Immortal Cascade 10 Immortal Phoenix
Page 9
A bald man with a beard was kneeling next to him. "I'm a doctor, son. How are you feeling?"
Blair ground his teeth in frustration. Wasn't he listening? "I said I'm fine. I just got up too fast and passed out. Sorry to have troubled you."
"No, no trouble at all. If you continue to have these dizzy spells, I suggest you see your own physician." The man got to his feet and helped Blair up.
Blair swayed for a moment then the room stopped spinning. "Thanks, but I'm fine." The man went back to his table, and, righting his chair, Blair sat down.
Naomi hovered anxiously for a moment, then resumed her seat. "Are you sure you're all right, sweetie? You gave me a real scare. One moment you were fine and the next you were on the floor. Is it from all the stress? Of course it is. I'm so sorry, I thought I was doing a good thing. I never dreamed all the problems having Sid look at your paper would cause. I'll bet you haven't slept or eaten properly in days. All the more reason you should come on retreat with me."
Blair rested his elbows on the table and leaned his head in his hands, his forefingers massaging his temples, trying to block out her nervous cajoling. Finally he'd had enough. "Mom, stop it, okay? I'm not going anywhere with you."
His mother's eyes glistened with tears. "But, Blair, it's obvious you haven't been taking care of yourself. What if this wasn't just a little dizziness? What if something more serious is wrong? You have to let me help you."
Blair shook his head and bit back a scream at the pain. "Mom, please. I'm okay. If you're worried about me needing someone to look after me, I have Dee. We'll be spending plenty of time together with Jim and Megan in the hospital." He didn't bother to mention that time would be spent on the opposite side of the country, away from her interference.
Naomi snorted softly. "Some girlfriend she is, can't even show up for dinner with her boyfriend's mother."
"She'll be here, Naomi." The rest of what he was going to say was interrupted by the soft trilling of his cell phone. Digging it out of his pocket, he flipped it open. "Hello."
Dee's voice sounded wearily in his ear. "Meet me in the lobby by the restrooms. I need the keys to the Volvo." There was a sharp click as she hung up.
Closing the phone, Blair put it away. "I'll be right back; I'm going to the restroom." Getting to his feet, he walked out of the restaurant, feeling his mother's suspicious gaze on his back the whole way.
Once out of her line of vision, he ducked into the hallway to the lavatories. As he passed the women's room, the door opened and a hand shot out, latching onto his arm and dragging him inside. He turned around to see Dee locking the door behind him.
"God, Dee, what happened?" She looked awful, her mascara had run in dark rivulets down her cheeks, and her hair was a windblown disaster. Her coat was open, and he could see a small hole in the front of her black dress surrounded by a darker area that looked wet or… "You're hurt."
She shook her head. "Damn bitch shot me. I'm fine now. I just need the keys to the car." She held out her hand, her expression hard and businesslike.
For a moment he was hurt, then shaking it off, Blair moved into her space, his hand going to her cheek, his touch incredibly gentle. For a moment, she didn't move, then he heard a shuddering hitch in her breathing and felt her arms go around him, hugging him tightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm sorry, Lobo. I didn't mean to spoil things. I wanted everything to be perfect, to make a good impression, and now I'm a mess and I can't stay because I have to get rid of her body…"
He stroked her back, her hair, feeling the tension start to leave her. "It's okay, baby, it's okay. I kind of ruined everything anyway. I passed out in front of my mom during the Quickening."
Stepping back, she caught his face in her hands, her eyes meeting his. "What!"
"I'm okay, I'm fine. You were just…too close, that's all."
Leaning her forehead against his, Dee swore. "Damn it, damn it. I didn't even stop to think about that; we only went a block over. Shit! I'm sorry, Blair. Are you sure you're all right?" She peered at him intently again.
"I fine, I'm fine, just a killer headache. And my mom's being a…pain."
Dee frowned. "How so?"
Blair shook his head carefully. "Not now. You have things to do." Reaching into his pocket, he handed her the keys to his car. "Just…make sure it's clean when you're done. I'll tell my mom you're not feeling well, and get a ride home with her. I'll meet you at the loft later, okay?"
She rubbed his cheek. "You sure?"
"I'm sure. I can handle my mom." Raising up on his toes, he kissed her gently. "I love you."
She gave him a weary smile. "I love you, too, Lobo." Then unlocking the door, she was gone. Blair followed her out of the restroom, getting some very strange looks from the people in the hallway.
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Jim was awakened from a drug-aided sleep by a bone deep ache that encompassed his entire body. What in the hell? He shifted in the hospital bed, and the pain didn't get any worse or any better. It was just--there, though it seemed to be fading now. He ran a hand over his face.
"Jim? You awake? Something's happened, and I can't raise Dee on the phone." Megan entered the room, her expression worried.
"You felt it too?"
Megan shook her head. "I haven't really felt anything, at least not physically. I just know there's something not right."
Reaching for the phone next to the bed, Ellison punched in the number to Blair's cell phone. At Blair's hesitant "Hello," Jim said, "Sandburg, is everything all right?"
"Yeah, Jim, everything's fine. I'm having dinner with my mom. Why do you ask?"
"Both Megan and I have…I'm not sure how to explain it, Chief, but we both have a gut feeling that something happened to you and to Dee."
"Oh, wow. The hospital is like ten miles from here, and Dee wasn't touching me this time. Man, I wish I could do some tests on this! This is like so cool…" His voice trailed off and he was silent for a moment, then said, "Sorry, I forgot for a second. But everything's okay, well, as okay as it can be. Dee got challenged. She won, but was only a block from me. What the two of you probably picked up on was the Quickening energy."
Jim accepted that explanation, but he couldn't help but feel there was something else bothering his partner. "So you're okay?" he asked again.
"Yeah, I'm okay. It's just been a long day, and my mom's…I know she means well, she just wants me to be safe, but she doesn't understand the connection between us, and I'm not sure I know how to explain it to her. I'm not even sure I want to. Look, she's going to be wondering what happened to me, so I've got to get back to the table with a good excuse for why Dee isn't going to be showing up. I'll call you in the morning, okay?"
"Okay, Chief." Jim hung up the phone slowly, then met the Australian's eyes. He quickly explained what had happened, and Megan sank into the chair next to the bed.
She rubbed her temple with her good hand. "I don't know, Jim. I know I volunteered for this Companion thing, but the Immortal stuff? I'm having a really hard time dealing with it. That's a part of Dee I just don't understand. How can she wake up every morning prepared to kill someone?"
"You do the same thing as cop, Connor."
She shook her head. "No, I wake up every morning hoping today isn't the day I have to kill someone. I don't think I'm ever prepared for the possibility, in fact, I've never killed anyone in the line of duty. I just hope that if I'm ever in that kind of situation, that I'll do the right thing, that if I have to shoot someone, I'll be able to do it."
Jim shrugged. "I think we all do that. But you have to remember, Diandra's been at this a couple thousand years, she was a warrior at a time where if you didn't know how to use a sword, you were taking your life in your hands. I wouldn't say she's become inured to it, but she knows how to deal with it. And I expect after so many years of having people trying to kill you, you quit feeling any remorse at fighting back."
"I don'
t know." The expression on her face was serious. "But I made a commitment, and I'll honor that, I just don't know how I'll react the first time I'm faced with the Game, with knowing she's going off to kill or be killed. There's no way to prepare for that, it could happen anytime, anywhere, just like tonight." Her words were interrupted by a large yawn. "I guess I should be heading back to my room. Night, Jim."
Getting to her feet, she left the room, leaving Jim to wonder if sending Blair to Washington DC with Diandra was such a good idea after all.
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Diandra unlocked the door to her loft, slipping inside and closing the door behind her. Goddess, what a mess. She'd loaded her opponent's body into the trunk of Blair's car and driven to the docks, where she dumped it in the bay. Hopefully she hadn't been spotted. A quick trip to the carwash to vacuum it out, and she drove back to Prospect Street. By now it was too late to even make an attempt to meet Blair and his mother, even if she had been in the mood.
Tossing her long coat at the couch, she headed up the stairs, stripping as she went, mentally cursing the bitch who'd put a hole through her designer dress. She didn't own many of the things, and the ones she had she was quite fond of. She washed up quickly in the bathroom, and pulled her disorderly hair back in a ponytail, then threw on track pants and a tank top. Time to burn off the excess energy.
Flying down the stairs, she proceeded to beat on the heavy bag until her knuckles were split and bleeding. Still she felt the rage, the anger, the frustration churning inside her. What in the hell was going on with her? Her reaction to the female immortal's threats against Blair had been way over the top. She'd let herself be goaded into a challenge she could have avoided. And she'd forgotten one of the basic rules of war, if you can't chose the time, chose the place. If the woman had been a better shot, she would have lost her head.
Tears filled her eyes, and she leaned against the punching bag. Blair, gods, it would damn near kill him to lose her. All the energy drained out of her at that thought. He could have been killed anyway, if she'd been any closer when she'd absorbed the Quickening. What had she been thinking?
That was the problem, she hadn't been. She'd simply reacted to a perceived threat to him. She hadn't given a damn about herself, as evidenced by her blindly following the woman into her trap. She hadn't even thought to use all of her senses. Hell, if she had, she would have smelled the gun on her. But no, all her common sense, all her years of experience had gone out the window. If Dee didn't know better, she would have sworn she was reacting to the presence of a rogue Champion. Shaking her head, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. That was impossible. She hadn't reacted that way to Ellison when they'd first met, though his hostility toward her had been a classic reaction. But he hadn't gone this overboard.
Frustrated, she ran both hands through her hair, pulling strands out of her ponytail. Stress, that had to be it. They were all under incredible stress, after the dissertation crap, and Zeller, and everyone being shot. Sure that was it. She was picking up on everyone else's angst on top of her own. Wiping the tears away, she got unsteadily to her feet. Tea. She could really use some tea.
A quick check of her cupboards revealed the fact that she didn't really live in that apartment any more. Not one bag of tea. She slammed her palm down on the counter. Dee, get a grip on yourself. Not having tea is not the end of the world. Besides, she knew where Blair kept his stash. Grabbing his keys out of her coat pocket, she headed across the hall.
Fitting the key into the lock, Dee opened the door and stepped inside. The lights were on, and she turned toward the kitchen just as Blair came out of the bedroom, dressed only in sweatpants. "Hey, angel, everything go okay?"
Whirling in surprise, she dropped the keys on the floor. "Oh, Goddess, it's you. You scared me for a second."
Blair frowned. He came toward her, pulling a t-shirt over his head. Lowering his voice, he said, "You didn't hear me come home?"
She shook her head. "I've got everything turned down. I'm just a little…on edge right now."
He looked up at her, puzzlement written on his face. "You okay?" he asked, his hands sliding up her arms, coming to rest on her shoulders.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine, I just thought a little tea would help."
"Ah, tea, that I can do." Turning to the cupboard he took down a mug and handed it to her, then went looking for the tea.
The sound of the toilet flushing echoed in the quiet loft. "Oh, Dee, I forgot to tell you--"
"Sweetie, who are you talking to?" Naomi came around the corner of the hallway and stopped, her expression confused.
Diandra's gaze met the other woman's, and the mug slid from her suddenly numb fingers to smash on the floor. No, it couldn't be…fate wouldn't be that cruel, would it?
Blair jumped at the sound of the glass breaking and turned around to find his mother and Diandra staring at each other. For a long moment, no one said anything, then Dee seemed to break out of her trance. "Hello," she said calmly, extending her hand, "I'm Diandra Pallas." The slight trace of an accent that was always in her speech was gone. "Sorry I couldn't make it to dinner; I haven't been feeling too well today."
"I'm--I'm Naomi Sandburg, Blair's mother," the other woman replied, taking Dee's hand briefly in her own, then letting go. "And that's all right about dinner, it was not the best evening anyway."
Blair squirmed at his mother's veiled accusation. "Uh, look, I should get this mess cleaned up. Didn't you say something about wanting to get an early start in the morning, Mom?"
"That's okay, Blair," Dee said hastily. "I've kind of lost my desire for tea right now. I'm going to go turn in. Nice meeting you, Ms. Sandburg." With a little wave to him, she left the apartment.
What in the world was going on? He'd gotten the unmistakable feeling from her that she knew his mother from somewhere, and her hiding her accent only added to his suspicions. Great, now what was he supposed to do if Naomi started asking questions?
"Are you sure we haven't met her before, Blair?" Naomi said.
Great, just great.
"She looks familiar, and yet, not. Hmm, I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe if I meditate for a while, it will come to me."
"That sounds like a really good idea, Mom." Blair grabbed her coat from the hook by the door and helped her into it. "Go on your retreat and think about it. Sorry tonight was a bust. Maybe next time you're in town we can all have dinner to make up for this time." Opening the door, he fairly shoved Naomi into the hallway. "Call me when you get back from your retreat."
"Honey, about what I said at the restaurant--"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll think about it, Mom. I just want to wait until things have calmed down here somewhat, before making any big decisions about my future." He gave her a hug and a kiss. "Bye, Mom."
"Bye, baby." She walked down the hallway to the elevator. Blair closed the door only partially, listening carefully until he heard the ding that signaled the car's arrival, and the swish of the doors closing behind her, then he raced across the hall into Dee's loft.
"Dee?" he called softly. "She's gone." He walked through the living area into the studio. His lover was sitting on the floor, her back to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, her head bowed. "Angel? You okay?" Squatting next to her, Blair laid his hand on her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin, sidling away from his touch and curling up even tighter if that were possible. Now he was scared. "Dee, you're really freaking me out here. How in the hell could meeting my mom do this to you?"
She raised her head then, and he could plainly see the tears running down her cheeks. "This wasn't the first time we've met."
"What?! You and Naomi know each other? How come you never mentioned it to me? How come she never mentioned it?"
Dee scrubbed at her face with the palms of her hands, sniffling. "Because she was going by the name Naomi Starchild, and I wasn't using Diandra Pallas. My name was Andrea Price."
 
; Blair felt his heart stop, and he fell back on his ass with a soft thump. He opened his mouth to comment, but no words came out, and he could feel tears welling up in his own eyes. "Andy?" he finally whispered, his voice shaky.
"Yeah, ain't life a bitch. Nothing like finding out the man you're in love with was almost your surrogate son twenty five years ago." She laughed bitterly, and ran a trembling hand through her hair. "My life is one big cosmic joke."
"Oh, god, Andy," was all he could manage. Childhood memories rose to the surface, a small, neat ranch in the outback of Australia, and the tall, lean, tanned woman with the short-cropped, sun-streaked hair who ran it. He remembered her large hand closing around his small one as she showed him her horses on his first day there, her patience with him as his four year-old tongue struggled with the animals' long Arabic names. He remembered the long days and nights as she cared for a pneumonia stricken Naomi, yet still found time to reassure him his beloved mother would be just fine. He remembered crying for days when his mother told him they were going back to America. He couldn't understand why they had to leave the only real home he'd ever known, when everything that was important in the world to him was there, his dog, his horse, his best friend, Andy.