by Carol Roi
"I think so, at least I think it was her voice that told me to remember this morning. I never knew that dying could hurt so much, or that reviving was such a great cure for being drunk." I watch as he slides down the wall he's leaning against, tucking his long legs under his buttocks. "I'm never going to drink again. The Pallas One Step Program to Sobriety sure beats AA's Twelve Step deal all to hell."
I can't help it. He probably didn't mean to be funny, but I'm chuckling as I walk back towards the exercise area. "I'm going to hold you to that promise, Jan-Michel." I pick up the practice blade he'd left on the mat and toss it to him. "Let's try again, shall we?"
Later, when Diandra returns, I'll ask her if she wants a Student, and if she doesn't, I'll make some phone calls. There are a few Immortals I'd trust to train my friend; maybe one them would be willing to let me call in the favors they owe me.
Jan's first move surprises me, a hard shot to the sword, followed through with a backhand to my face and a kick to my hip. Damn, that was a good combination. I dance away, out of the reach of his blade, smiling. "Very good, Jan. Now, let's play the Game."
The sound of steel meeting steel reached Blair's ears as he got off the elevator on the third floor of 852. Good, that meant that Lee and Jan-Michel were in. Using his key to Diandra's loft, he let himself in and shrugged out of his backpack and jacket, then pulled the mug shots out and crossed the living area to the studio. He stood in the passageway between the two rooms for several minutes, watching the Immortals spar.
Lee finally noticed him and lowered her sword, jerking her head in his direction. "Let's take a break, Jan."
"Fine with me." The Watcher set his sword down on a bench and headed for the kitchen. Lee kept her blade in hand as she approached Blair.
"There something you want, Sandburg?"
Blair felt the hair on the back of his neck raise, and it was all he could do to keep from pulling his lips back in a snarl. He really didn't like her. But, he reminded himself, she's Dee's guest, and Jim is stuck on her. Smile and use some of that Sandburg charm. "Hi, Lee. I've been helping Jim and Megan out with the QuestScape break-in and I pulled some photos of some guys with a background in computer piracy. I was wondering if you would take a look at them, see if you recognize any of them."
An emotion flashed across her face too quickly for him to catalog, then she said, "Sure, I'd be glad to. But I don't know how much good it will do. You know I didn't get a good look at the thief."
"I know, but you did get a glimpse of the guy who killed your bodyguard, and right now we're operating on the theory they're one and the same." He held out the photos and she took them, tucking her sword under her arm.
She flipped through them quickly and handed them back. "Nope, sorry, don't recognize any of them."
Oh, great, she was really being helpful. Either she knew the guy wasn't going to be there, or she knew he was, and didn't want to let Blair know. He held the photos under her nose again. "Take another look, and take your time. If anyone looks even vaguely familiar it'll at least give us some place to start."
Once again the Immortal leafed through them, pausing for a lengthy two seconds on each photo. "Sorry, but none of these look like the man I saw. But like I said, I didn't get a good look at him."
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Blair thanked her and headed upstairs, pausing to grab his backpack. All the cop instincts he'd picked up from hanging out at the PD were screaming at him she was lying, that she had recognized one of the photos and it had been Brad Ventriss'. And if he followed that line of reasoning, then she had been lying all along to Dee and to Methos. He distinctly remembered both of them asking if her attacker had been immortal. Both times she had replied "no" or she "didn't know."
Sitting down on the bed, he tugged his laptop out of his pack. Maybe Eolia's old Watcher had responded to his email. Hopefully with information he could use to pry the truth out of her. Just as he was opening it up and switching it on, his cell phone chirped. Rummaging through the pockets of his bag, Blair finally pulled it out and clicked it on. "Hello."
"May I speak with Blair Sandburg?" a male voice inquired.
"Speaking."
"This is Lew Huddleston. You sent me an email regarding Leandra Evans, or Lee Eolia as I understand she's going by now?"
Blair fairly bounced on the mattress. "Oh wow, this is great. I was just getting online to see if I had an email from you. I have so many questions I need answered about Eolia, and I keep running into brick walls."
"Well, I'll help you as much as I can, but my hands are still tied as far as most of her CIA records are concerned. Most of her assignments are still classified."
The anthropologist sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. My sources tell me that she was working in Peru the same time as Lee Brackett. That's the time I'm most interested in. Can you tell me what she was working on?"
"No, sorry, that's still classified."
Blair thought a moment, then asked, "What about Brackett's projects? Could you see if Leandra is listed as ever working on any of those?"
"Ah, I can tell you're used to making your way around governmental red tape, Mr. Sandburg. Give me a few minutes and I'll see what I can come up with." The sound of computer keys being tapped came over the line.
"Well, working with the PD has given me an insight into the governmental mind, not to mention all my experience filling out grant forms," Blair replied with a laugh.
"Here we go. Eolia worked one project with Brackett, his last one before he left the Company. It was actually kind of a joke around here. We couldn't believe he actually got the funding for it."
A nasty knot began to form in Blair's stomach. "Could you tell me what that project was?"
"Sure, it's not classified any longer, as nothing ever came of it. Brackett was testing people for heightened senses. Most of the people he tested only had heightened taste or scent. You know, the folks coffee and perfume companies hire. It made him a laughing stock, maybe pissed him off enough to send him into business for himself."
The young Watcher thought he was going to be sick, but he managed to end the phone call without raising the other man's suspicions. "Thanks, Mr. Huddleston. You've been a great help. Goodbye." Clicking the phone off, he fought back the urge to throw it across the room. God damn it! Some Guide he was, allowing someone who was a danger to Jim and to Dee to get that close to them. He should have spoken up, voiced his suspicions earlier. Now the snake was in their midst. Well that was going to come to an end right now.
Getting to his feet, Blair trotted down the stairs, finding Lee and Jan-Michel preparing to spar again. "Eolia," he snapped, "I need to talk to you--" He was interrupted mid-speech as Diandra staggered into the studio, covered in blood. "Dee? Oh, god, Dee!" Blair rushed to her side, catching her as she collapsed. He went to the floor with her, cradling her in his arms, feeling her life slipping away.
Part 20
Dee drove past the front of 852 Prospect, cursing under her breath. Of course all the parking spaces in front were taken when she had a load of groceries and last minute holiday presents in the back. Pulling around behind the building, she parked in the back lot and got out. Immediately she felt the prickling sensation down her spine. Turning up her hearing, she picked up the clash of swords coming from her loft on the third floor. Lee must be working with Jan-Michel. Good. The quicker he was up to speed, the better.
Getting out of the Wagoneer, she walked around to the rear, feeling the soft, cold kiss of fat, wet snowflakes against her face. Their trip to Hawaii was looking better every day. She was reaching for the hatch release when the bullet tore through her upper back, slamming her against the truck. Oh shit! Barely keeping on her feet, she darted around the side of the truck as a second bullet shattered the rear window. The buzz washed over her again, stronger this time, and she realized someone was looking to take her head the easy way. Hell if she was going to lie down and let him do it!
She ran for the safety of the loft, feeling another s
hot strike her in the lower back and exit her stomach. There was no way she was going to make it around to the entrance, and no help was going to come from her friends inside; whoever the gunman was, they were using a silencer. Bullets kicked up a spray of snow at her feet. When in doubt, do the unexpected. Dee sprinted toward the building, leaping up to grab the bottom of the fire escape, cranking the pain dial down as far as it would go as she felt the partially healed wound in her shoulder tear open. Scrambling upwards, she fell to her hands and knees one flight up as her assailant sent two rounds through her right leg. Damn it! She wasn't going to die like this, not at the hands of a faceless Immortal who didn't play by the rules.
Crawling up one more ladder, she found herself on the landing outside Blair's bedroom. Screw the door. She dove headfirst through the window, rolling over the bed to land on her back on the floor in a pool of blood and broken glass. She could feel herself starting to fade, her injuries too great for her body to heal without completely shutting down. Come on, Dee, get up! You die here, you're vulnerable; everyone is across the hall. Goddess, she was so tired... .
Her eyes started to close, then something nudged at her senses, and they flew open. The grinning face of her attacker leered at her through the broken window. "Goodbye, bitch!" His weapon appeared in the opening, his finger squeezing the trigger as her throwing dagger buried itself in his throat. With a strangled cry, he staggered back, tumbling over the railing.
A low moan escaped her lips as she pressed a hand against the new hole in her chest. Get up, damn you! He's gonna recover before you do. Focus, I need a focus... Almost as soon as she had the thought, the sound of the guide's voice filled her ears. Lobo... I need to get to Blair... Using the edge of the desk, she clawed her way to her feet, stumbling through the open French doors and across the loft to the door, blood-slick fingers fumbling with the lock, then flinging it open.
Falling across the hallway, she caught herself on the doorknob of 308, feeling it turn in her grasp. She hung on the door as it opened inward, using the momentum to propel herself across the living area and into the studio. She was vaguely aware of three faces turning toward her, then her vision dimmed and her legs crumbled underneath her.
"Dee? Oh, god, Dee!" Strong arms caught her, lowering her gently to the floor. The unique scent of her lover filled her nostrils as the rapid pounding of his heart drowned out everything else. She was safe now; she could let go. Surrendering to death's embrace, she let the darkness pull her under.
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Blair tightened his arms around Diandra, pulling her closer, his shocked mind thinking that if he only held her close enough, he could protect her. God, how had this happened? Who would have attacked her? A quick look confirmed at least three bullet holes in her torso, one large crimson stain directly over her heart.
He heard Eolia swear. "Damn it! Jan--"
"On it, Lee!" The Watcher produced a gun from somewhere and headed out the door.
Leaning his cheek against Dee's hair, Blair felt tears running down his face. She was coming back; he knew she was coming back, but it still frightened him, feeling her so still in his arms, her warmth fading. Lee was pacing the studio, talking to herself in Greek. He hadn't been paying much attention to her words, until two of them caught his ear, immortal and rogue, which were followed by something about "the bastard's son." And he knew. All his theories, his conjectures, his what ifs coalesced in that moment.
Laying Dee down gently on the hardwood floor, Blair got to his feet slowly, rage simmering inside him. "You knew."
The Immortal turned toward him. "What?"
"You knew. All this time, you knew! You didn't say anything, not even when she asked! You didn't even warn her there was a headhunter in Cascade! A headhunter who shoots his victims before beheading them!" Blair bent over Diandra for a second, then straightened, her katana in his hand. "I showed you his fucking picture not twenty minutes ago, and you denied you'd ever seen him. Why? Why would you do this to her? What has she ever done to you?"
Lee made a placating gesture toward him. "Sandburg, what are you talking about? A headhunter? Here? Please, put the sword down and we'll talk..."
"Fuck you!" He waved a hand at Dee. "This is your work! Your lies and your secrets did this to her! No more! I won't let you hurt anyone else, not Dee, not Jim, not Megan! Get out!"
The red-haired woman shook her head in disbelief. "Why? I didn't do this to Diandra, HE did!"
"You heard me. Get out! Get out of this apartment! Get out of Cascade and don't come back!" She took a step toward him, and Blair brought the sword up into a ready position. For a moment he thought she was going to challenge him, then he saw the uncertainty and maybe a touch of fear and anger in her eyes. She didn't know what he was capable of and that was enough to make him a threat.
"Fine, I'll go." Stalking across the room, she grabbed her coat from the hook by the door. "But know this, young Watcher -- if I'm not here, if Jan's not here, then you and Dee are sitting ducks for this asshole. Watch your backs." And she left, slamming the still open door behind her.
"I'd rather have a lump of clay watching my back than you, bitch. At least I know it wouldn't stab me when I wasn't looking." Blair moved swiftly, throwing the locks on the door, then returning to his lover's side. Sitting down next to her, he laid the katana down, then gathered her up in his arms again, rocking her gently, waiting for her to come back to him.
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I'm numb, shocked, and sickened by the sight of Diandra, dead, in Sandburg's arms. "Damn it! Jan... "
"On it, Lee!" My student somehow has managed to conceal his handgun in his workout clothes; he's pulling it free even as he breaks for the open door like a professional linebacker.
I turn my attention back to the tragic scene of Blair, tears streaming down his face, clutching Diandra's body close to his. Shaking my head I start to pace, thinking out loud in ancient Greek, as is my wont. "Damn it, why her? It's me the damn rogue has been after, why go after another Immortal? Son of a bitch! I'm going to kill the bastard's son when I get my hands on him. How dare he bring innocents into this battle between us!"
"You knew."
Startled, I spin on my heels, facing the young Watcher. He understood what I said? "What?"
"You knew. All this time, you knew! You didn't say anything, not even when she asked! You didn't even warn her there was a headhunter in Cascade! A headhunter who shoots his victims before beheading them!" A headhunter? Like the one who took my beloved husband from me? Oh Gods! I watch him bend over Diandra's body, only to see him come up with her naked blade in his hand. "I showed you his fucking picture not twenty minutes ago, and you denied you'd ever seen him. Why? Why would you do this to her? What has she ever done to you?"
I keep one eye on the blade in the distraught man's hand while trying to placate him, not making any sudden movements. "Sandburg, what are you talking about? A headhunter? Here? Please, put the sword down and we'll talk..."
"Fuck you!" He waves a hand at Dee. "This is your work! Your lies and your secrets did this to her! No more! I won't let you hurt anyone else, not Dee, not Jim, not Megan! Get out!"
Jim? I'd never allow him to be hurt! What is going through this man's mind, and why did he bring up the Inspector? I cannot believe my ears. "Why? I didn't do this to Diandra, HE did!" Well, it's true. I wasn't the one who pulled the damn trigger --several times from the look of things -- on the gun that cut Diandra down. It was that son of a bitch's adopted son!
"You heard me. Get out! Get out of this apartment! Get out of Cascade and don't come back!" I take a step towards him, thinking only to somehow disarm him without hurting him. But he brings the katana up in a 'ready' position and suddenly I realize that I cannot harm him. I'm sick of running, sick of being pushed around by everyone, but I'm also afraid. Afraid I may just be the reason Ventriss Junior came after D
iandra. He may be taunting me. And by the way young Sandburg is holding the blade, I cannot take the chance he knows how to use it.
"Fine, I'll go." Carefully avoiding crossing too close to his sword range, I grab up my jacket from the coat hook by the door. I cannot go before I warn him, and I risk his wrath by stopping on the threshold, my back to him. "But know this, young Watcher -- if I'm not here, if Jan's not here, then you and Dee are sitting ducks for this asshole. Watch your backs." I leave, slamming the door shut in my rage. Let the two of them have their privacy while Diandra's body recovers from her wounds.
Running down the stairs, not bothering to look for Jan-Michel, I try to open myself up to see if I can pick up a trace of the Immortal son of Loki who has ruined my life, and the lives of those I considered friends, for the last time. A distinct tang of foulness born in the depths of Hell greets my search and I'm pulling keys out of my coat pocket as I run to the Lexus. "You'll not get away that easy, Bradley, my dear."