Obsidian Gate - Chapter Four

*Well, here it is, Chapter Four. Can't believe I've already got this much up. Hope you all like this. For those of you in the know, thought I would clue you in on a little giggle before you read. You'll notice that the tags for Obsidian Gate read "OG." I actually chose that from my favorite play, Phantom of the Opera, where he always signs his notes with those letters, which stand for Opera Ghost. Just thought I'd let a little of my inner geek out. Enjoy!*

Chapter Four:
Silver Lining? Not so much

Born under a bad sign
I been down since I began to crawl
If it wasn't for bad luck
I wouldn't have no luck at all
- Booker T. Jones/ William Bell

- Earth -

Danthias returned to consciousness slowly, like a drowning man swimming frantically to emerge, gasping, from the water’s depths. Whatever drug they had given him was potent. Dan could still feel the aftereffects thrumming in his veins, like a stilted staccato, even as his natural healing and immune system attempted to expel the lethargic concoction. As the elf’s silver eyes finally fluttered into focus, he glimpsed the startled face of a young woman above him, frozen at the lycan’s sudden movement.
She was human, not really a surprise in this place, and slender, with neat, shoulder length brown hair and big, doe eyes, which wore a startled look. She was bent over slightly and she wore a clean, white uniform. Dan assumed she was a healer or a nurse of some kind. All of the color seemed to have drained from her pale skin and she swallowed quickly, lips pursing a bit. Danthias considered her fear odd but not entirely unexpected, given the reception he’d received so far.
A cursory glance confirmed the elf’s suspicions that he was in a hospital. The walls, floors, and ceilings all were painted neutral, clinical shades of white, gray, and beige. The room was filled with odd machines that chirped and beeped, some of which Dan could see that he was, unfortunately, attached to. An i.v. of a much more advanced sort than what the elf was used to connected his arm to a slender, metal pole, where a pouch of a clear, unidentified substance hung. No doubt it dealt a small dose of the narcotic that was, even now, sapping his strength along with the healing serum and necessary fluids that were making their way through his body.
Danthias groaned and started to sit up but his body instantly protested the sudden motion. Cursing, the elf grunted and laid back on his pillow for just a moment and let himself recover from the pain. Now that he knew where he was, Dan wanted out of this place. Now. His attention was drawn back to the nurse beside him, as she slowly stepped away from the bed. Dan gave the woman a weak smile that he hoped wasn’t intimidating, however, she visibly shied away, heading smartly for the door with a decided padding of her feet. The elf wanted to call after her but was too tired to even make the attempt. He simply laid back on the pillow and plotted, as best he could, a way to escape the sticky situation he was in.
As he lay there, contemplating what he should do, a realization suddenly dawned on him. Frantic, Danthias saw that he had been stripped right down to his bones and put in some kind of white gown. The necklace that he had worn hidden under his shirt was gone. Cursing his ill luck again, Dan wondered how long it had been missing and how long it was until the full moon. If that necklace wasn't located... Dan didn't even want to contemplate just how horrific that would be. Before he could really begin his search in earnest, however, life took a distracting turn for the worst.

2.

Alexandra could not contain her nervousness as she, Landen, O’Brian, Marissa, and Sarah all finally made their way to Saint Michael’s Hospital. The young woman leapt out of the car almost as soon as O’Brian had safely parked it, barely sparing a glance for her friends exiting Charlie’s car behind her. Her feet carried her fast and faster into the building straight to the front desk. A quick inquiery and the flash of a badge from O’Brian lead them to the elevators, heading for the third floor. Luckily, the elevators in the hospital were rather large so Alex’s claustrophobia never came into play, even with four other people beside her.
The metal contraption came to a sudden halt and the doors slid open with a hallow, high pitched bong. Alex shot out of the door before the sound had even carried, praying she wasn’t too late, and nearly collided with a young, doe-eyed nurse, as the woman raced towards the information desk, her short dark hair streaming out behind her.
“Get Dr. Silicki right away!” she called, “The patient in room 307’s awake!”
Al’s attention was instantly drawn by that and her companions followed her, arriving at the nurse’s station just in time to see an elderly gentleman with glasses and salt and pepper hair approach the desk. He was dressed in the typical white coat, stethescope around the neck and clipboard in hand. He was in his mid-forties, if appearances proved correct, and looked midly irritated.
“What seems to be the problem?” he asked.
“The patient...in room 307...he’s awake!”
The petite nurse seemed aware and embarrassed that she was stammering and stuttering so badly but could not seem to help herself. The doctor was unimpressed.
“And this is news because?.....”
“He’s a lycan!” the nurse gasped, as if that should explain everything.
“Until he proves hostile, he’s just another patient,” the doctor said sternly, then, motioning her away, he turned towards Alex and her party, having seen them out of the corner of his eye, “How can I help you?”
The nurse, noticing her dismissal, shamefacedly turned and returned to her duties. No one paid her even a second glance, except for Marissa, who gave her a disgusted little sniff and glare, as she passed by. Before Alex had a chance to speak up, O’Brian stepped forward, Landen on his heels, both flashing badges.
“Police, I’m Detective O’Brian, this’s Detective Landen and our associates’re with the Sirens Detective Agency,” he said, “We need t’speak with a patient o’ yers, a lycan.”
“I’m Dr. Silicki,” the physician replied, “If you’re referring to the gentleman who was brought in earlier with all the knife wounds, I’m in charge of his case and I’ll let you see him as soon as he’s fit for company.”
“How’s he doin’, Doc?” O’Brian asked.
“He took a bullet to the stomach and the knives were silver tipped,” came the reply, “The boy’s damn lucky to be alive and even luckier he’s not a werewolf. We have to reinsert the i.v. every two hours or it just heals right over the needle, silver coating and all. It’ll be a while before he’s fully recovered but he seems to be stabilizing.”
“Won’t the silver cause him pain?” Landen asked and the doctor regarded him stoicly over his glasses.
“It’ll make him itch like crazy but better that than trying to use regular steel. That only takes moments to heal over.”
“I thought lycans hated silver,” O’Brian said.
“They do,” the doctor replied, “but werewolves are the only ones to whom it’s fatal. The rest just react to it like a mild allergen. It causes their wounds to heal slowly, more like a human.”
“You got any idea what breed he is?” O’Brian asked.
The doctor just shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “You’ll just have to ask him yourself.”
Landen and O’Brian seemed to nod at that, then regarded the doctor seriously.
“We really need t’get in and see this guy, Doc,” O'Brian said, “We got some people comin’ down here t’take ‘im away fer a crime we’re pretty sure he didn’t commit. It would be helpful if we could talk t’him before that happens.”
“I’ll let you in to see him but I have to check him out, first,” the doctor said, “police or no police, that boy is my patient and I won’t see him jeopardized.”
“Understood, Doc,” O’Brian said, “Lead the way.”

3.

Danthias snapped back to himself still lying in the same position and groaned, as renewed pain stabbed through his skull.
“Must’ve blacked out,” he thought, “This isn’t good.”
Before he could finish those dire thoughts, the door to his room swung open and a gentleman in a white coat entered with several people in tow. It didn’t take Dan long to figure out the white coat was a doctor, as the man leaned down and seemed to examine the elf from every angle he could. He was speaking to the people with him and everyone was talking in a language that Danthias did not know, the same one everyone in this cursed place seemed to speak. It was with every fiber of his being that he forced himself to concentrate and take stock of who was in the room with him. In addition to the doctor and two gentleman in suits, there was a portly looking man in white and, to Dan’s surprise, consternation, and delight, three very beautiful women at his bedside.
One had a distinctive air of danger to her, despite her flawless, exotic appearance. She had short, black hair, very dark, expressive eyes, lush lips, high cheekbones, soft, tanned skin, and more muscles than any normal woman would know what to do with. She had a soft, rounded face that would make a succubus jealous and a lush body made for sin, set off by an impressive rack. However, she was dressed in all black from head to toe and Danthias sensed a distinctive aura about her, a powerful energy that could only mean one thing: lycanthrope.
“She must be alpha,” Dan thought, “but what breed is she?”
The elf was having trouble making heads or tails of the olfactory sensory input he was getting, but he shrugged it off. Gingerly, he tried to sit up. Firm, gentle hands reached out to lower him carefully back down onto the pillow. He wanted to struggle against them but stopped when he saw whose hands they were. The woman was gorgeous, with long, black hair, and black eyes filled with more wisdom than her apparent years would indicate. She was dressed in a red, sleeveless shirt of some kind, black pants, and odd, red gloves. She was also the one Dan had saved from being robbed, the one with the great legs. The shock of recognition momentarily stunned Danthias. Then, realizing she intended to keep him immobile, Dan rebelled. He had never been a very good patient and he wanted out of this bed. Now.
As he tried to get up again, the woman made a small gesture, indicating his stomach. This made the lycanthrope pause long enough to lift up the white sheet he was under and really survey the extent of the damage done to him. The wounds were all ugly, red, and swollen, as if they had only barely healed, an impossibility given Dan’s incredible healing. Nestled in and amongst the myriad of knife wounds, Dan saw the ugly, red gash across his abdomen, the spot where the bullet had entered him, and winced. Instantly, the truth dawned on Danthias. All of his wounds looked much less healed than they should be.
“Silver weapons,” Dan thought, “No wonder I feel horrible!”
It then occurred to him that these people must have been responsible for helping him get the bullet out. Perhaps they knew what he was, perhaps they didn’t. Either way, the looks on their faces were concerned and it seemed to Danthias that they cared enough to see if he was alright. They could not have known that he was not a werewolf and probably thought the wounds were much more debilitating than what they really were. It made Danthias want to sit up and see how terribly he had gotten hurt, but the woman in red stopped him from sitting up when he tried.
“Bloody women,” he thought, annoyed.
He had not consumed his normal diet in almost twenty four hours and his stomach was beginning to cramp. However, as much as he wanted to indulge his hunger, he knew that he could not subject the women to his true lycan urgings, until he was certain of them. Danthias, glancing around him, motioned for his haversack. The third woman in the room, sensing what he wanted, handed it to him with a dazzling smile and Dan felt his heart skip a beat. She was, quite literally, the most beautiful woman Danthias had ever laid eyes on. She appeared to be about 25 and had eyes like the purest sapphire, a drowning midnight blue. Her hair was pure blue/black, as dark as midnight and it trailed in a braid all the way to her knees. She had the face and body of a goddess; full, red lips, soft, tanned skin, high cheekbones, a softly rounded face, amazing curves, and a toned, lithe body. She stood about five feet and four inches tall and had Dan’s immediate attention. It had been a long time since Danthias had felt this kind of instant attraction and cursed the timing of it all.
“I’m either in Heaven or in Hell,” the elf muttered to himself, thanking the gorgeous woman in his own language, as he took his backpack from her.
When she looked startled but did not respond, Danthias assumed the worst, a horrible thought occurring to him.
“They don’t speak my language,” he thought, “just brilliant!”
Rummaging through his belongings, the elf managed to find the vial he was looking for. It was a small, innocuous, red potion carefully wrapped and put away. Dan quickly popped the top and downed the contents. Everyone in the room seemed to panic, reaching for the vial, then stopped, when they saw its effects. For a healing potion, it was potent and went straight through him, soothing sore muscles and helping his hard-pressed healing system handle all the recent trauma.
The potion had done its work. He couldn’t see it but he could feel the energy of the healing flowing through him and he was somewhat less nauseous. Complementing his natural healing, his face now bore very few, minute signs of his fight, only a small bruise or two to mar his handsome visage. He could tell that his nose had been expertly set because it had healed properly, as had his ribs. His stomach still hurt but the wound was much less agitated now. It wasn’t perfect but it would do.
The elf intended to stand up but then noticed how everyone in the room was suddenly staring at him, curiosity peeked. They were all looking at him with such a serious manner that the elf began to wonder if he had done something wrong. Casually, he tried greeting them in his own language, then in Common, and was unsurprised to find that they could not seem to understand a word of what he said.
Groaning, the elf sat up and began systematically going through every language he knew. Dwarven, Halfling, Drow, Undercommon, and Quo-to yielded no response. Neither did any of the other dozen or so languages that he knew. The more he struggled with what he knew of those languages and attempted to make himself understood, the more frustrated he got. When he had finished with those, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
“Well, I know some swear words in Abyssal, Infernal, and Goblinoid, but I don’t think those are going to help me any,” Dan thought, “I know Draconic but I don’t know for sure if that woman over there would understand it or not and my Latin stinks. Oh well, I suppose I’d better try it anyway.”
Cursing himself for not studying the language of magic harder, Danthias wracked his brain and got out what he hoped was a passable greeting in Latin. He thought he saw one of the women perk up a bit and felt his hopes soar.
“They said Latin was imported from another world,” Dan thought, “I just hope it was this one.”
The doctor intervened then, noting that Dan seemed to be a bit flushed from all of his exertions, and began herding everyone outside into the main room. The elf tried to stop them but what strength he had was gone, combining with the healing potion to give him what mobility he had attained. Much to Dan's annoyance, the infernal drug still cursing through his veins was beginning to take effect again, aiding the healing, but at a cost. The elf could do little, as the doctor and his companions left the room, the door clanging shut behind them, and Dan sighed in terrible frustration. Would this never end?

4.

“We really need t’talk t’this guy, Doc,” O’Brian pleaded.
He knew his words were reaching deaf ears the minute Dr. Silicki started shaking his head.
“The patient has already exerted himself far too much tonight,” he said, “He shouldn’t be moved until tomorrow, when we can be certain he’s healed.”
O’Brian didn’t like it but seemed to be taking this with good grace. Landen and he both just looked at each other and immediately started negotiating, seeing what they could do to set up security for the young man. As the doctor and police talked, Alexandra glanced over through the windows at the young lycan. He was lying back on the pillow, eyes closed, as if fighting some inner weariness. When he opened his eyes he looked back through the glass and glanced over at Al with a weary smile. He looked so tired and worried that Al’s heart went out to him.
“We gotta help him, Hermana,” she said softly to Sarah.
“I know,” her sister replied, smiling, “We will.”
“It’s our job, ain’t it?” Marissa said, giving Al a small grin from where she stood, arms crossed, against the wall.
Alex nodded, then smiled.
“We’ll have t’get the other girls in on this,” she said, “I gotta feelin’ we gon’ need all de firepower we can get.”
“Amen t’that,” Marissa muttered, scowling, as she noticed the young nurse from earlier creeping her way towards the lycan’s room. She gave another snort of disgust and ignored her promptly.
As the nurse tentatively entered the room to check on her patient, the elevator doors slid open, chiming again. Alex looked over and her heart fluttered in panic.
“Landen!” she gasped, grabbing his arm, trying to cal his attention to the new arrivals.
Landen started to brush her off, annoyed, then saw who she was indicating and cursed, loudly and voraciously.
Peter Ewald and Tony Russell, accompanied by an entire squad of policemen trained in lycanthropic extractions, swaggered up to where the small group stood with the doctor. Marissa snarled as soon as their scent reached her and made a motion forward, as if to intercept them, but Sarah smoothly held her back, placing an arm gently in front of her.
“If any of these women interfere, feel free to shoot them,” Ewald said, giving Marissa a pointed grin, as he passed.
“Better have somethin’ pretty strong in that gun, pal,” Marissa muttered, “Lead won’t stop me.”
“Maybe not, Miss Fang, but yer friends will,” Ewald said, “And, unlike you, they ain’t bullet proof.”
“Scumbag,” Marissa snapped, restrained, once again, by Sarah’s firm, unyielding hand.
“Y’know, you can’t protect her, forever, Lee,” Ewald said to Sarah, “Sooner or later, y’might wanna have a long talk with her ‘cause she’s gonna wind up on the wrong end of a barrell with that temper o’hers.”
“We shall see, Detective,” Sarah replied coldly, barely acknowledging the man’s ranting, as she continued to force Marissa to back down.
Ewald scoffed, ignoring Alexandra completely, as he strutted over to Dr. Silicki and flashed his badge in a very ostentatious manner. Alex glared heatedly at his back, eyes narrowed to cat slits, and was pointedly reminded of all those men who were constantly whipping out their equipment just to prove they were better endowed.
“Ah’ll just bet he’s compensatin’ f’somethin’” Al thought, annoyed. Ewald, meanwhile, simply ignored all and continued to posture, demanding to know if Dr. Silicki was in charge.
“How can I help you?” the doctor asked, giving Ewald a look that said he didn’t much care for him, either.
“I’m here t’collect a prisoner, a lycan brought in with multiple stab wounds an’ a bullet wound in ‘is gut,” Ewald replied.
“The patient you’re referring to is still under my care,” the doctor said, icily, “He won’t be going anywhere until I deem he’s ready.”
“Are his wounds healed?” Ewald demanded.
“Somewhat, but I’d still like to keep him, just for observation,” Silicki snapped, “The wounds were made by silver, you know!”
“Is he mobile?”
“Barely,” the doctor replied.
“Is he conscious?”
“He seems lucid enough, but -”
“Then he’s well enough!” Ewald snapped, cutting the doctor off in mid-speech, “As long as he can answer questions, that’s all we need! This guy’s dangerous and I ain’t about t’allow him t’run free ‘cause some bleedin’ heart wants t’hold his hand!”
Silicki started to protest but Ewald began moving up with all of his muscle, the vast majority of it headed straight for the lycan’s room.
“Move aside,” Ewald said.
For a moment, it looked as if the good doctor would protest, however, in the end, he stepped aside and let Ewald pass with a cold, angry look at him and all the manpower behind him.
“Just so you understand, Detective, I will be reporting this to your superiors and testifying against you in court when you get sued for interfering with a patient’s well-being,” Dr. Silicki informed him.
“Be my guest, Doc,” Ewald muttered.
Alex surged forward, attempting to aid the mysterious young man, as the squad moved in on the room. She was cut short by a solid wall of police muscle that easily hauled her out of the way. Landen, Charlie, O’Brian, and Dr. Silicki were all yelling in the background, loud, vehement protests, but it was doing no good. The men held Alex fast, surrounding her and her fellow Sirens. There was nowhere they could move and nothing they could do.
All of them were forced to watch, as Ewald and his gang closed in on the young lycan. In the end, he didn’t make it easy for them, but the handsome stranger was taken.

5.

Danthias jerked his head up as the door to his room was thrown open violently and two gentlemen in suits entered, their faces deadly serious. They both had short, neat dark brown hair and intense dark eyes and they were not alone. The older looking of the two looked at Dan with an expression that was mingled parts disgust and determination, stepping towards the elf with a purposeful stride. People in the main room were yelling and causing a bunch of commotion but it didn't seem to be doing a lot of good. The nurse shrieked and leapt out of the way of the incoming cops and Dan immediately went into defense mode. He knew an arrest when he saw one and was determined not to go quietly.
The head cop stepped forward and began speaking words in that horrid tongue that seemed native here. The elf didn’t bother to pay him, his sneer, or his posturing, any heed. He had eyes only for the black leather backpack across the room. If he could just get to his things... The dirty cop stepped forward and Danthias deftly sidestepped him. To his astonishment, the lycan was seized out of midair roughly and deposited firmly on the bed, flat on his back.
Danthias snarled, lashing out with his fists and feet, a well placed kick sending one of his aggressors flying. The goon was quickly replaced by another, however, and the moon elf began to panic. Using every ounce of his lycanthrope strength, Dan heaved up, surging suddenly, the force of his sheer brute strength toppling his assailants in all directions.
Using the distraction to his advantage, Danthias leapt towards the door, moving with all the speed and supernatural grace of his lycan blood. The elf soared over his assailants, on the verge of escape, when he felt a sharp poke in his side. Glancing down, Dan saw a small dart or needle sticking out of his left side. Immediately, his body felt weak and he began to stumble. Dimly, Danthias was aware of the cop holding a gun of some kind but the elf was too preoccupied with his own survival to really process it.
The man reached Dan quickly and jerked him roughly up and over. The elf struggled to reach his haversack one last time but, in his confusion and want to not injure the man with his superior strength, he simply could not move fast enough to dodge both the man and his partner. Straining as hard as he could, Dan tried to fight the many hands that were pinning him down to the bed but his body just wasn’t up to the battle. Seven or eight pairs of hands held the lycan fast, as he convulsed and twitched, and finally, sank down onto the mattress. They had Dan on his back and a pair of manacles on his wrists before the lycan even knew what was going on. Jerking instinctively, the moon elf tried to snap his manacles and was amazed to discover that he couldn’t. They were some kind of adamantine alloy. At that moment, just how much trouble he was really in dawned on him and he could only think to himself that the gods must be laughing at him this day. When he felt the first burning sensation around his wrist, Danthias merely cursed his luck again. Silver. Perfect. Just perfect. Then, all the world seemed to go fuzzy and Dan finally just let himself drift off.

6.

Alexandra watched helplessly as the gorgeous lycan was only revived enough to have his rights read to him and carted unceremoniously out towards the elevators. Al caught the young man’s haunting silver gaze, as he was carted off between two armed guards. There was such despair written there, as of someone completely surrendering to their fate. It broke Alex’s heart and she had to fight not to cry, as two of Ewald’s goons kept her from surging forward to help the young man.
Ewald, meanwhile, smiled a bit, grinning as he saw the young lycan struggle with the manacles.
“You won’t be breakin’ outta those anytime soon. They’re made with a special adamantine/silver alloy,” he said, his smile turning cruel, “You’ll break before they do, boy.”
“Y’all can’t do this t’him!” Al cried, “Those things’ll burn his wrists!”
“Aww, what a shame!,” Ewald said, “So sorry that the dangerous lycan criminal’s gonna get a little rash! I know all about you and your little group, Lee, so just pipe down and stay outta police business for a change. The boy’s gotta go in an’ I ain’ gonna wind up cut up an’ turnin’ furry just so your cute little boyfriend can run free.”
“He’s a witness to a crime we’re investigating,” O’Brian said, glaring full force at Ewald, “and he doesn’t seem to speak English. We gotta figure out what’s goin’ on here before we just book ‘im!”
“I got several eye witnesses say this’s the guy that jumped ‘em,” Ewald countered, “I got a warrant for this suspect’s arrest and a warrant to enter these premesis to get ‘em. You gotta problem with that, you take it up with the boss!”
“No, what I got a problem with is your attitude,” O’Brian said, stepping squarely in front of Ewald, his voice a deadly quiet whip, “You haven’t even read ‘im his rights yet, or tried t’find someone who speaks his language, you’re interferin’ with an investigation, and I’m seriously thinkin’ of reporting you t’the Captain for insolence and belligerence.”
“Not to mention the fact that you’re a racist piece of crap,” Landen said, a smile wide enough to encompass the Hudson on his face, “We are soooo gonna nail you for this.”
“Save yer mutie lovin’ rhetoric for someone who cares!” Ewald shot, “You wanna dance, fine! My witnesses’ll be comin’ down t’the station t’i.d. this creep. You’re welcome t’whine t’the Captain all you want an’ if he lets you play, fine, but do yourselves a favor and stay outta my way. You don’t wanna tangle with me. Right now, I just wanna get this chump down t’the station before he flips out so I can find someone t’read him his rights and book ‘em.”
“Landen’s right, you really are a scumbag!” Alex shot, her eyes narrowing.
“Outta my way!” Ewald growled, motioning to Russell.
The two men both reached for Dan at the same time. The lycan growled at them full force, fangs bared. Both officers startled back for a moment than started forward again. The elf kicked out at them with his legs, hoping to leap backwards. He was brought up short, however, when he felt a sharp prick to his leg. Gazing down, he swore the most vile oath he knew, as he saw the hypodermic needle sticking out of his leg. He had seen enough of his world’s equivalent to know exactly what was coming next and cursed again, as his vision began to swim and the wound to burn.
“Silver needle, sonova-, not again!” was all Dan had time to think before his legs gave out completely and he slumped to the ground, his entire field of vision going black.
O’Brian’s face, if it were at all possible, went even more dark and stormy.
“You’re gonna fry for this,” he said to Ewald between gritted teeth, “I’m gonna see to it personally.”
“He resisted arrest,” Ewald said, “and the new laws say we have every right t’trank ‘em if they get uppity. Besides, it’ll wear off in an hour or two. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Without another word, Ewald and Russell carefully collected their prisoner between the two of them and began to lead him out of the room. All the rest there glared after the duo, disgust and anger written on their faces as clear as day. Finally, after the two officers had gone, Alexandra was released and she had to force herself not to shove at the man who had held her, unshed tears in her eyes. Why the stranger and his predicament should effect her so profoundly, Alexandra had no clue but, for whatever reason, she knew she cared about the young man’s fate and Alex had never let go of something she cared about.
Following both her heart and intuition, Al quickly got the attention of the nurse on duty, who was standing there with a forlorn look on her face.
“You, what’s yoh name?” Alexandra asked, all Southern Cajun charm.
“Cordelia,” the nurse replied, taken aback.
“Cordelia, honey, Ah could use yoah help,” Al said, smooth as silk.
The woman nervously nodded her willingness and Alex smiled a bit wider, trying to be as pleasant as possible.
“That fine young man that jus’ got drug away happens t’be a client o’mine,” Al said, “Poor boy’s accused of a crime he didn’t commit and me an’ mah agency’re workin’ wit de cops t’clear his name. Any help y’all could give me’d be greatly appreciated.”
Cordelia pursed her lips for a moment, then frowned slightly.
“How could I help?”
“Well, f’starters, the young men that’re accusin’ mah client’re also here,” Al replied, “If these fine officers an’ mah associates were able t’pinpoint ‘em, we might be able t’convince them t’tell the truth an’ drop the charges, ‘fore that handsome man has t’go t’jail.”
“The men that were brought in earlier are still in intensive care,” Cordelia replied, “They can’t have visitors but I think one of them may have been moved out of ICU by now.”
The nurse bopped back behind the counter of the nurse’s station, quickly searching through records, while Al prayed for a miracle. Landen, who was hurling some final obscenities at the retreating goon squad, noticed the activity and got O’Brian’s attention. As the cops turned to question Al, Cordelia, straightened, smiling.
“He’s on the first floor, room 111,” she said, “His name’s Tobias Simms.”
“Thank you, Cordelia,” Alex replied, “Grand merci.”
“Just make sure you identify yourselves and don’t upset him too much,” Cordelia replied, beaming, “The doctor’ll have my head.”
The man in question was busily making sure all traces of the police had left his building, anger and frustration pouring out of him. Dr. Silicki may have been too busy to hear the comments but Landen and O’Brian were not. They both merely raised an eyebrow, as Al faced them triumphantly.
“What’re you up to now, Lee?” O’Brian demanded.
“Please tell me you ain’t workin’ on gettin’ us fired again,” Landen pleaded.
Alexandra judiciously raised her chin a bit and ignored the comment, plunging on with the good news instead.
“Got us a lead on one o’ those boys accusin’ our lycan,” she said, “Figured we could crack ‘em int’confessin’ his guilt.”
“You sure this guy’ll talk?” O’Brian demanded.
“All we can do is try,” Alex replied, “You in?”
The cops paused for a moment, considering, then nodded.
“I’m gonna regret this,” Landen muttered but, both he and O’Brian followed Alex, Sarah, and Marissa to the elevator and rode it down. On the way down, O’Brian and Landen listened to the few details they’d missed and looked at each other.
“Simms, huh?” O’Brian said, thoughtfully, “From what I understand, he’s a good kid, wrestlin' scholarship an' everything.”
“Yeah, a good kid that got mixed up in the wrong crowd,” Landen commented, “The sheets we had on ‘im say he joined AFH two months ago.”
“How do you wanna do this?” Marissa asked Al, crossing her arms and leaning back against the elevator’s rear.
“I figure a sympathetic ear’d be good enough t’get ‘is attention,” Alex said.
“Perhaps Marissa or I should talk to the boy,” Sarah suggested, having divulged information from the snippets of conversation that she had heard.
“No offense, but no,” Alex replied, “You’re good with people but you radiate too much staunch goodness and Marissa, well, if she didn’t brow beat ‘im, he’d just have trouble thinkin’ ‘cause o’the blood rushin’ away from his head.”
Marissa chuckled but did not say a word, as they exited the elevator and rounded the corner to the room in question. It was like every other hospital room Al had ever seen, sterile, white, and cold. For a moment, bad memories threatened to overwhelm the young woman but she started forward bravely. A gentle hand at her elbow stopped her and Alex turned to face O’Brian, who had remained silent so far but was now toting his infamous somber cop face.
“What’s up?” Al asked, anxious to continue her investigation.
“You should let Landen an’ I question this witness,” O’Brian said.
“WHAT?!” Alex, Sarah, and Marissa all exclaimed as one.
The dirty looks the Detective got didn’t seem to phase him one bit. He just continued on in his calm, logical voice.
“You three may already be in enough trouble, as is, without addin’ charges of impedin’ investigation.”
“We are just attempting to help you do your job by doing ours,” Sarah Lee said, attempting to be as logical as possible.
“Ewald an’ the rest o’the boys won’t see it that way,” Landen pointed out.
“And we’re supposed t’care why?” Marissa muttered darkly.
“You guys’re civvies,” Landen pointed out, “No offense, but that does carry a lotta weight.”
“You ever consider he may not wanna talk t’the cops?!” Al shot indignantly, her temper flaring a bit, “He’s young an’ scared t’death o’ goin’ t’jail an’ rebellious as all Hell t’boot! You go in dere wit yoah suits an’ rules an’ he gon’ clam up on you faster’n you can blink! If y’all jus’ let me talk t’him, Ah might be able t’convince ‘im t’spill what he knows, maybe even talk t’the police.”
O’Brian and Landen appeared unconvinced but Al pleaded.
“Jus’ gimme ten minutes wit’ him an’ if Ah can’t convince ‘em t’talk, Ah’ll back off an’ let y’all try things yoh way.”
Both officers looked at each other for a moment, skeptically.
“You do realize that with your record, you get in any kind o’ trouble, they’ll nail you right t’the wall, right?” Landen pointed out.
“Ah’m willin’ t’take the risk."
O’Brian and Landen just exchanged a significant look and then reluctantly nodded.
“Like Landen said, don’t make us regret this,” O’Brian muttered, his speech almost drowned out by Alexandra’s happy yip.
“Thanks, y’all’re the best!” she exclaimed, fighting off the urge to hug the both of them.
“How did we get suckered int’this?” Landen demanded.
“My sister just has a way of doing these things,” Sarah sighed, smiling.
Meanwhile, O’Brian looked at Alexandra sternly.
“You better share anything the guy tells you,” O’Brian said.
“No problem, boys, trust me,” Al said, flashing one of her million dollar grins, as she reached out and opened the door to the room.
“Yeah, yeah, jus’ don’t get us in trouble,” O’Brian muttered.
“Why is it I always cringe when she says that?” Landen asked, at almost the exact same time, to no one in particular.
Sarah and Marissa both gave Landen sympathetic looks and O’Brian stared at the door intently but Alex barely heard any of it, as the door closed behind her and she was left staring face to face with the boy she was supposed to question.