Obsidian Gate - Chapter Twelve

*Thought you all wouldn't mind a bit of double duty, as this means I have to get cracking on Chapter Thirteen. Here's Twelve and I hope you all really enjoy this*

Chapter Twelve

Danger on the Horizon and More Plots Abound

~ Solaris ~

It was nearly midnight and the pale illumination from the streetlights of Branneth poured into the antechamber of Lord Brenden Karsis. He was sitting in his favorite chair by the fire, a scowl marring his face, and his chin resting on his right hand, which was, in turn propped up by the elbow on the arm of his chair. His dark beard, hair, and eyes all caught small glints of the firelight as he sat but betrayed none of its warmth. A book lay open, forgotten, in his left hand, resting now on his thighs. He had been reading but his attention simply had not seen fit to stay fixed upon his tome. Karsis had no need to wonder what was troubling him. He knew only too well.
de Wynter. That haughty, arrogant, cold, snippy bitch had managed to escape justice one more time. No matter how hard he tried, there just seemed to be nothing that he could pin on this woman, nothing that would stick. This time he had been sure there was nothing the little snipe could do to wriggle her way out of the chopping block, yet she had managed to do just that. Naturally, her lawyer had been brilliant but that wasn’t what had bothered him. It seemed as if nothing had mattered, after the woman had taken the stand and trotted out the sordid details of her marriage for the world to see. The jury had simply bought every word of her story. It was a travesty of justice, but there you had it.
Sighing, Karsis was about to retire for the night when he felt an unseemly draft gust in through one of the windows, which he had cracked to allow some fresh air to permeate the room. Karsis fastened the window shut tight but, as he did, a particularly strong gust made its way through the room, blasting back the curtains and sending the fire all in an uproar. The Lord worked quickly to shut the door but, as he turned, the fire, which the wind had upset, abruptly winked out, curls of flame, sparks, and smoke all vanishing in a moment, as if they had never existed, leaving only cold embers.
Startled at the sudden darkness, Karsis froze, momentarily uncertain, consumed by that slight dread, panic, that sets in when one is unexpectedly plunged into darkness. Shadows filled the room, leaving only blackness and vague shapes. Karsis cursed softly and allowed his eyes a moment to adjust. When he thought he was able to distinguish the indistinct forms of his furniture, the man began to slowly make his way towards the door, fully intent on simply heading to his room and calling it a night.
Halfway there, he paused in confusion. The darkness in the room was very palpable but, all of a sudden, it took on a cloying, dense character, somehow sinister. It had been hard to see but now it felt as if the whole room had literally been swallowed by shadows. Karsis made another motion, as if to continue for the door and then froze, this time in absolute terror.
He was not alone.
Karsis jumped, feeling unseen eyes all around him, and was concentrating so hard on getting his eyes to adjust that he never saw the shadow detach itself from the wall. The Lord barely had time to turn, as the sound of a sword being drawn filled the room, followed quickly by Karsis’s harsh cry. Then there was an abrupt, chilling silence and, after, all was still.

2.

Alexandra Lee sat in the lonely hospital room, occupying the only chair and absently flipping through a magazine, barely registering the various articles about what star was dating which model or a particular star’s mental breakdown. The young woman did not notice the patient that occupied the room, nor did she really acknowledge Landen, who had been set to guard the room. She was actually staring out of the room’s only window, lost in thought, unconsciously fingering a slender braided chain of white and yellow gold around her neck from which dangled several rings. One was a matching wedding band set, a man and a woman’s, both genuine gold, with an intricate design of roses and thorny vines etched onto it. The other rings were part of another wedding set. The man’s was a large gold band with a small, rampant lion holding a rose engraved onto it and the woman’s was a modest, but exquisitely cut, imperial diamond with two small sapphires on either side of it on a white gold band. This attached to another white gold band imprinted with small alternating stars and crescent moons.
Charlie Hutton lay in the hospital bed next to her and watched her fingers fiddle with the rings, an amused smile on his face. The first degree burns and small lacerations on his face did not pain him very much, as he forced himself into a sitting position, though he did grimace once.
“Yer thinkin’ about ‘im, aren’t chya?” Charlie asked gently.
Alex jerked out of her trance like one pinched at the sound of his voice.
“Who?”
Charlie chuckled heartily.
“You know who I mean.”
Alex seemed about to deny it for a moment, to demand to know what he was talking about, then sighed and went back to staring out the window.
“Ah wanna help ‘im, Charlie.”
“Helpin’ ain’t the only thing on yer mind where that boy’s concerned.”
Al colored and gave the bartender a scathing look, as if she wouldn’t bother to dignify that with an answer. Charlie merely laughed.
“Don’ gimmie that!” he said, “You don’ fool me, Al. I’ve known you since you was just a punk kid, nineteen, without a hope or a prayer. You like that boy a Helluva lot more n’ you’ll admit.”
“He’s a client, Charlie,” Al replied, “It ain’t gonna happen.”
“How many times you said that in yer life?” the bartender rebutted gently, “’s how you wound up on my doorstep six years ago, if I recall.”
“An’ Ah was wrong den too! If Ah’d had de sense God gave a goat, Ah’d’ve jus’ sworn off men right den an’ dere!”
“Since when’s that ever stopped you?”
“Since Ah grew up, Charlie.”
Alex looked over at the bartender with such a sad look of wistful longing and heartbreak that it wrenched at Charlie’s heart to see it.
“Ah always thought love was de grandest thing on Earth. Dat was de thing dat made life worth livin’. What dey don’ tell you is love hurts, too. Life’s harsh an’ sometimes, love’s jus’ too delicate a thing t’survive.”
“I know yer grievin’, Kid. That don’t mean ya gotta give up.”
“Charlie, be realistic!” Alex shot, “Even if Dan and Ah were dat compatible, we’re from two different worlds. Literally. It wouldn’t work. ‘Sides, it’s bad form t’get involved with a client. Makes de business look bad.”
Attempting to change the subject, she added,
“De hospital called Kevan right after y’all were admitted. He should be here within a couple o’ hours.”
“I know my son’ll get here as soon as he can,” Charlie said, “Don’t try t’avoid this, Al. It ain’t healthy for ya.”
“Neither is leavin’ mah heart open f’one more loss, one more scar dat’ll never heal. Mah heart ain’t strong enough f’dis anymore, Charlie. Ah’ve got more important things t’worry about den de next person who’s gonna leave me cryin.’”
The bartender simply shook his head sadly.
“You can be more stubborn than Linn sometimes, an’ that’s sayin’ a lot,” he muttered softly.
“She sure can,” said a cheery voice from the doorway.
Both Charlie and Alex spun to see who the speaker was, then broke out in wide grins as two young women entered the room. The woman who had spoken was African American with pale, well cared for skin for that race, dark, luminous, chocolate brown eyes with long, soft lashes, and straight, thick, black hair that fell elegantly to just past her shoulder blades. She was five six and appeared to be in her early twenties with lush lips and soft cheekbones. Her long limbed figure was clad in a tight, black leather catsuit and her long, nimble hands were planted at her hips, a big grin on her face, as she regarded her best friend. She was beautiful and she knew it.
The woman who followed her was as sharp a contrast to her as could possibly be. Though they shared the same height and age, the resemblance and any similarity between them ended there. The other young woman was fair-skinned, pale as milk, with a spray of tiny freckles across her nose and cheeks, which were much more delicately formed than those of her companion. Her nose was also a bit smaller and straighter, almost haughty, but the woman did not carry herself with such an air. Her hair brushed just past her shoulders, hanging straight most of the way before springing into large, soft, yet wild curls, and was the vivid red/orange of an open flame. She wore a light blouse of palest, vivid blue that only served to bring out the blue in her unusual eyes, which were a startling, bright teal the color of deep Carribean water, and a simple, elegant navy blue skirt. Along with sensible pumps in a matching shade of navy, some light make up, and neutral colored pantyhose, she was a marked contrast to her more aggressively dressed cohort. While her companion had a lean, attractive, lithe, and athletic figure, this paler skinned person had more curvature and seemed more slender at first glance. She moved with an unconscious grace that the African American woman didn’t bother to imitate, eschewing that for a more free and light step. Both women broke out into delighted grins at the sight of Charlie and rushed over to see him.
“Hey, Charlie, howya doin’?” asked the darker skinned woman, giving him a light hug.
“Better,” he said, “I just wish these damn doctors’d leave me alone, though. What are you an’ Lyra up to today?”
“Comin’ here t’see you, of course!” the woman replied, then, turning to Alex, she grinned.
“Hey, Al! How’s it goin’? You manage t’spring that hot little number from jail yet?”
“Oh, please, y’all ain’t even met Dan an’ y’all’re already hittin’ on ‘im,” Al muttered, rolling her eyes.
The woman merely laughed.
“Looks like Sarah’s right,” she said, “This boy must be some pretty slick piece o’work t’have you all up in a huff like that.”
“Y’all’re dreamin’!” Al shot, irritated that she was being so easily read.
At her vehement protest, both women merely shot each other a look, then smiled, which only served to peak Alex’s ire more.
“Ah hate it when Sarah pulls this crap, Ah don’t need it from you too, Angie!”
The African American woman merely looked at her friend and laughed.
“Fine, we’ll play it your way,” she said, “We came t’tell you O’Brian an’ Landen been lookin’ fer the guys that did this but they ain’t found nothin’ yet. They playin’ it real cool too. I can’t get nothin’ out them boys ‘bout who they lookin’ for or nothin’.”
“So, ‘dere officially on de case, huh?” Alex prompted.
Angie nodded briefly.
“Not that they’re in a sharing mood or anything,” she scoffed.
“’Dat’s alright,” Al said, sighing, “We got our own investigation t’deal with an’ a client that need us.”
Angie’s cavalier smile returned.
“So, what he look like? He as hot as Sarah says he is?”
Alex gave her friend a scathing look to which Angie replied,
“Please, girlfriend, I know you better than that! Is he a hottie or what?”
Reluctantly, Al’s face softened a bit into a smile and she nodded. The woman then proceeded to recall all of the events that had transpired, including Dan’s handsomeness, agility, and general demeanor, all the while being vehement in her denial that she had any interest in the stranded elf beyond normal human sympathy for his plight and compassion.
Landen, sitting near the door, caught some of the conversation and smiled, rolling his eyes, and went back to reading his comic. He glanced up briefly from his newspaper, then paused, as he saw a group of individuals heading towards the nurse’s station at the end of the hall. Keeping himself calm, unassuming, and as alert as possible, Landen fingered the walkie talkie at his side and prepared to call for reinforcements.
The group of people paused briefly at the station. The nurse on duty greeted them with a polite smile then shook her head, politely but firmly, at something one of the men said. Something angry seemed to come from the individual she was talking to and the nurse frowned, her face deepening rapidly towards a scowl. Suddenly, and violently, one of the younger men in the group pushed his way rudely past the young nurse, striding with arrogant confidence towards Charlie’s room. The nurse squawked indignantly as the people pushed past and rushed to the phone at her station, trying to get word to the hospital security.
Landen, meanwhile, simply pushed the button on his walkie and radioed for backup.
“Stevens, you’d better call reinforcements now,” he said softly, “An’ get yer ass over here. We got ourselves a situation.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and assumed an incorrigible smile not a moment before the angry mob of people was standing right before him.
“Somethin’ I can help you guys with?” he asked jovially, his cocky grin in overtime.
“You can move out of our way,” the leader replied nastily.
“Sorry, pardner, no can do,” Landen said jauntily, “Care t’try again?”
“Get out of our way!” another yelled.
“Not gonna happen.”
“You just gonna stand there and protect that freak lover?” a woman out of the crowd yelled and Landen froze.
All of the good humor leeched out of his face and he fixed the speaker and her crowd with a look so cold they all nearly turned and fled right then.
“That “freak lover” happens t’be a friend o’ mine,” Landen said icily, any traces of humor completely gone, “He’s a good man an’ if you punks wanna make an issue out of it, be my guest. Wouldn’t recommend it, though.”
Subtly, the detective reached down and displayed his gun and badge, fixing each and every one of the people in the crowd in turn with his level gaze.
“Now pay attention, people, ‘cuz I’m only gonna say this once,” he said, “This badge and this gun mean if you try anything stupid, you’ll be goin’ t’jail for assaulting an officer. I’m not joking an’ I don’t give second chances. You walk or you pay. Simple as that.”
“How can you defend someone who harbors those abominations?” a young lady from the crowd demanded.
“’Cause those abominations ye be talkin’ about’re human too,” came a reply from the other side of the door.
Landen smiled at the sound of the think Scotch/Irish brogue and relaxed a little as Lyra came to stand beside him. The redhead’s face was a dark storm cloud of fury and she folded her arms, glowering at the angry mob.
“They don’t look human t’me, lady!” one of the men shouted and was immediately quieted by the look of pure disgust on the woman’s face.
“I don’t know ‘bout you, girlfriend, but that sound like an insult t’me,” Angie called, coming to stand beside Lyra.
“Yeah, tell me ‘bout it,” Alexandra said, joining the group as well, “Ah always thought we all looked pretty normal. If Ah was y’all, Ah’d be pretty pissed.”
The smile that had been growing on Landen’s face grew in proportion to the smirk on Alex’s as he saw all three women barricading the door to Charlie’s room and folding their arms. They meant business and Landen could only hope the crowd realized they meant it.
“You ladies packin’?” the officer asked casually.
“Always,” Angie replied, “A girl can’t be too careful nowadays.”
“Permits and licenses?”
“Good t’go, sugah,” Al responded, smooth as honey, “You jus’ give de word an’ we back you up.”
“Cool, lock an’ load, ladies,” Landen replied.
All three women made a very nice display of cocking their weapons and placing them back in their holsters, each with their own little flourish, and Landen glanced back at the crowd, smiling.
“Let me break this down for you,” he said, “These ladies’re fully armed detectives. They aren’t police but they have licenses, permits, an’ my permission t’shoot the first one o’ you stupid enough t’try an’ hurt our buddy in there. Go home. Now.”
“You freak lovers too?” a man in the crowd demanded incredulously, looking Alex, Angie, and Lyra up and down.
“Honey, we are the freaks,” Alexandra said sunnily, “Now be a good boy an’ do what dis nice officer tells ya.”
Landen suppressed a groan as an angry mutter went through the crowd and hunkered down, ready in case the crowd decided to rush them. Suddenly, from around the corner, a small group of men in suits with sunglasses and badges came striding around the corner, purposeful looks on their faces and guns drawn. They strode up through the crowd and the mob parted like water around them, as if uncertain of what to do next. The leader of the crew, a stern looking man in a charcoal gray suit strode up to Landen and presented his badge.
“Agent Smith, FBI,” he said, “Backup is on the way and we have the situation under control. This is now our jurisdiction and anyone not complying with our wishes will wish they had never been born.”
Landen didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. As much as he hated the Feds, at least their timing was impeccable. Before he could express any kind of gratitude or complaint, however, the young man identifying himself as an agent turned and raised his arm, pointing something at Landen. There was a loud, sharp bang and Landen gasped, as fierce pain exploded in his chest. He barely heard the girls scream or saw the small trickle of blood that was pouring down. He simply slumped to the floor in an unmoving heap, as the man who had shot him glanced over at the women, cold and calculating as he tried to size them up.
Alex never even thought to reach for her guns. She just leapt for the gunman without thinking, her body instantly going into takedown mode. Launching herself into him with all her weight, she rode the assailant hard to the ground and pinned him as fast as she could. Turning her head only slightly, she called back to the girls,
“Plastic gun,” she said, “Be careful. Dere might be more o’dem!”
Gripping the man’s arms, Alex began to attempt to manuver the man beneath her into an arm bar to prevent him from getting up. To her surprise, the man struggled and wriggled like a snake, nearly bucking her off, as he strained to reach his hands down into the pockets at his sides. Al wrestled with the man viciously, trying to gain the upper hand and prevent him from drawing a weapon but he was just too strong and too determined. In a quick flash of motion, his hand came up, slicing towards Al’s neck, and the Latina reached out just in time to grip his wrist and twist it painfully before the blade in his hand could connect with her throat. The knife was oddly shaped and didn’t shine the way a normal blade would. As Al battled to remove it from the attacker’s hand, he made a sudden lurch and the woman was pitched forward onto the floor.
In a heartbeat, the man was on top of Alex, pinning her down and the woman snapped her arms up, barely stopping the crude blade as it came down towards her. The knife was balanced inches above her face and Alex groaned with the effort of keeping the man at bay. There was suddenly a loud explosion that seemed to rock the whole floor and the other two Sirens, Lyra and Angie, paused, where they had been about to engage the other members of the mob, startled. The man straining above Al grinned, teeth shining, in a cold, hard smirk, as he looked down at her.
“That’s the signal,” he called, “Tear them apart!”
Alex’s eyes grew wide as she saw the mob arm itself with knives, guns, scalpels, and surgery implements from out of nowhere, chrome, steel, ceramic, and plastic all coming to bear with deadly force. Lyra and Angie drew their guns and assumed a guard position around Landen, while Alex frantically clawed at her assailant. The man, however, just grinned down at her.
“You’re finished, freak!”
“Ah think not,” Al replied silkily.
With all her strength, the detective brought her knee up hard into the attacker’s groin and pressed up with all her might. The man above her yelped and Alex’s fist flew into his jaw, as he dropped off to the side, collapsing into a little ball. Al shoved him as far away from her as possible and kipped up onto her feet with blinding speed and drew both her pistols, a pair of silver plated Browning Louis IVX models, from their thigh holsters. Aiming high and weapons in hand, Alex charged into the fight, spinning hard into a whirling round kick that sent a man careening into the nearest wall. He hit his head hard enough to make a small dent in the wall and collapsed, sinking to the floor, as Al rejoined her companions.
“Divide and conquer, girls, y’all know the drill,” Al said softly and the other two women nodded, each picking out their targets.
The first man that came rushing at Al with a scalpel received a vicious kick to the face and the woman immediately noticed that the quarters were getting a bit too close to try using guns. Someone was going to get hurt. With a quick, practiced flip, Al’s guns were holstered again, safety locked, and she had a hold of her attacker’s arm. She wrenched once, viciously, and felt his elbow give way as he screamed in pain.
Lyra and Angie both fought viciously, kicking, clawing, and punching at their assailants, though Lyra was somewhat hampered by her heels, which she quickly used to crack an opponent over the head, continuing the fight barefoot. Alex meanwhile, was finally able to corner the man who had started the whole brawl. She faced him squarely but he turned tail and ran, giving her an impudent grin as he did so.
Cursing viciously in Spanish, Alexandra gave chase, barreling up the stairs after the perpetrator. He was very nimble and agile of foot but Alex spent at least two days a week jogging and one day a week running up and down stairs at the local stadium. She was able to gain on him quickly and caught up with him just as he shot out of a door at the top of the stairs and onto the smoker’s balcony. The open air, bright light, noise, and blue sky was a jolt to the system after the sterile quiet of the hospital but the recovery was swift.
Alex wasted no time in leaping madly at him, knocking him flat to the ground and coming down hard with her fist. The man blocked the shot but just barely. He was winded from the running and starting to show the strain. He put all his strength into one final heave and Alex tumbled off him just far enough that he staggered to his feet. He was swaying and unable to focus but he was upright. Alex brought him down with a quick kick to the face and threw him roughly on his back, pinning his arms behind him.
As she finally wrestled the last of his resistance from him, the door to the smoker’s balcony crashed open and Lyra, Angie, and about five officers came spilling out. Lyra was favoring her left leg a little from the rush up the stairs and Angie appeared to have a tear in the sleeves of her catsuit but they were both fine and looked over at Al concerned.
“You alright?” Angie called.
“Fine,” Alex said, as the officers came forward to read her attacker his rights and handcuff him, “Everything alright?”
“We got ‘em all,” Angie replied, “The officers showed up just in time. Landen’s in bad shape but they got ‘em sedated and the doc’s lookin’ at ‘em right now. We should know soon what’s goin’ on.”
“Any word on who dey are or how dey did this?” Alex asked.
“Nae,” Lyra said, shaking her head, “but me cousin’s in trouble! I heard the officer’s talkin’. Linn’s place’s under attack! O’Brian’s on his way there now!”
Alex’s eyes grew wide in panic.
“Dan and Sarah are there, too!” she gasped, “You an’ Angie help the police guard Landen an’ Charlie ‘til this’s all sorted out. Ah gotta go help them!”
“but Al!-” Lyra gasped.
Before they could say a word, Alexandra had already turned and rushed for the edge of the balcony. The officers saw what she intended and tried to stop her but the woman leapt nimbly over the edge, like an eagle taking flight, and plunged into the air seven stories above the ground. Angie just put out a hand to stop them and smiled, as she saw Alex swoop up and soar like a bird, without the aid of wings or props, and blast off into the air, literally flying as smoothly as a jet plane. The officers all stared openly, unprepared for the sight of the mutant flying away and when they glanced over at Angie, she just shrugged.
“That’s our Al for ya.”

3.

Danthias came to quicker than he had expected. Blinking, he was on his feet in a moment and glanced around, cautiously sizing up the situation. The fight had only progressed slightly and he could see that Sarah Lee was standing in front of him, viciously fending off any attackers that would have jumped him while he was unconscious. Cammo man was several paces away, nursing what looked like a compound fracture in his arm.
“Nice work,” Dan commented, readying his bow.
“It is the least he deserved,” Sarah replied, not taking her eyes off her current opponent and not even breaking a sweat as she sent a vicious kick to his ribs, “Are you alright?”
“My throat feels like it’s on fire but I’ll be fine,” he said, releasing an arrow that connected solidly with Cammo Man’s foot and sent him screaming curses to the ground.
Suddenly, there came a violent scream from the house and, as Dan’s head whipped around in that direction, Linnelle’s face paled.
“Jenny!” she gasped.
The trio looked up to see the front door of the house wide open and a young man in fatigues dragging Jennifer, screaming and struggling, from the house with a gun pressed to her head. Dan’s eyes narrowed down in anger and Linn snarled like a cat, shoving all her current opponents away in a bid to reach her step-sister.
“You let her go,” Linn hissed, “or I’ll be makin’ ye sorry ye were ever born!”
“One move and she’s dead,” the man responded, clicking back the hammer.
Linnelle, Dan, and Sarah all froze, each carefully considering the situation. After a moment, they all slowly began to disarm, too concerned for Jenny’s welfare to really care about the outcome of the fight. Before they could even make a move or decide, for sure, what course of action to take next, a golden blonde colored streak shot out from the open door, tearing across the lawn to where Jenny was being held captive. As the group watched on, stunned, Max leapt at the man who was holding Jenny and attached himself to the man’s arm, chomping down and snarling for all he was worth. The man quickly let go of Jennifer and reached around, attempting to get a good angle for a shot at the dog. Max twisted and jerked, putting more pressure on the man’s wound to make it harder for him, while Jenny frantically scrambled around in her pockets. The blonde quickly came out with a small, black device in her hand and pressed it directly into the back of the man’s neck. Dan could smell a flash of ozone and saw a small blue arc hit the man squarely. The man screamed once, then dropped at Jenny’s feet like a stone hitting water. The blonde gave everyone the quick thumb’s up, then grinned. Max yipped a little, as a small bit of the electricity jumped to him as well, then settled by Jenny’s side, ready for anything.
Danthias was about to suggest the blonde move out of the line of fire when another camoflage dressed assailant suddenly grafted onto Jenny from behind, several of his friends moving up to back him. Jennifer wriggled and jerked, screaming, as she tried to get loose. Three things happened then in a blinding flash. Sarah leapt forward, aiming one of the most vicious jump kicks Dan had ever seen straight at the head of the man holding Jenny, Danthias himself sent an arrow straight into the leg of the man right behind the leader, and Linnelle triggered her wards.
The elf had seen magic countless times on his world, watched priestesses, clerics, paladins, mages, druids, and sorcerers of all kinds weave their spells and incantations but he had never seen anything like what Linn Cassidy did then. There was no command word spoken, no rite, no chanting, and no flashy display of power. The woman simply closed her eyes for a moment and Dan felt a tingle start up his spine, the kind of thing meant to raise hair on the back of the neck. The air became thick and heavy, hard to breathe, as the witch focused her will.
The attackers all of a sudden paled, as if they had seen a ghost, or taken suddenly ill, each one obviously struggling violently to remain upright and in control of their own faculties. Some of them had taken on a decidedly greenish hue and Linn smiled at them almost sweetly, a look of pure venom in her eyes.
“Ye should nae ‘ave come here,” she said softly, “an’ ye should know better than t’threaten a witch an’ her kin in their own home!”
Then, in a violent surge of motion, Linn dropped into a crouch and placed her hands upon the earth. Danthias had seen a circle of protection many times but never expected to see one actually manifest on Earth. It was like blue waves of electricity just suddenly formed around Linn, arcing out in a fifty foot radius from where she knelt, pelting back anyone the Fae witch did not want near her. The power actually bled over into the visible spectrum, a bright, almost white, blue as Linn’s will and power gathered. Then, with a cry that could put fear into the heart of any sane man, the woman let loose her will and a bright streak of pure, vibrant green energy shot from where she knelt. The earth itself trembled, shaking violently and rocking to and fro, the mini earthquake surging outward toward Linn’s enemies. As Danthias watched her, the woman’s aura bled over into the visible spectrum, the same green as the grass and earth at her feet. Her eyes were glowing like twin jade jewels and it seemed as though moonlight had been thrust under her pale skin. Her blood red hair billowed around her like rubies and garnets tossed carelessly in the wind and when she spoke, it was with a power that Danthias knew and feared, that of the true Fae.
“Attackin’ one o’ the Tuatha de Danu is folly,” she hissed, “Ye fools should well have remembered that.”
The men and women who were left trembled and whimpered, as the very earth at their feet seemed to rise up to thwart them and vines of clinging ivy, seemingly from out of nowhere, rose to entangle their legs and hamper their arms in a vise-like grip. Several tried to struggle to no avail and Dan could smell fear and defeat emanating off of them in waves. The heart had gone straight out of them. The elf turned to congratulate Linn, then stopped in mid-motion, as the sound of marching feet reached his overly keen ears.
Following the sound, the elf jerked towards a little used side street that let out onto Linn’s avenue and stared, as what appeared to be nearly thirty armed men and women marched straight out of the alley and directly towards Linnelle’s house. They were all dressed similarly to Cammo Man and the elf mentally cursed himself for celebrating too soon. Before the Dwarven curse on his lips could actually vocalize itself, however, there were fully automatic rifles and machine guns pointed at the four defenders and, while Danthias was not familiar with guns, hating them as a rule, he knew when numbers simply overwhelmed all odds. Very slowly putting his hands into the air and cursing again at his own helplessness, Dan prepared himself for the worst.
The elf quickly began plotting various escape scenarios in his head but none of them looked pretty. Just when he was about to go into one of his more desperate idea modes, a large gout of fire erupted from the sky, seeming to split the ground at the feet of the invaders. The orderly assailants quailed and faltered, as the first rush of heat and searing flame rushed up to meet them. Dan glanced quickly at the sky and smiled at what he saw.
Alexandra Lee was flying, hovering above the enemies in mid-air, flames still dancing about her fingertips as she grinned down at her enemies.
“Now, now, y’all play nice!” she tsked, reaching her hand back and actually lobbing a small ball of flame directly into the center of the crowd.
Several of the mob screamed in panic and ducked out of the way, as the sound of sirens filled the air. Grinning the Southern belle looked back at Dan and winked.
“The cavalry has arrived,” she chimed merrily.
“Ye’re lucky it won’t take long fer me t’regrow that grass!” Linn shouted up, “I’d make ye pay t’replant it if me magic weren’t enough t’do the trick!”
Not taking their eyes off the threat that remained, Dan, Al, Linn, Jenny, and Sarah all assumed what they hoped were impressive poses, as red and blue flashing lights suddenly surrounded the house. Out of nowhere, policemen appeared, lead by a dark skinned woman in a black catsuit and a red head that looked eerily like Linn. In a sudden fevered rush, all the criminals who had gathered instantly scattered to the four winds as fast as they could. One man tossed a smoke grenade and was followed by several others, until the lawn of Linn’s house was a Fae twilight of mist. Try as they might, the police were only able to catch one or two suspects, as they began to disappear into the fog, melting away as if they had never been.
As the police were wrapping up booking those criminals they had been able to catch, the two unfamiliar women sauntered up to Al, big grins on their faces.
“Nice exit there, Al, we almost couldn’t catch ya,” the dark skinned woman quipped and Alex broke out into a big grin.
Seeing both women eying Dan curiously, Alex took the opportunity to very quickly introduce him. The African American woman with the diamond eyes and thousand dollar grin was Angela Hawk and the woman who looked eerily like Linn turned out to be her cousin, Lyra Kelley. At first, Dan could see why he had mistaken her for Linn at a distance but then noted all the differences there were in appearance. Lyra was only five six, a full inch shorter than her cousin, though you couldn’t tell it with her heels on. Her hair was much shorter, barely shoulder length, and a much paler, more natural shade of red and her curls were somewhat looser. Her eyes were slightly thinner and had a slight blue tinge to them, her lips were paler and somewhat thinner, and she had that spray of freckles across her face. She also appeared smaller, more demure in build, demeanor, and stature. She had long, manicured nails, and dressed in skirts, like a professional businesswoman, unlike Linn in her tunic style shirt and pants. Lyra also seemed much more softspoken and more ladylike and her brogue had more of a Scottish lilt to it than an Irish.
Danthias spent several moments chatting with the two women, as the blaring sirens that announced the arrival of the EMT’s commenced. Despite his horrible protests, Alex, Sarah, and Linn all wrangled Dan into letting the med-techs examine him. When he and all his friends were given the all clear, the weretiger, sighed, stretched and turned to Sarah, who was just heading his way from a conversation with Linn and Jenny.
“Looks like the fun’s over,” he commented casually.
Sarah fixed the elf with a penetrating, fathomless stare that said she was seeing things the lycanthrope could not even hope to comprehend. Her face pulled itself into a sad, knowing smile and she shook her head gently.
“No, Danthias, you are wrong,” the telepath said softly, “I think this has all just begun.”

4.

- New Orleans -

The sounds of Ella Fritzgerald drifted softly through the air, the queen of scat just doing her thing, as the vampire lounged lazily by his computer. Old and technophobic as he was, the man had to admit that some of these modern conveniences were damned useful.
He glanced indolently at the screen, only half paying attention to the data flitting across, blue eyes half closed and crooning along with Ella, tapping away at his keyboard. Then he suddenly stopped mid-verse and sat straight up, staring, unbelieving, at what he saw. The vampire blinked twice, rubbing his eyes, then stared intently to confirm what it was he was reading. After several moments of confirming current reports and double checking his information, he reached for the phone next to his computer and hit a single button. The other end was picked up after only one ring.
“Get the boss. Now.”
He hung up as soon as his terse message was delivered and went back to his data, feverishly making sure that he had not erred somehow. Within moments, the vampire felt the unnatural presence of another, much more powerful, vampire fill the room. The younger vamp cringed, moaned, and shuddered violently at the approach of his Master, as a profound unease settled over him, a foul miasma that stole his breath and his will, like a weight on his chest. The Master of the City had arrived. As he struggled to recompose himself, the elder vampire glided into the room on silent cat feet, radiating all the stillness and death that five centuries of undeath could grant.
“What is it, Edward?” the elder vamp demanded, smooth, scathing, cultured French tones like a whip, “Nicolette was rather upset about your rude summons. This had better be good.”
“Nicolette can be as snippy as she wants,” Edward said casually, stifling down the urge to remind his boss to call him Zane, his chosen moniker, “I’ve found her, Master.”
The elder vampire went deathly still, the way only the really old vampires could and regarded Zane intensely, his gaze a veritable dagger. The younger vampire squirmed and writhed uncomfortably under that gaze. Every vampire in the city owed this man fealty, especially those that had been Sired by him, and he was the type to make sure his presence was felt. It certainly didn’t help that Zane felt like a country cousin standing next to him. With his bare feet, faded, ripped jeans, wrinkled and sloppy white button up shirt, and wild, short, black hair, he knew he didn’t even rate in the same category with his Master, yet it still ticked Zane off to no end that the SOB could come storming into his lab and pull this whenever he wanted.
“Are you certain?” was the Master’s only response.
Zane nodded, knowing full well what would happen if he should lie to his boss.
“She’s still in New York, like you thought,” the younger vamp said, “We widened the search to fit the perameters you suggested and set surveillance in motion. She’s used several aliases over the years but all her important information is registered under her real name. Everything is going almost exactly as you predicted it.”
The older vampire did not waste a moment. With a curt nod of his head, he spun on his heels and headed for the door. He paused only once to call out to Zane over his shoulder.
“Have Nicolette prepare my private jet,” he said, “She won’t be escaping this time.”

5.

Lady de Wynter sat in her favorite chair, gazing out at the star strewn night, her mind far away, pondering the events of the day and how close she had come to the headsman’s block. It felt good just to revel in her freedom and know that she had somehow managed to avoid that fate. It was not long before her thoughts were interrupted by a polite knock, one authoritative rap, and then silence. A small smile etched its way into the Lady’s features.
“Come,” she called simply.
The door swung open noiselessly and a large, lithe figure made its way into the room, closing the door behind them. The man padded silently over to where the Lady sat and stood by her side at attention, patiently waiting to be acknowledged.
“Is it done?” Anya asked.
“Aye, Milady,” came the reply, short and to the point.
“Andarius, I do hope you haven’t been up to anything illegal,” the priestess scolded teasingly.
“Nothing that will hold up in court,” came the modest reply.
“I am still somewhat amazed that you managed to sway the jury the way you did,” the Lady commented, “That was brilliant, even for you.”
“My Lady is too kind,” Andarius said, bowing his head a little, “I merely did what had to be done. You would be surprised how far a few veiled threats and a little bit of money can go in this city. Seems a few of the jurors feared for their family’s lives and would rather take a bribe than risk being visited by you or I.”
“Imagine that,” Anya murmured, a slow smile spreading across her face.
For a moment, she simply allowed herself to bask in the freedom that she had so newly acquired and then she stood.
“Have you alerted those of your Order, as I requested?” she asked.
“Yes, Milady,” he said, “They await only your command.”
“Good, I need them and as many others as will come at the next esbat,” Anya replied, “I sense that something very monumental is about to happen and I want to be ready in case that something isn’t what I hope it is.”
Andarius bowed shortly.
“It shall be done, Milady.”
Satisfied with his response, the Lady stared out into the dark night for a moment more, then turned back to her grim companion.
“Come, Andarius,” she said, “There is much to be done.”
Andarius inclined his head in acquiescence and fell wordlessly in behind the Lady as she exited the room. Behind them, there was nothing but shadow and the boom of distant thunder, a deadly storm on the horizon.