can ask, no, I'm not a witch... Owning a magic shop like XY, however, makes me somewhat of an amateur... errrm... 'spell caster' I guess, for lack of a better word." She grinned at Sam before asking casually. "That stake of yours looks really cool... Where'd you get it?”
Sam had set Thumper on the bathroom sink. Except... here it was... in the deep pocket of his corduroy pants, teasing his fingers. Its handle was showing by his wrist. He withdrew his hands, and it tagged along.
"This? This is just Thumper. A friend of mine gave it to me." His voice dropped. "I guess you can call Hesch a friend." He handed it to Jade. "Albert said it's perfect for... well, if you'll excuse my language... kicking ass."
*Thumper? Hesch? Albert?* Jade tossed the wood from hand to hand, admiring it as she wondered about the slew of names pouring forth. *He actually named his stake. Why do I find that funny and endearing?* Chuckling, she passed Thumper back to Sam. "Well, you sure did that tonight. You kicked werewolf ass all the way to the moon and back. No pun intended." There was a pause, then she asked casually, "Who's Albert Hesch?"
"Oh heck. He's..." A freak? A cab driver? A freaky cab driver? An insane vampire hit-and-runner? "Um, well, he's friends with Bob Wedge. You might know him. You know: Bob’s Bar?"
Jade's nose wrinkled with distaste. Bob had never been one of her favourite people and his establishment was one she stayed clear of as much as possible. Despite being what she was, Jade had an aversion to associating with members of the dark and had on more than one occasion taken a number of them out when threatened.
*How in the world did a guy like Sam get mixed up with Bob and friends? It's not likely that they run in the same social circle... Although that might go a little towards explaining the bites on his neck.*
Jade reached past Sam and pulled out a small first aid kit from one of the cartons on the floor. Taking out a bottle of disinfectant, a tube of Savlon and some plasters, she said, "Here, sit down. You're bleeding. Let me clean that and put a bandage over it before the wounds get infected." Jade smacked at Sam's hands as they reached up to fiddle with the scabs at his neck. "Don't touch them with your fingers. Let me do it..."
Carefully putting on some clean plastic gloves, she dabbed the methylated spirit and antiseptic cream onto his neck, blowing lightly to ease the sting. "What happened here, Sam? How did you get these marks?"
A chill ran down his back as her nails brushed his skin, and her sultry breath was not helping the matter. The hairs on his neck stood. It was precisely the same feeling he'd gotten when the werewolves were stalking him. Except this time he could see his opponent, and she felt good to him.
So much like Bunny.
Sam ducked under her arms and leapt to an erect posture, banging into a stack of cardboard boxes. He eyed the chair she'd offered him earlier, then Jade herself. She had turned to face him, still holding a tube of cream and a puzzled expression.
"No, that's fine, it's okay, don’t bother with that stuff," Sam said. "Just shaving cuts." Of course, Tash had told him differently. "Happens all the time. I'm clumsy. I think I’ll sit now."
He took a seat in the comfortable chair and folded his hands in his lap, most uncomfortably. "So, this is your store, then?"
"Yes. It's a little... unfinished at the moment." Jade knew that Sam wasn't telling her the truth and since she knew that he was no stranger to the world of the occult and monsters that inhabited it, she decided to cut straight to the chase and ask him about it. "Are you sure it's just accidents with your razor that gave you those wounds Sam? They look awfully like vampire bites to me..."
When he jerked away from her, Jade knew she'd hit the nail on the head. "Don't lie to me Sam. I'm not going to hurt you. Not yet anyway. But the creatures that gave you those," she nodded at his throat, "are going to continue nibbling on you, slowly killing you, till you become as evil as they are. You do know that, don't you?"
To take the edge of her harsh words, Jade reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "I didn't save your butt from a pack of wolves only to let you get eaten by vampires, ok?"
Sam's arms flopped down, lifelessly. Everyone he'd met seemed to know more than he did. About everything. Including himself. Was he so easy to read?
"You should meet my boss's girlfriend," he said. "Tash talks just like you."
"Tash?" Jade's surprise mingled with the urge to reach over and smooth Sam's hair. He looked like a scared, forlorn little boy. She figured that he was one of those poor people being used as night chow for the bloodsuckers without their knowledge or their consent. With her shop so near Bob's Bar, Jade had heard and seen numerous similar cases. Mostly, she ignored them - you couldn't save every victim that straggled past you in L.A. but this young man struck a chord in her. He seemed so lost. Her tone softened and she touched his hand. "Does your boss's name happen to be Victor, by any chance?"
"Yes!"
Small world. Small town. Sam explained to Jade how he'd come to work for Victor, how he'd met Tash, and by the end of those stories, he was babbling, giving far too much information. He commented that he'd been on his way home from a training session with Tash when the werewolves caught his scent. "I was just trying to get home to my girlfriend. We live in an apartment building down the street."
"Your girlfriend?" Jade raised an eyebrow. She reckoned there was a good possibility that this faceless female was involved in Sam being used the way he was. "Does she have any idea what's been happening to you?" Her eyes, travelling down his flushed face and fixed at his neck, were sharp and a little angry.
Sam wanted to say yes. He tried to say yes. But it would have been just as much of a lie as his telling her that Kimmie was his girlfriend. "No. I guess she doesn't. I just found out tonight. Thanks to Tash. I didn't fully believe it, really. Then you said what she said about my neck." He felt the need to correct himself, because Jade seemed trustworthy. He risked that she wouldn't judge him. "To tell you the truth, I haven't seen Kimmie in months. I think. Well, I'm not really sure..."
*Curiouser and curiouser.* Jade's face, however, showed none of her suspicions as she stood and pulled Sam to his feet. "Look Sam, a lot of what you're saying is flying over my head... I've just put in a twelve hour day and I'm sore and aching, not only from our fight with the rabid dogs tonight, but from being attacked by two crazed men last night." Jade was very careful not to mention that the men had been hunters; she didn't want to risk scaring Sam off by letting out that she was half-vampire so soon. *He's suffered enough at their hands, the poor dear.*
"Why don't you come back with me to Poplar? You can stay in the guest bedroom in my apartment for tonight, then we'll try and get Victor to see if he can get you some sleeping quarters within the building. It'll save you your travel time, not to mention prevent something like this from happening again."
Jade realised that Sam was somewhat uncomfortable with human contact so she refrained from touching him again. "We could head over to your girlfriend's place, pick up whatever stuff you have and leave her a note. So that if she ever comes back, she'll know where to find you?"
*And we'll know exactly how to deal with her, if she shows up and turns out to be the bloodsucking fiend that I think she is.* Jade's jaw clenched but she forced herself to give Sam a friendly smile.
Sam was feeling vulnerable. He was so tired that he couldn't argue. And something told him that Jade knew best. Even if Jade was nothing more than trouble in a kind package, which he didn't really believe at this point, living on Poplar Avenue wasn't a bad idea. Tash would protect him if he got himself into another "pickle", as Dad might have put it. But what would Dad say about him living next to Negroids and Mongoloids?
Sam matched her jaw-clenched smile and said, "I accept. Thanks Jade."
To hell with Dad.
They left XY together silently. Sam rubbed his chest, feeling the cross Tash had given him under the shirt.
On the plus side, they came across his lost duffle bag in the street. Sam placed Thumper inside, zipped it up, and through the nylon he patted it. He thought, "We're going home, pal. I hope you like my new friends."
Adventures in Kickboxing
******Sunday, August 14th 2005 – 9:44am******
Kate sat on the grass, her knees tucked under her body as she watched Jess go through a series of kickboxing moves. Jess had come over to Kate’s house early that morning to begin training, and since it was another warm Los Angeles day they’d decided to make use of the extensive garden at the back of Kate’s house. They’d spent the first twenty minutes doing warming up exercises before starting to practise a few moves.
Galen had stood out on the porch and watched the two women as they trained at the far end of the garden. He felt sorry for the old tree trunk which seemed to be taking a real good beating as Kate and this girl Jessica used it to practise their kicks. He’d had to leave – after the previous night’s adventures he needed to go back to his apartment and get a few things – then he had other affairs to attend to.
Kate sat and watched as Jess went through the routine again. She started in a defence position, with her fists tucked under her chin. Bouncing slightly on her knees she paused a moment before transferring her weight over on to her lead foot, rolling on to the ball of her foot while also rotating her torso and raising her rear leg forward in one swift controlled movement. She extended her knee forward to while also turning on her lead foot to meet the target with a hard ‘thud’.
Jess landed and turned to face Kate who was sat a little distance away watching. “You want to try?”
Kate allowed Jess to pull her up to her feet, brushing the grass from her shorts. Jess stood behind Kate while she assumed the defence position.
“Now don’t lock your knees you have to keep them soft, yeah like that, and don’t arch your back, now keep you abdominal muscles tight… yeah okay…” Jess kept a close eye while Kate slowly went through the moves and delivered the kick. “That’s good, but you need to remember to keep your kicks low, or you’ll throw off your balance…”
“Okay, like this?” Kate did the same move again only making adjustments as Jess had instructed.
Jess nodded enthusiastically and together they went through a few more moves, punches and kicks as well as various blocks. When Kate looked at her watch again she was surprised to find almost two hours had passed.
Jess picked up a towel and dried her forehead of sweat then took a sip of water from the bottle that stood on the floor by her foot. “Will’s arriving in LA tonight. The Council have found a Slayer, well a Slayer-In-Waiting, for me at last and he’s bringing her over.”
Kate collapsed on the floor next to Jess and wiped the perspiration from her face. “Wow, that’s great news. Good luck coping with a teenage girl, I remember what I was like at that age – and I didn’t have the pressures of a sacred birthright. Still, she couldn’t ask for a better Watcher than you, I’d really like to meet her once she’s settled in.”
Jess smirked, “She’s going to be a tough one, even worse than me.” She grinned. “Ellie hated her last Watcher, but I suppose the Council couldn’t have made a worse choice; a fourteen year old with an attitude problem and one of the older male Watchers.”
“Still it won’t be easy.” Kate rose to her feet and led the way back into the house. “It’s tough enough growing up, without being forced into a rigid training programme and being told what you can and can’t do. You’re gonna have your hands full.”
Jess grinned as they headed inside. “Tell me about it!”
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Sunday, 14th August 2005 - just after midnight
Tash was tired. Not only had she trained for three hours herself this afternoon but she'd also taken Sam through some basic exercises for another two hours this evening. Still, it had been productive, teaching Sam about balance and awareness of his own body. By the end of the session he was sweating purely from exertion rather than nerves. She thought he'd be ready to train with an actual weapon by his third lesson at this rate.
Despite her fatigue, Tash was determined to go out hunting again tonight. She strapped on her knives and performed her final weapons checks, her fingers moving deftly.
Victor stepped up behind her and traced his fingers over the scrapes and bruises, "Don't you even take time to heal? You aren't the Slayer, you know."
Tash hugged him tightly, "I know. But if I don't go out..." There was no need to finish that sentence. They'd been through this. Every vampire she killed was one less terrorising the neighbourhood. One less killer.
Victor had heard the arguments. But he still wasn't convinced. He'd feel safer if she had backup, but he couldn't spend all his time hunting (could he?).
She kissed him deeply. "Just keep a warm spot for me when I get back, OK?" she winked.
After Jade's phone call Sorrow decided to take a nap. He woke around 11:30pm, took a quick shower to chase the cobwebs away, got dressed then checked over his weapons. Sorrow hadn't hunted since February; first the Cloch Cosan then trying to find a cure had left him little time to practise his skills and though he wouldn't let Jade know, he was nervous.
Sorrow's hands checked his weapons again while his mind drifted back to the first time he had gone out hunting. *Enough! You've done this hundreds of times, get on with it!*
He slipped half a dozen vials of holy water into his belt, checked the binding on his back up stake then turned to where Hizashi lay. Sorrow closed his eyes for a moment then picked up his blade and silently slid it into its back sheath. When he stepped to the door of Jade's apartment all trace of his nerves had disappeared.
Tash closed the door to her apartment behind her softly, leaving Victor alone inside. She felt bad about it. She really did. But she had to go hunting. She leaned against the doorframe for a minute, collecting her thoughts. The sound of a door opening made her snap her eyes open. She looked down the hallway, following the noise. The door was Jade's.
Sorrow stepped out into the hallway under Tash's scrutiny. For a moment he let the silence build while his eyes drifted across her form, cataloguing a stake here, a vial there, then as his eyes met hers he spoke.
"A night on the town?"
As Sorrow's eyes flicked from her left armpit to her back, to her forearms, her waist and then her thighs, Tash likewise checked the weapons Sorrow was carrying. Hizashi, of course was most evident on its back sheath. But, like her, he was equipped with a multitude of knives, stakes and bottles of holy water. She grinned, "Looks like we're going to the same club."
"Would you care for an escort?" Sorrow asked, "I hear the clientele can get quite feisty."
There was something about Sorrow; a slight anxiety that Tash wasn't used to seeing in him when he contemplated combat. Mind you, the last few times he'd been in combat he was mostly vampire... and Tash didn't want to dwell on those images. She walked the few feet down the hallway that separated them and slipped her arm under his.
"Certainly, kind sir. The streets can be dangerous for a frail creature such as myself," she grinned.
Sorrow laughed at her response and moved off down the hallway. "Where would m'lady like to go? I'm afraid I'm quite out of touch with the latest scene."
"Actually, there's been quite a bit of activity over the past couple of months. Lots of new vamps. But Victor and I found out last night that our good, dear friend Black Jem has been on a recruitment drive. She's been ranging far and wide, and stepping on other vamps' turfs." Her eyes sparkled at the memory, "But we got her boyfriend last night. That might slow her down."
She drew her arm clear of Sorrow's, freeing all her limbs. "I didn't bring my bike out tonight. I've been ranging away from home a bit lately, so I thought tonight I'd concentrate around this area."
Sorrow frowned. With the city closed to the society for the last six months and no slayer around either, it sounded like the local vamps had had a good time. No doubt the only reason the local vamp population wasn't even higher was the work of Tash and any other independent hunters around.
"So, hunting grounds or lairs?" Sorrow preferred staking out vampire hunting grounds but he'd let Tash take the lead tonight.
"Now that we know what Jem's up to, I'd like to thin the ranks a little there, if we can," Tash replied. "Most of her force will be young vamps, only a month or two old. But she's been at this a while, so I have no idea how many she might have. But being young, they'll need to feed often. There'll be too many at her crypt - so I say let's find out where they're feeding."
"Sounds good to me."
Tash thought for a moment. "Hmm, the only problem is, one of the vamps last night got away. And her boyfriend recognised me. So she probably knows that I know by now..." Tash shrugged. "Does it matter? Me hunter, them big, bad vampires. Me go kill," she grinned.
The pavement had long since released the afternoon's stored heat and the air was decidedly chilly as Sorrow and Tash walked towards the seedier parts of Alhambra. They were headed towards 'The Purple Haze', a spectacularly unpleasant place where any number of vampires were likely to frequent. The entrance to the Haze was halfway down a garbage-strewn alley and the doorman was anything but inconspicuous.
Sorrow looked at Tash. "Ok, that guy's a vampire or I'll swallow Hizashi."
For a moment Tash was tempted to lie, just to see if Sorrow really would eat his sword. "Oh, yeah," she said, "He's got enough black to paint a night scene. You know, I somehow don't think he'll let us in with all this gear. We may have to be persuasive." She glanced sideways at Sorrow, "Do you want to do the honours?"
Sorrow glanced at the shadow-cloaked alley. Hizashi was out of the question; his blade's soft glow would warn the vampire long before Sorrow got close enough to actually kill him. He glanced at Tash's crossbow. It was unlikely that she could hit the heart with the vamp side on to them but the music should cover the sound of it being fired. "I'll attract his attention and when he turns you shoot him."
Sorrow waited till Tash was ready then walked boldly down the alley.
Tash melded with the shadows, slid her crossbow from her back and readied it, waiting for a clean shot. She watched as Sorrow approached the doorvamp.
As Sorrow reached the halfway mark to the vampire he called out, "Hey you!"
Instinctively the vampire turned towards Sorrow's voice. Sorrow felt the bolt pass him and saw the flash of surprise fill the vampire's features just before it exploded into a cloud of dust. The bolt clattered to the ground where Sorrow retrieved it. As Tash ghosted down the alley Sorrow returned the bolt.
"Score one for the good guys." There was little trace of humour in Sorrow's voice.
Tucking the bolt away, Tash nodded. "One down, several thousand to go. But let's just start with what we have in here, shall we?"
She took the lead, slipping through the door. It led to a small antechamber. A heavy curtain was draped over the far wall, presumably leading into the bar. Loud music shook the dust motes in the air and made speech next to impossible. She gestured for Sorrow to enter and parted the curtain, peering into the gloomy interior.
A raised dais at one end housed the live band, which was playing some sort of metal-funk combo. Through the smoke-filled haze Tash could see a long bar with tables dotted about nearby. A small area had been left clear as a dance floor and bodies filled the space, contorting in time to the music. Tash and Sorrow slipped to one side, finding a secluded corner from which to observe the denizens.
The patrons were a pretty mixed bunch; no demons, mainly human but there was a scattering of vampires that you didn't need to be psychic to spot. The dress code seemed to be black with a splash of purple, deep red or silver. The music was so loud that anyone human spending more than couple of nights here risked permanent damage but it was doubtful that anyone human came here more than a couple of times.
Sorrow watched a vampiress gather a young man into her arms, She shouted into his ear then looked towards a door at the back of the bar. The guy's face was pathetically eager as he followed her, puppylike, towards the door. Sorrow shared a look with Tash. It looked like the back room was where they needed to be but by the looks of this place most of the humans would probably fight to defend the undead here.
Tash put her hand to Sorrow's mouth, tapping his teeth lightly then pointed at her own neck. She figured with his still-murky aura it might be enough to confuse the senses of the vampires in this room into thinking he was one of them. Sorrow nodded, and swooped his head down to nuzzle Tash's neck. Tash giggled girlishly and let Sorrow steer her towards the back room. Most people they passed didn't so much as spare them a glance.
They reached the door without incident despite their various accoutrements. As they closed the door behind them they found themselves in a dimly lit corridor with another door at the far end. The music was a dull throb running through their bodies.
Sorrow let Tash go and waited for the ringing in his ears to subside. "I counted six out there. Did I miss any?"
"It depends if you count the one that came in here as the sixth. There're five still back there. Some of the humans are pretty well tainted, though, and there's more than a few vampire wannabes." Tash shuddered. She couldn't imagine why anyone would want to become a vampire. She'd decided long ago people like that must have read too much Anne Rice.
She padded down the short hallway and relaxed her mental shields a little. Feelings of hunger and lust washed over her from behind that closed door, from more than one source. She held up a hand and raised one finger, then two, then paused before raising a third. Beyond that, she couldn't tell. There may be more, but she thought three was it. The cold evil mingled with the hot lust made her shiver.
*Six then, though the humans might not be in much shape to do anything.* Sorrow drew his blade, pulled out a vial of holy water and looked at Tash. The music in the bar would cover their attack - all they had to do was make sure no one got past them.
Sorrow pushed the door inward to be greeted by a variety of soft sighs and moans. None of the occupants noticed Tash and Sorrow by the door.
Tash stayed snuggled next to Sorrow's side as they entered, but kept her hands free - the one behind his back carried a stake. Three couples were strewn about the room. The vampiress they had followed had already fastened herself to the young boy. His eyes had rolled up in his head, a look of pure ecstasy on his features. The other two vamps were male, one with a young woman and the other had found himself a tasty young man to feed from. As they fed, the vampires let their hands roam over their victims' bodies. All seemed oblivious to the presence of Tash and Sorrow.
One of the couples was separated from the other two, so Tash signalled to Sorrow to take care of the pair nearest the door while she moved both her hands behind her own back and drifted towards the one at the rear of the room.
He didn't even look up from the throat of the woman he was draining. They were sprawled on a couch and his hand was up the woman's skirt, which Tash was thankful for - it would slow him down a little. She drew level with them and pushed the woman's torso to one side, exposing the vampire's bare chest. The woman barely murmured, but the vampire looked up at Tash with anger flashing in his eyes just as she slammed her stake home. The woman groaned a little as she flopped onto the couch, barely conscious. Tash glanced over her shoulder to see how Sorrow was doing.
Sorrow had glided to the two guys while measuring the distance to the vampiress and her young victim. He uncapped the vial of holy water and checked his positioning again. As Tash disturbed the other vampire Sorrow thrust the tip of Hizashi deep into the chest of the vampire he faced as he splashed the holy water over the back of the vampiress. The vampire exploded into dust as Hizashi claimed another victim.
The vampiress reared back in agony as the blessed water burned into her flesh. Sorrow's blade had been freed by the demise of the other vampire and before the vampiress could recover he pirouetted neatly. Hizashi slid through her throat and as her head separated from her body a third cloud of dust slowly sifted to the ground. The boy's throat, torn by the vampiress' fangs, was bleeding profusely and as he realised his 'lover' was no longer drawing his blood his screams filled the room.
Tash left the side of the woman. At this point there was little Tash could do for her anyway; either the vampire had drawn too much blood or he hadn't. But the boy had to be quieted. By the time Tash reached him, Sorrow had clamped a hand over the boy's mouth, but he was still struggling, his eyes wide and fearful.
Tash quickly checked on the young man that had submitted to the other male vampire. He was dazed, but not as much as the woman, and was starting to show an interest in his surroundings. She moved to his side, hushing his questions as she sat next to him. His chest bore a dozen or more deep scores made from long fingernails and his clothing was in complete disarray.
Tash stroked his hair and whispered softly, "You've been having a dream. A bad dream."
Somehow she just knew that this one hadn't known what he was getting himself into. He'd thought he was just here for sex. *Well, you got more than you bargained for, tonight.*
He'd lost a lot of blood. He would live, but he was very weak. Tash encouraged him to lie down on the couch and watched as his eyelids fluttered closed. She looked up at Sorrow, still holding the young boy. His struggles had grown feeble, but his eyes were still terrified.
The vampiress had barely begun on the boy but the wound was bleeding freely. He needed medical attention soon. Sorrow whispered in Latin over and over again and slowly the boy calmed down. As the young man's struggles became fainter Sorrow managed to change his grip, putting pressure on the wound, but he knew it would only delay the inevitable. The boy sank into sleep, induced either by shock or Sorrow's magic, Tash wasn't sure.
Sorrow fixed his eyes on Tash. "He needs treatment soon." Ordinarily Sorrow wouldn't have cared but Tash being here made things somewhat different.
Tash checked the boy's pulse. "You're right - he's pretty weak." She nodded towards the other two humans. "They're not in good shape either. Especially the woman. But there's a bunch of others out there. I'd like to clear them if we can." She felt the thready pulse under her fingers again. "Half an hour?" she asked.
"Fine, but how do we get the ones out there in here in 30 minutes?" Even as Sorrow spoke the door opened.
Tash quickly dragged Sorrow onto the couch with her and made soft moaning noises. Two people entered the room, the sound of a woman's giggle carrying to where Tash lay with Sorrow. She peered around Sorrow's shoulder and spotted the couple - a woman and her male companion. He bore the distinctive black aura of the undead bloodsucker.
As the pair entered the room, the vampire looked around, a frown creasing his forehead. "What the...?" he started.
Sorrow twisted around as Tash slid from under him, both throwing vials of holy water at the same instant. "Control her," Tash hissed at Sorrow as she leapt towards the vampire, tendrils of smoke rising from his body. Sorrow's vial had collected him in face and as he hunched over, clawing at his eyes and yelling, "Fuck!!" Tash shoved a stake through his heart.
She looked up through the cloud of dissipating dust and grinned at Sorrow, "This is almost too easy," she said.
Sorrow grabbed the woman and bundled her to the floor, covering her mouth. He glanced towards the open doorway. As he looked down the short corridor he heard the cacophony that passed for music here and his eyes met those of another vampire at the far end.
"Fuck!!!"
The vampire backed out of the corridor and Sorrow glared at Tash. "You had to say that didn't you?"
Tash looked down at Sorrow, the woman struggling frantically beneath him. There were still four vampires out there that she knew of. They could do four between them, but it wouldn't be so easy now they were forewarned.
"Hey, look on the bright side," she said, "At least we'll be well within our time limit now."
They had scant minutes at best to prepare, and Tash fretted about wasting precious time, but the woman in Sorrow's grip had to be controlled. She finished the job on a torn strip of cloth on one of the sofas, and collected the young man's discarded shirt. She ripped the shirt and stuffed part of it in the woman's mouth, freeing up one of Sorrow's hands. Together they quickly bound the woman's arms with the strip of couch material and bundled her off to the side. They stood, readying weapons, one on either side of the door.
Sorrow had sheathed his sword and taken out a stake. He had no doubt the vamps would try to hide behind the panicked humans and even he wasn't about to start laying about with a couple of feet of razor sharp steel around innocents.
No one had opened the far door while Tash and Sorrow had prepared themselves and the possibility of an ambush weighed on Sorrow's mind. When Tash was ready they shared a look and walked slowly down the corridor. When they reached the far door Tash stood back with her crossbow ready while Sorrow pulled the door towards them, clearing Tash's line of sight.
The thumping music was so loud Tash could barely think. But as Sorrow opened the door, she scanned the room, crossbow ready to fire. Bodies still pressed against each other on the dance floor, and people were scattered throughout the room. Her eyes flicked over the coloured auras, looking for the black. There. In a group. All four of them.
She turned to Sorrow, "They're pissing off," she shouted, trying to make herself heard over the band.
Sorrow followed Tash's gaze and spotted the vampires making a run for it through a door concealed by the club's decor. Quickly hiding his stake he shouted to Tash, "Let's go," and darted through the press of bodies.
Tash took only moments to sling the crossbow across her back before following Sorrow across the dance floor. They reached the doorway almost simultaneously but the alley was empty. Tash and Sorrow looked at each other in the gloom.
"Damn!"
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Sunday, 14th August 2005 – 2am
Tash stood in the alleyway with Sorrow, thankful that at least there was no pounding music out here. But there was also no sign of the four vampires they'd followed out of "The Purple Haze". Adrenaline pumped through her, but she tried to calm her thoughts enough to send out mental tendrils. The feeling of evil was faint. They must have come out at a run. But it was there. She pointed down the alley. "That way, I think," she said to Sorrow.
As the pair jogged carefully along the garbage-strewn street, Tash pulled out her mobile and dialled 911. "Ambulance, please," she said when asked what service she wanted. After a short pause Sorrow heard her say, "I think there's been a fight at 'The Purple Haze' in Alhambra. A couple of people seem to be hurt badly - lost a lot of blood. No, just send an ambulance." She rang off quickly, not willing to give her name.
With the music a slowly fading memory Sorrow gave his senses full rein. Though the garbage covered the vampires’ scent and Sorrow was more likely to hear the buzz of the city than the vampires’ retreating footsteps he had no desire to rely totally on Tash's abilities to track them.
As Tash continued to guide them along the trail Sorrow suddenly smirked, "You know, right now I can hear your heartbeat."
Tash was momentarily startled, and affronted. *How dare he?* Then she wondered why her first reaction was so defensive. She could feel her own heart and knew it was racing far too fast for the mild exertion they were doing. So she couldn't blame it on that. Sorrow seemed amused, so she covered her own consternation with a false smile and made a joke, "Well, I'm not unfit. So it must be your proximity." The second the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. What if he got the wrong idea?
Sorrow smiled a little more at Tash's quip, "Careful, Jade will have your eyes out if she catches you looking at her man. The beat is a little fast though; you're ok, right?" Sorrow hadn't noticed the speed previously. With his hearing as amplified as it was he'd have heard Tash's heart even if she'd been at rest. Sorrow's amusement turned to concern. He was no doctor but if Tash's heart was beating this fast while jogging maybe there was a problem.
"I'm perfectly fine, really. There's nothing wrong with my heart, believe me," Tash's voice was a fraction sharper than she'd intended.
She really didn't like being reminded how she reacted physiologically to hunting these days. She used to be so calm. Distanced. She wasn't sure which was worse, too much calm or too little.
She turned her full concentration onto the feeling of evil she was following. She didn't want to miss their quarry by getting distracted. As she mentally sniffed the trail, it occurred to her that the sense of cold malevolence had grown considerably stronger. She reached out and grabbed Sorrow's arm, pulling him to a stop. The sound of harsh laughter carried to their ears. Tash pointed to a side alley that opened not far from where they stood.
Sorrow focused his attention on the matter at hand. After a moment’s concentration he could discern at least three voices. He used the faintest trickle of power and the dissonant sound of vampires echoed from the alley mouth. Sorrow looked around; on either side of the alley were run-down apartment blocks. He looked up at the buildings and then back to the side street they had passed a little earlier. "There are three in the alley. I can't hear the other one. So do we charge down the alley, up and over or do we try for a pincer?"
Tash felt for a fourth signal, but detected nothing but the group in the alley. She glanced sidelong at Sorrow. "If we don't know where the last one is, splitting up could be risky. I say we just try to take these three. I'm sure between us we can manage them without much fuss." She readied her crossbow. "With any luck, we'll be down to two before they even know what's hit them," she grinned.
As Sorrow drew Hizashi Tash saw the detachment that once was hers wipe his answering smile from his eyes. Sorrow turned and loped towards the alley. Tash reached the entrance moments behind Sorrow and as he continued to move down the lane she put the crossbow to her shoulder, took aim at one of the vampires and fired.
His attention fixed upon his prey, Sorrow noticed only that Tash had removed one of his targets. Sorrow's first cut took one vampire’s arm off at the elbow. His second cut ripped through the air and drove the other vampire back. Before either of his opponents could recover Sorrow thrust Hizashi through the heart of the second vampire.
Tash loosed her bolt and didn't even wait to see if it hit before racing after Sorrow. She saw the vamp she'd shot explode in a cloud of dust. Hizashi glimmered in the moonlight as Sorrow swept the sword through another vampire's heart. The third had reeled against the wall, staring dumbfounded at its dismembered arm. Tash smiled in elation. Soon they'd have another three vampires to their credit. She'd forgotten how efficient hunting could be when you were partnered with somebody. Until Victor had come out with her last night, she'd been hunting alone since Matthias first disappeared back in 2003.
She had almost reached Sorrow when she sensed some new menace approaching rapidly from the far end of the alley. Sorrow had advanced on the remaining vampire, preparing to despatch it, when three more shapes appeared from the gloom.
"Sorrow!" she yelled in warning. Too late.
The lead vampire grabbed Sorrow's hair, pulling his head back sharply. Fingernails like talons dug into his neck as the bloodsucker bared its fangs, ready to sink them into Sorrow's throat. Tash pulled a stake free as she leapt forward, landing on the vampire's back. It roared in surprise as she thrust her stake through its heart. She fell to the ground as her support disintegrated in mid-air and she felt rough hands grab her from behind. She gurgled as the two vampires behind her held her on the ground. One kicked her viciously in the ribs while the other knelt on her chest, her hands around Tash's throat, squeezing with superhuman strength.
Sorrow shook his head trying to clear it. He heard Tash's pain-filled cry as a vampire's foot connected with her ribs. Sorrow spun, leaving a smoking cut in the chest of the still dumbfounded vampire. Sorrow raised Hizashi and Tash gazed wide eyed as, with a cry, Sorrow drove his shining blade through muscle, bone and viscera to cleave the vampire choking her from shoulder to hip.
Sorrow drove the other vampire away from Tash with a series of blistering cuts. Tash winced, her ribs complaining as she sucked in a lungful of air before pulling out a bottle of holy water and throwing it at the half crippled vampire trying to blindside Sorrow.
Tash pushed aside the pain of her crushed larynx and bruised ribs. Time enough to worry about them later. Her blood sang in her ears as she faced the crippled vampire, his half arm dangling uselessly and the side of his face smoking. Sorrow seemed to be on top of the other vampire, Hizashi whooshing through the air.
Looking at hers, Tash felt it was almost a mercy killing. But he wasn't ready to die yet. He snarled and leapt at her, pushing her back to the wall. The air was knocked from her lungs, but she retained the presence of mind to set her stake in front of her, its butt against her sternum. The vampire was following up, and Tash wrapped her free arm around his waist and pulled him towards her, ensuring he impaled himself on the stake. She blinked the dust from her eyes and turned her head.
She could still hear Sorrow's sword, and wondered why he hadn't dusted his vampire yet. Then she noticed the vampire also had a sword - the clang of the two blades meeting rang up and down the alley. She watched for a moment, sure Sorrow could best the vamp, and unable to penetrate that barrier of whirling steel.
Sorrow grunted as agony flared down his side. Blood seeped from a shallow cut that ran from his chest and across to his waist. Steely determination filled Sorrow's eyes, and his next strokes pressed the vampire back, step by step. Finally he shifted his grip and brought Hizashi down in a sweeping strike that neatly severed the vampire's head from his body.
Tash hobbled over to Sorrow, who stood calmly. Tash felt a pang of envy. Why couldn't she recapture that calm? She was feeling anything but calm. She was feeling... buzzed. Trying to control her breathing, she asked Sorrow, "You OK? I saw you get sliced."
Sorrow pulled his shirt away from the cut and glanced down. It was shallow and now only oozed blood. Sorrow hissed as his fingers explored the wound. "It'll need cleaning but it should be fine. But the shirt’s a total loss - I liked this shirt."
Tash gingerly felt her own ribs. Despite how they felt, nothing seemed to be broken. It hurt to swallow, and her throat felt bruised, but there seemed to be no permanent damage. She turned her attention to Sorrow's wound. "Hmm, it's shallow, but it will need to be dressed. You know, I think eleven vampires in one night is a pretty good deal. Let's quit while we're ahead?"
Tash really just wanted to get home and work off some of this excess excitement. Feeling a shiver as she looked at Sorrow's bare chest, she figured it was just as well she knew she had Victor waiting for her at home.
They tidied themselves up as best they could and turned to leave the alley and find their way home. Tash was so full of thoughts of the fight and of getting home to Victor that she didn't notice the dark shape detach itself from its vantage point across the road. The boyish features split in a grin as he watched Tash and Sorrow limp away.
A Watcher in the Night
Sunday, 14th August 2005 – midnight to 3am
Deon found the brownstone on Poplar Avenue easily. Not only had Ian Pollock provided him with an address, he’d even received a picture of the building. This matched it well enough – given the vagaries of memory – that Deon was satisfied this was the place. All that remained was to wait until Natasha came out. He settled on the roof of a building several blocks away and trained his binoculars on the front door.
When she did emerge, it surprised him how much older she looked. But, naturally, several years had passed – she was no longer a teenager any more. Deon’s mouth quirked. He, of course, would be a kid all his unlife. She seemed equipped with myriad concealed weapons, which Deon’s trained eye detected. She was also with a hunting partner. Hmm, this was unexpected. He watched the pair walk down the street. He had heard that Natasha hunted vampires now and Deon laughed in ironic amusement. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”
He kept his distance all night, until finally the pair of hunters caught up with the hapless vampires in the alleyway. Deon snorted in disgust. These were pathetic excuses for creatures of the night. They put the breed to shame. Deon was glad Natasha and her companion were able to make short work of them. He watched the fight with interest, noting how Natasha handled herself.
He wasn’t sure about the guy, though. He seemed pretty handy with that sword. Who was he? Deon figured if Natasha hunted with him regularly, he’d better find out about the man. At one point she called out a word of warning to her partner that carried to where Deon lurked. *Sorrow?* Could that be the guy’s name? He snorted. If so, it was obviously assumed.
The pair soon eliminated the six vampires and left the alley. Deon peeled himself away from his shadowed alcove and followed from a discreet distance. It was apparent after a few blocks that they were headed back to the apartment block. Deon hung back, content to watch and wait for a few more days. He had lots to catch up on before he could reintroduce himself to his darling Tasha.
Drew and Daye go to dinner
***** Saturday, August 13, 2005, 7 pm *****
Daye stood in front of the mirror and double checked her reflection. She was wearing a short, black leather skirt and a tight white t-shirt. Her long hair, normally left flowing down her back, was tied up in a long tail atop her head, and her make up was artfully done to hide the signs of fatigue on her face. No matter how long she slept lately, she always felt tired. With a sigh, Daye turned away from the mirror and walked into her living room just as Drew was closing the door behind him.
Drew looked up when Daye came into the room. His breath caught in his throat. She looked so beautiful. They hadn’t been together all week, and he’d missed her so. Nearly forgotten how just seeing her got him all worked up. Especially when she tossed aside the demure librarian look for something slick and sexy. “You look good enough to eat,” Drew said, crossing the room to draw her into his arms. She felt better than she looked. “Baby,” Drew crooned, leaning in to nuzzle her neck, “It’s been too long.”
Daye giggled, feeling suddenly content in Drew’s embrace. There was only that niggling discomfort lingering in the back of her mind. She ignored it. “Don’t we have reservations?” she asked.
Drew pulled back reluctantly. “Always the sensible one,” he grumbled. “We should get going.”
Drew led Daye out of her apartment, down the stairs, and out of the building to his car. He held the door as she climbed in, making no effort to hide the fact that he was checking out her legs as she settled in. Daye laughed at his playful flirtation. She reached around to lay her arm on his shoulder when he climbed in and pulled away from the building. Daye twirled the strands of hair at Drew’s collar around her fingers as they drove to the restaurant. Soon, they had handed the keys over to the valet and been led to a small, intimate table in a dimly lit but expensive restaurant.
Daye decided quickly on a dish made with various greens and mushrooms that was a specialty of the house and was ready when the waiter came to take their order. After he left, she took Drew’s hand and leaned forward to listen intently while he spoke to her of his classes and research. She found his work fascinating (even the dry, technical parts), and even if she didn’t, Daye could have just listened to the soothing sound of his voice all night long. For the first time in a week, she felt relaxed. *Maybe I’m working too hard,* Daye thought. *I’ll have to make sure Drew and I spend more time together from now on. He’s good for me.*
Drew continued to share his day with Daye and listened as she shared the rigors of hers with him. Dinner was uneventful, and they soon found themselves back in his car.
“How about a drive?” Drew asked. “It’s so nice out tonight.”
Daye nodded, watching him, her gaze warm and loving. Soon, he was driving along a deserted stretch of highway, with her head resting on his shoulder. Drew was talking to her and Daye was answering. Suddenly, she fell silent, and Drew realized she had dozed off.
*****
Daye sat in a convertible, the top down, cruising down an empty stretch of sunlit highway. Passing green fields and lush trees, she snuggled into the shoulder her head was pillowed on. She could smell the scents of green forests and dark places, as she turned to gaze up at Ryan. He had one hand on the wheel, and the other rested easily on the door. His smile was as sunny as the day.
“Daye, my love,” Ryan crooned, glancing down at her. “Are you happy?”
Daye thought about his question as they passed a group of kids playing in a field. The eldest, a pretty blonde girl, stopped to watch them go by. Daye realized as they went by that she was indeed happy. She thought for a moment that there was some doubt, but suddenly she knew for certain. She was happy with Ryan, only with Ryan.
*****
Drew pulled the car up to the side of Daye’s building and parked. He came around and carried her out. She didn’t even stir, and he realized how tired she was. Drew carried her up and laid her on her bed. When she still didn’t wake, Drew carefully undressed Daye and slid her under the covers. It wasn’t how he’d wanted their evening to end, but he could accept it. Slipping out of his clothes, he climbed into bed next to her. He would just make sure tomorrow started a bit better.
Tarix Conny
Tyrux reached in her purse and took out her keys, fumbled with them for a while and found the key to her apartment. She unlocked the door and went in. After she had locked the door she threw her bag on the nearby table and threw herself down on the couch. She felt exhausted from the day’s work at the fast food burger joint she currently worked in. It was called the “Laughing Dogs”. What kind of a name was that for a restaurant, but at least she could afford her apartment from the pay.
Her apartment. It was in a remote neighborhood where gunshots were heard almost daily. It was an unfriendly place, which most blokes avoided, but at least the apartment was cheap.
The apartment had one room to it and a bathroom that was down the hall shared by all the other tenants on that floor. The kitchen was next to the bathroom - also shared. Her own flat was quite small and it was regular to find it infested by cockroaches and other bugs no matter how hard one tried to use bug or roach spray.
Tyrux massaged her head and relaxed for a while. It was Tarix now, she reminded herself, Tarix Conny. She had named herself Tyrux when she had found herself. The name was on a nearby garbage dump where she had been lying. After she moved to L.A., she thought of a whole new start. That’s why she changed her name.
Tyrux; the name took her back two years ago. The memories came rushing to her, awful nightmarish memories.
-------
She felt disorientated. She tried to get up but her head was filled with pain. Slowly she tried to sit up. Where was she? She looked around and found that she was in an alley lying next to the garbage can. *Maybe someone thought I was garbage and threw me away.*
Slowly and steadily she got to her feet. She started swaying and caught onto the garbage bin. Her head was still clouded by pain. She looked at the trashcan. It was blue in colour and had two words written on it: “Tyrux Inc.”
After a moment she walked out of the alleyway, still swaying and feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous. She looked around the street but everything was unfamiliar to her. She looked to her left and saw a small clinic by the end of the road. Slowly she made her way to it.
------
“Well, that ought to make you feel better” the nurse replied, ”Now just hold this ice pack to your head and I’ll be right back with the doctor".
The nurse left the room and she had more time to think about herself. *So, who am I? What is wrong with me? I don’t know how I got here, where I am and who I am.*
She reached into her pockets to try to find some sort of identification. A wallet, a driver’s license. Anything. But she found nothing as such. Her fingers closed around something and she took it out to examine it. It was a small disc like object. It was a metallic disc with no jagged edges, and a hole in the middle. She tried to examine the disc and found that it had some sort of encryption all over it, but it was in a language which she did not understand.
As the doctor came into the room, she put the disc back in her pocket.
“Well now, you’ve had quite a lot of injuries, young lady. What happened?” the doctor asked.
“I, umm, don’t quite remember.”
“You don’t remember how you got a fractured finger, bruised arms and legs, a swollen face and a concussion in the head?”
“Yeah that’s right.”
“Hmmm, can you give me your full name and age?”
“I don’t remember that either!”
The doctor looked at her for a while then said, “I see, do you know that you may have amnesia?”
“Amnesia?” she repeated.
“Yes, loss of memory, that may be caused by the concussion in your head.”
“So, what do I do? Are you going to give me medication for that?”
“Not really. I believe that with amnesia patients the best medicine is to relax and let the memories come back to them slowly. I will however prescribe you medicines for the bruises.”
“Ok, umm thanks,” she replied, meekly.
“I will still need a name for the records, any name that might come to your mind.”
She tried to think of a name that may be hers, trying to urge her brain to come up with her name. But all she got was an increase in her headache.
“Tyrux,” she finally replied the only name that had sprung to her mind. “Tyrux is my name.”
------
She opened her eyes and came back to the present. She looked at her watch; it was 7pm. In about an hour she’d have to get ready and go for her other job. She also worked part time in a small bookshop where she arranged all the books and did small errands. Her old job in New York had also been at a fast food joint. She had quit from there when weird things started to happen.
One day when she was late for work, her boss had started to shout at her. So much so that she couldn’t stand the embarrassment of all her co-workers staring. Then suddenly she started hearing their voices.
“Well, she’s in trouble today."
“I won’t be shocked if she’s fired.”
“Another one bites the dust!”
“Poor thing, she caught the boss in a bad temper today.”
But she looked around and no one had said anything, nobody’s lips had moved. And then, when her boss’s anger failed to fade she felt her anger rise up her own throat but she kept quiet. Suddenly she felt as if a certain force had been released by her, a certain wave of cool air swept over her. Right then the pots and pans in the kitchen began to vibrate and fall.
Tarix had been sure she had caused that. That’s why she panicked. She took off her uniform jacket and her name badge and threw them at the manager’s feet and fled the restaurant. After that she put all her savings together and decided to move away from the Big Apple. She wanted to go as far away as she could and decided that she would leave for L.A. Why L.A? She didn’t know; she just had a deep feeling she may find out about herself there.
It had been three months since the time she moved to L.A. and she still had no recollection of her past. Except for her dreams. Or nightmares, she should call them. She had weird blurry nightmares almost every night and all of them were the same.
-----
Tarix is standing alone on a pavement. It is very dark and hard to see. She moves around trying to locate herself and comes upon two little girls playing together. The faces of the girls are pearly white and their hair is tied with a red ribbon. They are dressed in cute dresses with ribbons and laces on them. On closer inspection one can make out that the girls are twins of about 10 years of age.
As Tarix comes closer, the girls look up with their blue eyes.
“Purity is not perfect”. Both the girls say this together in a voice that could most definitely not belong to children of their age.
Both the girls start to play again for a moment and then the twin on the left gets up and starts to walk away.
Tarix follows her until the little girl stops. When the child turns around, Tarix gasps. Her pearly white face is now turned to black and her eyes are now red. The little girl extends her hand towards Tarix.
“Don’t leave me, don’t leave me!” she cries. Tarix just stands there. And then suddenly a green scaly hand grabs the girl and starts to drag her away.
Tarix tries to move but she is frozen to the spot.
With the girl still crying, the creature drags her away from view.
------
At that point Tarix woke up, perspiring.
She got up from the couch to change out of her uniform so that she could go to her next job. She left her apartment and went to her job.
Three hours later she returned to her same dreary apartment. She took out her keys to unlock the door but found out that the door was unlocked.
*Strange! I am sure it was locked when I left.*
Slowly she opened the door and stepped inside. She switched on the lights and saw that a man was sitting on her couch.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my home!”
The man stood up. He was middle aged with specks of grey in his otherwise dark brown hair. He seemed to be dressed formally in a black suit and a red tie.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Thule. I am from a group that is called the Order of Valor,” he replied.
“Very nice, but that doesn’t explain why you are in my home,” Tarix demanded.
“Ah, yes, your home. Very, um, homely. The reason I came here is because I have been looking for you. I tracked you down all the way from New York to Los Angeles.”
“Why?”
“Well, you see, I knew your father.”
Those words sent a chill down her spine, and she got a little excited. She would finally know who she was.
“My father!” she gasped. “How do you know I really am his daughter?”
“He gave me a picture of you, that’s how I found you.” Thule showed her a picture of herself in a blue blouse, smiling. She looked a little younger.
“So who am I and how do you know my father?”
“Your father worked for the Order of Valor just as I. You see, you are a half demon.”
Tarix blinked. She felt her hope began to fade. “A demon, you say. Let me guess, my father was the devil himself and he’s dead and now I am to sit in his throne in hell and rule the helldom. How nice.”
“You humor me.”
“No, I believe it is you who is humoring me. What are you some sort of practical joker? You can leave now.” Tarix gestured towards the door.
“I see you don’t believe me. Then how do you explain your powers? Oh yes, I know about your powers. The same as your mother, you are telepathic and telekinetic. I am sure you have discovered those on reflex. How do you explain that?”
When Tarix did not reply he continued, “Your father was a human and your mother was a demon of a long ago ancient demon race called the “Koolang”. This race have the same physical appearance as the humans, the only difference is that they possess certain powers.
“Over about three years ago, your father and mother were killed, butchered by some thing we think may be hunting down the “Koolang” race. Your father was our only human employee, just because he had the knowledge of all demons there ever existed. He was like an encyclopedia for demons. He had the most magnificent memory. He was one of my closest friends. When he died I went looking for you, in the hope that you would be alive.”
She just stood there unable to say anything, letting what he had said sink in. Finally she said, “So you found me, now what? I still don’t know much about myself.”
“I am afraid I came here to tell you what I know of your parents. Of you I know nothing. That, you will have to find out on your own. I also came here to propose you to join Order of Valor under my patronage.”
“But why would I do that?”
“Well, the Order of Valor may help you find out about yourself. Why don’t you think about it and I’ll come back after two days.”
With that, Thule quietly left Tarix.
Tarix spent the entire night thinking about what the man had said. Finally when she went to sleep, she had her nightmare again.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Midnight, Saturday to Sunday. The Goofy Lot
Killroy spotted his taxi parked sloppily in the aisle between a Taurus and a KIA. Its tailpipe sputtered filthy gray exhaust lined with silver, luminous beneath the high and powerful guide-lights on the nearest flagpole. Cruising the lots were seven other taxis, carrion machines homing in on the pitiable families who were right then discovering their dead car batteries. Typical customers: they would be weary, desperate, practically begging to get taken for a ride. Hundreds had come to see the grand reopening of the Main Street Electrical Parade, so this was an industrious time for cabs, good eatin’ for all drivers except one.
Hesch, she decided, would not be earning a fare. Determined to reach him first, Killroy slung her souvenir shopping bag over a shoulder and picked up the pace through the herd. A myriad of thrill-gorged faces bobbed in the darkness toward their vehicles, and with surreptitious strides Killroy faded from their ranks... and materialized in the front seat with her armful of goodies, and greeted the man with a coy twiddling of her fingers. Her Mickey Mouse balloon bounced and nodded at Hesch from the cab’s ceiling, whereas Minnie didn’t survive. It raucously burst after the translocation was complete.
“Oh, drat!” Killroy said, holding its epidermis by the string. Minnie’s shriveled face gawked back at 1/8th its original size. “I bashed thirty-nine peek-a-boo moles with a big, Styrofoam bopper to win this li’l darlin’. Now she’s gone, gone, gone, whoa-wo-wo-wo-whoa.” She regarded the loss politely and with lightheartedness.
Hesch undid his seatbelt and swatted at Mickey like it was a renegade mosquito. “What friggin’ parlor game did you have to lose to get stuck with this creepy thing?”
Poor, poor sarcastic, sad, sadistic, merciless Albert Hesch. Shooing the cabbie aside, Killroy gave a blow that sent Mickey floating into the back seat, away from harm.
“I took it,” she said, and left it at that.
She remembered, however, how she had taken it from a less than innocent little boy whom had stolen it from a more than innocent little girl whom had just happened to be in same line for Star Tours as Killroy. The boy burgled it past C-3PO and straight into her human-disguised legs. Killroy simply looked down; the boy cranked his head up and got a brief glimpse of her true face. His eyes popped, and he took off running. After a satisfying “hmph,” Killroy shed her demonic demeanor and snatched the boy’s string. She resumed her long wait in line, this time with a Mickey Mouse to share the pleasure. She could have given the balloon back to the little girl, sure, but this was Killroy’s vacation. And the truth was, she didn’t want Hesch to know that even vengeance demons could be self-involved and unjust. It was none of his business.
“Star Tours was boring, by the way,” she said, remembering the poor girl, but Hesch was busy navigating around the droves of people. Maybe Killroy should have granted the kid a wish of vengeance against the young thief. Lost in musings, she placed the broken balloon in the ashtray and left its stringy tail dangling. It reminded her of a dead sperm. “Poor Minnie. Once again, a woman suffers while her man hightails it to safety like the proverbial mouse.”
“What a crock. If that’s true, you and I wouldn’t have had any reason to do business. Sometimes women ruin men’s lives, or have you forgotten that?”
The demon’s lovely face froze in an expression of hilarity. Could it be that Hesch was still bitter? If his reckless driving through the Donald lot was any indication, she figured he must be livid. But what ever could he be livid about?
“So tell me,” she said, gaping happily, “how’s your v-wish coming along?”
“It’s been months and months of not coming along. Sam ain’t getting the job done. I’m starting to wonder if my wish will ever come true.” He cast her a quick glower.
Hand-over-heart, she said, “I’m a demon of my word, aren’t I?”
“Not so far.”
“I declare, Albert, perhaps your problem is a small lack of faith. Look at Sam, his wish is coming true. As we speak, his friend Bill is smack-dab in the middle of his second trimester.”
“Whoop-te-fuckin’-do for Sam Aubrey. But what about my wish? What about my pain?”
“Have patience.”
“Stuff your patience. I made my wish first.”
“Pay attention to your driving,” she said, pointing out a group of Asian children in the crosswalk. “You have to realize, Albert, you didn’t ask for something so simple as making your best friend pregnant. You insisted on toying with the human heart.”
“Kimmie ain’t human.”
“Fine. Whatever she is this week, it doesn’t really matter does it?”
“I wished for her to get her heart broken! I’ve been giving that girl rides a lot lately, I’ll have you know, missy, and I don’t see any broken heart. Do you?” Hesch adopted a gloomy tone and put on the left blinker. “She doesn’t even remember my name.”
“Sorry to be technical, Albert dear—”
“I’d prefer it if you called me Hesch.”
“Hesch,” she said, shaking her head doubtfully. “But you wished not just for her to get her heart broken, remember? Let’s see... how did you word it? Oh yes, you said, and I quote, ‘Please, ma’am, please make her love me again.’ Blah, blah, blah. Then you said, ‘First make her fall in love with some guy so pathetic that she realizes how good I was and comes running back to me.’ Then you whined some more, and ended your wish with, and I’m still quoting, Heshie-baby, you said, ‘Oh gods, please, please, please, puh-lease make this guy break her heart.’
“Do you remember saying that, Hesch? Well you got your wish. Sam Aubrey was the most pathetic guy I could find on such short notice. Is it my fault you didn’t order a Cassanova? Revenge could have been yours by now.”
“You’re supposed to be a help,” Hesch said. “Why didn’t you re-word my wish for me?”
“Sorry, deary. Not in my job description.”
They were currently being swept along in the midst of a sea of traffic. “Where am I taking you by the way?” Hesch said.
“Since it looks like I’m going to be slumming it for a while, I say we head for Alhambra. I’ll think I’ll stay in this Kimmie of yours’s apartment tonight.”
“Won’t the kid be there?”
“Nah. In a short while our Sam is about to be chased by some doggies I sent his way. Oh, don’t give me that look, you goof, he’ll be okay. But he’ll be sleeping someplace safer tonight. He won’t be coming back, in fact.”
“Sure of that, are ya?”
“I may be on vacation, my dear, but I’m still a professional. I follow up on my responsibilities. Our darlin’ Sam needs a little push now and then to get him going in the right direction. And mark my words; the people he’s hooking up with now should help to bring your Kimmie situation to a head.”
“If you say so.”
“And you thought I forgot about you.”
“I know you forgot about me.”
“Oh hush now. I promise you, just when things start looking their bleakest, that girl will fall in love with Sam, he will reject her, and she will come to you for comfort. Wish granted.”
“I don’t see how if the kid’s not going to be living in her apartment.”
“Just because your linear brain can’t see the big picture, doesn’t make it unlikely. Trust me.”
“I’ll believe it when it happens.”
“You know, Mr. Negative, you could say thank you.”
Hesch blew air through his teeth and turned sharply onto the highway. “Piss off,” he said.
That... was... it! Killroy was not all whipped peaches, no sir, and Hesch was letting her supple features deceive him. She grabbed the steering wheel and pulled. The cab skid to the right in looping circles as the tires shrieked and four black tread marks came into existence. The vehicle roared to a stop halfway across the lip of the road. They were now turned completely around, facing oncoming traffic. Hesch shrank into himself. His neck disappeared, three chins revealed themselves, and his eyes swept over Killroy’s fury with shyness and regret.
Pompously had she donned her true demon self, as breathtaking as the infernos of Hell. Heat was emanating from her body and the passenger seat headrest was softening. Mickey Mouse, that damned male of a mouse, exploded — most silently, however, in juxtaposition with the boom of her terrifying voice:
“Albert Hesch, you heed me. I am here now on this mortal plane because of your idiocy. You wished for vengeance, you got Sam. You got Sam, you gave him my number. You gave him my number, he invoked me. You, Hesch, doomed me to live in this city until both Bunny Aubrey and your ex-girlfriend have suffered to the full extent of The Rules. If anyone shall be tetchy about this insufferably long predicament, it is I! See now my suffering. See now that I have been a mighty good sport about all this. Do you see now my point, Albert?”
Hesch nodded, his triple chins quivering. “Yeah-yeah, sure-sure.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“I’m sure, I’m sorry!”
“Well okay then,” Killroy exhaled green flames and blackened the windshield. “If you’re sure about it.” Her shoulders softened. She dropped her remarkably angry fists into her lap and allowed them to become ordinary.
She sighed smoke.
Everyday noises were coming back to her, whereas during her short tirade she’d only heard her own lecturing and the unspoken crack of rage. Now there was traffic again, cars beeping, changing lanes, giving the taxi cab its space. “You can take me to Kimmie’s now,” she said. The amiability was returning to her throat.
The vehicle started up. Hesch was shaken.
“Anyhoo,” she said merrily after they were moving, “if your ultimate goal was to get this girl back, why did you give our Sammy-boy the Poison Tree?” Giving him such an ancient weapon seemed to Killroy like a drastic attempt to get Kimmie staked.
Hesch looked guilty. “I changed my mind about what I wanted. She kept calling me Sal, for chrissakes, can you blame me? So I guess I decided I wanted her dead, I don’t know. But you gotta realize, I thought you could change a v-wish midstream.”
“You can’t.”
“Well duh.”
“You realize, genius, that she can’t really, truly die until after she’s been made to come back to you. The original wish must be fulfilled. At that point, if you still want the girl dead... hm, I suppose you will have to kill her yourself.”
“That’s what the kid is for. So I won’t have to kill her.”
Killroy rubbed the sun-cracked dashboard, then willed her eyes to glow in shades of red and green, just for effect. “Funny,” she said, “you didn’t need Sam when it came to running over your wife.”
Hesch became silent. The glowing eyes worked like a charm. That and, of course, the biting truth. She could now enjoy the rest of the drive in peace.
It wasn’t long after reaching Alhambra that they parked near the apartment building where Sam was currently living. Killroy had excitedly pointed out four dead werewolves, all reverted to human form, in the street. Hesch didn’t seem amused by her “see-see” attitude. He did perk up, however, when next she pointed out the XY. “See?” she said. “There’s Sam.”
“I’ve seen that girl before. What are they doing together?”
“Her name is Jade. I arranged for them to meet, of course. Not that she knows it. It’s a wish thing. All part of the wonderful kingdom of magic.”
Killroy began humming When You Wish Upon a Star, but the cab driver hissed, “Shush! Comin’ this way!” Unwittingly, Sam and Jade passed by the car window, crossed the street, and entered the apartment building. Hesch was still in whisper-mode: “The little lady’s part of my wish, too, you say?”
“Most definitely.”
“I’ve got a bad feeling this is going to get worse before it gets better.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be keeping a close eye on things from now on.”
“Peachy.”
“And if ever you need me, I’ll be living right up there.” She pointed to a dark window on the fourth floor. Suddenly, the window lit up with yellow light. “As we speak Sam and Jade are collecting his belonings. We’ll let them finish and get out of there. Then I’ll go on up.”
“Aren’t you worried that Kimmie might come home and wonder what you’re doing in her house?”
“I’ll tell her I’m her roommate. She’ll buy that.”
Hesch was staring, almost as if he could see right through the walls of the apartment and into outer space and beyond.
“What’s the matter, Heschie?” she said lovingly.
“I was just thinking. This Sam kid, he kind of smells like baby powder, don’t he?”
Killroy thought back to her meeting with Sam. “Yes,” she said, “I think I noticed that.”
“Kimmie, she always smelled great, you know, like French fries. And ketchup. And cigar smoke. I loved how that girl smelled.”
“Do you have a point to this?”
He frowned. “Last couple of times I chaperoned her to After Dark, she smelled like baby powder.”
“Wonderful, Albert! See? Your wish is coming true already.”
Hesch said, “Good.”
But Killroy could see it in his face. He didn’t mean good. He was having bad, bad, jealous thoughts. Vengeful thoughts. The kind of thoughts that have kept v-demons in business for thousands of years. It never bored her, the hatred to be found in women and men scorned. Killroy put a hand to her mouth and tried to quell an insatiable smile. Point of fact: she failed to stop that smile. Hesch was livid.
Outside Chevrine's
***Sunday, August 14, 2005 - 2:00 a.m.***
Parasol found a dark corner outside Chevrine’s, lit a cigarette and lurked. Last call was given and the crowd was leaving the building, mingling in the parking lot for that last ditch effort to go home with a stranger for a drunken sex brawl. And they were all loud and wrong.
*My people, my people,* Parasol mused. It had been that way in the quarter, too. Revelry among black folks is just not what you’d call sedate. Parasol admired that, though not really her style. She’d borne witness to the unspeakable inhumanity visited upon one group of men by another, and even then, when the cries whispered into the clouds, there was a party to be had if only in celebration of the life lost.
The only time she felt that need for loud celebration was when she was in church and the spirit moved within her compelling her to rejoice in song. *Oh, well.*
Parasol shook her head and concentrated on the task at hand.
The West Indian vampire had scored the two silly young women he was talking to. He engaged them in a conversation outside the door of Chevrine’s, no doubt killing time until the parking lot was less full of patrons milling about. The young women were hanging on his every word and she could tell he was mustering all the charm his accent provided.
The vampire’s attention was distracted for a moment as if he noticed something. He scanned the parking lot moving toward Parasol’s direction. She dropped the cigarette, stamping it out with a twist of her Jimmy Choos and pulled herself further into the shadows, watching him carefully.
The vampire shrugged, turning his attention back on the bimbo burgers he engaged in smiley conversation.
“Sista, that was a cold way to play me off,” a voice intoned in her ear startling her into a silent gasp. The Nelly knockoff from the bar was standing beside her grinning and chewing the same tiny wad of gum with his front teeth. Parasol scolded herself for her carelessness.
“You interested in my boy over there, ‘cause I know he’d be down for you over them hoodrats any day of the week.” He walked around in front of her, obstructing her view of the West Indian.
Parasol’s stared at him through hooded eyes, trying to figure out if he really knew the West Indian or was running game for her attention. The boy was definitely not a vampire; she could feel the heat from his body. Plus there was that awful breath. Only humans had that smell of decomposing food and stomach acid.
“You know him?” she drawled.
“Yeah.” Chomp, chomp. “We been cut buddies for a long time, ever since he came from De I-lans Mon.” Grin, grin, chomp, chomp. “I could hook you up."
Parasol didn’t know if this boy was just stupid or what. She didn’t know if he really knew the West Indian and if so, did he know the West Indian was a vampire? She didn’t know what his motives were for the offer. Absent more information, she decided the best course of action was to get more information.
“Hmmm. No need for the hook up.” Parasol smiled sweetly, “He seems pretty occupied; are you his ride?”
“Naw, I just ran into the brother at the club.” Chomp, chomp.
Okay - think about it. He knew of the vampire because he knew he was West Indian, though they probably weren’t such good friends as the boy suggested. He probably didn’t know that he was a vampire. The boy was merely trying to score nookie by association.
Parasol tried to turn her attention to the West Indian and the women, but the Nelly knockoff was in her way, his shoulder and big-ass head obliterating three quarters of her view. She watched the back of the West Indian’s head moving back and forth and turning, and the tops of the girls' heads bobbing in rapt attention – and they started moving toward the other side of the parking lot.
“But maybe we can…”
“What’s his name?” Parasol had no more time for this. She didn’t think this joker had much more information than what she could glean for herself.
“Wha..?”
“What’s his name? Your “cut buddy.” What’s his name?”
"Who? Him? Sheee... I know him from... hooo... waayy back. Brother... brother... like... like... like... fam'ly... fam'ly... t'me... we... we... like... strong..."
“You don’t know him, do ya?”
The boy was grinning and chomping and getting all in her way. With her last question, he got defensive. She could tell by the way his neck and head were working from side to side. Then he came clean. “Nah, girl, but I couldn’t just let you pass by, even if it meant playin' the brother out.”
Parasol smiled, said “Fair enough,” and promptly thrust the heel of her hand into the bridge of his nose. At first, the boy didn’t react. The benign smile stayed plastered on his face and he chomped his gum a few more times. Then he said with amazement “Damn,” keeled over and fell like a redwood. Parasol kicked her Jimmy Choos over him and headed in the direction the West Indian and his Happy Meals last convened.
Reaching her quarry’s last position, she looked around. There was no one in sight. The parking lot was empty save for a few desperate stragglers.
Parasol cursed the Nelly knockoff for distracting her. After all this time, she really ought to learn to just cut to the chase without wasting time with niceties.
She leaned on her baby, dejected for the loss of her lead on the Cadre D’Ames.
“I’m relentless, girl, when I want something. And I want you.” Nelly was standing by her side, yet again.
“What…!!!?” She was aghast that the Nelly was yet again by her side. Parasol nearly shed her own skin. “Are you made of Teflon?” she yowled. He grinned and chomped.
“No, sugar, regular old flesh wrapped around,” and the Nelly knockoff grew to insane proportions, “the demon who’s not gonna get played.”
And he grabbed Parasol by the neck and squeezed.
daye pulls away from drew
***** Sunday, August 14, 2005, early morning ****
Daye sat in a rocking chair in the dimly lit living room, crooning softly to the cotton wrapped bundle in her arms. The baby had just fallen asleep and Daye was reveling in the soft, sweet scent of powder and lotion and all. She sang an old lullaby her mother had once sung to her. Daye rocked, smiling blissfully as the sun slowly rose outside the windows. From behind, she heard a soft footfall and turned to see Ryan enter the room, his eyes drowsy and his dark curls sleep tousled. He smiled softly when he saw her.
“Hey,” Ryan whispered, coming up to stand behind her and place his hands on her shoulders, “what are you doing up? Someone keeping you awake?”
Daye glanced back down at the golden curls on her daughter’s head. “Oh no,” she whispered back, ”Mariah’s an angel. She was just a bit hungry, is all.”
Ryan chuckled. “That girl can do no wrong in your eyes,” he said, coming around to kneel beside the chair and stroke both his wife and child.
“Well, she is perfect,” Daye responded. “Anyone can see that.”
Ryan laughed softly again. “If you say so, love,” he said. Carefully, he lifted the baby out of Daye’s arms. “How about I go lay her in her cradle and we go back to bed?”
Daye flushed at the wicked gleam that suddenly came into his eyes. She nodded, rising slowly to her feet, and following Ryan down the hall to lay the infant in her cradle in the nursery. She checked to make sure the monitor was on, and then she and Ryan continued down the hall of their little house and into the bedroom they shared at the end of the hall.
Daye watched Ryan for a moment, the soft morning light glinting off his skin and gilding his hair. She sighed. This was the man she loved. The only man she’d ever loved. She glanced down at her hand, watching gold and diamonds sparkle on her finger. She’d pledged her life to him. Daye would do anything, absolutely anything for this man.
Ryan had climbed back into their big four poster bed and was beckoning to Daye with a crook of his finger. “Come back to bed,” he said.
Laughing at the warm hunger she could see in his gaze, Daye eagerly joined him. She gave herself over to his skilled touch, and was soon lost to the world.
*****
Drew lay beside Daye in the early morning light. She was making soft, sweet noises in her sleep, and that combined with the warmth of her lying so close was wreaking havoc on Drew’s libido. Carefully, he reached out to touch her, and Daye turned to him. That was all the encouragement he needed. Drew began to make love to her.
As he kissed and caressed Daye’s body, she sighed and moaned, but her eyes remained closed. Was she awake? She seemed to be completely engaged, but had yet to look at him. The combination of her aroused body, but removed mind, was giving Drew the creeps. He stopped kissing her, and gently shook her shoulder.
“Daye,” he said softly. She remained asleep, deeply. Drew noticed that her skin was very pale, and her breathing too shallow for someone in this deep a sleep. What was going on?
“Daye?” he repeated again and again, shaking her more violently and raising his voice. After an endless time, when Drew had begun to wonder if this was Ireland all over again, she suddenly came awake. Daye seemed disoriented. When she saw Drew lying next to her, his chest bare, she jumped up from the bed, clutching the sheet against her body. For a moment, she looked scared and angry.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Drew was confused by her attitude. It wasn’t like they weren’t already lovers. And he hadn’t taken advantage of her, though he’d been tempted. “Amanda, baby,” he said, “I …er…well, I was just waking you up.”
Daye glanced around the room, unsure. The last thing she remembered, they had been in Drew’s car, driving around the city. How did they get back here? She noticed the sunlight starting to shine through the window. *Morning?* she thought. *I thought it was the middle of the night.*
“How’d we get here?” she asked. “I don’t remember anything after the car ride.”
Drew nodded, getting slowly to his feet. Daye still looked kind of spooked. “You fell asleep,” he answered. “I brought you back here and put you to bed. You were out pretty cold, to be honest. You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping too well lately.”
Daye frowned. She had fallen asleep? She still felt so tired. No matter how long she slept lately, she felt tired. And she couldn’t remember any dreams. Usually, when she slept, she dreamt, and in the morning she could remember her dreams. But now, it was as if she had never slept at all, despite evidence to the contrary.
“I have been sleeping,” she replied. “I’m just tired. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”
Drew nodded, but he was studying her face. She looked so worn out, still. He knew she’d slept a long time last night, but to look at her, you would never know it. “Do you want to lay back down?” Drew asked. “I could get you something to eat?”
Daye nodded, slowly climbing back into the bed. She didn’t feel sick, just tired. Drew came over and kissed her on the forehead, and inside, Daye felt like pulling away. She didn’t do it, but her mind and body railed at Drew’s tender touch.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
**** Sunday 14th August - 2pm ****
Mantheana knocked on the door with a sharp rap. Maria was talking quietly to her doll about the supposed wonders of Jess' house. Would there be chairs? Did she have toys? Did she like dolls? More importantly would there be cookies?
The door opened.
Jess opened to the door to see Mantheana and Maria standing at the door. “Hi! Please come in.”
“Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee?” Jess asked them once they had both entered.
"Oh, tea thank you. Coffee keeps me up all night. Maria, greet your host." Mantheana looked down at Maria who was deeply engrossed in her conversation with Miesha.
“Do you want to sit down, I’ll just go put the kettle on.” Jess smiled then walked into the kitchen, filled the kettle and flicked the on switch. Skye followed by her side.
“Maria, do you want anything?” she called from the other room.
"Ooh, Mama, it’s a doggy!" Maria ran over and started to stroke Skye on the head. "Isn't it lickle compared to Yasha." Maria looked up at Jess. "Do you have any cookies Ma'am?"
"Maria. Manners." Mantheana gave Maria the 'apologise' look.
"Sorry Ma'am." Maria grinned in a way that suggested quite clearly that she was nothing of the sort and continued tickling Skye behind the ear.
Jess smiled at the little girl. “Call me Jess. You want a cookie, huh?” Jess reached into the cupboard and put a few biscuits on a plate and brought them into the sitting room and gave a short whistle to Skye for her to follow.
Jess put the biscuits on the coffee table then sat on the smaller couch opposite Mantheana. Skye automatically came and landed in her lap, resting her head there.
Maria picked up a cookie. She gave some to Miesha to test for poison. (You could never be too careful, Miesha had said. But then little did she know that she was going to be dubbed with the title of official food tester) And deciding that it was a negative, she started munching happily.
“Do you want me to take your coat? It’s quite warm today.” Jess asked as she stroked Skye’s head gently.
"Yes, I suppose it is… just don't take to well to the sun, that’s all…" Mantheana shed her full length cloak and gave it politely to Jess.
*Allergic to the sun, eh?* Jess got up and put the coat over a chair. It felt cold, Mantheana was very cold, and she remembered that from when she met her the other day at Bibliophile. There was something strange about her, not a vampire, but it was still strange.
While she was up Jess made the coffee and brought it out.
"Mama would burn if she touched the sunlight. It’s not her fault, it's Papa's fault, he shouldn’t have made her like that and-" Maria was cut off by a stare from Mantheana.
Jess gave a puzzled look. *Demon?* She smiled, although slightly worried. Mantheana seemed a nice person, who had a lovely daughter, but could she be trusted?
Mantheana saw the look in Jess' eye and thought she might as well come clean. Jess seemed like a nice enough person, but could she be trusted?
"I think I ought to tell you something, Jessica, before you start making assumptions of your own.”
Jess sat and waited for the revelation to come from Mantheana’s mouth.
"You've probably guessed that I'm not totally normal." Understatement of the year. "I am a Coldling. I have been for quite a vhile now. I vas turned by Maria's father. But I'm not dangerous, just… different." Maria had come over to clutch at Mantheana's hand as she did whenever she talked about Mikhail.
*Colding…* “I’ve er..heard about Coldling before…” Jess paused for a second. “I suppose since you’ve told me I should tell you… I’m a Watcher.”
"Ah, the great English fleet of demon hunters and Slayer Keepers." Then something struck Mantheana. "You're not going to take me avay are you? Or Maria?" Mantheana sat Maria on her lap and stroked her hair in a gentle but nervous fashion.
Jess smiled, “I wouldn’t dream of it, I - uh just wouldn’t tell your true nature to my brother though. He’s nice but I don’t know what he would tell the Council.”
"Thank you." Mantheana reached out and touched Jess' hand for a second before placing hers back into the deep recesses of Maria's hair. "It's so hard knowing what to let out or not. Especially to Maria. I decided that I would always be honest vith her." She let Maria go and she started playing with Miesha and Skye. "Even in difficult questions, like vhat I am."
Jess gave a small reassuring smile “Yeah, I get that. It must be hard for you.”
"Makes her vhat she is today. She knows a lot more that any other four-year-old would. Or should for that matter." Mantheana began to scratch subconsciously at her wrist as she talked.
Jess grinned, “Yeah, have to say I’ve never met a four-year-old who knows about the undead. Are you all right?” Jess noticed Mantheana’s frequent scratching.
Mantheana looked down to find her wrist had gone an ugly shade of pink. She stopped scratching immediately, remembering when her mother had told her that people who scratched themselves were either confused or hygienically challenged. She also said that Mantheana should never be either of these.
"Da- Yeys. I'm fine. I hadn't noticed I vas doing it." She pulled a sleeve over her wrist to cover it.
“Are you sure?”
Mantheana nodded in reply. "It's fine. Anyvay… A Vatcher? Do you have a Slayer?" Mantheana changed the subject.
"No, she’s arriving tonight from England along with my brother, Will."
"Aah. Then you'll have your vork cut out." Mantheana smiled. "Teenager alert. Mind you, it can't be vorse than the terrible twos."
“Heh, I’m sure,” Jess grinned.
"And no nappies, I hope." Mantheana gave a brief laugh. She had forgotten how fun socializing could be.
Jess gave a worried expression, “Yes, we would hope they’d get past that stage at sixteen though.” She laughed.
Mantheana stared momentarily at Maria who was skipping round Miesha and Skye, singing. This reminded her...
"Oh goodness, I must be going, It's almost time for Maria's ballet." Mantheana put her empty teacup down and stood up. "It's been lovely talking to you. I think Maria really enjoyed it." She smiled and Maria picked up Miesha.
"Is it time to go Mama?" Maria fiddled with Miesha's hair and walked over to Mantheana.
"I'm afraid so, pteetsa." Mantheana took her cloak and wrapped it around herself, bringing the hood over her head. She walked over to the door. "What do you say?"
"Thank you for having us Ma'am," Maria chanted and looked up and Mantheana's approving face.
"Thank you." Mantheana opened the door and walked out holding Maria's hand. "Good afternoon. I'll see you around."
“It was no problem.” Jess smiled as she saw Mantheana smile and walk down the apartment stairs.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
Sunday, 14th August 2005 - 3:15am
1318 Poplar Avenue stood silent and dark. No light shone from its many windows, no sound issued from within its walls. Tash looked up at the building she called home and closed her eyes for a second, resisting the vertigo that suddenly overcame her. She breathed in deeply, once, and let the air out slowly. The light returned to her eyes and she bounced up the steps behind Sorrow, catching up to him as he opened the door.
Tash and Sorrow's footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as they entered the building. The pain from his cut had settled into a burning ache. *I'm really out of practise. That guy should never have even got close.* Sorrow ran his fingers along the incision again and winced.
Tash looked at the slash - the blood had mostly stopped already, but it was a long cut that looked red and angry. "It needs to be cleaned up. And you won't be able to do it yourself - the position's too awkward."
Tash felt a sudden stab of disappointment. She so wanted to get to Victor soon, but Sorrow's wound couldn't wait. And it curled around his waist where he wouldn't be able to reach it himself without opening the gash further. She sighed in resignation, "My place or Jade's?"
Sorrow looked at Tash for a moment. He doubted his wound would see much attention if they treated it at Tash's place. There would be too many distractions, Victor being the most likely. "Jade's I think."
They climbed the stairs to the second floor where Sorrow unlocked Jade's door and the pair slipped into the darkened apartment. Sorrow found the lamp and switched it on, casting soft illumination in the room. Enough to see by, but not so bright that it would wake Jade.
Tash gestured for Sorrow to sit while she rummaged around in the bathroom looking for supplies. Finding what she needed, she returned to kneel in front of Sorrow. "You might as well take that off," she said, nodding at his tattered shirt.
Sorrow unbuckled Hizashi's scabbard then removed the remnants of his shirt. He relaxed a little as Tash began to clean the wound; there was pain but he was used to dealing with it. Compared to the worst of his backlash this was nothing. A few minutes later as Tash began to bandage the injury, Sorrow noted the faint bruise that was appearing around Tash's throat.
He motioned towards it, "That's not causing you any trouble is it?"
Tash felt her throat gingerly. It actually was quite painful to swallow and she wondered if she'd be able to talk at all by tomorrow, but at least nothing seemed to be permanently damaged there. She shrugged, "I've had worse."
Sorrow nodded. He had been lucky; between his magical enhancements and the simple fact he didn't have to get as close to his prey he had very few scars. Tash, on the other hand, had quite a few.
"Well you won't be going out for a while I would have thought. " Tash had a number of half healed wounds. Sorrow couldn't see most of them but he knew they were there by the way she moved.
Tash looked up at Sorrow in surprise. "Why ever not?" she asked. "Of course I'll be going back out." She bit her lip, remembering Victor's pleas for her to stay home just once in a while. But if she didn't go out, some one would get their throat torn out. And it would be her fault.
She shook her head violently, "No, I'll be going out tomorrow night, and the next. I have to, don't you see?"
Sorrow reached forward and prodded Tash's side just below the ribs. Tash jerked back as her hand covered the wound. "You're carrying a strain on your left leg as well. It's not much, and I doubt anyone else would notice but it's there. Give yourself a chance to heal, Tash, otherwise a vamp is going to end up killing you."
Tash glared at Sorrow. She rose jerkily to her feet, furious. "Right," she spat, "And the last vampire who came closest to killing me was... gee, let me see? Oh, yeah, it was you, wasn't it? Vamps without magic I can handle perfectly well, thank you very much!"
Sorrow's voice was low and filled with fury, "Like you handled the one who did that." He thrust his arm towards her throat. "A couple of seconds more and he would have crushed your larynx and you'd have been dead."
Sorrow took a deep breath. "How many will you save when you're dead Tash? How many innocents will die, not because you didn't hunt every night, but because you did?"
Tash's hands clenched involuntarily at her sides. Once. Twice. She tried to breathe deeply, to control the boiling anger inside her. "They would never have got me like that if I hadn't been busy saving your arse at the time," she countered.
Her voice shook with barely controlled fury. "Look, together we got a lot more than if we'd hunted solo. And turning my back on a couple of vamps was an acceptable gamble, knowing I had backup. And it worked, didn't it? Alone, I wouldn't have been in that situation. So don't think to lecture me on how I could have been killed."
Tash's breath was coming in quick gasps. What was happening to her? Where was her precious rationality? She closed her eyes, trying to calm the storm that raged within her.
Tash was right about it being a gamble; he wouldn't have charged the vamps had she not been there to back him up.
"How many Tash? How many will die when you're no longer there to kill the vamps? What's it going to take to make you stop?" Sorrow had seen this before and he knew how it ended - you couldn't reason with someone like this. They never stopped, just went out night after night till in the end some vampire tore out their throat and ended it.
Sorrow switched tack. Maybe he could shock some sense into her. "You get off on it, don't you? Right now all you want is a good fuck. Is Victor waiting for you?"
Tash's eyes snapped open. She stared at Sorrow. How dare he...??!!! Her right arm jerked almost of its own accord, the fist formed, ready to punch him. But she stopped it halfway to his jaw. They froze like that for a moment, Sorrow's frank green eyes meeting Tash's furiously sparking brown ones. She lowered her arm, the fire fading from her eyes.
She seemed to sag where she stood, defeated. She could no longer meet Sorrow's gaze. "I used to be so calm, so rational," she murmured. Her eyes rose again to plead with Sorrow. "What happened to me?"
Sorrow relaxed out of his half formed block. *She was actually going to hit me! But then again that was pretty low.* He sighed then motioned to her, "Sit down Tash, please." Sorrow kept his voice soft. He didn't want another explosion. "Do you know when it started?"
Tash looked at the seat Sorrow offered, but the combination of anger, adrenaline high and her unalleviated sexual tension meant there'd be no way she could sit still. Instead, she paced in front of the couch, flustered.
"I don't know... I guess I hadn't hunted for a while." She turned and paced back in front of Sorrow again. "Since I came to LA I'd been busy," turn and pace, "with other things." She gestured towards the ceiling, indicating the third floor. "And then," turn and pace, "I was busy getting to know Victor properly. Without," turn and pace, "the distraction of an apocalypse. I," turn and pace, "only hunted a handful of times during March."
She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, "Then," turn and pace, "there was that business at my birthday. I spent," turn and pace, "a couple of weeks just relishing life. Then I," turn and pace, "started hunting again a bit, but it was," turn and pace, "fine. It's just been the past couple of months that," turn and pace, "I've started to feel compelled to go out. And," she stopped again, looking embarrassed, "and yes, I enjoy coming home to Victor afterwards." She didn't even want to think about what she and Victor had done last night after they'd hunted together. And she had to admit, their lovemaking had been less like loving and more like rutting of late.
She looked at Sorrow again and shrugged, "So, tell me oh lore master, am I just a hunter on the verge of a burnout? Or do I have deep-rooted psychological problems?"
Sorrow closed his eyes and tilted his head. Tash watched as Sorrow's gift unfolded and she felt power encompass her for a moment, then as she caught a snatch of some half understood melody the power faded away.
Sorrow frowned. Tash's theme was more complex than he recalled but since he'd never scanned her in detail he couldn't be certain. "Honestly, Tash? I don't know - but something's not right. You were a pretty cold hunter when you worked with Matthias, but tonight..." Sorrow shook his head. "Could it be the birthday thing? It's closest in time and a couple of hundred years worth of memories has got to have some impact on your mental state."
Tash wondered if Jade were crazy enough to have a heater going. It seemed awfully warm in this room. Her agitation was growing. She could feel her palms sweating beneath the soft leather of her gloves.
"I don't know - I don't see how. I haven't even thought about those memories for a while now. They surfaced a bit at first, but now they're quiet." She shrugged, "If I think about them, I can 'remember' stuff from her life, but they don't just pop up any more. So, no, I don't think so..."
Truth to tell, she hadn't tried accessing any of the vodoun memories since she'd performed the ritual for the souls trapped in the Orbs of Thessela. There was too much unpleasantness in there, too much evil and murder, so she'd pushed it all far, far back.
She started pacing again, feeling like a trapped animal. All her instincts were screaming at her to flee - to get out of here. But a small, rational part of her brain maintained just enough control to keep her from bolting. She stopped her pacing in mid-stride and stared at Sorrow, her eyes narrowing as something he'd said finally registered. "What do you mean... when I worked with Matthias? I never hunted with him since coming here."
"The Society has a file. I looked you up when we first met." He said it calmly, matter-of-factly, as if it were of little importance. "A few years ago somebody was going to invite you in, but when it was realised Matthias was a Fae..." Sorrow shrugged again.
He realised Tash was looking for something to avoid talking about Ohenewaa; the anxiety he'd been sensing had dropped sharply when she changed the topic. *Maybe I should talk to Victor.*
Tash's anger flared again briefly. It subsided as she berated herself, *And if I had a file on Sorrow, would I have checked up on him? You betcha!*
Society... She had a feeling Sorrow had mentioned something in passing once. "You belong to one of the Hunter societies?" She shook her head, "I prefer freelance."
As she finished talking, she caught the edge of something from Sorrow. He shielded himself well, but his concern was strong. He was thinking about that stupid vodoun woman! Her fury, which had barely begun to subside, suddenly hit boiling point.
In two strides she was virtually on top of Sorrow. He caught her wrist as her blow descended. Tash struck out wildly, uncoordinated. Why didn't he see? "I told you, that bitch has nothing to do with this!" she snarled.
Sorrow stood as Tash flailed at him almost incoherently. He handled her quickly, blocked a couple of her blows then spun her around. He wrapped his arms around her, pinning her own arms and spoke forcefully into her ear, "Quietus."
Tash felt the red rage drain away as though Sorrow had opened some floodgates. She knew he'd cast a spell on her, and she tried to muster some anger - hell, some indignation would do - at that, but nothing. She felt calm, relaxed, at peace. And she wanted to be making love to Victor so badly it ached. As the fury faded her muscles relaxed and Sorrow was supporting her with his arms wrapped around her. Under different circumstances she might have thought that was a good place to be, but she retained enough of her self to know that she should go to Victor, not Sorrow.
Sorrow slowly released his hold, just supporting her shoulders as she adjusted her balance. She turned to him, "What did you do?" A part of her wanted to be mad at him, but she just didn't feel angry. She felt - quiet.
"Calming spell. It'll wear off in a couple of hours. It was that or grab hold and wait for you to calm down and, well, you'd have struggled... I don't want to wake Jade. The explanation would take far too long."
Sorrow locked his shields as tight as he could and tried desperately not to think about Ohenewaa.
Tash smiled at the thought of having to explain their seemingly compromising position to Jade. She didn't want to be smiling, but didn't seem to be able to help herself. Jade and Sorrow. *Hmm, wonder if he'll wake her up and make love to her when I go?*
She looked over her shoulder at the door, wondering what exactly Victor was doing right now. "I want to go now. But," she turned back to face Sorrow, "I won't forget any of this..."
"No doubt, but is it worse than you reading my mind without permission? Go make love to Victor, and make sure when you come over I don't need to use the spell again."
Her instinct was to protest. She could hardly avoid reading him when he was broadcasting. But all she did was smile. He'd said the magic word. Victor. Time to go wear off the residue from her battles tonight.
Sorrow watched Tash leave and sighed again. He got up and poured himself a small brandy. *Tash must be pretty sensitive to certain thoughts right now.* Sorrow needed to speak to Victor. She wasn't fine and he had no doubt of the cause.
Sorrow sat in the soft light sipping his drink for a time before going to bed. He carefully insinuated himself into Jade's bed and spooned against her back before gently drifting off to sleep.
Monday August 15th - Meet Bob Mitchell
Bob Mitchell was in a hurry. He had spilled coffee on his pants just as it was time to go to work, and had to run upstairs and change before leaving 5 minutes later than he usually did. He almost forgot to grab his briefcase on the way out the door, and that wouldn't do because it had the portfolios he had to have his secretary copy today for the presentation at 1 PM.
He jumped into his BMW and peeled out of the driveway only to collide with the neighbor's Suburban full of the carpool headed to school. Most modern vehicles have lots of safety features designed to save you in the case of collisions and unexpected losses of control. They all work together to save your life. But if you are in a hurry and do not have you seatbelt fastened, things can go wrong.
The neighbor was shaken, her neck hurt but she craned it around to check on the kids. Lots of startled looks, but no injuries it looked like. She jumped out, ran around behind her vehicle and was startled at the damage done to the Beemer. The trunk was caved in and the rear seat was folded over. Her bumper had shoved all the way back to the driver's seat. The airbags had deployed, and she could see Bob in the driver's seat.
She walked around the wrecked BMW and looked in the window. Bob's head was cracked open and he was lying face first on the deflating airbag. There wasn't any blood. The neighbor began to shake at the sight.
By the time her teenage daughter had called an ambulance on her cell phone, her mother was completely unconscious and in shock. When they arrived they found her and a waxy substance in Bob's car.
Bob they found a few hours later, tied up in his bedroom with novelty handcuffs. He was gagged and was missing the scar he had gotten in Vietnam and his toupee. But he was still alive.
He could not explain except to say that an intruder had mugged him last night. He never saw his face. The police decided to write it up as a prank by kids using a wax statue and leaving the parking brake off the car.
The neighbor would be in therapy for weeks, and Bob would find out later he still had the neurological damage from Agent Orange even though the scars had gone.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
***Monday, 15th August, 2005…11:42am***
"Bugger it!" Reah poked at the cut on the thigh of her jeans. It was getting bigger. At first she had just accepted it - it could be easily passed off as a fashion statement, but it was rapidly getting beyond that stage of ‘nice fashionable jeans she could wear out’ and reaching the stage ‘fantastic punk pants involving safety pins, chain and more slashes’ that she decided to inevitably make once she got some new pants to replace them. "I wish I could bloody resurrect that damn pin cushion so I could kill it AGAIN!"
Slinging her coat on she also noticed a couple of cuts and grazes on her right arm, "When the hell…" *Oh that’s right.* Her face relaxed when the remembrance of the cause of damage to her coat came crashing home. "Okay then. How many more clothes have I ruined now?" She came to the conclusion that more clothes were in demand here.
Picking up her keys, she thought hard to herself on which direction the shopping centres were in this city. In particular, one with a store that had sparked her interest when passing by once. She hadn’t realised how little shopping she’d done in her time since coming to L.A. till now. She had only concentrated on the main living essentials such as food, water and ammo.
Shrugging, she picked up her wallet and headed out to her bike to cruise around in hope of finding this lone store.
Some time later, Reah's cruising had eventually brought her into a shopping district. She still had no idea of many street names around here, and it was usually too late to check the signs when she finally remembered after taking the corners. As a result, she generally relied on her sense of direction when navigating her way around places.
She scanned along the multitude of stores that flew by, searching in particular for the skater store she'd passed once. A glimpse of a familiar back suddenly caught her eye up ahead strolling along and peering into the occasional window, paying special attention to an underwear display he was passing. Reah lit up inside at the sight of Sam, thoughts of new clothing need evaporating. She hadn't seen him in what seemed like forever.
Slowing up as she reached the kerb just behind him, Reah strolled her bike along before parking it and swinging her leg back off it.
Carefully she sneaked up onto the footpath behind Sam until she was nearly right on top of him, and whispered from behind just off his ear, "Have you missed me?"
Sam elbowed Reah in the gut and started running.
He’d done it without thinking. He stopped a second later, slowing and turning, realising what he had done. Tash, in her training sessions, had not only made him alert, she’d made him edgy. Paranoid. He saw that what had attacked him had not been a monster. *Oh boy.*
Reah doubled over at the unexpected attack, the air knocked suddenly out of her, "Ow! Nice to see you... too... Sam!" she managed under her breath between coughs.
She looked up in confused pain at Sam to notice him stop and turn around, cringing when he noticed her. She gave him a sarcastic thankful grin and rested back on the shop window behind her, clutching her stomach.
Sam's jaw dropped. "Reah, oh Reah, I’m so sorry!" He put her arm around his neck and lifted the girl while uncertainly rubbing her tummy. "I thought you were a…" A werewolf? A vampire? "A mugger," he said.
"A mugger?" She stared at Sam bewildered, "Tell me what you do with muggers that has them whispering, 'did you miss me' in your ear? And since when did you get all defensive?" She chuckled despite the pain and leaned on his support, still slightly doubled over. *I would have expected that force from a vampire, but Sam? Bloody hell!* "By the way, hi." She grinned evilly as she punched Sam in his side.
The punch brought tears to his eyes. "Ulk! Hi!" he said in a groan. He shrugged it off as best as he could, but she hit him pretty hard. Boy did Sam feel bad. "I’m sorry. Let me buy you some lunch, okay? Make friends?" He smiled crooked. She really did hit him hard.
Reah grinned genuinely and nodded in agreement, "Sure! I haven't seen you in aaaages. I've been wanting to catch up with you. Plus if you're paying...!" She straightened gingerly, shaking off Sam's unexpected blow. "I'll drive." She smiled broadly, nodding to her bike.
Sam climbed onto the bike and wrapped his arms around her waist. He asked her where his helmet was, but she only laughed and told him to hold on. He became afraid, hugged her tight, and they were off.
Within the hour they were sharing a table at Dopey’s Pub, a glittery college hang out where all the faces hovered over schoolbooks and foamy pitchers of beer, and learning was forbidden. The waiter stopped by and took their drink order. Sam ordered a cranberry juice. Reah ordered a lemonade. The waiter looked at them like they were foreigners, thanked them, and sauntered off to do his business.
Sam listened to the laughter and the clanging dishes around them. Finally he asked, "So how’s the living situation?"
Reah rolled her eyes at his question. "Oh yeah... that shit house motel! Bloody fantastic! I hope to have children there," she answered in extreme sarcasm, then turned her gaze back to Sam, "I'm lookin' to move out, have been for a while actually... if i can ever find a place." She sighed.
"How about you? Seen your girlfriend lately?" she said teasingly, nudging Sam under the table. Frankly she'd never met the girl he lived with, but from the tales she'd heard from Sam, she thought of her as a bitch.
The waiter returned with their drinks on a tray. *Gee, that was quick!* She watched him as he placed the drinks and left, admiring his retreating arse.
Sam followed her eyes - which ended in a sight he’d rather not have seen. Ashamedly, he buried his face in his glass. Reah was behaving like a wolf. He organised his thoughts. "I haven’t seen her in a long time," he said, "I think." He took another sip of his juice. "I just moved out, actually."
Reah's attention snapped back to Sam in a daze, "You did huh? What?" She sniffed and gathered herself before concentrating on his announcement, "Did you move out?"
"It’s a long story. Mostly my old living situation had... a dog problem. But that’s past news. My new place is really great. It’s located in the building I live in." He’d meant to say the building he worked in, of course, but he was sweating through this conversation, not sure about how much to reveal about L.A.’s night life. He wasn’t editing the words as they tumbled from his lips. His palms were sweating, even with a cold drink in his hand. "Which brings me to something else that’s been on my mind." He leaned close and tried to catch her eye. "It’s a two bedroom, Reah. I was thinking, well, that it would be cool if…" He suddenly felt like he was asking her to the high school prom. How stupid. But what if she said she didn’t want him for a room-mate? He’d feel bad.
The waiter showed up and said, "Ready to order?"
Reah barely noticed the waiter as she waited expectantly for Sam to finish what he was trying to say. A smile creeping onto her face, she chuckled, "Of course it'd be in the building you live in Sam," she chuckled more at the extreme redness building up on his face. He was fidgeting with a napkin, leaving little stressed out bits all over the table in front of him, "But what are you trying to..."
"Ahem!" The waiter cut in, tapping his note pad.
*Oh! Rudeness!* Reah stared at the waiter incredulously, "I'm talking here!" She gestured to Sam. He ducked his head apologetically and she rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll just have a basket of fries.... OH! With tomato sauce!" He looked at her quizzically. "Ketchup," she said blankly so he understood. "Sam?"
The waiter was an unwelcome presence, but Sam would just make him go away and finish his thought for Reah. Sam looked up at the fellow, composed himself, and replied, "Do you want to be my room-mate?"
How the heck did that just come out of his mouth! The waiter raised an eyebrow, and Sam shrank in his chair. How embarrassing. In utter defeat, he lifted his napkin to his head and wore it like a crown of shame, hoping that Reah would never have to see his stupid, stupid face again.
Reah couldn't help but stare at Sam in astonishment before bursting out laughing. She couldn't contain herself as tears flowed out the corners of her eyes. Everyone in the pub was staring in their direction. She tried to calm herself and lift her head up off the table to look incredulously at Sam, laughter still bubbling inside her.
Sam was still cringing and at her sudden laughter and had sunk much further into his chair than Reah had thought humanly possible, his face still hidden by the napkin. She gathered herself and reached across the table to pull his hands and napkin away from his face. Her mouth quivered on the verge of laughter, but she managed to control it, "Sam?" She began, "If this guy doesn't accept your offer," she chuckled, "I'd be more than happy to be your room mate." Her smile was splitting her face in two, and her sides were in stitches, but she glowed. Sam was like her best friend, and living with him would mean moving out of the motel.
"You would? Oh hey, that would be great!" Sam was thrilled now. "We could rent movies and make popcorn and - how do you feel about broccoli? - and, uh, we could share the chores like doing dishes and stuff…" He ran out of breath. He inhaled smiling happily, and he said, "Thanks, Reah," a twinkle in his watery blue eyes. "I really appreciate your friendship over these last few months."
The waiter was tapping his order pad.
Reah felt her own mouth go dry at Sam’s rush and tumble of words, and took a long sip of her lemonade through the straw provided. "Definitely!" she gasped. "Although I ain’t so sure about the broccoli," she added, grinning cheerfully over her straw, then winked. "But we can get it just for you." *Dishes and stuff? Sam you really are one of a kind!* she thought, smiling adoringly at him, *He’s like a hyped up kid on raspberry soft drink!*
The waiters tapping had continued while she was talking, becoming more blatant during a pause. "Oh bloody hell!" She slammed the bench, "Could you just do your job and WAIT!" Reah snapped suddenly at the his impatience. He froze, pen poised in the air in mid tap, a stricken look on his face as he shrunk under her glare. She held it for a few moments longer for good measure before calmly turning back to Sam who was looking ready to take back his offer, "Would you like anything Sam?" she asked with a quirked eyebrow and smile, "Or would you still just like him to be your room mate?" She chuckled.
Sam’s sense of humour was kicking in. "No, Reah, just you. Just you."
To the waiter he said, "Got anything with broccoli in it?"
Going Away
******Sunday, August 14th 2005 – Late Night******
“But I don’t understand? Why? I mean where? When will you be back?” Kate followed Galen around the bedroom as he hunted out various items of clothing. He picked up a shirt and stuffed it into his holdall. As he walked over to the dresser Kate retrieved the shirt, folded it properly and replaced it neatly in his bag. “Galen? Please, can’t you tell me anything?” she implored.
Galen sighed, wanting to tell Kate everything but knew he shouldn't. The people he worked for could only kill her once, but he could at least not provide them with another reason to do so. "I don't know when I'll be back," he finally said. She deserved more than this after how close they had become. "Some of my superiors have decided they want a formal inquiry about my arrest. I’ll be lucky to keep my job by the time this is over."
Kate frowned while perched on the edge of the bed. She hadn’t seen Galen all day, not since he’d left after Jess had arrived. She’d known something was wrong the moment he turned up on the doorstep that night, his bags in his hands. Galen returned from the bathroom, some bottles and a razor in his hands and then began to pack them into his bag along with his clothes. Kate just sat watching him. The last thing she wanted was to be sounding like the archetypal possessive girlfriend, but she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her.
As she idly fiddled with a sweater, folding and unfolding it, Kate tried to push away her doubts. She hated doubting Galen; she wanted to believe that he wouldn’t lie to her, although she knew he already had, probably many times. Mostly she was afraid. Some of the people he was working for sounded more than just dangerous; according to Galen they were willing to kill to conceal this project he was looking into. The thought of losing Galen terrified her.
Galen took the sweater from her hands and sat on the bed beside her. He could tell that Kate was worried about his imminent and sudden departure, despite her attempts at concealing it. Once Jess arrived and he returned home, finding the message that Majestic Command itself wanted to question him had come as a frightening surprise. He just sat for a moment before gently taking Kate's hand in his. Although he couldn't tell her the truth, at least he could try to comfort her some. "Kate, I promise to return as soon as I'm able," he said, leaning over and kissing her lightly on the cheek before glancing at the clock.
"There's nothing to worry about," he lied. There was actually plenty to worry about, but nothing he dared burden her with. Then he smiled and tried to make her feel better. "With a little luck, this will all be over in a few days."
Galen slipped his arms around Kate’s body and held her tightly, comfortingly. Kate rested her head against his shirt-covered shoulder. She could feel him sigh deeply, and his body trembled slightly beneath her embrace. Kate knew this was more serious than he was letting on. The fact that he felt he had to conceal the truth from her only made her feel more anxious. Galen kissed her bare shoulder softly and rested his lips against her cool flesh. After a long moment he carefully pulled away.
Galen couldn't contain his nervousness and began pacing back and forth some. When he realised what he was doing, he forced himself to stop. Checking the time once again, he looked towards Kate. "Okay. What are you worried about? You can tell me." *Please, don't open doors you'll regret going down later,* he thought, hoping that she was actually reading his surface thoughts this time.
“I’m worried that you’re playing this whole thing down just so that I won’t worry.” Kate saw Galen check the clock again. “I’m worried that you’re going to do something and…” she looked away, her face crumpled in conflicting emotion. She didn’t want to lay this on him, not like this, not when he was about to leave.
It was scary, having Kate know him so well. Her worry was finally enough to get him to not care about showing up on time. The chopper pilot could wait, and if he couldn't - well, Galen couldn't be blamed if he happened to encounter a bunch of demons on the way, could he? Galen walked over to Kate and crouched down in front of her. "That's a worry you don't need. Look, I have some time before my flight leaves. Tell me what I need to do in order to make you feel better."
Kate looked down at Galen sadly. She had so much bottled up inside her right now she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want him to leave, even if it was just for a few days. She felt so safe and protected when he was with her. After a moment she leaned down and slowly brushed her lips against his in a soft and tender kiss.
Galen reached up to brush aside Kate's hair and sighed again. He really didn't want to go, but when your orders to return were signed by Area 51's commanding officer, you went.
"Just promise me you'll be careful," Kate said eventually.
Nodding slightly, they shared one final kiss before Galen retrieved his bag while Kate walked with him to the door. Giving her a quick hug, Galen started towards his car. He had to leave now before it became too difficult.
An Empty Bed
Sunday, 14th August 2005 – 3:45am
Tash closed her apartment door behind her and sighed. Despite Sorrow’s spell her excitement levels hadn’t abated, but the sense of urgency had gone. She smiled to herself in the dark; she had a feeling that tonight she would truly make love to Victor for the first time in weeks, rather than just using him to fulfil a need.
She drifted through the darkened lounge room, wondering why she couldn’t hear him. *Maybe he’s meditating.* She frowned – she hadn’t seen him meditate for a while, now, though he’d moved that monstrous slab of stone into their bedroom. Her puzzlement increased as she moved up the hallway. She couldn’t so much as sense him. But he was always here for her when she came home.
She turned on the light when she reached the bedroom. No Victor. A page lying on her pillow caught her eye and she picked it up. As she read, she murmured portions of the note, “… going out… home by morning… love, V.” She sat on the bed and stared at the message. ‘Disappointed’ didn’t even begin to cover it, she felt. She thought she ought to feel like wadding up the paper and hurling it at a wall, but the urge just wasn’t there. Instead she placed it on the bedside table and shrugged, *Oh, well.*
Still, she couldn’t just go to sleep feeling like this, so she stood and padded to the bathroom. First she piled her weapons in the corner of the bathroom, then her clothes made a mound on the floor before she reached in and turned on the shower. She adjusted the water so it was merely tepid and stood under the cooling cascade. The water felt like needles hitting her skin and she felt goosebumps rising over her body.
No, it wasn’t enough… She snaked a hand down her form and leaned against the cool tiles of the shower stall. It wasn’t long before she shuddered and exhaled in sharp gasps. As her heart rate finally returned to normal after being elevated for so long she felt properly at peace. She turned up the heat a little in the shower and lathered herself, washing away the grime and sweat of her fighting.
Then for a long time she remained under the flow, letting the hot water wash over her, easing the aches and pains. And she thought about how she’d been feeling tonight. Without the anger clouding her thoughts she’d felt that calm detachment when she faced Sorrow again. And that coolness had let her determine that he wasn’t the threat, when moments before she wanted nothing more than to pound him to mush. She shook her head - that anger had been sneaking up on her for several weeks now, growing stronger. And the thrill of the kill. That was growing too.
“But how do I stop it?”
She turned off the taps and grabbed her towel, drying her hands first then carefully pulling on her gloves before finishing the job. She dumped the damp towel on top of the dirty clothes, leaving the mess behind. She had no answer for herself. And she wondered if maybe she were too afraid to look for one. Afraid she’d find there was no way to stop it.
But right now she was feeling tired. Hours of adrenaline rush were taking their toll, and her ribs and throat ached horrendously. She crawled under the sheets, hugged a pillow in Victor’s absence, and slowly drifted off to sleep.
Tash carefully fastened the robe around her shoulders. It rustled dryly about her when she moved. She raised her arms as she turned to face the terrified girl tied to a post before her. Tash felt the fear from the girl wash over her, and she rejoiced. That fear would help fuel the ritual. She had taken decades to unlock the secrets she had found, and this would be their first test. Youth and beauty could be, would be – should be – hers once more.
She opened her mouth, and the snake issued from it, stretching her lips wider and wider as its thick body pushed out of her. Marali was halfway out when it began to twine around Tash’s own body, constricting tightly about her. She tried to move her hands, to push the python away, but her arms were tightly bound to the post. She stared into Ohenewaa’s eyes. The old crone smiled evilly at her but spoke with her mother’s voice, “Why did you kill me, my darling Tash?”
Tash blinked. The snake bore the face of her brother, and before her now stood her mother, her bloody arms reaching out in supplication. “Why did you let this happen?” she repeated. Tash tried to speak, but the reptile’s grip around her throat was crushing and she could make no sound. She could only watch silently as blood ran down her mother’s neck, down her arms, and dripped off her fingers.
Victor’s voice sounded suddenly in her ear, “Let me take care of the snake, Tash.” A taloned claw reached past her from behind to grasp her brother’s throat. Tash wanted to cry out, to stop Victor, but the talons closed, severing the neck. The python’s body dropped to the ground, and Tash stared at her brother’s bloody face staring up at her. It winked.
“See? You can’t save everyone.” Sorrow stood in front of her, a stake protruding from his chest. He looked down at it. “You couldn’t save me, could you?”
In her bed, Tash twisted and moaned.
Season Two: Aug 6 2005 - Jan 6 2006
****Sunday 14 August 02 - Late night****
Once she had arrived at the airport Jess stood in the large crowd and waited for her brother to arrive. About 15 minutes later, Will came walking towards her, a teenage girl at his side. They were both struggling with bags so she went to meet them.
“Hey, Will!” Jessie reached up to hug her brother then offered to take a bag off the trolley which looked like it was about to lose the suitcases any minute. “You don’t travel light do you?”
“Hi!” Will grinned, “Most of it's Eleanor’s.”
Jess looked to the girl. She was tall with long brown hair, dressed in baggy black trousers, a black tank top and wore a black and white striped arm warmer over one arm. A strap over her shoulder was attached to a black fabric guitar case.
Jess smiled then put out her hand to shake. “You managed to get past customs with that?” she asked as she nodded towards the guitar case then looked to Eleanor “Hi, Eleanor. I’m Jessica, call me Jess or Jessie though if you want.”
“Ellie. I prefer Ellie.” she said, shaking Jess’ hand.
“Ellie. Sorry. Do you want any help with your bags? The car’s a bit of a walk.”
“Sure.” Ellie handed her rucksack and a suitcase to Jess and they began walking.
Once they were in the car on their way back to Jessica’s apartment Jess put the radio on and it came out with something she suspected was Britney Spears’ latest attempt at music.
“Can you put something else on, please?” Ellie asked.
“Sure, I’ll rid us of the wrath of Britney.” At this Jess turned the CD player on and filled the car with the sounds of a Chili Peppers album.
“So, Ellie, what do you like doing?”
“Guitar, skating and singing. I learnt to skate and play guitar when I was thirteen.”
“Sounds good. There’s a park with some skate ramps fairly near my apartment.”
“Cool! My old watcher hated me skating, and he didn’t like my music either. It kinda sucked.”
“I couldn’t imagine many of the older watchers liking the music of today,” Will added.
There was a long silence until Jess finally spoke, “Will, do you know anything about Coldlings?”
“I know of them, not much about them though. I didn’t think that many existed any more, they tend to keep to themselves or mingle with society well. Why?”
“I’ve just been doing a bit of research that’s all.”
“That why you wanted the book?”
“Well not really ju- it has about Coldlings?”
“Yep.”
“Cool.” Jess smiled
*****
“Ellie, your room’s over here,” Jess called as she carried some bags into a bedroom followed by an over excited dog that was running around her feet trying to trip her up. “Do you want a drink or anything?”
“Sure.”
“Just dump your stuff in here and I’ll show you around.”
“Will?” She stuck her head around the door to see her brother. “Want a drink?”
“Yeah, tea please.” Jess went into the kitchen followed by Will and made a pot of tea. “Will, I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the sofa; a place like this only has so many rooms. I filled the spare bedroom up with weapons and training stuff.”
“That’s okay. It’s pretty nice here.”
“Wait till I take you to Bob’s, the local demon haunt, and you’ll change your mind.” She smiled as she sipped at the tea.
“I mean the apartment.”
“Oh, well yeah.”
“Do you have any coffee or do you English just drink tea?” Ellie appeared in the doorway.
“Yep, I’ll make you some if you want?”
“Thanks.” Ellie turned and left the kitchen.
*****
Will and Jess sat in the sitting room catching up on news despite Will feeling like he was going to drop off any minute until they heard the loud sound of a guitar fill the room. “Okay, well this could be fun.” Jess got up and walked down the hall towards Ellie’s room and knocked on the door.
She stood there for several minutes before giving up and shouting for permission to enter. The sound stopped abruptly and Ellie opened the door. “Ellie, I don’t mind you playing your guitar, I mean you’re pretty good, but could you turn it down just a tiny bit please?”
“Uhuh.”
“Hey,” Jess managed to fit in before the door slammed closed. A second later it opened again. “If there’s anything you want just ask.”
“Sure.” The door closed and Jess walked back to the sofa and sat down.
“Do teens usually only use words of one syllable?” Just as she had finished this sentence they heard Nirvana’s 'Heart Shaped Box’ once again, only this time it was slightly quieter. Jess sighed but let Eleanor be.
Under Surveillance
******Monday August 15th 2005 - 7:30am******
Earnest James Kennedy re-adjusted his headset and took another bite out of his fried egg sandwich then balanced it back on top of the monitor. He leaned forward and turned the sound of the playback of yesterday’s baseball game down - the Anaheim Angels were losing anyway. They’d lost the last three games in a row. That Kevin Appier had cost him big time! Now he’d have to hand his latest paycheque over. He was never going to get out of this undercover gig; he needed the overtime too bad.
The door of the surveillance van slid open and Sebastian Phelps, a young man in his early twenties, climbed inside shutting the door behind him. He dropped a large carton of doughnuts on the counter and then picked up a headset similar to the one Earnest was wearing.
“Hey pal, how was the graveyard shift? Get any action?” he enquired cheerfully as he rolled up his seat and swung his feet onto the console. He grabbed a doughnut from the box and bit into it hard; a glob of custard landed on his shirt.
Ernie sighed and batted Seb’s feet off the console. “If you’re talking about sex then no.” Earnest watched his partner as he scraped the custard off his shirt and licked his fingers clean. “And I wouldn’t expect to be listening to any of that for a while if I were you,” he continued. “Griffin’s been recalled to A51.”
“OOOH! So the mothership is calling Griffin home. That means our Sabrina’s all alone.” He picked up his binoculars and pointed them towards the house, adjusting the sights. “Everything looks… oh wait, there she is…” Seb zoomed his binoculars in to focus on Kate as she walked down the porch steps and picked up the morning newspaper. She looked up and down the street a moment before returning into the house. “Good Lord, can you imagine waking up next to that honey every morning? That Griffin is one lucky dog.”
“Take your mind out of the gutter once in a while will you?” snapped Ernie as he began gathering his things together. “We’re here to make sure Griffin doesn’t start getting an attack of conscience, not to listen in on his sex life.”
“Hey, what can I say?” laughed Sebastian, “It’s a perk of the job.” He laughed out loud again, picking up the remainder of Ernie’s sandwich and shoving it in his mouth. Listening to Griffin and his girl having sex almost every morning and night was about the only perk in this otherwise dull as ditch water assignment.
Tossing the sandwich wrapper into the bin he sighed. If Griffin had gone it would be pretty quiet tonight. He’d probably listen to a few of the older recordings he thought, that should help alleviate the boredom. Ernie would say that was unprofessional, but frankly Seb couldn’t give a shit. He was only doing this undercover crap cause his girlfriend had kicked him out of his apartment and he had nowhere else to go.
“Yeah well, I didn’t join Majestic so I could spend all my time listening to the Director of Special Operations making time with some girl.” Ernie slung his overnight bag onto his shoulder. He swirled around the remaining dregs of his coffee and swallowed them down, throwing the empty Styrofoam cup in the bin after the sandwich wrapper. He needed to get a transfer. “I’m gonna head off now, the transcriptions are on the desk along with yesterday’s tapes. Enjoy. I’ll see you back here at zero seven hundred hours.” With that Ernie turned and walked out of the van, sliding the door shut behind him.
*Self-righteous prick,* thought Seb as his colleague left.
*Perverted kiss ass,* thought Ernie as he climbed in his car and drove off.
Sleepless in Nevada
***MONDAY 3:42am: AREA 51***
The helicopter ride was fortunately uneventful even if the boredom caused by the flight time could not be overcome while in transit. Still, there was an odd feeling of homecoming in returning to Area 51 after so long away. The only oddness came at the thought that it was not home. Not any more, at least. Galen would have preferred, if given the option, to remain in L.A. That seemed more like home to him now than a base in the middle of the desert. *Odd how much the right person can change a man,* he thought.
His assigned quarters were spartan, lacking in anything that could be called serious creature comforts. Luxury required space that was not available when this older part of the facility was built. There was a simple bed present, along with a desk, two lamps, and a chair. One was lead to suspect that a monk would decry the decadence of the room by the addition of a nightstand.
There was no doubt in Galen’s mind that by now the pool tournaments that usually got started in of the recreation center would be over. Even if it wasn’t, Galen was in no condition to join them, not as tired as he was. He tossed his bag on top of the desk, not noticing that he almost knocked over the lamp on it while climbing into bed. While rolling over, he instinctively lifted his arm, which only served to remind him of its emptiness.
Half an hour later, he found himself walking down the hall to the recreation center. Immediately upon entering, he noticed there was still a good number of people there. A small white pug with a little black suit top, white shirt, and black tie ran up to him, wagging its little tail. “Frank!” a familiar voice called. “Frank, get back here!” A young brunette woman with an athletic build came out of the crowd, her long hair in a ponytail. She picked up the little dog, then stared at Galen for a minute. “Griffin?”
Everyone in Majestic went by their codename, so Galen was not surprised to hear her call him by his own. Only when one got close to other agents would real names be used outside of a cover being called for, and then only in private. “Yes, it is. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Circe?” The woman nodded, pleased that he remembered her. “See they still have you taking care of our mascot.” She laughed, while Frank casually leaned his head back to lick her face. It was her idea to get the little Pug as soon as Men in Black II came out, and to name the pug after the one in the movie. Command only put up with it because the cute little guy improved morale.
“Yeah, well, you know the way Frank is,” she said, shifting the little pug in her arms. Despite the fact that they knew each other for a long while, there was something in her bearing that suggested she was a little uncomfortable. That was when Galen remembered he was an administrator now.
“If only you could see your aura, Griff, looking all beat up. Either you hate being a bureaucrat, or the ice king finally found someone else.”
Galen saw the surprised look on her face right after she said that and shook his head. Maybe fighting the insomnia by coming to the rec center wasn’t such a good idea after all. A couple of people passed out, and a rather imposing bearded gentleman started in. “Hey, Goethi!” Circe called out. “Look who’s back!”
Goethi was 6 feet tall and gave everyone who met him the idea that they had just run across a modern Viking wearing a suit. The man was known as one of the few practicing pagans in Majestic, and reputedly was the best party host as well. “Griffin!” he called, embracing the other man in a bear hug for a moment.
“You know something else?” said Circe teasingly, as Frank decided he wanted down in the way that dogs often do. She placed the pug on the floor, who began rolling on his back for more attention. “If his aura is any indication, he’s actually with another woman.”
Goethi let out a deep laugh and slapped Galen on the back. “This calls for a celebration! You, Circe, me – and, of course, we can’t forget Lucky and Jocasta. They should be back from New York by this afternoon.” Galen was about to protest when Goethi stopped him. “Don’t argue. We’re going to celebrate, even if I have to drag you here kicking and screaming. Remember, there is always time for beer.”
“Lucky is still alive?” Galen asked incredulously. Lucky wasn’t his codename, and nobody knew his codename anymore. They all called him Lucky for a simple reason. He had found a way to get shot on every single mission he had ever been on, and always survived with a minor injury.
“Lucky has enough fortune to survive the apocalypse.” Goethi stood between Galen and Circe, placing one arm around each of them. “Just think, the five of us, together again. Now, all we need is for him to tell us about this girl.”
“Oh, you should see his aura spike,” Circe said. Frank stopped rolling on his back now, and sat laying on his stomach, staring up at Circe. His head began moving back and forth various people as they spoke. “He’s definitely with someone else. I think we’re embarrassing the ice king – and you know you earned the nickname, what with your first few years here. Always rejecting any possible advance a woman made.”
Galen sighed. “Look, it wasn’t like that at all. It’s not my fault they assigned two nymphomaniacs to work with me.” That was something of an exaggerated defense, just as ice king was something of an exaggerated tease. Of course, it didn’t help that he foolishly went out with the woman who was known for sleeping around the office once and did nothing with her.
A wicked look suddenly came to Goethi’s eyes. “Actually, think I’ll try to reserve the rec center for this evening. Then we can have a real celebration.” Before Galen or Circe could object, Goethi left to do just that, knowing full well that word would spread and everyone who could would attend.
Circe turned back to Galen as Goethi went off. The two began to walk over to one of the tables, Circe noticing a slight limp in his leg. “What happened to you, Griffin? For that matter, why aren’t you asleep? Last time your aura showed you were that tired, you passed out on us.”
“Vampire attack,” Galen said, yawning and taking a seat. “As for the tired, well, it was a long flight, and can’t sleep at the moment.”
Circe smiled at him, spotting Goethi on the way back with drinks. They were always quick about reserving for him when it came to parties. No doubt within an hour or two, half the facility would know that one was planned, most of them not caring about the occasion. Goethi placed several tall mugs of beer on the table before sitting down. “It’s finished. At 2000 hours, I drink you under the table.”
“You get to try,” Galen joked back, knowing full well what would happen when Goethi’s party got started. The trio continued to chat and joke, Galen carefully sidestepping any question about Kate. “All right, that did it, I’m finally going to bed,” he said after half an hour and started back to his quarters.
“Remember, 2000 hours!” Goethi called after him.