*** March 1, 2007, around 2 am ***
*** Isla Nublada ***
Daye stood on the deck and gazed down at the dark blue waters below. She listened to the hushed conversation behind her between Inés and her boyfriend, Connor. Further back, near the rear of the boat, the mysterious man who’d contacted them and started them on this road stood, staring into the water as well. Daye wondered again just who exactly Ellis Longwood was, and why he had gotten involved in this. Daye thought about how hectic the last week had been after Inés contacted Alessa’s mind, and Ellis gave them the final link to the Council. That was what had brought them here in the first place, and with any luck this would be the last leg of their long journey.
Daye scanned the island that they were approaching, the boat enshrouded in mists. She shivered, quickly zipping up the light jacket she was wearing. It was cold and wet here on the water, and the island didn’t appear to be any more inviting.
“Alessa, if you’re out there,” Daye whispered into the wind, “just hold on. We’re coming for you.”
Inés was listening distractedly to Connor beside her; she wasn’t really paying attention to him. Her thoughts were recounting all that had happened in the last two days. From the moment Daye, Ellis and her had put two and two together and discovered where Alessa had been taken, everything had happened in a rush. Ellis had almost taken over the whole operation, hiring a plane and then this boat to take them to the island where she was sure Alessa was being held captive. He knew people in Colombia, he had said, and right now he was proving he did.
She leaned on Connor and wondered again at his reasons for helping too, but she was really grateful to him for offering his help as soon as he knew of Alessa’s kidnapping. His temper had clashed several times with Alessa’s friend, Ellis, but he was holding his own, and risking much. A jungle was no place for a vampire if day caught them ashore.
The sight in front of her was strangely familiar, although it felt as if she were seeing it from above, probably from a plane. She knew this image wasn’t hers, it was Alessa’s and it was so full of dread that Inés gritted her teeth. Since the moment she had first got in touch with her cousin the images she received kept becoming more blurry and distressful, a jungle and fear was all she could feel at the moment. The quality of her thoughts was deteriorating in a worrisome pace.
She shivered, not only from the cold, and she was grateful to feel Connor’s strong arm go around her shoulders. She gave another look at the misty island that was slowly getting nearer and nearer. She sighed; she just hoped they got to Alessa in time.
Ellis heard the demoness sigh and frowned. He was worried too. His associates in Colombia had sounded terribly scared at the sole mention of Isla Nublada. That was exactly the kind of stuff that enraged him, peaceful demons being terrified by humans. For some time he had received vague reports of experimentation linked to the Council; many demons had apparently been taken to a research facility of some kind in South America not to be seen again. But he hadn’t been able to discover where the facility was situated nor exactly what kind of ‘things’ were done in it.
However it wasn’t until he had talked to Danny and confirmed that Alessa had been taken by the Council and her cousin had called telling him that she knew Alessa was in Colombia, that he had made the link between Alessa and the research facility. His hand closed in a tight fist at the thought of her in that island.
Daye turned towards the others as the boat bumped against the shore. A small stretch of beach extended out from the edge of the jungle, and that was where their guide had brought them. From what Ellis had said, the man was very nervous about coming to Isla Nublada, but he couldn't resist the ridiculous amount of money Daye had offered.
Whatever had happened to Alessa, she knew that once again the Council was somehow involved and even though it didn't make any logical sense, she felt responsible. She just hoped that Alessa was going to be all right, and that whatever research was going on here was not as horrible as she was beginning to suspect.
“Well, we had better start looking," Daye said to Inés. "If we can find her before the sun comes up, that would probably be for the best. We don't know what kind of monitoring they have set up here. I'd rather get Alessa and just get out.”
“Yes, we'd better,” said Ellis and turned to look at Connor.
The vampire raised an eyebrow but understood the look quite well. This man knew about his nature, and for some reason hadn’t reacted to it. He turned to help Inés out of the boat, but smiled when he saw her jump lithely from the deck. Inés looked at home in this tropical setting.
The demoness walked a few steps towards the jungle and stood motionless for a moment, as if listening, but the rest knew she was trying to catch any hint of Alessa’s scent. She turned to them after a couple of minutes.
“I can't smell her, but Ellis said Alessa would be near a brook or stream, and I can smell water. Let’s follow that trail,” she said and started to walk towards the jungle line, the rest following right behind her.
Ellis nodded. He had received that inside information the night they were leaving for Colombia. He just hoped Alessa hadn’t done something stupid just when they were coming to get her. He turned to signal the guide to wait for them with the boat ready and then walked behind them.
James followed soon after Inés. He was carrying enough ammo to kill a hundred Watchers. He was angered because of what happened to Alessa and besides, he was warming towards Inés and he wanted to help her. It gave him a reason to function. As they got to the jungle, James hung his rifle from his side and took out a big machete to open a way through the thick bush, behind Inés. Somehow the demoness seemed to glide along the greenery, and did not need a path.
"Jungle imp," he said to himself but caught her smiling at him over her shoulder.
"You can’t imagine how much," she said, laughing, and changed before his eyes. The hairy, brown creature was much more secure and able in the tropical jungle.
Daye followed Inés and the others, feeling more than a little apprehensive. This island was shrouded in more than just natural mists. She could feel the prickle of strong magic on her skin, and she detected great suffering. Daye was not as sensitive as Kate, so she knew whatever was happening here was very, very bad. She shivered as they entered the dark, forbidding jungle, concentrating. She might need her magic at a moment's notice, and she wanted to make sure she wasn't slow on the uptake.
Daye walked with Ellis, her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness. She desperately wanted to cast a spell to create some light, but knew that would be foolish. Instead, she stayed close to Ellis.
"Sorry if I seem a bit forward," Daye whispered, huddling near him, "but I'm a bit... well, to quote the Americans, freaked out. This place is really creepy."
Ellis turned his eyes from the demoness figure, and smiled at the Watcher.
“No problem,” he said, adjusting his pace to hers. “I agree with you. There’s something evil in this island, even I can feel it.” He looked around, he wasn’t carrying a rifle like Connor, but his gun was secure under his arm, unlocked and ready. “And we should be prepared…” he stopped at Daye’s stare, “for anything that may happen.”
Daye understood. She didn’t say anything more until they came to the river. Inés stopped there and bent low to the ground, apparently trying to scent out Alessa.
The Verbati squatted near a tree with large plank buttress roots. The mattress of dead leaves, insects and dust, so natural to all jungles, was unnaturally matted and trampled, as if somebody or something had slept there and she could smell Alessa’s scent. It was faint, very faint, but it was hers. Inés’ heart skipped a beat; finally, proof of Alessa being in the damn island.
Then she frowned. She sensed another smell as well, some kind of animal, probably a big mammal, mingled with Alessa’s scent. She stood up and moved towards the source of the smell, up in the trees. With a mighty jump she reached the lower branches of the giant tree, clawing her way securely up she got to the core of the tree. There the smell of Alessa was stronger, but so was the smell of the animal. She looked around trying to focus on the smells, her huge paws touching and feeling the tree’s branches, finally finding what she was looking for. In her hand was a tuft of hair, the cinnamon color of Alessa’s Verbati fur.
Inés jumped down then, resuming her human form before touching the ground with the grace of a big cat.
“She was here,” she said. “But so was a big mammal, probably some kind of cat. Follow me,” she said and started to move again.
As she walked she tried to reconstruct Alessa’s steps. Suddenly they walked into a small clearing among the trees. Inés walked surely following her cousin’s scent. A few feet away she found the spotted carcass of a jaguar; she squatted again next to it and touched it with a stick. It wasn’t stiff yet.
She looked up to the others and smiled broadly. “This explains the fight traces I found. She killed it.” Then she looked at the dead cat again. “Bien hecho, chica.”
“And it sm- looks fresh too,” added James, cursing from almost giving himself away; although the man already knew he was a vampire he didn’t want to alert the Watcher about it. “She can't be too far. Let’s go on.”
He watched their surroundings carefully; the full moonlight giving enough light to see around, but not enough to be too clear. The clearing finished a hundred feet away and the thick bush started again. Strange sounds and odors were coming from it.
James remembered his times in the Royal Army. He had been in jungles before, as a soldier, Africa, India… you name it, every major British Colony, and he could move in a jungle too. He looked at the back of Inés, already starting to cross the empty spot, and smiled… Well, not as well as she did, but he could manage himself quite expertly. He gripped the machete again and prepared to continue cutting their path into it.
Inés hurried her step, she felt the scent get stronger and stronger, and they were close. She was nearly running, gliding and moving with expertise through the undergrowth of the jungle. She was talking as she moved.
“She’s hurt, the cat… the cat hurt her. I can smell her blood; it’s a richer trail, her blood.”
Ellis gritted his teeth as he started to follow the pair in front of them, taking Daye’s elbow when the woman staggered with a raised root. More and more worried, as he heard Inés talking absently to herself. He couldn’t imagine the ordeal Alessa had had to go through in this forlorn island, hurt and alone, not knowing if she would ever make it. Wondering if… Chance… would get to her. He cursed, such timing!
They entered the jungle and were enveloped by its green darkness again. The humans could barely see the path Connor was making, but the swoosh of his machete cutting left and right was clear enough to follow.
“Wow!” came Inés’ startled cry from the front and he ran to join the two, almost collapsing into the vampire who extended an arm backwards to stop them. He steadied himself and looked down.
They were standing on a ledge, the trees growing just to the border, its roots protruding from it like dark hands off a tomb. There was a long drop down to yet another ledge and then, far below to a stream that glittered silver in the moonlight. Inés was looking down, her face the picture of dismay.
“She’s down there,” she whispered. “She must have fallen.”
James’ arms enveloped her. “Don’t lose hope, Alessa is a tough woman.” He turned to Daye and Ellis. “Care to do a little alpinism?”
“You go on, we’ll follow. This can't be worse than climbing Mount Blanc,” answered Ellis, eyeing the pronounced drop.
James smirked and started to follow Inés who had already started to half slide, half jump down the slope, using rocks and roots as help. When they finally got to the bottom, Inés looked around again and a small cry she run towards a dark figure crumpled on the ground. It was Alessa.
The demoness was in her natural form, and looked battered, but they couldn’t see how much until they got to her. Her cinnamon fur was tangled and dirty, dried blood matted the fur of her left leg and Daye saw with horror that it was terribly jagged, as if she had been bitten by a huge sharp-toothed mouth. She also bore several cuts and bites, probably the result of her fight with the big cat.
“Oh, Alessa, ¿qué te pasó prima? What happened to you?” whispered Inés, kneeling beside her and taking the demoness’ head gently in her hands. Inés felt her eyes fill with tears watching the sorrowful state of her cousin. She looked up to see Daye in a state of distress similar to her own. The Watcher was on her knees too, and was moving her hands over Alessa’s body, a look of concentration in her face.
“She’s alive,” she finally said, “Barely. I can help her, heal her, but not here. I don’t dare to do magic here.” Daye looked around, as if expecting fiends to materialize around them any minute. She was sure there were magical wards on the island; any magic she could perform would be surely spotted.
“Let’s go. The sooner we get her to the boat the sooner you can start the mending magic,” said Ellis, then he looked down at Alessa again, doubt in his eyes. The demoness looked too heavy to carry easily, they should try to make some kind of… he was surprised when Inés, changing again into her Verbati form, lifted the big creature with ease. He grinned. *Never underestimate a good demon.*
The party slowly climbed up the ledge again, but once they did the rest of the way was uneventful and easier than before. Following Inés’ sense of direction they moved steadily towards the shore where the boat was waiting for them. A couple of hours later they were sailing off the shore and leaving Isla Nublada behind; starkly delineated against the full-moon sky.
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Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
11 March 2007
Alicia Wyldling’s
11:17pm
Alicia lay in bed trying to sleep when she heard it. At first the knocking on her door was a low sound, then it grew more insistent, more urgent. She’d started at first by pulling her pillow over her head to blot the sound out, then finally sighing and getting out of bed. She pulled on a robe over her nightgown to head to the door, yawning stiffly, and look out through the peephole.
Then she was opening the door, trying to wake up. “Kolya!” she said joyfully, noticing his rather jittery look. “Please, come in. What’s wrong?” she noted his rather dishevelled and worried look about him, as though he expected to cease to be in control of his actions at any moment.
“It’s, it’s nothing,” he started, before turning to embrace her. “Just… if I suddenly want to leave, don’t let me, ok?”
Alicia looked up at him, the worried look in his eyes. He was disturbed, and she noticed something else. His accent was creeping into his voice. That normally didn’t happen unless something had happened to disturb him. “All right, I won’t. Just tell me what’s wrong.”
Nikolai sighed. He had no idea how to put it, no idea even if she would object. Oh he didn’t think that she would, he had been surprisingly open with her about his past, about what he was. But she still worked for the Council, he knew that as she returned the same openness. “How well do you know Amanda, your boss?”
“Very well…” she started hesitantly, leading Nikolai to the living room and sitting down on the couch next to him. “I’ve worked with her for quite some time now. Why?”
“How about her opinions on demons?” Nikolai decided to avoid the question, at least for now. Trying to figure out just how concerned he should be over her, whether or not to even tell Alicia everything. “Does she agree with the Council?”
Alicia was surprised by he sudden question. More than anything else she was curious as to what exactly he was getting at. “Well she certainly allows for more grey area than many other members,” she said slowly. “Not an ‘all demons need to be destroyed type’ if that’s what you mean…”
“And you?”
“Kolya!” she shot out in shock. Just what was he trying to imply, she wondered. That she thought less of him for being part demon in some sense or other? Or that she loved him any less for this? “You know that I love you for who you are, not what you are…”
“I know,” he replied reaching up to gently touch the side of her face, feeling her panic decrease. Her affection for him was obvious, and at times he even wished that she shared his ability so that they could share their feelings with each other. “It’s just that… Amanda… she…”
“Kolya,” her voice grew firm as she tried to reassure him. *What the hell happened?* “It’s all right. Please, tell me, what happened.”
Nikolai knew how he felt now, how shocking it was. No man ever expected anything like that could happen to him. Mostly he felt powerless and guilty, he had wanted her. He couldn’t help but feel guilty because of that. “She…” he couldn’t help it, breaking down at last.
Alicia held him close, curious and concerned. She wanted to do something to help Nikolai, and was even more worried now. “Did something happen to Daye?” she asked when he seemed to recover.
Nikolai relaxed some, feeling Alicia’s arms around him. He didn’t want to move, wanted to just stay there forever but he had to be strong. With the thing he had tomorrow night he couldn’t afford to break down then. He had to heal now. “She tried,” he started then stopped. “She tried to rape me,” he croaked out.
“What?” Alicia stopped in shock, looking at Nikolai. He couldn’t be serious, she thought, but he looked serious about it. Nikolai believed it sincerely, but it just seemed so out of character for Daye to do. “How? When?”
“Just tonight,” he said distantly, giving in to the desire not to move at all. “It was magic. I was meeting with Damen when she enchanted me over to Bibliophile, she… she made me want her, just pure lust, but she screwed up the spell somehow and then she was just so indifferent…” Nikolai trailed off, burying his head in his hands.
*Oh god,* Alicia thought, holding him close to her. “Don’t worry, Kolya,” she said, holding him close to her. “I’m here for you, but… are you sure it was Daye?” It wasn’t that she doubted he believed that Daye did it, just that it was hard to believe that Daye was capable of this.
“Who else would it have been?” Nikolai asked quietly. “I should have known… should have seen she would do something like this. At Kate’s funeral she started coming on to me, and she didn’t seem concerned with ‘demon’ rights or anything like that, didn’t have a problem with what the Council did to Alessa…”
“Just relax, Kolya,” she said, holding him close. “We’ll find out what happened, ok?”
“Yeah,” he said, remaining still. He didn’t dare move out of fear that she would disappear, or that he would lose control again. “Alicia, just… don’t let me go.”
“I won’t,” she assured him, “I won’t.”
Regrets and Memories
***Sunday, 11 March 2007 – 11:52pm – Kate and Galen’s House***
Galen leaned back into the low seated chair with a sigh as he looked around the room. He’d locked himself in Emma’s nursery ever since Kate had walked out, and he had no intention of leaving until he’d sorted out the mess in his head.
The room was so pretty… he remembered when he and Kate had decorated it one hot day in early May – so hot that they’d had to keep the windows wide open while they worked. Galen closed his eyes tiredly as he thought of that day; Kate had been so heavily pregnant with Emma but had never looked more radiant to Galen. Like some earth goddess, her long red hair swept back underneath a paisley headscarf, splashes of paint on her face, those old denim overalls half falling off her shoulders, bulging at the waistline with the force of that beautiful, beautiful bump.
Galen remembered how he’d watched her as she stencilled rose coloured elephants and teddy bears on the already pale pink walls; barely able to stoop to pick up her brush she was so big! The afternoon sun blazing in through the open windows… she really HAD looked amazing that day…
Galen smiled contentedly as his eyes flickered in Kate’s direction again, distracting him once more from his seemingly impossible task of fixing the crib together. She had put her paints down and was frowning in contemplation at her handiwork. Galen couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at her fraught expression. “What is it?” he asked with amusement.
Kate sighed in discontent, the same frown curling up her lips at one corner. “I don’t know it just seems… I can’t say… maybe a bit too, too…”
“Pink?” ventured Galen with another grin.
“Hmmmm…” said Kate thoughtfully, “It IS pink but is it too pink? I don’t want to, you know, perpetuate a gender stereotype.”
Galen chuckled again, rising up from his place on the floor and dusting his hands down. “Well you’re the one who is so convinced this little one is a girl,” he said with a further laugh, wrapping his arms around Kate, his hands gently rubbing over her large womb.
Kate turned her head up slightly to look at him and smiled, “Do you have a problem with little Rosaline?”
“Oh no Kate!” said Galen firmly, “There is no way you’re calling a daughter of mine Rosaline, over my dead body!”
“Is that a fact?” grinned Kate playfully, “Well how about I just sit on you instead? In this state I’d flatten you.”
Galen laughed, rubbing his hands over her bump again. She really was big and he knew Kate was desperate for the baby to come even though they had another three weeks to wait. “Hmm, I think you’re beautiful…” he cooed, nuzzling the ticklish spot at the back of her neck and eliciting a girlish squeal from Kate as she half-heartedly protested, trying to escape his playful tormenting. “The bigger you get the more I love it,” he chuckled. “Means you can’t run very far without me catching you.”
“Oh! You’re mean,” Kate pouted petulantly, pretending to be hurt.
“Awww,” laughed Galen at the face she was pulling, “Come here, let me make it better…” Slowly he leaned in and lay a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.
“Ow!” yelped Kate suddenly, breaking the contact between them as she jumped suddenly.
“What? What happened?”
“She kicked me!” said Kate in surprise, rubbing at the tingly spot on her side.
A smile spread across Galen’s face again, “I don’t think it was personal honey,” he grinned, his hands joining Kate’s as they stroked across her bump again. “I think it was more like, ‘hey you two, quit that there’s a child present!’”
“Oh great!” Kate laughed, picking her paintbrush up and turning back to the half-stencilled outline of a giraffe. “She’s not even born and already we’re embarrassing her!”
Galen smiled to himself as the scene played through his mind like it had happened yesterday. That had been the moment when he’d realised just how much he was in love with Kate and how much he needed her in his life.
Two weeks later Emma had been born and he’d bought an engagement ring, keeping it in his pocket at all times – just waiting for that ‘perfect moment’ to ask her… to ask her to be his wife…
Galen tiredly glanced at his watch as the hands both aligned to herald the midnight hour.
Kate had been gone for several hours now and it was getting late, too late for her to be out on her own especially when she was so upset. The weather was dreadful too; heavy rain had been beating down against the windows nearly all night.
But what could he do? Go out there and search the streets of Los Angeles for her? Call all their friends in case she had shown up on someone’s doorstep? Then he would have to explain everything that had happened, why she had run out on him… why he was so worried that something bad might have happened to her…
Galen sighed, angry at his own cowardly indecision. If only he’d kept his goddamn mouth shut! How stupid was he anyway!? Thinking those things… blaming Kate for Emma’s death! All she had ever done was care for her, nurture her, love her… she’d even put her own life on hold, leaving her job at Bibliophile so that she could be a full-time mother to Emma.
Galen rose to his feet and walked over to the window, pulling back the flimsy white voiles. Rain still poured down the glass like veins, spidering across the dark window. *What kind of jerk am I?!* he thought angrily, beating his fist against the window frame. Accusing his wife of hurting their child, placing her in danger! When they virtually dedicated their lives to making sure that the world was a safer place to live in! GOD! He was a complete and total asshole!!
And now she’d left him, walked out, and she wasn’t well either – that was his fault, he knew it. She’d seemed fine before he started at her with his half-cocked accusations. She could be really ill… *Oh God!* he thought anxiously, gripping his forehead in despair, *What if something happens and I never get to tell her… oh God!*
He decided then and there that he’d make it up to her. He’d tell her everything, how he was feeling, what was bothering him everything. Then he’d grovel like never before!
Flowers!
Yeah he’d get her flowers! Great big bunches full of them! Wildflowers – those were her favourites, poppies and, and lavender… tulips… she loved tulips… and daises - the small ones that looked like tiny little balls of cotton.
He would cook too… make them a special meal with candles and expensive wine and soft music and everything! And he’d apologise, get down on his knees if he had to, anything to get her to forgive him… give him a second chance. She HAD to forgive him… she simply HAD to… he loved her after all, and she loved him. They could get through this he knew they could, if he showed her how much she mattered to him, how much he cared…
“Oh Kate…” he moaned futilely, his hand flat against the cold glass of the window, “…where are you?”
One Night Stand – Part Two: A Step Too Far
***Sunday, 11 March 2007 – 11:56pm - Nikolai’s Apartment***
"Let me get you another drink," said Damen as he handed Kate her glass and topped it back up. He watched her as she tipped the clear liquid down her throat before picking up his own glass and draining the contents. If things were going to continue like this he would need more supplies. He stumbled over to the drinks cabinet and withdrew another bottle, and as he refilled their glasses he forced himself to crack a slight smile. "I always say, the world looks rosiest through the bottom of a glass."
Kate laughed weakly through her tearful state, sipping at her drink this time; she already felt quite drunk - the room was starting to spin a little when she moved her head so quickly. Still, it had the desired effect of dulling the pain, making it seem bearable – even if only for a short while.
"You're so nice," she said, wiping back her tears.
"Well don't sound too surprised," smiled Damen, draining his glass for a fourth time and refilling it as quickly.
"Well, no, I didn't mean," Kate wrinkled her nose with an awkward smile. "I guess, I just didn't expect it, I mean the first time we met kind of left me with the impression that you were..." she frowned, trying to think of the right way to phrase it, "...an arsehole I think is the right word."
Damen laughed. "Yeah, well… you’d be amazed at how many people would agree with you."
He sighed, gulping down the last of his drink before watching Kate steadily sipping at hers. "I just wish there was something I could say to help,” he said gently, giving her knee another short squeeze, “Something I could do to make you feel better.” He was just glad this Galen guy wasn’t here right now, or else he might not be able to restrain himself. He certainly seemed like the kind of man who would benefit greatly from a good ass kicking.
Damen shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Maybe all you need to do is give your husband a few days to calm down. Stay out of his way, let him think about what he's done, then see if he's more reasonable." Thinking about what he’d just said, Damen could barely stop himself from laughing. His last long-term relationship was with a New York hooker named Minnie, and here he was dispatching advice to a married woman.
"Do you think so?" Kate looked up at Damen, her eyes slightly more hopeful though still clouded with doubt. "I don’t even know what I want any more… I mean, if he really believes what he said, what kind of future is there for us anyway?”
Damen smiled weakly as Kate emptied the contents of her glass and proceeded to refill it again with shaky hands. "I guess this is one of those ‘follow your heart’ moments – though I can’t say I’ve had much experience on that front. My relationships with women generally don’t last longer than breakfast.”
Kate laughed half-heartedly, taking a long drink of her fresh glassful. “I do love him, even if I don’t really like him all that much right now. Maybe you’re right… things have been very difficult lately. Maybe some time apart would do us good… put things into perspective like you said, make us see what we’re missing out on, what we’re giving up, throwing away-”
“Heh heh,” chuckled Damen at Kate’s drunken ramblings, “How about another refill?”
Kate smiled and held out her glass unsteadily as Damen filled it back up to the brim. She raised the glass to her lips again and forced the liquid down. It felt warm and comforting in her stomach and gave her more courage than she actually felt. "I hate all this,” she said tiredly, feeling dizzy and more than a little woozy, “I just wish I could make everything go away."
Damen reached for the bottle, pouring himself another glass. Maybe drinking your problems away wasn't a good idea, but he couldn’t think of a better one. Besides, it was helping her relax. "I know it hurts now, but you know what they say… ’after shaking hands with a Greek, count your fingers.’”
Kate nodded in agreement. “Wise words… who said that?”
“Oh I don’t know,” sighed Damen, leaning back in the sofa, “The Dukes of Hazzard, I think. Anyway…”
Kate giggled and lifted her glass to her lips, frowning at its unexpected emptiness. She leaned over Damen to reach the half-empty vodka bottle on the other side of the coffee table, crying out in surprise as she slipped and lost her balance, landing on top of Damen.
“Hey, take it easy there,” Damen warned as she all but fell into his lap, her outstretched hand missing the bottle completely. He took hold of her under her arms, wrapping his own around her as he pulled her upright again.
Meanwhile Kate continued to giggle uncontrollably, grabbing hold of Damen’s shirt to steady herself. “I think I’m just a little bit drunk,” she whispered in a conspiratorial fashion, her face barely inches from Damen’s as he continued to hold her close.
“I think that qualifies as a major understatement,” he chuckled, feeling her breasts pressing up snugly against his chest as she breathed heavily in an attempt to catch her breath. “You’re wasted… are you okay?”
Kate giggled again, nodding enthusiastically. She felt so hot and light-headed and the room kept on spinning in that irritating manner; if it wasn’t for Damen she knew she’d be flat on her face by now. She continued to laugh giddily as she separated herself from him and sat up straight. "I’m good,” she laughed, fanning herself with her hand before removing her jacket, "Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
“Yeah… you’re looking pretty hot,” Damen said then suddenly bowed his head in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Bad chat-up line huh?”
Kate smiled in amusement and laughed again, “I’ve heard worse, how about…” Kate tried to make her face appear serious as she leaned towards Damen, flicking her hair back in a mock gesture of seduction. “If I could rearrange the alphabet,” she said in a husky voice, “I’d put U and I together.” She tried to keep her face straight but it was impossible and soon they were both caught up in a fit of laughter.
“I have actually used that line!” laughed Damen, filling up both their glasses again, “Though for some reason, it wasn’t all that successful, I can’t imagine why.”
Kate giggled again, almost uncontrollably, “You know I had you all wrong…”
“No, no,” interrupted Damen drunkenly, “you’re right, I am an asshole.”
“No, Damen!” Kate laughed again, “I was wrong, I thought… I don’t know! I had you wrong, you are a… a… a…” she clicked her fingers repeatedly in frustration, trying to think of the right word. “Well, a human being at any rate… maybe a teeny weenie little rough around the edges, but that’s nice, you know? It has charm like one of those bracelet thingies.” She looked up at Damen, seeing a confused expression on his face. “Oh, you know what I mean!”
Damen laughed, taking the glass from Kate’s hands as she threatened to spill the contents. Okay, so she was far beyond drunk now, she was paralytic, and as amusing as that was he doubted Nikolai would see it that way when he got back. “Look, look,” he said insistently, taking the vodka bottle from her as she reached out for it again. “Why don’t I take you into Nik’s room and you can lie down for a while? Maybe sober up a bit before he gets here, hmm? You drunken little hussy!”
Kate giggled again, wrapping her arms around Damen’s neck for support as he helped her to her feet. She could barely stand her legs felt so wobbly, as though they were made of jelly; in fact she could hardly even focus. It was a strange feeling, kind of like trying to walk through water, disorientating and ungainly, the room swimming before her eyes. Just when she thought she had figured it out she lost her footing and lurched about madly until Damen took a stronger hold of her, a muscular arm snaking its way around her waist.
“You wouldn’t be trying to take advantage of me now would you?” Kate asked as he navigated her towards the bedroom. “Koyla has… told me about you…” she slurred her words slightly, hanging on to the man for dear life, “You have quite the reputation…”
Damen grinned, suddenly grabbing more firmly onto Kate’s hip as she almost fell again. “I think I need to get you into bed before you fall and hurt yourself!” he chuckled, helping her to stand straight as he pushed open the door to Nikolai’s bedroom and led Kate inside.
*There's no way she's gonna sober up tonight,* he thought with amusement, and Nik would understand if he just left her to sleep it off, in fact considering the circumstances it was probably better for all involved.
“Here we are milady,” he said playfully, lowering her onto the bed, “Last stop on the Damen Express, all passengers are reminded to please ensure that they have collected all their belongings before departing the vehicle.”
Kate giggled again, lying out on the comfortable bed, gratefully kicking off her wedge sandals and snuggling up against the freshly laundered sheets. “You’re funny…” she sighed regretfully, “Galen used to be funny… always making jokes…”
Damen sniffed at the mention of her husband and looked about the room, picking up one thing or another. Nik sure was fanatical about cleanliness, he thought to himself - the room looked practically unlived in. As Kate broke out in another fit of giggles he turned back to where she lay on the bed. He sat on the edge and looked down, she was a pretty girl; he couldn’t deny it even in her present drunk, sorrowful state.
“You are quite a babe you know?” he said contemplatively, twirling a lock of her long red hair around his index finger. “Your husband is a fool, if you were my wife… I’d never let you out of my bed…”
An amused smile crept across Kate’s face as she looked up at Damen, she’d never realised it before but he was actually quite handsome and he certainly had a direct quality that was mildly attractive. “So…” she said quietly, all humour gone from her voice, “now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?”
“I can think of a thing or two…” grinned Damen as he made himself more comfortable on the bed, unconsciously wetting his lips. He was contemplating how appropriate it might be to kiss her when Kate sighed.
“Hmmm, it’s so dark,” she said tiredly, staring up at the ceiling before closing her eyes momentarily. She opened them again as she felt Damen’s impatient hand push its way underneath her skirt and rub against the top of her thigh. “I like the dark, don’t you?”
Damen mumbled an incoherent response as he climbed onto the bed properly, his hands continuing to rub hungrily at her body, occasionally tugging at her clothing as though anxious to begin removing it.
Kate reached out and took hold of Damen’s face, cupping it between her two hands gently. “In the dark, people can be anything… anyone they want to be. Don’t you think so?”
Damen nodded though he’d barely registered what she’d said despite the fact that his eyes were completely focused on her lips. As she began to speak again he held his finger against those two soft, moist lips, forcing her into silence.
“No more talking,” he instructed her firmly, his eyes continuing to rake across her languid form. Suddenly he leaned in and pressed his lips hard against Kate’s. His warm mouth enveloping hers, firm and hot whilst his tongue fought its way into her mouth as they kissed. He pulled her up from the bed, sitting her on his lap, one hand holding her tightly while the other found its way back up her skirt, feeling the growing warmth between her thighs as she pressed herself against him. Suddenly he felt Kate pushing him back and he braced himself, half expecting a slap in the face at the very least.
“I’m… …sorry,” he said awkwardly, holding both his hands up in a gesture of honesty. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
Kate paused, her breath short and ragged after the surprise of the kiss and the unexpected touch of his hands. She could still feel Damen’s soft tongue probing her mouth, but what had been most surprising was how much she’d enjoyed it. So much so that after a brief pause she pulled him close again twisting his shirt in her hands and kissing him eagerly.
This time it was Damen’s turn to be surprised as Kate held on to him tightly, pressing her body against his as though her life depended upon him kissing her. It was so warm and dizzying and he could taste the vodka on her lips - strong and tangy against his tongue. His hand slowly worked its way under the thin lace fabric of her shirt where he gently groped at the soft, warm swelling of her breast through the silk of her camisole.
Suddenly he stopped again, feeling a flush of shame blush his face. “Wait,” he forced out, feeling like a fool for halting the moment when he knew it could go much further. She had already excited him into a state of arousal; the last thing he wanted was for this to stop but he felt like such a bastard, she was vulnerable and drunk, maybe she didn’t really want it. “Are you sure about this?” he asked reluctantly. “You’re pretty drunk…”
*Maybe not drunk enough…* Kate thought wearily as a pang of doubt fought its way into her mind. She looked at Damen breathlessly; it felt like such a long time since she’d been kissed like that, impatiently and desperately. Her head was still spinning a little from the drink and she had to grab hold of Damen’s broad shoulders to steady herself. Inside she felt sick and afraid at what had already happened between them, though the alcohol had taken the edge off that. She knew it was a bad idea but she couldn’t help but think of the way that embrace had made her feel – needed and wanted – not like the way Galen made her feel at all right now.
“You said you wanted to help me…” she said after a moment, running her hand lazily up Damen’s arm, she could feel his rippling muscles tense and relax as she did so. *My god he’s so strong…* “Help me to feel, Damen…” she asked wearily, “feel, something, anything except this… this pain.”
She leaned in close again, feeling his eager body press against her own; it felt so good that he needed her, that he wanted her – even if it was just for sex. It seemed like all she had felt for such a long time was anger and hurt and rejection. All she wanted was to feel something else for a change, something physical and primitive, something to stop the pain from consuming her entirely.
“Fuck me,” she whispered into his ear.
“Wha? Huh?” said Damen in shock at a girl like her using such a word; it felt good… dirty… it aroused a further stirring in his loins. Kate wasn’t the sort of girl a guy usually messed around with; it was one of the first things he’d realised about her. Of course it was also one of the things that was turning him on right now too. She was what the guys back home called a ‘good girl’, a ‘nice girl’, the kind you took home to meet your mother on a Sunday afternoon. The kind of girl you took to nice restaurants, museums, and opera – even though you couldn’t fucking stand it!
Kate withdrew and looked him in the eyes, “I want you to fuck me Damen,” she spoke breathlessly, her hands already pulling impatiently at the buttons on his shirt. If she was going to go through with this it had to be now without time to think, while she could just feel his warm body against her own, kissing and touching her in all the right places. Well maybe not all the right places - only Galen knew how to do that… *Oh god… this isn’t the time to think of Galen… not now…*
“Come on,” she murmured insistently, “What are you waiting for?”
Damen hesitated a few moments more before complying with her impatient request. He was a man after all, a man with needs, and Kate was a damn attractive woman. He wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this, especially when she was practically begging him to do her. Plus she was a Wiccan… all free love and the spirit of Mother Nature – he’d never made it with a witch before and he had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity at the prospect.
For a moment his mind thought of Reah, how he shouldn’t be doing this because of her, yet at the same time his hands explored this other woman’s body, his lips and tongue desperate to devour the sweetness of her. He quickly pushed the thought of Reah out of his mind, snuffing it like the flame of a candle. Besides, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.
“How do you want it?” he moaned hastily into Kate’s ear as he dragged her down on to the bed with him and began to kiss her, his hands roaming the heavenly curves of her body as he eased down her skirt and pushed her underwear to one side.
Kate ripped the rest of Damen’s shirt open and kissed his broad chest as she began to unzip his pants and pull them down. “I want it… hard,” she mumbled breathlessly as he sat up and pulled her back on to his lap while he unbuttoned her top, fingering her hard nipples as they poked through her camisole.
“I want it… rough,” she said again as he fumbled with the condom packet, tearing the foil wrapper open with his teeth. She carefully lifted Damen’s chin up so that she could look him in the eyes.
“Now,” she moaned quietly, “I want it now.”
Her last demand was spoken with some degree of urgency thought Damen as he quickly disposed of the condom packet and rolled her back down onto the bed again, loving the way her spread legs felt wrapped around his back. Kate gasped suddenly at that first stroke which brought tears to her eyes as she moaned and wrapped her arms around Damen’s neck, holding him close.
Kate closed her eyes, screwing them up tightly as Damen held her in an uncomfortable grip beneath his large hands, grunting and sweating with the force of his actions. His every thrust was hard and rough, causing Kate to gasp in pain.
Damen drew his hands down Kate’s body; smiling as another sharp cry escaped her lips, he was certainly enjoying being the dominant party in this arrangement. Not like Reah and her constant mood swings and bad temper, even if he did find her unpredictability quite, well…
*FUCK!* the thought suddenly in annoyance, *Why am I thinking about her again?*
With a sudden devilish grin he grabbed Kate’s arms and pinned them down either side of her, holding her firmly. If she wanted this rough he was going to make sure she got what she wanted – and enjoy every moment.
“Shame we ain’t got any handcuffs huh?” he panted, tightening his grip on her wrists.
Kate didn’t reply and Damen’s attention was soon drawn back to the task at hand as he felt Kate’s body tense up some. Kate arched her back against him, an uneasy moan escaping her lips and forcing her to screw up her eyes and dig her fingernails into the flesh of Damen’s hands as the first tremors of an orgasm took hold.
For a moment the outside world seemed to diminish slightly and all the pain and anxieties that had eaten Kate up inside for weeks subsided for a while. The rocking of the bed, the disquieting grunts and groans – all melted away into a minute of complete stillness and silence where the only thing Kate could hear, could feel was the heavy thumping of her heart.
Kate gave herself up to the absolute emptiness of that moment, bathing in the respite of feeling that it brought. Her entire body wound up tensely, desperate for that sensation to last; fearing the inevitable continuation of time and the renewed suffering that she would have to endure.
As the minutes moved on Kate became conscious once more of the world around her, of Damen’s impatient grunting as he hastened to his own moment of pure release, causing Nikolai’s bed to creek and groan under the strain. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, coolly observing the strained expression on Damen’s face as his features tightened, contorted into a mask of sensation somewhere between absolute pleasure and pain.
Kate felt his grip on her arms loosening, leaving red marks where his fingers had been. Next, his body slumped over hers, his breathing loud and rasping in her ear. He lay that way for a good fifteen minutes; Kate counted them off by the red glow of the alarm clock next to the bed, as she too remained still, trapped beneath his warm, masculine weight.
Then suddenly he was gone and Kate carefully burrowed herself beneath the bedsheets, tucking them under her chin as she listened to the sound of Damen’s bare feet padding across the floor to the bathroom. He seemed to be gone for ages while Kate quietly returned her attention to the alarm clock watching with a mixture of anxiety and trepidation, silently wondering if this was her cue to leave or not.
Then just as suddenly she heard him return, clearing his throat and sniffing a bit as he fumbled noisily in the drawer of the bedside table.
“Sorry about that babe,” he grinned lazily as he climbed in bed next to her, “Call of nature, but good news…” the smile on his face widened as he held up a small foil packet in jubilation. “Wanna go again?”
One Night Stand – Part Three: The Morning After
***Monday, 12 March - 7:24am - Nikolai’s Apartment***
The morning sun streamed in through the open curtains flooding the simple bedroom with brilliant sunshine. Kate rolled over sluggishly, still in a tangle of sweaty limbs and sticky bed sheets. She pushed her hair out of her face, her eyes squinting tiredly at the naked man snoring loudly at her side, his face half buried in the pillow. Kate groaned and held her head as the washed out aching pain of a hangover stabbed through the sides of her head.
*Oh my god… * she thought sickly, as a flood of memories returned, *What have I done?* She remembered going to Nikolai’s apartment and that Damen had been there. They’d drunk… a lot, and then…
“Oh god…” she moaned in regret, stealing a peek under the sheets to find herself completely naked. She held her head as the dizzy feeling increased. *Oh god, this just can't be happening!* she thought to herself dismally.
Damen rolled over in the bed as he felt the mattress rock slightly followed by some muttered groans. Hangovers were not something new for Damen Kirk and he always suffered them the same, the light hurting his eyes, the throbbing in his head. The way his mouth tasted like old, dried carpet. Damen moaned as he opened his eyes, holding up an arm to block out the light as he glanced at the woman lying next to him. Last night had been… he frowned momentarily as he fought to remember… last night had been pretty hot actually.
“Hmmm, I don’t know about you…” he chuckled slightly as he propped his head up on the pillow, “but if you still want to work out some of that frustration from last night, I’m up for it.”
Kate drew the bedsheet around her tightly as she scooted to the edge of the mattress and started gathering her clothes together. “I don’t think that would be a good idea actually,” she said firmly, picking up her skirt from where it had been discarded. This was all a nightmare, an absolute nightmare! Suddenly she noticed Damen watching her with a puzzled expression on his face. "Do you mind?" she said irritably, "Turn away or something, I'm trying to get dressed."
"Hey babe, it’s a bit late for the modesty act now you know?” Damen laughed, but averted his eyes nevertheless, “After what we did last night… jeez, I think some of that is actually illegal in several states…” He opened his eyes a peek just in time to catch sight of Kate bending over to pull on her skirt. He wet his lips hungrily; she had a ‘hot piece of ass’ - as his pals back home would say and a contemplative grin spread across his face as he added, “Not that I’m complaining.”
Kate rolled her eyes as she caught Damen leering at her half dressed body, “Yes well, last night… last night I was very drunk.”
Damen grinned and sat up straighter in bed, his eyes still raking over her. “Well just be glad I was here instead of Nik,” he said stretching out some, “I doubt he could have serviced your needs even half as good as I did.”
Kate picked up her shirt and shook it to straighten it out. “If Koyla had been here,” she corrected firmly, “none of this would have happened! Koyla is a gentleman, he would never have taken advantage like that!”
Damen laughed again, hugging the sheets around his naked body more tightly, “Then Nik would have missed out big time.”
****
Nikolai was just turning down the hallway to his apartment as he tried to sort out all the messed up crap in his head. He still could hardly believe what had happened the night before, and wondered how he would ever explain it. Alicia had been rather concerned when he went to leave her place the night before, asking if he really felt up to leaving. It took a lot of work to reassure her that he was feeling better now.
The key turned easily in the lock, shutting the door silently on his way in. Then he stopped partway. Several bottles of vodka were out on the table - empty bottles - and a jacket lay on the couch. Then it hit him. The feelings of remorse and regret were so powerful he felt them at the end of the hall, but here they were strongest. *Of course, it has to be the girl. Who wouldn't feel bad after screwing Trigger?*
****
“Nicely put, I know Fyarl Demons who are less uncouth than you Damen, and they mostly go about just smashing everything in sight,” Kate muttered as she finished fastening her shirt and opened the bedroom door… and then shut it. Abruptly. She pressed her back against it, her eyes wide in alarm.
“It's Nikolai,” she whispered, “he's in the kitchen.” She sighed and finished getting dressed, straightening out her clothes so that they didn't look like they'd been practically ripped off and spent the night on the floor. “He can't see me here it'll just be... he just can't okay?” She pointed frantically in the direction of the kitchen. “You have to go out there and create a diversion.”
Damen shrugged tiredly as he climbed out of bed and began looking for where his pants had landed. “Well I’m not sophisticated enough to lie to him, maybe you should get one of your Fyarl Demon friends to-”
As Damen leaned across her to open the door Kate stopped him. "Look Damen…” she began awkwardly, feeling a horrible sickness flood her stomach. “I’m… sorry, okay? I don’t want you to think that I do this all the time, I mean never, I’ve never done this before. I’m married, quite happily married most of the time. I mean even before I was married I never- it’s just not me.”
Damen shushed her quickly, his previous irritation melting away in the face of Kate’s genuine anguish. Damn his soft spot for a pretty face, he thought with an inward sigh. “It doesn’t matter, you were right, what happened last night… well it was just one of those things, two people, too much alcohol…”
Kate smiled appreciatively before looking down, “Think maybe you could put a pair of pants on or something?” she asked nervously, feeling more than a little uneasy at his bold nakedness.
Damen rolled his eyes as pulled on his pants and zipped them up. Sometimes women were more trouble than they were worth, he thought with annoyance. Sure, he’d always had a bit of a sore spot for the ladies, he didn’t mind listening to their problems, being a shoulder to cry on and he was more than happy to provide a little… relief if the occasion called for it. But the guilt? Regret? It was just too much hassle. After all, they’d had a one-night-stand; he wasn’t about to advertise it. Damn, if Reah found out he might just be lucky to get away with his balls intact!
Sometimes he wondered if he’d be better off using his ‘Uncle Bobby’s’ philosophy, he always told him, women were fine when they had their legs open and kept their mouths shut – anything else was just a waste of time. Of course two weeks later some jilted broad had shot him in the back with an air rifle.
“It’s not like I want to advertise this whole thing either y’know?” he mumbled as he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on over his head, mussing up his hair again in the process. “Pretty girl… wild night of sex… oh wait-”
Kate looked shocked. “You wouldn’t!”
Damen chuckled, “You know you were much more fun last night, less uptight too…” He sighed tiredly and held his hands up in surrender. “Look, I’m joking! I’m joking! Sheesh!”
“Sorry for not being in the mood for the comedy club routine but last night…” Kate sighed wearily, “Well, last night was a mistake. I can't afford for my husband to find out about this… I mean, not before I’ve had a chance to explain…”
“You’re planning on telling your husband?” asked Damen incredulously. “What the fuck for?”
“Well…” began Kate nervously, “I…”
“Hey, I think it’s great, really it is,” mocked Damen, “but if you take my advice, the whole honesty thing? Totally overrated. My philosophy is what you don’t know can’t hurt you.” At Kate’s worried expression he smiled gently. “Just look at it this way, if you tell him he’s gonna be upset right? And from the sound of it the two of you have enough problems going on without adding to them. Sure you could tell him and make yourself feel better, but what’s it gonna do for him except break his heart? Trust me, if you don’t wanna end up in the divorce courts you’ll keep your mouth shut.”
“But I can’t lie to him,” Kate frowned, feeling confused and frustrated, “We’ve been through all that before, it nearly tore us apart.”
Damen shrugged, “I guess you know him better than I do but I can’t see how telling him you bumped uglies with another guy is gonna help keep the two of you together. Look…” he said gently, “it was a drunken mistake on your part right? You were upset… needed comforting – things that your husband didn’t want to give you. Things just went… a bit too far that’s all. You didn’t mean for it to happen, it’s not like you planned it.”
He scratched the back of his neck lazily, “So why tell him? I’m not gonna say a word, so if you keep quiet… how’s he gonna know?”
Kate frowned again in concern. “It was a mistake…”
“There’s a good girl,” smiled Damen in relief, the last thing HE needed was this getting back to Reah. He knew she and Kate weren’t exactly the closest friends but they knew each other well enough for news of this to get back to Reah if Kate started looking to clear her conscience.
“I’ll go sort things out with Nik,” he glanced at the messed up bed, “I’ll tell him… I don't know, I'll say I picked up someone in a bar.”
Kate nodded her thanks before letting him push through the door.
“Ah, Trigger,” Nikolai's voice came drifting into the room as he emerged, sounding a bit more jovial than he really was after what happened the night before. “I trust you had a good time last night?”
“I got drunk, Kolya,” he returned, stumbling into the kitchen. He stopped for a minute to hold his head in pain. “Oh Jesus. Where's the aspirin?”
Nikolai gave that half-smile of his. Any doubts he had about what happened in general last night were gone. Trigger had brought a woman back to his apartment, slept with her, and now she was feeling bad about it - the guilt seemed to be blasting from the room still. “So I can see. Going to introduce me? It’s the least you could do considering you used my bed. You do know you have an apartment of your own don’t you?”
“Very funny, and it’s not possible, okay? She used one of those 'I have an early meeting' lines on me and left.” Trigger's head still swam, his cranium throbbing fiercely. “Now, about that aspirin...”
“Funny. I'd say from the amount of shame hanging around here, you earned the hangover,” Nikolai said without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. He even took a small amount of sadistic pleasure in it.
“Just what the fuck is your problem recently?” Damen snapped, raising his voice enough to increase his headache. Moving around to get a glass of water, he watched Nikolai turn away from the hall. Maybe, just maybe that would give Kate enough of a chance to get out. “You've been acting fucking weird lately, and I don't mean for normal people either.”
Kate had been watching the scene through the gap in the partially open door. As soon as she saw Nikolai turn away she made a dash for it. She'd got halfway to the front door when she remembered her jacket. It was no good, she couldn’t leave without it since it had her wallet and keys still in the pocket. She signalled to Damen who stood in the kitchen, watching the hallway. He waved his hand back at her, signalling for her to leave. Kate rolled her eyes and made a break for the sofa, grabbing her jacket and ducking down just in time before Nikolai turned back around.
Anxiety mixed in with worry. It was almost palpable. The amused smile on his face threw Trigger off guard. “Yes, well, you know the way things go. How one day you just suddenly wake up and realise that you've been going about things the wrong way.”
He could still hardly believe how he felt. After the time with Alicia, Nikolai had improved a great deal but for the moment he wanted to lash out, to do something to remind himself that he was in control and not Daye.
“It's everything,” Damen started. “Did I miss a fucking meeting or something? Long as I've known you, you've always been the type that was the more thoughtful hitman. You give thought to your targets; you're discriminating in your contracts, then all the sudden you tell me you're out. Hell, you can't even stake a fucking vampire anymore. Or eat well-done meat. I mean, what the fuck? You go through this merging process, start going all hippie flower power on me, and now all the sudden you're like this fucking used car salesman dipshit lawyer type.”
Nikolai was more amused than anything else, noticing Damen making some sort of gesture with his hand partway through and then try to disguise it as a yawn. There was a small jump in apprehension again that he noted. It meant that she was still there, almost home free but taking a chance. Nikolai started into the dining room area, across from the living room.
“But you forget one thing. I'm not the asshole here, you are. I'm not the one who has a woman radiating so much guilt here that it's going to hang in the background for a while.” Nikolai's smile twisted to become more sinister, hoping that she could overhear.
Nikolai turned towards the couch, feeling the fear. He walked over to it slowly, affording a glance behind there. It would be fun to see her face when...
“Kate?” he said in confusion, recognising the woman hiding on all fours behind the sofa.
“Nikolai!” said Kate in surprise, trying to hide her anxiety, “I, um, I never heard you arrive.” She quickly stood, straightening out her skirt. “I was just, um, looking for my contact lens.” She grimaced at her dismal attempt at lying.
Nikolai raised an eyebrow in amusement, turning to Damen who attempted to smile in a nonchalant, happy-go-lucky way.
“Yes, well,” Kate continued, “I just came round, this morning,” she said with emphasis towards Damen, “to, to um, to, to… see, how you are.” She playfully punched the side of his arm, “You! So… how, um, how are you Koyla? Everything, um, good?”
Nikolai idly wondered how stupid she thought he was. She was just too nervous to even attempt at lying, all that stuttering and stalling while she tried to think of what should have been a pretty simple explanation. Then there were the strong feelings of unease that radiated off her in waves, coupled with her dishevelled and unkempt appearance… well, it was easy to put two and two together.
“I’m just peachy,” he said with a grin, surprised at himself that he was taking a measure of enjoyment out of seeing Kate squirm. He let his eyes slowly move across her body, noticing her crumpled clothes, not to mention her rather tangled bed hair, then he glanced at Damen and his grin grew wider. *Must have been a wild night,* he chuckled to himself.
“Well…” said Kate uncomfortably, not liking the way Nikolai was looking at her; he just didn't seem to be himself he was acting all strange. “I really should be going-”
“But you just got here!” laughed Nikolai, grabbing hold of her arm as she tried to walk past him towards the door. “I only just got here myself, why don’t you stay for breakfast? I’m sure Damen would love to have you, wouldn’t you Damen?”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Damen muttered to Nikolai through gritted teeth. It was obvious he knew what had happened but it wasn’t like Nik to take such pleasure in a friend’s discomfort.
“What?” asked Nikolai uncaringly, “I only asked if Kate would like to share a meal with us, that is unless she has to get back to her husband. Kate?”
Kate could barely stop the blush of shame that spread over her face. “No, I mean, I’d love to of course but I can’t, I was just stopping by really but I have to go, now, really.”
“Well, that is a shame,” Nikolai said insincerely, escorting Kate towards the door. “But please, feel free to stop by whenever you feel like it. If I’m not here I’m sure Damen would love to entertain you again.”
Just before Kate reached the door, he spoke up again. “Send my regards to Galen,” he added, relishing the pang of distress. Part of him felt guilty, but another part took perverse pleasure in it. He was in control for once, reminding him that the choices were still ultimately his to make.
Kate closed the door to the apartment and quickly descended the stairs until she stood outside the building. Then she waited, resting her back against the wall and taking in several lungfuls of air in an attempt to allay her wracked nerves.
*Galen,* she thought miserably, holding her head against her hand in despair. If she had been looking for a way to make the situation between the two of them any worse then she’d surely surpassed herself.
If Galen found out about this he’d never forgive her.
The Truth Shall set you Free…
***Monday, 12 March 2007 - 8:44am – The Home of Kate and Galen***
The house had been empty when Kate had come home and for the first time she was thankful. She just couldn’t think what it would have been like if Galen had been there, if he’d seen her, talked to her while she still had that sour scent of another man’s sex imbedded in her. She shuddered now just thinking about it.
Kate let her dressing gown slip off her shoulders to the floor as she stepped under the hot water of the showerhead, letting the steaming water pound hard against her skin. She closed her eyes and tipped her head upwards allowing the water to stream over her face, mingling with her tears as she sobbed quietly.
Two weeks ago her daughter was alive, she had the perfect marriage, she’d been happier than ever before in her life. Now… she was childless, her husband hated her and she’d just committed adultery with a man she herself despised. Kate’s features crumpled up painfully as she remembered every filthy detail from the previous night. That’s how it made her feel… filthy, dirty… tainted.
She reached out to take the soap in her hands and rubbed it all over her body, the snowy white lather adorning her pale limbs like delicate lace. Kate leaned against the cold shower wall as she rubbed the bar of soap hard against her skin, wanting to wash away those dirty feelings, wash away how disgusting and guilty she felt. She scrubbed at her skin until it began to glow red under the hot water. The heat from the shower stung her sore flesh but she wouldn’t stop, not until she had cleaned every inch of her body.
Again Kate leaned against the wall of the shower, burying her face in her arms as she continued to cry her futile tears. *How could I have been so stupid?* she thought angrily, *Why didn’t I just go to Tash’s? Or Daye’s? If only I’d gone there… none of this would have happened! Why did I have to go see Nikolai?*
Kate beat her fist against the wall tiles, tattooing her self-recrimination into the unyielding surface. She’d never felt so worthless in all her life! A cheap and dirty affair… with Damen Kirk of all people! At the thought of the man Kate resumed her frantic scrubbing, lifting her soaking hair over her shoulder so that she could clean the back of her neck.
Ugh, how he’d kissed her! Touched her! And she’d wanted it - asked for it - using language she could barely think about without blushing. She was ashamed, so ashamed. How could she have debased herself like that? If it was the drink then she’d never drink again! Never! And she’d thought the worst thing was being so drunk that her friend had to practically carry her inside! If only!
*Oh God… oh God… oh god!* Kate sobbed desperately, soap running down her forehead and stinging her eyes. She didn’t even care, the pain felt good and it was only a portion of what she deserved.
She poured the shampoo onto her hair and scrubbed it hard, rubbing it into her scalp and the long lengths of her hair. Every second she wanted to throw up just to make sure the taste of him was completely purged from her body. Kate was hurting now, her body aching and sore both from her exhaustive cleaning and the rough sex she’d had the previous night.
That was another thing she was grateful for, the fact that she and Galen barely touched one another. He’d know something was wrong straight away if things were normal, the insides of her thighs and her wrists were already beginning to look bruised like she’d been in a struggle.
Kate started to cry again, slipping to the floor of the shower where she sat with the water swirling about her ankles as it rushed down the plug-hole. She didn’t even like sex like that! Galen was always so… so… gentle, so tender and loving. They made love, it, it was beautiful… wonderful… amazing… he made her feel so safe and cared for, like she was the only woman in the world. He was so attentive, attuned to her needs, knowing exactly where to touch her and doing it with such consideration and respect. Not like last night.
Kate wept some more, what would Galen do when he found out? He’d hate her even more surely, probably leave her forever. After the things he’d said last night… he already hated her, despised her… if he found out about this…
It would all be over.
Kate wiped at her eyes, forcing herself to stop crying. As much as she didn’t like to admit it, maybe Damen was right, maybe the best thing would be to just pretend like it hadn’t even happened. Of course now Nikolai knew too, or suspected that something had happened at the very least – but he didn’t have any reason to tell, did he?
The more Kate thought about it the more she began to convince herself that it could actually work. The only thing that would give herself away were the bruises, but even they could be disguised for a few days until they’d faded.
Kate rose to her feet and rinsed the last of the shampoo from her hair before she shut off the water and stepped out, her body dripping onto the tiled floor.
But could she really lie to him? After everything they’d been through with him keeping secrets about Majestic from her… the lies had almost ended their relationship before it had begun. Surely it would be better in the end if she was honest with him now rather than run the risk of him finding out later from someone else. Wasn’t it always the lies and the dishonesty that hurt more than the actual act of betrayal itself?
If she told him, confessed everything straight away and explained to him how it had happened, how she had been drunk, lonely, upset… he’d understand eventually wouldn’t he? He’d be upset, but in time he’d be able to find it somewhere in his heart to forgive her. Of course it would take a while for him to come to terms with what she’d done… but they loved one another. Wasn’t that love worth holding on to?
Kate picked up a fresh towel from a stack by the bath and before pulling her robe back on. She really did feel sick now and she crouched by the toilet as she suddenly vomited, feeling her body lurch forwards as the contents of her stomach were emptied into the bowl.
What if he didn’t forgive her? What if he couldn’t?
She could see him now, the disgust in his eyes… what he would think of her? She couldn’t bear for him to think of her like that, as the kind of woman who slept around. And he would leave her, she knew he would. Then she’d be all alone. Hadn’t she lost enough of the people she loved without losing Galen as well? She couldn’t bear that…
Slowly, she dragged herself up from the floor and made her way into the bedroom, flopping down on the clean, sweet smelling sheets. She buried her face in the soft pillows, curling up in a foetal position as she closed her eyes and let herself fall asleep.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, 11th March 2007 – 8:10pm
Wiping the sweat from her body with a towel, Tash finished putting away her gear and slung the towel over her arm as she left the training room. She’d need a shower, but first she thought she’d give Darian’s place one more try. She’d been knocking all afternoon on his door trying to catch him at home, but she supposed he was still out looking for Cole on his own.
On her way downstairs, she spied Reah just entering her apartment and vaulted the last few steps to reach the second floor landing.
“Hi, Reah.”
Reah turned, “Hey, Tash. How’s that bloke doing? Did he wake up?”
Tash made a face. “Well, he was a bit strange, actually. Said he was an angel,” she snorted. “But you know what? He was that guy who they reckoned did all those murders last Christmas Eve. You know, at that church?”
Reah looked thoughtful for a moment as she recalled the past events, then nodded, “I remember. I think it’s one of those things that no one is allowed to not know, you know?” She sniffed, “The media flashes it in your face so much.” She paused in her musing and considered Tash, “You don’t think he did it?”
“No, he said he didn’t kill them, and he wasn’t lying. He... he told me stuff about a prophecy and how the Will of God killed all those people, but that if he hadn’t been there trying to stop it only one man would have died. It’s odd, but just the kind of thing we come up against.” Tash shrugged. “Frankly, I was just happy to get him out of my apartment. He kept saying weird shit. Told me he was an angel, can you believe it?”
“The first time, no. But now that you mention it the second time...” Reah smiled back at her friend, resisting all urges to add ‘Grandma’ to the end of her sentence. Shrugging, she added instead, “Who knows, though? With all the other weird shit that goes on around here, angels would be a welcome change!”
Reah suddenly sniffed, “But fuck me dead if he was an angel.”
Shrugging again, Tash replied, “I dunno – his aura wasn’t anything particularly amazing. But I know he believed it. He’s either a nut case or an angel. But my money’s on nut case. Anyway, I’m off to see if Darian’s in... Oz – that’s the guy’s name – Oz described who attacked him and one of them may have been Cole.”
“Good news!” Reah’s face darkened slightly, “Just yet another excuse for me to pummel him.”
Tash chuckled lightly, at which Reah furrowed her brow in surprise. It wasn’t the reaction she expected from Tash after such a statement.
“I have an inkling what you were mad at Quin for last night,” Tash said by way of explanation. “Anyway, I’d better find Darian before it gets much later. See you around.”
Continuing on her way to the first floor, Tash passed apartment 100 and wondered how Tyler and his family were settling in; she’d not heard or seen them recently. Opposite them was apartment 103, the sounds of a TV show emanating faintly through the door. It housed the Lautari sisters and reminded Tash that there was still unfinished business with Morris to sort out, not to mention that she hadn’t been to see Alessa again since the day of the funeral. There was still a memorial for Chance to be arranged. Then, of course, opposite Darian’s apartment was the door to 106. Jeet was still in hospital, in his coma. She’d hardly got to know him very well, but their few sparring sessions together with sword had been highly instructive for Tash. She hadn’t been to visit his hospital bed for a while either.
Making a rueful face at her mounting obligations, Tash rapped sharply on Darian’s door.
The fae trudged to the door, yawning sleepily in the process. Drea had just left a few minutes ago and he was in serious need of a good night’s sleep, a luxury denied to him because of Cole’s disappearance.
“Oh hey Tash, come in, come in,” he said unenergetically, as he opened the door. Vigour suddenly coursed through his body as he noticed the gloomy air that Tash wore about her. *She has news, and it isn’t good.*
“Hey, Darian,” Tash responded. She made her way to his sofa but didn’t sit, instead leaning against the arm and gesturing for Darian to close the door.
When he joined her she began with no preamble. “I think I’ve found something out about Cole. Reah and I found a man last night while we were out hunting. He’d been pretty badly beaten up, and we brought him back here. This morning he described his attackers...”
She let her voice trail off, the conclusion to her sentence was obvious. And now wasn’t the time to tell Darian about the other things the guy had said.
Darian remained solemn for a moment, contemplating the information Tash had relayed. *Could he?* “Are you sure? There has got to be some sort of mistake,” he exclaimed, quickly trying to convince himself almost as much as he was her. “You know Cole almost as much as me, Tash. He has a temper now and then, but attacking a defenceless man? It… it’s just not in him.”
“I know, but... Well, Oz said that he found three kids defacing a church, and when he went to stop him they ganged up on him. He distinctly said one was a spellcaster, and the description matched Cole. The other two... I don’t know who they were. He said he thought one of the others might have been telekinetic. Darian, I know it’s hard to believe but it does sound like Cole.” Tash shrugged. Sure, the beating may have got a little out of hand, but to her it still sounded like teenage high spirits. Cole had been in trouble before – it wasn’t like it was his first time.
In the blink of an eye, Darian’s coat was back on, and he was headed out the door.
“Darian, wait! You’ll never find him like that,” Tash called futilely, but it was no use, Darian’s mind was set.
“If what you said is true, then the situation is a lot worse than I thought. I have to find him,” he called, not even turning to look back. “I can follow magic currents. It’s a long shot, but it’s the best chance I’ve got.”
Tash sighed heavily as Darian disappeared into the hallway and she heard the front door to the building slam. She wasn’t convinced of Darian’s ability to track Cole, and it was pointless trying to find him by simply running around the streets, she knew. But Darian was a big boy – he could make his own silly mistakes. *I’m sure Daye or Kate could use their magic to find him,* she thought. *I’ll suggest that to Darian when he comes back... No, I’ll leave him a note.*
She quickly found a notepad and pen, and scrawled a hasty note that she left on his coffee table.
When you don’t find
She looked at that and crossed it out, beginning again just underneath.
If you don’t find Cole, ask Kate or Daye to help.
T.
Shaking her head at his foolishness she closed Darian’s apartment door and returned upstairs.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 11th
9:30 pm
"What if they aren’t vampires?" Alessa hushed as she heard the anticipation in Ellis’ voice, trying in a last attempt to distract him from his course of action, not that it'd work. “Why would they have a gun if they were?”
Ellis quickly dismissed it, eyeing the men as they started down an abandoned side street. “Come on, of course they are vampires, I can tell. There's probably a nest there too. I hate getting to the party late.”
"Ellis you can't go around chasing people just for the hell of it," Alessa tried to reason with him. It was only a half-hearted attempt, and she was certain they were vampires by then, their reek was unmistakable. "Having a gun doesn't necessarily mean anything. Everybody has a gun. You probably have a gun." No response. She looked at him, not surprised to see the gleam of his revolver in his hand. “Not that it would help you.”
“Ha! Then you admit they are vampires, don’t you?” he smirked at her and started moving towards the creatures.
Alessa sighed and started to follow him. She wasn’t sure about this, she didn’t feel up to a fight yet, but she didn’t dare leave Ellis alone against a group of vamps. *A nest! Damn it!* she cursed and hurried her pace after his longer strides.
Ellis had come by in the evening, after a couple of days when they hadn't heard of him. Some sort of virus, he said, but dismissed it as nothing to worry about. Alessa was happy to see him, especially since he hadn’t showed up all motherhenly and all. He sounded more at ease, and Alessa found him distracted once and again during his visit. Finally he had proposed to get out and have something to eat, something she had quickly agreed upon. It would be her first time out of the house since they came back to LA.
Alessa was really regretting her decision by then; at first she had really enjoyed herself, but it hadn't lasted long. She was surprised to know about Roxana’s visit to his hotel room, and more so to know that Morris wanted him alive. She had blushed at the mention of Morris, remembering the kind of dreams she was having lately. Then Ellis had spotted the group of vampires through the restaurant’s window and dashed outside, leaving her to pay the check and hurry behind him.
And here she was, hunting vampires again. *Too soon.* She was honest enough to admit that. She was better, but not that better.
She kept on cursing while she followed him down the street, while far ahead the vampires continued walking heedlessly, not noticing their following them. Although irritated with him, Alessa had to grant that Ellis moved with the grace of an experienced hunter; he followed his prey without making almost a noise, and he knew how to become invisible.
She herself had already turned coal black in response to her surroundings and darkness, her stealth coming naturally to her, but she was feeling kind of short of breath and her legs felt shaky. She considered telling him about it, but dismissed the thought; the man seemed too driven to listen to her.
This wasn’t the Ellis she thought she knew. She looked at him again, admiring his form and the way his long legs seemed to shorten the distance between them and their prey. *Maybe I should be taller… longer legs probably need less fuel,* she thought foolishly, but tripped and fell when her legs suddenly lengthened a good twenty centimetres, unbalancing her in the process.
Ellis quickly turned to see what had happened and his eyes went rounder when he saw Alessa changing, although he was more concerned at the look of surprise and shock on her face. Eyeing the vampires a last time with regret, he sighed and knelt beside her.
“What happened?” he asked, feeling her legs and ankles to see if everything was all right, but finding nothing wrong with them. “What’s the problem?”
Alessa shoved his hands away. She was already losing her dark color and her legs quickly resumed their usual length. “Estoy bien. I’m all right,” she said, a little too briskly, blushing. She didn’t want to think how his hands felt on her legs.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so clumsy!” he snapped back. He quickly moved his hands away and raised them with a grand gesture.
“I’m not clumsy! You… tarado!” she snapped back, her quick temper of late flaring. “I just…” her irritation went away when she thought about what had happened, and her eyes showed uncertainty again. “… changed.”
Ellis frowned. “Isn’t that what you do? Change?”
“Not like this, I usually have to concentrate to morph. But now I just… I mean, I didn’t…”
She stopped, not able to express what had happened. She frowned, thinking hard about what she was thinking about just before her body changed on its own. She went on, not realizing she was thinking aloud. “I liked how your body moved… I thought you had long legs, and then I changed, just like that!”
Alessa raised her head, smiling brightly, happy to at least remember the reason for her body’s unusual reaction, but her smile froze in her face when she saw the expression in his eyes. He was just too close, and he was watching her with a hunger that shocked her. She couldn’t get her eyes of his piercing blue eyes, and she unconsciously moistened her lips.
“Ellis…” she breathed after some moments.
“Yes?” he asked, his voice caressing. He had trouble downing the rush of desire he felt when she spoke his name, her foreign accent making it sound exotic. He swallowed and leaned a little more over her, and relished at her shyly pushing back. *Coy, are we?* he thought.
“I think I can stand up now.”
“Sure,” he said, and his hand absently searched and found hers. With a fluid motion he impulsed himself backwards on his feet and stood up, getting her easily up too with the momentum of his movement.
As soon as she was standing, Alessa hurried to move out of his reach, although her hand tingled where he had gripped it, and she knew her breathlessness wasn’t due to the exercise now.
“Maybe we should get going? I don’t think we could find those vampires now, even if we tried,” she said, avoiding his continuous staring and pretending to look for any clues on the vampires, her earlier reserves about hunting gone by then. However she was glad she had an excuse for turning her face from his, because otherwise he may have noticed the mix of tangled emotions clearly written on hers.
“No, that’s probably true,” he answered, but she could tell he wasn’t concerned about his prey anymore. He surprised her by touching her hand again, and smiled at her jumping back. *I have time,* he thought. “Let’s go. Inés must be worried by now.”
Alessa only nodded and started to follow. She didn't want to admit anything more to Ellis than she already had. She looked down, concentrating on her walking feet, something, anything, besides the nice breadth of his shoulders and his masculine stance.
It wasn’t until much later, when she relived the events of the evening while warmly tucked in bed that she realized, without much guilt, that she hadn't thought of Chance a single time in all the evening.
A Little Dinner... A Little Music... A Little Apology
***Monday, 12 March 2007 – 7:10pm – The Home of Kate and Galen***
The kitchen was infused with busy activity as Galen furiously moved around setting the table, chopping vegetables, stirring up a pan-full of pasta…
He was determined to make amends for his behaviour during the past few weeks – especially last night. It was the very least that Kate deserved. He’d spent the morning talking through things with Anderson, convincing his partner to have a word with the chief and see if he couldn’t be put back on active duty, even if it was just trawling through some of the unsolved cases. He just needed to feel that he was getting things sorted out, getting his life back on track – one step at a time.
Then he’d gone out and bought lots of fresh fruit and vegetables in preparation for tonight, not to mention flowers. He smiled as he looked over at the table he’d set up, adorned with cherry pink tulips and bright red poppies. Everything was set.
Kate had been sleeping off her hangover when she was suddenly awoken by the sound of activity downstairs. She frowned as she descended the stairs, the rich aroma of spices and herbs wafting from the kitchen along with the faint, gentle strains of Elgar in the background. Warily she walked through the living room and stood in the doorway, watching Galen as he hurriedly ground pepper and tossed sea salt into a large bubbling pan.
“What’s going on?” she asked tentatively. It was as much a surprise for her to see Galen home at such an early hour, never mind happily cooking away in the kitchen. It was certainly a picture of happy domesticity she hadn’t expected to see for a long while.
Galen turned around in surprise but smiled as he saw her. “Dinner…” he said a little nervously, wiping his hands on the apron that was tied around his middle and smiling again gently. She looked so gorgeous standing in the doorway, her lithe frame swamped in the oversized shirt she was wearing. He’d always believed there was nothing sexier than a woman in a man’s shirt and Kate, well she always had a deliciously dishevelled look about her at the best of times.
“I just thought…” he began tensely, trying to take his mind off how good she looked. “Well, I thought a nice meal together might do us some good… give us time to talk, properly.” He glanced at her tired and worn out expression. “Are, are you okay?” he asked uncertainly.
“Y-yes, I’m fine,” stammered Kate, sensing his eyes on her. Unconsciously she smoothed out the cotton lounge pants and one of Galen's old shirts that she’d pulled on before coming downstairs.
“Do you think that’s such a good idea?” she asked with a slight frown. So far every ‘talk’ they’d had lately had ended in some form of argument. She really wasn’t in the mood for another argument. In fact she wasn’t in the mood for much of anything right now, she still felt sore and aching from her previous night’s activities, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a tiny ball and shut the rest of the world out.
“I was a jerk,” Galen said suddenly, “I should never have said what I did the other night… I didn’t even mean it…”
“You didn’t?” Kate couldn’t help but feel a stab of fear. She’d gone to Koyla’s last night because she’d been so upset at the things he’d said, because he had sounded so much like he meant it. It was the reason why he’d been avoiding her all week wasn’t it? Lying to her about where he was going, forcing her to seek comfort elsewhere.
She looked away desperately, closing her eyes tightly. No, if he hadn’t meant what he’d accused her of then… then she’d just committed adultery for no reason.
“Kate are you sure you’re okay?” Galen asked with concern, moving over to where she stood and placing a concerned hand on her shoulder. “Last night you-”
“-I’m fine,” Kate interrupted sharply, shrugging his hand away from her; she just couldn’t risk him touching her right now. Damn it, why did he have to have a change of heart now?
“Okay…” said Galen gently, he could tell that he was really going to have to beg for her to forgive him. He deserved it too, after what he’d said, how he’d been behaving… he was just glad that she’d come back home. “Look, why don’t you just come sit down? I… I made that tomato pasta thing that you love specially.”
“Wow,” said Kate as she stepped further into the kitchen, pans bubbled happily on the stove, emitting a delicious aroma. The table was laid out beautifully with the best china and crystal – even complete with candlelight. “This is…” she began, looking around, there were even flowers – tulips and poppies on the table – and soft violin music filtering around the room from the radio above the fridge.
“This is quite… a surprise…” admitted Kate with shock. *Oh Gaia, why couldn’t he had done this a few days ago when I needed him?* she thought dismally. “I’m not really dressed for this.”
“Rubbish,” said Galen with a warm smile as he pulled out a chair for her. “You look amazing. Here, let me pour you a glass of wine. Dinner will be ready in just a moment.”
Kate smiled weakly, sitting down and watching him pour her a glass of Chardonnay. She waited until he’d returned to the stove before she wrinkled her nose up at it, pushing the glass to one side. It would be a while before she could touch another drink again after last night.
“So… where did you stay last night?” Galen asked as he stirred the saucepans gently, though he’d meant it to sound casual his nervousness showed clearly in the hesitation of his words.
“Tash’s,” Kate blurted out before she’d even had a moment to think; inwardly she winced at her words. Now she was going to be dragging someone else into all this mess. *Why did you lie?* she asked herself dismally before looking up at Galen as he sat opposite her. The look in his eyes… his kind words… she couldn’t let all that slip from her grasp a second time.
“Ah,” Galen replied, not really sure why he’d asked apart from wanting to know that she’d been safe last night. So Tash knew about his being a jerk… well it wouldn’t come as such a surprise to her at least, she’d already guessed the truth at the funeral. This would just be confirmation of the fact.
“Well, here we go,” he said, happily changing the subject as he spooned out the rich pasta onto the two plates.
Kate smiled half-heartedly at the food in front of her. To be honest – which was being particularly difficult right now – she didn’t really feel all that hungry, her stomach was churning about ten to the dozen with a mixture of fear, guilt – and the remains of that hangover which had been pretty damn spectacular. It had to have been, to get her into bed with Damen Kirk.
“Well this looks just… lovely,” said Kate, trying hard to sound enthusiastic at Galen’s effort when really all she wanted to do was throw up again. She nudged some of the pasta onto her fork and forced herself to bring it to her mouth. It was delicious, as Galen’s cooking usually was, but still it stuck in her throat like cardboard and she had to chew it several times and take a large drink of water just to get it to go down.
Galen watched Kate’s act of forced politeness with regret. He could tell when things were preying on her mind, like now, and it was obvious that she was still really upset from everything that had happened last night. He felt like a complete bastard, the lowest of the low. “Look Kate…” he began, determined to make her realise just how repentant he was.
“Oh I love this piece,” interrupted Kate suddenly, turning her attention to the radio as Elgar’s ‘Chanson de Martin’ began to play. She looked a little embarrassed and forked some more of the pasta into her mouth during the awkward silence that followed. “It always reminds me of watching the Symphony Orchestra play in Covent Garden…”
Galen smiled and reached across the table to take her hand, gently rubbing her fingers in his own. “Maybe we’ll listen to them together one day…”
“Look Kate,” he said again, sensing her unease, “I want to apologise, really apologise. I was an idiot to say what I did to you, an absolute idiot… I love you. I was just angry and confused and I wanted to be able to blame someone for everything that happened…”
“It’s okay,” soothed Kate uneasily, barely able to look him in the eye.
“No it isn’t,” Galen insisted, taking hold of both her hands, “I hurt you, I was… I was a monster, consumed with rage and doubt and guilt… and that was my fault, I kept all that anger all that bitterness locked up inside when I should have been talking to you about it, when- Well when we should have been trying to help one another through our grief.”
“Really Galen…” said Kate meekly, feeling like such a fraud. Here he was taking all the blame for everything, blissfully unaware of what she’d done. “You don’t have to keep apologising.”
“But I do,” insisted Galen with desperation, “I’ve treated you so badly these past few weeks. You were right, I wanted to hurt you… I wanted to punish you because all I could see was you getting on with things, making it look easy and I could- I could barely function. That’s why I was so cold, so hurtful. The worst thing was I could see what I was doing to you, I could see how much I was hurting you by pushing you away. I just couldn’t stop myself.
“At the funeral, I should have been there for you. You looked so lost and hurt, I wanted to be there for you, I really did, I just didn’t know how. It just felt like so much had happened or, not happened between us. I felt like I’d missed my chance. But I love you Kate; I need you by my side more than anything, more than air, more than life… I need you.”
“Galen…” pleaded Kate painfully, pulling her hands out of his and tugging at the long sleeves of the shirt, desperate to make sure he couldn’t see the bruises on her wrists.
“Galen I need to tell you something-” she said desperately, feeling an aching pang deep in her heart. How could she carry on lying to him like this? It wasn’t fair! He was trying to make things up to her, apologise for his harsh words and she’d had sex with another man behind his back!
“Of course,” said Galen a little confused at the despondency in her tone, “What is it?”
Kate looked up into Galen’s eyes… his face was so concerned and gentle. She loved him. She wanted to be able to work through everything that had happened in the past few weeks. If he said that he didn’t mean the things he’d said the other night then… well, then she believed him. Of course everyone could say things in the heat of an argument and not mean it. Sometimes things just slipped out when backed into a corner, when you were hurting and trying not to let on, when you were vulnerable and not wanting to show it. By the gods she loved him so much, she couldn’t lose him now. Not when things were looking good, when they were being given another chance. She just- she couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t destroy everything that they had together.
Kate could feel her lower lip trembling with the force of the guilt that she felt. “I’m really glad that you came home early tonight,” she said finally, looking down contritely, her vision blurring some as she fought to hold back her tears.
Galen smiled, confused at her unwillingness to return his gaze. He guessed it would take some time before they were fully back on an even keel but at least it was a good start. “Me too,” he said warmly, reaching out and taking her hand again, squeezing it gently, “Me too.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***Sunday, Mar 11th, 2007 11:46am ***
Oz stood in the hallway of the building on Poplar Avenue and stared at the door for a long time. *Sorry, would you like to use the phone?* he imagined Tash sticking her head out of the door and asking. After ten minutes, he imagined punching her in the face after the word 'Sorry'. *Bitch,* he though darkly and walked out into the sunny day.
He strolled down the street for several blocks of residential housing. There wasn't a single payphone in sight. As he neared the traffic sounds of a major road, he began to get his hopes up. A commercial district would be just the ticket.
He limped stiffly into a small corner bar that was open for lunch. The bartender was a likeable looking fellow who was polishing glasses that weren't getting any cleaner. "Hey pal," Oz called to him, "Can I use your phone?"
The barkeep plunked a payphone on the counter and Oz patted his pockets. He pulled out the $50 and looked sheepish. He could have sworn that the barkeep salivated at the sight. The man opened an ancient cash register and pulled out two quarters and plunked them in the phone.
"Thanks, guy," said Oz.
"Don't thank me. It's an advance on the change from your beer."
"Do you know the phone number of a cab company? I need a lift."
"I know the price of that beer just went up by a buck," the bartender said sliding a dog-eared business card towards Oz.
Oz took the card and laid the $50 on the bar. *The cost of doing business in the city.* He dialed the number and called for a cab.
"Got anything to eat?" Oz asked. A voice in a booth mumbled something and there was laughter from that corner of the bar. "What did he say?" Oz asked.
Oz noted that the single crisp bill had been replaced with a small stack of coin and a bigger stack of singles. One of them slid off the top in a motion so smooth it didn't disturb the others. "He said 'food' just walked in."
The bartender leaned over the counter and waved a wooden stake at the corner booth, "I know how to use this thing, Kraytoth, don't make me spike your blood with Holy Water."
He turned back to Oz, "My name is Bob, by the way and don't sweat it. Kraytoth's just cranky 'cause the sewer exit is backed up and he has to spend the day in here. He won't bother you. Will he?"
Bob emphasized his point by lifting a jug of clear water and jiggling it towards the corner.
*** 1:22pm ***
When the cab beeped outside Oz snatched up his remaining bills and quickly counted them. There was enough for the fare, but not by much. He had learned the hard way to stop asking innocent questions. Oz had to admit that Bob had been fair though. He had returned the bill after Oz asked "What's the big idea?" and Oz was able to pretty much shoot down his information as totally inaccurate. And it was a rhetorical question on top of it.
Oz climbed in the back of an ancient cab and looked at a cab driver with more hair on his back than his head, "Where're you going?" the man asked.
Oz had to stop and think about that one, "How far can I get on $38.25?"
The driver pulled out a piece of paper and did some scribbling on it and said, "About twenty miles. Give or take environmental factors."
"Environmental factors?"
The man sighed and the springs of his seat made a see-saw sound that reminded Oz of a chuckle. "Sometimes," the man said rubbing his eyes, "The meter has a mind of its own."
Oz had nothing to lose, so he patted the seat gently and whispered, "Nice cab, I have got a long way to go today and might not have enough cash. It's all yours if I make it."
The engine of the cab purred, and the cabby rolled his eyes, "And you always complain I don't make enough money and you are going to pull shit like this!"
*** 2:13pm ***
Oz stood looking at the sign above the apartment parking area. TOW AWAY ZONE. There was a phone number which he dutifully took down. He shrugged his shoulders and got back in the cab. "They towed my car. I left it here before I went down there," he said, pointing over the embankment. "I could try running down there to take a look, but I doubt that I'll find it. I guess I should take it from here."
Oz looked at the meter which was stuck on $38.24 and had been there for the last five minutes. Al, the driver, watched it too. It clicked back to $38.23.
"Okay," said Al, "Seems you have some time left so away we go."
*** 3:48pm ***
Oz stood on the very edge of the churchyard and continued to search the ground around the tree from which he had been dangled. He managed to find his keys. But the wallet was long gone. He walked to the door of the church and looked inside. A few old ladies were cleaning up inside.
"Excuse me, did someone turn in a lost wallet?" he called into the church.
The ladies looked at him as if he had suddenly grown a second head. So he walked back to the Al and the cab. "No luck, huh?" Al asked.
Oz shook his head. He wasn't quite ready to cry but he was getting close. He knew that his luck was just not going to hold up. "Where to now, bub?" asked Al.
"Mulholland Drive. Ridgeway Apartments."
The meter clicked to $38.25 with a loud noise. Al glanced at it sideways. "Sorry guy, too far for charity. But it was a good run, don'tcha think?"
Oz gave up his money and watched the cab pull away. He strolled up the street until he reached the overpass where he had been dumped. *Full circle,* he thought. And he started to walk back to Nikolai's apartment.
*** 7:41pm ***
The police car pulled alongside Oz. *Oh this will be good,* he thought. The window rolled down smoothly and Oz could feel the warm air drifting out of the window warming his arms and legs that were getting chilled in the night air with too little covering.
"Going somewhere, dude?" the cop asked.
"Yes, I was mugged, my car was stolen, my ID was taken and I need to get home." *Not too far from the truth,* Oz thought. He had been walking for hours and his feet were sore inside his shoes.
The policeman asked one question that ruined it from then on, "What's your name pal?"
*Fuck,* thought Oz.
*** 9:22 pm ***
"Mr DeAngleo, could you repeat for the office how badly the perps kicked your sorry ass?"
"Mr DeAngelo we've located your car in a tow yard that is owned by a Mr. Frank Carvelli. His daughter went to Lilies-of-the-Field. Do you remember her, you murdering bastard?"
"Mr DeAngelo, I know you’ve given us your statement and have stated that you aren't going to press charges, but can you give us your statement again? I seem to have misplaced my last copy. From the beginning…"
Oz stood up sharply and stalked over to a corner. In a small voice filled with the frustration that was wearing his last nerve he asked, "Please, can you just take me home?"
"Mr DeAngelo, although it is a rarely enforced law, we have found you in the commission of a crime while on a conditional release. Vagrancy is still a crime in Los Angeles County, and we are investigating whether it is proper to hold you. Of course being a Sunday night, I am certain that the DA will be thrilled to have to come down here from his nice warm home and review your case, won't he?"
Oz turned around and looked the officer in the eye. He pointed to the rope burn on his neck and said, "Care to finish the job?"
"Gladly, but I don't get off shift until 11:00 pm," the cop said and left Oz alone in the interrogation room.
Oz looked at the spittle pool floating in his coffee and drank it anyway. James Anderson opened the door of the interrogation room. "It feels good to know that sometimes justice has a way of working all by itself."
"Good evening, Detective Anderson," Oz said. He held up the empty coffee cup, "Come to give me more?"
Anderson slammed his hands down flat on the table and leaned down to face Oz nose to nose, "No you hippy-shit. I am here to tell you that if the vengeance of the Lord took those people then I must be the vengeance of Satan come for your ass. I will see you fried, hung, drawn and quartered. I will make sure they reinstate the death penalty in California just so I can usher you to Hell myself. Are you clear on why I am here?"
"Crystal, Detective Anderson. Can I go home now?"
"It would seem that the District Attorney of the County of Los Angeles has seen fit to release you on your own recognizance. He says that he is satisfied that your statement of a crime is valid and that the perpetrators are to be apprehended and punished to the full extent of the law. But know this, Jesus freak, I will be watching you. If you so much as pick your nose in public I will slap a littering fine on you so fast you will feel it in the tips of your wings."
"Can I get a lift?"
"No fuckin' way. Fly angel, this is the Los Angeles County Police, not a cab company."
Oz glared at the cop and stood defiantly. He marched out to the front of the building, pausing only long enough to recover his key-ring and his shoes. Once outside, Anderson watched him from the doorway. Oz looked back over his shoulder and seeing that Anderson was his only witness, he unfurled his firey wings and took to the skies.
Anderson dropped his folder and coffee and stared agape as Oz soared into the night sky.
He could never explain it to his friends, but he remembered from Catholic School. Lucifer was an angel once. He knew that Oz was guilty now. He had proved it just to him. It was James' divine calling to prove it to the Law.
*** 10:54 pm ***
Oz was back to walking. When the rain started he had to land because he could no longer see the roads. He was soaked to the skin and his loaner sweatpants weighed even more than they had dry. He had considered dropping them, but he was afraid that the instant he did, he'd be picked up on an indecent exposure charge.
He knew it was another two hour walk at least to Nikolai's so he trudged on. The rain was getting heavy and the going slow, but he would endure it. He had nowhere else to go.
*** Monday March 12, 1:15am ***
Oz punched in the code for the front door of the building. He walked up to Nikolai's apartment. He knocked hard and hoped that Nikolai was not too deeply asleep. He hoped that he would let him back in. He could use a shower and a change of clothing.
Oz pressed his ear to the door. He could hear voices… moans… inside. *There is sex,* his mind said to him, putting the sounds into context. Oz slumped on the floor. *Where do you go when you can't get to the 'only place you have to go'?*
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, 12th March 2007 - 1:28pm
White gravel sprayed from beneath Tash’s tyres as she rode her bike up the driveway to the Watchers’ Council’s new LA headquarters. She’d watched with interest as the gates had slowly opened after she’d identified herself through the intercom, and she had to shake her head at the mind-set that insisted on showy, impressive exteriors. She thought about Poplar Avenue, and knew that with the money from the Foundation they could set the White Hats up in something as equally ostentatious as this place, but why bother? The money was better used for weapons, research, training, and emergency needs.
The house, when she finally rounded the curve and could see it, was vast. Its gleaming white walls reflected the sun in an almost blinding glare, the perfectly manicured lawns leading right up to the columned double doors. Leaning her bike irreverently against one of the columns Tash ascended the steps, only to be greeted before she had a chance to press the bell.
A demonic servitor led her through a hallway filled with portraits, busts and gilt-framed mirrors, her booted feet treading on plush wine-red Persian carpet. Passing several closed doors the servitor ushered Tash into a room, bowing as he backed away and closed the door behind her. Half-laughing to herself, Tash performed a slow three-sixty around the empty room, noting the velvet-covered overstuffed armchairs, the rich wood of the coffee table and the large marble fireplace that dominated the far wall. A grand piano nestled in one corner of the room, and sunlight streamed through the windows framed by heavy velvet drapes. Bookcases lined one wall and Tash ran her finger along the spines of the leather-bound volumes, turning her head only when she heard the gentle click of the door opening again.
Lord Ambrose Delancre entered the sitting room and paused, momentarily studying the woman already standing within. Natasha Brookes was exactly what he’d expected, common and coarse. However, her power in this city was unquestionable. Delancre knew that the best thing for both himself and the Council would be to win the young woman’s trust and, hopefully, co-operation. She had no prior knowledge of him, other than what she might have learned from Daye about their shared past, so he could very well be starting off on even footing here. If that was the case, then he had to be very, very careful about what he said and did next.
Displaying a smile full of charm and welcome, Delancre crossed the room and approached Tash, hand extended. “Miss Brookes, it’s wonderful to finally make your acquaintance,” he said smoothly. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me today.”
Tash shook the proffered hand and smiled politely, “Hi, Mr... sorry, Lord Delancre,” she said, trying not to roll her eyes at the honorific. *Damn English and their stupid titles.* “Daye told me you wanted to meet me, and I figured why not? We both serve the same ends, after all.” She let go of his hand and gestured around the room, remarking off-handedly, “Nice place you have here.”
Ambrose glanced around, as if noticing for the first time the elegantly equipped room. “Thank you,” his tone was indulgent. “I’m afraid it’s a bit ostentatious. The Council seems to think that everything has to be a statement. I would have been perfectly content with an apartment in the city, but...”
Delancre stepped around Tash and settled into one of the armchairs, gesturing for her to do the same. “Please, Miss Brookes, make yourself comfortable, or as comfortable as you can be in this place. Would you like some tea, or perhaps something cool to drink after your ride?”
Settling into the other armchair, which was surprisingly comfortable despite its lumpy appearance, Tash flirted briefly with the idea of asking Delancre for a beer – she suspected he wouldn’t have the ingredients for a margarita. But she just shook her head. “No, I’m fine thanks,” she replied.
Leaning forward she clasped her gloved hands together and fixed the leader of the Watchers with a steady gaze. “Before we get going, though, I’d like to clear something up. One of my friends recently had a... an unfortunate experience near Colombia, and it seems the island belongs to the Council. I was just wondering if you could cast some light on that.” Her smile stayed sweet, but her eyes were hard as she surveyed his aura for any hint of untruth.
Delancre was not surprised that Natasha would take this tack to start with. He had expected it, and knowing her abilities as he did, he was well prepared. There was no cause for concern. Alessa Hunt had been a guest at Isla Nublada, but he had not been the one to capture her, and truth be told, only his intervention had saved her from the army or servitude.
He looked remorseful as he began to speak. “Yes, I have heard something of this incident from Amanda already,” he said. “As I told her, there are rogue elements in the organisation, people I have no control over. I’m sure you can understand how that might be in a group as large as mine. It troubles me greatly, but I have yet to find the means to curb all their activities.”
Delancre leaned forward in his chair, looking for all the world like a parent discussing his troubled child. “I am truly sorry for any difficulties the Council may have caused you in the past, Miss Brookes,” he said sincerely. “I have high hopes we might manage to get past all that and work co-operatively in the city. I know this has been your territory for some time, but I would like very much to offer an alliance between the Council and the White Hats. One that would be beneficial to us all.”
Tash nodded to herself, it was much as she’s surmised herself. Renegades within the Council. There was nothing in Delancre’s demeanour or aura to suggest that what he said was anything other than the truth. “I suspected as much,” she said, “and if you need any help in flushing out those elements I’d be happy to lend a hand, but I imagine you’ll probably want to deal with that matter internally.”
She found herself, if not liking him, at least respecting this man. Delancre was considerably younger than she expected, having built up an image in her mind of a wizened old greybeard in charge of an institution as long-lived as the Watchers. But for all his relative youth, he seemed to be the sort who could be trusted to be a fair and strong leader. Her smile became more open, less guarded, as she considered Delancre’s offer.
“So,” she said, “what sort of alliance were you considering? Our group is small, but highly resourceful and between us we have a surprising degree of experience. But I’m sure you already know quite a bit about us. We’ve also been in this area for a while now, during some of its more turbulent upheavals. And I know you have a small presence here in the form of Mrs Wyldling, Miss Blaise and Miss Travers, but now that the Slayer is no longer in LA I’m curious as to why you’ve come here.”
Delancre considered her words for a moment. “Well, the truth is, there are some indications that trouble is brewing in this city, and I no longer feel the limited role we’ve played is sufficient. Among other things, some of the Council’s best prophecy scholars are insistent that very soon events will come to a head here in this part of the world. I’m sure you are aware that Los Angeles is haven to many, many different factions in the ongoing struggle for power. The Council, and myself in particular, feel the time may have finally come to take an active role in defending ourselves – and by that I mean mankind of course – from those forces that hope to subjugate us.”
Delancre paused. When he continued, there was no mistaking the passion he held for his subject. “These times call for strong leadership. We must insure that humanity does not fall prey to a lesser race, that our world is not trampled underneath the boot heels of oppressors. You, dear girl, are a warrior. Surely, you understand my meaning.”
The grin Tash flashed him was almost feral. “Oh yes. My personal mission in life is to rid the world of vampires entirely. It’s a silly girl’s daydream when you’ve only got yourself and one sharp piece of wood to achieve that. But the last two years have given me resources I never thought I’d have, and the idea doesn’t seem so far-fetched any more.”
She leaned forward as well, unconsciously mimicking Delancre’s eager pose. “And there are other forces that crop up from time to time. I suppose you know the Order of Valor has a strong presence here, and they’ve been altogether too quiet lately for my liking.”
Delancre seemed genuinely delighted by Tash’s reaction. In his eagerness, he forgot for a moment the dangerous ground he tread.
“Yes, the Order... I’ve been aware of their presence for some time. I suspect they have an agenda that would result in an outcome wholly abhorrent to us. That’s precisely the kind of thing I’m talking about here. I brought you here to offer a... co-operative effort from our organisations as a way to stand united against those like the Order. I was very, very impressed with the way you all handled the situation with The Brotherhood. I, personally, pushed for the Council to take a more active role back then, but alas I lacked the power to really be effective. I was heartened to learn that despite being virtually alone, you and your friends managed to overcome the odds and drive The Brotherhood away. That was an amazing feat.
“I feel an alliance would be a great asset to the Council,” he continued, rising. “I know, believe me I do, the perception you probably have of us, but I want to make you see that we are changing, as is necessitated by the times we live in. We will no longer sit idly by and watch while injustices occur. It’s time we took a stand and protected this world by whatever means necessary from those alien to it.” Delancre paused, waiting to see the effect his words had on the young woman before him.
Rising from her own seat, Tash felt a glow of satisfaction at Delancre’s praise. Sure, defeating the Brotherhood had cost them dearly, but look at what they’d achieved – two Elder vampires gone forever from the world, with all their progeny. That had to be worth it, else Sorrow’s sacrifice had been in vain. And the work was far from over – adding the Watchers’ Council resources to her own would give her mission a much-needed boost. For all their good intentions, her little group was just that – little. There was only so much they could do.
She eyed the man before her speculatively, laughing lightly as she said, “You know, I came here expecting to be meeting an old fuddy-duddy Watcher with grey hair and no imagination. I thought I’d be spending my time justifying the work we’ve done here in LA and trying to gain one or two small concessions. Instead here you are, full of drive and ideas. How many times have I heard people complain about just that very thing? That the Watchers only watch and do nothing to stop the demons who want to take over the world, preferring to leave it up to a single girl to do all their dirty work. I’m glad to see you’re bringing the Council around to a more… equitable footing.”
Tash walked with slow deliberation to the piano, trailing a finger down the lustrous wood. Turning to face Delancre again she said, “So, we’re to provide local knowledge and some resources, in return for…?” Her expression grew even more serious. “More resources, I imagine, your background knowledge, access to these prophecies and what-not – but let me guess, you want something from us before we get anything from you, right? I don’t intend for the White Hats to be subsumed by the Council, Delancre.”
Delancre was full of understanding and quick to correct her assumptions, to reassure her. “Oh, no, never think it, Miss Brookes,” he replied. “I have too much respect for you and what you have accomplished here, especially with such limited... resources. I have no interest in convincing you to give up your autonomy. On the contrary, I would hope to establish an equal partnership between our two organisations. In return for granting you access to our many resources and co-ordinating with you on any situations occurring here in Los Angeles, all I ask is that you provide us equal access to your resources.
“If you would be willing to meet with, say, someone high up in my service, perhaps the two of you could work out some ways in which we could all learn from each other. You all are so young, so new, so vital. I believe more than anything that if you can somehow pass some of your enthusiasm off to us, well, that would truly make a difference in what it is I’m trying to accomplish here. If you’re willing, I’d like you to meet someone – someone very important to me and to my efforts.” Delancre waited for Tash to agree, his hand poised beside a bell cord hanging from the ceiling near the fireplace.
Nodding slowly, Tash replied, “I’ll meet with them, but this isn’t a case of I’ll show you mine and then you show me yours. You may be the good guys, but I’ve heard the odd thing here and there in the past and I’m only willing to give you a little before I’ll want to see something in return. Call me paranoid, but you don’t get to live as long as I have in this business without being careful.”
Delancre nodded, pulling the cord. The demonic servant who had shown Tash in came at once. Delancre spoke briefly with him and he left. “Ana will be with us in just a moment,” Delancre said. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I must admit I’m curious to see what you think of her, and what she thinks of you as well.”
“Ana?” Tash asked. “So who is-?”
She was interrupted by the arrival of a young woman – girl, really – of Italian descent, with curly dark hair and a lithe, well-trained body. One glance at the girl answered Tash’s question. Her aura was vibrant, in much the same way that Ellie’s had been before she’d been turned.
“-The Slayer,” Tash answered herself.
She turned from Delancre and addressed the young woman. “Hello, Ana.”
Anabella Graziani studied the older woman before her with the critical eye of a military commander. This Natasha Brookes had the look of a street fighter, and Ana felt sure she was the superior of the two “vampire hunters” in the room. Still it had been drilled into her head the last few days, the importance of winning over the locals.
Smiling with just a tad too much teeth, Ana returned the woman’s greeting. “Miss... Brookes... It’s nice to meet you.”
Ignoring the insolence that was almost to be expected of a teenager, never mind one with as much power as the Slayer, Tash smiled tightly in return. “Nice to meet you, too. I knew your predecessor, Ellie. She was gutsy. So, you’re part of this shake-up of the Council? Dragging it kicking and screaming into the twentieth century?”
Tash’s grin was toothy as she baited the young woman. For a second she’d been about to say the nineteenth century, but Delancre’s ideas looked to bring the Council way past the 1800’s. And not a moment too soon, so far as she was concerned.
Ana controlled the urge to roll her eyes. “Part of?” she echoed, sliding a glance at Lord Delancre who was watching her closely despite the air of nonchalant indulgence he was outwardly portraying. “Well, I suppose so, yes. I’ve been appointed to lead Lord Delancre’s Corps.”
Delancre interjected. “Now, Ana, we’ve been over this before,” he chided. “They’re not my Corps. The WCC serve the needs of the Watchers’ Council, and beyond that, of humanity. I simply conceived of the idea.”
Ana frowned for a moment, and then turned to Delancre, her expression contrite. “Of course, Sir,” she acknowledged. When she turned her gaze back to Tash, there was no mistaking the adoration in her eyes. “Lord Delancre is too modest, though,” she said. “It wasn’t just his idea. He implemented the whole thing. He understands the world far better than any Watcher before him. If the Council manages to finally make a difference it will be wholly due to his vision.”
The hairs on the back of Tash’s neck rose slightly. Ana’s mention of the ‘Corps’ had raised some doubts in her mind, but of course if the Watchers were to become actively involved in hunting out demons and vampires then they’d need to train warriors for the task. It only made sense. The worry eased from her mind slowly at Ana’s obvious devotion to Delancre. If there’d been anything amiss with the man, the Slayer would be the first to pick it up, but the girl plainly worshipped the ground he walked on. Slayers may be young, but they were rarely naïve. At least, not for long.
“Well,” Tash said slowly and with a degree less enthusiasm than Ana, “he certainly sounds as though he’s on the right track. I’ll be interested to see how it all goes here in LA. I must say, I’m looking forward to the opportunity to flush out some of the more entrenched groups of nasties that feed off this city. Valor for one needs to be dealt with, and there are a couple of Brotherhood survivors proving to be a menace out there.”
Ana looked surprised at the woman’s words. She glanced at Delancre and he nodded encouragingly. “Well, Miss Brookes, I’m surprised that you’re willing to consider allying yourself with us. I’d heard that you and the others here in L.A. had sort of formed alliances with some of the local demons. I was disappointed to hear that, and also quite unnerved by Lord Delancre’s suggestion that he approach you. I was actively opposed to him meeting with you alone, but you seem to be quite a bit more sensible than previous reports indicated.”
Ana paused. “I think I’d like to talk to you about your strategies and methods sometime,” she said. “Right now, though, I think I’ll leave you to Sir Ambrose. I’m sure you still have much to work out.”
Without waiting for a reply, Ana spun on her heel and marched out of the room. Her bearing was very formal and militaristic. Behind her, Tash heard Delancre sigh audibly.
Tash turned and raised an eyebrow at him. “Quite a handful, I imagine. She’s young; she’ll learn. Though she would only have heard of our ‘alliances’ with local demons, as she so charmingly put it, through you, I imagine. Which means her reaction to that is likely coloured by your own. So, is this where we come to the justification part of this meeting, Sir Ambrose?”
She stalked closer to him as she continued, “Because I make my alliances where I have to, out of convenience. For instance, we and Valor have opposite interests for the most part, but without their aid I doubt we’d have been quite so successful with ousting the Brotherhood. I’m aware that will have consequences in the long term, but frankly I didn’t care about that while the Elders were tearing LA apart.”
She paused and fixed steely eyes on him, “Or was Ana perhaps referring to the demonic members of the White Hats? If you have a problem with them, that’s too bad, because they are not negotiable.”
Lord Delancre put his hands up in an ‘I surrender’ gesture, smiling bemusedly. “You are perfectly justified in feeling that way, Miss Brookes,” he said. “I too would feel the need to protect my people in this situation. Not to mention that you’ve undoubtedly been given certain impressions about the Council’s stance on demons as a whole but I want to assure you, that stance is not my personal stance. Unfortunately, Ana is young and headstrong and she’s been raised in the Council. She tends to fall back on the teachings of her youth... a habit I’ve been trying very hard to break.”
Ambrose paused, looking truly distressed. “You see, I want The Slayer to be more than a puppet for the Council. I long for Ana to be the kind of Slayer that Buffy was in her day; independent, free thinking, and as a result, successful. I feel Ana Graziani has great potential. As luck would have it I’ve taken a personal interest in her all her life, provided guidance and support. I hope to help her to become more, to achieve more, and, I suppose, that very selfish motive is one of the main reasons I am seeking an alliance here.”
Delancre paused again. When he continued, there was a pleading note in his tone. “If you could only agree to offer your guidance and to allow Ana and my troops the benefit of your experience, I think that would do a world of good for my cause. You don’t have the constraints that we do. You understand how to... adapt. That’s what I’m looking for.”
“So, what do you think, Miss Brookes?” he finally asked after a few moments’ silence.
Tash had to admit, Delancre would make an excellent used car salesman. He had just the right pitch, and under other circumstances Tash might have taken a lot of what he said with a grain of salt, under the ‘too good to be true’ category. But she could sense his sincerity and she could see the calm ripples of his aura undisturbed by the jaggedness caused by falsehood. So she smiled and held out a hand.
“I think we have a deal,” she said. “I’m very glad the Council now has someone in charge who is more flexible than the old-school thinking we’ve come to expect from the Watchers. I think we’ll work well together.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, March 12th 2007
11:50 p.m.
Streets of L.A.
"How long is it left, Terry?" Sharon asked as they continued down the street, "Shouldn’t we be at your place by now?"
"Soon, baby," Terry answered as he led their way through the street. "Soon we’ll be there."
Full of doubt, Sharon continued following Terry and glanced at the buildings nearby. Although she had lived her whole life in L.A. she had never been in this part of the city before. She had been raised and spent most of her life in the more glamourous parts of L.A., the parts that people often thought about when they heard the name of the city and the only times she had even heard about these parts of the City of Angels had been during certain charity events and such things.
Terry had never told her that he lived in one of these neighbourhoods, but then again they had only just met and even though a part of her had been doubtful at his invitation back to his apartment she had accepted almost instantly.
Sharon was instantly brought back to the present as she saw Terry round a corner and quickly tried to catch up. As she followed his path around the corner she saw to her surprise that they had entered an alley.
“Terry, what the-?” she began as she turned to confront him, but as she saw Terry’s face she stopped mid-sentence and let out a scream.
Terry grinned at the sound of her scream, exposing the rows of fangs within his mouth and quickly reached out his hand to grab Sharon’s throat, thus ending her scream.
He caught the scent of fear leaving her and grinned even wider. “Hush, pet,” he said as he moved his head towards her neck. “This will only take a second.”
He was just about to lower his fangs into her flesh when he heard it, the sounds of applause. He turned toward the source of the sound and was greeted by the sight of a man emerging from one of the shadows nearby. He was dressed in a black, with hair the same colour, and carried a grin on his lips.
“Well done,” the stranger said with a British accent. “Though you should always remember to watch your back. Someone could be following,” he added and looked at the pair, and Terry saw how his grin grew wider.
“Who the hell are you?” said Terry as he turned towards the newcomer.
The stranger seemed to ignore the question and continued to watch the other two in silence.
“A bit sloppy, though” he said after what seemed like an eternity of silence. “If you keep holding her like that you’ll choke her before you even begin to feed, thus taking all the freshness away from her.”
Terry felt the anger erupt within him at these words and quickly forgot about the trembling figure within his hand. He also ignored the sound that she made as she fell to the ground unconscious.
“You’d better get the hell out of here, if you know what’s best for you,” he said and moved closer to the newcomer.
“No, actually I thought of staying and have a little chat, one bloke to another,” the newcomer answered, completely unmoved by Terry’s threat.
“Sure, we can talk…” Terry said moving closer towards him, “But it’ll be difficult for you to speak without a throat!”
Terry quickly advanced towards the other man, but soon was stopped as he felt an iron hard grip around his throat and was greeted by the sight of the stranger standing before him.
“Pardon, me?” he said and as he said these words the grin he carried grew wider.
Terry tried desperately to free himself from the stranger’s grip, but it was as useful as if he was trying to tear down a wall with his bare hands. Even though he knew it was futile it was the stranger’s mocking expression that fuelled him with new anger. But this in turn seemed only to amuse the other man.
The struggle continued for what seemed to be an eternity and it seemed as fruitless as before until suddenly he was tossed through the alley and felt the pain through his spine at the impact of his body with the nearby wall.
Terry tried to get up on his feet but as he did he felt the aching all through his body. As he raised himself to his feet there was a new grasp around his throat as he was pulled up towards the same wall he had been thrown into before. The familiar visage of the stranger stood before him, only this time he carried something within his hand.
He felt fear as he saw the object; it was a stake.
“Right,” the stranger said as he moved the stake closer towards Terry who tried to free himself from his grasp, but it was to avail. “You’ve got two choices, mate. Either you give me some answers or I’ll dust your ass so hard there won’t even be any ashes left.”
At these words Terry felt how the stake came closer towards his chest, so close in fact that he could almost feel it pierce through his skin. Fear spread through his body at this and finally he muttered a few words.
“Can’t hear you, mate,” the stranger answered and Terry could almost feel how he made a new movement with the stake.
“I’ll talk! Please just don’t kill me,” he said and as he did the stake stopped in its journey towards his chest and he saw the stranger give a smile.
“That’s better,” he said. “Now then, tell me what you know about the Brotherhood.”
Terry looked in surprise at the stranger after he had uttered these words, not sure if he had heard it right.
“What?”
“The Brotherhood, mate. You know, bunch o´ scary old elders. Some hunters destroyed two of them a few months ago. Rings a bell?”
“I don’t know that much about them, man,” Terry said and his voice was now marked with fear.
“Really? Well that’s just too bad…” At these words the stranger turned towards him raising the stake once more.
“Please!” Terry said, the fear in his voice changing to panic. “I really don’t know, man. Just got here for a few weeks ago after I heard they were gone. Please don’t kill me man!”
“Don’t be silly,” the stranger answered, “I will not kill you just because of the wrong answers…”
As soon as he had said these words he plunged the stake through Terry’s chest.
“However I will for you wasting my time,” he muttered as Terry’s body exploded in a cloud of ashes.
Hunter watched as the ashes descended towards the ground and felt the frustration rise within him. It had been twenty days and nights since he had arrived in L.A. and so far he was no closer to finding it.
All the vampires he had interrogated had arrived only recently in the City of Angels and thus given him little information. They were to his eyes nothing more then mice getting out of their holes now that the mean old pussycats were gone.
After a few minutes he turned towards the body of the young woman at the other side of the alley. He went over to her and put his hand towards her throat, feeling her pulse. He could feel the beating in her throat, so the fall to the ground hadn’t killed her at least.
As his gaze fell upon her neck, he soon felt the all so familiar hunger rise within him. He slowly changed into his true face and sank his fangs into the meat of her neck. Soon after the sweet, sweet taste of her blood poured down his neck, he gave one quick look towards the pile of dust nearby and one name came through his mind at that moment.
Emily.
Introducing Dragomir Der Drahtzieher
***Monday, 12 March 2007 – 9:00pm – Century Plaza Hotel, Los Angeles***
Introducing – Gary Oldman as Dragomir Der Drahtzieher
Dragomir sipped slowly on his brandy, slouching down in the high-backed leather chair as he waited for his contact to arrive. He’d been waiting for an hour already but he was a patient man, used to biding his time and although he despised tardiness he was beginning to relax enough after his ten-hour flight from England to appreciate being on his own for a while.
He sat in the lounge room, surrounded by businessmen and young couples, groups of women laughing together over cocktails at the bar… and sighed.
Dragomir was not used to being in this country, he didn’t like it. He found Americans on the whole to be big and brash and loud – just like this land they had created. Every time he came to the colonies it was like stepping into some Freudian nightmare where everything had been made bigger, larger - ‘super sized’ as they liked to call it - to overcompensate for some hidden lack.
As the sound of laughter near the bar grew more intrusive to his solitude, Dragomir grunted in disapproval, folding up his English copy of The Times and draining the last of his brandy. If his contacts were so keen to keep him waiting he’d meet them some other time when he was in a more amicable mood. For now, he decided a spot of fun up in his hotel room would be just the ticket to help him unwind. He had already spied a viable candidate back in the lobby; it would just take the right amount of persuasion to get exactly what he wanted.
Dragomir rose to his feet, dropping the newspaper on the table as he left. Inside he secretly wished that one of these vulgar immigrants would pick it up and actually learn something about the world outside of Hollywood and its jaded starlets. Not holding out much hope he headed in the direction of the lobby and his prey.
***
Nina Mercer had been due the evening off, she needed it to rehearse for her audition tomorrow. There was a particularly important casting going on for a new romantic comedy staring Jennifer Lopez and Eminem. Something about an operatic singer from Manhattan and a white rapper from Queens meeting in a New York café one day and falling in love despite their different backgrounds, and eventually overcoming all odds and musical adversity to become a hit in a new Broadway show that combined their opposing music styles to critical acclaim!
It was just a bit part, a waitress serving coffee, and of course she knew only a fool would want to star in a movie with Jennifer Lopez. The ailing singer had been desperate to make a hit movie for decades despite every failure. But after nine months in the city with hardly an infomercial under her belt, Nina was becoming more desperate than the divine Ms. Lopez.
Dragomir waited impatiently for the girl to return with his messages, his long gloved fingers tapping on the marble surface of the reception.
“Mr. Drahtzieher?”
Dragomir slowly turned his head up to face the attractive blonde girl. Through the dark blue tint of his spectacle lenses he could covertly grade the small curves of her nubile, young body. He guessed she was about twenty-three years old though the tightly scraped back hair-do she was wearing made her look old beyond her years.
“There was a message, Sir. About forty minutes ago a gentleman called to say he was going to be delayed. I don’t know why it wasn’t passed on to you, I’m terribly sorry about all this…”
“There is no need to worry yourself my dear,” Dragomir purred, his heavy Romanian accent lingering at the end of every word.
Nina blushed at his intense gaze, feeling his eyes behind his glasses caressing her body more than any man she had ever met. Bravely she raised her own eyes to meet his, forcing another flush of warmth to flood her face. He was incredibly attractive for a man of his age and obviously very wealthy if the cut and cloth of his extravagantly decadent suit was anything to judge by. He almost looked like he’d walked off the set of some movie. Of course this being Los Angeles that was a very definite probability, but there was something about his mannerisms and rich, Old World accent that made the mystery and glamour all his own.
“Your name, ‘Der Drahtzieher’…” she mused self-consciously, saying anything to take her mind from the erotic thoughts she was having about this complete stranger. “I studied German at Brown… doesn’t that mean The Manipulator?”
“You know, you could be quite a pretty girl,” Dragomir said gently, ignoring her question. “It is a shame for you to wear your hair in such an old fashioned manner.”
Nina nervously touched the back of her head. “You don’t like the way I wear my hair?”
Dragomir cast a cursory glance around the lobby before focusing on a leggy brunette that stood poised near the elevator. The tight fabric of her dress clung to her voluptuous curves like a second skin, her long, dark hair cascading down her back like a waterfall.
“You see that woman?” Dragomir said, pointing her out to Nina. “You see how she uses her feminine sexuality like a weapon, she casts a spell on everyone who lays eyes on her. Don’t you see it? The men… they cannot take their eyes from her… they will go home tonight and make love to their wives with the image of that woman in their minds.”
Slowly he returned his gaze to Nina. “You will never be like that woman. Men will never lust after you the way they do her.”
A hurt and confused frown spread across Nina’s face and she looked away, wiping at her eyes as she felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She knew she should be angry, or tell this guy where to get off but she just couldn’t. For some reason his words felt like the very essence of truth. They were like those nasty voices that talked to you whenever you admired yourself in the mirror, or watched while other girls, less attractive girls, came in, all snuggled up in the arms of their boyfriends while you sat alone nursing a drink.
“But… but I…” she stammered uneasily, feeling that sinking feeling deep in the pit of her stomach.
The corners of Dragomir’s mouth turned upwards slightly at the girl’s inability to resist the series of unspoken suggestions he had sent her. “Fühlen Sie, Nina einsam?”1 he whispered softly, gently removing one of his gloves and letting his thin, pale fingers slide across the counter that separated them.
Nina nodded sadly. Tears rolled steadily down her cheeks now and she made no effort to brush them away.
“That’s only natural,” Dragomir carried on, reaching up to remove his glasses. “This city is a lonely place and you are a long way from home… aren’t you?”
Nina nodded again, entranced by the man’s crimson eyes. She was a long way from home; her parents hadn’t approved of her coming to Los Angeles, they thought her dreams of becoming a famous movie star were frivolous and childish. They thought she should find herself a man and settle down and have a few children like her sister Mindy had. They would be quite happy for her to come home, they could tell her they told her so and congratulate themselves on being right.
Dragomir moved his hand further across the counter towards where Nina’s rested. “I too am a long way from home and I feel very… lonely right now. Perhaps, if the two of us are lonely together that might help ease both our sufferings a little… don’t you agree?”
“Having fun without us?”
Dragomir suddenly broke contact with the girl, drawing his hand back and replacing his glove as he turned around to face the man who had spoken and disrupted his entertainment.
“Mr Carmichael, Mr Gemmel, how nice of you both to put in an appearance.”
Aimes smiled at the young girl behind the reception who seemed suddenly embarrassed, wiping at her tear-streaked as she ran off to hide herself. “Well then, seems like you’ve been getting in a bit of practice. There’s diligence for you, eh Gemmel?”
Michael Gemmel huffed, obviously not amused. He hadn’t agreed with Carmichael’s decision to bring in this… this demonic mind bender. He didn’t care what his excuses were, Dragomir Der Drahtzieher was a liability and a dangerous one too.
“Well,” continued Carmichael, ignoring Gemmel’s disapproval, “I suggest we make better use of that penthouse suite of yours and adjourn our conversation to a more secure location.”
“That we had better Mr Carmichael,” agreed Dragomir, straightening out his glove and watching his quarry vanish with more than an air of discontentment. “For some of us the night is still young.”
__________________________
1 (Do you feel lonely, Nina?)
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, 12th March 2007 – 6:45pm
Ambrose Delancre was feeling smug. Today had gone well, better than he’d hoped. With Natasha Brookes on board, he’d be able to keep a close eye on her and ensure she didn’t interfere with his plans. Most of the rest of the White Hats should be experiencing the effects of the Hyde virus by now, if his ex-protégé Amanda was any indication. Yes, things looked to be progressing nicely.
Now he sat in his study, having enjoyed an excellent meal, and contemplated which of his current bevy of ‘dancers’ he should invite to entertain him this evening. As he pondered this question, one of the servants knocked quietly at the half-open door and waited patiently for his master to acknowledge him.
“Yes?” Ambrose asked pleasantly, much to the relief of the servitor, “What is it?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Sir, but there is a telephone call for you… it’s Mrs MacPherson.”
With an irritable sigh, Delancre held out a hand. “Very well. Bring me the phone.”
Bowing deeply, the servitor passed the instrument to Delancre and backed from the room, closing the door behind him to leave his master some privacy.
Picking up the handset, Delancre spoke into it. “My dear Cate, how lovely to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Cate ground her teeth from the other side of the phone at the mere mention of the words ‘dear Cate’. Any time he talked she wanted to reach out and rip the tongue from the man’s mouth.
She collected her thoughts and began to speak, “Ambrose, I feel we have upheld our part of the bargain and it is now time for you to fulfil yours. I want what is rightfully mine.”
“Now, now, Cate, there’s no need to be so belligerent. Your group has performed admirably for me over the past three years. Why this sudden urgency for your… reward?”
“Urgency? Oh, there is no urgency Ambrose, but the point is it has been three years and how many Slayers and other nasties like that have we killed for you? I am no longer in the position to let you hang our reward over our heads anymore; we need them as soon as possible.”
Ambrose’s irritation grew. Certainly he had held out this carrot for a long time, and certainly his secret utilisation of the Ghosts as his black ops team had worked to his advantage in the three years since they’d broken away from the Watchers’ Council, especially in the case of ensuring the Slayer power became seated in Ana. But Cate MacPherson’s arrogant assumption that he would just hand over their payment on demand raised his hackles.
And Cate’s assertions of ‘no urgency’ didn’t match her worried tone, so he decided to test the waters. “Well, I’m sure I can have them shipped to you in due course, my dear. How does… oh, August or September suit you?”
Cate’s anger began to grow but she slowly began to calm herself. *He’s playing games with you, Cate,* she told herself.
“Sounds fine to me Ambrose, but it would be much easer if I just sent one of my men to fetch it from you. I’m sure ‘Knight’ will be able to transport it faster than you could.”
Delancre chuckled, ready to dismiss Cate’s proposal. Then a thought occurred to him. The phone line hummed for several long moments while he contemplated it. Yes, he could serve two purposes at once this way. And if they were worthy then the Ghosts could have their wretched reward. If not… well, what use would he have for a team not strong enough to take back what was theirs? It would be interesting to see how his two elite forces fared against each other, and would serve to weed out the weak. He might even contrive to get Miss Brookes to be involved, test her mettle first hand.
The more he thought of it the more elegant the solution seemed. Just as Cate began to wonder whether Delancre had forgotten about her, he cleared his throat and said, “Very well, my dear, I think someone could fetch the items. But I have a proposition. Shall we say, a final test of your team’s worthiness. Send your six best operatives, and I’ll send six of mine, including the Slayer who shall be carrying one of the items. [b]If[/i] you can take it from her, then you can keep it and I’ll give you the other.”
He smiled, knowing Cate wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge. Then almost as an afterthought he added, “Oh, and send that vampire of yours… what’s his name? Oh yes, James. These items are really his, aren’t they? Send him along, and I’ll send an extra soldier to even up the numbers. What do you say?”
Cate thought about it a moment and her face split into a grin. “As you wish, Ambrose. What’re the rules of engagement; do I merely knock your Slayer out or do you want me to give you her heart in a box?”
His protective instincts rose to the fore and he wanted to impose that restriction, to tell Cate that his Slayer was not to be harmed. But then, how could that be a true test? He trusted Ana’s abilities; he had overseen her training himself, almost from her very birth. He had faith the Ghosts could not kill his Slayer.
“No holds barred, Cate. If they can take her down, then she wasn’t the Slayer I’ve trained her to be. But of course, she can be relieved of your property without being killed. I shall leave it to your discretion as to how you brief your team.”
“Well Ambrose, what shall be the time and place, or shall it be whoever finds whoever first? Either way I’m happy about it.”
“I think we’ll arrange a place. How does Runyon Canyon Park sound? And shall we say… Wednesday? Night, of course, in deference to your vampire,” Delancre smirked.
Cate grinned. “As you wish, but one thing I want to know just to be a bit fair about it all – what species of demon will you be sending to this little fray?”
“Come now, Cate,” Ambrose chided gently, “You know my forces, and those I brought to Los Angeles with me. It will be a selection of five of my best, plus Ana… and, of course, the extra one to even up your six plus James. As to which ones exactly? Well, you already know the capabilities of my troops; feel free to prepare for any combination.”
“Don’t worry, Delancre. I will be well prepared.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that at all. I would have had no use for your Ghosts if you didn’t prepare them well,” Delancre’s voice was oily. “Until Wednesday, then.”
Without waiting for Cate’s reply, Ambrose hung up the phone and sat back with a contented sigh. Yes, today had gone very well.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Sunday, March 11th
11 pm
After leaving Alessa at her door, Ellis decided to take a walk to the hotel instead of riding the company car he had been driving. It was a long walk and it would be good to clear his mind; he’d send somebody for the car in the morning. *I might get lucky and find a vampire or two on the way,* he thought, a thrill of anticipation going through him.
A smile played across his lips as he thought about the picture that Alessa had made when she’d rushed inside her apartment, trying hard not to look at his eyes. But he’d sensed her attraction clearly enough, his demon empathy seemed to be especially attuned to her.
She had looked lovely too. Her ordeal had left her only a little thinner and paler, but she was recovering quickly, her demon blood showing at that. Also, her eyes didn’t look so haunted anymore, and they were amazing eyes too, so green... He felt himself get increasingly excited again; since the night of Roxana’s visit he seemed to have lived in a state of permanent arousal. *Maybe I should find a pretty vampiress,* he thought, *A newly risen one I could shag before staking.* He groaned, as he grew painfully engorged.
“I really need to get laid,” he hissed.
“That could be easily arranged,” sounded a voice behind him and Ellis whirled around, his hand instinctively going to his stake. There was a vampiress leaning on the darkened threshold of an abandoned apartment building.
Ellis smiled and looked around, he hadn't noticed walking to the seedy looking alley he was in now. *My feet know what I need,* he reflected, easing his stance and taking a better look at the woman in front of him. She had looked young and fresh but a closer inspection revealed too much make up covering her middle-aged wrinkles. It wasn’t difficult to guess what her profession had been when human, either. *She’ll do.*
“Indeed? And what would be the price, my entire blood stream?”
She looked mildly shocked of him guessing what she was, but recovered quite soon. “Well, we could get to an arrangement, a little on your part, a little on my part…”
Ellis grinned and approached her. “My part may not be that little,” he joked as he kissed her hand in a mock gentlemanly gesture; he suppressed a shiver at the rank odour of her filthy hand. It didn’t strike him as odd that he was considering a wall bang with a old prostitute vampiress in a seedy alley; it didn’t strike him as strange that he was even more excited at the thought of staking her in the middle of the act. He just needed to appease his loins.
The vampiress giggled, and came so close he could whiff her cheap strong perfume. One hand stroked the collar of his jacket, the other fluttered over his jeans. Ellis just pushed onto the preening hand and smiled. She leaned on to whisper in his ear. “That’s good material, Sir. I think we can make a deal.”
“Indeed,” he repeated, tryng to kiss her neck and stop from breathing her foulness at the same time.
She chuckled hoarsely, in an attempted seductive tone, but was experienced enough to know this client didn’t need urging. She kissed his neck, quick as a snake and moved against him, pressing forward with her hips, then she moved away.
Blood was pounding in Ellis’ temples and his heart raced as he stretched his hands to near her again. However, the vampiress chuckled again making a negative gesture with her finger, “Patience, my love,” she said, and tugged her long goth-like skirts up her thighs and settled on the ground, over a stack of flattened cardboard boxes, positioning herself to receive him.
Too excited to work properly, Ellis fumbled with his jeans opening them, and knelt between her spread legs. He was about to fall upon the harlot when he touched her. Her undead flesh was too white, cold and slack; it felt like a dead animal left in the shadows to rot. A sudden glimpse of Alessa’s tanned skin flashed through his mind; she was warm and smooth and she surely smelled of something nice, like vanilla or jasmine, nothing like this pitiful thing that awaited him.
Suddenly he was nauseated by the vampiress’ effect on him, and guilt and self-loathing engulfed him. Ellis looked down at the vampiress for a long moment; so long that she opened her eyes in question. She smiled again when she saw him finally falling upon her, but her smile froze on her face for a last moment when she noticed that instead of spearing her with his body, he buried a stake deeply into her heart.
As the dust of her settled, Ellis stood up, zipping his jeans up. He shook his head as if to clear his mind, shocked at what he had almost done. Shocked and repulsed. He had never felt this blinding need, this state of complete unleashed lust. He had never needed to resort to hookers either; his good looks and position had always afforded him all the sex he wanted in his teens and youth. Then he had met Ling, and lost her. He almost didn’t remember how being with Ling had felt, the sense of fulfilment, of becoming one with another. But what he did remember had prevented him from seeking loveless relationships; which didn’t mean that he had gone celibate either.
He had never felt this need to hunt, the thrill at killing. He usually did his DP hunting in a detached way, not letting his emotions interfere with it. But he had been eager to face and destroy those vampires earlier that night, and he would have killed the whore after shagging her, hurt her too.
He rubbed his hands down his pants, as if trying to erase the feeling of dirtiness the vampire’s contact had branded onto them. Something was wrong. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he wasn’t behaving like himself, he wasn’t acting himself.
Something was wrong and he felt completely defenceless and vulnerable. Taking his cell phone he dialled his hotel and asked the concierge to send a cab to pick him up. Tomorrow, first thing, he’d get in contact with his ‘Magics & Relics’ brand experts. He knew something was wrong, and he knew it wasn’t physical.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, 13th March
2:00am
“It’s a building,” Kyle stated flatly. He and Cole stood in front of just that.
Cole cast Kyle a scorning gaze. “Look closer.”
Taking a moment to peer through the night and the blur brought on through mass alcohol consumption, Kyle then let out an exclamation. “Of course! How silly of me. It’s a shop. Can we go now?” He looked around. “I think we left Vincent somewhere, and I think I haven’t had enough to drink…”
Cole rolled his eyes, as he smacked his drunken friend upside the head. “No Kyle, we cannot go right now; not until I got what we came here for.”
The blood-shot eyes of the older boy blinked confusedly, *What did we come for again?* After the ninth beer, things had gotten pretty hazy. “Uh Cole, what is it again that we..?”
“For the LAST time, I need something special from the MAGIC shop!” Cole bellowed irritatedly, as he made his way to the door.
“Right, right, I remember,” Kyle mumbled as he zigzagged after Cole. “Have a plan to get in?” he added, noticing the closed sign hanging plainly in the window.
“Of course I have a plan. Just a few simple spells, to unlock the door, turn off the alarm and…”
A loud shattering sound interrupted, as the glass window of the door fell to pieces. “Or I could just smash the door down,” Kyle laughed, a goofy grin plastered across his face. It was the only time Cole had seen him smile when he wasn't fighting a vampire.
“Or you could do that,” Cole sighed, stepping through the make-shift passage. Kyle’s drunken actions would no doubt bring the police to the scene, but what did it matter? The boys in blue couldn’t really do much to stop them even if they managed to arrive in time.
As Cole stepped in, Kyle reached for a cigarette. When he had it in his mouth, a quick rummage of his pockets turned up empty. Now where had he put that lighter…? He shrugged and shifted, bringing his tail around to the tip to light the cigarette. Breathing out and shifting back, the tail shrunk and vanished. He followed Cole in. “So, this special something…” Kyle began, picking up a jar of something off a shelf as he passed. Sniffing, he made a face and put it hurriedly back, picking up another next to it for inspection. “What is it?”
“Lasarna’s Seal. It should look like a platinum disk, with this inscribed in the centre,” he said, extending out his palm and projecting a mirage of an arcane symbol. “They’re pretty rare, so it’s quite a stroke of luck that they have one in inventory.”
*Quite lucky indeed.* Once he had the relic, his plan could finally be put into action. Finally he would get his just rewards.
“And how do you know they have one?” Kyle yawned, as he continued to fidget with a crystal ball.
“I looked on their web site,” Cole replied, plainly. “And please Kyle, be careful,” he lectured, “Some of these things could be dangerous.”
Kyle held both hands up in protest, remembered he still held the pot in one, looked at it as if in surprise, then put it down on the first available surface. “Hey, I gotcha. Keep my hands to myself. You’re the brains of this operation, after all. I’m just the muscle…”
*Not something I’m bothered about, either. Means I don’t have to think, and that can only be a good thing. Like beer. And sex. And vampires.* Taking a deep drag on the cig, he crossed the cash register and thumped it. The draw popped open and he started relieving it of cash. Not that there was much. He took what was there anyway. “What does this thing do? Out of curiosity, you see. It better be worth dragging me away from the beer, and…and wasn’t Vince going to look for chicks? I’m not sure…well, if he was, and that too…”
*'Brains of the operation', what an understatement,* Cole thought, taking a second out of his rummaging to address his friend. “ Lasarna was a powerful witch who lived around 16th century. She was renowned in magical circles for her expertise in magic concerning souls, auras, and basically anything to do with a person’s being. Her seal acts as a powerful catalyst when performing spells of that nature.”
“Really,” Kyle replied neutrally around the cigarette whilst flicking through the notes. He didn’t hold much truck with magic, despite what Cole had shown him. Seemed too… fairy-tale to him. Too head-in-the-clouds. He preferred to do things the hard way. Still, what Cole had shown him was powerful. And he would prefer to keep powerful people as ‘friends’ rather than enemies. Which meant appeasing Cole at times like this. Pocketing the money, Kyle rounded the counter and began inspecting several of the jars and bottles lining the walls. “Reckon there’s any alcohol in any of these?”
Kyle waited for an answer, but when none came, he turned his attention to see what was distracting his friend.
"It’s here,” Cole said, tapping on a glass cabinet, as if enthralled by the relic. “Yes, yes this is going to do quite nicely.”
Kyle’s eyebrows raised. *What the hell is wrong with him?* “So why don’t you grab the stupid trinket, and we can get back to Vince and the party.”
From his angle, the fire demon could not make out the look of complete irritation that had crossed the mage’s face. Kyle and Vince were beginning to grow boring. *Calm down Cole,* he coaxed himself, forcing a smile back to his face. *What do you expect from them, they don’t understand the power of magic.*
“I told you Kyle, we have to be careful with this stuff,” he said, twiddling his fingers.
The cabinet popped open. After carefully wrapping the disk in a black silk cloth, and placing it in his bag, Cole turned triumphantly back to his friend. “Now we can leave.”
Kyle raised his head to the roof. “Finally.” *Thought he’d never find the damned thing. Back to the alcohol at last, and away from this boredom.* He stumped his cigarette out in a pot of something, ignoring the rising plume of greenish-yellow smoke, and headed for the smashed-in door, talking back as he walked out. “Hey, Cole. You think we’ll run into any vampires on the way back?”
Cole rolled his eyes. *Is fighting and alcohol the only things he thinks about?* “Who knows?” he replied, stepping out through the door himself to join Kyle. “Maybe we’ll get lucky-” Cole broke off when he took in the cop car waiting outside. Two officers, taking shelter behind the open doors, had their guns pointed towards Kyle. And now Cole, too. Kyle was staring at them with a bemused-drunken look.
“Freeze!” one yelled.
The boys stopped in their tracks, but to the chagrin of the officers they didn’t seem the least bit concerned - not fazed whatsoever.
“I hope you two little brats had fun, because this stunt is going to cost you big time,” one of the cops called out, keeping his weapon drawn just in case.
“Did you hear that Kyle, I think we’re in a lot of trouble,” Cole laughed arrogantly.
“I like trouble,” Kyle replied, giving his sinister grin that unsettled both cops. “Trouble is good. I’ve got the one on the left, can you deal with the one on the right?” he asked, turning to Cole.
“You even have to ask?” Cole smirked, as he flicked his wrist and uttered a word in Latin. The gun that had been resting reassuringly in the right cop’s hand flew upwards, only to come crashing down several metres away.
“What the hell!?!” The officer sprinted after his fallen weapon, but it was too little too late. The area around Cole began to grow cold and any onlooker would swear that it also seemed to dim, as if the very light surrounding the boy dwindled away.
“ Mighty Hecate, to thee I pray… ”
The incantation Daye had taught him proved fruitful as a stream of black energy rushed from Cole’s fingertips, slamming painfully into the police officer, launching him forwards until he finally landed on the ground with a painful thud.
The other cop, distracted by Cole’s magics, didn’t see Kyle’s attack until it was too late. And too late was much too late. He managed to catch sight of Kyle diving at him, changing his appearance mid-leap, and let out a startled cry at both the surprise and the sight before the demon was on him, knocking him to the floor. The stronger effects of too much alcohol burned away with his fire, not completely, but enough to sober him up a little.
With the advantage of surprise, momentum and demonic strength, it wasn’t too long before Kyle, back in human form, had wrestled the gun out of the cop’s hands and was pummelling him mercilessly.
“Uhh… Kyle,” Cole began, but was ignored. “Kyle. Kyle? Kyle!” Realising he was being called at last, Kyle paused with his fist reached back for another blow, the other grabbing the collar of the cop, whose face was looking a bleeding and bruised mess. If he wasn’t dead, he was surely unconscious. He looked at Cole expectantly.
“I think you got him.”
“Oh, right, yeah.” Dropping the cop, Kyle got to his feet and dusted himself. “Almost wasn’t worth it. Now I gotta get drunk all over again.” He kicked the officer for good measure.
Cole walked over to the driver’s side of the cop car, and smiled as he saw the keys sitting seductively in the ignition. With a wave of his hand and another incantation, the car’s appearance shimmered, looking instead like a flaming red Lamborghini Diablo. “No worries my friend, the night is still very young.”
daye and alicia have it out
*** Monday, March 12, 2007 10 am ***
The Bibliophile
Daye sauntered into the shop late in the morning. She’d gone home around two that morning. She’d climbed into bed, wrapped tendrils of her power around Drew’s drowsy mind, and forced him to satisfy the needs left throbbing inside her after Nikolai’s abrupt departure. She’d fallen into a deep contented sleep immediately after, and hadn’t awoken until very late. Drew had been gone long before she’d gotten up, and that was for the best. He would have questioned both her and his own actions the previous night, and Daye was feeling too good to deal with that.
Daye didn’t say anything to the men and women manning the counter or taking orders. She didn’t even acknowledge Josh’s greeting. She just sailed into the shop and headed straight for her office.
Alicia Wyldling waited in Daye’s office, pacing restlessly. She’d had a rough night with Kolya, and despite her initial doubts had to admit that whatever had happened between him and Daye, it hadn’t been all in his imagination. Daye had done a poor job of covering her tracks. When Alicia had come in early this morning to open the shop, she’d found the evidence of Daye’s spellcasting stashed within this very office.
Alicia had been pacing and seething ever since.
Daye strode into the office and stopped dead at the sight of Alicia Wyldling stopping in midstride to turn and watch her enter. Daye continued inside warily, shutting the door behind her.
*Oh lovely, the jealous girlfriend,* she thought derisively. *Kolya probably ran right into her arms. Well, this should be fun.*
“Alicia,” Daye greeted the other woman coolly, skirting her to settle behind her desk. “Is there something wrong?”
Alicia studied Daye critically. She realized right off that something was definitely not right. The first clue, besides the cold attitude, was the way the other woman was dressed. Daye had always had an earthy, classic style. She tended towards long, flowery skirts or dresses and loose tops. She was demure, preferring to leave her assets to the imagination. Only today, she was dressed in a suit made entirely of black leather. The skirt was impossibly short, and the jacket ended just above the skirt. Under the jacket, she wore a tight, silk t-shirt with a deep v-neck line that was bright red. Her hair was pinned up, with curls escaping all around, and she wore make-up, something she rarely did. Her lips were painted the same bright red as the skirt. She had black leather pumps on her feet, with impossibly high heels.
The clothes were only the beginning, though. Daye didn’t look herself for more reasons than that. She was sitting on the edge of the desk, watching Alicia and there was a feral light in the younger woman’s eyes, as if she was waiting for Alicia to make the wrong move so that she could pounce.
Steeling herself, Alicia finally spoke. “I want to talk about what happened with Kolya.”
Daye nodded slowly, looking annoyed. “I thought maybe it might be that.”
Daye sighed. “I hope he’s all right. I think he misunderstood what happened last night.”
Alicia stared incredulously at Daye. There was no way Kolya had misunderstood anything. Apparently, though, Daye was going to try and make something up to placate her. *Well, I’ll just wait and let her dig her own hole, won’t I?*
“I asked Kolya to meet me here at the shop,” she continued unabated. “I had wanted to try and make amends for offending him at the funeral. I’m afraid I may have come on too strong and given him the wrong impression.”
Alicia snorted derisively. “At which point are you afraid that might have occurred, when you answered the door dressed only in magic symbols, or when you tried to use your power to force him to have sex with you?” she demanded sarcastically. “Give me a break, Amanda. I’m not an idiot and neither is Kolya. I don’t know exactly what’s going on with you, but I found the candles, and the book, in your office this morning. I know Kolya was telling the truth. You tried to force him to sleep with you using your magic. You tried to rape him!”
Daye swore softly. She had been lax in covering her tracks, and now she would have to pay the price for that.
“Very well,” Daye replied. “It’s true. What you just said is true. I did try to seduce Kolya. I used my magic on him. But I honestly just wanted to test my own limits. I wanted to see how far my power had come. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I like Kolya. Honestly.”
Alicia was appalled by Daye’s nonchalance. The woman didn’t appear to realize the depravity of her actions. “Test your power?” Alicia responded. “Are you mad? And about that power, don’t you realize the dangers inherent in the things you’re doing? Those magics, the ones you’ve started to pursue, they’re dangerous. You shouldn’t be messing with that stuff.”
Daye felt the anger flare up at Alicia’s criticism. She wasn’t this woman’s lackey or anyone else’s for that matter. She would do as she pleased with her magic, and the rest of the world be damned.
“Look,” Daye said softly, “that’s none of your damn business. I’m sorry if I upset your precious Kolya, but don’t you dare try to tell me what to do. I’m my own woman, and I will make my own choices. I don’t have to obey you.”
Alicia was stunned by the venom in Daye’s tone. “Maybe so, but you do have to obey the Council. You are a Watcher, and you’ve taken oaths…you’ve agreed to abide by certain standards. We all have.”
“Are you kidding me?” Daye replied. “You’re boffing your brains out with that half demon bastard and you have the audacity to try and threaten me with the Council. Whatever. You are in no place to talk. Just ’cause you’ve finally found a demon with the right equipment to send your holier than thou attitude packing doesn’t mean you have the right to try and lord it over me. I know you, Alicia Wyldling. You were right there alongside all the others looking down your noses at me when the truth about Ryan and I came out. Don’t expect me to believe you’ve suddenly changed so much.”
Daye never paused in her tirade. She was breathing heavily, her eyes flashing with fury. “You have never been in any position to feel superior to me. You and I both know that. You’ve pretended to be my friend on the one hand, while spying on me like a rat on the other. How long have you been running back to Delancre and his cronies with tales of my ‘misbehavior’, huh?”
Alicia recoiled as if she’d been slapped. She wanted to deny Daye’s accusations, but there was a kernel of truth in them. She had been charged with keeping a close eye on the young woman, and she had reported on Daye’s behavior, as well as the actions of her friends. But that had been before… before she’d realized that Daye was doing the right thing, that her friends were fighting the good fight. Before she’d met Kolya. She wasn’t the same person now.
“I don’t care what you say or do now,” Daye raged. “I’m not going to be answerable to anyone other than myself. So, go ahead. Run off and tell the Council what I’ve been doing. See if I care. I’m not weak and scared anymore.”
Daye stormed past Alicia and out of the shop. It was far past time she thought about cutting the strings to the Council altogether. Alicia Wyldling had just given her to impetus to do so.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, March 12th
Alessa’s apartment
5:10 pm
Nikolai pulled his car into the driveway at Alessa's house, once he'd been given her address. Curiosity still had the better of him and he wanted to find out for sure if this was the same Alessa he'd met before. Besides, it was a good break from trying to set up the first meeting. Jimmy wasn't with him, preferring to let him set everything up then get in touch, but now the problem was contacting the right people.
Reaching the door he rang the bell, waiting several minutes patiently. Everyone would want to know how she was doing, how she was holding up from the loss of Chance, so he steeled himself for the amounts of grief that he would feel. Instead he felt a mix of concern and worry when a woman opened the door.
"Oh, hello," he said. "I'm looking for Alessa. She wouldn't be around by any chance, would she?"
Inés looked at the man at the door and managed a smile. Another stranger to visit Alessa. She was about to answer when her cousin’s voice sounded behind her.
“Who is it, Inés?” Alessa approached the door and looked over the demoness’ shoulder. At first she didn’t recognise the dark haired man on the threshold, then she remembered him.
“Nikolai? What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised. Then she remembered her manners and smiled at him. “What a surprise. Come on in, please.” She smiled in reassurance to Inés and moved aside to let the man inside.
Nikolai kept Inés partly in sight while he walked into the house, falling into his non-threatening approach. "I ran into Amanda at the funeral," he said, watching for any sign of reaction. "She told me about what happened, and I thought your description sounded familiar." Really, what else was there to explain? *Oh, I don’t know, that she seemed indifferent and tried to fucking rape you?* Nikolai pushed the feelings aside; they were a distraction he could not afford. Neither could he afford guilt over how he had treated Kate earlier.
“Amanda? Oh, you mean Daye.” Alessa smiled again, but inside a rush of uncertainty invaded her, she hadn’t talked much to Daye since the night of the rescue, and the details of her ordeal were still so fuzzy that she didn’t want to think about it. She felt violated whenever she thought of those stolen days; to know whatever had happened would be better than this.
“Well, yes. I… but wait, how come you know Daye?” then she remembered their conversation in the café. It had been only a couple of months ago but is seemed like ages. “Don’t tell me that your psychic friend was Tash after all?”
“Seems so,” he said, and smiled, but she noticed that his eyes were following Inés around the house.
She turned to her then, “Inés, querida, would you be so kind of going to the bakery and bring us some croissants? I’m sure Nikolai would love to stay and have tea with us, won't you?”
Inés just raised an eyebrow and agreed before taking her purse and leaving the apartment. Alessa waited till she left to talk again. “That’s my cousin Inés, she’s staying with me while I recover my strength. She’s a dear, but sometimes she’s like a guardian dog.”
She smiled at him again. “You were saying that you knew Tash, right?”
Nikolai nodded, he could understand the protective concern. Nobody had told him any of the details at all of what happened, and suspected that they might not, but if it was bad... well, normally the person who was responsible would be killed. Nikolai hoped that this had been the case.
But to find out that she knew Tash as well, that was interesting. "Well, yes. We actually met in a car accident," he said, before thinking of the dimensional expedition. "That was when the thing was still in one piece."
He had to admit that he admired the clever way in which Alessa steered the conversation immediately onto a neutral but common topic. She would easily go far in life if she chose to do so. "You can tell Inés not to worry, though. Any problems, you can come to me."
“Well, she knows I can take care of myself, and I usually have a good eye to pick up my friends.” She smiled brightly to him, but then an image of Chance appeared before her eyes and she had to focus to keep the smile in place. She saw the look of pain in Nikolai's face and remembered his empathic abilities. Worried, she hurried to apologize. “I’m sorry. It’s just that much has happened in my life since we met. And almost all bad.”
*That is putting it mildly,* he thought at the feelings that were welling up inside of her. Oddly enough though he took them more in stride; he would have to get used to feelings of distress again. Especially if he was to get back in the business. Still it did highlight to him just how fortunate he had been. "There's no need to apologise. We all go through rough patches from time to time." Though he couldn't help but wonder... "How are you doing now?"
Alessa smiled weakly. “How much do you know?” but after he answered she waved her hand and laughed without humour. “It doesn’t matter, actually. Not even I know what happened for sure.” At his confused looks she explained. “I can't remember anything of it. Nothing. It’s just as if I had gone to sleep and got up all bruised and sick during the night. In fact, if I hadn’t gone to sleep in England and woken up in Colombia a month later, I’d swear that’s what happened.”
She sighed and looked away. “However, I’m all right now. All my wounds have healed, and I’m not sick anymore; I picked up some kind of virus in the jungle, on top of everything else,” she explained.
Nikolai gave a polite laugh at that, "I think something's going around, I just had one of those twenty-four hour viruses a few days ago. Real nasty one too, made me miss a meeting."
He wondered what the whole story behind that was, usually part of him spoke up. When someone didn't remember large stretches of time it was due to something like post traumatic stress disorder. All he had to do was point Trigger in the right direction, and whoever did whatever it was they did to her would never walk again. And if he managed to survive the beating, he would never complain again, either.
"But to answer your question, I know that you have lost someone close to you - and that is all."
Alessa would have staggered if she hadn’t been sitting. He knew about Chance too? She closed her eyes tightly, and breathed deeply to wade the sorrow that flooded all over her. Her voice was thin when she spoke. “You seem to know a lot about me.”
Nikolai nodded again, the sorrow was clear enough that he could have felt it without his abilities. As it was it served only to confirm it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to remind you. It's just that Amanda said you were a bit down, so I thought that I should come see how you were doing is all."
“I’m glad you did. Truth is, I’m sick of staying inside this apartment, and Inés is not helping. It’s good to have someone else to talk to. You know, I need to find something to do, I can't go on like this.”
Rubbing his chin, Nikolai considered her. If she were in the ‘White Hats’ she would probably know something that could be useful, maybe even how to fight. It was something to consider. "I can understand that. So," he said, sitting back in the chair and rubbing the sides of his head. It had been a long day so far. "Sorry, have a headache developing. Do you want to talk about it?"
*Talk about Chance?* Actually she didn’t, her feelings about him were too confusing of late; beneath the sorrow there was anger lurking and that made her completely lost. Made her feel guilty, unworthy of him. Her constant dreams of Morris, and her newly found attraction to Ellis weren’t helping either. She shook her head and avoided that train of thought.
“I used to teach, but after an… ‘incident’ no school would hire me. Now the White Hat-” She paused and looked at him, he surely knew of the White Hats if he was Tash’s friend? At his nod she went on. “Well, Tash told me that getting back to the White Hats may make me feel better, but really… I’m not at peace with them either.”
A surge of anger went through her at the thought of all those ‘demon wise’ people and how they had let Chance go to his death like they had. She suppressed her anger and looked guiltily to Nikolai. After Tash’s visit she had tried to rationalize her feelings, but she wasn’t having much luck. And she shouldn’t be voicing them, especially not to Nikolai, who could hear beyond her words. Quickly she continued. “And this apartment… I’m moving out as soon as I can. I see him everywhere.”
The string of emotions that came in was surprising to Nikolai in that he really wasn't expecting them, though he could understand not wanting to face the others. He didn't dare to point out to her the fact that he was now one in Tash's group. That could come out in time. He had to wonder if there was anything at all that could be done, or if it were simply one of those times where a Russian would say nichevo and leave it at that. "Well, there's always the possibility that I could do something to help." It seemed odd, making the offer so many times recently. His thoughts turned back to Kate the other day momentarily, imagining the pain that she must be going through.
*Can you bring Chance back?* she thought, but laughed and asked instead. “Can you offer me a job?”
Nikolai was more than a little surprised at the question, no way had he been expecting anything like that question. Was Alessa a telepath or just really desperate to get out of there? And for that matter, just how far was she willing to go? "It might be possible," he told her. "It would all depend on whether or not you think you could handle sales of a certain kind."
Alessa arched an eyebrow at that. "A certain kind?"
"Weapons. All strictly on the up and up," *At least for now,* he thought, "But still, weapons. There's a certain amount of paperwork that will have to be gotten out of the way, but I can handle that." It was difficult, he knew, to offer more. There was the possibility of more money with less legal transactions, but until he knew she was willing to go through with them, he wouldn't say anything.
"Assuming, that is, you don't mind potential demon customers," he added hastily. That would be enough to signal that there was at least something shady going on but not too shady.
Alessa gave a pearl of laughter at this. “Why would I mind? You’d have a demon waiting on them, what better?” Getting serious, she added, “Are you serious? I was just voicing a wishful thought, you know?”
Nikolai nodded. "It's possible. Of course, I will have to clear it with Reah first. But with any luck we'll have the first contracts to get supplies shortly, in fact I have a meeting tonight to take care of that."
He felt like bashing his head. She had just implied she was a demon, and Amanda had pretty much done the same thing when she told him about the Council, beating down the anger he felt towards them. "Wait. You're a demon?" After everything that happened, it just didn’t click.
She looked at him, puzzled. “I thought you knew… I mean, you know so much about me.” She bit her lip waiting for the old rush of discomfort to come, but being surprised at not feeling it. Instead, she raised her chin, somewhat defiant. “My mother was a demon. Is that a problem?”
"Not at all, I was just a little slow in putting everything together," he explained, feeling slightly uneasy again when this put him in mind of Daye. He could admire her defiant stance. This was clearly a woman who, even without help, could be able to survive in the underworld if that was what it took. "I'm actually half demon, at least as far as my mind is concerned," he added this last with a smile. That seemed as good a summary as any.
She smiled, relieved. Not as much for his being a demon and therefore accepting, but because the offer was still open. It felt strange, this new feeling of sureness, but it was good. She felt light-headed for the first time in days. “Cool. I really need to do something, anything, to have my mind occupied; and this job sounds just right.”
“You can tell Reah that I could be an asset for your business.” She started to enumerate with her fingers, without taking her eyes off his. “One, I’m a demon myself, can get the supernatural customers at ease, while the human ones wouldn’t notice. Second, I can manage with a number of languages, human and demon ones. Third, I know my way with weapons too… I guess we are talking fire weapons, right?”
He nodded, “Among other kinds…”
“Good.” She went on, “I don’t like them much but that doesn’t mean I’m an ignorant or an inept. Now, with more classical stuff… I’m even better,” she grinned. “Fourth, I don’t really need the money, so I can wait till the business starts giving profits; and fifth… I don’t have much more to occupy myself, so you can expect a good worker.”
She held her breath, waiting for Nikolai's reaction to her words.
Nikolai was highly impressed, and could tell that Reah would be as well. And even if she weren’t, there would still be other things that she could do. He could always use someone else in meetings, even if Alessa weren’t the kind of person who could, if necessary, pull off a hit. Provided she was willing to break the law, of course.
Perhaps the best asset, he thought, would be someone else involved who was not likely to let his famous temper explode on a customer, getting himself or someone else killed. Some days he was surprised that Trigger had lasted as long as he had.
Alessa's stare brought him out of his considerations. "I'm sure that talking with Reah will be merely a formality at this point, then. But are you sure that you're feeling up to going back to work already? Particularly in a business that could be rather dangerous?"
“Bah!” she dismissed his words with a wave of her hands. “You sound like Inés, already. I’m fine. Nothing could be worse than staying in this house. But you didn’t mention the need to be ‘fit’ for danger in your offer,” she said, leaning backwards and narrowing her eyes.
Nikolai smiled. "It seemed like something that went without saying, I would have thought. Some demons can be a rather touchy bunch when it comes to getting the right service." He stopped to think for a minute, there was a definite possibility here that he had to ask about. "In any event, I apologize for that but in this city it's best to be prepared for everything. Would you like an excuse to get out of here tonight?" With luck, the sudden question would go over well, but he couldn't think of any better way to bring it up.
Alessa looked at the door; Inés hadn’t returned yet, and she was taking much longer than she should. She guessed the demoness was giving them time to talk in private. Suddenly she felt oppressed, why would she need privacy in her own house? To hell with Inés.
“I don’t need an excuse,” she said, getting up. “Where are we going?”
"Well, I have a call or two to make first, but..." Nikolai trailed off, he really wasn't expecting a possible agreement quite so quickly. Of course, there was enough restlessness radiating from her that he thought she would take any excuse to get out.
"We're going to meet an associate of mine, and try to make the supply deal. If it's successful..." he smiled. "If it's successful, we'll be able to start moving stuff without many problems."
“Perfecto.” She pointed to the kitchen, and started to walk towards her bedroom. “There’s the phone. I’ll be changed and ready by the time you finish your call.”
Nikolai got up to make the calls, wondering exactly how well he could set everything up on such sort notice. Pulling a piece of paper from his pocket he found the first number he needed, for the demon named Illana Toren. She seemed ready to agree to a meeting, after the earlier discreet calls that had been made. Then he quickly called Jimmy the Hand.
"It's me," Jimmy answered.
"Hey, Jimmy," Nikolai said, before switching to Russian. "I got that thing all set up for tonight."
"Yeah, yeah, that's good. Where?"
Nikolai gave the address, before thanking Jimmy and hanging up and turning back to see Alessa standing there. "You have very good timing."
Alessa watched herself, not a drop of self-consciousness in her expression. She hadn’t wanted to take much time and besides… what would one wear to a weapons deal? However, since he had mentioned danger she was just wearing comfortable clothes. Black jeans and a blue v-neck sweater. At the last moment, she had donned Chance’s battered leather jacket as a lucky charm. Somehow he had left it behind; another hint that he hadn’t been himself when he left the city. He had loved the jacket. She forced herself not to think about him.
“I try.” She smiled at Nikolai and made a circle. “How do I look?”
Nikolai raised an eyebrow at her. *It is a good thing that I am already taken.* He was certainly sure that Jimmy would probably appreciate her appearance a great deal. "Like someone I wouldn't want to piss off." That was certainly another major element to her appearance as well. "Well, we have a few hours at least until the meeting. What do you suggest we do until then?"
She shrugged and cocked her head. “I don’t mind, as long we don’t wait here. Anywhere but here,” she managed to say with enough indifference, but inside she was already running for the door. She grinned then. “Shall we go?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Monday, March 12th
8:30 pm
Jimmy the Hand looked out the window of the café, sipping a cup of coffee before going back to reading the paper. You heard things on the street that didn't get into the paper, but using the two could sometimes yield interesting information.
When the door opened to the café again, he looked up to see Nikolai there with a very attractive Latin woman. The pair made their way over to the table to sit down, "Hey, Kolya. Is this one of your associates?"
Nikolai nodded slowly, introducing her. "Yes. This is Alessa. Alessa, meet Jimmy the Hand."
Jimmy looked over her carefully, admiring the way she looked while wondering if she was as dangerous as she looked. The answer to that was ‘probably’. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
Alessa assessed him as boldly as he had. The man was probably in his late thirties and had a ruthless look about him; if she’d have had to guess his nationality, she’d have said he was Italian, and not Russian as Nik had told her. His dark eyes showed intelligence… and danger.
She gave him a bright smile as she slid in a chair besides him. “Pleased to meet you too, Jimmy.” Then she cocked her head and grinned, “The Hand?”
"Just a little nickname I picked up along the way," Jimmy assured her, taking another drink of the coffee. All that was left now was to wait for Illana Toren to show up. "Let's just say that I'm a very good businessman."
Nikolai laughed at that, Jimmy would have to be to survive in the life that he had chosen.
She gave the men a quick glance and turned to signal a waiter to bring them a coffee. She was confirming her suspicions that Nikolai’s ‘business’ wasn’t as ‘up and up’ as he had implied. If Jimmy wasn’t a gangster she wasn’t a Verbati. She surprised herself feeling thrilled with excitement, though, and had to suppress a smile. After the waiter had brought them the drinks she relaxed in her chair, sipping her coffee and listening to the men talk.
They had to wait about twenty minutes for the final demon to arrive, Illana Toren. She wore gloves and the hood of a coat up to hide her orange skin, making her appear more human than she really was. Her eyes fell on the booth and was impressed by the man there. She had done her checking when Nikolai mentioned the name `Jimmy the Hand` and discovered his connection. She slid into the seat next to him.
"I can see that you have more than adequately met our requirements," she said. "So then, shall we begin?"
At the nod, they started to talk. The discussion was in vague terms, rarely approaching what they were really talking about. It was one of those conversations where you said `the shipment` and omitted the fact that you were discussing handguns. Or you talked simply about `the product` or `that thing`. To any outside observer, it sounded like a couple of people who did business having a leisurely talk about work. Their goods could be anything at all, even plumbing supplies.
At last Illana smiled and nodded. "The first will arrive within a week," she said, slipping out and away.
Jimmy smiled once she left, glancing between those two. "I'm very impressed, you two," he said. "I'll talk to Svetlana, and I think she'll be very happy as well."
Alessa smiled sweetly at him. She felt so tuned that she could explode. She hadn’t almost intervened in the conversation, rather let Nikolai do the talking, but she had learned much in the exchange anyway. The rush of adrenaline running down her veins felt as it did after a good fight or good sex, she could get addicted to this.
“You do that. If Nikolai here doesn’t hire me, maybe your Svetlana would?” she joked, and once again assessed him with her eyes.
Jimmy eyed her, raising an eyebrow before laughing. He could tell that Nikolai had his eye on her to work for him from the moment they walked in. "Trust me, it would take a lot of work," he half-joked back. Svetlana had been quite clear in her instructions.
He glanced at the clock, before leaving more than enough money to pay for the check. "If you'll excuse me, I've got to run. I've got another thing to take care of."
She watched him go away before turning to Nikolai. “Well, if that was legal business I’m the Queen of Saba,” she said, but her smile smoothed the comment. “I’d like to know a little more before we talk business again.” She’d already made her decision, but she wanted to see if he’d go on hiding his true colours.
"Let's go for a ride," Nikolai suggested without really hesitating. He knew she would probably pick up on it, but the fact of the matter was that she sounded eager, at least with her underlying emotions. The two paid the bill with Jimmy's money before heading out to the Monte Carlo and starting off on the street. "So, what do you want to know?" he asked, suspecting that he already knew the answer.
“Well… let me see… everything?” she winked.
Nikolai shook his head at that, there was a problem here and the question of how to put everything. "Well then, allow me to assure you that the deal is perfectly legitimate." He hoped that she would pick up on the stress of this last word. While not technically the same as legal, it was far more important to have the sense of legitimacy that it carried in this context than being 'legal'.
"Which might not be to say you're Queen of Saba."
She laughed at that, “I wish!” Then she sobered up and nodded. Nikolai’s answer was vague, but clear enough at the same time. Of course the deals weren’t legal; but as long as they were ‘legitimate’, as he had put it, it was enough for her.
“Bueno, I’m assuming that when you say ‘legitimate’ you mean you intend to honour the deals you make. If that’s the case, I’m ok with it.” She smiled him brightly when he took his eyes off the road. “So, when are you going to show me this Armoury of yours?”
Nikolai smiled. Honouring deals was certainly a part of legitimate, but there was a more important part. It meant that the right person in the underworld got her piece of the action, especially since it would all be moved into the organisation.
“We could go take a look at it now," he suggested. "Probably best to, before business starts to pick up."
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
The (Reformed) Armoury
Monday the 12th, March 2007
22:00
Heavy panting came from somewhere below.
A spirit, repulsed, turned its mind elsewhere as the air grew thicker, denser with an intensifying humidity from the basement. It was hard to ignore, down the winding staircase, as the heat seemed to gradually well up, consuming the place with an undeniable passion.
It hated this. It really loathed it. Being stuck here, on this plane, bound by these… incomprehensibly disgraceful beings! And it had to serve them.
Then something happened! Its attention was suddenly drawn. If it had a face, it would have definitely been said to be smiling as it sensed one of the others approach.
This would prove to be very interesting indeed.
Reah’s back pressed hard against the wall, a free hand gripped around an overhead pipe while the other arm slung over Damen’s shoulder, clenching the shirt on his back while her legs wrapped firmly about him. The two supported her weight together as they moved rhythmically against the wall, completely unaware of what was happening above.
Nikolai opened the door to the shop, flipping on a light switch as he led Alessa into the store.
"Forgive me, it's a bit bare," he said, making an understatement as to the first floor. There were more than enough display cases that would eventually hold guns, ammunition, swords and the like, but for the moment they were all bare.
"This is the main sales room, obviously at least for the human public," he explained. "We're not expecting many demons to come in through the front, though - that's what the sewer access in the basement is for."
“Clever,” she said as she looked around. Even without the goods the place looked just right, it was big and had potential. “How do you guard the basement?”
"We can shut the sewer access," he explained, leading Alessa through the shop. Where was Reah? She said that she would be in the shop. Security was always a good concern to have though, and it was best to start with the places for most of the work.
"A heavy steel door, almost as good as a bank vault," he explained, before opening the door downstairs. Nikolai promptly shut it. Loudly. "Or my boss having a screaming orgasm down there."
Alessa giggled, amused by Nikolai’s sudden embarrassment. “Oh, I can understand how that would keep nasty customers out,” she said, trying to sound serious, but not succeeding. “Why don’t you show me the upper floor while we let Reah finish her… hum, business?”
Nikolai stumbled away some, trying to laugh but unable to. Whenever he was around Reah when she was... excited... bad things happened. The first time, his jaw got busted. Then the second time she damn near killed him. "Very good idea," he shot out quickly, leading her to the upstairs area. "I think that Reah said something about using it as some kind of workshop..."
“Did… you hear that?” Reah slowed slightly, frowning under the light sheen of perspiration.
“Hear… what?”
“Shh, stop,”
“Ah-ow!”
Reah grimaced, then smirked wickedly at the anguished look on Damen’s face as she just dropped her hold on the overhead pipe and landed herself firmly back on the ground with two feet, pulling away all too quickly for his liking.
Turning her attention back towards the stairwell leading up to the ground floor, Reah crouched down while holding her gaze on the upward-winding metalwork and slipped her discarded pants back on before stepping warily towards it. Damen cursed, following stiffly behind.
Alessa was following Nikolai up the stairs when she sensed them. She musky scent of sex filled her nostrils. She looked up, but the Russian hadn’t noticed it. She smiled, and tugged at his jacket. Nikolai turned, with a question in his eyes.
“I think my future boss has finished her transaction,” she whispered, and winked. “I wouldn’t like to meet a bullet before I can have my job interview.”
The pair returned downstairs, Nikolai slipping into the lead just in time to catch the sight of Reah and Damen making their way up. "Hey, Reah," Nikolai started. "I've got some good-" suddenly he stopped.
It wasn't just the feelings of arousal and embarrassment that stopped him so much as it was Trigger. Trigger was there. After the night before, Trigger was there.
With Reah.
Trigger. Had sex. With Reah.
"Um, hi," Damen said, running his hand through his hair in embarrassment. That made twice now, and Nikolai stood there with his mouth open like a fish in complete shock at the site. "Um, it's not what you think."
Nikolai tossed him a sideways glance before turning back to Reah. "Please, tell me you have better taste in men than him."
“What?” Reah stood her ground firmly, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, firmly fixing Nikolai with her eyes. She only gave the slightest twitch of annoyance at what Damen had just said. Nikolai was the main issue at hand for the moment. “Are you jealous, or something, that he actually manages to survive?” The slightest smirk pulled at the edge of her lips, but she forced herself to keep a straight face.
Nikolai looked at Reah, then to Trigger, and finally back to Reah again. She was both annoyed and amused at the moment while Damen was worried, and with good reason. "No, not jealous at all," he returned. "I took care of that thing we were talking about. First shipment from Illana will be coming in sometime this week, and I have someone else who could help us."
Damen breathed an inward sigh of relief that Nikolai didn't say anything, when he stepped aside to allow Alessa to speak to Reah, before pointing to Trigger. "You don't mind if I borrow your `boyfriend` to have a little chat, do you?"
Reah quirked a curious eyebrow as he led Damen off, then turned her attention back to the woman standing… “Oh! Alessa! Hey!” she smiled warmly.
Alessa smiled back, although she was intrigued by the exchange. She remembered Damen from the Hyperion, he had impressed her with his attitude. Now he seemed to be… friends with Nikolai too. The world was indeed small.
“Hello Reah,” she said to the woman, and frowned at Nikolai’s retreating back. She thought he would tell Reah her reasons for being there. She shrugged and looked at her possible boss again. “Nikolai told me you might need somebody here. And I need something to do, I thought we could help each other.”
Reah cocked her head in consideration, her smile turned thoughtful, but still pleasant nevertheless. She knew all about what had happened - she’d even sparred with Darian to try and help him overcome what had happened with Chance - but of all people, Alessa was the one whom she least expected to be standing here selling herself for a position.
“I’m sure we could.” The woman was definitely strong willed enough, and half demon if her memory served correct. Reah was sure Alessa could prove to be an asset for the The Armoury. And there weren’t that many who could!
Damen was led by Nikolai into another room off to the side, feeling a bit nervous. He knew what Nikolai was going to bring up, he could bet, and wished that he wouldn’t. “I swear, Nik you’re thinking of it all wrong,” he started.
Nikolai did not even bother to hide the disgust in his voice. “So, you didn’t have to get her drunk? Just how many of my friends are you going to fuck?”
“Jesus Christ, will you stop busting my balls already?” Damen raised his voice. He knew something was wrong with Nikolai, but he just didn’t care at the moment. Stopping for a moment, he tried to keep his temper under control. “Nothing happened last night."
“Really?” Nikolai smiled knowingly. “Then I guess the guilt she was feeling was at something else?"
“You won’t leave me alone until I admit it, will you?” Trigger lost it. He could not keep his temper in check, his voice rising ever louder. “Oh no, it’s not enough for you that you drove the point home for her. Well let me tell you something, pal, we were drunk. And I mean real fucking drunk, ok? I did not plan on having sex with Kate!”
“No, you didn’t,” Nikolai returned, feeling the emotions of shock clearly from outside and Trigger’s worry that he had been overheard. The shock told Nikolai that he had been. “But I also know the way you are. You make it a habit of hurting my friends, I’m going to kill you. Understand?”
Damen almost said something, then stopped. It was a look he didn’t expect to see on Nikolai's face again after merging with that demon. Nikolai was dead serious about it. If he did something Nikolai didn’t approve of, he would get whacked. “Yeah,” he spat out before looking towards the door and stopping in horror at the sight of the two women there.
“Damen?” Reah’s voice was hoarse, and she had to force herself to swallow. Was that her who said his name? It sounded so odd…
What was going on again?
A flickering smile flashed across her face as she shook her head, “Um…” Her hand was visibly shaking as she reached out for Alessa’s shoulder, “Welcome aboard. I…” She’d been hearing things right, right? He wouldn’t… Not to her… he’d have to be stupid… Not to her…. He couldn't...
Why was she standing here again? “Oh! Right… Sorry Alessa.” She burst a short-breathed laugh, “Just blacked out for a moment there. Completely lost where I was!” Her laugh was stronger this time as she held onto the woman. “I’ll go get you some papers. Excuse me.”
Nikolai had the good grace to at least look more embarrassed than Damen, able to tell that they had heard at least the end of the exchange. "My apologies," he said, approaching Alessa. "We didn't mean to be so loud."
"The fuck you didn't," Damen muttered, trying his best to disappear.
Alessa just glared at the two men, and turned to follow Reah. Let them finish their ‘argument’ alone.
Reah was in her office. Her back was to the door, and she was fumbling with some papers when Alessa entered the room. She had to admire her, no way she would have reacted the same way to the same news!
Why did she have so many papers? You’d think that she’d be able to find what she wanted with as much ease, wouldn’t you? But, oh no. Instead she had crap upon crap to do with… she lifted up one of the pieces before her: crosswords? No that wasn’t right. Where were they?
Reah’s incessant searching gradually slowed to a near stop as she paused to think, *What am I looking for again?* She frowned. How much time had she wasted fumbling blindly through a whole lot of shit when she was supposed to be doing something in particular… she knew…. *Alessa! Forms! Alessa forms!* She’ll be waiting for her still.
Suddenly remembering, she sprawled over the desk, legs kicking up in the air, and reached over to one of the drawers on the other side, opening it up to pull out what she was needed then sprung herself back off the desk, spinning about to-
“AAH!”
Papers flew everywhere as Alessa suddenly seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Reah blushed, cursing herself inwardly and apologising as she bent down to regather the forms.
“Sorry Alessa, I didn’t see you there,” she sniffed.
Alessa smiled, and bent to help pick some of the forms up the floor. “Don’t worry. I didn’t want to startle you.” She handed Reah the papers, and inspected her closely. If she was hurt she didn’t show it, but she had seen enough of Reah to know she wouldn’t.
She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know the woman enough to even attempt an intimate talk. Instead, she looked at the papers still in her hand and noticed that it was a hiring form. *Good, safe enough.* She looked up again, “This means I’m hired?”
Reah straightened, pulling a smile on her face as she stared the other woman straight in the eye to answer encouragingly, “Sure does! It’s what I said, wasn’t it?”
“Not exactly… but never mind.” She grinned. This was great! She had a job! “Thank you, Reah, I won't disappoint you.”
Reah nodded distantly to herself at Alessa’s words. “I’m sure you won’t.”
Alessa bit her lip, it was evident that it wasn’t a good moment to chat with her new boss. She seemed distracted, and no wonder, but she couldn’t go just like that.
“Ok, well… I guess I’ll go back down then. I’ll bring these papers tomorrow and you can instruct me about my duties.” She paused, and finally carried on, “If… if you need anything,” she paused at Reah’s stare. “I mean, I know we don’t know each other much, but… if you need to talk or anything…” she noticed she was babbling and stopped talking. *You don’t need to make a fool of yourself in front of your new boss, you know?*
Reah smiled crookedly and shrugged at Alessa’s blatant discomfort. “Don’t worry about it, mate. Shit happens. I’m…” She still wasn’t entirely sure what she’d heard. It felt like some strange thing her wicked mind had conjured up to torture her, but then Alessa shouldn’t be acting like this too, should she?
“He did… I did…?” Reah’s question was left lingering, rubbing the bridge of her nose, she frowned. “He really said it, didn’t he?” she finally asked, dropping her arm as she addressed Alessa in a tone no different from an everyday discussion, "The fuckwit really admitted it?"
Alessa dropped her eyes, and noticed that her boots needed polishing. “Indeed, he did,” she answered finally. “I’m sorry.”
Again she found herself without words, what could she say to Reah? A surge of rage went through her. Damned men, they just couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants! And damn Nikolai, so much for his empathy! Couldn’t he wait until they were alone to talk to his friend! Some friend too!
“Huh,” Reah sniffed again, bemused, and sucked thoughtfully at one of her teeth, “… Funny.”
Finally, she turned her attention back to Alessa, “Well, I don’t want to hold you up any longer. Just get those back to me whenever, and… yeah.” What was she supposed to do now? “I’ve just got some things I need to sort out here.”
Reah snapped out of her frown and smiled warmly at Alessa. “Thanks again. It’ll be good to finally have another woman around here.”
Alessa smiled back. “I’m sure we’ll make a great team,” she said, and before she could control herself she hugged Reah. “Thank you,” She repeated, and let go of the woman, a little embarrassed by her effusiveness. She smiled again before leaving the room.
Damen had left the armoury within in a few minutes of the two women going upstairs, leaving Nikolai alone on the first floor. He considered following up then decided against it.
The anger felt by Alessa and Reah had been clear enough; it would probably not be a wise idea. Looking over to the steps as the sounds of footfalls came, he saw Alessa walking down the steps. "I'm sorry about earlier," he said.
Alessa just huffed. “You should. Whatever possessed you to talk about that here?” She shook her head and glared at Nikolai.
Nikolai thought for a moment before answering. "He got Kate very drunk and I just found the two of them together this morning. She had an argument with her husband and he used her." It seemed a weak justification, but it might at least make his concern more understandable.
She nodded. She could understand Nikolai’s worry, his anger at Damen, but in his concern he had been inconsiderate with Reah. “I understand. If that’s the case Reah had to know about it, but that wasn’t the best way.”
Nikolai sighed, he knew that she was right. Still there was a rush there as he'd had earlier with Kate, that of being in control of his life again. But he pushed down those feelings to try to continue on. "Yes, I know. She wasn't supposed to overhear, but..."
Alessa shrugged. “Well, she did, and even though she’s trying not to show it, it’s affected her. Anyway, it isn’t as if it were you who wasn’t faithful.” She smiled then, and waved the forms for him to see. “Good news, I’m hired. I’ll be back tomorrow with these filled and talk a little more. Today it wasn’t the best of moments.”
A distracted look came over Nikolai's face at her earlier words, slowly fading at the news of her being hired. Was he really prepared to blame himself? In a way he thought he was, after all he'd almost been...
"Yes, very good news," he forced a smile.
It wasn't his fault. He wasn't in control of himself when he left, and even if he had gone straight back to his place... "Offer you a ride home," he said evenly, starting towards the door with Alessa.
“Offer accepted, partner,” she said, and entwined her arm in his, smiling up at him.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, March 13th
12:30 am
Inés couldn’t believe her ears; she looked at Alessa's retreating back and just gaped. She had come back late last night to find Alessa gone, but since she knew her cousin was with a friend she hadn't been concerned. However, as hours went by she got more and more nervous, and was about to call Ellis when she had heard Alessa arrive and say goodbye to her Russian friend before entering the apartment.
She had turned on the lights the moment her cousin closed the door softly behind her.
“Wow, Inés, you startled me!” Alessa said, nonchalantly. She rested her keys on the table near the door and assessed Inés’ pose on the sofa, laughing. “You look like an irate father waiting for his teenage daughter, prima. What’s the problem? I passed my teens about… seventy years ago?”
Inés couldn’t help but to smile at that. Alessa was right, but she had been nervous.
“You just took too damn long to get back, just that. I was worried.” An annoyed look passed through Alessa’s face and Inés braced herself for one of her cousin’s usual tantrums of late.
However, Alessa was feeling too exhilarated for her irritation to last long; she had a job! She beamed at Inés. “I have wonderful news Inés, I’ve got a job!”
“What do you mean? Wherever did you get a job this time of night?”
“Well, it wasn’t in a nightclub, nor on my back!” Alessa sneered.
Inés felt stung with her words. She didn’t like the implications those words had, nor the cold tone they had been spoken in. Inés breathed in and controlled herself not to snap back at Alessa. It wasn’t like her cousin to go making judgements on her lifestyle, she had never done it before.
“I didn’t mean that, and you know it. You just surprised me.” She smiled a tight smile. “Let me put it differently; what kind of job is it, and how did you get to have it? There, satisfied now?”
Alessa shrugged and walked to the kitchen, she needed something sweet. “It’s a job in an armoury, and Nikolai offered it to me. I’ve just come from the shop after meeting my new boss.” She gave a peal of laughter, “Who actually is another acquaintance. LA may seem big, but indeed it’s too small!”
“An armoury?” Inés was left to follow Alessa if she wanted to keep talking.
“Yes, you know, a shop where they sell weapons. Una armería.” Alessa opened the fridge and took a big can of dulce de leche that she started to greedily spoon. “Mmm, this is delicious, I wonder how these Americans can live without it!”
“Alessa,” Inés’ tone was less than patient, “I know what an armoury is, but what about teaching? I thought you wanted to go back to it.”
She shrugged as she took another spoonful of the sweet treat, “Well, having your lover kill a dozen people at school, the principal included, isn’t good for your career, you know?”
Inés grimaced. She knew about the incident, and that her cousin could talk about it so nonchalantly was another indication that something was not right with her. “And what about Ellis? He said he could get you a job at his company.”
“Hmf! I don’t want a secretary position! All boring and modosita! No, this will be fun. I need some fun in my life now!” She grinned wickedly and added, pointing at Inés with the spoon. “Besides, haven’t you heard?”
“¿Qué? Heard about what?” Inés was still frowning at Alessa’s words and the question took her by surprise.
“Don’t mix business with pleasure!” She laughed at Inés’ dumbfounded expression and walked to her bedroom, shaking her head and licking her spoon.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
The Armoury - Reformed
Tuesday the 13th, March 2007
07:32am
A lifeless void, deprived of sight and sound, light and thought, crushed the straightened office with the merciless steel claws of an ominous black hole. Its centre focused. Destructive. Painful. Cold. Chaotic. Empty…
An age, it seemed, since it was last disturbed. An age of lost opportunity, an age of seeing red. And with it, the calming oblivion of detachment.
***
It was early when Alessa left her apartment. After last night’s exchange with Inés she didn’t want to face her cousin again this morning; she felt embarrassed at some of the things she had said and hinted.
She drove to the nearest café and had her breakfast while she filled The Armoury’s hiring forms. As when she had applied for Centennial, she was going to use the faked data that made her more human, she had already filled half the form when she cursed herself and crampled the piece of paper angrily.
She started another one using her real information; she wouldn’t be hiding herself any more. She finished her coffee, took her things and finally left for the shop; she just hoped Reah would be there. She wasn’t so sure the woman had got that she was coming back in the morning.
Like a machine, Reah switched on, her senses alerted to the recently familiar buzz emanating from a concealed speaker in the room that had her picking up the image of a woman through her cybernetics - Alessa, standing patiently at the store’s ground entrance.
Without so much as taking a simple breath, Reah set off the signal to admit the woman’s entrance.
“Well, at least somebody is in,” Alessa said when she heard the door opening. The Armoury looked as empty as last night, though, and Alessa walked upstairs to Reah’s office. She frowned when she saw her new boss, but quickly smiled.
“Good morning, Reah. I brought you the forms.” She tried to sound cheerful, but her eyes assessed her. Reah was wearing the same clothes, and looked as if she had stayed the night in the shop, which was probably the case.
“Morning.” Reah mechanically turned her head up to smile back at Alessa, the pristine whites of her eyes concealing what the dark circles beneath them could not. She hadn’t slept at all. At least, she hadn’t technically.
She’d completely shut herself off from the outside world, but not purposely. She hadn’t really realised she’d drifted off into darkness, not until she’d been disturbed. It was almost as though she’d been in ‘stand-by’ mode and Alessa just jerked the mouse.
Grimacing at the painful twinge in her craning neck, Reah twisted out the crick and spoke over her rising yawn, “You’re up and about pretty early this morning, aren’t you?”
“Well, I couldn’t sleep well last night. I seldom do these days.” She looked at Reah again and dared to speak. “You don’t look very rested yourself.”
“Meh…” Reah shrugged it off, “Shit happens. Plus I’m used to it: being a freelance hunter and all.”
Flexing her back, she dropped her eyes to the papers in Alessa’s hand with a small frown, then smiled when she recollected some of the previous day’s events. She’d efficiently side-stepped other, less desirable portions. “I see you’ve got initiative. Those are what I think they are?” she asked with a small nod toward the forms.
Alessa looked down to her hand, she had forgotten about the papers. She winked. “Well, I didn’t want to give you time to change your mind.” She handed Reah the papers and hurried to explain. “I didn’t want to start hiding things, but I might have to do those again. Just in case you got an inspection or anything."
Reah sniffed cynically at the remark and looked over the papers, chuckling lightly behind pursed lips as she read, “What ever do you mean? Clearly you’re in your nineties!” she remarked with an edge of playful sarcasm in her voice.
After a moment, she leant across in her chair, placing the papers on her desk. “Well, looks in order to me! Feel free to fill out another whenever you want.” Reah smiled weakly, her eyes wavering distantly off Alessa’s, “I’m not too fussed either way, really.”
Alessa grinned, Reah was a strange woman. She couldn’t begin to guess how she’d react from one moment to the other, but the matter-of-fact acceptance she got from her was good to feel.
*From all of them,* she thought, again doubting her decision to cease her affiliation to the White Hats. She shook her head, parting from those thoughts; she had made her mind up and now there were more pressing matters to deal with.
“So, Reah, why don’t you tell me what I’ll be doing?” she asked. She wanted the woman to move from behind that damn desk, it was as if it had became a shield against the world. *Shit happens, all right, but you have to keep going girl.*
Then she laughed at the irony of it, *Look who’s talking!*
“Well, for starters,” Reah sat up in her seat, propping clutched hands on the desk. “I’ll probably have you dealing with customer service and what not.” She paused, “You’re all right with that, I’m assuming?”
“Please,” Alessa waved her off, “I used to teach in a school!”
“Some of the clientele will be demons and hell beasts. Now if you thought regular people could be a bitch to handle…”
“I’ll say again: I used to teach in a school,” Alessa replied with a smile and a wink.
Reah laughed at that. “Fair enough!” she continued, her eyes still lingering elsewhere as she picked up her spot. “And, yeah! Other duties, just like stocking up, signing deliveries, keeping the place in order. Things like that. Not overly stressful, eh?” Reah smiled at the woman this time, “But enough to keep you busy, if not crazy.”
“I’ve been getting crazy sitting at home, this will be heaven-” At Reah’s quizzical gaze, she corrected herself, smiling. “Well, at least a lesser hell.” She looked around the office, eager to start doing things, but Reah hadn’t moved from behind the desk still. “When are you opening? Is there anything I can start doing?”
“As soon as our first bulk order comes in I’ll be needing you to help straighten the place out and get it all good to go,” Reah had to suppress another yawn. “I plan on opening a couple of days afterwards. That gives us a whole day, at least, to make sure everything is in some semblance of order.” For one reason or another, she found this amusing and chuckled while stretching backwards, arching. “Think you can handle it?”
Alessa smiled, the prospect of work sounded good. “Sure,” she said, “You just give me a call and I’ll be here right away.” She had expected to start working right then but she doubted that Reah was up to it. She frowned again, Reah’s eyes didn’t look puffy but she certainly sounded like she needed some sleep, or at least some caffeine. “So, if you don’t have to do anything right now… why don’t we go to have a cup of coffee or something? You look as if you need it.” she added with a smile. *Please, say yes, or at least get out of that damned desk!*
Reah frowned mid stretch and paused, lowering herself back into her seat properly. “Coffee?” she quizzed, checking the time. It was early! Or late… depending on how you looked at it. How long had she been there? However long it was, she was past caring.
But coffee?
To tell the truth she didn’t much feel like eating or drinking anything, let alone spending time out in the public eye to be judged. It was clear, though, that Alessa was determined to pull her away from the desk for one reason or another. She might as well humour her.
But no coffee.
“To be brutally honest,” Reah began with a heavy sigh, “I don’t have much of an appetite at the moment. That and I’ve got some plumbing to take a look at in the basement.” She smiled confidently, standing up behind the desk. “But thanks for the offer.” Reah walked around the furniture’s edge and found her legs a bit shaky, but it soon passed.
Alessa nodded. She knew when she was dismissed, and she wasn’t going to intrude any more into the woman’s life; at least she had got her moving. “No problem,” she smiled, “there will be plenty of opportunity if we are to work together.”
They hadn't talked about money or schedules or anything like that, but there would be plenty of opportunities for that too. This didn’t seem to be the best moment. Besides, as she had said to Nikolai, she didn’t really need the money, mostly the distraction.
“Well, if you don’t need me I’ll take my leave then.” She doubted, however, “You’re sure you don’t need me, right?”
“Preeetty sure!” Reah’s lips pressed in a forced smile. She hadn’t thought that she may have come across a tad bitchy then, but she was just too intent on being alone that she didn’t really care if she had!
A twinge of guilt started to nag at the back of her mind, however, forcing herself to soften the blow. Assure Alessa she hadn’t done anything wrong to offend her. “How about you come back tomorrow? There’s always something here to do. Even if it’s just getting to know the place and what not. That’s probably the most important thing… You being comfortable and confident.”
The demoness just smiled, this Reah was strange but she was all right. She liked her. “That sounds like a plan,” she stretched her hand at her, grinning, “Boss.”
Reah sniffed, reaching out to accept the woman's hand in a firm shake. "That is does."
Galen Finds Out
***Tuesday, 13 March 2007 – 5:02pm – Kate and Galen’s House***
Tash glanced at the clock on the wall. She'd been here almost fifteen minutes and Kate still hadn't come to the point. She'd been quite insistent on the phone that she needed to talk, urgently, and Tash had dropped everything to rush over. Now she sat, watching Kate grow more and more flustered, obviously incredibly upset but not looking like coming to the point anytime soon.
"No, thanks," she said, trying to keep the growing impatience out of her voice, "It's okay Kate, I don't need another cup of coffee. No... no tea either, thanks. ...No, I don't want a glass of water. Look, you called me here for a reason. Sooner or later you're going to have to stop procrastinating and tell me why."
Kate forced herself to sit down opposite Tash but couldn’t help fidgeting a bit as she thought about what she was going to say. *Oh gods, maybe this is a mistake,* she thought worriedly. She had no idea how Tash was going to react; what if she despised her for what she’d done… what if she would never talk to her again? *Don’t be stupid,* Kate scolded herself firmly, *Tash is your friend, a good friend, she wouldn’t do that… would she?*
“I know,” she said eventually, barely able to look Tash in the face, she felt so embarrassed and ashamed of herself. “And… and… thank-you for coming round so quickly, I mean, I know you must be busy what with training and-” Kate stopped mid-sentence as she clocked the patient but slightly exacerbated look on Tash’s face.
“Okay, I know, stop procrastinating,” she said meekly. There wasn’t going to be an easy way to say this no matter how she dressed it up. “You know Galen and I have been having problems lately, I mean we talked a few days ago and things seemed to be going well but since then, well they took a bit of a turn for the worse.” *To say the least.*
“Well we kind of had a bit of an argument…” Kate said tentatively, *Also an understatement!* “A, really bad argument, um, and things were said, really unpleasant things…”
Tash's face fell. “Have you had a chance to talk to each other after the argument? Usually these things flare up out of silly little things that really don’t matter. Perhaps now that it’s blown over you can patch things up again?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or has Galen just withdrawn from you again after that? I could give him another talking-to, if you want.” *More like an asskicking,* she thought.
Kate’s face twisted into a painful grimace at Tash’s words. They had made up, sort of, that was part of the problem. If he’d continued to be acting so cold and aloof as he had been at least then she’d feel less guilty about what she’d done.
“It’s not really like that, well that’s not why I need to talk to you.” She paused, taking a deep breath to clear her nerves, not that it helped much. “After the, the argument I kind of walked out. I was just so upset and, and angry and hurt… I didn’t know what to do and well, I just wanted to talk to someone you know?”
Kate closed her eyes in frustration, this explanation was just making things more complicated and she knew it. “I… I kind of, I slept with someone.”
"Oh? ... Oh!" Tash blinked in surprise. She didn't really think Kate was the type to 'sleep around' like that... but then, her relations with Galen had been rather strained of late and stress and grief did strange things to people. "Oh... uh, who? Well, no, I guess that's really not my business, is it? Um... Sorry, it's just a bit of a shock. I take it Galen knows, then? That's what you argued about?"
Kate fidgeted awkwardly, completely riddled with embarrassment. It was obvious Tash had been shocked by her blunt statement and she couldn’t really blame her.
“Not really,” Kate replied nervously, “I mean… Galen doesn’t know yet… oh god Tash, this is all such a mess! I mean I was upset and, and I don’t know! Galen said such awful, horrible things and I just couldn’t take any more…” She hung her head dismally. “I always wondered if there was something I could have done to prevent Emma dying, I should have noticed sooner that she was ill, I should have been able to heal her. It drove me crazy thinking such things but… but what do you do when the man you love more than all the world thinks those things too? When he turns all the worst things you ever thought about yourself back onto you?”
Tash sighed. Ever since Victor's - well, 'death' wasn't really the right term, but it was the best she had. Ever since Victor's death, Tash had been finding it harder and harder to deal with everyone else's problems. She dug into her reserves and brought out compassionate Tash once more, but the walls she’d been slowly building for months were making that more difficult to do each time. Part of her just wanted to be left alone, to grieve for her lost love. But she did appreciate having the distraction of her friends from time to time, and really it was only fair that she be there for them when they were suffering. She just wished their suffering weren’t so constant.
She bent her thoughts to Kate’s latest issue and replied, “Kate, Emma wasn’t attacked by any otherworldly creature. She got a disease. A very human disease. I’m sure every mother of a dead child wonders if there was something more they could have done. You did the best you could, and so did Galen. There’s nothing more anyone could ask. You both need to forgive yourselves for that. But as for the affair…?”
Tash shook her head. “I know it’s hard, but I don’t think you should hide it. I mean, what if Galen found out anyway? That’d be so much worse. It won’t be easy, and things probably won’t ever be the same between you again, but it’s between you both now anyway, whether he knows about it or not. You still know.”
“I know…” Kate admitted quietly. It had been eating her up inside as it was. Galen had been so nice to her yesterday too, which had only made the guilt she felt worse. Kate closed her eyes tiredly, trying to clear her head, it was all just… why had she done it? Why? As if things weren’t bad enough coping with Emma’s death and…
“God I feel so stupid!” she exclaimed wearily, “I was just so lonely and Damen was so nice and kind… and he listened to me and I was just supposed to be waiting for Koyla, I mean he should have been there… oh god! Why didn’t I just leave?”
“Damen?” Tash blurted. “As in Reah and Damen? Oh, God, that’s a nasty mess.” She offered Kate what she hoped looked like a supportive smile. “I don’t know, Kate. I… like I said, grief and stress does strange things, and if you’d just had a fight with Galen, well… I guess you just latched onto whatever comfort you could find. The human psyche doesn’t always make our smartest choices.” She stopped for a second, a speculative look on her face. “You’re not in love with Damen or anything like that, right?”
****
Galen opened the back door noiselessly. He’d noticed Tash’s bike in the driveway and wanted to avoid the inevitable lecture he was no doubt going to get if she caught him. He guessed Kate had called Tash to have a chat the way women do – tell her how much of an idiot he’d been lately. He didn’t mind, in fact he figured it was probably best to get it all out into the open, he’d been pretty damn stupid, said some incredibly nasty things… it was going to take a while for Kate to realise that he was sorry.
He smiled tentatively as he slung his coat on the back of a chair quietly and placed down his briefcase. He’d finally managed to talk the Chief round to putting him on active duty again, starting in a couple of weeks after he’d spent a good amount of time with his wife. He looked down at the bunch of flowers he held in his hand and smiled again… he just hoped it would all be enough.
****
“Love?” Kate said in surprise at Tash’s question. “God no, I don’t even like him all that much, I mean if it hadn’t been for the fact that I was supremely drunk I would never… NEVER…” She paused suddenly, realising something else that Tash had said, “Reah? Reah and Damen? … … Oh, my, God… you don’t mean that she… and he?”
“Well, yeah. Reah and Damen have been…” *rutting like goats* “…seeing each other for a little while. But I think it’s more of a casual thing with them. Look, Kate… it was one of those things, right? You had a fight with Galen, you got drunk, you went and bonked some guy. I mean, it’s bad, but not insurmountable. Just talk to him about it. It’ll probably take him a while before he can forgive you, but it’s better than having him find out some other way.” Tash sighed, wishing that her friends led less complicated lives.
The smile on Galen’s face suddenly drained away as he heard Tash’s words, the bunch of flowers that he had been holding slowly slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.
“You’re right,” said Kate, rising to her feet a little nervously, “You’re right, I w-will tell him. I have to…”
“I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?”
Kate felt herself frozen to the spot as Galen slowly appeared from the direction of the kitchen, his face contorted with several conflicting emotions - anger, betrayal, pain, sadness, disappointment, disbelief… She wondered how much he had heard, how she could not have sensed that he was there. *Because you were too caught up in your own emotions, you couldn’t think straight.*
“Galen…” she said slowly, her eyes locking on his as he continued to stare at her in an unrelenting manner. She shook her head in disbelief; the look on his face said it all, he’d heard more than enough. “Galen…” she said again, “Oh… no, no…”
Galen’s face crumpled under the weight of his mixed feelings, his forehead creasing in confusion and the desire for everything to just be one big misunderstanding. “You had sex with, with Damen… Kirk?” he stated in bewilderment, “…W-what?” His eyes turned on an awkward looking Tash before returning to his wife. Any doubt in his mind was removed by that look of complete guilt in her eyes.
The silence was deathly and Kate watched the confusion and disbelief play out wordlessly across her husband’s face. Then he shook his head and turned, moving to leave.
“NO! Galen, please! Wait!” Kate cried after him desperately, running and throwing herself in his path between him and the door. “Please… wait,” she begged, “You have to listen to me, it, it was a mistake, a mistake! I was drunk, I, I didn’t know what I was doing… you have to believe me I never wanted any of this to happen!”
“Kate get out of my way,” Galen ordered, his voice brittle with barely controlled anger.
“No… I won’t,” Kate moaned pathetically, holding her position even more firmly, “You can’t leave like this, not without giving me a chance to explain!”
Shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, Tash wished to be anywhere but here. She really didn’t need to see Kate and Galen’s marriage fall apart right in front of her eyes, and the last thing they needed was an audience.
“Uh, look… I think it’s best if I just leave now. Let you work this out together. I’m… you can phone me later, either of you, or both of you, if you need to…”
“I think your leaving Tash, is an excellent idea,” Galen replied, not removing his stony gaze from Kate for a moment.
Tash instantly bridled at Galen's tone, then had to remind herself that the man had just found out his wife had cheated on him. Treading as quietly as she could, Tash made her way to the back door, since Kate still stood resolutely before the front door.
As she left the front room she cast a wry smile over her shoulder at Kate, hoping that things wouldn't go too badly here, but fearing the worst. Retrieving her bike she rode slowly down Birch Street, feeling a strange mixture of concern and relief. Concern for her friends, but relief at being out of that situation. *Though it'd be interesting to be a fly on the wall about now,* she thought, wondering what was happening in the Eldridge household now.
“So what is there to explain?” Galen asked bitterly, hearing Tash’s motorbike revving up in the street outside.
Kate looked up at him sadly, tears already gathering in her eyes. “Galen I… I love you...”
“Oh please,” scoffed Galen, throwing his hands up in the air. “You disgust me.” Galen paused momentarily, watching that look of hurt wash over Kate before turning and heading in the direction of the kitchen. If Kate was intent on stopping him leaving through the front door, hell he would just follow Tash’s lead.
“No,” said Kate determinedly, rushing after Galen as he marched towards the kitchen. “No! You are not leaving here until we’ve talked about this!” She pointed at the back door just as Galen had opened it and a ripple of telekinetic energy sliced through the air, yanking the handle out of Galen’s hand as the door slammed shut, the lock turning with an audible click.
Galen looked on in alarm, quite caught off guard by the wave of anger that had permeated from Kate. He was not accustomed to her using magic in such a way, though he knew her powers were closely related to her emotions; there had been many a time when objects had gone flying across a room while they made love.
He shook his head free from those thoughts, feeling his own anger flare at her using her powers on him. "Kate, open this door now.”
“No…” Kate said again weakly, her resolve waning somewhat in the face of her husband’s absolute hatred. “You k-keep on running a-away from us and I, I won’t let you this time.”
“Running away?” Galen asked, his voice turning suddenly calm as he walked slowly towards Kate. “Well I may run away,” he said steadily, advancing on his wife and forcing her to stumble backwards until she hit the edge of the kitchen table, “but at least I don’t go around fucking the first person I see as soon as things go wrong!”
Galen slammed his fist down hard on the table, making her jump in response. “Do you know what that makes you Kate?” he asked quietly, leaning in close, his eyes looking at her with a mixture of disgust and anguish. “In my book that makes you a whore… …a cheap, dirty little whore.”
Kate cringed at Galen’s hate-filled words, unable to look at him as he drew back from her, slinking away while raking his hands through his hair in distress. Kate could feel a sob rising up inside her chest, her earlier determination deserting her entirely. She was barely able to hold back her tears as the cruelty in Galen’s voice cut through her like a knife.
Silence filled the room.
“I am not a whore,” she said quietly but firmly after a moment had passed.
Galen turned away, painfully aware of what effect his words had had on Kate. He could see the hard look in her eyes as she stared back at him, doing a good job at looking unaffected but he could see the torment deep inside and in his own heart he felt a twinge of remorse for being so wilfully hurtful.
“Then you do a good impression,” he replied quietly, his voice still devoid of emotion. “Now, open the door.”
Kate sat down at the table and watched tiredly as Galen turned and began pulling on the door handle, not that it made any difference, the door was sealed with magic and would be until she decided otherwise.
“I love you Galen,” she said sadly, her eyes becoming glazed as she stared into the distance. “What happened with Damen Kirk was a mistake. I was hurt by the things you said and I stupidly allowed myself to get drunk and taken advantage of. It wasn’t planned, it just happened.” She sighed deeply, “You have no idea how much I wish it hadn’t.”
Galen halted his attempts to open the door, turning his head a little but otherwise remaining completely motionless as Kate continued to talk.
“The next morning… I felt sick when I realised what had happened, what I’d done. I felt so dirty and ruined,” Kate’s eyes lowered, focusing on her hands in front of her as she tirelessly laced her fingers together nervously.
“I just had to get home and, and get rid of that feeling but it didn’t go, no matter h-how much I tried to scrub it away it was still there. Then you came home…” tears gently spilled from Kate’s eyes as she spoke, “… you were so kind, so apologetic. I wanted to tell you, I really did but… I just didn’t know how.”
Kate sniffled a little and wiped her tears away. “I just… I don’t know… I saw you and you seemed so happy, so like your normal self and… and that look in your eyes when you saw me. You looked at me like… like you loved me again. I didn’t want that to change, I just couldn’t bear for you to look at me…” slowly she returned her gaze to meet Galen’s, “…like you are now.”
Galen was silent for a long time, his eyes reflecting the loss and misery that he felt as he stared at his wife. She looked so small and weak as she sat at the table, like a little girl.
“How do you expect me to look at you?” he asked coolly after a while. “You slept with another man, you let him touch you, kiss you… make love to you…”
Kate looked up again sadly, slowly rising from her chair. “There wasn’t any love, Galen…” she said steadily, rolling back the sleeves of her sweater to show him the bruises imprinted on her arms, “Does that look like love to you?”
Galen glanced down at the ugly, blotchy marks on Kate’s pale flesh and grimaced slightly, running his fingers over her delicate wrists. “So what?” he began somewhat hesitantly. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you now? Get off on it did you? Him treating you like that?” He roughly dropped her arm, pushing her away.
Kate shook her head insistently; a look of horrified confusion in her eyes. “No, I don’t know what I was feeling… I just wanted you Galen…” she moved her hand to gently stroke his cheek, “I wanted you but you kept on pushing me away.”
A resentful gleam flashed through Galen’s features and he pushed Kate away again, harder this time. “So… it was my fault? I pushed you into Damen Kirk’s bed, I forced you to have sex with him-”
“That’s not what I meant!” Kate interrupted, hastily pulling the sleeves to her sweater back down.
“What are you doing Kate?” Galen asked in mock concern, suddenly grabbing hold of her and pulling at the sleeves again, “Don’t hide it, don’t hide the mark he put on you. Everyone must see what a victim you are and what a terrible, terrible husband I am for letting all this happen to you.”
“Stop it!” Kate cried in alarm, struggling to free herself from Galen’s grasp, “Stop it!”
“But you like it don’t you?” said Galen harshly, grabbing hold of Kate by her shoulders and pushing her back against the door, pressing his body hard against hers. “You like it rough don’t you? Maybe even a bit forced, against your will... is that what he did huh? Is that what you asked for? To be taken like the slut you are?”
“No…” Kate moaned, turning her head to one side to avoid the full force of Galen’s vitriol. “No, I didn’t, I didn’t even want him…”
“How can you even deny it?” he spat, his mouth only inches from her face. “To think…” Galen’s eyes suddenly clouded over with crippling grief, one hand reaching out to brush aside Kate’s hair but instead just hovering a little above her cheek, his fingers trembling as he beheld his wife, the woman he loved… how could she have betrayed him like this?
“I-I was so worried about you that night I-I couldn’t sleep…” he stammered, letting his fingers tangle in the lengths of her hair, turning his gaze to focus on the silky, scarlet tendrils, “and all that time you were in bed with another man. Doing things with him… letting him…” he had to pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to compose himself. Just the thought of another man touching her in the same places he touched her when they made love… it made him want to retch.
“And… yesterday…” he continued, fighting to hold back painful tears, “you let me go on and on, begging you to forgive me… You must have thought I was such a gullible fool.”
“No…” moaned Kate again, turning her head to meet his gaze. He was holding her so hard against the door; their bodies pressed so close she could feel his warm, ragged breaths against her face. “I didn’t want to hurt you, because… because I love you…”
“You wouldn’t even let me touch you, well at least now I know why. You must have been so afraid that I’d find out.”
Galen released his hold on her and Kate sank to the floor, crying pitifully and burying her face in her hands.
“Don’t start crying,” he warned her angrily, pulling out a chair and sitting down. “You don’t have the right to start crying now.”
Kate whimpered a little and wiped her damp eyes on her sleeve. “Of course I was afraid,” she replied meekly, “I was terrified… the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”
“Well it’s the only thing you seem capable of,” Galen shot back solemnly.
Kate felt like she was being held at the edge of a cliff. On one side she was ready to submit to her punishment, take every ounce of abuse Galen had to throw at her, just slip down into that dark place and take it. On the other side was a fiery rage, just waiting to be unleashed, bitter ire at his unfairness, at his seemingly gloating words as though she had done just what he’d always expected her to do.
Slowly she raised her head to face Galen, feeling his own hatred beating down upon her like the tails of a whip. “Well then…” she said numbly, rising to her feet, “you should thank me. Thank your whore for making things so much easier for you.”
Galen looked suddenly confused at her change of behaviour but felt glad that she’d decided to retaliate since he’d started to have the most premature twinges of pity for her. “What are you talking about?”
“Just admit it!” Kate cried, unshed tears gleaming with determination in her eyes. “You’ve been just waiting for an excuse to leave me for weeks now. Well I’ve given you the perfect reason, all laid out for you. Your wife is a cheap, dirty whore, isn’t that right?” she intoned bitterly, “So you can go… just leave now. It’s what you wanted after all isn’t it?”
“I never wanted any of this,” Galen said tiredly, Kate’s self-righteous tone further enraging him.
“Your problem is you don’t know what you want,” Kate moaned wearily. “You say you love me and then despise everything that I am. You stand here, playing the betrayed husband when these past few weeks I’ve had to put up with your abuse, your accusations, your injustice… well I’m sick of it too, how much am I expected to endure before I fall, Galen?”
“You’ve fallen already,” replied Galen bitterly. “As soon as you let that man put his hands on you, you broke every one of our marriage vows.”
“Then why are you still here?” Kate wept, tears rolling freely down her cheeks again as she held her head in her hands disheartenedly, “Why don’t you just leave me?”
Galen took a sharp in-drawn breath, feeling like he should say something but not knowing what.
“Just go…” said Kate wearily, opening the door for him and standing to one side. When he didn’t move she raised her down-turned head to look at him. “You want to leave then do it… now get out, GET OUT!” she shouted louder, surprising them both with her sudden rage.
As Galen crossed the threshold Kate slammed the door shut behind him, holding on to it for dear life as she felt her body tremble with sorrow. Slowly she slid to the floor; her face screwed up in pain as she collapsed into a flood of tears.
On the other side of the door Galen could hear Kate’s terrifying cries and sobs. It was so disturbing to hear he could barely move from his spot on the porch. His whole body seemed to be paralysed with… fear? Anger? He didn’t know what it was but a deep, dark pain seemed to nestle in the pit of his stomach and a worrying dizziness spread throughout his head.
*What have I done?* thought Kate numbly as she sat on the inside of the door, her chest heaving and trembling with the force of her sobs. She could feel Galen’s presence outside and she silently prayed for him to come back in, to take her in his arms and say that he forgave her. In her heart she knew it would never happen. Not now. Bitter tears of sorrow welled up in her eyes again, spilling down her raw cheeks.
Suddenly she noticed something on the floor by the archway into the living room. She slowly shuffled across the tiled floor and picked up the crushed bunch of flowers, petals showering the ground like confetti. Kate wiped at her eyes as she saw a small white card nestled between the flowers. Reaching inside she caught her finger on one of the rose thorns, her bright crimson blood dripping onto the card.
Sucking on her finger she slowly turned the card over, her eyelashes drooping at the short inscription scribbled inside.
A deep sigh escaped her lips as she ran her trembling fingers across the words; tears splashing down and making the inky letters blur into one another. Kate grasped the card close to her heart, wrapping her arms around her knees and tucking her head down into her lap as she quietly began to sob again.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday, March 13th
8:30 pm
The French restaurant was small and cosy, but very elegant. Either Connor - *James* - had done his homework and found the best French restaurant in town, or it had just been a lucky choice. However, the desired effect had been achieved, the place and the company were perfect and Inés felt splendid clad in one of her favorite dresses and with her wild hair tamed in a high chignon. She knew she looked her best, and she took pleasure in the looks she got from James.
She took a bite of the delicate chocolate gateau she was having and smiled at him. “I’m sorry you can’t have this, Connor, it’s delicious.”
James gave a half smile, “Oh, we can eat things and we can taste them, but the only problem is that a few hours after eating it, I have to force it back out again… the whole process involves a certain level of blood expenditure towards the thing so… I find it better just not to eat or drink at all.”
James looked at Inés and started to think about how he had lied. “Inés…about why I lied to you, I’m real really sorry, but I had done some very bad things and I had to lie low and-”
“Please, Connor, you don’t have to explain anything to me, I really don’t mind. Besides, Alessa told me all about it.” She shrugged, smiling. “And I think I’ll keep on calling you Connor anyway, I like it better.”
James smirked his signature grin and began to talk, "Well, it is my middle name so, yeah. Feel free. Just one problem. You know my full name but I don’t know yours, or am I gonna regret asking it?”
Inés’ hand froze in its way to her mouth. *My name? Is he joking?* she just stared at him. *He doesn’t know our customs, take it easy,* she said to herself as she rested the fork on the plate and thought of a way to answer to him. “What do you mean, my name? I’m Inés, Inés Montero.” She gave him a shaky smile, “I guess you aren’t asking for my demon name, are you?”
The smile on James’ face dropped like a stone. “Well, yeah, I was asking your demon name, but yeah, sorry if your tribe doesn’t have demon names or something like that-”
“Of course we have! It’s just… just...” Inés blushed and lowered her eyes, *he doesn’t know our customs,* she repeated to herself. “…that only the close kin knows them, it’s taboo to reveal our names out of that circle. I’m sorry.”
She wasn’t about to reveal that for a male to ask an unrelated female’s real name was also the Verbati’s equivalent to a marriage proposal. She smiled weakly, “For all that matters, Inés is my name.”
James smirked. “Aw, right, I get it now. Traditions are weird. I generally find it better to break traditions... well, the ones that don’t make sense anyway. That’s the whole reason I'm a vampire, because I refused to do what everyone else of my kind were doing.”
The demoness smiled sweetly at him but her tone was cold. “And who told you that my traditions didn’t make sense? Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, querido.”
Inés breathed deeply to soothe her irritation and decided to change the topic. She made a fluttering gesture with her hand in his direction. “And you should know by now that I’m not your very traditional Verbati or I wouldn’t be here sitting with a vampire and contemplating spending the night making him crazy with lust and pleasure.” She enjoyed the look of shock on his face and grinned mischievously.
James shook his head. “What makes you think I’m that kind of a gentleman?” he asked in a mocking tone. “So, how’s your cousin? Keeping good, I hope?”
Inés’ pleasant expression disappeared, she was really worried about Alessa. “No, actually. She isn’t.” At James’ concerned expression she went on. “Oh, she’s not hurting anymore, and her sickness is over, the coughing and fever, I mean. But she’s not… herself.”
Inés gave up trying to finish eating her dessert, her appetite had been soured, anyway. She made a helpless gesture, “You know Alessa, right? What kind of person would you say she is?”
James was perplexed by the question, but finally answered. “I suppose she is quite a happy person. Well, apart from the recent loss. She seemed to want to be friends rather than enemies. Basically she just treated me like I was a human rather than what I actually am.”
He saw the expression on Inés’ face. “Why? What’s up? Is she a bit moody or something? Because that’s to be expected after you’ve lost someone…”
Inés shook her head, if only it was only that…
“I know what you mean. She ought to be moody and down. As much as I disliked Chance, she loved him, and that would be understandable. She’s in mourning after all. But that’s not what worries me. You said it yourself, she was, is, basically, a good person.”
Inés bit her lower lip, and in that little gesture she looked just like her cousin. “Lately, she hasn’t been acting like herself, good I mean. She’s selfish, bitchy and… and I’ve sensed some meanness in her that wasn’t there before.” Last night’s conversation was clear in her mind and she still hurt at some of Alessa's words.
James nodded to what Inés was saying. “I suppose you are right. She shouldn’t be taking anything out on you, which I assume she has, but she’s probably just angry at the world. But like I said, don’t let her tread all over you just because of her loss. It just allows her to do it next time.”
James looked at Inés' worried face and gave a devilish grin. “How about we do something to take your mind off all this unpleasantness, petal?”
She loved when he smiled like that, she thought as she answered his grin. With some effort, she focused on her date again. She would think about Alessa later; after so many days nursing her cousin, she deserved some fun. Maybe she could talk to Ellis about it too, he’d probably be able to help her, although maybe that wasn't the wisest course of action either... *Enough with that!* That night she would put all her energies in enjoying herself.
“Oh, well, we could resume my initial plan of action… but I forgot you weren’t that kind of a gentleman…” she mocked.
James grinned at Inés. “Oh, I'm sure you could take advantage of me when I’m drunk, being the lightweight drinker that I am.”
Inés wrinkled her nose and affected disgust. “And watch you when you… how did you put it? Force it back? No thank you,” she grinned, taunting. “I’d rather have you sober.”
***
Hilton Hotel
9:32 pm
“Welcome to my home, amor,” she said, as she opened her hotel room and turned to let him in.
“Your home?” he said, and raised an eyebrow, as he stepped inside. The big hotel suite didn’t look ‘lived’.
“Well, it was my home until I moved to Alessa’s to help her. And I’m still paying for it, so I guess the term still applies.” *I could be getting back in soon too,* she thought, as she closed the door and stretched her arms to hold him. “However, it’s the intention that counts, isn’t it?”
James smiled. “Well, yeah, I suppose. I was quite surprised I was able to enter the room without being invited. I couldn’t do that in your cousin’s home,” he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her lightly, “But of course, you are completely demon.”
James gave a devilish grin. “So, what’s the tub in this place like?”
Inés laughed before kissing him full in the lips, then she buried her face in his neck and spoke seductively in his ear.
“Very big.”
***
She was running. The thing behind her was getting near, trapping her. Panic mounted in her as she realized the falls were near and she didn’t have anywhere else to run. The monster, the monster was behind her. She faced it - it was huge. She morphed to emulate it, and it morphed yet again to something even worse. Who is it? Who is it and why is it doing this? The thing got to her, its claws ripping her arms as she tried to escape. She thrashed back, but the thing’s blows hit her hard on her head making her lose her form and fall to the ground. The monster laughed, a high, maniac laugh and loomed over her. Its head turned to its real form, she recognized it before losing consciousness. Raúl…
Her screaming woke him. James bolted in bed to see her sitting up, clutching the covers and screaming. Her eyes were open but unfocused. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently.
James looked at Inés as he held her. “Hey... hey, petal. Come on, you’re ok. It’s ok, you’re just having a nightmare." Inés eyes fluttered open and they where filled with tears. he could see that she was scared and embarrassed. “Inés... what were you dreaming about ...?"
Inés drew shuddering breaths as she tried to sort out what was real and what was part of the dream. She took his hands in hers and gripped with such strength that she saw him grimace. He was real, his comfort was real. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. She didn’t want to look at him, she was too mortified at him seeing like this, so vulnerable. Tears began to flow as the dream replayed itself in her mind.
James just held tightly onto Inés and he cursed himself. He was never able to handle people crying. All he could do was hold onto them and even then, he felt uncomfortable. So he just tried his best and shushed her and said things like "It’s all right, you’re safe," or "It’s all right, petal, you don’t need to tell me." But in truth James wanted to know, because at least then he could try and deal with the problem.
Finally, her breathing slowed and the shakes came less frequently. When she stilled against his chest he risked taking a look at her face. Her huge dark eyes were opened, just staring. James laid her back down on the pillow, still holding her close; then he tried again, his tone soothing as not to startle her into another outburst of tears.
“Will you tell me what it was about, love? You know you can tell me anything.”
Inés closed her eyes, thinking how to avoid his inquiring gaze, but when she opened them again she saw such concern in his blue depths that she couldn’t stop herself.
“When I was young I was… attacked.” She blushed and James didn’t have any doubt about the kind of attack she meant. “I… I’ve put it behind, but sometimes… I still dream about it.”
James looked deeply into Inés’ eyes and he knew what she meant. No one has recurring nightmares on how they got their ass beat down when they were kids.
James held even tighter on Inés, contemplating his next words. “Did they get who did it?”
She was silent so long that he thought she wouldn’t answer, then in a weak voice she started to talk, her eyes downcast. “He ran away. He was shunned from the tribe afterwards and I never saw him again.” She stopped talking again, pondering whether to tell him about Raúl being in LA.
James could sense she was holding something back from him, but he didn’t want to push her. “Inés, I just want you to know that you can tell me anything.” James lay back down in the bed and rolled over to his side to cradle his weeping lover.
“I know,” she said and burrowed in his arms once again, but she didn’t say anything else. She would tell him about Raúl. She knew she would, but she couldn’t do it just now. She shivered at the thought of her brother, but she the thought didn’t affect her as much as it had in the past. In Connor’s arms she felt safe. This had been the first time she had talked about her attack to anybody but Alessa; there was something in Connor that made her trust him. *You love him, silly,* she said to herself, and smiled, the feeling was as new to her as the sense of safety.
James felt her smile against his chest, and hugged her fiercely again. Then he eased his grip and moved her to the crook of his arm, kissing her forehead. After a while he sensed her relax in his arms, falling asleep. He kept stroking the richness of her hair and planting soft kisses on the top of her head.
He could see that she had been deeply hurt, not only physically, and he wanted to help her. James brushed a loose curl from her wet cheek; he wanted to have her with him all the time so she wouldn’t be harmed again, but he knew Inés was too independent to feel comfortable with such a situation.
“I love you,” he said softly to her sleeping face, and surprised himself with the words, but they were true. The warmth of the emotion spread in his heart, making him feel almost alive again. He rested his head the pillow, looking at the dark ceiling. “But you probably could never love me.”
Galen Talks to Daye
***Tuesday, 13 March 2007 – 6:45pm – Chinos Hills State Park***
Galen sat on the park bench where he’d spent many an afternoon recently. The brown paper bag in his hand was moulded around the small bottle of whisky despite his best efforts to conceal it. What did he care anyway if he was picked up for drinking in public? What was the worst that could happen? He’d be picked up by a couple of his buddies from the precinct, maybe thrown in the lock up for the night while he sobered up… a night sleeping in a police cell was preferable to the alternative right now.
His weary eyes scanned the darkening horizon. He really should find somewhere else to move to, it was getting late and that meant it wasn’t safe to be out. If the vampires and demons didn’t get to him then the street gangs probably would.
Still he felt like he was frozen to the spot. The sound of Kate’s voice, her pleading words and then her pitiful anger still echoed in his mind. And her tears, the sound of her sobbing on the other side of the door… it had all happened so quickly! And now… now he was left struggling to sort out his head, to cope with the weary myriad of conflicting emotions that were just raging through his heart. He shakily brought the bottle to his lips and drank deeply.
Daye was strutting. That was the only way to describe it. She'd dressed in one of her new outfits, encasing her body in skin tight black leather, with lots of interesting zippers, and strode out of the house without a backwards glance. For the last few days, she'd been avoiding Drew like the plague, although she'd started toying with the idea of helping him through his hang-ups. Sure he was fast becoming a world class prude, but he was a hot prude, and at this point, with a twist of magic, Daye could probably overcome his little morality issues easily. She was definitely giving it some thought.
Smiling at her own ingenuity, Daye veered into the park, scanning the shadows for some fun. If she could find a demon, or an early rising vampire, perhaps she could stir up something interesting. Daye was about to give up on the little patch of nature, when she caught sight of a familiar figure huddled up on an empty bench, with a paper bag clasped in his hands. Smiling in delight at her luck, Daye turned in his direction and strutted right over.
"Hey there, Detective," Daye's voice was husky as it broke the silence. "You sure you should be sitting there drinking alone?"
Galen looked up at the woman, his eyes opening wide as he took in her appearance. “Daye? …Wow…” was all he could manage to say as his eyes continued to stare at her curvaceous form perfectly outlined in tight black leather. She looked… so very UN-Daye like. “Sure you should be out dressed like that?” he shot back, taking another swig from his bottle. “Apart from the obvious you could give someone a heart attack.”
Daye laughed throatily, throwing back her head. "A heart attack?" she echoed. "What an interesting compliment. Thank you, Galen, I think I'll be flattered, despite your disapproval. And as for my clothes, well, they are mine, and therefore my business."
Daye studied Galen for a moment, cocking her head to one side. *Poor, poor man,* she thought. *He really needs to relax.* "So, why are you out here alone, drinking like a common street person?" Daye asked. "Taking a breather? I guess it's hard to just be at your place lately." Daye paused. "Are you okay, Galen?"
Galen laughed morosely, taking yet another swig from the bottle and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Hard? You have no idea…” mumbled Galen, half talking into his bottle as he took another drink. As for that last question… okay? Galen didn’t think he would ever be ‘okay’ ever again.
Daye slid down onto the bench next to Galen, laying a hand on his shoulder. She could feel the anger, sorrow, and desperation fuelling him through the touch and it echoed deep within her. Here was darkness, a deep frustration that could easily be turned twisted to satisfy certain needs, if she just found the right words, the right key.
"I can only imagine how this has been for you," Daye said softly, keeping her tone sympathetic. "I know everyone's been so there for Kate, but what about you? It doesn't seem like anyone's tried seeing things your way, Galen. I'm very sorry for that."
Galen looked up at Daye, a frown quickly spreading throughout his features. He’d said a similar thing to Kate, he’d always thought it was just his usual paranoia creeping in but… Daye had noticed it too? She was right as well, everyone was there for Kate, always ready to see her side of things, why did they never take his side? Why could nobody see what pain and torment he was in?
“Don’t worry about it,” he said bitterly, “I can take care of myself.”
Daye gently stroked Galen through the material of his jacket, rubbing his shoulder, sidling closer to his body on the bench. "You shouldn't have to take care of yourself Galen," she said. "You lost someone too. You were hurt too. You deserve our sympathy, our understanding... and you have a right to your feelings. All of them. Especially the anger."
Daye paused. "Who knows, maybe this isn't some random accident. Maybe this is because of Kate... who and what she is. Maybe... we don't know. And if that makes you mad... well, you're entitled. She's not a saint, or anything. Everyone is so busy tiptoeing around poor, fragile Kate. That's just crap. You deserve to be considered too. I know. I was doing the same thing the last time I saw you. I owe you an apology."
Galen could hardly believe what he was hearing, it was like Daye could read his thoughts and was saying them out loud. “You think…” he began warily, not really sure if he could rely on his senses right now. Maybe he’d misheard her and what he’d thought he’d heard wasn’t actually what she’d said. “You think that Kate being a witch might have- I mean, is that possible?”
Daye shrugged, careful not too push too far too fast. "I don't know... I'm just speculating," she said. "It's not impossible, right? I mean, how much do you know about magic? Cause I know a lot, and there are things... Things we do, things we allow to come in contact with us, our bodies, even our spirits, that could potentially be... dangerous. I'm no expert, not really. Kate is much stronger than I am, but look at Maia. She's the product of genetic manipulation and magic, and her very cellular structure contains elements of me, and Ryan, and Mother Mariah. I mean, that's what I left myself open to when I decided to devote my life to magic, you know. Maybe... just maybe Kate's been exposed to things too... dangerous things. Things with lasting effects."
*No, no, no!* thought Galen anxiously, it couldn’t be true… not after he’d convinced himself he was being irrational blaming Kate for Emma’s death. Everything he had said to her… blamed her for… it was absurd! Kate was right… magic was part of life and she’d never been mixed up in the kind of things Daye had… had she?
He held his head in his hands, squeezing them against the sides of his skull in exasperation. But why would Daye say such things if they weren’t true? She was Kate’s friend… her close friend… and she was a witch, she knew about these things – more than he did at any rate.
“No… no…” he moaned painfully, “Why are you saying these things?”
Daye fought down her triumphant smile and made a pitying noise, as she stood and moved to take the now distraught Galen in her arms. "Oh, you poor man, I... I'm sorry," she soothed. "I didn't mean to upset you more. I was just trying to help you, to let you know someone understands. Galen... I..." Daye let loose with a small sob. "I've made a mess of this too."
She patted his back gently and cried softly. "I should have left you alone."
Galen let Daye hold him gently, burying his face into her hair. She was so warm and comforting – he needed that now more than anything.
“No,” he muttered quietly, “I’m glad you’re here. I- I need someone to talk to…” he hesitated, not sure if he should tell anyone about what had happened. After all, it was so personal and he didn’t want it spread around as idle gossip. No matter how he felt about Kate, no matter what she’d done, he didn’t want her humiliated. But then… she’d told Tash, and there was every possibility that Nikolai knew. Daye was a friend, right now she felt like the only friend he had, and she seemed so understanding, so much on his side…
“Kate had an affair…” he said quietly, the words almost sticking in his throat, “She slept with another man! I don’t know what to do…”
Daye wanted to dance in triumph. Her luck really was with her. "Oh... oh, Galen... oh my Goddess," Daye pulled back to look into his stricken face. "Oh, how did you find out? When did this happen? Oh... I'm so sorry. Of course you need someone. This is terrible. I understand completely. If you want to talk..."
Daye glanced around at the now completely dark park. "Maybe we should go somewhere else, though."
Galen looked desolate, he didn’t know what to do, couldn’t feel anything except this terrible hurting pain. “I heard her talking to Tash about it… she, she was deciding whether or not she should tell me… OH GOD!!” He stood up angrily, hurling the now empty bottle off into the darkness with ferocious rage. “I should… I should… Oh god, I don’t know what I should do! I just feel so angry… at her, at him… at myself… I’m so stupid!”
"Now, now," Daye said sternly. "That's enough of that. You are not going to punish yourself for Kate's indiscretions. She made the mistake, not you. You're the victim, remember."
Daye took Galen's hands and cradled them in her own. She stood so that she was face to face with him, very close in. "I'm very sorry for all that's happened. I can't imagine how devastated you are. On top of everything else, this was the last thing you needed to find out."
"Please, let's go somewhere where we can talk, Galen," Daye urged gently. "I... I want to help you."
“Anywhere,” said Galen quietly, “so long as it isn’t home.”
Daye smiled softly, emanating understanding and patience. "Of course not..." She paused, looking thoughtful. "There's the shop, or my... well, my old apartment. I've been subletting it, but the tenants just moved out last week, so..." *When I evicted them,* Daye thought to herself.
"We could go there, and talk. It would be more comfortable, and safer."
“Safe…” echoed Galen numbly, barely able to speak after his rash revelations about the state of his marriage. Kate had betrayed him… slept with another man… Damen Kirk of all people! That was all he could think about right now. “Lead the way.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 13th, 2007- Local Supermarket- 3:30 pm***
Adriana walked down the aisles of the local supermarket, pushing the cart of groceries in front of her. She grabbed a few frozen pizzas and threw them into the cart. The Lautari girls never liked cooking, and frozen dinners were a gift from God to them.
Drea pushed the cart up to a cash register, where the only person in front of her was a lanky teenager. She glanced at him only once before she returned to her thoughts about getting home before she had to work.
Adriana then looked at who was in front of her again and her heart skipped a beat. It was Cole.
The kid had seen Drea even before she had stepped into line, but had hoped she wouldn’t notice. Just his luck, she had picked the register he was at.
“Hurry up ok, I’m in a hurry,” he complained to the cashier - poor girl, it was only her second day on the job.
“You don’t look old enough to be buying these,” she said warily, holding the pack of Joe Camel.
“Just scan them, will you?” he barked, twiddling his fingers discreetly, as he bewitched the girl. A moment later, he had what he wanted and was headed for the exit.
Adriana’s large brown eyes fixated on Cole. As he was rushing out, she quickly pushed her cart up to the register and told the now confused girl, “Bag my stuff, I’ll be back in a minute.”
Drea moved around her cart and ran up to Cole, despite her being a horrible runner. She grabbed his shoulder and whipped him around. Her curious eyes surfaced as she questioned him intently, “Cole, where have you been? Darian’s been worried sick about you!”
“Yeah well, his problem not mine,” he snapped, before turning his back to her. “Now leave me alone.”
She looked at him angrily. “You must be on some serious drugs to think that I will just leave you alone just because you told me to! What the hell has got into you?” Drea spat at him, her soft eyes quickly turning sour.
Cole halted in his tracks and whirled around, a sinister smile plastered across his young face. “Do you honestly believe you could stop me from leaving if I really wanted to?” he laughed, sending a chill down Drea’s spine. “I don’t need you or your boyfriend watching over me any more, is that understood?”
Adriana had the urge to slap him across the face, but she held back. “Don’t talk to me like that! You think you’re bad, just ‘cause you ran away from Darian? Well, in modern society we call that ‘being too much of a pussy to face your problems’,” Drea angrily snapped at him.
Her stinging words caught the boy off guard. Why had he run away? Darian had been so good to him, and making him worry like this was totally underserved. These moments of clarity however always passed in a blink of an eye as Delancre’s virus would once again take hold of the boy’s fragile being.
“Don’t presume to think what I’m like, bitch, cause you have no idea what I’m capable of.”
She didn’t know how much longer she could keep her temper down. Drea heard of her family’s bad tempers; hell, she was even at the butt end of one of her grandmother’s. But she managed to keep it down, but barely.
“Yeah, I’ve heard about what you can do. Sent you right into a coma one time, another time it worked so well that you were captured by Morris and his lackeys. You better keep watch yourself, kid. Yup, Darian told me all about that. You don’t wanna mess with my people, Cole. We always manage to fuck over people’s lives, and I happen to like you and care about you, so don’t fuck with me,” Adriana threatened him.
“Ouuuuuuuu,” he trembled sarcastically, “The gypsy girl is angry. I better watch out in case she throws a tarot card at my head.” The smile disappeared from his face, a dark scowl taking its place.
“You think you scare me? Your kind’s parlors tricks are barely above stage magic; a retard could probably do that stuff. Me on the other hand,” he added, tracing a rune into the air, its invisible power locking Adriana in place, “I can do the real shit.”
Cole winked and began to walk away. “It’ll wear off in a few minutes,” he called back jovially, pleased with his handiwork. “And give the D-Man a big hello for me will you?”
Adriana focused her eyes on Cole. She didn’t want him to leave so quickly, and knowing teenage boys there was o so much bottled up rage just waiting to be released.
“Look at the bad boy of LA, walking away from a mere gypsy. Doesn’t have enough balls to stand up to one. Just casts a ‘gypsy’ spell and suddenly he thinks he’s the greatest mage in the fucking world. Please. I don’t know which Romani you’ve met, but one of these days you’ll meet one that’ll whip your ass around LA. I’m not saying it’ll be me, but there are some very powerful Romani out there. So go on with your rookie spells and walk around thinking you’re hot shit. Fate has a way of biting you in the ass, kid,” she told him, her blood boiling. Adriana never was so nasty, but when it came to her people, it was a boundary that was never meant to be crossed.
“Rookie?” he chuckled, “I’ve just been signed to the major leagues, sweetie, wait and see.”
daye seduces galen
***Tuesday, March 13, 2007 around 8 pm***
***Daye’s Apartment***
Daye held onto Galen's hand the whole way to the apartment, not talking, but offering comfort. She was thrilled by the possibilities that lay ahead for the night. If she played this right, she could surely get Galen to cooperate, and with his emotions in turmoil maybe she could tap into the frustration and fury he was filled with.
As soon as they got inside the apartment, Daye locked the door behind them and led Galen into the living room. The room was dark and Daye figured that was better, so she only turned on the one small lamp visible on the table by the window, casting pale light on the room. It was decorated sparsely, with only the plush sofa and the one table in the living room. Daye had only moved back in a couple of days before and hadn't had time to really set up anything more than the couple of pieces of furniture she'd had a chance to order. There were boxes in the other room that would be taken out in the next day or so. She was planning on using the apartment as an office, now that she'd decided to hire her magical services out.
Daye led Galen to the sofa and settled him down on it, sitting beside him in the near dark.
"Galen, are you all right?" she asked. "Can I get you something? There's not much here, but I might have some... Whiskey. I have some good Irish Whiskey in the cabinet."
“No…” began Galen, glancing around the apartment nervously, something just felt… not right, a bit off but with all the other thoughts in his head right now he couldn’t figure out what it was. “I mean I’m all right, I just… I think maybe I’ve had enough to drink tonight. Maybe we could just talk?”
*That would have been too easy,* Daye thought, nodding sympathetically. "Sure, Galen, of course we can. I'm here to listen. Go ahead. Please, tell me how you're feeling. Tell me if there's anything I can do to help you through this."
Daye sat very close to Galen, her hand on his arm, stroking comfortingly. She made sure that her body pressed into him.
“Well I…” Galen swallowed hard, more than a little unnerved by Daye’s close proximity; he could actually feel her body moving against him as she breathed, her breasts crushing against his arm. “I don’t really know how to begin… I love her Daye, I was… I was trying, you know? Trying to give things another go. We had a fight you see? A really bad fight, I said- well I said some horrible things to her and she ran out. I felt so bad, so guilty… I just wanted to beg her to forgive me and then- Well then I find out she was sleeping with this other guy! Letting him… oh god, I can’t even think about what they did together… it makes me feel sick.”
He screwed up his eyes tightly and ran his hands through his hair in frustration, “I just want things how they were before- well before…” He let his sentence dwindle into silence as he just held his head in his hands, fighting to keep his breathing steady and even. It was like he was being torn in two. He loved Kate, and he hated her for what she’d done. He was so furiously angry… and yet he felt numb with pain and regret.
Daye knew she had to be very careful here. Potentially she could blow the whole thing right now.
"I know," Daye said softly. "Of course you want things to be the way they were, but... oh, Galen, there's no way to go back. You have to move forward. You have to stop blaming yourself. You have to stop punishing yourself. And you can't let Kate punish you either. This is not your fault, certainly. You're just a man, a normal man, and you've been trying for so long to get along in this world that people like Kate and I live in. It's understandable that you might be in over your head sometimes. Don't think for a minute though that you did something wrong here. It's not your fault Kate made the choices she's made. You didn't do anything wrong here, she did. That may be hard to hear, but it's true... Isn't it?"
“Yes,” agreed Galen reluctantly, “I suppose so… but things have been difficult lately and that’s just putting things mildly! She and I… oh I don’t know, I can’t think straight! I love her and yet, at the same time…” He clenched his fists tightly, “Why? Why did she do it?”
"Maybe... maybe she just wanted to forget," Daye suggested, reaching up to stroke his neck, while her body pressed ever closer to his on the sofa. Her voice was a husky whisper. "Maybe, for a little while, she just wanted to do something mindless, something selfish, something that wasn't about Emma or you and her, something that was just for her, just for Kate. Can't you maybe understand how that might be? Don't you feel like doing the same sometimes?"
Galen’s mouth hung open a little as Daye pressed her body against him even harder, touching the back of his neck in a most intimate manner. “I er…” he stammered, breathing a little heavier at their close proximity. “I don’t know… I like to get away sometimes, just be on my own… it helps me to think.”
Daye laughed softly, bringing her hand up to stroke his cheek drawing his gaze to her. "Maybe you think too much, Galen," she whispered. "If you just let go once in a while, you might feel a whole hell of a lot better."
Galen swallowed again, not really noticing how he had backed away somewhat into the sofa in response to Daye’s gentle touch. “Maybe… I’m not really the let loose sort of guy,” he said tensely, trying to act casually in compensation for Daye’s overly familiar behaviour. Was it his imagination or was she coming on to him big time? “Kate, sh-she said it was because I, because I pushed her away, he- he made her feel wanted, needed…”
"Of course, everyone wants to feel... wanted," Daye emphasized the last word as she cupped his cheek gently. "Don't you need that too, Galen?"
“I do…” he began cautiously, hardly able to remove his eyes from Daye’s. She seemed to ooze sensuality, her leather clad body pressing hard against his own, her hands gently touching his face… he could think of a million guys who would think they’d died and gone to heaven to be in such a position.
“I need it very much,” he said breathlessly, his arms slowly moving around to caress the perfect curves of her waist and hips. He could feel his heart beating furiously at the new thoughts marching through his head. Surely he was misreading the situation; Daye always seemed quite satisfied with her life with Drew and Maia, why would she come on to him?
Daye's lips curled up in a delighted smile. "I know," she said, bringing her mouth to his. She whispered against his lips. "I know what you need, Galen."
Daye covered his mouth with her own, caressing, seducing. Inside she shouted in triumph at his response.
Galen could barely believe what was happening as Daye crushed her mouth against his, her lips and tongue exploring his, slowly at first and then more furiously as he wrapped his arms more tightly around her writhing body, his hands tangling in her long, silky hair. He felt like his skin was on fire at the sensations she was arousing deep within his loins, such desperate longings, frantic desire… oh god! He broke away momentarily, his head spinning at the turn of events and he breathed heavily with lustful passion as he pressed his mouth back against hers, letting his hands rake over her luscious curves, moaning in appreciation against her skilled tongue.
It had been weeks since he and Kate had … been intimate - in any sense of the word. He hadn’t really noticed just how frustrated he’d become in that time until now, pawing at Daye’s body like a man dying of thirst. It just felt so good; the touch of her hands, the warm, moist feel of her mouth as they kissed… so good.
Daye exulted in Galen's ready surrender. Her body burned with lust and she gave that lust free rein. She grabbed hold of his hands and brought them to the zipper nestled between her breasts, as she began to pull his tie loose with her free hand.
Between wet, fevered kisses she whispered against his mouth, urging him to give in to the hunger she knew was gnawing at them both.
“Ummmmm,” Galen moaned as she went for the zipper of his pants, no longer playing the coy little girl act, whispering obscenities into his ear. He’d never realised she was into such kinds of things… the kind of things she was urging him to do to her, she certainly didn’t seem the type. Daye was the cheery motherly type, always a smile on her face… one of his wife’s best friends… He frowned suddenly, *Kate… is this how she felt when she cheated on me?* he thought morbidly, and then another image flashed into his mind - Daye and Drew… and Maia… one big happy family…
Suddenly he pulled away, pushing Daye back firmly. “Why…” he panted breathlessly, “Why are you doing this?”
Annoyance flashed across Daye's mind. *He's thinking again. Damn!*
Daye pulled back carefully, putting on a hurt, confused expression. "I told you, Galen, I want to help," she said softly. She kept her hands on his chest, and she was all but straddling him on the sofa. "I can see what you need and I want to give it to you."
Daye brought tears to her eyes. "What's wrong? Don't you want me?"
“No…” Galen replied suddenly, “I mean, yes, I mean…” She had to ask that question didn’t she? Where if the answer was no that meant she was unattractive and if the answer was yes then he had to sleep with her! “What I meant was,” he said, taking a deep breath, “…well… Kate is your best friend, how- how can you do this? Coming on to me… I’m her husband…” he turned away anxiously, unable to look at Daye any more. “If she found out she’d be devastated.”
Galen couldn't have been playing this better if she'd scripted it for him. Daye wanted to laugh with delight. Instead, she gently placed her hand on his cheek bringing his gaze back to her and said, "The way you were when you found out about her affair. She let you overhear her talking about it with Tash. She didn't even have the decency to be honest with you after she'd broken your wedding vows."
Daye injected just the right amount of outrage into her tone. She let the fire of her anger for him shine in her eyes. "I guess I didn't think Kate had anything to do with this. I want you, Galen. I thought you wanted me. What's happening is about that, not anything else. Can't you just let me take care of you for a little while? Can't we leave the rest of the world outside?"
Daye smiled shyly and leaned forward until her mouth hovered just above his, but she didn't kiss him. She waited, all patience and understanding.
Galen didn’t notice he was holding his breath until he let a long sigh escape his lips. Leave the rest of the world outside… he really wished he could do that and not for just one night either. “I…” he said quietly, not really sure what he was going to say. Daye’s words seemed to make so much sense. Kate was all ready to lie to him; if he hadn’t walked in when he did then he might never have found out about her sordid little affair.
She had broken every promise, every pledge that they had ever made to one another, and what for? One dirty night of drunken sex with Damen Kirk?
But there was still something else that was bothering him, something he couldn’t put out of his mind. He had been hurt and so he was getting his revenge by doing the same, but there was someone in all this who was completely blameless… someone who didn’t deserve to get hurt in the crossfire.
“And Drew?” he asked tentatively, her mouth only tempting inches away from his own.
Daye sighed inwardly. *Why does getting laid always have to be such work?*
Putting on an air of melancholy introspection, Daye pulled back. She turned and looked away from Galen. She trembled slightly. "Drew?" her voice was full of sorrow. "We... he... He wants to take a break. I don't know... he said he wasn't satisfied."
As she spoke her words became fainter, tinged with embarrassment. She turned and glanced down at Galen. "I don't know... I must not have..."
Daye pulled away, standing. She stepped away from the sofa, looking scared and confused. "I'm sorry. This isn't your problem. I shouldn't have brought you here..."
Daye's voice trailed off and she looked ready to bolt.
Galen sat on the sofa alone, feeling cold now that the warmth of Daye’s body had left him. His head still spinning but this time with confusion. “I’m sorry Daye,” he said quietly, rising to his feet and walking over to where she stood, placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. “I… I didn’t know. Drew is a fool, he doesn’t know what he’s throwing away.”
Daye's shoulders shook with quiet sobs at Galens words. She turned towards him, nestling her body against his. "Maybe he's right," she said in a choked voice. "Maybe I am dull. I don't know. You don't want me either."
“That’s not true,” he said softly, wiping away her tears with his shirtsleeve. He suddenly looked embarrassed, “I mean… you’re not dull, you’re a very vibrant, passionate woman… I know men who would sell their mothers if it meant you’d give them a passing glance. I mean… look at you… you’re gorgeous!”
Daye wanted to laugh out loud. She was so in control of this situation, and the time for talking was at an end.
Daye raised her face to his, a tremulous, disbelieving smile on her lips. "Oh, Galen... no... I mean," she shook her head slightly, but pressed closer to him, sighing. "That's very kind of you."
Daye stretched up and brought her mouth within inches of his. "Thank you," she said, pressing her lips gently to his at first and then with more force, more passion.
Galen groaned in both surprise and desire as once more Daye descended upon him, lips and tongue merging with his own in zealous abandonment. This time all protest was driven from his mind as she pushed him back down towards the couch, straddling him again and working on the clothing that she had begun to remove the first time.
Daye felt the fight go out of Galen as she made quick work of removing his clothes and pushed him further down on the sofa. She rubbed her leather clad body against him, bending down to once again whisper all the things she wanted him to do in his ear.
Galen let go of his reservations, stripping the layers of black leather off Daye's body and letting her lead him. In the shadowy darkness of this strange room, Galen could let go and do things he'd never dreamed of, and with Daye's help, he did.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 13th
8:30 am
After she left The Armoury, Alessa just looked around. The whole meeting with Reah had taken less than an hour, and it was still it was still too early. She didn’t want to go back home, nor face Inés this morning. Sighing she just climbed her VW and drove away.
She had been just driving around when unconsciously she got to her old school. Centennial High School had already started classes and kids flooded the street and the gardens surrounding the building. Alessa drove slowly around the campus until she finally pulled over in front of the school’s front doors. Some of her ex-colleagues were around too, although it wasn’t their sight what made her feel so hollow; she hadn’t had time to forge any lasting friendship with them in the months she had taught there. She didn’t miss them, or the school, actually, but she did miss her students. She had always loved teens.
Well, maybe in some years, she would be able to teach again, she thought, when things had cooled down and nobody remembered her. She would need new papers though, but that wouldn’t be difficult. She smiled and waved to a group of girls who’d recognized her and started to walk her way; but she didn’t feel like entertaining them, so after a final wave she turned on the car and drove away. She had a new life now, and it didn’t include schools or kids.
*Kids,* she thought, remembering Cole. She hadn’t heard of the teen in days, and she wondered if he’d be ok. He had been as heartbroken at Chance’s death as she had, and she felt guilty at not having thought about him till then. Making the resolution to call Tash to find out about Cole, she left Centennial’s campus behind her.
She had a new job now. The thought put a smile in her face.
“Well, that’s one of my two New Year’s resolutions taken care of,” she said to herself, remembering the conversation she had had with Ellis about her future plans. “Fifty percent isn’t such a small figure, either.” She smiled, stopping for a red light. “Now I only need a new home.”
Alessa watched the man driving the car next to hers; he was eyeing her with interest, and she noticed she had been talking to herself.
“I need a new home!” she shouted to the man who was now grinning openly at her and touching his temple in the universal ‘crazy’ motion. Alessa just laughed and waved as the light changed to green and she drove on.
“¡Qué tonta!1 I have the most beautiful house in all Los Angeles!” she shouted again to the man who had sped up to catch up with her again. The man was young and quite attractive and she enjoyed the flirting.
“¡Quiero tu dirección!2” he asked, shouting himself, surprising her with his use of Spanish.
Alessa laughed again and sent him a flying kiss. “En tus sueños!3” she answered, before crossing an avenue with a red light and leaving him fuming behind.
***
1 Silly me!
2 I want your address
3 In your dreams!
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 13th
9:30 am
Ernie’s house
The house appeared in sight after a bend of the winding road. It glistened white in the morning sun and its many windows shone like many panelled mirrors. It was a beautiful house, a mansion in fact, albeit a little inhospitalable from the front, with its white tall walls that rose three stories high to the grey tile roof. The columned double doors were the only decoration facing the lane.
However the other side, overviewing the ocean, was completely different. All the grace and beauty that the rear lacked had been bestowed there. Huge rounded many panelled windows faced the ocean, and a turret like section gave a touch of fragility to the building. A huge terrace opened to the beach only a hundred metres below.
As Alessa drove up the lane she marvelled again at the mansion being actually hers. All the papers had been signed while in England, but she still couldn’t quite believe it. It was just too much! She still wondered what could have possessed her friend to give her such a gift.
But she could as well move in, she needed a new place and this magnificent house was hers. She hadn’t really planned on moving at first, the house was just too grand, and too far from her friends, but things had changed too much to worry about those things now.
She parked beside the massive stairs leading up the doors and walked towards it. All damages inflicted by Dray’chen’s attack had been repaired and the doors had been replaced. Dray’chen. It seemed so far away, and yet it had all happened only some months ago.
Sighing, Alessa reached the brass handles on the doors, caressing the glossy surface. She was about to turn around when the door opened, the smiling face of a middle-aged woman welcoming her. Alessa was so startled that she gave a step back, trampling on the thick mat.
“I’m sorry miss, I didn’t want to startle you!” the woman hurried to explain, “The security cameras showed you coming up the lane.”
“No, please…” Alessa gently shoved the woman’s hands off and smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s just that I didn’t expect to find anybody in the house. Who are you?”
“Please come in, Miss Hunt. I’m Mrs O'Donnell.”
At Alessa’s surprised look, the woman went on. “Mr. Longwood said you’d be coming one of these days, I just guess it took you longer than expected. But come in, don’t stay standing there, it’s your house after all.”
“That it is,” she answered, but she was still doubtful. So Ellis had told this woman she would be coming? “Who exactly are you, Mrs. O'Donnell?” she asked, closing the door after her.
The woman had already started to guide her through the huge hall towards the back of the house, where the living area was. “Well, I think you should talk to Mr. Longwood about it, but think of me as a sort of housekeeper.” Mrs. McDonnell smiled at her. “Somebody had to take care of the house till you decided to move here. Of course, you may decide not to keep me in employ. It’s your prerogative.”
Alessa didn’t say a word. She would need to talk to Ellis about all this. She kind of remembered that the will mentioned something about the company taking care of the maintenance of the house, but she had thought it referred to taxes and such, not to the service. She had to admit, though, that the house was just too big for her to handle alone, but she had never had service to wait on her, and she didn’t know if she’d feel comfortable about it.
The woman walked to the big windows and opened the curtains. The spectacle of the ocean hitting Alessa with full force, she approached the windows and looked out. It was beautiful. The sight and sound of the sea was soothing and she wondered why she hadn’t moved in earlier. Smiling she turned around.
“Could you give me a tour through the house, Mrs. O'Donnell?” she asked.
“Of course, but you just call me Donny,” she said, and Alessa couldn’t help but liking her.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 10, 2007
1318 Poplar Avenue, Alhambra
5:00 am
Shawn Hyatt sat, wide awake, in the corner of his bedroom looking out its window, down onto the street. He locked himself in the room a lifetime ago, intent on getting some sleep, but discovered quickly that it wasn’t meant to be, and he would see the sunrise. Not that sleepless night were anything new to the boy; Shawn had been experiencing them frequently since before he and his mother had left Spain, and it appeared to only be getting worse.
Every time he shut his eyes, Shawn saw an image of a hotel in the tourist center of Madrid, and his mother. He saw a masked commando attacking her, at a range too close for gunfire. He threw her against a wall, drawing a knife, which Kelly quickly batted away, following up with a crotch kick. As the commando reeled, Kelly put her foot on his thigh, took hold of his H&K USP Compact, pushed off, drawing the gun, and fired.
Shawn could still feel a piece of brain touching his eye.
After the shot, Shawn’s memory became increasingly fuzzy. He remembered running, ducking, and more shooting, but no details. He couldn’t even say how Tyler had managed to lead them out of the hotel.
“Hey.” Shawn was jolted from his memories as Tyler spoke, gently. Shawn didn’t turn to look at his father, “You’re awake.”
“Yeah.”
“You sleep?”
“You care?” Shawn put a bite into the question. Tyler wasn’t fazed.
“Yeah. Get dressed.” Tyler’s voice held a calm, matter-of-factness that disturbed Shawn.
“Why?” Shawn not only faced his father but stood, walking toward him.
“I’ll tell you when you’re dressed.” Tyler turned and shut the door, walking slowly to the kitchen where Kelly waited, leaning against a wall, packing magazines with nine millimeter ammunition.
“He’s coming.”
Tyler took a clip of his own, started filling it, working with his wife in silence. Each round he pushed into his clip snapped into place with increasing force, until Kelly was forced to stop and come over, steadying Tyler’s hand.
“Relax,” she said, “We’ve been over this.”
“I know it’s gotta be done, Kelly. I just don’t really feel like liking it just now.”
“What’s gotta be done?” Shawn entered the kitchen from his bedroom, shirt in hand. He had, as Tyler requested, gotten dressed in an old pair of jeans and a wifebeater.
“We’re not gonna be with you with you all the time Shawn. We’ve got to teach you…” Kelly started, speaking calmly, until Shawn interrupted.
“To fight. And you’re not a fan of this idea?” Shawn bore his eyes into Tyler, staring a hole through him.
“Leave him alone, Shawn,” Kelly tried to warn the boy.
But Shawn took a step toward Tyler, a not so subtle challenge. Tyler, however, simply finished his work, and started loading the ammo into a bag.
“You ready to go?” Tyler’s question to his son was flat, like a dismissal, and Kelly saw the rage in the boy’s eyes. But Shawn turned and walked toward the door, leaving his parents to pack up.
Dallas, Texas
Balance HQ
Wilson Medrano stared up to the second floor of the Balance offices hidden within the hub building of their front company, Braddock Industries. He didn’t want to really, but couldn’t help himself. His failure in Spain to deal with any of Tyler Hyatt’s family, coupled with the loss of three men, had left him to return to the base without leads, without his targets, without anything of substance.
He’d put what little resources Braddock would let him have on the search, but thus far Tyler had covered his tracks too well, and the search was stalled.
So Wilson had been unable to put up a real fight when the Boss told him he was going to their Asian office to follow up on an op that had apparently gone south, and that Wilson had to run the show. As such, the search for Tyler Hyatt had all but ground to a halt, but not for lack of resources, not for lack of effort.
“Because I can’t follow the fucker to LA.” Wilson kept his anger as much under control as he could.
“I’m sorry, what?” Dickinson stared at Wilson from across the table.
“Nothing. When’s the Boss going to check in?” Wilson stood and paced around Braddock’s office. He was tempted to give Collin’s copy of “War and Peace” a quick tug as it had seemed, since Wilson stepped into the office for the first time years ago, perpetually out of place.
“He’s supposed to be calling in half an hour.” Dickinson was typing up a series of reports. He never moved his eyes.
“To tell us what?”
“Before he left, the Boss told me that the guys he sent were looking for some kind of crystal. Ya remember… nah, you weren’t here.”
“For what?”
Dickinson stopped typing and faced his superior. “A couple years ago, you were in Boston, I think, The Boss brings in this old Shaman. He locks him in this office for a couple hours, then comes out, sends Richie with four guys off to Nepal. He kept most of it out of my hands, but I was able to piece together that there was something called a Lazarus crystal there. That’s all I got though.”
“Hmm.” Wilson locked his eyes on the book, turning over in his mind the possibilities, the options for why it could be as it was.
“When the Colonel calls, he’s gonna ask about Hyatt. What do I say?”
Wilson leaned back in his chair. “Tell him I think Tyler’s in LA.”
“Why?” Dickinson seemed surprised.
“Hunch.” Wilson stood, walking to the door.
Los Angeles
6:00 AM
Tyler stopped the car at the edge of a large, empty plot of land. He opened his door and got out of the vehicle, not waiting for his family to do likewise. Moving to the trunk, he opened it and came out with a large, wooden board - a target. Tyler had not had the time to fashion one in the shape of a man, so they made do.
A moment later Kelly joined him at the trunk, taking the target and the base from Tyler and marching with them into the field. Splitting away from her, Tyler walked to Shawn and signalled the boy to follow him and Kelly into the field.
“I wasn’t against the idea, Shawn.” Tyler spoke with his eyes moving from the ground to his wife, as she stopped and got to work. The soldier was feeling a need to lighten some of the tension that had made the hour-long car ride pass in complete silence.
“What?” Shawn spoke with a hint of surprise, as he’d been watching his mother work as well.
“Training you. It’s not that I was against the idea.” Tyler reached into the interior of his coat, the left breast pocket and started gathering magazines, listening for Shawn’s reaction.
“Oh, and you and mom were fighting…” Shawn’s head snapped when Tyler interrupted.
“We weren’t fighting about that. I agreed immediately but…” Tyler stopped his son forty yards from the target as Kelly joined them. “When you have kids, you’ll understand.” Tyler nodded to his wife.
“Shawn.” Kelly held out a small, stainless steel weapon.
“What’s this?” Shawn’s tone lightened considerably when he dealt with his mother. When he noticed this, Tyler quickly suppressed his anger.
“It’s a Beretta M9, Shawn. That’s the standard issue military sidearm. That means the first time a new soldier shoots, this is it.” Shawn stayed silent, taking a grip on the weapon. Kelly smiled at how well he kept himself from doing a happy dance, and listened as Tyler spoke. “It’s a nine millimeter, but unless you’re looking at a vampire or swat, it’s more than you need. Take a stance.”
“What?”
“Hold the gun and get ready to fire it.”
“There’s no ammo.” Shawn barely suppressed a shout.
“Tyler,” Kelly, as always, was perfectly calm. “Why don’t I do this?”
Kelly watched her husband stand still a moment and process the request, and its reasons. Then he reached into his right side pocket, withdrew six clips, and handed them to his wife, walking back toward the car.
*This will be faster,* Tyler thought to himself walking away, and allowed himself to muse for a moment on how much he’d screwed up his son’s life.
Taiwan
5:30 am pacific time
Collin Braddock stood on the stoop of the hotel his troops had commandeered years ago when they arrived on their assignment. He set his bag down next to him, pulled out keys and unlocked the door, stepping inside. He set his bag on the table and moved into the center of the building, opening a small compartment to withdraw a computer and, sitting down, opened it.
After a couple of seconds of typing, Collin reached into his bag again, withdrawing a headset and donning it. He waited a second.
“High Rover. Clearance code R35R101. Package acquired, need exit.”
Collin pulled his headset off and stood, casting his eyes to the door, drawing his gun and waiting. He stared, intently, weapon ready. Any passerby would have looked in and seen something of interest. They would have seen an American in a foreign land, looking at his door like the devil himself would attack from behind it.
Then the gun would have created a problem.
Los Angeles
7:30 AM
Tyler sat on the hood of his car, looking out into the field. His son and wife stood a football field and a half away from him, continuing the lesson. From what he could tell at this distance, Shawn was doing well, excelling even. He’d walked away after the boy emptied the first clip, when he was sure that Kelly could deal with the lesson. As he did, Shawn started to pick things up quickly.
“It’s a good thing.” Tyler repeated those four words to himself, time and again, over and over. He repeated them every time he looked out into the field and saw the boy who’d come home in tears, covered in bruises when he was nine because he had thrown a single punch with a weapon. He repeated them whenever he saw his wife, who’d been a doctor when he met her in the service, teaching her own son to kill.
He repeated them again when Kelly broke away and approached. As he waited for her to arrive, Tyler took a box of ammunition from his pocket and set it on the hood. He then stood as Kelly reached him and walked back toward the trunk.
“How’s he doing?” Tyler spoke calmly, just loud enough to be heard as he opened the trunk, pulling from it a hip holster and ammo pouch.
“Well. He’s a natural.” Kelly watched her husband’s face, not surprised when he kept it carefully blank.
“He’s got a slow rate of fire. Get him one of those grip things.” Tyler walked to his wife and handed her the gear. “I want him armed at all times, when he’s with us or not. That Beretta is a new limb. Make sure he understands.”
“Okay.” Kelly turned to walk back.
“The reason I left you guys, it’s not just what I said. I mean, it is true, if you’re around I’m going to pay a hell of a lot more attention to keeping you guys alive than I will to doing what that actually takes. It does make me slow. But I wanted to avoid this.” Tyler nodded toward the boy, who was still shooting. “He’s not… I really don’t know what it’s going to do to him when he kills for the first time. I didn’t want…”
“It didn’t work, Tyler.” Kelly walked back to her husband. “We wound up where we are. Shawn knows you well enough to tell when you’re upset, and since he’s pissed at you…”
“Justifiably.”
“Justifiably or not, since he’s pissed at you it upsets him. I had to spend five minutes talking him down. It wastes time.” Kelly took two steps, avoiding lecturing.
“I know that.” Tyler turned his head to the sky, one of his many gestures of both fatigue and frustration. “It’s not something I can help though.”
Kelly walked up to her husband, brought his face back down and kissed him lightly. “He’s a good kid, Tyler. The fact that you are concerned that actually using that gun is going to be bad for him should make that clear. You did that, Tyler.” Kelly ran a hand over Tyler’s cheek. “So you can’t be as horrible as you think you are.”
Tyler smiled at his wife.
“Now, I should remind you that I can’t teach him hand to hand.” Kelly stepped back, getting back to business.
“I know.”
“You’ve gotta settle this thing, or it’s gonna make all of us miserable.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Kelly nodded and turned back into the field. When she reached Shawn, she cast an uneasy look back. Tyler had her worried.
He looked like he’d just lost something sacred.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
March 13th
noon
Ernie’s house
A couple of hours later Alessa was inspecting the main bedroom's closets. They were still full of Ernie and Andrea’s clothes; in fact, the whole house was bursting with their personal objects. She would have to pack it all before moving in; she didn’t feel comfortable with all those things around. Besides, she didn’t think Ernie had meant for her to have his wife’s clothes, or her jewels.
“I’ll need Ellis for this,” she said to herself, walking inside the closet and fingering the rich material of an elegant nightdress.
“You called me?”
Alessa gasped and nearly jumped. She turned around and nearly collided with him, he was standing just too close.
“How long have you been there?” She tried to sound scolding, but at the boyish, endearing grin on Ellis' face she found herself smiling back at him. She pushed playfully against his chest, broadening the space between them.
Ellis grinned at her attempt to keep him at a distance, but complied. He leaned on the threshold, watching her. “I just got here. Donny called me, she said you’d be needing my help.”
“What is that woman? Psychic?” she asked, irritated. Then she looked right into his eyes, a suspicion in her mind. “She isn’t, right?”
Ellis just laughed, enjoying her mood. “No, she isn’t. But she has some interesting qualities all the same.”
Alessa just raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?” She decided to let the matter be. “Well, actually she was right. I’d like to pack all this stuff. Your parent’s things are all around the place, I don’t think I should keep them.”
She noticed his pained expression and cursed herself for her bluntness. “I’m sorry, Ellis, maybe you’d like me to do it myself…?”
“No. You’re right. I’ve been postponing it, and you deserve to have your own house, not a museum of my parents. I’ll ask Donny for some boxes and we can start removing all these things right now.”
He looked around the room. The main bedroom occupied the first story of the turret. It was hexagon shaped and it had high windows in four of its walls, a big canopied bed facing them; all of it decorated with a rose patterned chintz in different shades of cream, pink and burgundy. It was a charming bedroom, not at all stuffy in its grandeur; his mother had had good taste. *She may not like it, though*, he thought.
“You can redecorate too, if you want. On the company, of course.”
Alessa looked around too, she liked the bedroom just like it was. “Oh, I don’t think so, it’s lovely as it is. I’ll just remove some of the paintings, and the framed pictures… It will be perfect.”
Ellis just nodded, and along with Donny they spent several hours sorting the Longwoods’ house contents. Paintings, watercolours, fine vases, sculptures, old china and crystals… Alessa carefully wrapped and packed over Ellis’ fierce protests, who said that Ernie had meant for her to keep all those things, but Alessa just couldn’t. After a vehement argument they decided to send the clothes to different charities and the more valuable objects to a museum. He only took Andrea’s jewels, her antique doll collection and his father’s stamps, and Alessa only kept Ernie’s Watcher’s library books.
Finally, almost at sunset, they finished. They were exhausted, hungry and dirty, and Mrs. O'Donnell excused herself to cook some dinner.
“No way, Donny.” Ellis stopped her. “You’ve worked as hard as we have, you deserve your rest too. We’ll just order some pizza.” The woman beamed, and Alessa smiled at his kindness. “Go on, we can fend for ourselves,” he turned to Alessa and smirked, “Can’t we?”
Alessa nodded, suddenly insecure with the idea of being alone with him. They’d been so busy all day that she hadn’t even thought about the events of the other night, or about her increasing attraction to him. He was dishevelled and his hair was messy, and his eyes were incredibly blue and… *Damn.* She hugged her arms, in a self-conscious movement.
“Actually, I think I should be going,” she said, looking away, “Inés is probably worried, I left early this morning and didn’t call or anything…”
“No excuses, I called her myself earlier. She’s going out with Connor, and she implied she'd spend the night with him.”
Alessa pursed her lips, annoyed at him taking charge like that, but then her eyes met his and time stood still for a brief moment. His expression was soft and affectionate and she cursed herself for her cowardice.
“Ok, but only for dinner.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Ellis caught her hand and playfully bowed and placed a kiss on the back of it. He grimaced slightly at the smell and taste he discovered there. "Dust and newspaper ink. My favourite flavours.”
“Serves you right,” Alessa replied wryly. Averting her eyes, she quickly removed her hand from his distracting touch and brushed past him to get out of the gaming room where they had been collecting the last paintings. “However, I really should be going. Reah may call me to work tomorrow.”
Ellis followed close behind her, flinching at her words. Alessa had told him about her job during the day, and he suspected she was keeping something from him. However, he had kept his reservations to himself. He didn’t have a saying in her dealings… yet.
He walked to the middle of the room, where a big billiard table stood under twin lamps, and caressed the green fabric that covered it, an idea in his mind.
“I tell you what,” he said, smiling and rolling the cue ball against the perfect triangle of the rest, and sending the colourful ivory balls rolling in all directions. “Let’s play a pool game. If you win, you leave. If I win, you stay and dine with me?”
Alessa’s full lips quivered, and she pressed them together to prevent a smile.
“May I remind you that this is my house now? I make the rules here.”
“Indeed?” he said, amused, “And what do you propose…?”
“I win, you cook. You win, we order a pizza,” she said, laughter in her eyes. She just couldn’t help taunting him.
Ellis winked and his eyes shone a devilish light. “Deal. I win both ways, anyway.”
The look of raw longing and desire that briefly crossed his face startled her; but she just smiled. She felt giddy and light-hearted, not at all self-conscious anymore. Alessa walked to the rack and took one of the cue sticks, she was good at the game, but she wasn’t going to admit it to him.
“So, how do you play this game?”
“You must be hungry, you are soooo gonna lose this,” he gloated, and proceeded to explain her the rules. “I’ll start and show you.”
“Go ahead,” she said and, leaning on her cue stick, she watched him move around the table, showing her the playing movements step by step. He moved with lazy grace, his white shirt rippling over the width of his shoulders, and his jeans showing off his long legs. Alessa swallowed hard. She forced her gaze away from him back to the table; Ellis had already managed to pocket all his balls.
“Hey! That’s not fair! You’ve already won!”
“And you tried to trick me, old miss. We are even.” He handed her the cue stick, grinning. He could feel her excitement and nervousness. “And I haven’t won yet, it’s your turn.”
“Humpf! Who are you calling old?” She walked over to the table and lifted the stick, eyeing the position of her balls on the table and starting her game.
As Alessa bent over to play, he leaned back against the table, folded his arms across his chest and unashamedly studied her. She ostentatiously ignored him, concentrating on the game. She was obviously enjoying herself and he delighted on it. He had never seen her like this, so relaxed and carefree.
After a sequence of brilliant moves that got them even, she was stretching over the table, concentrating on pocketing her last ball. Several curls of dark hair had escaped her ponytail, and she puffed to brush them from her eyes, she scratched her nose and leaned even more over the table. Her position emphasized the delightful curve of her derriere, and Ellis could hardly control himself not to stroke it.
The feeling of desire that swept through him again stunned him. He barely knew this woman and yet he wanted her more than any other he could recall. *More than the whore? Or that Roxana bitch?* a nagging part of his mind asked, but he didn’t even bother to answer it. This was different. The overwhelming desire was there, but it wasn’t hollow. He wanted her, his hands itched to touch her and he needed to feel her scent, her taste…
“Maldición!” she cursed, when she missed the shot, sending her cue ball to one of the pockets, thus losing the game. Laughing, she looked up into his face, and found herself captivated by the depth of his blue eyes. Her laughter died on her lips.
“So, I won,” he said, and moved forward with the purposeful pace of a predator. Alessa skittered back, her relaxed mood evaporating.
“I... I’m not hungry any more,” she said and turned to escape. He just shot his stick upwards, blocking her path.
“Cheater,” he drawled, getting closer, his eyes intent on hers.
Alessa took another step back, ignoring her sudden desire to stay her ground and just let go. *Chance is barely cold in his grave, for heaven’s sake!* She shouldn’t be feeling like this, behaving like this. Gulping, she took another step back only to be stopped by the table. She grabbed it with her hands and looked up at him.
He had her trapped and he enjoyed the feelings he was receiving from her. Leaning forward, he placed his hands on hers on the edge of the pool table.
“Are you afraid of me?”
Alessa’s head shot upward, almost hitting his chin. “Never. I’m afraid of myself.” She knew she was stronger and more powerful than him, but somehow she couldn’t move. The gentle pressure of his hands on hers had her rooted to the greenness of the table.
“Why ever for?” he asked, overly delighted by her answer. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he only wanted to bury his hands in her hair, feel the satin of her skin, of her self. He had her hands trapped in his, and the feel of her skin was like a bolt of electricity, calling to his very soul.
“You want this, I can feel it.”
She closed her eyes, heat pulsing in her hands where he touched her, her face where his breath burned, her temples, her inner core… He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the tender spot at the base of her throat, tracing the sensitive skin with his lips.
“No…” she whispered. Ellis took a final step forward, closing the distance between them and silencing her with his mouth.
The kiss went on and on, breathtaking and throbbing. Dimly, he realized that he had lifted her to the table, settling himself between her legs, the fabric of their jeans the only barrier separating them. Their bodies moving sensuously against each other. He closed his eyes, and buried his head in her fragrant hair, his hand slipping inside her sweater to cup her small breasts.
“Vanilla…” he said, inhaling deeply, “You smell of vanilla.”
Desire throbbed through her, blinding her, but somehow his words had broken the spell. Alessa’s eyes fluttered open and she desperately looked past his bent head.
“I think it’s time… for me to go,” she whispered.
He was so far gone that he didn’t hear her at first. When she spoke again, and pushed him away he groaned loudly.
“You don’t want to go,” he said, and pressed his mouth to her throat again, the hand on her breast twisting almost painfully.
“No! This is over, Ellis. I can't.” Alessa tensed. For a long moment she feared she would have to fight him back, so intense was his passion. “This is enough!” she repeated, terribly ashamed of herself, blushing. *How did I let this happen?* she desperately asked herself, tears springing in her eyes.
“I can't,” she repeated, almost sobbing.
*Enough.* His breath coming in shallow pants, he tried to focus on her face and saw that she was serious, her expression and the determination of her sense told him so. At last Ellis gave in. Reluctantly he moved away, his hands leaving her warmth, and gave her room to jump off the table.
“Ellis… I-” she started, but he silenced her with a gesture, his face hard and unrelenting, his body shaking.
With a broken sob, Alessa run out of the room.
Galen Pays Damen a Visit
Wednesday, 14 March 2007
1:05am – Streets of LA, Location Fluid
Galen squinted slightly as the headlights of an oncoming car shone brightly in his eyes, the horn blaring as he yanked on the steering wheel and swerved out of the path of the oncoming car back onto his side of the road again.
He’d been driving around aimlessly for a short while now, completely and utterly lost in every sense of the word.
Less than an hour ago he had awoken, restless and anxious in Daye’s arms and after a quick shower had left her apartment before the woman even roused from her sleep. He felt bad for that, slipping from her bed in the middle of the night without so much as a word spoken in explanation or apology. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d used Daye – not that she’d complained or even seemed that concerned about what they’d done. In fact she’d encouraged it, making fun of his own worries and anxieties at every opportunity. But it wasn’t just that; he had also cheated on his wife and after all the awful, nasty things he’d said to her, barely even eight hours ago, he felt like a complete and utter hypocrite.
He swallowed hard as he continued to drive, not even sure of his destination. How could he have been so stupid? All he had wanted was to talk, to feel in control of his life again after everything that had happened in the past two weeks. Overhearing that conversation between Tash and Kate… it had been like every one of his nightmares coming true at once. He’d been so angry, felt so betrayed, so stupid. And Daye, she had been so kind, understanding… she’d said all the right words, made him feel like maybe none of this was his fault.
It was like Daye had wanted it to happen, and she had definitely come on to him with all her touching and lingering glances – he couldn’t have just imagined something like that. Galen shook his head in confusion. But it just wasn’t like Daye to behave that way… and yet… their time together had been unusual to say the least. He could barely believe it had happened and he felt sick every time he thought of the kind of things they had done together. The dirty words that she had whispered into his ear as their bodies had writhed around, driving him on to do other things, encouraging, demanding… things that he would never normally do, not to his wife, not to anyone!
Suddenly Galen’s grip tightened on the steering wheel again as he swerved to the right, narrowly missing another vehicle for what must have been at least the third time that night.
“God damn it!” he swore to himself in response to the near miss. Checking his mirrors he quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road.
He couldn’t think anymore. His thoughts were driving him mad with anger and jealousy and guilt. *How is it possible for one man to feel so many different emotions at the same time?* he wondered idly, burying his head in the steering wheel. This whole thing… it was a complete nightmare!
Galen clenched handfuls of his hair between his fingers in barely controllable distress. Despite his own actions he still couldn’t get the image of his wife and that man in bed together out of his head. Maybe it was his own guilt making that image worse but he just couldn’t let it go and the more he agonised over it, the angrier he became.
Starting his car again, Galen pulled back into the light stream of traffic, continuing on his search for answers.
2:10am - Downtown Los Angeles
Galen had been driving around for almost an hour now; steadily growing more enraged with each passing minute. He held his cell phone cradled between his ear and shoulder as he steered a tricky corner. It had just taken a few phone calls to confirm what he needed to know, the address of Damen Kirk.
"Rivera Apartments, Room 204 ... South Central... that's great, I owe you one," said Galen as he hung up. It had meant calling in a few favours – not easy at such an unsociable hour - but it would be worth it if it meant getting his hands on Damen Kirk.
He smiled to himself at that thought; right now it was the one thing that was guaranteed to make him feel better. He spun the car around and headed off in the opposite direction. He wasn't far away from the apartment block and at that time of night there would be little traffic. He sped down the highway, paying little respect to the speed limit as the accelerator pedal hit the floor of the car.
Thirty minutes later he pulled up sharply outside the shabby looking building and turned off the engine. He looked up at the tall grey stone structure bleakly, he just hoped the son of a bitch was there. Not even pausing to reconsider his decision, Galen quickly entered the apartment block and ran up the stairs to the second floor.
Damen turned over restlessly in the bed, beating his pillow up a little in an effort to make it a less like sleeping on a park bench. Reah had blown him off for the night – well that had been putting it mildly. She’d told him to fuck off and stay in his own fucking apartment for once. The sound of the knocking on the door brought a smile to his face though as he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It wasn’t above Reah to go out hunting and get herself all worked up into a frenzy and then come calling looking for a way to work off all that pent-up frustration.
He pulled on a t-shirt – squirting a spritz of aftershave under his arms as he wandered over to the door. Tonight might not be a total ‘blow out’ after all… “Hey baby… change your mind after all-”
Damen stopped short as he saw the fierce looking man on the other side of the threshold. He knew that look, he was well acquainted with it - this was a man looking for trouble. "Uh, er, something I can do for you, pal?"
Galen recognised the man immediately, he never forgot a face and this man was Damen Kirk all right, he remembered him from that night fighting against the Brotherhood. Galen looked down at the floor in an attempt to appear casual, "Yeah, see, I was wondering..."
Suddenly he kicked out at the door with such force that it caught Damen off guard. The door swung back, cracking him in the chin and allowing Galen to walk straight in.
"Ahhhh! Fuckin’ Hell!" Damen cried out in a combination of pain and surprise, reeling back from the suddenness of the blow. The worst part was that he didn't even know who this guy was. “Fuckin’ bastard,” he groaned, staggering back into the living room. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Damen snapped at the man, taking a few more steps backwards and cradling his aching jaw.
Galen slammed the door shut as he took several steps inside, his eyes burning with fury as he stared at the man; Damen didn't even know who he was! Well that was going to change pretty quickly; by the time he was finished with him he would never forget his name again. "You don't know who I am do you? But then, you're probably more familiar with my wife."
Galen walked further into the apartment; it was a real shit hole and no mistake. Empty pizza boxes littered the floor along with crushed beer cans and cigarette butts and there was a distinctly unpleasant odour to the place too, like something had just curled up and died. “Nice apartment,” he said with a sneer, “You have a real shitty chic thing going off, I like it, reminds me of a flat share I used to have…”
“Look man,” snapped Damen angrily, watching the man as he picked up the baseball bat by the door. *Aw, FUCK!* he thought in annoyance, *Why did I leave that there?* “If you called round to talk interior decorating then you could you just fuck the hell off!”
Galen swung the baseball bat a couple of times, getting a feel for the weight. “My wife’s name… is Kate…” he continued, still swinging the bat. As he said her name he saw a flicker of recognition in the man's eyes; if he really didn't know who he was before he certainly did now.
"Beautiful… long red hair... recently bereaved. She was probably pretty easy for you to get in your bed, huh? Ply her with enough booze so she didn't know what she was doing... play the sympathetic line on her did you?"
Damen’s eyes were locked on the baseball bat but he couldn’t help but look up at the man’s face at the mention of Kate’s name. He could remember him from that time with the Brotherhood, vaguely... Galen. That was it, a cop too if he remembered rightly. He would be the guy who got Kate in the condition where she showed up at Nik’s apartment in tears. Well if this jerk wanted a fight, Damen would be more than happy to kick the ever-loving shit out of him.
"I didn't plan on anything, you fucking asshole," he snapped. "But yeah we talked… a lot about you actually, and I may have offered her a drink to steady her nerves, but she needed it and lots besides. And while we're on the subject, you can go screw yourself! I mean, what kind of husband lays into his wife after their kid dies? A fucking asshole that’s what! So she came over here, looking for someone who could understand, well fucking sue me for helping her out.”
Galen could barely control his temper as he swung out with the baseball bat, striking a beat up looking television set and smashing the screen into pieces. “Help?”
“Awww man!” groaned Damen, watching impotently as his TV was broken beyond repair.
"Help?” repeated Galen in fury as he swung the bat again, this time at the high-tech looking stereo. *Oh yeah… hit him where it hurts…*
“FUCK!” swore Damen, practically jumping out of his skin in anger as Galen took swing after swing at his stuff, smashing it all to pieces.
“Your kind of help we can do without! What makes you think you have the faintest idea what Kate and I have been through?" Galen yelled in anger. "People like you make me sick, think you know everything, like that gives you a right to do as you please. Well it doesn't."
Galen's steely gaze fixed on Damen, taking several slow, deliberate steps towards him, dragging the baseball bat along the floor. "You didn't really think that you could screw around with my wife and I'd just sit back and take it, did you?"
“My fucking stuff!” Damen cried out in despair, he’d blown most of his money on that stereo! Someone clearly needed to teach this guy a lesson in manners - first he treats his wife like shit then he comes over here and wrecks his apartment!
"Yeah, well, I'm not surprised you're pissed off," he said steadily, looking almost reasonable. "Bring out the fatherly instincts in you does she? I'm just curious, how long did it take you to pick up a piece of jail-bait like her? All I can say is you must be fucking loaded man."
Galen felt his patience snap as he lurched out at Damen, dropping the baseball bat in the process. He wanted to smash this guy up with his bare hands, feel his blood on his fists. He flew at Damen, his fist raised, and smacked him squarely in the nose, watching the man as he reeled, clutching at his nose as a thin stream of blood messed up his face and dripped down onto his shirt.
Galen held his sore fist, looking down at Damen as he groaned and continued to hold his bloody nose. “How’d you like them instincts?” he said stonily, his comment about the age difference between himself and Kate had really pissed him off at the wrong moment. Before Damen could do anything he grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up to his feet before dealing another punch to his face and letting him fall to the floor again.
"I can't say that beating the living crap out of you will change anything," he said still holding his fist in his left hand as the adrenaline surged through his body, "but after the night I’ve had it'll sure as hell make me feel a whole lot better!"
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Damen swore with raging brutality, his head reeling from the force of the two blows. As Galen moved to haul him up to his feet again Damen lashed out sharply, slamming his fist first into the man’s stomach and then into the side of his jaw, sending the pissed off husband to the ground.
As Galen groaned on the floor, clutching his stomach, Damen rolled him over and dealt a fierce kick to his gut, eliciting another guttural moan from the man.
"How good do you feel now? Hmm? Dipshit?!" he bellowed, yanking him up by his hair before throwing him back down on the floor and circling him menacingly.
Galen continued to groan, spitting blood from his mouth. Damen walked over to where the baseball bat had been discarded and picked it up, tapping it in the palm of his hand.
“Feel better now do you? Asshole?” mocked Damen gleefully. “Fuckers like you are all the same… look down on people like me, think you’re better with your college education, fancy cars and tailored suits, but it’s all an act just to disguise the fact that you’re not man enough to satisfy your woman.”
Galen glared up at Damen as he let the baseball bat drag across the bare wooden floor, occasionally hitting it hard against the ground just inches from Galen’s face. With a burst of rage Galen leapt up from the floor at Damen, knocking him to the ground. The two men rolled around, fists swinging and legs kicking with equal enthusiasm.
Damen grinned as he managed to knee Galen clean in the balls, sending him moaning and rolling in agony. “Oh that’s GOTTA hurt!” he laughed viciously, “I don’t think you’re gonna be satisfying anyone for a while now pal…”
Galen swore a string of expletives, dragging himself up from the floor. He was still in agony but he wasn't going to let this fucking asshole win, not again. Just the thought of him and Kate... in Nik’s apartment, in the bedroom, having their dirty little tryst… He felt the anger surge through him again and he threw himself on top of Damen, laying into him without a second thought. He punched him in the ribs and then swiftly in the gut, revelling in the sound of pain that escaped his lips.
"You think this is pain?" he cried as he continued to throw punches, narrowly avoiding a few of Damen's, "You haven't got a clue you fucking bastard!"
****
“What the hell is going on here?” bellowed the superintendent Dan Fellows as he stumbled out of his apartment at the sound of all the shouting and doors banging. At just under seven foot he was 289lbs of sheer, all-American, military bred muscle.
He stormed down the corridors, his heavy hobnailed boots clattering on the rickety floorboards as he started on the first flight of stairs. *Godamn tenants,* he thought ill-temperedly, his muscles flexing in anticipation. *Never would have happened in the Marines.*
****
Damen's world began to spin while the series of blows connected with his face. More than anything else, he just wanted to give Galen a good ass-kicking. Once he figured out which of the three Galens above him was the proper one. Then suddenly he managed to land a good connecting blow which sent Galen reeling. Damen took a moment to compose himself before launching himself fully into the fray.
He held Galen down, his arm pressing on his neck while he struggled and kicked to free himself. “You want to know about your wife? She begged me to fuck her, that’s how desperate she was for a man to show her a good time.” He laughed at the flare of wrath in Galen’s eyes as his attempts to free himself grew more frenzied.
They struggled a bit more until Galen finally gained the upper hand, drawing back his fist to deliver another hard punch. Damen caught his fist however, fighting to hold back the blow, he laughed again, “I can see why you’re so upset though, I mean… she is pretty good in bed isn’t she? She really knew what she was doing… how to please, and she certainly enjoyed herself with me…”
Galen cried out in fury as he broke free of Damen and sent him reeling with a blow across the face. “You bastard! You fuck! I swear I’m going to kill you!” he barked as he lost all concept of control and threw yet another punch. All he could think about was him and Kate… Damen’s taunting words painting the worst kind of image in his mind.
Dan Fellows didn’t even have to bust the door open when he arrived outside apartment 204; it was already half hanging off its hinges, the noise of the two men sounding loud even in the hallway. *That’s coming out of your security deposit,* he thought as he pushed it open to be greeted by the sight of two bodies both struggling around on the floor.
“Come on boys, time to break it up for the night,” he warned, his gravelly voice cutting through the sound of grunting and heavy breathing that was coming from the two men.
When it was clear neither of them was going to back off he stepped forwards, grabbing the one on top and yanking him back, hauling him off the other man.
“’Bout time you got here Bulldozer,” spat Damen, wiping a thin trail of blood from the corner of his mouth, his gaze firmly set on Galen with steely determination.
“Two O’ Four, I should just let him pound yer skinny ass for all the good it’s worth,” growled the Super, keeping a firm hold on Galen who was struggling to get free and continue his pummelling. “What’s he gone and done this time?”
“That fucker,” Galen spat, pointing at Damen as he struggled to stand to his feet, “slept with my wife.”
“Yeah and she loved every minute of it too,” sneered Damen, still wiping the blood from his mouth as he pulled himself up to his feet.
“You fucking basta-” cried Galen, fighting to get to Damen but the heavily built man pulled him back again.
"Take my advice,” Fellows said, keeping a firm hand on Galen as he man handled him out of the apartment, “He’s not worth it, worm like him – someone’s bound to put a bullet in his head someday. Now go home and sleep it off. Don’t worry, if the law comes by I didn’t see nothing.”
Galen looked up at the man, his eyes cold and angry as Fellows finally let go of him once they’d got out into the street. Galen shook himself down, pulling his jacket back on as he turned and headed back to his waiting car. “I am the law, pal.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 14th, 2007- Bob’s Bar- 9:30 pm***
Cough
Adriana covered her mouth with her hand as she hoarsely coughed, her other hand holding up the tray of drinks with great difficulty. For the past twenty four hours, she had been feeling like shit.
She served the table of demons their drinks as Drea proceeded to sneeze in her hands. The demons, though not the cleanest fellows in the city, startled back a bit. Adriana moved her eyes to the demons and apologized through her hands. “I’m sorry.”
She took the tray and went back to the bar where Bob was waiting. He looked over Adriana. She was much paler than normal, the color drained from her cheeks. Her eyes were watery and her nose was red and raw from blowing her nose too much.
“You got allergies?” Bob asked, beginning to put together a drink.
Drea nodded a little, and replied, “I have a pollen allergy. But I’ve never experienced symptoms from it this early in the year.”
Bob looked at her again and sighed. “I think you better head on home,” he told her.
She looked at him wildly and choked out, “Home? Why?”
He came from behind the bar and pushed her outward. “You look terrible, you need some rest. Besides, I don’t need you sneezing over all of my customers’ drinks. Believe it or not, I try to run a clean and decent place here.”
Adriana grabbed her coat and said to her boss, “Thanks.” She then left.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
***March 14th, 2007- Adriana and Dominika’s Apartment- 10:30 pm***
“No, Dom, I’m fine, really,” Adriana pleaded with her sister, as Dominika pulled the covers over her.
Dom sighed and replied, “No, you’re not. Ven you’re sent home from vork, you’re not vell.”
She glanced at her watch. Dom had called him about five minutes ago, telling him about Adriana being home. Although she did like seeing Drea with her boyfriend, Dominika wanted to go out and she didn’t want to be stuck home watching her sister.
A moment later, the doorbell rang. “Hey Dom,” Darian said tiredly, “I guess Adriana’s in her room?”
Yeah, she’s lying down,” she replied automatically, her attention focusing more on Darian’s condition. The man looked horrible. His hair was disheveled, his face was full of stubble, accumulated from days of not shaving, and his eyes seemed tired and beaten. *Vat t’e hell happened to t’is guy?* she thought, as he walked past and into Drea’s room.
“How are you feeling?” he asked tenderly, after giving Drea a kiss on the forehead.
A smile spread across her face as her eyes rested upon him. Adriana sat up properly and replied, “Well, not so much now.” She studied him and spoke, concerned, “Maybe I should be asking you that.”
“Me? Wha..huh.. Oh,” he mumbled, until finally realizing what he must look like. “Yeah, well I’ve been really preoccupied trying to find Cole. Tash suggested I ask one of the witches, but Amanda isn’t answering my calls, and Kate, well… I didn’t want to bother her with this.” He yawned widely, as he brushed Adriana’s hair from her face. “So I’ve been out trying to follow magic currents again.”
Adriana felt a pang of guilt surface. It was only a day ago that she'd seen Cole in the supermarket, but it was a day she’d rather forget.
“Darian, I…” Drea began, before she continued, “Darian, I saw Cole yesterday, at the store buying cigarettes. He was so… different. Not like himself at all. Cole’s not the same, and he doesn’t want to be found.”
Overcome with grief for her beloved boyfriend, Adriana wrapped her arms around him, not waiting for his reply.
“You saw him?” Darian returned the hug warmly, unsure what to make of the whole situation. “What do you mean he’s different? Did he do something to you?” Darian prayed that she would say no, but deep down, he anticipated the other answer. Tash had said Cole had beaten up a defenseless man, and if that was true he could have very well done something to Drea.
“He… he insulted my people, and he performed a… a gypsy trick” she spat bitterly, “on me, just to keep me from coming after him.”
Adriana sighed miserably and looked into Darian’s eyes. “Cole’s changed, and not for the better.”
“I know this may sound weird, but I think something happened to him. All this, everything that’s happening, I don’t think its really him doing it.”
“It was him Dar,” she said softly.
“I know it’s him, in the literal sense, I just think maybe, maybe something is controlling him. Before he left, I felt something unnatural in his system; I think whatever that was, it’s causing this disturbing behavior."
Drea ran her fingers threw his hair. “The teenage years are tough, Dar. Think about it; you experienced them over 200 years ago, and how much of them do you remember? Hell, mine were about ten years ago, and I’m still suffering the side effects. They’re bad times, that I remember. But you don’t go… bewitching people left to right. That I’m really worried about,” she explained to him.
Darian didn’t reply. He didn’t want to think about it anymore, not tonight anyway. “So what exactly do you have?” he said, changing the conversation abruptly. “Your forehead is burning hot.”
Placing his finger on her head, he called up a tiny bit of elemental magic, sending a tiny shiver through her body. “I can cool you off you know,” he smiled.
Adriana smiled at him as she gently touched his hand. “Being sick is turning out to be not so bad,” she commented.
James Anderson Gives His Advice
Wednesday, 14 March 2007 - 3:34am - The Home of Detective James Anderson
Galen staggered dizzily up the steps to the front door, his ears still ringing somewhat as he pressed the doorbell and took a nervous step backwards. He didn’t really want his partner to see him in such a state and there would certainly be plenty of awkward questions to answer. The alternative, however, was to spend the night in the back of his car and he didn’t exactly relish that idea either.
Waiting for a response, Galen suddenly realised what a mess he must look like. He anxiously wiped at his chin where a thick crust of dried blood had begun to form and quickly tucked in his torn, blood-stained shirt before combing his hands through his hair.
*Okay, so that probably didn’t make much of a difference but it’s a start,* thought Galen tiredly as he noticed a light upstairs turn on and the sound of stumbling, tired footsteps on the other side of the door.
James Anderson stumbled blindly down the stairs as he heard the doorbell ring. He hadn’t been sleeping much lately anyway, ever since the whole Christmas Eve massacre and the subsequent trial of DeAngelo. He found it almost impossible to relax, his mind still plagued by the wholesale carnage and bloodshed that he’d seen that day.
Rubbing his eyes sleepily he opened the door a crack and peered out into the darkness. “Galen? That you? What on earth’s going on? It’s three-thirty in the morning!”
“I know, sorry…” apologised Galen awkwardly, shuffling about with unease. “I didn’t mean to disturb you and Jennifer… is she okay?”
“Yeah, yeah she’s fine,” hushed James, trying to keep their voices low to avoid waking his wife. “She always sleeps like a log. Look… come on in. Geez you look like hell, what happened?”
“Long story,” said Galen as he quietly stepped inside and closed the door.
James led the way into the kitchen and opened the fridge, passing Galen a beer. “Here ya go buddy, you look like you could do with one.” He sat silently, watching Galen as he opened the bottle and took a good long drink. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that row you and Kate had the other day would it?”
Galen sighed. The cold beer felt good, fizzing up in his dry mouth and washing away the taste of his own blood. “Can’t put anything past you can I?”
Anderson chuckled lowly, folding his arms over his chest. “So what happened? I thought you’d decided to try and make up with her?”
Galen raised the beer bottle to his lips again before rubbing his aching jaw; if he looked bad now he was going to look as though he’d been run over by a bulldozer come the morning. Suddenly his eyes fell on an open file that lay abandoned on the kitchen table. Like himself, Anderson often brought case files home with him but Galen immediately recognised the photographs and transcripts as the same case that had been plaguing his partner for the past three months.
“When are you gonna let that go?” he asked tiredly.
James followed Galen’s eyes to the open files and quickly moved to clear the papers away. It would be an understatement to say that he was more than a little obsessed with the events of last Christmas but then even in his line of work it wasn’t every day that you stumbled upon your entire congregation murdered where they sat.
“When I get a satisfactory answer,” he mumbled before returning to Galen. “And that goes for you too, don’t avoid the question – what happened to you tonight?”
“Kate…” sighed Galen exhaustedly, “She slept with… some guy, after we had that fight the other night. She went out, got drunk, boned some complete moron.”
James raised an eyebrow in absolute shock; he felt he’d come to know Kate pretty well over the past year or so since Galen joined the LAPD. She was a very comely, kind hearted, loving woman who was obviously very devoted to her husband. She certainly didn’t seem the type to go jumping into some guy’s bed. But then he knew the kind of problems she and Galen had been going through over the past couple of weeks – losing their little girl must have been a terrible, inconsolable blow and he’d only recently found out about Galen’s behaviour.
“And let me guess, you found out who this guy was and decided to pay him a little visit?”
Galen’s eyes fixed on James for a moment before he silently nodded his head. The past eighteen hours or so had to go down as some of the worst of his life, finding out what he had about Kate, their argument, Daye… He swallowed a mouthful of beer and sighed. “Not the best idea in the world, I realise that.”
“Well I’m glad we agree on something,” joked Anderson grimly. “Well, you’ve beaten the crap out of the guy, that must have made you feel better.”
Galen shook his head again dismally, “You know it doesn’t.”
“I suspected as much.”
James watched Galen carefully - he was a deeply troubled man and rightly so, what he’d had to deal with during the past month was more than most men should have to endure in a lifetime. Still he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance that he’d decided to take the law into his own hands, but since Galen looked pretty beat up too James could console himself that it would be unlikely for this ’complete moron’ (as Galen had dubbed him) to press charges.
“So what’re you gonna do now?” he asked sympathetically.
Galen sighed heavily. “I don’t know James, what am I supposed to do? God this is all such a fucking mess!!”
“Hey, hey,” James said gently, patting him on the back in an effort to calm him down before he woke up the entire household. “Don’t go getting yourself all worked up again,” he said quietly.
“I just don’t know what to do,” Galen explained in frustration, holding his head in his hands. “I can’t believe that Kate would do something like this. It just isn’t like her… what the HELL was she thinking James??!! Just,” he sighed again, picking up his beer and drinking heavily, “what am I gonna do?”
James blinked several times, his age-weathered face fixed into a concerned expression as he took in Galen’s words. “Have you talked to her about it?”
“That didn’t really help if you catch my drift, I was… I was too angry to think straight. Damn I could barely stand looking at her.” Galen shuddered; seeing images of Kate with that terrified, remorseful look on her face, it all felt like a bad dream. “How could she do this?” he asked through gritted teeth. “And with that man, of all the people… she had to choose him! This is just a… fucking nightmare!”
He sighed again, shifting his weight uncomfortably as he leaned against the kitchen unit. “I just can’t get the thought of him and her out of my mind,” he explained morosely, “you know? She let this guy touch her…” Galen’s voice dropped, sounding more sad and weary than angry any more and he sighed heavily as though releasing a weight of burdens.
“She let him touch her in-in ways that I’ve touched her, in ways that, in ways that should have been just for the two of us.” Galen looked away, feeling a sickness in his stomach begin to rise. “She did things with him… I just can’t cope with knowing that. Every time I looked at her all I could see was him with his hands all… and- and I know it was just this one time, and maybe, maybe I pushed her into doing it. But I just can’t let it go, I can’t.”
James reached into the fridge and handed him another beer, watching him take another long drink. The man was so obviously distraught, his entire body was rigid and tense with bitter emotions. “You think you made her do this?” he asked in surprise.
“I don’t know,” Galen moaned pitifully, shaking his foggy head. “I’ve treated her badly these past two weeks since Emma-” he looked up, a pained expression in his eyes.
“I know, I know,” soothed Anderson, placing a supportive hand on Galen’s back.
Galen closed his eyes in despair. “I was a bad husband to her, I should have been supporting her, helping her through this time and instead I blamed her, I pushed her away.” He returned his focus to James, “She tried so hard to help me, to talk to me and she needed my understanding, my comfort, to know that I loved her… and I did nothing. Maybe if I’d done what I was supposed to have, she wouldn’t have gone looking for all that with another man.”
James frowned, “But it was a mistake?”
“That’s what she said, a drunken mistake – and I mean, Kate hardly ever gets drunk, well…” his voice faltered as he remembered less than a week ago when he’d come home to find a drunken Kate being propped up by Tash in their living room. “She doesn’t take to it very well, never has,” he added solemnly.
“No… well…” said James, eyeing the second beer in Galen’s hand, “Some of us have had more practice.”
Galen laughed half-heartedly at the man’s weak attempt at humour.
“Well I guess it’s the not knowing as much as anything,” James added contemplatively. “You start to imagine what happened in your mind, thinking all kinds of things. Then there’s the lies… the secrecy… that’s what really hurts.”
Galen looked away, barely able to meet James’ gaze. He felt so guilty, like such a hypocrite. Here he was exposing Kate’s indiscretions, reaping Anderson’s concern and pity and all the while he was just as culpable. He’d committed adultery less than four hours ago with Kate’s best friend of all people!
Not that he’d enjoyed it, not really, at least not as much as he enjoyed making love to his wife. Daye had been… different, that was all, she’d practically begged him to do things to her, the sorts of things he would never have done with Kate – things he would never have wanted to do to her because he respected her too much to treat her in such a way. He loved her too much to even think of it. But Daye… she’d drawn back the blindfold he’d put over his eyes when it came to such things, drawn that raging animal out of him and… well it had frightened him.
James steadily observed Galen’s tormented silence. “There’s something else isn’t there?”
Galen looked up, darkness and despair clouding his eyes, “I did something really stupid…”
James laughed a little, “You mean besides beating the crap out of that man?”
“Yeah… worse…” Galen raised the beer to his lips and swallowed the rest of the bottle’s contents in one go. “I just felt so… I don’t know, like nobody understood what I was going through. I tried to make things up with Kate and I just felt like she’d thrown it back in my face.”
“Galen…”
“I just went out to clear my head! How was I supposed to know she’d be there? And… I mean she’s supposed to be Kate’s best friend!”
James shook his head in disbelief, “Galen… please tell me you didn’t…”
“I slept with her.”
“You damn idiot,” he shot back severely, “You utter, utter idiot!”
“Hey, enough with the condemnation!” Galen said harshly, throwing his hands up in the air. “You have no idea what it was like! I was in a state, I couldn’t think straight! I’d just found out my wife had slept with another man!”
“So you decided to make the situation better by bedding down with her best friend? Well bravo Galen… bravo…”
“I’m not exactly proud of myself,” interjected Galen, a little annoyed at James’ mocking even if he did deserve it. “Things were… weird…” Galen tried to explain, “I was low… really low and she… well she was just there, comforting, gentle… I don’t know! It was crazy one minute we were just sitting talking and the next she had her tongue down my throat!”
“Sounds like a classy woman,” mumbled James in annoyance. The fact was he liked Kate, he’d always thought she and Galen made such a good couple and they seemed so in love. He couldn’t believe that either of them would behave so irrationally.
“So… let me get this straight. You found out that Kate slept with this asshole of a guy and so to prove that you were so much better than her you decided to go have sex with this other woman?” James shook his head, “Unbelievable, simply unbelievable. The first thing with you acting like such a jerk over Emma’s death, I should have beaten some sense into you then!”
Galen held his head in his hands in despair, “I know… I feel like such a-”
“The two of you were so happy,” interrupted James, feeling more than a little sorry for his partner. He was a good man, his wife was a good woman, they didn’t deserve for any of this to happen to them. *Why is it that the innocent are always made to suffer while the guilty walk away scot-free?* he thought bitterly.
“I know…” moaned Galen painfully. He couldn’t believe it either, how his perfect life had suddenly been shattered to pieces in such a short space of time. In less than three weeks he’d lost his daughter, his wife, his home…
“We’ve always had our problems,” he confessed wearily. That was an understatement really, their entire relationship was a rollercoaster of ups and downs, just when it seemed like they were on top of things, like the fates were on their side, BAM! They’d hit a sharp curve or a bump or a stomach wrenching 85° angle death drop. “We’ve always managed to get through them in the past…”
James patted Galen’s back gently, “Maybe you will this time too.”
Galen shook his head dismally, “I don’t know… it feels bad this time, worse than before. I’m not sure of anything any more.”
“Well maybe you’ll feel better in the morning,” announced James, suddenly straightening up. “You can stay here the night, well what’s left of it. I’m afraid all I can offer you is the couch but-”
“James, that’s fine,” said Galen, unable to disguise the relief he felt at being offered a place to stay for the night. “Right now the couch looks great and I promise I’ll be out of your hair by morning-”
“That’s fine,” smiled James, holding his hands up to stop Galen’s rambling. “Come on, I’ll get you some blankets and things, then you can get some rest. You’re gonna need to be sober in the morning.”
Galen followed James slowly into the living room. “Sober? What a terrifying thought.”
A Flashback and a Visitor
***FLASHBACK- THREE YEARS AGO – 30 April 2004
The Coven of Sindell - Warwick, England***
Starring Jason Carter as Luc and Derren Brown as Logan
Kate’s eyes shone in the darkness as she gazed over at Luc’s restful form. She smiled, her hand languidly grazing over his bare chest and hard nipples. She had waited two long weeks for this moment; the entire coven was engaged in the Beltane celebrations which would go on well until the morning sun had risen. The nightly festival would afford the two lovers with a safe couple of hours when they could be together without the watchful eyes of the Council scrutinising their every move.
Luc sighed, relaxing for the first time in ages as he appreciated Kate’s tender touch. Things had been difficult, what with their having to sneak around avoiding the elders and more importantly Logan, Kate’s husband, whenever they wanted to spend a few minutes alone together. Both of them had been looking forward to this night and fully intended to make the most of it while the celebrations lasted.
He rolled over in the tiny bed and smiled, his arms wrapping around Kate’s body, skimming down the smooth, pale contours of her waist, hips and all the way down to her thighs. He stroked the bare flesh gently; pulling her more firmly against his own body and delighting in the soft sighs that escaped from her lips.
“Hmmm,” he murmured low in his throat as they indulged in yet another lingering kiss. “You have the softest lips.”
Kate laughed, breaking their kiss briefly to gaze into his deep blue eyes. She brushed back the long length of his hair tenderly, stroking the back of his neck with seductive intention. “You can be so corny sometimes, you know that?”
Luc smiled again before pulling Kate on top of him. He just watched her for a while, basking in her wonderful expression as she tipped her head slightly back and to one side while she gently rocked back and forth, her thighs squeezing firmly around his torso. His left hand reached up to cup a breast before sliding down her waist, using her anchorage to lift him up into a sitting position. Kate’s hands drew him in closer, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled his face towards hers in a desperate kiss.
“Hmmm,” Luc murmured again while his hands firmly held her, pulling her more securely into his lap. As they parted, their foreheads rested together while their bodies slowly moved with the rise and fall of their breathing, he looked steadily into her eyes.
*If only I’d not gone away for those three years,* he thought morosely. That had been when all the trouble had started, leaving Kate so alone and vulnerable at one of the most important times of her life as she left those teenage years and became a woman. Of course she had always seemed so grown up, to him she’d had a quiet maturity when she was just sixteen, but she’d changed so much in the time that he’d been away. She’d lost some of her youthful sparkle and idealism and he knew it was a direct result of her marriage to Logan.
Kate’s breathing became more laborious as they hastened their lovemaking, feeling the burden of time upon them. She held on to Luc tightly, taking comfort in his muscular strength which she had missed with an indescribable passion. If only she could get her divorce from Logan she could be free to be with Luc for always, if only the council had not intervened and deemed it illegal. Their only way out now would be to abandon the coven entirely, but this was their home, had been for as long as either of them could remember. A place of solidarity, family… safety.
Kate thought again about their inauspicious position. Leaving the coven seemed entirely out of the question, besides they were both certain that the elders would eventually change their minds, would have to, because their love was so strong it wouldn’t be shaken by their childish threats. Besides, Serapis had pledged his support in trying to push the separation through the council; he and Janus were always such good friends in trying to help them whenever they could.
Such thoughts vanished suddenly as Kate’s fingers pressed harder into Luc’s warm, pliable flesh and the intensity of the moment overtook them
Suddenly the door to the small garret room swung open. Not dramatically, but slowly and intentionally so as not to disturb the two lovers. From the darkness of the doorway Logan’s eyes blazed with fury as he beheld the scene in front of him; his naked wife and her former lover, their bodies locked together, writhing in their act of fornication while their combined moans pierced the silence of the night.
It was Luc who saw him first. His body froze in its rhythms, his arms tightening around Kate with protective urgency. Kate turned to face her husband, grasping at the bedsheets in an attempt to preserve some small amount of dignity for herself as Logan ripped her from Luc’s arms and flung her to the floor savagely.
“HARLOT!” Logan screamed at her, as she scrambled with the crumpled bedsheet in a desperate bid to cover her naked body. “Thought you’d make a fool of me did you? With him?”
Kate cried out as he made a grab at her, pulling her by the hair, forcing her to look him in the face before he spat on her and threw her back to the ground.
“Hey, leave her alone!” shouted Luc forcefully, quickly grabbing his pants and pulling them on. He didn’t like the looks of this; Logan was pretty much out of his mind with jealousy at the best of times, never mind when he had absolute proof of his wife’s infidelity.
Logan growled in Luc’s direction before he returned his attention to his wife. Kate felt frozen as she always did in his presence; she could do little more than stare up at the man, wide-eyed in fear, her hands holding firmly onto the thin cotton sheet that offered her only protection against whatever Logan might choose to do to her.
“Please… no…” she begged pitifully, eliciting little more than an amused sneer from her husband.
“I thought you’d know the price of betrayal by now Kate,” Logan spat bitterly, his eyes burning with furious rage and his face fixed into a merciless snarl. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to take her in hand and teach her some discipline. She was a woman, after all, and needed to be put in her place by someone who knew how to tame such insolence.
“Obviously I was wrong,” he sneered gleefully “I’ve been too soft on you in the past, but I think it’s time I taught you some respect…”
Slowly Logan began to remove the belt from around his trousers, holding it contemplatively between his hands, tightening and loosening his grip on the hard leather as he looked down at the bundle of naked limbs and bedsheets on the floor.
Luc didn’t wait for Logan to hit Kate; he saw the violent intent in his eyes and grabbed Logan’s wrist before he had time to strike. “I don’t think so,” he growled with protective ire, every muscle in his strong body was waiting to snap this toad in two if it came to it. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to let him lay a finger on the woman he loved.
“She’s my wife!” screeched Logan in fury at the man’s intervention, “Sanctified by the Gods, she gave herself freely to be mine and only mine… no body touches that which belongs to me and gets away with it…”
Luc could feel the magical energies swirling about the room yet he held firmly onto Logan’s wrist, determined not to release him.
“Did you think you could just get away with it and I’d be none-the-wiser? That you could carry on with your sordid little affair right under my nose and I would do nothing?” Logan flung out at Luc, catching him off balance before uttering a powerful deflection spell that propelled him across the room.
A sinister smirk crept across his face as Logan returned his interest to Kate. “Now for you my darling…”
In one swift motion he brought the belt down hard against Kate’s bare skin and again, and again, his anger growing with each stroke. Kate had never felt such pain in her life before. At first she tried to defend herself but as he increased the force of his blows she fell, unable to fend off his attack. She wept and cried out in agony as each stroke left raw marks across her back.
Logan was so absorbed in wreaking his vengeance on Kate that he never saw Luc come up behind him until it was too late. He was sent reeling by the force of the fist that collided heavily with the side of his face. Logan looked dazed; the belt had fallen from his hands as he struggled to regain his balance.
Luc knelt down and held Kate protectively in his arms, wrapping the bedsheet around her shaking body.
“You lay one hand on her again and I’ll kill you,” he warned assuredly, his voice calm and steady as he gently tended to his love. “You’ve no more claim to her Logan, you’ve lost.”
Logan glared at Luc malevolently as he held his wife, half contemplating taking him on; it would certainly make him feel better if he could beat the living daylights out of the man who had taken what rightfully belonged to him. But he knew better than to start fights he had no chance of winning. Luc was an experienced warrior and besides, Logan had other ways of exacting his revenge on the two, ways that would continue to haunt them long after he had passed from the earthly realm.
“I hope you both enjoyed tonight,” he growled viciously, a bitter gleam of absolute hatred in his eyes. Slowly he pulled himself up from the floor, wiping at his bloody nose. “The Council might not punish you for your treachery but I will make it the final act of my dying will to ensure that the two of you never again know the pleasures of your conjugation!”
With that final threat he slunk away, slamming the door to the garret shut behind him.
Luc let out a sigh of relief as the man left. He’d been more than willing to back up his own threats but he’d rather settle things in a more civilised manner. Tomorrow they would seek attendance with the Council of Elders and put the wheels in motion to make sure that Kate never had to see that vile man ever again.
Silently he turned his attentions back to Kate, helping her to her feet and guiding her back to the bed where they could sit more comfortably.
“I’ve… never… seen… anyone… so angry…” Kate gasped both from the pain she was in and the sheer shock at Logan’s reaction.
“It’s okay,” said Luc holding her close, wrapping her warmly in the bedsheets, “it’s over now, he won’t hurt you any more. The council will have to grant your separation after this. It’s over Kate.”
Kate looked doubtful, her eyes fixed on the doorway. “It doesn’t feel over.”
***PRESENT DAY- Wednesday, 14 March 2007 - 6:34am
64 Birch Street, Los Angeles***
Kate opened her eyes tiredly as the last, fading memories of that night dissolved from her mind. The scars from Logan’s brutal attack had vanished during the episode with the doppelganger - at least the physical ones had. The mental scars, she often found, were much harder to get rid of.
She sighed, looking out at the gradually lightening sky. She had spent most of the night here, sitting on the back porch looking out into the garden, a floral handmade comforter still draped over the swing seat. Kate had barely managed to sleep she felt so ill, sick with the thought of how dismal the situation between herself and Galen had become. It wasn’t every day that she ruined her marriage but it was beginning to seem familiar to her. At least Galen hadn’t beaten her to within an inch of her life, unlike Logan. But then again she was in the dilemma that she actually loved her husband this time.
That’s what stung. At least she knew why her first marriage had failed; she’d still been in love with Luc – that and Logan had never really cared about her, not in the beginning anyway. Just part of Serapis’ plans to keep her in the coven. But Kate loved Galen, if she was honest, more than she had ever loved Luc and despite that she’d still managed to mess things up.
Her hands fumbled around the cigarette packet. She hadn’t smoked one since she’d found out that she was pregnant with Emma but right now she found the urge to slip back into bad routines overwhelming. She was still teasing the thin sheaf of cellophane from the box when she heard a noise from inside the house.
She dropped the packet disinterestedly as she walked inside. The sound came again and she recognised it this time.
It was the doorbell.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 14th March 2007 – 8:15pm
The grounds at the rear of the mansion Delancre had procured for his stay in Los Angeles were incredibly spacious. The high wall and lines of spruce trees combined to make an effective barrier at the boundaries, and hid the activities within from any casual observer. Which was just as well, considering that those grounds were currently being trampled by ranks of demon soldiers.
Tash stood at the sideline, watching Ana put the troops through their paces. She had to admit, they moved very well in formation, executing their set moves with fluid cohesion. But she wondered how they would perform out on the streets – would they be as pretty out there as they were in here, under controlled conditions? She made a decision to approach Delancre about arranging a ‘field trip’ for them.
Just then, the man in question descended the steps from the house and Tash watched curiously as he called Ana to him. They were too far away for Tash to pick out any detail, but she saw Delancre open a large box he carried to show the contents to Ana.
“Pick one,” Ambrose told the Slayer. “You will take it with you to meet Cate and her Ghosts. Both are theirs, and they want them back. I have decided to give them their reward – if they are worthy of it.”
Ana peered in the box at the two weapons inside, noting with detachment that each was bound with human skin and the axe handle appeared to be made of bone. They were both simply made, but somehow beautiful in their stark simplicity. Hefting first the axe and then the sword, she made her choice. The claymore was heavy, but with Slayer strength she barely noticed the weight. It swung smoothly in her hand and she smiled at Delancre.
“So, pitched battle or single combat?” she asked.
“Ah, you know me too well, Ana dear,” Delancre purred. “A small battle, I’ve decided. Take Natasha with you, and five soldiers of your choice.” He paused, steepling his fingers in thought. “Tell Natasha nothing about the arrangement, just that we’ve learned where the vampire James MacPherson is to be found tonight. I’m sure that will pique her interest.”
Ana bowed her head. “As you will, my Lord.”
Buckling the scabbard around her waist, Ana sheathed the sword and returned to where Tash was watching with undisguised interest.
“Good news,” Ana called to her as she drew close. “The Lord Delancre has discovered the whereabouts of James MacPherson. If you would like to join us, I’ll be taking a small group with me to find him tonight.”
Tash’s face split into a broad grin. “Oh, yes, that’s very good news. Count me in.”
Ana smiled politely and surveyed the troops arrayed before her, pondering on the most desirable combination. “Hmm… Yes, I think they’ll do nicely.”
Turning to Tash, Ana said, “Go get some sunglasses for tonight and whatever you do, make sure you don’t lose them. Your life may depend on it.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** March 12th 2:02 am ***
Oz awoke with a start. His neck was hurting him badly enough that it had snapped him out of his nap on the hard hallway carpet. There had been no answer at the door to his knocking and none of the neighbors had seen fit to investigate.
Oz rolled over to keep his keys from digging into his leg when an idea came to him. Keys; including the key to his old apartment. He extracted it and stiffly walked downstairs to his old apartment. Trying it in the lock he was gratified to find it still worked.
Inside, he found that all of his furniture and things had been removed. *Sold at auction, no doubt,* he thought sourly.
In the bathroom he removed the damp, ill-fitting clothing and climbed into the shower. He turned the knob and braced for a stream of cold water but was disappointed. Drip. Drip. Drip was all he received. *They cut off the water,* he cursed inwardly.
He re-donned his baggy outfit and opened a window in case he needed to make a hasty exit. Cold air and rainy damp flowed into the room. Oz sat on the hardwood floor and tried to feel comfortable.
As he had done nearly every night of his human life he prayed, "Dear God, your servant Oz begs your forgiveness for his sins. He asks blessings on those he has ignored and slighted. He asks for the patience to give love to all and to think ill of none. I pray for deliverance from sin, and I thank you for the blessings you have given me. I especially ask with a penitent heart for your special blessings on…"
He paused. This was the part of the prayer where he always asked for blessings for anyone he had encountered during the day regardless of its outcome. But pray for Tash? Pray for those kids? Pray for Nikolai? *Yes,* his conscience nagged.
"Bless Tash, the judgmental bitch. Bless those hellspawn children and their violent evil ways. Bless Nikolai who has forgotten his friends in their hour of need. And please, God, bless James Anderson so much that his eyeballs pop out of his head and he experiences pain for all the remaining moments of his life."
*Amen,* he thought before shivering and settling into a more-or-less comfortable position.
*** 6:08 am ***
Oz opened his eyes with the shaft of light that lanced into his brain. The rain had stopped and there was a clean, fresh breeze blowing through the apartment. Oz looked out the window over the steep slope that the apartment building clung to precariously. The sun gave a golden hue to the surrounding cityscape and the rain had left the air crisp and fogless for the moment.
"Thanks, God," Oz mouthed. He exited the apartment not wanting to risk being charged with breaking and entering, or trespassing. As he began to walk down the road towards downtown LA he chuckled to himself, *Forgive us our trespasses…*
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
*** March 13th 9:11 pm ***
“No. No. Nononononono!” Alessa moaned, banging the palm of her hand against the car’s steering wheel. “Maldita sea! she cursed and got our of her, until then, so reliable car.
“This is just great, perfecto!” she continued to complain. “I should have listened to Chance, you are useless!” And to emphasize her words she kicked one of the traitorous VW’s tires.
“Damn!” she said again, less vehemently this time, and walked to the front, raising the car’s hood to check the engine. She touched some of the intricate mechanisms and finally groaned. “Who am I kidding?” She knew how to change a flat tire, but that was all, her mechanical knowledge stopped just there.
*And where the hell am I?* she asked herself, looking around. She had taken the highway exit when the car had started coughing and shaking, afraid the engine would blow up any minute. It was a miracle she had got to this place before it did just that. She remembered the name on the exit, Mulholland Drive, but that didn’t tell her much anyway. All she knew was that this drive was windy, isolated and near the ocean. The salty smell was strong, and she could even listen to the waves; she was probably near a cliff or something.
Resolutely she dug into her jacket pocket for her cell phone. Flipping it open she quickly dialled her apartment’s number, only to notice after a couple of seconds that it wasn’t making any noises; no beeps or rings or computer sounding voices. Nothing. She shook the thing, and tapped onto it before seeing that it was showing that it was getting no reception.
“Great,” she muttered under her breath, raising the cell phone to see if it got any signal, but it was completely dead.
“De mal en peor,” she groaned and leaned on the car, rubbing her eyes. The day had started so well! Well, it had been a great day till an hour ago when she had almost slept with Ellis on a billiard table! From then on, it all had gone downhill. The expression on his face when she rejected him, the car breaking down, the cell phone out of reception… from bad to worse. She let go a shaky laugh and turned around. She would have to walk… somewhere.
Oz tugged at the leg of his pants once more. The ill-fitting sweats that Tash had given him were adequate for covering him, but they failed to make him comfortable. It was a pity his pants had been so badly ripped in the aqueduct. He'd have killed for a pair of shorts or even bell bottoms. Oz shuddered, *Okay, maybe I'm not that desperate yet.*
A VW sped past him coughing and lurching. *Vacuum hose,* the mechanic in Oz diagnosed without much effort. He had been a mechanic so long it came as almost second nature. He watched as the plucky car rounded the bend and listened to the engine die just over the hill. Oz had just come from there and while the view was terrific, it was in a horrible location. No houses, no places to go for help.
*Don't do it. You always get into trouble when you help,* he thought. And he walked nearly a hundred feet before he found himself turning around and jogging back towards the car. *I am a mechanic, if nothing else,* he justified to himself.
As he walked he saw the car pulled to the side of the road and an attractive brown-haired woman looking very frustrated. Glancing down at his attaire, he figured he should give her some warning of his approach. His three-day old beard, scruffy clothing, and distinct... odor made him look less trustworthy than, say, Genghis Khan.
"Hello there," Oz called from about thirty feet away, "Need some help?"
Alessa whirled around, surprised, and before she could stop herself she answered. “As a matter of fact, I do.” As soon as she had spoken, she cursed herself. “ Estúpida, no estás en Santa María, ¿desde cuándo se puede aceptar ayuda de extraños en L.A.?1
The man looked like a bum, but at least he wasn’t a vampire. She didn’t distinguish their stench under the man’s not so nice odor. She straightened and gave him a shaky smile. Well, bums she could handle, even in her present weakened condition. This couldn't be that bad.
“Thank you,” she said, “It just… died. Do you know anything about cars?” she asked, hope in her voice. After this she vowed to take a mechanics course, she hated feeling this useless.
Oz chuckled and answered, "No se preocupe. No todos los extraños en LA son peligrosos. Algunos realmente quieren ayudar." 2
He walked forward slowly, "Besides, once upon a time, I was a pretty good mechanic. That, at least, hasn't changed."
Alessa cocked her head when he got into full view. Her guess hadn't been wrong, the man really looked like a vagabond, but there was something in his eyes that told her that his condition wasn’t usual but recent.
Most likely he was going through a bad moment. *Aren’t we all?* she asked herself and smiled at him. Besides, his perfect use of Spanish, not at all disfigured by an accent, was soothing.
“Then you are in an upper position here.” She made a gesture towards the opened hood of her VW, at the same time accepting and hopeful.
Oz nodded and looked into the engine compartment. He found the PCV valve and using his shirt managed to extract the hot part. He jammed the hose that had connected it into its socket. Looking around the hood he asked the woman, "Try to turn it over, now."
She obliged and the engine sputtered and coughed, but ran. Oz stepped back and admired his handiwork. He recalled Hebrews: "Let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works."
*I have provoked enough for today,* he thought. He wiped the grease from his hands on his shirt making it appear even more homely. Oz explained to the woman, "If you drive it - gently - up this road to the filling station you can get a new PCV valve from them or at least they can help you get one."
He smiled as he handed over the broken part. A daring thought jumped into his brain, and his mouth acted on it without pause, "Unless you want to give me a ride down there with you so I can get the right one for you."
Alessa looked at the thing in her hand; it could have been a poisonous serpent, for all she knew. She didn’t feel capable of dealing with one more problem tonight and she could as well give him a ride. She didn’t like the idea of leaving her saviour in the wilderness of this spot either. The man had helped her after all. She raised her eyes to him and smiled.
“Sure, you’d be doing me the favor.” She leaned over the companion’s seat to unlock the door. “Come on, let’s go, Mr…?”
*Why do they always have to ask my name? Or better yet, why do I always tell them my name?* Oz's brain swirled. *It is your name, it is who you are. You have no reason to hide.*
"Ozimandius DeAngelo - Most people call me Oz."
He waited for her to look shocked or speed off leaving him stranded here, but there was a complete blank reaction. *Finally, a break,* he thought, climbing into the VW.
The two of them rode in silence for a while and Oz was acutely aware of his dirtiness. It didn't help that the woman had rolled down her window preferring the LA smog to Oz's stench. He started to apologise for his state, "It has been a rough couple of days... week... well, months actually. You don't want to hear it all, anyway. Listen, I don't want to intrude too much, I'll just get your part and I'll be along my way."
Alessa turned to watch him for a second, and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, you aren’t intruding. In fact I don’t know what I’d have done if you didn’t show up like you did.” She took her hand from the wheel and stretched it towards Oz. “My name is Alessandra Hunt, by the way, but most people call me Alessa.”
Oz shook her hand amicably. "You have helped me too, you know. This is the most useful I've felt since I..." he trailed off. He had almost said, "…since I got out of jail," but for some reason he felt as if that might not be the right thing to say.
"... Since things started to go badly for me," he finished lamely.
She just raised an eyebrow, he had just confirmed her suspicion that he was only passing through a rough moment. “Things haven’t been easy for me lately, either. But fortunately I had friends and family to help me through.”
She took her eyes off the road to look at him again; the expression on his face told her he most probably hadn't. “Is there a place I could drop you after we get my car repaired? It’s the least I can do after you helped me.”
Oz hated this helpless feeling. "You've been really sweet, but I have nowhere to go, and no-one left to care for me. Unless you want to offer me a job, I think you will be better off leaving me behind."
The feeling of déjà vu was so strong that she had to clasp her hands on the wheel strongly. She had said those same words to Nikolai not long ago, and her life seemed to have a sense of direction again after his positive response.
Why couldn’t she do the same for this man? Of course, he was a stranger, but he had come to help her without asking for anything in return, and he seemed to be a handy man, with cars at least.
“What can you do?” she asked.
Oz blinked once in disbelief, "Uh... pretty much anything. I can do some carpentry, painting, or landscaping. Although my wife seemed to think I wasn't able to distinguish between weeds and flowers. What kind of work do you have?"
“Well, I inherited a house and I’m intending to move into it in the near future. It would need some maintenance: carpentry, painting, landscaping…” she winked at him and smiled at his disbelieving look,
“Those kind of things. I can't offer you much in the way of money, but there’s a fully liveable apartment over the garage that you could use.”
*Praise the Lord.* "I can definitely use a place to live. And as long as I have some income, my needs are basic. Anything would be appreciated."
He felt giddy, and he could feel tears welling in his eyes. "It feels strange to receive kindness for a change," he said through a thick throat. He spontaneously leaned over and hugged her gently, "God Bless you, Alessa. You may have saved my life."
Alessa laughed. “I don’t think it would’ve gotten to that, but I guess we have a deal”, she said as they approached a filling station. “Well, have this thing done and I’ll drive you to my house, it’s not far from here.”
*And Ellis is probably gone by now, too* she added to herself. She also vowed to get a good salary for Oz, even if she had to ask the company to pay him to make it good.
*****
Translations:
1) "This is not Santa María, since when can you accept help from strangers in LA?"
2) "Don't worry, not all strangers in LA are dangerous. Some genuinely want to help."
Galen Moves Out
***Wednesday, 14 March 2007 - 6:37am***
Kate opened the front door slowly.
As she saw Galen standing on the other side she felt her heart skip a beat and she pulled the door back fully, unable to prevent a slight smile of relief from spreading across her face.
“Galen… you’re back!” she said without really thinking. Just seeing him there after everything that they had said to one another yesterday… a part of her genuinely believed that she’d never see him again.
“Can I come in?” Galen asked gruffly before clearing his throat, his feet shuffling on the doormat awkwardly. He could barely even look Kate in the eyes but when he did he felt so sick inside. The things he’d said to her, the names he’d called her, and now…
As Kate stood to one side to allow Galen into the hallway she suddenly noticed his injuries - a busted lip and a great deal of bruised swelling around his left eye. “Oh my god… Galen? What happened to you?” she asked in bewilderment, having to hold herself back from attending to his wounds.
Galen looked around uncomfortably, digging his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. This all felt so strange, he hadn’t expected to have to see Kate again so soon after the other day and yet here he was. The worst thing was he could see how ashamed and disgusted Kate felt with herself. It was obvious that she hadn’t slept much the previous night either and as much as he hated himself for that, for the fact that she still felt guilty when he had betrayed her also, he couldn’t help but feel glad that she was hurting.
“Look I’m not ‘back’ Kate,” he said harshly, feeling as angry with himself for his own hypocrisy as much as her. “As for this,” he gestured to his black eye, “well let’s just say I paid your boyfriend a little visit last night.”
Kate’s eyes were wide with alarm and she followed Galen as he wandered into the living room. “Damen?” she asked uncertainly, “Galen, please… what happened, what did you do?”
“Worried about him are you?” he asked bitterly, “Well no need, he probably fared as well as I did.”
“I’m not worried about him,” said Kate anxiously, noticing just how tired and washed out her husband looked. His hair was ruffled and sticking up a bit like he’d barely slept all night, he hadn’t even shaved and his shirt was sprayed with blood that she just prayed wasn’t his own. “I’m worried about you…” she insisted, “Damen’s a hired gun; he could have killed you!”
“I could have killed him!” said Galen sharply, his voice brittle with anger. As he said the words he could truly have believed it, if the Super hadn’t shown when he did either himself or Damen Kirk would be dead right now. Of course Damen’s dirty little comments hadn’t helped things, only further fuelling his rage.
Kate looked even more alarmed, she could feel the rage and anger surging through Galen like a torrent. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid…”
Galen winced a little at her words, he was still angry with her, that was for sure. Despite what had happened between himself and Daye last night he couldn’t seem to turn off his disgust for what Kate had done. He knew it was the worst kind of hypocrisy but he just couldn’t help it.
“He’s still alive, mores the pity,” Galen mumbled, shuffling awkwardly in the room. “I have to say though, you couldn’t have picked a classier guy if you’d tried. Why Reah even gave him the time of day I’ll never know, and you… I just can’t believe that you would let a jerk like that anywhere near you!”
Kate looked away in embarrassment; she felt so bad about Reah she could barely think, it was one thing to screw up your own relationship but the prospect that she might have also injured one of her friends in the process… She didn’t want to even start down that path and just hoped that Reah and Damen’s relationship was as casual as Tash had implied.
“I, I told you what happened…” she stammered incoherently, feeling frustrated and confused.
“I don’t want to hear it!” Galen shouted abruptly. “Look Kate… I didn’t come here to talk. I just need to get a few of my things…” his voice dropped suddenly, seeing the reaction on her face. He kept his eyes low as he made his way upstairs towards the bedroom, not daring to make eye contact with her lest she should uncover his own guilt.
Kate followed him, hanging back in the bedroom doorway. “Your things?”
“Yeah my things Kate, you can’t expect me to stay here and try to figure out-”
“-No, no, I don’t, I…” Kate interrupted, sighing wearily. All she wanted was a chance to try to explain, to talk – when they were both thinking a bit more rationally than yesterday. She’d thought about little else all night apart from what she’d say to him. But now that moment had arrived all rational thought suddenly seemed to vanish and all she wanted to do was beg for his forgiveness.
Kate watched as Galen moved about the room collecting various possessions and she leaned against the doorframe tiredly. “You need some space, I understand that.”
“Good,” said Galen bluntly, pulling a weekend bag from the wardrobe. “Then everyone understands and there isn’t a problem.” Galen artfully avoided Kate’s hurt glances, he knew he was being a complete bastard. He had no right to condemn her any more, not after what he’d done. But he still felt that his decision was the right one. Some space, time apart would help them both, and then maybe… maybe he’d figure out how he was going to tell her about Daye.
Kate was silent for a moment, watching Galen as he unzipped the bag and dropped it on the bed. He seemed so cold, she thought as she watched him, his actions executed with rigid precision. Kate felt sick that is was her behaviour that had caused him to shut himself off like this. “Where..?” she began hesitantly, “I mean, where are you staying?”
Galen looked up confused, a frown wrinkling his forehead.
Kate bit her lower lip nervously. “In case I need you… an… emergency, or… something-”
Galen’s frown grew more confused. “Kate this isn’t- I’m not going on a retreat or something. I’m moving out because I don’t want to talk to you, because… because I can’t even look at you right now without feeling…” he stopped, feeling his anger burning inside. “I’ll let you know where I am when I’m good and ready okay? Until then…”
Kate swallowed back a lump in her throat, “Okay, yes, I mean, you’re right.” She continued to watch as Galen grabbed a shirt from the back of a chair, stuffing it into his bag. “Oh… wait… don’t take that,” she said almost without thinking, removing the shirt from the bag. She looked up at Galen, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. “It, it hasn’t been washed,” she explained uneasily.
“Here…” said Kate as she walked numbly over to a drawer and pulled out a few things and packed them into the bag. She moved over to the wardrobe and withdrew a bundle of thick grey wool. “You’ll need a sweater, it, it can still get cold at night at this time of year…”
Galen looked her in the eye as she handed him the clothes. He knew she was trying to put a brave face on things, pretend she wasn’t hurting, but he knew her better. Even though he still felt angry at what she’d done he couldn’t help but hate himself for the hurt he was causing now. He wished she wasn’t here so he could do this in peace.
“Thanks, Kate,” he said with forced politeness, his voice sounding cold and distant. He took the sweater from her, their hands touching momentarily. Kate’s fingers instinctively tried to take hold of his but Galen snatched the sweater from her hands, turning his back on her as he quickly screwed it up into his bag.
“I don’t need to take much,” he informed her matter-of-factly, trying in vain to keep control of his emotions. His eye caught the hopeful glimmer in Kate’s eyes as she misinterpreted his meaning and he quickly added, “If I need anything else I can always buy new.”
Kate nodded stiffly as she silently watched her husband empty drawers and remove items from the wardrobe. She knew then, watching him, that he had no intention of their separation being anything but long term. Tears welled up in her eyes at that realisation and she had to bite her lower lip to prevent it from trembling. When Galen was finished he heaved the bag on to his shoulder and moved towards the door in which she stood. Kate remained unmoving for a moment, as though her feet were rooted to the spot.
“Kate…” began Galen, not wanting to be harsh but also not wanting to spend any more time in her company than he had to. It was too hard, just looking at her was painful. Kate sighed dejectedly and stepped to one side, letting Galen push past her. He looked once more into her eyes as their bodies lightly brushed against each other. God he didn’t know if he could do this, it hurt so much.
Galen turned his back, fusing a hostile expression into all of his features as he jogged down the staircase and towards the front door, looking around the house one last time before his hand rested on the door handle.
“Wait!”
Galen stopped, his hand still hovering on the doorknob as he heard Kate’s soft voice. After a moment he turned to look at her. She was still standing on the staircase, a few steps from the bottom.
“Stay?” she said again, her eyes were wide and pleading, shining with unshed tears. “Please Galen, don’t leave me…”
“Don’t do this Kate…” he said sadly. He could handle anything she threw at him but not this, even with her betrayal and his own fresh in his mind he couldn’t stand to see her cry.
Kate descended the final few stairs and walked until there was not more than a couple of feet distance between them. “I didn’t want to beg but I don’t care any more.” She shook her head in despair, holding back the tears in her eyes. “Forgive me Galen, please… can’t you just forgive me? I know what I did was wrong, I know I hurt you badly… but I can’t do this on my own, I need you…”
Galen reached out and took her hand, gently holding it in his own. His fingers carefully stroked hers, focusing on the one that held her wedding rings. Kate looked down sadly, watching what he was doing. He slowly turned the pretty engagement ring around, observing the way in which the immaculate, rectangular diamond caught the light.
“Remember when I put that there?” he asked quietly, his voice struggling to retain its composure. “That was the happiest day of my life next to seeing Emma born. I thought we were going to be together forever…”
Kate fought to hold back her tears but it was useless. With a series of short sobs she cried out sorrowfully, using her free hand to wipe away the tears that rolled down her cheeks.
Galen was too lost in his thoughts to be affected by Kate’s tears at that moment, “You said it was tempting fate, our getting married. That we couldn’t possibly be as happy as we were in that moment.”
“I remember,” sobbed Kate, clearing her throat a little. She didn’t like to think of it now, how she had resisted him. Their wedding might not have been big or expensive but it had been beautiful nonetheless. She had been joined with the man she loved, what more was there to ask for?
“But we were happy weren’t we?” Galen continued, “Happier. I’ve never been so… content… Bliss, that’s the word isn’t it? Blissful. There wasn’t anything more I could have wanted, I had you, Emma…”
Kate’s eyes began to cloud up with fresh tears again and she sobbed quietly, reaching out to trail her fingers against his cheek. “I love you Galen-”
Kate’s declaration went ignored as Galen continued, his own eyes looking red and sore as though he were struggling hard to hold back his feelings. “Perhaps you were right, maybe I pushed things too quickly, but it all felt right at the time.” He pulled back from Kate’s attempts to touch him, his hand finding the door handle again. “Maybe we should just end it all now, save ourselves any more hurt…”
“No!” moaned Kate woefully as she lurched forward and grabbed hold of Galen’s arm, holding on to him for all she was worth. “Please Galen, that’s not what I want. I know I hurt you but please, please don’t go! We can get through this, I know we can but we have to talk, you have to talk to me, let me make you understand…”
Galen turned back to face her and Kate relinquished her hold on him, feeling a little afraid by the cold look in his eyes. “Please Galen, I, I love you so much that has to count for something.” She wiped at her tear-streaked face. “We, we can work this out, please, we have so much worth saving. Just, just let’s talk about it…”
“Why can’t you understand?” said Galen firmly, growing angry, “I don’t want to talk about it! That’s the last thing I want right now! Just thinking about you and that asshole Damen Kirk- Jeez, just saying his name makes me want to smash something!” Galen dropped his bag on the floor, clenching his fists in fury. “Just thinking about you and him together,” he took a deep breath to try and control himself, “it turns my stomach.”
“I know…” Kate wailed uncontrollably, still wiping at the never-ending flood of tears that rolled steadily down her cheeks. “When I think about what I did, how much it has hurt you- both of us, I feel the same, I feel sick and rotten inside. Like I want to just rip out all the pain and hurt but I can’t!” She wandered back over to the staircase and slumped down to the bottom stair, exhausted. “If only we hadn’t argued that night.”
Galen’s head suddenly snapped in her direction hearing that niggling voice in the back of his head. A frown steadily gathered on his forehead as her final words ringed in his mind. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, a slight edge of anger gilding his words.
Kate looked up, a little stunned by the level of accusation in his tone, “Well I just…” she began uncertainly, “I just thought, if we hadn’t argued that night I might never-”
“So this is all my fault? Is that what you’re saying? That I drove you to sleep with that… man?” The anger in Galen’s voice appeared to step up a notch as the stream of questions left his mouth. “I guess that makes it all my fault as usual?”
“Wh-what?” Kate stammered in confusion, “N-no, no, that’s not what I’m saying, I know it was my fault, I know that… I just meant that circumstances… I was just lonely and scared and upset, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“My fault as well I’m guessing…” Galen all but growled, his hands balling into fists again as the fury rose within him. He wasn’t just angry at her, he was angry at himself, angry at Daye, angry at the whole damn world if he was being honest. Kate was just an easy target right now.
“Galen, what are you talking about?” Kate asked incredulously, her alarm increasing as she noted the continual clenching of his fists like he was just looking for someone to lash out at. She knew that she should just let him go, that they should talk later when he’d cooled off some but she couldn’t, she couldn’t let him go. Allowing him to walk out that door would be like admitting that their marriage was over and she wasn’t ready to lose him, not now. Not ever.
“I’m not blaming you,” she continued, rising to her feet again. “It was my fault okay? I admit that! I was stupid, I hurt you but it was a mistake! Please don’t punish me for a mistake!” Kate took several steps closer to him, her eyes pleading forgiveness. “Haven’t you ever made a mistake? A stupid, stupid mistake that you’d do anything to take back, to make all right again?”
Galen’s eyes were wide with apprehension as Kate grasped one of his hands in both of hers, holding it to her lips while she kissed and rolled her cheek against it. Her words… it was as though she knew about his own indiscretion and yet he knew she couldn’t, she would be distraught if she ever found out about what he’d done.
“I’d do anything, please!” Kate continued to beg pitifully. “Just give me a second chance. I swear, nothing like this would ever happen again, I wouldn’t let it, I love you please, please don’t leave me!”
Galen looked down at her as she held his hand against her cheek desperately. “Is that what you said to your first husband?” he asked with a tired intake of air. “Let’s face it Kate, we both know this isn’t the first time you’ve committed adultery.”
Kate suddenly looked up, the tears in her eyes giving her a startled appearance. Galen’s words made her feel sick inside and not just because they were true. After a long silence had passed she shook her head firmly. “That was a long time ago,” she said with determination.
“But not so long for history to repeat itself.” Galen’s voice was cold and empty, cutting through Kate like knives. He couldn’t help it, the rage was so pure and intense within him, all he wanted was to hurt her, make her feel the pain that he was in. He had so much guilt and anger inside all he wanted was to feel it lessen, he knew he was being unfair but the pain of her infidelity burned hotly through him like a stake.
Kate stood firmly, using all her strength to maintain control over her tears. “The difference being that I didn’t love Logan. You know, I told you how things were between us, how he hurt me, physically abused me for almost two years of my life!” Kate wiped at her eyes as she felt a few errant tears roll down her cheeks, the memories of her marriage with Logan still made her feel ill even now that he was dead. His power over her had been immense. She just couldn’t believe that after everything she had confided in Galen about, things she had never told anyone else, that he would use it against her now just to make a point.
“Things were different with Logan,” she soothed, trying not to feel so angry. He was hurting after all, she had to remind herself of that fact. His callousness was entirely justified. “I would have done anything to leave him. Hurting him didn’t matter because for all intents and purposes we were enemies, bound by ritual into a sham of a marriage.”
Kate wanted to reach out and touch Galen but she didn’t dare. The expression on his face made him untouchable, out of reach. “What happened with Damen didn’t mean anything, it couldn’t have done because I love you, only you.”
“You’re wrong Kate,” said Galen grimly, “It did mean something, because that one night, that one night of lust, of cavorting with another man ruined everything!” He held his head in pain, “God! You don’t even see it do you? You’re supposed to be so damn perceptive and you can’t even see what’s staring you directly in the face!”
Kate looked confused, “What? What am I supposed to see? I know how much I’ve hurt you, if things were the other way around I’d be devastated! But I love you, we love each other! Isn’t that what matters?”
Galen sighed tiredly, closing his eyes. “You are such a child Kate,” he said wearily, “You talk about love like it’s the solution to everything! Like it’s the only thing that counts! Life isn’t some Lennon and McCartney song you know? There are other things that matter! Like loyalty and honesty and trust…” his voice faltered suddenly, becoming quiet. He wasn’t just talking about Kate in that last comment, he knew he was as much to blame for their problems as she was. But the fact was if he couldn’t be loyal and honest with his wife then what kind of marriage did they have anyway?
“If you really loved me…” he continued tiredly, “then you wouldn’t have thrown away our entire marriage for the sake of that one night!”
Again Galen turned towards the door but he didn’t get so much as a step closer before Kate’s voice rang through the room again.
“How can you say that?” she asked firmly, waiting for Galen to turn and face her before she continued. “How can you say that one night ruined our marriage when it was already in ruin before hand? She looked defiantly into Galen’s eyes, her determination shining through the unshed tears in her own. “You might think you’re walking out on me now, but you already abandoned me the day our daughter died.”
Galen’s face hardened, if that was possible, looking more rigid and unfeeling than before.
Kate continued. “I know I was wrong to do what I did, but I needed you when Emma died, then more than ever. And you just shut me out! Pretended everything was normal when I was going though my own private hell.” Kate’s eyes burned feverishly into his, “And stupid me, I thought you were just grieving in your own way when all the time you were blaming me. Blaming me Galen! For the death of our baby!!”
“So this whole thing was about getting back at me? I hurt you so you decided to do the same to me?”
“No Galen!” cried Kate, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. “This was about me needing help! It should have been your help! Your love. Why weren’t you there for me? All I wanted was for you to hold me and tell me things would be okay. It might have been a lie, but I needed to hear it… from you.” Kate could barely control herself now as her tears rolled freely down her cheeks again. “That’s why I slept with Damen, because just for once I needed to feel wanted, and loved, and cared for!”
Galen’s face flinched several times before he spoke. He’d wanted similar things from Daye but he hardly dared to think of that now in case Kate might pick up on it. “And did he?” he asked instead, “make you feel loved and cared for and wanted? All those things that I failed so miserably to provide you with?”
Kate looked away but Galen, suddenly infused with renewed anger strode forwards and grabbed her arm, pulling her harshly to look at him. “Tell me Kate, I want to know! Did you enjoy it? Did you like him touching you?”
“YES!” cried out Kate defiantly, “Yes, I did, okay!? Is that what you want to hear? How we fucked all night ‘till we were both exhausted? How amazing the sex was… how I couldn’t get enough! I mean we both know what a whore I am, right? Is that what you want to hear? Is it?!”
Galen suddenly lost control; all he could see was Kate and Damen together, his hand had already swung towards her in an effort to stop the words coming from her mouth before he realised what he was doing. Kate cried out as the back of his hand struck her down, knocking her to the floor. She just sat there in a heap, holding her burning cheek, a look of complete surprise and shock on her face.
Galen just looked at her, unable to move – he was as surprised as Kate, and horrified at what he’d just done. Kate had told him about how her first husband used to take such pleasure in ‘teaching her respect’ and Galen had promised her that he would never hurt her in such a way. Now here he was looking down at his own wife, a woman he loved more than life, a woman he would gladly die for. It was just like… in that moment, everything had come together. Kate sleeping with Damen, his own indiscretion with Daye, Emma’s death…
Galen quickly turned away, biting his clenched fist in turmoil. He could see the room swing in and out of focus like a bad impressionist painting. Shakily he went to sit down on the bottom stair.
A long moment had passed before he even attempted to speak. “Kate, I’m-”
“-I know,” Kate interrupted, gently rubbing her sore cheek.
Galen watched her, suddenly rising to his feet he walked and knelt beside her. “Let me see…” he said, removing her hand so he could look at what he’d done. The side of her face was terribly red but it didn’t look as bad as he’d imagined. “I didn’t mean to…” he said sadly, wiping a few of her tears aside with the edge of his thumb.
“I know,” Kate repeated. She still felt shaken; she was more surprised that he’d actually hit her than the force of the blow itself. But the fear she felt inside, it reminded her too much of what had happened with Logan all those years ago. She had never expected Galen to hit her. “I shouldn’t have said what I did…” she began, her voice sounding infinitely futile. “I… I don’t know why, I didn’t even mean it, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it…”
“I still shouldn’t have-” Galen interjected. His father had always told him you never hit a woman, you just don’t. Over the years Galen had bent that rule from time to time, it was just something that happened in his line of work. But his personal life was a different matter. “I, I just, all I could think of was you and him and…” *…and how much of a hypocrite I am…* “It was wrong,” Galen said firmly, “it doesn’t matter why.”
Kate nodded but she just felt numb, after everything that had been said between them, nothing had been resolved, they’d just created a whole new set of problems.
Galen sighed, “I can’t carry on like this Kate,” he said sadly, forcing himself to look into her tearful eyes. “I love you so much but we’re tearing each other apart…” he gently trailed his fingers against the red mark on her cheek, “I don’t want to hurt you any more. I think maybe… maybe it would be best if we spend some time apart, give us both some space to…” he sighed again, “I don’t know, get some perspective or something.”
Kate nodded reluctantly, her hand reaching up once more to rub her sore cheek. It was the last thing in the world she wanted, to be alone. But she could tell that Galen had made up his mind regardless.
“You’re right,” she said after a long silence had passed, looking into his eyes sadly, “We can’t go on like this.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 14th March 2007 – 9:30pm
Tash could hardly credit it. She’d lived in LA for two years now and had no idea that such a slice of virtually untouched wilderness existed so close to the heart of the city. Barely a mile away to the northeast cars whizzed along Ventura Freeway, while to the south Sunset Boulevard carried its own load of traffic. The noise of the city could hardly be heard here though, the roar of traffic muted to a distant hum by the lush foliage of Runyon Canyon Park.
Neither Ana nor her demon troop, however, stopped to notice the eerie night time beauty around them. Instead they marched resolutely down the track to the point where Delancre had told them to set up. Tash hung back a little. She was here to see how they operated as a team, and she was hardly about to try to insert herself into their practised manoeuvres. Besides, she was here to settle a score.
Settling her sunglasses firmly on her nose, she hunkered beside a tree some distance behind as Ana and the five demons slowed, spreading out as they scented the presence of other humans. Ana raised her hand briefly, and three of the demons melted into the bushes on the side of the track. If she hadn’t known they were there, Tash would swear they had simply vanished.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she shivered. Vampires were nearby – more than one, she surmised. Well, it only made sense that James would have some buddies along. She just wondered what the hell he was up to in the middle of nowhere like this. Maybe he’d found an even more isolated place than that broken down house to perform his tortures. Setting her jaw, Tash’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the area looking for him, determined to make him pay for the pain she’d suffered at his hands.
Cate, Monk and the rest of the Ghosts who weren’t hidden stood in plain view for all to see, covered from head to toe in black body armour and each carrying their own array of weapons. Cate watched as James checked the ammo for his guns and swung his broadsword around trying to get a feel for it.
She walked over to James and spoke softly to him, “Just like the old days, eh?”
James smirked at the comment and shrugged. “Yeah, but in the old days we didn’t have guns that could fire 1000 rounds in a minute. Hell, in the old days you’d be lucky to get three shots off in a minute.”
Cate looked at James and motioned towards the entrance of the canyon. “Can you smell that?”
James gave a sharp nod. “And I think I know one of the people with the Slayer.”
He began to march down the canyon with the Ghosts in tow. He could make out three figures in the distance which made him very nervous – the others where hiding somewhere. James raised his wrist to his mouth and whispered into it, “The rest of their crew are hiding. All Ghosts keep an eye out.”
James walked until they were twenty feet from the Slayer and stopped dead in their tracks. “So you’re the new Slayer. Met a couple of your kind before – pretty bad ass fighters I must admit.”
Ana inclined her head to James in acknowledgement, eyeing the group accompanying him. Cate stood beside him, and seven others in body armour clustered behind. Ana gave a feral grin and brandished the sword she held. It was a hefty claymore with a smooth blade and a leather-wrapped hilt, which close inspection would reveal was in fact human skin. Behind her the two demons flexed their not inconsiderable muscles and waved about their own nasty looking scimitars. All three wore sunglasses, which looked somewhat incongruous on the humanoid demons, but they seemed not to care.
Ana held her sword out to Cate, tantalisingly close. “I see you have ignored my Lord Delancre’s conditions and brought more troops than you were entitled. Never mind, I shall defeat you anyway.” She glanced at the claymore and smirked. “This is yours, I hear. You want it, come and get it.”
Further up the track, Tash growled low in her throat when she saw James emerge. She began to drift through the trees alongside the track, closer to the centre of the action. The track curved slightly and Tash used that to get a better angle on James and the group of soldiers with him. Of the nine beings she could see, the woman beside James and two of the soldiers possessed only the black aura of vampires and Tash growled again. As Ana spoke with James and the vampiress, she raised her firearm and sighted along it, the report of her shot echoing among the trees. The bullet hit home in James’ chest, causing him to stagger back but little more.
Ana heard the shot and grinned, her white teeth gleaming in the moonlight, and while he was off-balance she lunged at James with the sword. The two demons behind her charged at the men accompanying James, scimitars raised high as they ran.
Monk was the first to react among the group. With a flick of his wrists two roman gladii appeared in each hand. He charged at the first demon and began to twirl and swing the swords at the demon’s body, followed shortly by the rest of the Ghosts charging into the demons. Monk heard the sound of bone breaking and turned to watch Rook being held high in the air by his arm while Dreggy and Shorty punched, kicked and clawed at the demon that was holding Rook in the air.
He looked at the ground where their weapons lay and Monk screamed, “Shorty, fucking tendon the bastard!”
Shorty picked up the katana and sliced the demon’s achilles tendons, causing it to drop to the ground whereupon the badly injured Rook pulled his Desert Eagle out with his good arm and shot the demon in the face.
Monk turned in time to see the other demon slam its fist into his face, sending Monk sprawling to the ground. He looked up in time to roll out of the way of the demon’s sword and jumped to his feet. Turning to look at the two vamps in the team he saw they were on the ground looking very confused with what looked to be the remains of Prophet – the only father in the entire team. Monk looked up at the demon and lunged at him trying to send his sword into the demon’s carotid artery.
James stretched out his arm as the Slayer swung the claymore at him. He grabbed the lowermost part of the sword and pulled her closer to him. As he fell onto his back he slammed his foot hard in the Slayer’s gut and launched her arse over elbows, but she still didn’t let go of the sword.
James quickly popped up on his feet and turned to look at the Slayer, drawing his sword at the same time. “First of all, Slayer, you really got to learn how to use that thing. You are using it all wrong.” He lunged at her with his sword, hoping to hit home.
As Monk attacked it, the muscled demon raised its scimitar and laughed, swiping the blade down in an arc, batting Monk’s sword aside as though it were a child’s toy. It advanced on Monk and swung at him, but the man’s drug-hyped reflexes had him dodging out of the way before the blow was half completed. Continuing on its trajectory, the demon spied a fresh target and slashed its sword through the vampire’s throat.
From the corner of her eye Ana noted the dust settling to the ground and ticked off the numbers in her head. *Two down, one wounded, six to go.* But the majority of her attention was focused on the fight before her. The hills rang with the clash of her sword with James’ as they circled around on the uneven ground. Still, she knew she still had aces up her sleeve and though James was good, she knew he couldn’t disarm her.
Cate circled the duel warily, looking for an opportunity to flank the Slayer. For just a moment Ana left an opening and Cate darted in to attack, only to have her knife-arm wrenched backwards at the last moment.
“Now, now,” Tash whispered in her ear, “That’s not very sportsmanlike, is it?”
Before Cate could respond, she and Tash were both startled to see the dead demon rising from the ground, the hole in its face knitting together. It shimmered for a second and then there were two demons standing, shaking their heads. Tash almost laughed to see that both of them still wore sunglasses. The scimitar, however, had fallen so there was only one weapon available. One of the pair scooped it up and both bellowed as they charged back into the fray.
“Now that’s a neat trick,” Tash commented.
Cate looked at Tash and went into game face. “Sorry to do this to ya, hon.” She grabbed Tash’s wrist and twisted it round to leave her chest exposed whereupon Cate slammed her open hand into her chest sending her flying several feet backwards.
Cate walked towards Tash growling as she went, “So what? We save your fucking life and now you are trying to kill us girl. You have no fucking idea who you are fighting for.”
The vampire’s head fell limply to the ground as his body burst into dust, giving the demon enough time to see Monk appear through the dust. The demon swung his sword at Monk’s head but Monk quickly ducked out of the way and swung his sword towards the demon’s arm hoping to make it less deadly.
Dreggy and Shorty were looking helpless at this point. They were on the defensive, just blocking and parrying the attacks the two demons sent their way, trying and hoping not to kill them so another two could appear. Dreggy was the first to go, his sword smashed away by a powerful blow from the first demon. He knew what was going to happen next, and watched as the demon sank the sword into his chest. He looked into the eyes of the demon and smirked as he took his hands from behind his back. In each hand he held two incendiary grenades, each with the pins missing.
Shorty rolled under the second demon’s lunge while dragging the katana across its abdomen. As he got back to his feet he felt the demon grab onto his back and pull him into a headlock. Shorty felt the muscles in his neck strain; he had done this hundreds of times on people but never had it done to him. He felt for the grenades on his belt and pulled each of the pins. Six seconds each – he would never have thought he would have died like this. Meanwhile Rook crouched behind a rock reloading his gun with his good arm and praying for a miracle.
Two explosions rocked the park, sending birds screaming up into the air, their sleep disturbed. Tash smiled as she leapt back to her feet and replied to Cate, “Oh, I’m not here to kill any of you. Just James. He’s the one who hurt me, after all. The rest of this is between you and Delancre, as I understand it. And it looks like your guys aren’t faring too well right now.”
The two demons were splattered across the countryside, but it had taken the sacrifice of two Ghosts to achieve that. There were only Monk, Rook and a vampire left, along with Cate and James. Monk was fighting the remaining scimitar-wielding demon while Ana and James whirled in a frenzied dance of blades. Ana smiled as she fought, feeling her blood zinging through her veins. And she wanted to show the Ghosts exactly how badly they were outclassed. She whistled once, sharply, and the bushes on either side of the track rustled.
One demon with granite-grey skin lumbered onto the track, followed by another that was a vivid green. From the other side emerged a demon that looked almost human but for the two short horns in its head.
Tash’s grin became broader as the three new figures emerged. “See,” she said to the vampiress approaching her, “we haven’t used our quota yet.”
Tash launched herself at Cate, barrelling into her. Cate swung at Tash as she went past, and fire shot through Tash as Cate’s fist pounded into her kidney. But this vampire wasn’t the one she was here for.
“My turn,” she yelled to Ana as Tash flicked her own sword out. Jeet hadn’t had time to show her much before he’d wound up in hospital, but Tash was keen to try out the new moves she had learned from him.
Ana shot Tash an indecipherable look, then turned her attention to Cate instead as Tash faced James. He bore a nick on one cheek, and her bullet had made a nice hole in his chest. None of it seemed to slow him down, though.
James smiled as he saw Tash come close to him. “Well, hello Tash. Nice seeing you again, can’t we just talk this out?”
Tash lunged at James with her sword, which James barely parried. “I guess not then darling,” he said.
Cate looked the Slayer up and down and grinned. “So you’re the Slayer that Ambrose wanted, eh? You don’t look anything special… well, nor did the others for that matter.”
Ana swung the claymore at Cate’s head but was met with a standard issue combat knife blocking the large sword’s desired target.
“Fuck sake Slayer, don’t they teach you anything? You are swinging that thing like a baseball bat. Why don’t I show you how to use it?”
Cate shoulder tackled Ana, knocking her to the ground, but then she heard the call.
Monk was doing his best to avoid the demon’s attacks but he was getting tired. The demon swung his sword which skimmed past Monk’s head but quickly followed up with a left hook which knocked Monk to the ground. Monk looked up to see the tip of the blade come crashing down upon him but managed to move out of the way of the blade, the whole time thinking, *Why the fuck not?*
He raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke. “I’m ordering a metal storm. I want a fucking metal storm down here now.”
James, Cate and the last remaining vampire both lunged for cover as all hell broke loose upon them. The hidden Ghosts fired their GPMG’s down upon the opposite forces and hoped to hell it worked. Bishop pushed his way up through his covered foxhole and set alight everything that didn’t look human. The flame thrower tossed the fire across the valley setting fire to everything in its path.
Ana’s Slayer reflexes had her diving for cover almost as quickly as her opponent, while Tash was close on her heels. As Tash dove behind a large rock her sunglasses flew off and she swore a vicious streak, then muttered furiously at having her chance to kill James interrupted like this. But there was little she could do right now except cower behind the rock and wait for the bullets to stop flying. Keeping her head down Tash frantically scanned the ground for her glasses.
The most human looking demon chanted for a moment, then one of the ambushers found his gun had become instantly red hot. He dropped it, cursing and trying to ignore the pain in his hands. His gloves had melted to his skin. The mage turned his attention to the next sniper, twisting the metal of his barrel so that it misfired, exploding in the man’s face. Before he could go on to the next, however, a spray of bullets cut across the demon’s body and he fell to the ground.
The demon with skin the colour of granite may as well have been made of the stuff, the Ghosts who looked at him were thinking. Bullets bounced off his hide and he didn’t seem to feel them at all as he removed his sunglasses with slow deliberation. Those who were watching him and aiming at him found their thoughts growing slower as he turned his own gaze to meet theirs. Three of them had turned to stone before the cry went out on the radio to look away from the grey demon.
In the meantime, the demon with the scimitar found its attack on Monk thwarted by this new threat rising out of the ground. Roaring, it ran at Bishop ready to hack the man to pieces, but liquid fire poured out of Bishop’s weapon, bathing the demon. Its roar turned to a scream, but he continued his charge towards the man before him, wrapping Bishop in his fiery embrace before collapsing to the ground. The fire burned hot and fast, crisping the demon to the point where it could no longer regenerate. From her cover, Ana ground her teeth as she watched her troops being slaughtered under this fusillade and vowed that Delancre would hear of the Ghosts’ dishonourable behaviour.
She watched the vivid green demon run up the hill towards the remaining five snipers, and she silently cursed it for breaking ranks. There were plenty of closer targets, and its strength was in close combat. Sure enough, it had barely reached halfway before bullets ripped into its body, but somehow it continued on doggedly. As it reached the closest sniper the man stood, ready to defend himself, but the blood from the demon sprayed over him and the man bellowed in pain. The blood on his face began to sizzle and burn, eating through his flesh and the soldier clawed at his eyes. The demon didn’t get two more steps towards the next sniper’s position, however, as four guns trained on him exclusively. The grass and even the ground smoked and burned as his blood pooled.
With only her basilisk demon left, Ana gritted her teeth and moved onto the path while the snipers were busy with their own problems on the hill. She sought out James’ hiding spot, ready to finish the vampire off. But a single shot rang out and caught Ana in the hand, forcing her to drop the sword. Staring at it on the ground in dismay, she looked up to see Rook smiling at her with his gun smoking.
Diving for the claymore, Ana found herself face to face with James – holding the sword. She stared into his triumphant eyes and spat at the ground. She wanted to stay, wanted to fight on, wanted to destroy them all. But she had her orders.
“All right,” she said bitterly. “It’s yours.” Her voice grew more arrogant as she continued, “I’ll be sure to tell Lord Delancre what happened here, and we’ll see if your attempts to cheat earn you the reward you deserve.”
James smirked at the Slayer and spoke. “Will you now? Why don’t you just go do that and when you do make sure to tell him that his army of his isn’t anything special. They really should learn that there are no rules in war.”
James walked toward the basilisk demon with a mission; as he walked along he picked up a fallen pair of glasses and placed them gently on his face. The demon turned its baleful gaze on him, but James walked on unperturbed.
As he closed in on the demon he raised the claymore and grained at the slayer. “Ambrose never figured out what was so magical about this, did he?”
The runes on the blade of the sword glowed brightly as it neared the demon. Unafraid of physical attack, the demon stood still as James rushed at it and swung at its head, taking it clean off its shoulders. The body of the demon fell limply to the ground with a massive thud.
Monk walked slowly over to Bishop and the charred body of the demon. As he neared it, the body began to twitch and move. Monk pulled his gun and aimed, waiting for the body to duplicate, but instead the body of the demon got flung onto its side. A very singed Bishop pulled off his fire resistant helmet and dropped his pack, accepting Monk’s hand to help him upright.
Cate walked over to Tash and offered her a hand up, but Tash merely shrugged it off and walked away. Now that the basilisk demon was dead, she ripped off her sunglasses and threw them to the ground as Cate said, “Ana, Tash, I wouldn’t advise moving. My men are still under orders to shoot to kill, but please do tell us where the axe is and we will allow you to leave with your lives.”
Ana’s laughter tinkled out. “Oh, don’t be so foolish as to think I brought it with me. When I report back to Lord Delancre, he will send you the axe. He has promised this. If I don’t report back… well, let’s just say it was nice knowing you.”
Tash glared at James. “Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said as he tried to advance on Ana. Her crossbow was instantly in her hands, aimed at his chest. “The Slayer and I are leaving now, unless you’d like to be a little pile of dust,” she grinned.
“And of course,” Ana picked up the thread, “Lord Delancre couldn’t assume you would follow the rules of engagement.”
She let out a high-pitched whistle, and some three dozen of Delancre’s demon hybrid troops appeared over the rise behind the two women. Ana smiled at the looks that spread over Cate and Monk’s faces, though James’ irreverent grin never faltered.
“Come, Natasha, it’s time we left,” Ana ordered imperiously as she turned on her heel, not bothering to see if Tash followed or not.
Tash glared at James, pure hatred in her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to take those troops and charge, killing everyone left alive. But she knew they obeyed Ana, not her. And Ana had her orders, it seemed. Grumbling under her breath, Tash lowered her crossbow and spat at James’ feet.
“Another day, vampire,” she said as she turned and stalked after the Slayer.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, 14th March 2007 – 10:05pm
“All right,” Tash said to Ana once they’d left the boundaries of Runyon Canyon and were safely ensconced in Ana’s chauffeur-driven car, “Do you mind telling me what the hell that was all about?”
Ana cast a baleful eye over Tash and pursed her lips, shrugging her shoulders and saying nothing.
“Dammit, Ana, you may be the Slayer and Delancre’s pet,” Tash growled, “but you can’t pretend to me there was nothing more going on there than a simple fight. It was obviously an arranged meeting, so tell me – what was all that shit about the sword?”
Ana sighed heavily and spoke as though explaining matters to a rather dim-witted child. “If the Lord Delancre wanted you to know, he would have told you. It’s not my place to second-guess his orders.”
Fuming, her blood still hot from the fight, Tash nevertheless held her temper in check. When she spoke, her voice was icy. “Very well, then. If you’re too much of a lap-dog to think for yourself, I’ll just have to ask your master.”
The rest of the ride to Delancre’s mansion was spent in a frosty silence.
As soon as the car pulled to a smooth stop before the ornate doors of the house, Ana strode up the stairs, her chin held high. Tash hurried after her, determined to demand answers from Delancre, but Ana stopped in the hallway to his private study and blocked Tash’s path.
“I must report to Sir Ambrose,” she said haughtily. “If you desire an audience with him, you may request so afterwards.”
Tash leant forward, her hands clenching into fists. “Ana, you’re the Slayer and yes, Delancre has invested a lot of time into you, and the Watchers’ Council is a large organisation with a lot of resources of its own. But you personally don’t control millions of dollars worth of assets. I do. Just remember that – Delancre may find me and my resources less expendable than a mere fighting machine.”
Ana drew in an angry breath, ready to retort, but Tash cut her off, making her case with a digit pointed at Ana’s chest. “No, I don’t have to listen to you, Ana. I am not here to do your bidding. Delancre and I are forming a partnership, and you are merely my liaison. You don’t get to order me around, missy. I’m as much here to test your capacity to work well in LA as you are to test my capacity to work well with your troops. Oh, don’t act surprised – do you think I wouldn’t realise I was being tested tonight? You go tell your master everything that happened, and when you’re done I will see him myself.”
Tash folded her arms, while Ana merely huffed angrily. Saying nothing, the Slayer turned and stalked to Delancre’s door, speaking curtly with the servitor who stood guard outside and casting an evil glare over her shoulder at Tash as she was admitted to her master’s presence.
In the hallway, Tash leant against a wall and kept an eye on the door guard, a small smile playing about her lips.
In his study, Delancre looked up from his glass of fine port and noted the scowl on his protégé’s face. “Ana, dear, what has you so upset? Did you lose the sword?”
Ana bowed. “My Lord, yes, I did lose the sword, but only due to treachery on the part of our opposition. But that is not what has me so upset. It is that, that woman out there. She’s insufferable!”
“Of course she is, my precious,” Delancre smiled good-naturedly, “Do you imagine Miss Brookes could rise to the position she has if she weren’t ruthless? Let me guess – you tried to boss her around the way you do our troops and she bit back?” Delancre laughed softly at the look on Ana’s face. “Don’t take on so. She will be difficult to deal with. Just make sure she doesn’t learn anything we don’t wish her to.”
Ana executed another bow, “Sir Ambrose, I told her nothing. But if she continues to bait me I may one day lose my temper and strike her.”
Delancre rose and patted Ana’s shoulder. “A perfectly understandable urge,” he conceded. “As the Slayer, however, you are above such petty concerns. You must be able to maintain a clear head at all times. Though if the two of you do come to blows, try not to kill her – well, not just yet anyway. As the virus makes its way through the members of her organisation she’ll find herself relying more and more heavily upon us. Once there is no longer any real opposition to us, we can achieve our goal here. Patience, my dear. Once we’re done here I no longer care about her fate.”
Mollified, Ana nodded respectfully and launched into her report. “So you see,” she finished, having described the encounter in full detail, “the Ghosts acted dishonourably to achieve their ends. I leave it to you to determine whether or not they should receive the second half of their reward.”
Her tone made it quite clear that she didn’t think they should be given the axe, and Delancre scowled. “Don’t presume to know my mind, child. They were given parameters, but knowing how Cate works I never expected them to adhere to those specifications. No, I told her no holds barred and they performed admirably. Better than you did,” he admonished, reminding Ana of her failure.
Blushing, the girl dropped her head. “I am sorry, Lord Delancre. I tried my best. I will do better next time.”
“I have no doubt of it, Ana. You are, after all, designed to be the perfect fighting machine.”
Delancre’s unconscious echo of Tash’s words made Ana blanch, but she hid her discomfort from her master, outwardly accepting the praise for what it was. “Thank you, my Lord. But… there is one other thing. Natasha is demanding to know about the sword and the arrangement with the Ghosts.”
“Well, naturally she is. If you had seen what she doubtless saw tonight, I’m sure you would be demanding answers as well. Fear not, Ana, I have it all under control. She will learn only enough to think she’s getting the whole truth, or close to. She’s outside?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Then would you be so kind as to ask her to come in when you leave? Thank you, Ana.”
Ana bowed solemnly and left the room, her face an expressionless mask. She closed the door behind her as she entered the hallway and said coldly to Tash, “You may go in to see Lord Delancre now.”
The corners of Tash’s mouth curled upward in a tight, condescending smile as she passed Ana on her way into Delancre’s study. Once inside, she closed the door and faced the leader of the Watchers’ Council.
“Well, that was an interesting expedition, I’ll grant you that,” she remarked as she walked towards the desk Delancre had settled himself behind. “But it did raise one or two questions that I’d like cleared up.”
“Certainly,” Ambrose smiled warmly, “I daresay some of the terms of the encounter were not quite what you expected, hmm?”
“To say the least,” Tash replied evenly.
A chuckle met her statement, and Delancre offered her a seat. “Please, I’m sorry for the subterfuge, but I wished to see your reaction – and to see what you managed to glean for yourself. Tell me, what do you think happened out there?”
Tash took the proffered chair, sighing in resignation. Of course, Delancre didn’t want to commit to an alliance until he’d tested his potential ally’s prowess in all aspects. All right then, she’d continue to play his game. At least this way she was beginning to gather the sense of how Delancre operated things around here. She was wiling to go along with him for a long way in order to learn exactly what it was he was keeping hidden from her. Sooner or later she’d discover what he was really up to here, she just had to bide her time.
“Ok, from what I saw there was obviously no ‘information’ that James would be there – the whole meeting was arranged in advance. That means you have a connection with the Ghosts. I know they used to be with the Council but broke away some three years ago, and that it was through your efforts that they rejoined – I’ve done some prior homework, you see. I’ve met these guys before, as I’m sure you well know.”
Delancre nodded for her to continue and Tash went on, “Now it seems to me that they wouldn’t have rejoined without some sort of incentive. That sword was obviously part of it, especially since its magic actually worked for James whereas it didn’t for Ana. And she and Cate talked about an axe as well, so that’s two magical weapons that are part of this deal.”
Keeping his face impassive, Delancre watched with fascination as Tash went through her thought processes. So far she was almost spot on, although of course she had no way to know of the Ghosts’ involvement with bringing Ana to the status of the Chosen One. And Delancre had listened keenly when Ana had described the sword’s effect after James began wielding it. His mages had detected years ago that the sword’s magic was linked to a specific dna string, so only members of the MacPherson family could invoke the runes they’d discovered hidden deep inside the blade. It was interesting that Natasha had picked up on the variable nature of the sword’s magic.
“Go on,” he pressed.
“So I’m thinking that the Ghosts really work mainly for you, and you’ve been hanging onto these weapons of theirs all this time. So why, after three years, are they suddenly willing to risk twenty of their members to get them back?” Tash leaned forward in her seat. “This whole Dukal business must be getting closer, otherwise they’d have been content to wait for more favourable circumstances. What I’d really like to know is why you were willing to sacrifice some of your soldiers, endanger the Slayer, and risk pissing off a group that has been working on your behalf?”
Smiling indulgently, Delancre clapped his hands quietly. “Well done, I’m impressed. As to my reasons, well, let’s just say that any reward has to be earned. It’s true that on one or two occasions I’ve asked the Ghosts to look into business that wasn’t strictly within their purview as part of the Council. I’m sure you understand that in the world we live in not everything is in shades of black and white. The previous Council elders would have you believe that, but you and I operate in the real world. Alliances of convenience must sometimes be made, however distasteful.”
He paused and picked absently at a bit of lint on his sleeve. “The Ghosts wanted to pursue their own goals. The Council at that time wanted to ensure they would not turn renegade. I offered a compromise to the Ghosts, allowing them to act more or less independently while satisfying the Council that they maintained their loyalty. Tonight’s exercise was to remind them that in name at least, the Watchers’ Council still holds the strings, while repaying them for their loyalty in the past. They will recover from their loss of personnel. All I did was to weed out the weak.” He grinned broadly, “I’m glad to see you made it back in one piece. Along with theirs, it also proves your worth.”
Delancre’s explanation seemed reasonable enough, and Tash was satisfied. If nothing else, she continued to learn more about the details of his operation here. Reading between the lines she got the distinct impression Delancre had used the Ghosts for tasks he didn’t want traced back to him. Thinking of the demon hybrids she’d seen fighting today, Tash could understand that producing such a force would entail one or two marginally unsavoury deals. It seemed a small price to pay for an army as diverse and powerful as the Council now had in the fight against evil.
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you,” she replied, only a slight amount of sarcasm showing through her voice. “But one other thing, before I go. I’m interested to know just what the makeup of your forces is. What their abilities and special enhancements are. If I’m going to be fighting with these guys, it’d help if I knew in advance what they can do.”
“Certainly,” Delancre agreed. “It’s getting late now. Why don’t you meet me here tomorrow morning and I’ll go over them with you.”
“All right, tomorrow.”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday the 13th, March, 2007
“Reah, I…”
“Shh…” she hushed, her finger lightly caressing over his lips. “Silence is golden.”
“But-”
“No.”
“… I’m sorry.”
Reah turned her regretful gaze to the floor, feeling the impact and sincerity of his gentle tone. It sounded so strange coming from the man, but she could feel the truth in it. It angered her more than the fear that riddled his shaking hands.
How could such a thing just happen? How could he live with himself and do what he did like it was okay? How could he use her so?
“I care-”
“Shut up,” Reah hissed, sharply cutting him off. He only cared about himself.
“Bu-”
“I SAID SHUT UP!”
Blades flashed in a scream, and soon the only thing to come out of Damen’s mouth was the rich, crimson liquid welling up from within. A firm jerk of her blades imbedded in his gut coughed up a nice splattering of the blood on her stone cold face, marring her smooth features and blazing red eyes as she watched the liquid spill over his quivering lips.
…
No satisfaction.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
14 March 2007
Club Asylum
11:17pm
While Club Asylum was not a place known for deals of the shady variety to be made there, Jimmy the Hand liked the way the place was set up. The bar, the dancing and the crowd all served to let a small group of people disappear off into a booth. So long as you acted the right way, you never drew any suspicion.
Its reputation was an advantage and disadvantage; if you wanted to be sure of privacy, Jimmy called you to Asylum. But it also meant that odds were whoever else they might need to talk to wouldn’t be there. So he called people there only for things that were important or a Sure Thing.
Nikolai Makarov arrived right on time. The atmosphere of the place was most emphatically not your normal place for a meeting with an underground figure. It felt more like the place you went either for a fun date or to hook up with a woman during the evening. When he reached the table in the corner, Jimmy was already there with drinks with another guy, both more dressed in street clothes than anything else.
“Andropov, my man, have a seat,” Jimmy gestured across from him. “Tell him what you just told me, Tony.”
The man addressed as Tony was large and heavyset, though he had an easygoing air about him which betrayed the fact that he was a dangerous man. “It’s beautiful, you’re going to love it,” he started when Nikolai sat across from him. “You’ve heard of Jordan Miller?”
“Nope.”
“Small time dope dealer and money launderer,” Jimmy explained, “Used to work out of Narcosis with Fugue, back before the Brotherhood decided to start a war. Thing is, they say he was the guy who made all of Fugue’s money clean.”
Nikolai nodded at that. He still hoped half the stories told about the Brotherhood was the poetic overstatement that vampires and demons were so fond of. “But what does that have to do with us?”
Tony glanced around quickly, to make sure that nobody else was around. When he was convinced that nobody was seriously heading in their direction, he continued, “Word is that Jordan has a lot of ‘cleaned’ dough coming out of hiding and arriving here. All cash, all untraceable.”
It did not take Nikolai long to work out exactly what they were offering him, a piece of the action. And it was also quite clear that the action would involve theft. Which made him wonder… “Why come to me?”
Now it was Jimmy’s turn to smile. “Because you’ve been out of the business for a while, and this will help you get back into gear.” It was more than that. Svetlana had been ecstatic when Jimmy returned with word of the first deal, and then she said that word from Dmitri himself came to see what he had. If ‘Andropov’ was serious, getting his talent shown to be at the point where they could ‘make’ him should be easy enough.
And then gave Jimmy the task of seeing if he was up to being made.
Nikolai thought that it made perfect sense, especially if he wanted a bigger role in the family than just the old contracts he used to do. They would want to see what he was capable of, if the city life had dampened his senses. But he had to be honest: he missed the life these past two years. The thrill, the excitement. Killing Lavrenti Sabarov had brought him back.
L’Than could never understand. Nobody who was on the outside looking in could really understand, he thought. You got out of line, you got whacked. That was the only way that people stayed in line.
“I’ll do it for a third.”
Before they answered, he could tell that they would agree from the underlying feeling of happiness and hope. They wanted him to succeed. *Of course, they want the money and another ally on the streets always helps.*
Tony was especially giddy, he had all of the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “Wonderful,” he said. “The word is that it’s coming in tomorrow night, he’s got a carrier bringing in the cash by car.”
“All right,” Nikolai said, glancing around. “What’s the plan?”
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday the 13th, March, 2007
20:49
Reah woke with a start, staring wildly about the strange, darkened space. The immense cold suddenly slammed in on her like a ten tonne Mack Truck in the blink of an eye as the harsh, icy concrete ground had seeped through, chilling her bones to cracking point as a sharp sting ran down her spine.
The Armoury’s basement.
How long had she been down here? What time was it?
“Time to be gone,” she muttered angrily to herself, gazing spitefully at a broken overhanging pipeline.
Nearly slipping on the thin layer of ice that covered the ground, she had to wonder what had lowered the confined area’s temperature so. Whatever it was it had also managed to freeze the pipeline, which was probably why the damn thing wasn’t still spewing water out on her face. *Fucking plumbing.*
When she finally pieced together what it was, Reah snarled into the dim light and stalked over to the secure, bank vault exit.
21:25
She was still underground in the intricate sewer tunnels that spanned beneath all of L.A. She’d been stalking them for a while in search of… something!
Suddenly slowing to a stop in her stride, Reah glanced across to her left and then to her right.
“Ur’k"AŸ ‘s KLæ?”
“T’K!"
Raising a speculative eyebrow in discernment she merely shrugged, blades shooting out, hungry for carnage. “Whatever!”
The mob of four closed in. Reah could only describe them as seven foot tall, festering, snot-skinned, saber-toothed, face-retardant demons. But when she finally thought she had the whole dance predetermined, foot-long spikes suddenly shot out of what could only be described as their turd-like heads.
*Well... This could be fun,* she thought unenthusiastically before leaping into the slaughter...
21:48
The white knuckled grip firmly clutched four smooth shafted spikes, torn from the craniums of their previous possessors as she approached an appealing manhole.
Gazing upward at her exit, Reah then dropped her gaze back down to the spikes and squatted down on one knee to the cold, dank ground to strap them securely about her calf before levering herself purposefully up the ladder.
The streets were dark, as usual, matching her intent for whatever she could find. It had been a long time since she remembered feeling just like this, hunting relentlessly until she caught her prey. It was all so malicious and detached from life, which was exactly what she’d tried to rehabilitate herself from becoming completely. But when fate kept throwing these fucked up curves into her life, she couldn’t help but wonder why she even bothered!
In a moment she was lurching into a swift chase, carelessly shoving an innocent bystander away into a door as she caught sight of some action ahead.
*Fucking vampires!*
22:23
‘SMACK’
‘BANG’
‘SNAP’
Reah quickly snatched back the clean punch to the vampire’s chest and roundhoused him clear across the temple with a sharp ‘crack’, spraying a thin line of blood from his mouth as he fell. Skull bouncing off a headstone, he crumbled to the cemetery ground.
Reah’s hips and body twisted through her kick, resuming defence and blocking the hooked blow of his girlfriend before lunging a low punch to its upper torso and snap kicking through with her back foot, crushing its ribcage as she sent the vampiress flying into a crypt wall.
The demoness crumpled to the ground face down as Reah confidently stalked up to finish the job.
However, disappointment dulled her adrenaline and she frowned in confusion as the vampiress burst to dust unexpectadly before her eyes.
Stopping in her tracks, Reah huffed in annoyance when she spotted the small, once living, now broken stem of an old rose bush jutting firmly out of the ground.
*Lucky break.*
Moving on from her recent misfortune, Reah turned her attentions back to the remaining vampire of the two who was currently recovering from his fall. Stooping in a step towards him, she retrieved one of the spikes she’d claimed earlier.
“Your girlfriend’s a rude bitch,” Reah casually addressed him, twiddling the thin spine in her fingers as she approached. “I was wanting to see if this worked at well as a wooden stake-”
“AAHHH!”
Reah frowned again, nonchalantly flicking the spike’s end that protruded from his chest. “Apparently not,” she sighed, then smiled down at the suffering vampire. “But it does hurt, at least, right?” Ripping it out she quickly stabbed it hard into his side. “I am right, aren’t I? Cos if we’re not sure, I’ve got three others we can test.”
He tried to get up, but Reah slammed his shoulder back down into a corner of the headstone’s base. “YES! IT FUCKING HURTS!”
“Hm… Really? See, I’m not so sure about that. I think I’m going to try them out anyway.”
“No, AAHHHHH!” The demon glared back at Reah through a feverish sheen of sweat, recoiling with unease at the look on her face. “You’re fucking crazyaAAHHH!”
“Nope!” Reah corrected him, dangling the fourth and final spine just short of his eye. “Just a pissed off woman.” She smiled back at him and winked. “Pray I don’t go getting pms anytime soon.”
“Jesus fucking christ. Fucking women-”
“-IS GROUND that should be carefully tread,” Reah’s glare hardened on the vampire, sharply cutting him off, gouging her thumb deep in his shoulder.
She soon recovered her unsettling smile, however, and resumed her ‘calming lecture’ tone. “Now, when my daddy was teaching me how to fight, he also taught me how to knife people! Obviously not for reasons of ever using it against another person, but for reasons of defence in case for some strange reason someone felt the sudden urge to knife me!”
She sniffed down at him. “You can’t just stab it straight in and out, like this…” The vampire grimaced, teeth clenched as she cleanly skewered him to demonstrate, retrieving it again with the utmost care. “Oh no. If you really want to damage the other party, you have to - and I’ll do this slowly so you can really absorb everything - come in at an angle…”
“Rrrgg…”
“Sort of scoop in an upward motion so you’ve really got a good, secure grip. And then! You can do just about whatever the fuck you want to their insides!”
“AAAARRRRRGGGG!”
Laughing softly, Reah shifted her grip on the spine and gave it a firm ‘jerk’ to snap back his attention to her eyes as she leaned in closer. “You immortals are a funny bunch. What do you think of your immortality? You likin’ it?” She twisted the spike on her emphasis. “Death by only a wooden stake through the heart or severed spinal cord, aka, decapitation.”
She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully to vampire. “You really don’t need any of these insides, then, do you? If I made scrambled eggs of your insides and them ripped them out, much like the Egyptians and mummification with their whole brain out the nose trick, would you still live if I left your heart and spine alone? That question always had me baffled. Do you think you could help me at all?”
The vampire dropped his head back in hopelessness, gently rocking from side to side with his eyes clenched shut in what Reah could only assume was a silent mercy plea.
Alternating her grip once more, Reah suddenly sighed, her hold loosening as her shoulders slacked and she smiled sympathetically at the creature before her. She gave him an encouraging pat on the chest. “Mercy only works if you ask me nicely,” she sighed, then paused once more in readying herself. “Oh! And I apologise in advance. These spikes really don’t appear to have any form of hook on the end like it should! So we’ll just have to be patient while I scoop it out bit by bit…”
"AAHHRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG..."
Wednesday the 14th, March, 2007
00:09
She could see the light ahead, approaching. Fast. Brighter and brighter it grew till she was straining to see anything else but the glaring light that pierced her retina. Still, she refrained from raising her arms and kept her hands by her side. She wasn’t afraid. She’d been anticipating and waiting for this a long time now. Finally she could have at least one clean break from her otherwise poor excuse for a life.
Not long now.
‘BEEP-BEEP BEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!’
‘BOOM-SMACK! SCREEEEE’
…
‘THUMP’
00:11
“Holy shit! What da… oh fuck! Jesus Christ!”
The man known as Joseph sprang out of the hastily parked car, quick to scan his hands over the bonnet. *No damage? Wait… is that a…?* He frowned, leaning in and picking at the clean scratch and subtle dent. *A scratch? But what da…? I swear…*
He bent down to check the axles, flicking his pocket light on. “Fuck…” *Wait… are they suppose’da look like dat?* He hadn’t a clue. Cars he knew… just not so much the mechanical aspects.
Swinging the dim light around he stepped in closer to the road’s edge, scanning over the brush spanning down the steep descent. Side stepping a bit back further down the road he eventually came to a stop, squinting at a rough trail of recently damaged shrubbery, but when his light reached where the trail seemed to stop, there was nothing.
Frowning, he looked harder.
“Enjoying the view?”
Joseph spun about, nearly slipping backwards over the edge at the woman’s voice. She’d come out of nowhere! Spotting a small leaf in her hair, though, he frowned and shot a quick, uneasy glance back into the crushed shrubs, making the connection. *Fucked if this bitch is gonna screw me over.* He raised his fist high, ready to backhand her hard in the temple when he was suddenly stopped short of execution with a shattering pain down his forearm as her own shot up, deflecting the blow.
“Now, now. Don’t be rash,” Reah smiled back at him, “You think an old fashioned backhand is going to lay me flat after I’ve just gotten up from being hit by your stolen vehicle?”
“Wha?” He stared disbelieving at the woman before him, rubbing his bruising forearm. “How da…?”
“Lets not bore each other with details, now,” she waved him off. “Just give me the keys.”
“Fuck off!”
“Or what? You’ll kick my ass!” Reah doubtingly mocked. “Be my guest! It’ll be funny.”
“Yo, I’m not gonna let some bush beatin’ bitch tell me what ta do!”
“Move now, I’m losing my patience.”
“Or what?”
A single blade shot up from her proffered fist. “I’ll be forced to use this, and I don’t want to scratch the car.” A wicked grin split her face at his change of expression. “And let’s not forget: assault is hard to report if the assaulted becomes the dead.”
The man know as Joseph gulped and foolishly held his ground...
00:21
Reah tore down the empty road in her newly acquired 2007 Skyline GT-R.
She had to hand it to that Joseph! She wouldn’t have given up the car so easily either, but she felt the pure fluke that he’d managed to acquire it himself in the first place just didn’t make him a worthy enough possessor of such a fine vehicle.
Rich people really did need to learn that despite all advances in technology, the mere stupidity of leaving keys in the ignition of your unlocked vehicle can not be helped and more than likely WILL get it stolen. Then there was the plain unluck of having it stolen by Reah who just happened to have the added, inbuilt bonus of being able to access a vehicle’s former registration.
She supposed, in a way, she liked old fashioned technology!
It didn't take long, however, before her malcontent returned.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday, March 14th 2007
11:15 pm
“Now I want to hear you sing.”
The tall boy towered over the trembling creature on the ground. He turned to his companion when the demon didn’t make a sound. “Saw that, Sid? It doesn’t wanna play.”
“Spoilsport,” answered Sid, shaking his head as in bewilderment, “And we’ve just got to the party.”
“Yeah…” the first boy agreed, turning to the creature again. He pouted, “These things never want to play.” He crouched next to the shaky demon and gently took one of its hand-like appendages.
Its almost translucent skin showed the pumping of iridescent blood through it, running fast with fear. Her big phosphorescent eyes squinted in the too bright light of the street, and her twin mouths gaped soundlessly. She was a creature of the dark, and she lived in the lowest level of the sewers, never venturing out of them. But she had been looking for her mate; he had disappeared a couple of days ago, so she had dared to get too close to the surface and then she had got tangled in the net… and the humans had fished her out.
She tried to retrieve her hand but the boy clasped it brutally, making her emit a high-pitched cry. The shining blood accumulated around the boy’s firm clasp, hurting her, but he didn’t mind. A cruel smile shone on his face and he turned to Sid again.
“She can sing, all right. A fucking Britney Spears, she is.”
His companion’s laughter emboldened him, and he clasped the demon’s other hand. The creature tried to escape the pressure, but her fragile body couldn’t make it against the human’s superior strength. Her other mouth opened and a new squeal, deeper in pitch, could be heard, echoing the first.
Sid laughed, “More likely Josie with her Pussycats, man.”
The other boy turned to look at Sid, for a moment forgetting his victim. “Who?”
“You know. Josie. And the Pussycats.” Frustrated at the look of utter confusion on his friend’s face, he explained. “The cartoon, Ron. The fucking cartoon.”
Ron shook his head. “You shouldn’t watch so much TV with your little sister, dude.”
*Kids. They are just kids.* Ellis sneered with contempt. Rich kids too, by the looks of them, looking for some fun; but instead of getting drunk or enjoying some bit of ass, they preferred to terrorize the local demon population.
He had been informed of several small Toker demons’ corpses having being found around this location, beaten to death viciously. Ellis had decided to take a look; he needed some distraction after last night and he was tired of office work. The DP had been patrolling around the place, but till now with no luck. In fact, if it weren’t for the yelling, Ellis would have missed them too. The boys had found a rather good spot to do their sport, a back alley almost hidden by a sloping wall.
*They have it well planned too,* he thought detachedly, taking notice of the strong yet almost flimsy net that enveloped the demoness, with which she had been obviously fished out of the sewers. There was a stun baton too, in one of the boys’ hands, and the other wielded a baseball bat. *Pretty thorough. To deal with Tokers, at least.*
“And you shouldn’t be tormenting defenseless demons,” he spoke, his voice traveling easily over the weakening wail of the creature.
The teens twirled around, surprised, and the little demon took advantage of their distraction to move away from them. Ellis walked casually towards them, his eyes not leaving the stun baton and the baseball bat. He was furious; this was the kind of things that made him see red.
"What's the problem, man?" asked Sid, nervously studying the approaching man. “It’s just a demon. It isn't a crime to banish a demon, a monster.” He exchanged a glance with his ‘partner in crime’.
"It is, by my standards," answered Ellis, the cold rage getting through his icy tone. “By my standards, you are the monsters, tormenting somebody who can't defend herself, and for whose death you won't be punished.”
Ron stood up, his attitude less conciliatory than his friend’s. “They’ve no place in our world. They’re just vermin,” he said, and gave the cowering Toker a vicious kick that made her yell in pain.
Ellis didn’t wait any longer. A white fury seized him and he jumped forward over the two teens. The boys weren’t prepared for his sudden attack. They were used to victims that didn’t fight back.
Sid backed away on instinct and dropped the stun baton as a boot appeared out of nowhere and a hard kick connected with the side of his head, sending him toppling roughly to the ground. Before he could move, Ellis kicked Sid hard in the stomach and then even harder on the side of the head, cutting open his forehead and sending him to unconsciousness.
Hearing someone behind him, he turned around in time to catch Ron’s wrist in mid-air, baseball bat at the ready.
“Now that is just plain rude. Easy way to get yourself killed.” Ellis squeezed down hard on the wrist until Ron dropped his weapon and then backhanded him brutally, sending the teen across the alley and against the wall.
“Well, coming to a party uninvited, that’s not too polite either,” Ron spat as he looked around for his bat, but it was just too far away. Ron ran at his attacker, tackling him around the stomach and pushing him into the nearby wall. Ellis practically shrugged him off. He brought his hands down hard on the boy’s back, knocking the wind out of him, then lifted him by the hair to strike him hard across the jaw. Ron fell to the ground, gasping and struggling to regain his feet. Ellis growled and moved towards him again when a figure leapt onto his back.
“Ellis, man, what are you doing!!”
A familiar voice sounded behind him and a strong arm took hold of his before he could strike again. Ellis recovered from his surprise immediately and spun out of the man’s grip, grabbed a knife from the scabbard on his belt and then pushed him to the wall, crushing his windpipe with his forearm, the knife pressing in his midriff.
The man just froze, looking intently at Ellis, and then relaxed.
“It’s me, Mike,” he said, his voice hoarse with lack of air but steady all the same.
Ellis couldn’t recognize him at first, but after a moment the realization that he was about to kill his friend and partner got across the rage that blinded him. His eyes showed confusion for a moment and then he jumped back, as if burned.
“Mike! What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, noticing that the man had had his gun ready and aimed at his own abdomen all the time.
“I followed you,” Mike Coulter answered, uncocking the gun and putting it in its sheath under his arm again. “Fucking good thing I did.”
He was already approaching the little demoness that was trying to make herself invisible, but not very successfully; the iridescence of her blood had brightened with her fear. She tried to avoid Mike, but he soothed her and cut the strings of the net that bound her. Once free, the demoness lost no time to slip into the sewers; she wouldn’t dare the upper levels again.
Ellis just looked around, checking the damage he had done. The two teens lay unconscious on the ground; one of them was bleeding from a gash on his head and the other breathed just too quickly, as if he had some broken ribs.
Sudden guilt replaced his rage. He wasn’t thinking clearly yet, but awareness of what he had done was creeping into his mind. If Mike hadn’t shown up, he’d have killed those two. He brushed his hair back and rubbed his eyes, then he crouched next to the closer teen. Fortunately, it seemed that he wasn’t seriously hurt; neither was the other one, although he did have several broken ribs.
They would have to take them to the hospital. Hopefully this beating would be incentive enough for them not to continue in their path against demons; the DP would approach them again, however, just to make sure of it.
Mike worked beside him, not talking, his movements as efficient and sure as always. He seemed unaffected by what had happened, but Ellis knew that some explanation would be required. For once, he was glad of his friend’s laconic nature; he needed to calm down before talking about what had happened.
Introducing Danny Glover as Mike Coulter.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Tuesday 13th March - 11:28pm
The vampire dived at him, throwing all his weight into the lunge and swiping with a long knife. Kyle ducked under the swing and let the vampire - who had a nasty scar trailing across the left side of his face, over his nose, and down towards the right corner of his lip - fall onto his shoulder. Then, using the vampire’s own momentum against him, Kyle heaved and flipped him up and over onto the table behind them.
Buckling under the weight the table held, but half a dozen glasses smashed and fell to the floor. Not giving scar-face a second to react, Kyle slammed a stake in his chest.
Dusting himself off, Kyle leaned back and rubbed the rapidly-developing bruise on his right lower jaw. That had been a good one, he reflected. The bruise had been caused by a vamp left-hook which Kyle hadn’t experienced in a while, and it had gone steadily better from there on. Yeah, a good fight. Tonight was shaping up to be a good night.
Excitement over, the other bar patrons turned back to their drinks. This, then, wasn’t an unusual event, and as long as Kyle kept clear of them they’d probably leave him alone. He’d seen it like that before. It’d be no different here.
His drink had gone after the first few punches, used as a missile, so he took out a cig. But before he could light it himself, a lighter was at the end of the cigarette. Kyle took a drag, then followed the arm that was holding the lighter across to the body owning it.
It was a tall man who was dressed, oddly and out of place, in a suit. His hair was cut short, and a suitcase hung on the end of his arm. Kyle noted a pair of handcuffs connected it to his wrist.
With the cigarette lit, Kyle stood back from the man. “What?” he asked bluntly.
“I believe you can help me,” the man replied, taking the bluntness without missing a beat. His accent was British, refined. But Kyle could detect a crude undertone to him. He slipped the lighter into his pocket and held the suitcase in front of him, then nodded towards the back of the bar. “I have some business I would like to discuss with you. Shall we move to somewhere a little less open?”
Kyle shook his head and moved to push past him. “Not interested.”
The Brit blocked his way. “Oh, really? That is a shame. As I believe you are perfectly suited to this business. Your prior performance just demonstrated how suitable my employer judges you, especially considering your particular traits and preferences…”
That caused Kyle to pause. He turned to look at him, cocking his head. If this guy was hinting at what Kyle thought he was hinting at…
“It’ll be worth your while,” he went on, and Kyle was hooked.
“Ok, sure. Talk.”
The Brit refused to say anything until they stepped into a rear room behind the bar. He sat down at a poker table, stained and covered in cigarette burns, and placed the suitcase on the table before him. Kyle remained standing.
“My name is Mr. Moore. I come at the behest of my employer, who we will refer to as ‘Stevenson’.”
“You don’t happen to have a license to kill, do you?” Kyle asked out of hand.
Moore ignored him and went on. “A recent opportunity has come to Stevenson. He is just beginning operations here in LA, and is recruiting personnel. He considers you would be a possibility, but before we can proceed he would like a… test of your abilities.”
Kyle didn’t like the sound of this. “A test. What kind of test?”
“One that you will, I am sure, excel at.” Moore entered a combination on the suitcase, and then flicked it open. Taking out several black-and-white glossy pictures, he tossed them onto the surface of the table. Kyle bent over and studied them; groups of human gangers. Each one had a dripping axe on the back of his jacket and was adorned with tattoos, chains, scars - all the usual decorations of hard-core gangs.
“Y’know, they can makes them in colour, these days.”
Refusing to be baited still, Moore went on. “They refer to themselves as the ‘Blood Axes’, hence the symbol on their back.”
“And you want me to take them out, right?”
“As many of them as possible, yes.”
“Why?”
Moore smiled. “As I said, a test of your abilities. Of any ulterior motives, Stevenson does not want you to know.”
Kyle shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t really deal in assassinations.”
“No, not really. This gang is, shall we say, daylight challenged.” Moore threw some more pictures down. These showed the gangers’ true faces.
“Vampires,” Kyle provided.
“To be blunt, yes, vampires.”
Kyle shrugged. “I’m a blunt person. Not so much in for this subtle crap.” He hoped the hint wasn’t lost on this Mr. Moore.
“Indeed. So I have come to understand.”
“Okay…” Kyle asked, not letting his thoughts dwell on how well Mr. Moore knew him. “How many in the gang?”
“Usually, twenty to twenty five.” Moore held his hand up to stop Kyle’s unspoken complaint. “But do not worry. The Blood Axes have recently become involved in a brutal gang war, and one of which they are on the verge of winning. Nonetheless, this has seriously depleted their numbers. We have a plan to schedule a vicious battle for tomorrow night. You, posing as a member of this rival gang, will attack one or two members of the Blood Axes whilst they are out hunting, then retreat to the gang’s base of operation. Once aware of this location, the Blood Axes will launch an assault. This will involve the majority of the forces, allowing you to then strike at their own headquarters. You will face perhaps no more than ten.”
Kyle gave Moore a look. “Ten.”
“Yes, ten.”
“And this is only to test my abilities? You’re not… killing two birds with one stone here?” *Or just the one bird: me.*
Moore licked his lips. “I’m not at liberty to say. There may indeed be an ulterior motive as I have mentioned, and also like I have mentioned you do not need to know it. You will just have to trust me.”
“I see,” Kyle replied neutrally, not appearing as he totally did or totally didn’t, but didn’t say any more than that. He didn’t want to rush into this just yet. And that was without the whole ‘trust’ issue. Trust was something he certainly didn’t believe Moore held to.
“The oldest vampire was turned perhaps five years ago, no more than that,” Moore went on. “The rest average out at between three months to two years. For someone of your experience, they should provide no difficulty. You get in, destroy as many as possible, and get out again. Once you have completed your objective and made your escape, I will meet you back here in two nights’ time.”
Once upon a time, Kyle had watched a lot of movies. He didn’t do so now; his attention tended to wander and he viewed both movies and TV shows with the air of cynicism somebody who lived in the ‘real world’ regarded fiction, but he knew how this was played. Ish. “To give me my payment?”
Moore frowned. “I would have assumed ten vampires would be payment enough.”
Kyle thought about that. “You’re right. But, I’d still like a little something to keep me going.”
“Then it is a good job I prepared for that eventuality. I will have it ready for when you return here, but you can be assured it will be more than a ‘little’ something to keep you going. And you will have earned my employer’s respect, which could very well lead on to further work between us.”
When Moore had finished, Kyle was deep in thought. On the one hand, he didn’t know if this guy was setting him up to get fucked. Jumping into a roomful of vampires with no more than a stranger’s word that there would be a maximum of ten did not sound like a great idea, even for Kyle. On the other hand, the reward would be very nice, and the ‘work’ could keep him occupied for if, no when, Cole and Vince turned against him. He could use the rewards to provide him with a way out of LA when this mysterious ‘Stevenson’ began pushing too far. He’d also have to remember to keep his reward quiet, or Vince and Cole might suspect something.
“Mr. Moore, you have yourself a deal.”
Moore smiled. “Excellent.” He removed a piece of paper from the suitcase. “Here is the location of the Blood Axes’ basement…”
Starring Greg Ellis as Moore.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday 14th March – 12:28am
So, here he was. Waiting in one of those alleys - everybody knows the type - the stereotypical one, trying to restrain himself while waiting for two vampires from a gang who he would fight and lead to a rival gang, so that the vamps could return to their gang, organise an attack and get into a big fight whilst Kyle attacked their ‘reserves’. All on behalf of a mysterious guy working for another mysterious guy.
On reflection, Kyle thought that perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea, after all. There was a reason he didn’t trust people. And if he ended up dead, some twisted slave, or on show, that would be it.
Behind Kyle was the back entrance to a dodgy club, one that was virtually an all-you-can-eat buffet for vampires. The door was shut and locked and could only be opened from the inside, but that wouldn’t stop vampiric strength, and he guessed the Blood Axes had some sort of deal going with the owners.
He was on his third cigarette in the last ten minutes already. He had been standing in this same spot, where Moore told him the Blood Axes’ members frequently headed to the club when hunting, for almost an hour. The whole thing smelled fishy.
Screw the whole thing. Night had fallen, and he was in his element. *Dust a couple of vamps, then head out, look for Vince and Cole, see what trouble we could get up to tonight.*
Then the two vampires rounded the corner ahead of him and entered into the alley.
Kyle stepped back into the shadows of a doorway so he could take them by surprise. He was easily able to identify them from the jackets with the blood-dripping axes on the backs and left shoulder. One was several inches shorter than the other, but looked tough. The taller one, although not quite as muscular as the shorter, moved with a bulk in his jacket, which meant some kind of weapon. They would probably give a really good fight, but he wasn’t here to fight. Not really.
Remaining in the doorway until the vampires were right next to him, Kyle leapt form his hiding place and dived headfirst towards the shorter vampire. He grabbed the vamp and knocked him into the taller one, who was just turning in surprise and reaching for whatever weapon he held. The collision knocked them both flying, and they hit the ground the same time as Kyle did. Interestingly, all three got back up at the same time.
Kyle had to keep the vampire with the weapon from drawing it, whatever it was, so as he rushed the short vamp he made an effort to knock him into the taller one as often as possible. As they began trading blows he met success, but sooner or later the vamp would manage to pull his weapon out.
He did so when on the floor, and Kyle snarled at the sight of it. A gun. Aimed at him.
Duck, you fool!
The command just registered in time for Kyle to throw himself to the ground, the retort of the gun echoing in his ears as the bullet whistled past his head and blew a chunk out of the alley wall.
Now he was pissed.
Shifting form as he leapt up off the ground, Kyle spun low, kicking out and smashing the nose of the shorter vampire whilst his tail whipped round and slapped the other across the face. Both impacts made burn marks, and the two vampires fell away.
Seizing upon his advantage, Kyle pressed on to the armed vamp. He wrapped his tail around the wrist holding the gun, squeezing as hard as he could, whilst he dealt a number of blows to his chest and face. In desperation the vampire pulled the trigger, but the gun, pointed away from Kyle, instead missed him and punched through the shoulder of the shorter vampire. That one collapsed to the floor, then the vampire Kyle was pummelling dropped the gun.
Kyle reached down to grab his neck and burn him. Before the vampire caught alight and burnt away, Kyle realised what he was doing. He was supposed to be leading them on, not destroying them. He hadn’t meant to shift form, and wasn’t quite sure why he had. Guns didn’t usually annoy him so much.
The sound of approaching footsteps, undoubtedly drawn by the sound of the gunshot and, if Moore was right, more members of the gang, presented Kyle with an excellent opportunity. He looked up to the mouth of the alley where the sound was coming from, pretended to be shocked, then shifted back to human form and started backing away. He had reached the end of the alley when another four vampires arrived, assessed the situation, and yelled ‘get him!’ at Kyle.
Then the chase was on.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wedensday 14th March – 2:01am
From a rooftop, Kyle watched the Blood Axe gangers search for him. By now there was half a dozen of them, with another four searching just a few blocks away.
Any minute now, they would run into the human sentries. Then Kyle’s job, for now, was done and he could slip away and make ready for tomorrow night.
But for now, he had to stay and make sure the vampires caught sight of one of the humans. Or, better yet, found their base.
There would be a sentry, of course. He knew how these things worked. He also had no regrets about dooming a vampire-fighting gang, one that was probably not so different from the one he had once been a part of, one that had formed out of desperation to survive, because that same gang had doomed Kyle, had cast him out like filth even after he did his best to try and help them. As far as Kyle was concerned, this lot were just the same, and letting the vampires kill them all would be a small measure of personal vengeance. Who cared if they were innocent and unrelated to his own gang? Kyle certainly didn’t, and the question never even entered his warped mind.
Whilst they were still looking, he began planning what he would do with his reward. Booze, of course. And cigarettes. Lots of both. Maybe some drugs. And perhaps a crossbow. Or a gun. Hell, both, if the reward was big enough. Although it wasn’t like he needed a weapon. A crossbow had often crossed his mind, so to speak, and he had, of course, always wanted a gun.
It would have to be kept from Cole and Vincent, though. He didn’t want them getting suspicious of him, but he wanted to have other contacts and resources in case their ‘friendship’ went to hell-
His thoughts were broken off when he saw one of the vampires sniff the air, and have hurried words with his fellow gang members, along with several gestures in the direction of the humans’ warehouse. They moved in closer and closer, and then a shout rang out as a sentry spotted them, and vice versa. The vampires, recognising the human as one of their enemies, forgot all about Kyle and gave chase. Kyle turned away. His job was done.
He missed the sentry trying to lose the vampires amongst the streets - and failing - and missed a small group of vampire-fighters arrive to desperately try and aid the sentry. He missed the skirmish that ensued, and the humans retreating to their warehouse, and missed the vampires discovering it before swiftly withdrawing as the vampire-fighters came out in force.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Wednesday 14th March – 10:33pm
Larry removed his head from the neck of the corpse and burped, tossing the husk away.
Fang looked over in disgust. “For crying out loud, man. It’s bad enough we have to sit around here guarding some dumb parcel without you burping like a pig.”
“Uh, sorry, boss.” Larry looked sheepish and Fang snorted. No wonder Larry had been left behind, he’d only go and get himself staked.
And no wonder he was left behind, he thought turning to look at the other ten vampires. They were the dregs; the youngest, least experienced, and most stupid. Fang could easily see that their leader, Axe, had left him here to keep an eye on their place because he was the only one Axe trusted to do the job properly, to hold down the fort whilst he was away campaigning.
Fang liked the idea of that. This was his chance to prove to Axe and the others his worth.
He took out a cigarette, then cursed after he couldn’t find his lighter. “Hey, Eyeball. Got a light-?”
Fang’s question was cut off as Eyeball, standing over at the other side of the lair, exploded. A kid stood behind him, gripping a stake and wearing a smile.
“Sorry, ‘Eyeball’s’ a little unavailable right now. But I got a light,” Kyle answered, then morphed and leapt towards the shocked vampire.
Thursday 15th March – 1:03am
Moore, sitting at the poker table, looked up from his phone as a roughed-up Kyle limped in. “He’s still alive. Yes, he just walked in now. Of course.” He hung up and flicked the cell shut, putting it away in a pocket and stood up. Kyle walked straight over to the table and dropped the package in the middle, right next to the closed-again suitcase. “Excellent work, Mr. Ashton. I trust there was no difficulty?”
“Yeah, there was,” Kyle replied, his voice deadpan. “There were twelve vampires. You said ten.”
Moore nodded slowly. “Unfortunate. You have only my deepest apologies.”
Kyle finally smiled. “Hey, no need to apologise. Could have done with more.” He cracked his knuckles for emphasis. From Moore’s point of view, it appeared from the way Kyle winced every now and again his knuckles weren’t the only thing that he cracked.
“Of course. But other than that, everything went smoothly?”
“No problems at all,” Kyle replied, not mentioning how sore his ribs or arm felt; the signs of cracks and breaks, ignoring the pain in his wrist and pretending the black eye and split lip didn’t exist. “Even got me a carton of smokes out of it.”
“Then everything went well all round,” Moore said. “Stevenson will be extremely pleased in your performance, Mr. Ashton. I can almost guarantee future work between us.”
Kyle kept his face straight. “That’s fantastic. Reward?”
Moore started as if startled. “Reward? Ah, yes. Of course. I almost forgot.” He bent down, flicked the suitcase open, and spun it round. “I believe this should be satisfactory. Naturally, besides the materialistic there is the future interest Stevenson will have in you. When we have another business opportunity - it may be some time away - I will contact you-”
“That’s great,” Kyle interrupted as he looked in the suitcase and smiled.
Season Four: Mar 1, 2007 - Jun 7, 2007
Thursday, March 15th
3:01 AM
The room was dark, save for the tiny bedside lamp that Cole kept on, a sliver of light to illuminate the book he was engrossed in – Infernal Denizens of the Lower Planes. It was one of Daye’s more long winded required readings, but for the sake of knowledge he forced himself to continue reading.
*SO BORING!* he sighed, slamming the book down on the bed. The teachings of this volume were pretty elementary. *What a waste of my time; Amanda will never know if I didn’t finish,* he convinced himself, as he prepared to go to sleep. *Sleep would be good.* Vince had retired to bed much earlier, and even Kyle had returned home and hit the sack about an hour ago.
*Wonder where he was off to anyways?* Cole shrugged, not giving it much thought – it wasn’t as if he was Kyle’s babysitter.
A few minutes after the kid and turned off the light, his eyes shot open. *What the hell?!* He could feel it, rushing through the apartment - a wave of supernatural power. Jumping to his feet, Cole attuned his senses to the magic and began to follow the flow.
Kyle’s room, it led to Kyle’s room. *Now that is odd.*
Cole pushed his friend’s bedroom door open, and marched in with little restraint.
“Kyle, wake up,” he ordered.
Kyle groaned. He groaned again, then batted at the air. But the incessant nagging wouldn’t go away. Eventually he pried his eyes open and focused on Cole. “Okay, okay! I’m awake.” *Why can’t the kid leave me alone? I'm tired and sore after that night’s… ‘exercises’.*
“What?!?” he demanded.
Cole ignored his friend’s obviously annoyed tone. Something was going on, and he would find out what.
“Where were you tonight?” he said bluntly, taking Kyle off guard.
“Uhh… what?” Kyle asked again, whilst he gathered his thoughts. “I was-” Then he broke off, remembering that he didn’t have to tell Cole anything. His expression hardened, his voice turning frosty. “Okay, for a start I don’t have to explain what I’ve been up to to anybody, let alone you. But if you really want to know, I was out hunting, okay?” Believing the conversation over, he lay back down and rolled over.
Cole didn’t budge, and to emphasize the fact that he wasn’t leaving, he flicked on the light switch of the room. He couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed the discomfort the intrusive brightness brought to his older companion.
“I thought we were friends Kyle, and friends don’t lie to each other.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Cole looked sternly back at Kyle. "Now I’ll ask again, where were you tonight?"
Kyle sat up. He was obviously not going to get rid of Cole any time soon. He was also not going to tell him what happened any time soon, either. Moore and Stevenson, and their rewards, were going to be his ace up his sleeve, to pull out and use if he found himself way up the proverbial creek; a creek which these ‘friends’ may put him up. It had happened before…
“Yeah, friend and not my mother. Which means I don’t have to explain to you what I’ve been up to. What part of that aren’t you getting? I go out hunting all the time and don’t usually get this shit.”
“Well usually when you come back from hunting you don’t reek of magic!” Cole spat back immediately. “Even now I can see it, flowing into you, altering your physiology. Now tell me Kyle, doesn’t that sound like something a little strange to be happening after a simple night of hunting?”
Cole took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He hadn’t meant to snap at his friend, but being blatantly lied to was infuriating. “Look Kyle, I’m not trying to be your mother, but that doesn’t stop be from being concerned for a friend.” He paused a moment, analyzing the working of the foreign magic. “Now before I go on, this needs to stop,” he said more to himself than to his friend.
Raising his hand, Cole began to mutter, conjuring an incantation that would break the flow of the interfering spell. “There, I broke the contact between you and whoever is trying to enchant you”. A look of genuine concern crossed his face, as he looked Kyle in the eyes. “Whatever or whoever you are dealing with, you can trust me Kyle. Being magicked without your knowledge can be dangerous, and you shouldn’t keep that to yourself.”
*Reeking of magic… altering physiology… enchanted… what the hell?* Kyle sat bolt upright, his anger fading away as confusion reigned instead, making him frown. “I… I have no idea. Magic, I…” He shook his head to try and order his thoughts. “I didn’t have anything to do with magic. What was it doing?” Kyle asked, trying to move the conversation away from how he got enchanted in the first place.
“I think it was actually trying to heal you,” Cole grimaced. “Still, I had to stop it in case, you never know exactly what it could have been doing.”
Uncrossing his arms, Cole grabbed the seat at the desk on the opposite side of the room, and took a seat – he wasn’t going to let Kyle avoid the topic. “I’m serious, what have you been up to? Christ Kyle, if you’re dealing with mages, your life could be in danger. Is it that bad that you can’t tell me?”
Kyle thought hard before answering. Was his life in danger? Well, more so than usual. In a way, it was. The fight with those twelve vampires really had been the fight of his life.
*Wait a minute,* he suddenly thought. *Healing me? Why would somebody do that? Unless… Moore.* It was working for Moore and Stevenson that he had sustained the injuries. Moore had promised him a large reward and further work, and to work for them again he’d need to be fit and healthy. *They did this to me, so that I’d be able to work for them again.* Satisfied he wasn’t in danger, he now just had to work out how to stop Cole’s pestering.
“I told you, I went hunting. That’s all there was too it,” he shrugged. “Maybe I just got lucky, and some kind witch or whatever saw me so banged up she decided to he help out.” Then he paused. “If she was a witch, I might have slept with her…”
On the verge of speaking, Cole finally decided to let the issue drop; if Kyle didn’t want to tell him, well then screw him, he could live with the consequences. “Yeah, I guess that was a possibility,” Cole said lamely, letting his tone convey that he didn’t really believe Kyle’s excuse. Turning to leave, Cole noticed that Kyle had been pretty banged up from his night’s expedition. Where ever he really was, he sure took a good licking.
“Rough fight?” Cole commented, as he began to reach into the spark of his soul. A blue light began to faintly emanate from his hands, growing steadily brighter and finally leaking over onto Kyle, gently healing the wounds and bruises.
A slight pain nagged its way into the mage’s stomach as he increased the strength of the magic – he had been dealing so much with dark energy, that invoking beneficial magic was actually reacting badly to his body.
“If ever you’re hurt, you don’t have to by shy about asking for some help Kyle. Like I said, we’re friends. I’ve got your back, I hope you know that.”
Cole turned and walked out Kyle’s room. When he reached the door, Kyle finally spoke up.
“Thanks,” he paused, “Pal.”
“No problem,” Cole replied, then switched off the light and walked out.
Kyle sat in darkness for a few minutes, thinking over what Cole had said to him, and what had happened. Unhappy with where his thoughts were going, he finally lay back down and soon drifted off to sleep.