DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, Paramount Studios, Inc
and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright
(c) 2004 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
The Lost Years: Sins of the Past
by Djinn
Kirk watched as the light
spilling into his bedroom lit up Chris's hair, the dark brown turning copper. The light moved slowly, crawling toward him,
illuminating the bandage on her neck. He
imagined the wound underneath was already healing.
She moaned, burrowing into
him, and he smiled. If it was wrong to
enjoy this, then he didn't care. Not for
the little bit of time he had left before she woke, before she opened her eyes
and they both had to dial back and be friends again. Friends who didn't run from each other. Friends who could pretend they didn't want
more...so much more.
She moved again, and her hair
fell over her face. He resisted the urge
to brush it back. Not just because he
might wake her and bring this sweetness to a premature end, but because he
wasn't sure he could stop if he started to touch her. It was hard enough feeling her stretched
along the length of him, her arm curled around his waist, her head resting on
his arm--an arm that had long ago fallen asleep. He didn't try to move it; the tingling pain
somehow seemed a small price to pay for this closeness.
He let his eyes close,
resting them. He'd slept longer than
he'd thought he would, wasn't surprised that she was sleeping even longer. She'd been patrolling too much. He'd known it, but he hadn't tried to stop
her. And neither had Emma, as far as he
knew. What had they been thinking?
But Chris had been obsessed
with finding Wharton. Searched for him everywhere
she could think to look, never knowing that some of the time she'd had her
quarry hunting at her side. Kirk still was
troubled at that. What did Wharton want
from her that he had gone to such elaborate trouble just to get to know her?
Not that she wasn't worth going
to elaborate lengths for.
She moaned, eased off his arm
and looked around blearily.
"Good morning," he
said, allowing himself to brush the hair away so she could see.
She smiled, then
grimaced. Her hand reached for her
neck. "Oh, yeah." She closed her eyes, pressed against him
again, as if she could forget the previous night if she just got close enough
to him.
"Does it hurt?"
She nodded. "And I'm so thirsty."
He tried to move but she was
holding him tightly. "If you let me
go, I'll get you some water."
She looked up at him. "If I let you go, then this will be
over. And I like this."
He sighed. Her eyes were sleepy, alluring. Her gaze so calm, especially when compared to
the frantic woman who had been at his door.
The hurt woman who had been brave enough to come to his door after
everything that had happened. She smiled
softly, as if asking forgiveness for admitting that she enjoyed being close to
him.
He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her to him and take her
clothes off and...
She moaned. Didn't move but moaned, as if she could feel
what he was thinking. Or maybe she was
just thinking the same thing?
The moment stretched on and
on.
"It doesn't make it any
easier when you look at me like that," he said. "Or when you make that sound."
She looked down, backing off
a little so she wasn't touching him.
He suddenly felt very
cold. "You don't understand why we
can't, do you?"
"Not really. But I know you feel strongly about
this." She put her head down on the
pillow, watching him.
"You wouldn't say no if
I touched you, would you? If I kissed
you? Made love to you?"
She shook her head. "But I won't make the first move
either. I almost lost you
altogether. I don't want that to happen
again." She reached out, her fingers
soft in his hair. "I need you, Jim.
However you can be in my life is fine."
He closed his eyes, let
himself enjoy her touch for a moment.
Then he pulled away.
She let her hand drop; it
came to rest on the sheet between them.
"I'm starving too," she said with a grin.
He realized she was giving
him a graceful way out and loved her for it.
"I'll make you eggs."
"Scrambled?"
"You haven't lived until
you've had my scrambled eggs."
She smiled. "Do you have a shirt I could wear?" She fingered the torn and blood-stained one
she'd slept in.
He slid out of bed, rummaged
through his closet and tossed her one of his sweatshirts. "Use the shower if you want. There are extra towels in the hamper."
"Is that a hint?"
"Not at all." He winked at her, then left her to go fix
breakfast. He heard the sound of the water,
tried to force his thoughts away from her in his shower--naked. Tried and failed.
She came out, looking better
in his shirt than he ever had. He handed
her a cup of coffee and went back to the eggs.
He added dill, his special ingredient, then threw some garlic in for
good measure. Maybe it would keep
Wharton away from her.
"So you and Lori seemed
pretty tight last night? How'd you get
away from her?" Chris's voice was
light, but falsely so.
He could tell his answer was
important to her. "She had
something to do with Carl's death. The
second I figured that out, it was as if some spell had been broken."
"His dea--oh,
god, Jim. I didn't know. I should have checked..."
"Nothing you could have
done. It was magic and we didn't know it
until it was too late."
"And you think Lori did
it."
"She was involved, maybe
even the weapon that took him out, but someone else fired it."
"Who?"
"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." He split the eggs between two plates, added
some toast and pushed the plates over, sitting down next to her.
"Be careful, Jim. Lori's dangerous enough on her own. If she's working with someone else..." She dug into her eggs.
He nodded tersely. "What is she exactly?"
She looked up at him. "You mean you don't know?"
"I'm not a native in
your world, Chris, remember?"
"She's a
werewolf." She took another bite of
her eggs. "These are really good,
by the way."
"A werewolf?"
She nodded, spreading some
jam on her toast. "Oh, yeah. But I've never met one who could control the
change that way. She should have been a
ravening beast when we saw her, not coming on to the two of us." She frowned.
"Which is sort of a ravening beast, just of a different
sort." She grinned. "Not that I'd have admitted it last
night, but I was drawn to her too. My
guess is that she was shooting out pheromones like nobody's business."
"That's why I was
suddenly attracted?"
She nodded. "I think so. Could be something to do with suppressing the
change. I'll ask Emma if she's ever
heard of this." She sighed.
"What?"
"I've got to go see Emma
next."
He nodded.
"I don't want to. I feel so stupid."
He reached over, took her
hand. "You got away. You're not stupid."
She nodded. "Can you keep saying that till I believe
you?"
"Yes, I can. And I will." He grinned at her, saw her expression
lighten.
"Thanks." Her easy smile, a mix of gratitude and
affection warmed him.
They were going to be okay.
---------------------------
Christine spent the walk to
Emma's townhouse looking behind her. She
knew it was irrational to think that Wharton could be sneaking up on her in
broad daylight, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed.
She doubled back a few times,
slipping down alleys and back around until the twitchy feeling between her
shoulder blades died down somewhat.
She walked up the stairs,
stood a moment to compose herself, then rang Emma's door.
It took her watcher a long
time to open it. She blinked at the
sunlight, backing away, then coming back out as she grabbed Christine's
shoulder, pulling her in close. Her hand
touched the bandage on Christine's neck.
"Good lord. What happened?"
"I found
David." She let Emma pull her
inside.
"And he bit you? I don't understand? Did you fight him after I specifically told
you not to? How hard would it have been
for you to just once do what I say?"
"He fought with me...against
other vampires. The stories of him
helping slayers are probably true."
"So it was one of these
other vampires that bit you?"
"No, it was David. And I let him bite me."
Emma sank down onto the
couch, staring at Christine as if she was speaking Klingon. "You let him bite you?"
Christine nodded. "He was going to turn me." She didn't look away from Emma's gaze, could
see the confusion turn to worry in her watcher's eyes. "And I wanted him to."
Emma patted the couch next to
her. "Why? You've come so far." She frowned.
"It's Admiral Kirk, isn't it?"
"It was. That's all fixed now." She laughed as she sat down. It was all fixed if you called sticking your
head in the sand fixing it. But she'd
live with that. As long as she could
still call Jim her friend, she'd pretend she didn't want so much more from him.
Emma let out her breath, as
if she'd been holding it. "He
rescued you then?"
Christine smiled. "No.
I rescued me." She took
Emma's hand in hers. "I wanted
oblivion, and as I was getting it, I realized oblivion was just another word
for running away. And I'm through doing
that."
Emma's hand tightened on
hers.
"It felt good though,
Emma. It felt so damn good. I finally understand why people pay vampires
to bite them. It was heaven." She smiled again, a crooked, wry
gesture. "But heaven is for dead
people. And I want to live."
Emma's smile grew brighter as
Christine finished. She patted
Christine's hand awkwardly, then pulled her into a fierce hug. "Yes.
That's good. That's very
good."
Christine laughed. "Emma?
You're squeezing really hard."
Her watcher let her go. "Oh, my.
I am sorry. It's
just..." She looked down. "I don't want anything to happen to you,
my dear."
"I know. I don't want anything to happen to you
either. And now that I know what he
looks like..." She glared at Emma. "Would it have killed you to say black
hair and blue eyes when I asked you what he looked like?"
"He had blonde hair when
I knew him. Blue eyes though." Emma frowned.
"Back up a bit. How exactly
did he end up helping you?"
"Remember that civilian
I told you about? The one who had the
little crush?"
"Oh, good lord."
"Yep. My puppy dog turned out to be a
hellhound." She shook her
head. "I had the opportunity to
stake him. And I didn't."
"Was that before or
after he tried to turn you?"
"Both."
"Well, let's take our
victories where we can. You didn't let
him kill you."
"Nope. That I didn't." Christine looked round the living room. All the shades were pulled, making the room
very dark. "Emma, this isn't
healthy. He can't hurt you in the
daytime. You need to stop locking the
world away--at least while the sun is out." She walked over to the blinds,
reached for the pull and saw Emma wince.
Dropping her hand, she asked, "What's wrong?"
"I've got a headache. The light hurts."
"You've had a lot of
those lately."
"Yes, well, that's how I
manifest stress. You let vampires bite
you, I get a migraine."
Christine sat down. "Touche." She walked back to the couch, stared down at
her watcher. "I won't let him hurt
you. I said that once, and I meant
it."
"Christine, now more
than ever it is imperative that you stay out of this."
"He's made me a part of
this, Emma."
"No. He's just fascinated by you. You're so much older than the slayers he was
used to."
Christine rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious. He was used to a slayer being barely more
than a child. But you. You're a woman. An attractive, vital, and..."
"Slightly disturbed
one?
"Well, not all sunshine
and light certainly." Emma smiled,
trying to make it better. "He probably
thought that you had some common ground."
"We were like two peas
in a pod." Christine shook her
head. He'd played her so well. Probably still was playing her. "And when we didn't see eye to eye, he
just screwed my mind over until we did."
"Yes. He's good at that." Emma looked down. "Kevin's bringing a team over from
London. We'll deal with David. We'll take him out this time."
"Yes. _We_ will."
"No. I've told you before. Stay out of this."
"You've been letting me
patrol all this time looking for him.
That wasn't staying out of it."
Emma shot her a rueful
grin. "I never supposed you'd
actually find him." She touched
Christine on the arm. "Please. Leave him to us?"
Christine couldn't bring
herself to lie to her watcher, so she didn't say anything.
"You are so
stubborn." Emma rose, walked to the
kitchen. "Tea or coffee?"
"Whatever you want."
"Tea then."
As Emma bustled in the
kitchen, Christine got up and popped up one of the blinds, looking at the
houses across from Emma's. Wharton could
be in one of them, watching the house.
Or maybe he lived closer to the cemetery? He had said he lived nearby. Had that been some kind of clue?
The flowers. He probably bought them somewhere close to wherever
he stayed during the day, or on the way to campus.
"You're too quiet. It's scaring me."
Christine smiled. Emma probably didn't need to know about the
flowers, or that Christine planned to track down every single merchant in the
area who sold lilies and white roses.
She should have recognized the flowers for what they were--a funeral
bouquet.
"Christine?"
She decided to take pity on
her watcher. "What do you know
about werewolves?"
"The usual lore. How to kill them, when they change, what to
feed one if you keep it as a pet."
She laughed.
Christine could hear the
clink of the pot. She walked into the
kitchen. '"Have you ever heard of
one being able to control the change? To
not transform when the moon is full?"
Emma nodded. "The Osbourne
line is known for that ability. They're
quite respectable members of the community."
"How do they do it? Through magic?"
"Through
self-discipline, meditation, and some herbs." Emma poured out two cups of tea.
"Could magic do it
too?"
Emma thought about it. "Yes.
But the effect would be unpredictable.
The preferred technique is to master the beast. Not just chain it up. Magic is like putting a matchstick corral
around a raging elephant. Unless one is
very powerful, the beast will break through."
"What if the werewolf used
sex as a safety valve?"
Emma took a deep breath. "Well, that would relieve it for a
while. But not forever. Why are you asking this? Did you run into a werewolf?"
"A friend did." Christine smiled, knew it was a mysterious
smile. "I'm just looking out for
him."
Emma nodded. "Werewolves are a bit misunderstood, you
know? Most of them don't want to
change. They'd rather stay human."
"When they have changed,
they're mindless, right? Not the kind of
thing you'd use for a job requiring finesse?"
"Oh, heavens, no. They're strictly brute killers."
"That's what I
thought," Christine said, as she sipped her tea. Then she put her cup down on the counter and turned
Emma's face toward her. "Now, about
these headaches. Have you ever had them
checked out? We're quite advanced, you
know? Here across the pond." She smiled at Emma's expression.
"I'm fine,
Christine. Migraines are an occupational hazard for a watcher, I'm
afraid. Didn't you know that?"
"I didn't." She laughed.
"Humor the new doctor. This
is still fun for me." At Emma's
look, she let go of her. "Oh, all
right. Just get some rest." She finished her tea. "I've got to go out."
"You promise me that
you'll stay out of this. I don't--"
Christine let the door close
on whatever Emma was going to say next.
---------------------
Uhura wandered in the fresh
air, enjoying the early morning sunshine despite feeling a bit adrift. Normally she spent Saturday mornings with
Len. Either at their favorite little
restaurant in Savannah, or just down the street from her apartment at the
neighborhood bakery. She missed
Len. Missed him more than she had
expected. They'd talked several times
since he'd gone, but it wasn't the same as having him nearby, didn't make
Saturday mornings alone easier to adjust to.
She squared her
shoulders. This was ridiculous. She'd lived most of her life without Len in
it. She was perfectly capable of getting
a nice breakfast on her own. She was
close to Kirk's apartment, and there was a good coffeehouse across the
street. She'd go there.
The walk was pleasant and she
took her time, finally arriving and ordering a cappuccino and a croissant,
which she took outside to eat at one of the tables in the sun. She looked around at the other solo diners,
all either reading padds or doing some kind of work. Smiling, she leaned back and enjoyed her
coffee. She didn't need to read to be
comfortable alone, she could sip the foamy mix and just watch the people go by.
Like Christine. Coming out of Kirk's building by herself and
walking quickly down the street.
Uhura smiled. Christine better have a damn good story the
next time she saw her. Or Uhura was
going to give her the business for all she was worth.
Christine crossed the street
and Uhura thought her friend had seen her.
She was about to lift her hand in greeting and call out, when she
realized Christine hadn't noticed her.
Then she saw the bandage on her friend's neck.
She put her coffee down, watched
as Christine got farther and farther away.
If she'd wanted to see Christine, she should have said something. Following her now would be an odd thing to
do. Wouldn't be right.
Uhura got up and set off down
the street, the way Christine had gone.
She saw her turn the corner, in the direction of Emma's townhouse. Uhura hurried to the cross street, looked
down it, then ducked back when Christine suddenly turned around.
Why didn't she just call out
to her friend? Uhura couldn't say what
motivated her to follow in silence, but it was that instinct in her gut that
had never let her down in the past. The
Uhura women had the sight, her grandmother used to tell her. Uhura wasn't so sure about that, but there
were times she had strong feelings about something.
And this was definitely one
of those times.
She saw Christine cut through
an alley, then to her surprise, saw a man she hadn't noticed before, turn down
the same alley, stopping at the edge to peek around the corner.
Uhura stepped into the
bushes. What the hell was going on?
Christine eventually appeared
out the other end of the alley, behind where the man had stood, but he had
ducked down an apartment entrance, was hidden as she walked by. Christine turned again, as if some slayer
radar was telling her that she wasn't alone.
Once she'd gotten a safe distance away, the man came out again, resumed
following her down the street.
And Uhura followed him.
Christine doubled back
several more times, and they played it out again--the man following Christine
until he was sure she was doubling back then hiding. Uhura slipping into the shadows much farther
back until both of them moved on.
Christine finally seemed to
relax, headed straight for Emma's house.
The man stopped at the cross street, stood watching her.
Uhura came up behind him. "Excuse me?"
The man spun, his hand going
to his belt. Then he seemed to relax.
"I'm looking for the
Embarcadero. Is this the way?" She gave him her best 'I'm lost' smile and
prayed that he wasn't up on who Christine's friends were and what they looked
like.
He didn't seem to be. His smile seemed genuine, was actually kind
of attractive. "I'm sorry. I'm new in town. But I think you want to head
downtown." His accent was British.
"Okay. Thanks."
She turned around and walked down the street, stopping to ask a woman
for directions in case the man was watching her. From the way the hairs on the back of her
neck were standing up, she thought he was.
She turned the corner onto
the street that the woman had said to follow, then doubled back. The man was still standing there, watching
Emma's house. He pulled something from
his jacket pocket; it looked like a communicator of some sort. He held it to his ear for a moment, then
turned and walked away from the house, coming directly toward where Uhura was
standing.
She hurried the short block
to the main drag, practically threw herself into a crowded bakery and waited
for the man to go by. He was walking slowly
when he finally came past, and she let him have a good head start before
leaving the bakery and following him down the street. She trailed him for several blocks. Fortunately, he was heading in the general
direction of the Embarcadero--in case he noticed her, her route made
sense. Then he turned into an alley
behind a row of businesses and she hesitated.
Long moments passed. She stood undecided. Suddenly, it was as if every nerve in her abdomen
screamed, so she ducked into another shop, peeking out behind the displays in
the window.
She saw the man come back out of the alley,
this time with three other people--a man and two women.
All in tweed. Didn't these people know that tweed was
hopelessly out of date? And a dead
giveaway as to their profession?
Uhura watched as they walked
past her, heading into a small restaurant down the street. She waited a moment to make sure they were
staying put, then hurried out of the shop and back toward Starfleet
Command. Christine might be interested
in knowing about these watchers and where Uhura had seen them. Especially since one of them had been following
her. And it would help if Uhura could
pin down which building they might be working out of. Leases and deeds were on file in the central
database, and Uhura had access to everything in this job.
She smiled. She loved being able to help Christine once
in a while.
---------------------
The scent of flowers hit
Christine as soon as she walked into the corner florist shop. It was the first place she'd thought of. Wharton would have noticed it since it was
located across from the cemetery where he had so often contrived to meet
her. There was no one at the desk.
"Hello?"
A young woman came out from
the back, laughing, smoothing down her skirt.
"Hi."
A young man followed her a
second later. He seemed to also be adjusting
his clothes.
Christine grinned. More power to them. "I was hoping you could help me. Someone sent me flowers last night for
graduation, but the card was lost. I
want to tell whoever bought them thank you, but..." She smiled helplessly.
"What kind of flowers?"
the young man asked. "I was working
last night."
"An assortment of lilies
and white roses."
He shot her a look. "That was for your graduation? He said it was for a funeral."
"He must have an odd
sense of humor." She could tell the
kid agreed with her. "Any idea who
he is?"
"He was a walk in. We don't keep records unless you order them
ahead. I kind of remember him
though." The kid looked at the
young woman. "The guy who wore the
uniform some of the time, remember?"
The girl nodded. "It was weird. Sometimes he went out in normal clothes, and
then he looked different. He even walked
different." She moved to a side
window, pointing to a building down the side street. "He lives there, I think."
Christine frowned. This was far too easy. If Wharton was so damned stealthy, why did
these two kids know where he lived?
"It's on the third
floor, I think." The girl squirmed
under her boyfriend's gaze. "Well,
he's kind of cute. And he never closed
his curtains at night." She looked
at Christine. "He was always alone,
just staring out at the cemetery. It was
really sad."
"Sad." She nodded.
"I think I know who it was.
Thanks." She saw them
exchange looks. "Don't worry. I won't tell him how I found out."
He no doubt wanted her to find
out. Wanted her to beard him in his
den. Why?
She walked down the alley
first, checking the back entrance. It
led straight to the street. No escape
for him, at least not in the daytime.
She walked back to the front, was prepared to make up a story for the
super when the door opened.
"Come up,"
Wharton's voice sounded tinny over the intercom.
She took a deep breath, and
walked up the stairs to the third floor.
The door was unlocked.
"Took you longer than I
thought it would." Wharton was sprawled
on a couch in the living room, within easy reach of the bright sunshine if
Christine chose to open the drapes. From
the look on his face, this was deliberate.
Another test. Another mindf-- She took a deep breath. She couldn't get
annoyed, needed to stay calm. "Why
are you still here if you knew I'd come?"
"I love the time we
spend together." He smiled. "Besides, I'll be gone soon. Now that you know abut this place, I'll have
to find a new place to lay low."
She nodded at the
windows. "In case you haven't
noticed, it's broad daylight."
He laughed. "In case you haven't noticed, the
hallways in this building have no windows, and the basement has sewer
access."
Sewers. She hated sewers.
"You never go down in
the sewers, do you, Christine?"
She shrugged. "I kill enough of you up here on the
surface."
"Hardly a reason. Your heart's not in it or you'd be down
there, sniffing out nests--if you can sniff out anything over the smell. I always want a good shower after being down
there." He studied her. "You look great, by the way. Nearly being turned agrees with you."
She almost snapped that it
was sleeping next to Jim that had agreed with her but managed to bite the words
back at the last moment. Wharton might
not know she and Jim had made up. That could
be to their advantage. "Amazing
what a good shower can do. For humans or
for vampires."
"Sit down. We haven't had much of a chance to talk
since--"
"--Since you tried to
kill me." She moved closer to the
windows.
He smiled, it was seductive
and smooth. It was clear he was not
afraid of her. At all. "Since you _let_ me bite you,
Christine. A very important distinction,
and one that isn't lost on you. Or on
Emma, I imagine. You did tell her?"
"Of course. And here's an even more important
point." She pulled out her
stake. "I stopped you."
"I was surprised at
that. You surprised me. Very few people are capable of
that." He patted the space next to
him on the couch. "Be a love and
come sit down."
"Not likely." She played with the curtain cord. One good pull and she'd get to see just how
fast he was. It was tempting.
He laughed. "There is true darkness in you."
"Or maybe it's just my
wacky sense of humor." She
sighed. "What do you have to gain
by all this, David? What will you win if
you kill Emma?"
"Or if I kill
you?" His smile was no longer quite
so seductive. It had taken on a more
predatory look, more professional. The
face of one of the best killers who had ever worked for the Council. "And I will kill you if you get in my
way."
She did not react to the
threat in his eyes, the cold smile that seemed to grow colder as she
watched. She let her own eyes grow
dark--let him see the face of the woman who had risked everything to take out
Anacost, and that damned orb.
He thought she was dark? He had no idea.
He stood up, began to move
toward her. She yanked the curtains
open, stood in the pooling light. He
stopped.
"You were
saying?" She sat down on the window
ledge. "Mmm,
nice warm sunshine."
"You're stuck
there. And the sun will eventually
desert you."
She smiled. "Then we'll fight." She touched her stake lovingly. "And this time I won't let you talk me
to death." She rested the stake on
her knee, kept her grip on it sure.
"I'm sitting here for your protection, not mine."
He frowned then. Something in her eyes, she thought. He was finally understanding that maybe he
didn't know her as well as he thought.
He backed off, not afraid, more to regroup it seemed.
He sat down on a chair, the
sunlit couch no longer a suitable choice.
He leaned forward. "It's barbaric, Christine."
"What is?"
"Slayers."
"Yes, I imagine from
your perspective it is." She smiled
sarcastically at him.
"I don't mean that. In this day and age, what possible sense does
it make to arm a young girl with a wooden stake and send her out against
creatures of nightmare? Think of the
resources at the disposal of the Federation, of Starfleet. If the Council would just come clean, would
just ask for help..." He shook his
head, his mouth set in an angry line.
"You want me to believe
that you are an advocate for the more efficient eradication of your
species? A species that no one believes
in?"
He leaned back with a bitter
laugh. "You've seen far worse
things on your journeys through space, surely?
Would a Klingon not be a fantastic monster if you tried to describe one? What about a Horta
with its acidic touch? Does a Vulcan not
look like the devil himself?" He
shook his head. "It's all just tradition. Tradition and control that the watchers don't
want to give up. What does it matter to
them that girls must die so that the Council can maintain its hold on the
process." He took a deep breath. "The girls have no one to speak for
them...no one to fight for them. We could. Together."
"Vampire to
vampire."
He nodded. "The power you would have would be
amazing. Slayer strength and cunning coupled
with the attributes of the undead. You
would be unstoppable."
"Thanks. I'll pass." She smiled again, made it mocking this
time. "I'd miss my reflection. How would I put on my makeup?" Or see yet another cut or bruise or scrape
from fighting. She looked down.
"There's a thriving
underground market in ensorcelled metal.
How do you think any vampire puts on makeup?"
"Really?" She'd always wondered. He smiled, and she glared at him. "Don't delude yourself that we're connecting
here."
"Of course
not." He crossed his arms behind
his head. "Besides, I know that's
not a very strong selling point for my lifestyle."
"There aren't any
selling points."
He smiled. A silence fell between them. He watched her with a knowing look, as if he
thought she'd say something just to break the uncomfortable stillness in the
room.
She waited him out.
He finally sighed and said, "I
followed you to his place, you know.
That foolish admiral you like so much."
She forced herself to not
react.
"You didn't come out
again, not by the time dawn threatened.
I take it you two made up?"
He did not look happy about that fact.
Then his expression lightened.
"But not all the way. Not
the way you want." He smirked at
her. "Honor is a bitch, isn't
it?"
She shrugged.
He smiled, then seemed to
shake off whatever emotion he was feeling.
"No matter. You have no
doubt been ordered by Emma to stay out of this."
"You know I won't do
that."
"And so does she. I imagine she is panicking now. Can you imagine how worried she must be about
what would happen if a Slayer as damaged as you are were to be
turned?" He saw her slight reaction
and smiled. "Oh, she'll couch it in
terms of caring about you, keeping you safe and out of all this. But in the long run, she will only be
concerned with protecting her own kind.
Watchers."
"You're
wrong." Christine winced; she had
just sounded like a hurt child.
"You're wrong," she said again, this time in a firmer tone.
"Am I? I imagine Silver's on his way even now with a
team of my former colleagues." He
grinned at her, the look taunting. "Why
haven't they asked for your help? You're
the slayer, Christine. The one who
survived a Gotterdammerung, and all those foolish to-the-death challenges you
engaged in before Spike rescued you from yourself. Oh yes, news like that does travel."
She started to answer but he
cut her off. "The watchers don't trust
you. They don't think you can handle
this. They don't think you're strong
enough to take me down. Or stable
enough." He stood up, began to move
to the door. "They're wrong. And their lack of faith in you will be their
undoing."
"David, I can't let you
go."
He smiled as if she had just
declared her undying love. "I know
that. You know that. Why don't they know that? Ask yourself that, my dear." He blew her a kiss and turned for the door.
She let the stake fly, a
sharp overhand throw, headed straight for his back. It was a perfect throw, but instead of
impaling him, it bounced off and fell to the floor.
He clucked his tongue at her
as he turned. "Body armor,
Christine. Unlike you, I believe in
modern technology." He kicked the stake
away from them both, toward the bedroom.
"I've left you a little present.
One of the advance guard. I bet
you didn't even know they were here, did you?
This one was following you. Until
I ran into him last night on my way home.
Eating him lifted my spirits considerably after you rejected me and ran
off to another man." He grinned at
her, his tone still light-hearted, almost teasing.
She walked over to pick up
the stake. Then looked into the
bedroom. A man lay on the bed, drained,
his eyes still open, staring wildly. It
didn't look as if the bite had felt good to him.
"Surely, you sensed him
following you?" Wharton's breath
blew past her ear. Cool, like Spike's
had been.
She'd had to get used to
that.
"You would have felt it
here. An itchy feeling." His hand touched her between the shoulder
blades.
She whirled, aimed the stake
for his neck, but he'd already jumped back.
He kicked at her, and she met the blow, following the movement instead
of trying to stop him. It gave her an
opening to kick out at him. She made
contact, kicked him out of the bedroom.
He hit the floor, turned the impact into a backward roll and was back on
his feet.
They circled; she watched his
eyes, trying to read what he would do.
His hand came up and she ignored it, met the real threat which was a
vicious flying kick that would have caught her in the spine if she'd tried to
dodge his feint. Instead, she grabbed
his leg, twisting, using his momentum to help her throw him down, her stake
slashing, hitting his neck, but only enough to graze him, not to stab deep. He rolled before she could try again with the
stake, throwing her off him and coming up.
This time with a weapon in
this hand.
"It's much like your
phaser, my dear. It's set to stun. If you want me to turn you now, attack me
again."
She froze.
He shook his head. "You see how quickly our little dance
was stopped? With this? Just one piece of an amazing arsenal the
Council could use if they wanted to.
Instead they'd rather carve stakes." He backed away. "They'd rather you and your kind die
than admit they are obsolete. That their
methods are laughable."
"David, maybe you're right. But killing them isn't the way to make them
listen."
"What makes you think I
want them to listen?"
She frowned.
"I don't plan to kill a
few of them; I plan to kill all of them and take over the Council. I'll bring it up to the twenty-third
century. And you could help me. Think about it." He started to walk away and saw her
tense. "So help me, Christine. Make a move and I will turn you."
She forced herself to relax.
"Good. I'd rather have you want it." He gave her an oddly-tender smile then turned
and walked out of the apartment. She
could hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway, unhurried, confident.
All that was missing was
mocking laughter.
She walked back into the
bedroom, rifled through the dead man's clothing, trying to find anything that
might tell her what the Council was up to.
He was carrying a small personal data padd. It had a picture of her on it, information on
her usual haunts, the places she tended to patrol, her friends and associates.
He had been following
her. Had Emma known? Had she provided the information?
Christine put the padd in her
pocket. Let them think David had stolen
it. Then she commed
Silver. He no doubt had a clean-up team
with him in addition to his hired killers.
Let them deal with it. She got
the usual run around, left the message and hung up.
They wanted her out? They could think again. She locked the door behind her when she left,
knowing it would only slow them down for a moment. But breaking in would still be an annoyance.
Sometimes you had to make
your own fun.
-------------------------------
Uhura sat back with a
sigh. Something wasn't adding up. Again.
It seemed that whenever vampires or watchers were involved, something never
added up. She accessed another database,
began to cross reference the deeds she'd dug up in the central property
registration. "This doesn't make
sense," she muttered.
"You wanted to see
me?" Kirk poked his head into her
office. "It is Saturday, Nyota. Or are you
trying to impress the new boss."
She laughed. "The new boss is probably out sailing
right now. I'm working on a personal
project." She pointed at her
chair. "Sit."
His eyebrows went up at her
tone but he did what she said. "Do
you mind telling me what am I doing here?"
She smiled. "Waiting for Christine. I don't want to have to tell this
twice."
"Tell what twice?"
"Uh-uh. You aren't getting
a preview."
Footsteps sounded down the
hall, unusually hard and fast.
"Somebody is not in a
good mood," Kirk said softly.
Uhura nodded, resisted
telling him that Christine had seemed in a fine mood when she'd left his place
earlier.
Christine strode in, her
posture rigid, her face set. She saw
Kirk and seemed to relax just a bit.
He stood up. "What happened? Emma give you a hard time?"
"Oh no. Emma was a sweetheart. David gave me a hard time."
"You found him?"
Uhura asked. She'd sure missed a lot in
the few hours since graduation.
"He found her a long
time ago." Kirk pushed an edge of
her bandage that was peeling up back into place. "Found her, nearly turned her."
He and Christine shared a
long look.
"So just a normal
day?" Uhura said, hoping to ease the tension that was building again.
Christine smiled,
"Yep. Just a normal day." She moved past Kirk, took the other
chair. "On top of dealing with him,
I found out that the watchers have people following me."
Uhura nodded. "I know.
I followed one today who was trailing you. When you went to Emma's."
Christine turned a surprised
look on here. "You followed
me?"
"Well, technically, most
of the time I was following the man who was following you." Uhura frowned. "When he stopped at the corner, I sort
of pretended I was lost." At their
joint looks of consternation, she said, "Well, I never get to help. He didn't know who I was. And he was British and dressed in lots of
tweed. Pretty much screamed
watcher. I left him there and doubled
back. Then he walked away while you were
at Emma's, went back toward downtown and met up with three other
watchers."
"Then what?" Kirk
asked.
"Then they went into a
restaurant. I guess for breakfast?" Uhura shook her head. "I've been checking the leases and deeds
on the businesses off the alley where they met up. But I'm not seeing anything out of the
ordinary. No offshore ownership, unless
you count the Tachikawa-Nogura corporation as its own country." She laughed, realized neither of her friends
seemed amused.
"Nogura?" Kirk
asked.
Uhura nodded. "The company owns the whole block and
hasn't leased to anybody new in over a year.
I checked some other blocks in the area; business seems stable in that
part of town."
Christine sat back. "You say this person following me only
went as far as Emma's? And that he was
dressed like the quintessential watcher?"
Uhura nodded. "And the people he met up with. Tweed central."
Christine shook her
head. "The watchers did have
someone following me. Wharton killed
him, left him for me as a present."
She saw Kirk begin to comment and held up a hand. "He had information about me and about
all of you. He was either following me
or just a very big fan. He was also
special ops--watcher special ops. They
don't wear tweed. They blend."
"These guys didn't
blend."
"Silver's en route still. I can't believe these are his people." Christine pulled out a small personal data
padd, called something up and held it out to them. All of Christine's friends and colleagues
were listed. Christine clicked on
Uhura's name. A picture came up. "I
took this off the dead guy. They know
who you are, Ny."
"But this watcher didn't,"
Kirk said.
"Or he did." Christine frowned. "Maybe he wasn't following me. Maybe he just wanted Ny
to think he was and report back to me.
To make me trust the watchers even less." She sighed.
"I think this could be David.
He could have hired some actors.
He's trying to make me doubt the watchers."
"You've never been much
of a fan," Uhura said quietly.
"No. I never have."
Kirk leaned back, shaking his
head as he said, "I still don't like the Nogura connection."
"His family is richer
than god, Jim," Christine said, "and the family corporation owns a
lot of property. I think it's just
coincidence."
He didn't look
convinced. "Can you take me
there?" he asked Uhura.
"Sure. But..."
She looked at Christine.
"We'll all go. Maybe they're still there." Christine made a face. "I knew someone was behind me today. I knew it but I kept shrugging it off as
nerves."
"You doubled back enough
times. The guy was good at
hiding." He had been good. Maybe too good? "He was better than I'd expect an actor
to be. He seemed to always know where
you'd be."
"Let's go check it
out." Kirk stood up, the picture of
command.
Christine nodded, tried to
move past him but he stopped her.
"One question," he
said. "Did you fight him?"
She nodded.
"And he ran off?"
"That's two
questions."
He touched her arm. The gesture struck Uhura as very
possessive.
"Humor me," he
said, his face deadly serious.
"He walked off. I was in over my head. From the very first minute I set out after
him. I went by the watcher book and by
all rights, I should be dead now."
She looked down. "I can't fight
him the old way. Not with stakes or
swords. That's what he keeps telling me
is wrong with the system. And I think
it's time I listened to him."
She pushed past Kirk. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
Uhura glanced at Kirk, who
just shook his head then followed Christine out. Uhura closed down her search screens, erased
all history of what she'd been looking for, then hurried out after them.
-------------------------
Kirk watched Christine as she
hurried ahead of him. She clearly was
angry, and more than a little shaken. He
walked faster, caught up with her and said, "So what happened?"
"I told you. I found David."
He didn't like how easily she
was using the vampire's first name.
"And...?"
She closed her eyes for a
second, then let out a long sigh of air.
"Chris. You said he was right. Just tell me what happened." He touched her arm again, letting his fingers
rest against her shirt--his shirt. He
smiled. He wondered if David had been
able to tell it wasn't hers. He hoped so.
She put her hand over his,
her skin was cold--not vampire cold but chilled, as if she'd had a shock. "I figured out where he was
hiding...actually, he wanted me to figure it out. I went in alone. The way a slayer does. Armed with my pointy little stick."
He waited.
"He makes so much sense,
Jim. About the watchers, about how
things are with the slayers, with how wrong the system is."
"So you talked and then
you let him go?"
She shook her head; her hand
tightened over his. "I didn't. I told him I couldn't let him hurt Emma. He was not impressed with my threats. When he turned away from me, I threw my stake
at him, right into his back. And it was
the most beautiful throw, Jim. It was
hard and it was dead on target."
She laughed, an odd bark of hoarse laughter. "He was wearing body armor. And do you know I felt like he was cheating?" She turned to look at him. "That's idiotic. He was just being smart."
"So then he got
away?"
"Oh, no. We fought some. Kicks and blows and more of me trying to poke
him with the pointy stick. Until he
pulled out a phaser--or a version of one anyway. Shut me right down."
He swallowed hard. "Why didn't he...?"
"Turn me?" She laughed, the sound even darker, more
bitter than before. "He's not done
with me yet. And he wants me to want
it."
"Do you?"
She looked at him, and he saw
surprise in her eyes. "No. Jim, no, I don't."
"But you sound like you
agree with him."
"I find his methods
abhorrent. But his message? I can't say he's wrong. Do you remember when we went after
Marcus? We used flamethrowers. Why don't we use those routinely? Why don't we have even better weapons. Small things, easy to patrol with,
lethal. We should be studying vampires,
finding out how to track them, how to kill them more efficiently--like Spike
said the Initiative used to do."
"The Initiative?"
"Soldiers. Back in Buffy's time--late twentieth century. Turned out their leaders were actually trying
to make human-demon hybrid soldiers, which was a completely bad idea. But they made some headway in less stupid
areas, spread the expertise. It was all
lost during the wars, I guess. Or the
watchers didn't want anything to do with it.
But the Initiative had machines that could track the pheromones that
certain demons give off. We have nothing
like that. We have swords and crossbows
and holy water."
"And that's all you had
on Gotterdammerung. All those
slayers--"
"That was
different. The Orb would have turned
fire against us. But if it hadn't, we
could have leveled them with a phaser canon.
Or at least done some damage."
He nodded. "And we would have. We would have done all those things. Anything you wanted, I would have ordered up
for you, you know that?"
She smiled, a soft smile that
he liked to think was only for him.
"I know you would have. But
the watchers, they wouldn't have done it.
They don't do it even for the youngest slayers. They cling to the old ways. Have ever since they reconstituted the
council after Buffy died. Spike said
that Giles just gave up then. Packed it
in and took Dawn with him and went to live by the sea. Never went near another slayer."
He wasn't completely sure
what she was talking about, but he let her go on. It was better to have her working it out,
even if he didn't understand it all.
"Giles might have
changed things." She shook her
head. "We have to think of another
way to stop David." She touched her
leg.
He saw that she'd jammed a
stake in her pants pocket.
"How?"
"That's what we have to
figure out." She smiled at him
gently. "How fast can you learn to
throw lightning bolts?"
He smiled. "I may like to compare myself to a Greek
god, but I'm not quite there yet."
She laughed. Her expression lightened. "Well, then we just have to find some
weapons that will help."
He nodded. Christine turned to look back at Uhura, who
had been trailing them in silence.
"Much farther?"
"About two blocks,"
Uhura said.
Kirk slowed until she caught
up with him. Christine walked on ahead,
her step no longer so heavy, so angry.
Uhura smiled at him. He thought
he saw approval in her eyes.
"Not that I don't like
being included in the Slayer fan club, but why did you invite me today?"
Uhura's expression grew
grim. "Because I saw her neck. And how you weren't with us at graduation...and
how she felt about that."
He looked down. "That's over now. We--"
She touched his arm, shook
her head. "I don't need to
know. All I want to know is that nothing
bad is going to happen to her."
"We won't let anything bad
happen to her."
Uhura shot him a look. "No, _we_ won't." Then her expression grew lighter,
teasing. "But I think you carry a
bit more weight with her these days than I do."
He smiled. "I'm her Captain."
"Oh, is that what it
is?" She laughed.
"You...approve?" He was surprised at how much her opinion
mattered to him. Surprised and
disappointed in himself a little. It
didn't matter if Nyota approved or not. He couldn't have Chris, even with her friend's
blessing.
But he still wanted to hear
what she'd say.
"She's my friend. I want her to be happy. You make her happy."
He smiled.
"And she makes you happy
too, doesn't she?" Uhura looked at
him softly. "It's nice."
It was nice. It could be nicer if--
"She does." He tried for his lightest grin. "She's my friend."
He thought Uhura looked
disappointed in him.
"My friend," he
said again, firmly. As if daring her to
argue with him.
She looked down. "Len was your friend, too."
He felt a pang. "How is he?"
"He's fine. He's working with a medical relief team. Won't be back for weeks." She shook her head. "You shouldn't have to ask me how he
is. You should be able to ask him."
He could feel his mouth
tighten. He knew she was right. But it hurt.
McCoy could ask him too. It wouldn't
kill him...
He stopped that thought. Death was all too prevalent in this brave new
world of slayers and magic.
Chris turned around, looked
at them. "Everything okay?"
Uhura nodded, left him behind
and went to join Christine. "It's
just up ahead."
He followed them, trying to
do as Weasel had shown him--open himself to the energy around him without
dropping his guards. Tried to taste the
air, feel the energy, the dynamics, the personalities, the evil and the good. Weasel had told him that every event, every
person, every word said in anger or love or hurt left a flavor, a tang that
colored and scented the energy left behind.
He had to find a way to read it, to find the four people Uhura had seen
and--
The hairs on the back of his
neck suddenly went into high alert. He
looked around. "Chris."
She was by his side
instantly. "Ny
said this was the alley the man disappeared into, before he came out with the
others."
He nodded. "Lori."
"Where?" She sounded like she'd be all too happy to
use the old-fashioned methods on her.
"No. Not her.
Like her." He tried to feel
the snap on snap feeling, but it wasn't there.
Just the strange rising of his hackles.
"Her kind, maybe?"
"Her kind?" Uhura looked back and forth. "And Lori who?"
"Admiral Ciani. She's a werewolf." Chris waved off her next question. "I'll explain later." She turned back to Kirk. "It would explain why he was so good at
following me." She frowned. "But why stop to eat. That makes no sense."
"I left right away. They might have just walked through, gone out
the back?" Uhura looked down. "I wasn't being very smart."
"No, you were
fine." Chris shook her head. "Why are there suddenly so many
werewolves interested in what we're doing?" She pursed her lips. "Or...is it not us? Is it the watchers they are worried
about?" She looked at Kirk. "Do you feel anything else?"
They both stared at him as he
tried to concentrate. "I feel
incredibly self-conscious." He
shook his head. "Nothing. Let's go."
Christine was staring off
into space.
"Chris?"
She nodded slightly, as if
she were working out something. "I
have to go see someone."
"Not Wharton again?"
She shook her head. "Lori said slayer heaven, right?"
He nodded.
Chris smiled. It was a deadly smile. "I think it's time she and I had that
little talk."
"Chris."
"No. It's time I found out what she wants. And why she cares about that."
Uhura shot her another lost
look. When Chris smiled, she said,
"I know, I know, you'll tell me later, right?"
"You shouldn't have
missed the big battle, Ny. Catch up's a bitch." Chris smiled.
Touched her friend's hand.
"Dinner tonight?"
Kirk felt a pang of jealousy
but pushed it away. He'd had her the
night before. Well, not had her exactly.
Uhura nodded, then turned to
include him. "You like
Italian?"
He shook his head.
"You do too like
Italian," Chris said.
"No, I mean, you two go,
have fun."
Chris shook her head, looked
over at Uhura with a knowing smile.
"You'll convince him to come with us while you walk him home?"
Uhura nodded, took his arm
and prodded him out of the alley.
He turned, and looked at
Chris. "How are you going to find
her?"
She shrugged, shot him a
breezy smile.
He gave her the look. The one that said, "That's not good
enough, Lieutenant."
She smiled. Not very intimidated by his stern admiral
gig. "Maybe she'll find me?" She shot him one last smile then turned and
headed away from him, down the alley.
He watched her till she was
out of sight.
"Ready?" Uhura
asked softly.
He nodded, held his arm out
to her and tried not to think of what might happen if Lori did find Chris.
------------------------------
Christine waited until she
was sure that Jim and Ny were gone, then headed back
into the alley, walking slowly, carefully.
Waiting.
A door opened; Lori stepped
out.
They stared at each other.
"Jim didn't know you
were here."
Lori shrugged. "He's new at this, and he was looking
for the energy of those who were here this morning, not for me. He wouldn't have found me anyway. These buildings are shielded." She moved closer.
"But I knew you were
here." Christine smiled. "Let me guess. You wanted me to know."
"Something like
that." Lori smiled, the look
managed to be both mocking and lascivious. "You wanted me?"
"Let's walk," Christine
said, ignoring the come on and heading for the street.
Lori laughed. "Neutral ground? Fine."
She fell into step beside Christine.
"You're not still upset about last night, are you?"
Christine didn't answer.
"It's too bad you didn't
want to join in our fun. Jim might not
have run from me if you'd been there."
Christine shot Lori a
surprised look. She'd expected her to
lie, to try to make her jealous.
Lori smiled and for once, it
seemed an honest expression. "I'm
trying to win your trust, Slayer. Lying
to you would hardly be the way to start, now would it?"
"Never stopped you from
antagonizing me before." Christine
took a deep breath. "Or maybe you
need something from me that you didn't before?
You...or your boss?"
Lori nodded. "It's possible." She touched Christine's hand.
A tingle ran up Christine's
spine as Lori ran her fingers over the top of her hand.
"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Lori asked, her voice a soft purr.
"You're awfully pent up. It's
been a while for you, hasn't it?"
Christine realized with a
start that Lori had moved her into a doorway, was pressed up against her. Lori ran her hand up Christine's arm, the
tingling sensation moving higher. And
lower.
"I can help you with
that. He won't, you know? You can't ever have him." Lori leaned in, fingers on either side of
Christine's head, moving through her hair, her lips close, so close.
Magic. Just magic.
And sheer animal magnetism.
Christine brought her hands up sharply, pushed Lori away from her, then
caught and turned her so she fell not out toward the street but deeper into the
doorway.
Now it was Christine's turn
to press against the other woman, to hold her as she first squirmed playfully then
struggled.
"You like to play games,
Lori?" Christine pulled Lori's face
up to hers, kissed her hard. As soon as
Lori stopped struggling, began to return the kiss, Christine pushed her back. "I don't like to play them. You tell your boss that." She turned away.
Lori laughed. When Christine didn't stop, she rushed up
behind her, fell back into step with her.
"Gods, you're exciting. You
know that? We could be good
together." She reached out to touch
Christine's arm again, but dropped her hand when she saw the expression on the
slayer's face.
"Or not." Christine walked in silence, ignoring Lori's
soft laughter.
"Where are we going?"
Lori asked. "Not that I mind the
exercise, but I thought you wanted to talk."
"Where I pick. Not where you pick."
Lori rolled her eyes and
followed her in silence as Christine led them down to the piers. Finally, Christine walked to the end of one
of the less commercial piers and sat down on a bench overlooking the
water. Several fishermen leaned against
the railing, not talking to each other as they watched their lines.
Lori sat down on the other
end of the bench. "I'd sit closer,
but I am supposed to get some work done here, Lieutenant."
Christine remembered that the
woman she'd just manhandled outranked her and then some--no doubt exactly as
Lori intended she do. Fleet habits died
hard. "Yes, Admiral, do explain why
you and yours are following my friends?"
"Are the watchers your
friends now, Christine? We were under
the impression you were an independent?"
Lori sat back, her expression suddenly all business. "Or at least until your own special
watcher showed up. Emily is it?"
"Something like
that. What do you care if I'm a watcher
fan or not?"
Lori seemed to consider her
answer. "Normally, one slayer here
or there doesn't impact our life much.
We ignore them, they ignore us.
It works. But it is not lost on
Admiral Nogura or myself that we owe you a great debt for Gotterdammerung. And you're one of us, Christine. You're Starfleet. Just like Nogura. Just like me."
"I'm nothing like
you."
Lori laughed. "Could have fooled me. That was some kiss."
She patted Christine's
leg. It was a motherly movement, little
of sex about it to Christine's surprise.
She hadn't realized Lori could turn it off that easily.
"Maybe you're just
horny? Your vampire boy toy left
town." Lori leaned in, touched
Christine's neck gently. "Although it
seems you lined up a new one? A
chip-free one this time?"
Christine looked away.
"Your story. I don't need to know."
"Are we ever going to
get to the point?" Christine said, pushing Lori's hand away from her
throat.
"This is the point. We are on the same team. You, Nogura, Jim, and I. We're on the Starfleet team. You haven't lost sight of that, have you,
Lieutenant?"
"Again the rank. It loses its impact after the first time,
Lori."
Lori's mouth tightened. "Then let's talk about something we
haven't brought up yet. Kirsu."
Christine remembered what
she'd said to Silver when he wanted to talk about Kirsu. "New sushi dish?"
Lori's face didn't change
expression.
Christine met her gaze, kept
her own face bland.
"Kirsu."
"You said that. What is it?"
Lori smiled grudgingly. "You say you don't like to play games,
yet you play this one so well."
Christine shrugged.
"Slayer
heaven." Lori leaned forward, her voice
much softer, pitched so only Christine could hear. "Another dimension. Land of eternal sunlight, eternal daytime. And not precisely fixed in location."
Christine could feel her
eyebrows going up. The last bit was
news. She'd thought the portals moved
and Kirsu stayed put.
"It shifts to wherever
the portal forms. There are ways to use
it to go wherever you want to in a heartbeat.
You don't need a ship, don't have to waste valuable time traveling from
point to point. Just pick a place, and
you're there." Lori laughed
softly. "Well, it's probably harder
than that. But not much harder if a few
girls can do it."
Christine inhaled softly.
"You're listening
anyway. That's an
improvement." Lori looked around
them. "We tried to do this on our own. It's a family legacy, after all, for the
Admiral. His family helped create the
magic that calls Kirsu down. It's only
right they get that magic back."
She looked down. "We had
what we needed in our grasp. Or my
cousin did--until he was killed. We
don't know by whom, or if they even knew what they had."
Christine forced herself not
to react. They were after the
amulet? Did they really not know it had
been Spike who had killed Lori's wolfy relation? Or were they playing more games? Did they expect Christine to run straight to
where she was keeping the thing? Would
they follow her?
Lori leaned in, took her
hand. The tingling was more subtle this
time; Christine could almost feel the woman trying to push at her will. She pulled her hand away.
"This goes beyond
vampires and werewolves. Transcends
monsters, Lieutenant Chapel. There are
enemies out there, a gathering storm. More
than one gathering storm."
Christine looked at her,
understanding dawning. "You want to
use this Kirsu"--she made herself stumble over the name--"as a
platform?"
"They'd never see us
coming. We could take as much or as
little force as was needed. Stop them in
their tracks."
"Them? The Klingons?"
Lori nodded. "And others perhaps more
frightening."
"The Romulans,"
Christine guessed.
"They are our prime
worry." Lori nodded. "There are others you've never heard
of. We're just now getting the reports
in and they are unsettling to say the least." She smiled again. "Imagine that. Something that can unsettle a werewolf,
Christine."
She didn't like to imagine
that. And Lori didn't sound as if she
was exaggerating. Christine rubbed
between her eyes, where a headache was starting.
"Here, let
me." Lori gently moved Christine's
hands away, then laid her palm on her forehead, the other coming around to rest
on the back of her head.
The pain receded.
"You've been so good at
not even acknowledging Kirsu exists," Lori murmured as she kept working on
the spot. "We respect that kind of
loyalty. And you need to know that we
won't harm the slayers. We have no
quarrel with them. And there's plenty of
room there. For all of us."
"One big happy
family?" Christine tried to pull
away from Lori's hands, but the woman's grip on her tightened.
Lori moved closer, her eyes
darkened, turned black.
Somewhere deep in Christine's
mind, she heard, "Help me.
Please." Christine stopped
struggling, saw something in Lori's expression change. The woman, for just a moment, looked
helpless. And very frightened.
Then she seemed to pull on
the mask of Admiral Ciani again. And
over that the mask of the lascivious werewolf.
She kissed Christine, her lips pressing softly, her mouth opening. Christine didn't try to fight, was still trying
to figure out if what she had seen on Lori's face had been truth or just
another ruse. She let Lori kiss her
until the woman let her go and pushed away from the bench, rising in a fluid
movement.
Their eyes met, Lori's shook
her head slightly, some sort of silent message that Christine wasn't sure she
was receiving fully.
"The Federation needs
Kirsu. Starfleet needs Kirsu. We can work together. On many of our mutual problems. Our resources are immense. We need people like you...and like
Jim." Lori's mouth set in a firm
line. "Think about it."
Christine watched her walk
away. Hadn't this been what she'd told
Jim the slayers needed? A more advanced
solution to the old ways of killing? And
had Lori just offered her a way to make that happen?
-------------------------------
Kirk kept looking over his
shoulder as he and Uhura walked back toward his apartment.
"She'll be
fine." Uhura shook her head. "She's stronger than a werewolf,
right? At least in the daytime?" She looked confused for a moment. "It was simpler before, wasn't it?"
He nodded. It had indeed been simpler before. He sighed.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"
"--It's all right. Things change, people change. This is our life now." Or his anyway. Uhura's and Chris's would be changing as soon
as they reported to the Enterprise.
"This is where I turn
off." She pointed to the street
that would take her to her building.
"You will come to dinner with us tonight."
He noticed she wasn't making
it a question and laughed. "Is it
worth my time to try to argue with you?"
She folded her arms. "I've got all day. Have you?"
"I'll be
there." At her nod of satisfaction,
he said, "Where shall I meet you?"
"We'll come by your
place. Say around seven?"
"That's fine," he
said, waving her off. He waited until
she was well down the street before turning and heading for Weasel's
motel. The walk was more pleasant during
the daytime. No one hustled him; no
vampires threatened him from the shadows.
He headed into the lobby, didn't see his teacher at the desk and called
out into the small back room, "Weasel?"
Wharton walked out. "Weasel's not here."
"You son of a bitch."
Kirk backed into the sunlight.
Wharton rolled his eyes. "I don't mean he's no longer on this
mortal coil. He just took a guest down
to her room. He'll be back in two
shakes, I'm sure." Wharton leaned
against the counter, sipping at a cup of coffee. At Kirk's look, he smiled. "A myth, Admiral. That we can't enjoy anything but blood. Good coffee is good coffee. Or is it that you think Englishmen only drink
tea?"
"How the hell did you
get in here?" Had Wharton tricked
Weasel into inviting him?
"A motel is part of the hospitality
industry. 'Strangers welcome' being an
underlying theme of the business."
He looked at Kirk as if he was slightly stupid.
Kirk backed closer to the
window, deeper into the early afternoon sun.
"How'd you get here in the daylight?"
"Sewers. They go just about everywhere." Wharton smiled. "That's right. Christine's probably never taken you down
there, has she?"
Kirk could feel himself
bristle at the familiar way Wharton said Chris's name. The vampire smiled, as if knowing exactly
what reaction he would prompt with his words.
"She doesn't like
sewers," Wharton said, as if it was a great secret.
Kirk studied the
vampire. He'd only seen him once when
he'd been masquerading as Thompson, had only noticed the ensign because it was
clear he had feelings for Chris.
Everything about Thompson had seemed to fade into the scenery. But now it was impossible not to notice
Wharton.
"Like what you
see?" Wharton's smile was mocking.
"Just analyzing how you
do it. Posture, attitude--I never
realized we could be so misled by things we take for granted as signs of
character."
Wharton nodded. "It's a simple thing. You are what you appear, or so most people
seem to think. You're not quite what you
appear though. It's why I was so
startled by you that night in the cemetery." He laughed at Kirk's expression. "You thought it was hero worship for the
great Kirk from a lowly ensign, perhaps?
I hate to break it to you, but I don't care about that. However, a man filled with so much magic and who
has vampire blood--a master vampire's blood, on top of that--coursing through
his veins? Now that I find...fascinating."
Kirk tried not to wince. Wharton seemed to know a lot about Chris, he
might know just as much about him too.
Might know exactly who that word would conjure up.
"A turn of phrase that
you don't seem to like.
Sorry." Wharton smiled. "You don't need to hide in the
sunshine. I'm not going to hurt
you."
"Right. You'd never want to get rid of a rival for
Christine."
Wharton lifted his
eyebrows. "Are you daft? If I hurt you, she wouldn't rest until she'd
hunted me down and killed me." He
smiled. "If I do win her, it will
be from you, not by default."
"You love her?"
"Not at all." Wharton laughed. "Not like you do. Not like she loves you."
Kirk tried to hide the
satisfaction he felt at those words.
"But it must be
troublesome. She loves you. But she loved Spock. She might have loved Spike. And she can't seem to kill me. Just how many people does she love?"
Kirk shook his head. "She doesn't love you."
"Perhaps not. But I'd certainly be a good match for
her--and for that awesome slayer strength.
I imagine your Vulcan friend was a match for her as well. And Spike would only have found her passion
exhilarating not fearsome. Superhuman to
superhuman. I've never known a slayer
that way--I find the idea quite arousing.
But to be a mere human and face that?
I can see why you won't let yourself give in to your love. I'd be afraid too."
"I'm not afraid."
"Of course not." Wharton's voice was the verbal equivalent of
a pat on the head.
"If you don't love her,
then why pursue her?"
"I need her help. Together we can change the system."
"Yes, you
can." Kirk saw Wharton's surprise
and took advantage of the moment.
"She believes you're right.
Your goals, your plans to free the slayers of the traditions--traditions
that only serve to get them killed--they are noble. I believe in them too. We'll both help you. And we'll find others who will help. But you don't need to kill the other watchers
to do it. You don't need to kill
anyone." He wondered at that last
part. Wharton was a vampire--wasn't
killing people an intrinsic part of the deal?
"Such passion. You could charm a Fyarl
demon, Admiral." Wharton lifted his
cup to him. "It's part of your
magic. That eloquence, that
charisma." He smiled fondly at
Kirk. "But you don't know what you're
talking about. You don't know the
watchers."
"I know Emma." It was a bit of a lie. He didn't know Emma very well. But Chris had said that Wharton and Emma had
been close once.
"I know Emma too. She's one of them. She'll go the way of the Council. Even if this time she has her own
slayer. Even if this time she'll find
out what it feels like to lose--"
"--That's why you want
Chris? To make Emma pay?"
Wharton looked surprised at
what he'd been saying. He shot Kirk an
annoyed look. "Of course not."
"Your own pain was that
bad? You have to share it with her? You have to hurt Chris, the way that little
girl was hurt, that little girl you couldn't protect?" That little girl that Kirk had fought with
the night he'd met Alma. That little
girl that Wharton didn't know had died again for real on the fields of Sekanik.
Wharton didn't know anything about
Kirsu, as far as Kirk knew. Wharton
didn't know about Laura's life after he'd lost her, that she'd gone on. Maybe they could use that somehow?
Wharton slammed down his mug,
the heavy pottery took the beating, didn't crack, but the small bit of coffee that
was left went all over the counter.
"Some trouble here?"
Weasel asked from the doorway. He walked
toward the counter.
"He's a vampire," Kirk
said quickly, grabbing his arm as he passed.
Weasel looked at him as if he
were retarded. "Yeah, Mac. That's evident from the pasty whiteness. Although that could just be an English thing." He pulled free from Kirk's grasp, shooed
Wharton out from behind the counter.
"Glad you like the coffee, Bub. Now I told you, I'm outta
rooms."
"You have
plenty." Wharton smiled. "But I don't want to stay here now
anyway." He shot a look at Kirk. "Too many do-gooders running
around."
"He doesn't want a room. He just came to spin my head, didn't you,
David?" He saw the vampire's eye
narrow at Kirk's use of his first name.
"I can help you. I have enormous
resources at my disposal. And I have
friends who have even more reach. We can
all help you. Give up your little scheme
and let's come up with a real plan."
"My little scheme?"
Kirk shrugged, made his smile
mocking. "Well, as plans go, I'm
not sure of the strategic quality of 'kill them all.' It lacks vision, I think."
Weasel poured himself a cup
of coffee, then sipped at it, watching them both with a smile, as if he was
enjoying a particularly hard-fought tennis match.
"You want vision?"
Kirk smiled again. "It would be nice. Show me how your plan is better than
mine? How killing Emma and the rest of
the watchers will get you the slayers?
You want to help them--that's good.
I want that also because I'm inordinately fond of one of them, as you've
pointed out. But killing the people they
look to for guidance"--he held up a hand as Wharton started to
protest--"for right or wrong, but the people they turn to. How will that win them over? How will that help?" He smiled gently, this time tried to make the
expression one of sympathy not of mockery.
"How will that make you any different than the watchers? You'll be just another killer who wants to
run their lives. To help them, to free
them, you'll need to be different. You'll
need to be better."
Wharton looked into Kirk's
eyes, his expression one of respect.
"I wish I'd met you when I was eighteen, Admiral Kirk." He laughed.
"Of course then you'd have been about the same age, and probably
not full of such sincere wisdom."
Wharton stepped toward him.
"Do you know what I was doing at eighteen? My uncle gave me over to the worst of his kind--the
assassins of the Watcher's Council--and they taught me to kill."
He reached into the sunshine,
seemed to ignore how his hand was sizzling as he grabbed Kirk and pulled him
out of the sun, held him close.
The smell of burning flesh
filled Kirk's head. He tried to pull
away from Wharton and didn't get very far, then he felt an energy kick between
them, pushing the vampire away from him.
Wharton grabbed at his head as he stepped back.
"Non-violence
spell," Weasel said. Kirk noticed
he hadn't moved from the counter. But
his eyes shone a strange green. "No
fighting, Bub," he said to Wharton. "Scares away the paying customers."
The vampire shrugged. He turned back to Kirk. "Do you know how Christine celebrated
her eighteenth birthday?" His expression
darkened. "The eighteenth birthday
is a time of testing for the few slayers who live that long. It's an old tradition, one of the
oldest. They say it's to test the
slayer. But that's a lie. They use it to cull the herd. Not of the old and sick, but of the old and
strong. They get rid of the slayers who
will eventually be a problem. And of
course it's a solution for all those old potential slayers who'll never be
called. At least the ones who the
Council has deemed most likely to be called. The ones who they've trained and who, once it is
clear won't be chosen, are left with no destiny and knowing far too much. A few of them show aptitude to become
watchers, but the rest--the rest are put through the test. And the potentials never survive the test. Never.
And the moment they die, there is one less liability in the world."
"That's barbaric. I
don't believe--"
"--Believe it!" Wharton spat the words at him, seemed to lose
all of his charm, all of his control.
Kirk could almost see a frightened and horrified young man behind the
vampire's ageless features.
His control reasserted itself
almost immediately. "I was there
for Christine's test you see. I'd been
training for a few years, training well and this was a reward of sorts for all my
hard work. I came with my handlers to
stand by Silver as we watched Christine's Cruciamentum. That's what it's called. This test.
It means--"
"--I know what it
means. Torment."
"Yes. Or torture." Wharton shook his head. "We watched from a remote distance. Perfectly safe, of course. While Christine was given drugs to make her
helpless and locked in a sewer with a vampire. Torture indeed."
Kirk could feel his hands
clench.
"Korby
did that to her. Her watcher. The man she loved like a father." Wharton's lips curled. "The man who loved her in ways a father
never should. He drugged her and told
her it was the flu, and then sent her in against the vampire. She was trapped in there. No escape unless she killed the vampire. Is it any wonder she doesn't like the
sewers?" He looked down. "She nearly died. She probably should have died. But she had something, something inside her
that refused to give up. She killed the
vampire. And never realized that her physical
weakness was anything but the flu. She
never knew that when she'd tried to get out of the sewers and into the sunlight
and had found the entrances all locked that Korby and
the other watchers had done that to her.
They used to tell the Slayer the truth once the test was over, used to
even congratulate her for surviving. But after Buffy's time, it went
underground. And so few of the slayers
make it to eighteen--especially during the wars--and then even fewer make it
through the Cruciamentum."
"That was years ago.
Surely."
Wharton shook his head. "It still goes on. And it's illogical in the extreme. If they want to kill a slayer who is giving
them trouble, then why don't they just kill her? But they let Christine resume her life after
winning, even though the watchers would have liked nothing better than to see
her die so that they could get a new, more easily handled slayer in
return. That is the idiocy of their
tradition. She passed the test, so she
must live. While scores more who would
never have questioned the watchers are destined to die in this cursed
test. And why? Because that's how it has always been
done."
"Tradition," Kirk
said softly.
"Tradition. They will never listen to me, or to
you." Wharton smiled grimly. "Keep Christine out of this, and I will
let her live. I will leave her
alone." His smile grew even
grimmer. "But we both know that you
won't be able to do that. Emma has
charmed her, as she once charmed me."'
"Emma still loves
you," Kirk said softly. He had no
idea if it was true. But Wharton seemed
to be a surprisingly sentimental creature.
It might help her for him to think Christine's watcher loved him still.
"Emma can't love. If you think she can, then she's fooled you,
too." Wharton headed for the entrance. He turned back, shot Kirk a pitying look. "Take Christine away for a while. If you love her. If you want her to survive this."
Kirk swallowed hard. "It's her decision to make. If she wants to fight you, I won't stop
her."
Wharton shook his head. "No, you'll help her. You're both fools." He nodded to Weasel. "Nice establishment you have here."
"Thanks. Some folks consider it a rat trap, but I like
it." He didn't look at Kirk until
Wharton was out the door and had ducked down the sewer entrance that was conveniently
located in a shady overhang.
Kirk had never noticed that
before. "Nice class of clientele,
Weasel."
His teacher shrugged. "Not everyday you get someone like him
in. You better watch your step."
Kirk leaned against the
counter. "I was hoping you could
show me some new tricks."
"Tricks?" Weasel shot him a look. "You don't need tricks. You need serious firepower. And a gross of crosses."
"That I can handle. But how are you at resurrecting the
dead? Or at least their image?"
Weasel looked intrigued as he
leaned in. "Tell me what you have
in mind, Mac."
----------------------
Christine sat quietly and watched
the fishermen as they moved down the pier, trying to find the best spot. She knew she should get up, leave the bench
and go do something useful like trying to find out where David was hiding, but
it was so pleasant in the sun. Besides,
she knew where David had moved, or at least how he was getting around. He'd thrown her a large clue earlier when
he'd brought up the sewers.
She tried to repress a
shudder, failed utterly. She hated the
sewers. He could use them all he wanted;
she still would bet money he was living above ground somewhere. Human habits died hard, and David was a
youngster when it came to being undead.
If he hadn't already been lethal, been trained to kill by the watchers,
he'd be no more a threat to her than any other young vampire.
But he had been trained,
molded into a killing machine. And he
was a threat. A big threat. But not her only one. Jim had said that Lori had been the focus of
whatever dark magic had killed Admiral Richter.
Was Nogura using her against her will, making her kill for him? Channeling her power and using it in ways
Lori wouldn't have done on her own?
Christine felt another
shudder go through her. But this time it
wasn't the revulsion she'd felt at the thought of the sewers. Lori left her feeling unsettled in an
entirely different way. And not in the
way she had probably planned. Christine
felt less aroused than cautious and confused.
Lori's mental cry for help had seemed heartfelt, even desperate. But could she be trusted? Could anyone be trusted?
Christine smiled. Jim and Ny could be. She could trust them. But Emma...could she trust her watcher? She cared for her. Didn't want to see her hurt. But she didn't know if she could trust her.
She heard footsteps coming up
behind her. Hard, firm. No-nonsense.
She turned.
Emma smiled at her. She had on dark glasses, but seemed less
frail, less the woman who'd seemed to be hiding in her own house. "Is this seat taken?" She waited, as if her slayer might tell her
to go away.
"Yes, by you." Christine smiled. "Migraine's still bad?"
Emma was staring out at the
water. She nodded distractedly as she
sat down. Then she looked over at
Christine. "Although maybe I should
have had your friend help me too?"
She tried to hide a grin, then started to laugh.
"Oh. You saw that?"
"Quite the little show. I've been here the whole time, over there."
She cocked a thumb back toward the other
side of the pier, opposite where Christine and Lori had walked down and where
Lori had walked back. "I was on my
way home after seeing Tolvar. Sometimes
he gets me offworld medicines--made for heavy grav'ers. They help
my headaches more than the stuff I get here."
Christine nodded. She often had to use double doses of meds on
patients from heavy gravity worlds. Then
she realized that Emma was saying that she had been following her. Christine shook her head--she was really
slipping. At the rate she was going, she
could be tailed by Godzilla and not realize it.
"She seems to be a very
good friend..."
Christine laughed out
loud. She looked over at Emma. "You think?" She shook her head. "I've never been so popular, Emma. All the fiends are putting in their
bids."
"Maybe once word about
Spike got out?" Emma teased.
Christine nodded. She hated that Spike's cover had been blown,
but had known that the Watchers would figure out he wasn't dead once he'd moved
in with her on Earth. That kind of thing
didn't escape the notice of someone like Silver. And Spike and Christine had patrolled
together so many times--had taken so little care not to be seen. "They won't hurt him, will they?"
Emma looked at her. "Hurt Spike, you mean?"
Christine nodded. "The Council, they won't hurt him?"
"No, dear. They won't hurt him." Emma took her hand. "You care so deeply about your
friends. Have I told you how much I
admire that trait in you?" She
turned back to studying the water, but didn't let go of Christine's hand.
"Are you all
right?"
Emma nodded.
They sat in silence for long
time. Then Emma said softly, "Kevin
wants me to try to get information out of you.
I feel that doing so would be a breach of our trust."
Christine squeezed her
hand. "Just ask me what you need to
ask."
"Do you know about
Kirsu?"
Christine closed her eyes,
felt as if she was going to cry. She'd
wanted to trust Emma.
Emma's hand tightened
painfully on hers. "Just say no,
and I'll tell him that you know nothing."
Christine didn't answer her.
"Lie to me,
Christine. Please."
Christine turned to her. "No.
I don't know about Kirsu. What is
it?"
Emma seemed to sigh in
relief. "I don't know either."
Christine looked away. She hadn't asked Emma to lie to her. But she just had. They'd both just lied. When would the lies stop?
They sat in silence
again. Then Emma pulled her hand
away. "Kevin expects me for a
meeting. I have to go."
As she stood up, Christine
said softly, "I found David."
Emma froze, then turned and
studied Christine. She seemed to be
especially interested in her neck.
"I didn't let him bite
me.'
Emma let out breath that
Christine hadn't realized she'd been holding.
"Do you have so little
faith in me?"
Emma shook her head. "He let you go once. I'm just surprised
he'd do it again."
"He killed a special ops
watcher. One who was following me. Did you know about that?'"
Emma suddenly looked
angry. "Following you?" She sat back down on the bench.
Christine leaned toward
her. "Silver set him on me,
Emma. Had him following me as if I was
the enemy. You want me to trust you, and
I do want to. But this makes it
hard."
Emma slipped her dark glasses
off, let Christine see her eyes, see how troubled her expression was. "I didn't know about this. I swear it." She sighed.
"Damn him. He promised me
he'd leave this to me." She touched
Christine's hand. "Leave you to me,
I mean. That he'd stay out of it."
"Well, he hasn't. And it all comes down to this Kirsu thing
he's so interested in."
Emma slipped her glasses back
on. She nodded slowly.
Christine decided to show
Emma that she trusted her. "He's
not the only one who's interested in it.
That woman you just saw. She and
her boss Admiral Nog--"
"--Nogura, yes I know. She works for him."
"How do you know
that?"
Emma sighed again. Then she sat back, turned to the water again. She spoke very softly. "I'm going to tell you a story. Don't look at me and don't react to anything I
say. If anyone is watching us, they'll
see only two friends sitting quietly, enjoying this magnificent day."
Christine said just as
softly, "All right."
"A long time ago, there
was a watcher named Kano Tachikawa."
She seemed to realize Christine had reacted to the name. "Not all watchers are British, you
know?"
"I know," Christine
said, letting her tone become defensive, glad her watcher had assumed she was
just ill informed on her watcher history.
Christine thought of the amulet Spike had given her. Tachikawa had also been inscribed on the back,
just under the Nogura name. She'd
noticed it when she'd had a chance to study the translation.
"Tachikawa was also a
powerful sorcerer. Watchers have so
little to do when not actively training a slayer or a potential that the
Council has always encouraged us to find other skills, other ways to make a
difference--and a living-- if we aren't close enough to London to be involved
in the Council itself. Tachikawa and his
friend Kazuo Nogura didn't need to make a living. They both came from wealthy families. But they fought evil together, long before
their descendants joined forces to create the company that has made the current
heirs even more wealthy."
So magic ran in the Nogura family? Christine decided to just ask. "And is Admiral Nogura a sorcerer?"
"We think so."
"Think? Can't the Council do better than that?"
"His estate is
shielded. By mages and modern technical
means as well. He's powerfully shielded
too. We've never known, and frankly
until Kirsu came up on our sensors we've never had cause to quarrel with him or
worry about it overmuch."
Christine realized Emma was
being extraordinarily honest with her.
"Thank you for trusting me."
"I'm sick of lies and
deception and hiding. Where has it
gotten us?" She reached out,
touched Christine's fingers with her own.
"I could lose you if I keep hiding things from you. And I don't want that. Not now when we've made so much
progress." She pulled her hand away
slowly. She fell silent, as if she'd
lost track of where she'd been.
Christine prompted her
softly, "So these two magicians...?"
"Yes, these two were
quite busy. Then a potential was
identified. It was Kazuo's sister,
Sachiko Nogura." Emma sighed. "Do you understand what a nightmare that
is for any watcher?"
Christine remembered Silver's
confession that he'd hoped his own daughters would be passed by, could imagine
Tachikawa had ached for his friend.
"Yes, I understand."
"They trained her, as
was required. But they never left her
alone. You see, Kano was in love with
her. They hoped to marry. Kazuo supported the union. They kept her as safe as they could."
"But?"
"But a slayer died in
Russia and Sachiko was called. She
embraced her duty. Despite how much her
brother and fiance had tried to shelter her, she was willing
to fulfill her destiny. Unfortunately, she
was not particularly skilled as a slayer--not every girl called has the same
aptitude for fighting. In fact, Kano and
Kazuo had always assumed she'd be passed by because she was so clearly not
suited. After she was called, they broke
with tradition and fought at her side.
They kept her alive.
"Until?" There was always an until, a last fight, for
any slayer. Christine knew that
eventually there would be one for her too.
Or another one, since she'd technically died once already.
"One night the girl was
out, not fighting, just walking home from a friend's house. She never made it home. Her brother found her floating in the river,
barely alive, throat ripped nearly out.
"He took her home,
called Kano. They nursed her back to
health. And vowed that Sachiko would
never have to fight again. The Council
knew nothing of their plans at the time.
They worked in secret, using old magic--magic lost to us now as so much
was lost during the wars. They discovered
Kirsu, a dimension where it was always day, never night. Where a vampire could never survive. Where Kano and Sachiko could live out their
lives in peace."
"Where the council could
never find them?"
"Exactly. Nogura forged an amulet that would hold the
magic in place, make the link with Kirsu stable. Then they created five rings, one for each of
them, and a spare for both the house in Kirsu that they'd built for Kano and
Sachiko to live in, and for the Nogura stronghold here on Earth. The Noguras have
always been practical. Mystical rings
have a way of going missing, or getting knocked hard enough to break. They had planned for everything. As soon as the girl was well enough to be
moved, they would send her to Kirsu."
"They were all set
then?"
"So it seemed. The Council was in the dark. Tachikawa sent in status reports on the
girl's condition. Since she was
recuperating nicely, the Council did not worry.
They expected her to make a full recovery. The lucky survivor of a vampire attack." Emma chuckled softly. "There was just one problem."
"What?"
"It hadn't been a
vampire. Sachiko had been attacked much
farther away from where they'd eventually found her. She'd jumped into the river, which at that
spot was quite fast moving, to get away from the beast that was too strong for
her to fight. She'd nearly bled to death
as she'd floated downstream; the blood had drained away into the water. By the time they'd found her, it had looked
like a vampire attack."
Christine suddenly
understood. "But it was a
werewolf?"
"Precisely." Emma stopped talking for a moment, then she
said softly. "She never told them. Kano thought afterwards, that she didn't tell
anyone because she didn't know what the creature had been--that they had kept
her too sheltered. But it's possible she
did know and was just afraid. At any
rate, her voice was nearly gone after the attack. Talking was difficult. By the time Sachiko had regained her speech,
she'd chosen not to mention that her foe had not been a vampire. But they all found out soon enough. The moon was full before they could send her
to Kirsu with Kano."
"My god." Christine could imagine the damage a werewolf
would do to an unsuspecting household.
"Nogura was out with
Tachikawa fighting some local vampires when Sachiko transformed for the first
time. She killed nearly everyone in the
Nogura stronghold and then ran off."
"Did they catch
her?"
"Yes." Emma sighed.
"And killed her; a new slayer was called soon after. Tachikawa told the Council what had happened. He even told them what they had planned for
his fiancee and him."
"He told them about
Kirsu?"
"Yes. It was lost by then. One of the few servants who survived that
night ran off with the amulet and the rings.
By the time he was found, he'd pawned the jewelry. The Tachikawas and
the Noguras have been looking for it ever
since."
"And it was never
found?"
Emma shook her head. "There've been rumors though. The most recent was about the amulet, just a
few days ago. But the watcher who Kevin
sent to get it was killed." Emma
sighed. "Landon was a good
man. I worked with him when his slayer
died."
"I'm sorry."
Emma shrugged. "As with Starfleet, it is the nature of
our business to sustain loss, is it not?"
She leaned forward, rubbing at her temples. "There have been rumors for years now
about Kirsu. Ever since Helene Donleavy
disappeared, decades ago. Disappeared,
some said, to a slayer heaven. Where the
slayers aren't quite dead. But dead long
enough to have called their successors.
If she did find the rings...even just one of them...?"
Christine didn't answer. She owed LaVelle and Marion and the others as
much if not more than she owed Emma.
"You amassed an army for
your Gotterdammerung, Christine. They
had to come from somewhere. Kevin knows
you're hiding something. And he suspects
it's Kirsu."
"What do you
think?"
"I don't think about
it. I'm here to be your watcher and your
therapist. And I've told him that."
"Why does he want it so
badly?"
"To move the Council
there. To train the girls in safety. No vampires.
Ever."
"Sure. And the older slayers could retire there. If there are no vampires. Ever."
Emma did not reply.
"Guess that wasn't part
of his plan, huh?" Christine shook
her head, then remembered she wasn't supposed to react. "God, don't you see, Emma? It's just his way to get better control of
us. To keep his hold firm on the
Council, on all of this: the slayers and
our stupid traditions and even stupider methods."
"Kevin's not the
enemy."
"If he's not, I don't
know who is." Christine closed her
eyes. She could hear David's words
coming out of her mouth. But was he
wrong?
"That's David
talking. Not you."
"Maybe he makes more
sense than you want to admit, Emma."
"He's brilliant at
screwing with a mind, Christine. He
always has been."
"I know that. But aren't you brilliant at that too? Isn't helping me just a different kind of
screwing around with a mind? Why is okay
when you do it?"
"Don't be absurd. I'm trying to help you."
"Strangely enough, so is
he."
Emma sighed. "Join him then. If he makes so much sense." Christine had never heard her watcher sound
so angry with her.
"I don't want to join
him. Because he plans to hurt you. And I'll never let him do that. You're one of my friends now too, you
know."
Emma slowly sat back against
the bench. "If he hadn't threatened
me, would you care about stopping him?"
"I'm not sure
anymore. If he left you alone..." And left Peter alone. But Emma didn't need to know that Wyndam-Pryce had been helping Christine and her friends. Not when he was far away and out of it now.
"God, Christine. He's gotten to you." Then Emma touched her hand again. "But I actually understand that."
"Because he got to you
too?"
"No. Because you have. If it had been anyone other than you, I
wouldn't have told the story of Kirsu.
And I've defied Kevin for you, refused to get the information he wants
from you."
Christine turned her hand
over, twined her fingers with Emma's. "Quite
a pair, aren't we?"
"Yes, we are."
"What do we do?"
Emma didn't answer. Christine didn't know if that was because she
didn't know or didn't want to say.
They sat there for a long
time. In silence. Watching the water. Just two women enjoying the lovely view.
FIN