“So what's the moral of this story? Everybody dies? If some nasty creature doesn't get them, something else will?” Jerry snorted while keeping his eye on the way that Pope's thumb twitched slightly when he reached for his beer. Nerve damage, he had been wounded in battle but not enough that it got him discharged. There was something else...
“You can't save the human race Daniel. All you can do is postpone it's destruction,” he summed up and drank.
“So, we shouldn't even try?”
“Better to live it up while you can instead of risking your ass to save people that can't be saved.”
“Be a slave in heaven or a star in hell?” Jerry said. He was hating this guy more and more by the second.
“Exactly.”
“Dude...you are all kinds of twisted,” Jerry glared.
“Oh, please. Tell me something, when you kill those things, do you enjoy it?”
“I enjoy the fact that somewhere there is a person or persons still alive because of what I did.”
“Bullshit. You get a kick out of wasting those things!”
“What, I'm not allowed to take pleasure in my work?” Jerry asked with raised eyebrows.
“Of course you can. I'm more interested in the fact that you forget most of the things you slice to pieces were once human. That part of them still is.”
Parker had said the same thing to him but he'd never really believed it until he'd gotten to know Cass and Claire and Sophinia. To him it wasn't about what you were, it was about what you did. The choices they made were what made them who they were. The ones that chose to kill meant nothing to him. They might as well have been cardboard cutouts.
“The moment they stop caring about human life, they stop being human. They're monsters, plain and simple!”
“And why should you feel bad about killing a monster? I mean, it's not like humans do anything monstrous, right?” he said with a dark cynical tone.
For a second Jerry found it difficult to answer back.
“So that's your excuse for screwing people over for your own gains?”
“Hey, like I said; I'm just trying to make a living,” he smiled.
“Must be difficult since manual labor jobs would turn you down. You're service injure must make it hard for you to find honest work.”
“What?” Pope actually looked surprised.
“The slight shaking in your thumb isn't arthritis, it's too strong for that. You'd have it in both hands if it was that bad. It's nerve damaged, probably from a crash you took while you were serving in the air force. I'm guessing as a helicopter pilot since during the crash you would have been holding onto the stick so hard trying to steady the bird that its perfectly possible that you would have ripped something. You landed the bird, saved the crew and maybe even got a medal for it, but no promotion and no pay rise. Which is when you lost faith in the military, and your dedication to serve your country. At which point you probably did everything in your power to get out of there. Assaulting your superior officer would be my guess. That way you could just blame it on trauma from the crash and be discharged, no questions asked. That's when you became a gun for hire. Am I close?”
The look on Pope's face told him everything he needed to know. He'd hit the nail right on the head. He was full on Sherlock today.
“The nerve damage to your arm, which has translated into your thumb is the reason your doing everything in your power to make sure we don't get into a fist fight. It's weakened your grip and would cause you a butt loada' pain if you put enough pressure on it. You'd hurt yourself more than me if you had to throw a punch with your right. Hence the bomb on my chest,” Jerry grinned, knowing that he'd figured his opponent out. “It also gives you closures since you obviously know about bombs after that little bed time story you told me. You like to be in control of them but not against them. All in all, it equals a damaged soldier looking for meaning who found none and now seeks distraction from that non-existent meaning with money, booze, drugs and putting people in the exact same helpless position you were once in. You think you're showing them your life. You get screwed over while others get rich. You get forgotten no matter what you've done. You die no matter how you've lived...so, as you said, why not be a star in hell instead of a slave in heaven...you get no reward either way...that's your belief.”
He now knew his enemy and therefore, knew how to beat him. Pope could only respond with a very nasty glare that bounced right off Jerry. Rachel was never intimidated by anyone because she could simply read their weaknesses in their heads but everyone else had to figure it out with good old fashioned detective skills. Luckily, Jerry was becoming very good at that sort of thing. But he was more focused on the problem right in front of him, like how to get away from dozens of innocent people without turning into a press-ganged suicide bomber.
“Well...aren't you a sharp one.”
“Sharp enough to draw blood,” Jerry smiled.
“We'll see.”
“I'm sure we will.”
Pope brushed off his earlier anger and went back to business like it had never happened. “I gotta hit the head. I don't need to tell you what will happen if you try and run away.” he put his beer down and walked off towards the bathroom.
Pope obviously needed to splash some water in his face after Jerry had managed to out him and was probably reassessing the whole job. That made him happy but the rest didn't, especially what he'd been saying before about human nature. It was a load of crap. True, humans were capable of terrible things but they were also capable of amazing things. He was proof of that. How many other teenagers besides him and Goose had gone toe to toe with some of the nastiest creatures the supernatural world had to offer and survived? How many other teenagers had saved as many lives as they had?
Monsters weren't monsters because they had gone from human to supernatural. They were monsters because they'd gone from innocent people to killers. He shook his annoyance at Pope's argument out of his head and tried to focus.
If he was going to have a chance of escaping now was the time but how was he supposed to disarm a bomb in the middle of a crowded restaurant? Jerry looked around to see if the surroundings gave him any answers.
Outside the sun had all but faded and the light now came from street lamps. A few more people entered the building and took a seat at one of the tables as a waitress walked over to take their orders.
He thought about warning the barman and asking him to call the cops but that would turn this whole thing into a nightmare and Pope would still have a butt load of hostages. He could try and call the Nearly Departed but the people there wouldn't be able to get the damn bomb off his chest. Unless of course there were witches there, in which case some magical mumbo-jumbo might help...or make him explode.
This day was becoming very frustrating. He kept checking the clock above the bar wondering how much time he had left.
He looked over and saw a steak knife sitting on one of the tables. He wondered whether or not that would be strong enough to pry the casing off the bomb so he had a shot at disarming it. But where would he do something like that without being seen?
His mind swam with escape ideas, each one worst than the last. It was starting to dawn on him that he was pretty much screwed at this point. It was going to come down to a fight between him and his kidnapper and he basically just had to make sure that he knocked him out and wrestled the phone away from him before he could push the button. Then something else occurred to him.
Pope had been in that bathroom for at least ten minutes.
He turned around to look at the bathroom door, waiting to see if he came out but he didn't. Then he turned back and almost had a heart attack.
Sitting in Pope's seat was a woman so beautiful that it didn't seem real. Just looking at her felt like someone had driven a bulldozer through his stomach. She had long dark blood red hair, perfect skin and a body that made every part of Jerry ache with lust.
Her long smooth legs were crossed and dozens of vertical tatt
oos were visible on them because of the tight denim shorts she was wearing. They looked like some kind of ancient tribal writing that Jerry didn't recognize. She also had a white vest top on that seemed purposely too small so that her incredible curves could be displayed. She looked to be in her early to mid twenties but that probably wasn't accurate. She didn't need to dress in fancy clothing to show how beautiful she was and the way her chin and and shoulders were raised told him that she was devoid of self-esteem issues which only came from maturity and confidence or vanity.
She was staring deep into his eyes with a small smile on her face.
“You're not human,” she teased with a silky voice.
“Excuse me?” Jerry blurted, still startled by her looks.
“It's okay, I'm not either,” she grinned proudly and leaned closer almost as if she were about to kiss him. “You're eyes are incredible,” she said staring intensely. “They say the eyes are the windows to our soul, right? Your soul must be so beautiful.”
“Err, I..I don't...” he spluttered while seeing the hard emerald color of hers with golden flanks wrapped in long dark eyelashes. A slightly lighter shade than his but similar nevertheless.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Aria,” she said politely moving back while holding out her hand. Everything she did, her movements, her voice, the way she looked at him had a strange sort of lazy gracefulness to it, like she was automatically good at everything. She sounded English, not quite stiff upper-class posh but had way more pronunciation than most. Every word was sharp and clear but inviting at the same time. A sign of wealthy or high-class upbringing. A temptress.
He shook her hand but did so very gingerly. “I'm -”
“Daniel Jericho, sorry Jerry,” she crooned sweetly still gazing into his eyes with fascination. She knew his nickname. Only his closest friends called him that.
“It's nice to meet you Aria,” Jerry just managed to snap himself out of staring at her
“Do you like games?” she asked out of the blue. “I love games. Chess is my favorite. You play chess right, Jerry?” Very, very, very few people knew that he played chess. How the hell did she know? “The whole world is like chess. One massive game.”
“Yeah, I love a good game of chess but I'm afraid now really isn't a good time.” he said anxiously while looking over at the bathroom entrance. He didn't know what Pope might do if he came back and found him talking with a tremendously beautiful woman but he had a feeling he'd assume the worst.
“Oh, don't worry,” she said cheerfully. “He won't be coming out of that bathroom...at least until the coroner gets here.”
A wave of shock went through his body. Suddenly he was staring at her again but not because of her looks. “You...you killed him?” he breathed.
Aria nodded happily. “What? He was going to sell you to a pureblood,” she sounded so casual that she could have been talking about a hockey game.
“I know, but...” Jerry rubbed his hand through his black hair looking flustered. Pope may have been a dick but he was a human dick and he didn't like seeing humans get killed. “You didn't have to kill him.”
Aria actually looked almost confused by that comment. Her shoulders fell slightly and she seemed like she was upset that he didn't appreciate what she'd done. “I wasn't expecting this...I mean, I killed all those Black Forest idiots and those werewolves that were going to eat you and now the guy that was trying to kidnap you...I thought maybe I'd at least get a thank you.”
Jerry's heart was beating so fast he was afraid it might trigger the bomb. She was the mystery monster?! He wasn't sure what to expect from the thing that wasted a truck load of his enemies. Maybe some huge hulking creature with a burning sword and an attitude but not this. Not the most drop-dead gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Her skin was slightly tanned indicating body heat, a circulation and a pulse. She definitely wasn't a vampire, or any undead creature for that matter. But what was she?
“That was you...you've been protecting me?”
Aria nodded eagerly.
“W-why?”
“Because you're special Jerry. You have no idea just how special...oh, you can take that bomb off by the way, I disarmed it,” she said pulling Pope's phone out from between her cleavage. Jerry blushed and Aria seemed to notice it and smile. “I won't let anyone hurt you Jerry, I promise.”
“Thanks,” he managed to whisper. He needed to do a treat assessment of her but he couldn't seem to manage it. He couldn't think straight.
“You're welcome,” she grinned happily.
“Err...why am I special?”
“That is what I want to find out. I've been around for a very long time Jerry and I've never seen anything like you before. You're blood, it's incredible. I want to help you find out why. I've been doing some digging but so far I've found nothing. Looks like you're brand new.”
His brain clicked onto auto-pilot. 'Been around for a very long time'. Instantly the voice in his head started spitting out facts. Ancient creature, incredibly powerful, highly intelligent, possibly 34D, maybe DD, long legs, blood red hair, emerald eyes, eyes screaming 'come hither'...his mind drifted off for a second, analyzing parts of her that he didn't mean to, but he managed to force it back into place and continue. Sultry voice and eye contact indicates sexual confidence and high-self esteem. Vanity, she knows exactly how beautiful she is and uses it to her advantage. And it works. Her face, her body, her voice, everything about her was a distraction. But his mind was working very well at the moment, probably due to the adrenaline and he didn't want to loose that. He concentrated again, going back to her words.
“Digging?” his mind backtracked to his most recent cases and automatically began piecing the information together. “Like in Florida and near the Rocky's?”
“Yeah. I'm sorry about the wyvern, I can't help that these things frighten so easily. I would have killed it for you but I was busy. Likewise, I was going to kill Selena for you but you beat me to it. Very impressive by the way,” her playful attitude would have been cute if she hadn't been talking about the vampire bitch that killed his friends.
Was this a dream? Had he finally snapped and gone insane or had he just become the luckiest guy on the planet? A goddess was protecting him and now offering answers to all the questions that had plagued him since this all began. It was a dream come true...so why was his instinct screaming at him to run as fast as he could.
Something wasn't right about all this, about this woman. The auto-pilot clicked back on and suddenly he was analyzing her again. She jokes about killing a pureblood but not in a boastful way, she was being playful, which indicates...power. She knows she's stronger and sees killing a super-vamp not as a something to be proud of but merely as entertainment. She's not just powerful, she's incredibly powerful. Extreme beauty and extreme power...a dangerous combination.
Jerry was, for the most part, still treating her as a threat but it wasn't easy. She could be a succubus or siren which would explain why his brain seemed determined to understand her completely. “Err, great,” he said hiding the caution in his mind. “So what now?”
“Now we go somewhere safe. Somewhere nothing can find you.”
The smoothness of her voice couldn't hide the fact that it sounded like he was about to go into supernatural witness protection or worse, become a prisoner. Like she was planning to keep him all for herself.
“Yeah...that's not gonna work for me,” he said trying to stay calm. “My friends, my family, they're all here. I can't just walk away from that.”
“Your friends? You mean the vampires that are constantly thinking about your blood?” she asked sounding amused. “They maybe playing nice now but sooner or later they'll snap and sink their teeth into you. They're not your friends.”
“Yes, they are and I have a job to do.”
“Not anymore,” the smile had faded from her face again but this time it came with a hint of warning in her voice.
“I'm not just gonna ditch everyone I care about and -”
<
br /> “So we don't get off on the wrong foot,” she interrupted, “I should warn you that I don't take rejection well,” suddenly her voice and her beauty made her seem more frightening than anything he'd ever faced before. She raised her left hand and looked as if she was going to strike him, instead she reach for his beer a took a swig. “And I'm used to getting what I want.”
Blood Heavy: Ascension Page 12