by Carol Roi
For being so close to the Christmas holiday, there aren't many people out shopping in this weather. Can't say I blame them, not after hearing the weather forecast: rain, with possible thunderstorms, turning to sleet later this evening and snow after midnight. I'm making a large purchase on my platinum American Express card, when my early warning system sends a shock up my spine. Immortal! Handing the credit slip back to the clerk, I grab the bag with the warm-up suits for Jan-Michel and myself and turn around, trying to locate the cause of my unease.
Damn, it could be any of the people I see milling about the casual wear section of the sporting goods shop. The young woman by the bowling shirts, the younger man across the way by the camping goods, the middle aged man by the all-weather gear... I can't pin it down. Seeing my 'bodyguard' is yawning, I decide to have pity on him and to get away from the unidentified Immortal who is bothering me.
"Okay, I'm all done, David. Well, almost. Remember that nice little tea shop we passed on the way here? I want to stop in there before heading back to the hotel."
"Okay. It's only a few blocks from here and we have to walk that way to get back to the car." He insists on carrying my bag for me, and we only stop once on our way to the tea shop - to pick up the dagger I had left with the store security people. As I have done all evening, I 'accidentally' carry the dagger through the metal detectors on my way out, cringe and apologize to the harried guards while David throws me an exasperated look. Poor kid, he is probably thinking after six such 'accidents' I should remember not to do that. If only he knew.
The rain has slowed to a heavy mist, but the lightning and thunder has picked up again, heralding more activity from the storm front that is slowly pushing into the area. David is leading the way, taking me through an alleyway that he swears is a short cut to the tea shop and the car, when the tingling buzz of an Immortal coincides with his grunt of pain as he falls to the ground.
"David!" I rush over to the fallen man, only to find blood pouring from a fatal wound to his heart. He's alive,though barely, and I reach into the bag he dropped to grab out a tee shirt to press against his chest.
"Surprise! We meet again." The chillingly familiar voice comes from the fire escape above me and I rise to my feet as I pull my sword. A young, light-haired man drops to the pavement in front of me. "Happy to see me?"
Damn, it's the thief from QuestScape, only I can't see his eyes behind the dark glasses he's wearing. Sunglasses after nightfall, for gods sake, what is the man thinking? "Not really."
Oh, shit!
I barely manage to dodge the bullet that is sent my way when he pulls a gun and not a sword from behind his back. This Immortal doesn't intend to fight fair, just like he didn't back in the lab. I start to run, blindly dodging more rounds pumping from the silencer equipped handgun, praying none of them hit me. I'm ducking behind a large trash bin when the report of a .45 caliber handgun splits the air along with a scream of rage. Peeking out around the bin, I see the rogue is down, apparently by David's hand, as I see my bodyguard's arm drop back to his side, gun in hand.
Knowing an Immortal can recover quickly, I decide to run again; I've got to lose him. He's nothing more than a headhunter, willing to do whatever it takes to get my head, up to and including unscrupulous methods of 'killing' before beheading his intended victim. Sheathing my sword as I run, I manage to clear the alleyway, seeing the tea shop across the street. Starting toward it, I collide with someone who grabs me and swings me away from the mouth of the alley. I scream.
A loud rumble of thunder woke Megan. She rolled over, pulling the covers over her head. She'd just gone to bed. It couldn't be time to get up yet. She lay there for a few minutes, listening to the sound of the rain against the windowpane, and the continuing roar of thunder.
The smell of brewing coffee tickled her nostrils. Who would be making coffee at her place? She couldn't remember bringing anyone home with her last night. She sat up with a groan, and, taking in her surroundings, realized she had crashed in Blair's room at Jim's loft. She rubbed her eyes. She'd been too tired to drive back to her place on the opposite side of Cascade, so she'd ridden home with Ellison, deciding to stay at his place rather than Dee's guest room to give the lovebirds some privacy. It was the start of the teachers' winter vacation, after all.
Yawning, she got to her feet and padded out to the kitchen after grabbing some clean clothes from the overnight bag she kept stashed at Dee's. She gave Jim a wave at his "Morning, Connor," and headed for the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would wash the cobwebs from her mind. When she came back, dressed in track pants and a T-shirt, he handed her a cup of black coffee and pulled out a chair at the table for her. She took the offered seat, raising an eyebrow at him. "What's all this, Jim? Aren't Blair and Dee joining us?"
He walked back into the kitchen and returned with two plates heaped with bacon and scrambled eggs. "They've been up for a couple hours and are still going at it." He set a plate in front of her then sat at the end of the table.
Megan nearly spit her coffee over him. "They're what? Jim, I never realized you were such a voyeur."
The detective laughed. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I meant they're still working out. They came over and grabbed some coffee earlier, said I was welcome to join them." He stuck a forkful of eggs in his mouth and shook his head. "Not on my day off, thanks. Besides, I get the crap kicked out of me enough on the job as it is. I'm beginning to think Sandburg's a closet masochist."
She giggled. "Oh come on, Jimbo, I'm sure there's a thing or two Diandra could teach you. Like how to keep hold of your gun." His only response was a glare. "She's been teaching me sword work. In fact, we were supposed to work together this morning."
"Well, go on over when you're done. Don't feel you have to stick around on my account." He took a sip from his coffee and opened a folder lying next to his plate.
Chewing a bite of toast, she was silent for a few moments then she became curious about what Jim was studying so intently. "What's that?"
He glanced up at her, blinking. "Hmm? Oh, this? Just the info from last night. I can't help feeling there was more going on than we were told, only I'm not sure who was lying, Ms. Eolia, or Ventriss."
"Did you read the bit from the Seattle PD? That certainly set off some bells for me, but I haven't had a chance to question Dee yet."
Jim flipped through the pages until he got to the Seattle info. "You think this is connected to the murder of her husband?"
"Um, no. Actually I was wondering if we aren't dealing with something a little out of our jurisdiction, so to speak." She leaned back in her chair, watching to see if he caught her drift.
"Are you thinking her husband, this Azir el Sadih, was Immortal?"
The woman shrugged. "I don't know. Beheading is not your usual murder method, though he was shot first. I was going to ask Dee if she knew him."
Jim skimmed the single page. "There's not really enough here to make a guess as to whether he was or not. We'd have to see the crime scene and autopsy reports to know for sure. And I'm not convinced there's a tie in to last night. This whole thing might be Ventriss trying to pull a fast one." Closing the folder, he said, "Say Ventriss is working on something top secret, something valuable, but it's not working out, and he has to answer to his stockholders. But then that something conveniently goes missing, and he can blame the loss on a thief and write it off, thereby never have to take responsibility for his screw-up."
"Sounds reasonable to me. Still, there are some things about last night that really bug me. According to the security guard, he locked off the elevators when the alarm went off, and headed up the stairs to investigate, meeting no one on the way. If Ms. Eolia didn't use the stairs to get out, how the hell did she get outside? Jump out the window? That's a four-story fall, Jim. Most people jumping out a four-story window just go 'splat,' they don't walk away and assault a police officer a few minutes later."
"Maybe she climbed down a tree. There are plenty in the area." He attacked his e
ggs again.
"What if she's Immortal? And her husband was too?" Megan leaned across the table eagerly.
Jim shrugged. "If she is, Diandra would know, and so would Sandburg. But even if they were, I don't see what bearing it would have on the case. Whoever the real thief was, if there even was one, their weapon of choice was a shotgun, not a sword. It's entirely possible there was nothing there to steal in the first place."
Megan went back to eating her breakfast, or rather brunch, judging by the time on the clock, but she still wasn't satisfied there was no Immortal activity involved. She was definitely going to ask Dee if she knew of Azir el Sadih.
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Jim looked up from the sink full of dishwater as Blair entered the loft, Dee tagging along behind. Spying Megan with dishtowel in hand, she said, "Come on, Pajara. I've come to rescue you from this den of domesticity and take you away to a world where a woman is only as good as her skill with a blade."
The Aussie tossed the towel at Jim and headed for the door. "My savior! I thought you would never arrive!" Grinning, she followed the other woman out the door.
Blair wandered through the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, he downed about half the bottle in one long swallow, then grabbed the dishtowel from its landing place on Jim's shoulder and wiped his face off. "Man, am I going to hurt tomorrow. But I feel great now. Endorphin rush," he explained.
The sentinel looked his partner up and down, taking in the damp patches on his tank top, and the sheen of sweat covering his bare arms. When in the hell had Sandburg developed biceps? For that matter, when had the rest of him gotten so…buff was the only word Jim could come up with. He realized he rarely saw the grad student with anything less than three layers of shirts. The night before didn't count, as Jim was so embarrassed to have interrupted the lovers that he had been looking anywhere but at his naked guide. Not that Sandburg's physical condition really mattered, it was just surprising Jim had missed the change. He wondered what other things he might have missed. He shook himself as he realized Blair was speaking to him.
"So, Jim, have you and Megan been getting along?"
"Hmm, yeah, just fine. We were discussing last night's robbery." He frowned slightly as he heard his guide's heart rate jump. "Sorry, Chief, I know that scene with Ventriss upset you. I should have warned you we asked him to come in."
Blair shook his head, the wisps of hair that had escaped from his ponytail during his workout flying. "No, no, it's okay, man. It just startled me, that's all. I didn't ever expect to see him again, you know, and that wasn't really the reaction I was expecting, though I can understand it."
"Brad's death wasn't your fault."
Leaning against the counter, Blair gave his partner a grin. "I know. Dee told me the same thing last night. I'm cool."
Jim eyed him, looking for any sign his partner was uncomfortable with the situation. He found none. "You know, as long as you have that dish towel, you might put it to good use."
"Sure, man." Picking a plate out of the dish drainer, he began to dry it.
Jim approached his next question in a roundabout way. "Are you okay enough with the Ventriss angle to help me out with this case?"
"Of course I am. What, you think I'm going to lose my cool?"
Jim gave his friend a wide grin. "It's been known to happen." Blair bumped shoulders with him, jostling him away from the sink. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Go take a look at the case file; it's on the table."
Blair threw the towel at him, smacking Jim in the back of the head. He ignored the sentinel's grumbles about inconsiderate and ungrateful guides and companions, and got his glasses from his room before sitting down and opening the file. Twenty minutes later he looked over at Jim, who, having finished the dishes, had moved to the couch, and was now flipping through the TV channels with the sound off.
"Okay, I read it. Now what?"
Jim grunted, but didn't look up, then casually asked, "Did you read the report from Seattle?"
"Yeah, and I'm confused. What does her husband's murder got to do with anything?"
"I'm not sure, but the murder method got my interest. What do you think?" He still hadn't turned around to look at Blair, but he heard his heart rate pick up once again.
"You're thinking this el Sadih guy was Immortal, aren't you?"
"It's a possibility. I thought maybe you might know if he was or not. Or you could find out."
Sighing, Blair rose and crossed the room to drop on the sofa next to Jim. "I can't do that, man. You know that."
Ellison clicked the TV off and turned slightly to face his guide. "Why not?"
Reaching up, Blair pulled the tie out of his hair then combed his fingers through the sweat-dampened strands. "Because I took an oath, Jim, an oath to observe, record, and protect the secret of Immortals' existence. You're not a Watcher. I am. I can't tell you anything, even if I knew anything. Which I don't, and I have no intention of trying to find anything out."
"Sandburg--" the sentinel growled.
"No. The answer is no. Look, Jim, how much trust would you have in me if I told every guy who asked about your senses? That's right, none. I'm not going to betray the trust the Watchers, and by extension, Immortals, have in me. Besides, there's nothing in that file to indicate Lee Eolia's husband's death had anything to do with the robbery, or should I say incident, last night. We really don't know if there was a robbery or not. We only have Ventriss' word anything was stolen. And there's enough crime in Cascade that you don't need to be doing the Seattle PD's work, too. Let them find his killer. " Blair got to his feet. "I'm going to take a shower."
"But, Chief--"Jim began.
"No. I'm not going to compromise my principles just to satisfy your morbid curiosity. This conversation is over; do not ask me again."
The sentinel stared after his guide as he stalked into the bathroom. For a moment, he was irritated, almost angry, at Blair. Then he smiled. He'd always known Blair was a man of integrity; he shouldn't have expected him to betray his promise, even for Jim.
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"And again!" Dee's voice echoed in the open space of the studio.
Megan brought the practice katana up and began the pattern again, steel ringing against steel as Diandra's blade parried each stroke. She had been looking forward to learning the art of the Japanese sword from the Immortal, but now she wasn't so sure. She had taken a couple of fencing courses at university in Sydney, and had gotten pretty good with a saber. But that had not really prepared her for the long, heavy, two-handed blade that was the katana. Her shoulders ached from the effort to simply hold the sword aloft, let alone move it through the complex pattern Dee had shown her. The heavy padding she was wearing wasn't helping any either. She understood the reason behind it, as well as the facemask. She wasn't immortal, and even a practice blade without an edge could do serious damage, but she was hot and tired, and sweat was running into her eyes. She brought the sword down and to the left in the last pass of the series, then bent over, breathing heavily, resting her hands on her knees.
Dee must have taken pity on her, because she said, "I think that's enough for today."
Letting out a sigh of relief, Megan hung the blade on its cradle on the wall then sank to the floor, tugging the mask off. "Thank god! I'm all done in." Loosening the snaps on the padded jacket, she slid it off and laid it on the floor beside her.
Dee put her own sword up then dropped to the bench behind her companion. "Scoot back a little," she told her.
"Hmm, okay." Megan did as she was told, and felt Dee's strong fingers begin to massage her aching muscles. "Oh, that's good, that's great."
"Thought you might like that. Still determined to learn to use the katana?" She dug in a little deeper, and the other woman grunted softly in response.
"Ugh, yeah, I wanna learn. Keeping you saf
e is part of my duties as a companion, isn't it? And you need to keep your sword skills sharp, so you need a sparring partner. Of course, I don't know if a novice partner is going to do you any good."
Dee's hands moved up to her friend's neck. "Sure it is. You're getting the hang of it, and teaching keeps me from getting sloppy. If I'm reminding you to use proper form, I'm reminding myself as well."
There was silence between them for a few moments then Megan broached the subject of Azir el Sadih. "Got a question for you, kind of related to the incident last night."