by_xandria

Blood Ties: First Blood Ch 21; Epilogue

2009-09-28T21:52:17Z

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Epilogue;

She became aware of noises first…commonplace sounds; people talking quietly, and traffic outside, someone was being paged in a very loud voice…they didn’t have to yell, especially when she had such a headache. Someone should tell them to be quiet…she tried to wake up enough to do so herself, felt the pain as her lips rubbed together like they were chapped and raw and a small sound escaped. She wrinkled her forehead in annoyance, as it happened again, opening her eyes to tell them off, she promptly shut them again in near blindness it was so bright in the room. The sunlight glancing off the pure white walls so strongly it hurt.

It seemed wrong that it should be so bright…she remembered darkness, a black so pure and deep it should have swallowed the world.

“Coreen?” another voice. Why wouldn’t they be quiet and let her sleep?

“Coreen, are you awake? Come on, open your eyes.” But there was something familiar, in the voice and the tone, something that she recognized and that touched and resonated deep within her. A pain deeper the loss, with guilt and blame and heartbreak.

She let her eyes flicker open, the barest of fractions so that her lashes still shielded them from the unbearable light.

“Mike?” she asked after a moment as her eyes slowly adjusted.

He nodded, leaning closer from where he sat beside her bed. But that was strange, this wasn’t her apartment…”Where am I?”

“You’re in a hospital.”

“What happened? Where is Henry? Vicky?” he flinched with the question as if she’d struck him and she automatically tried to reach out a hand but it only moved the barest of distance before she let it fall back, utterly exhausted.

“You….you don’t remember?” he asked, something in the way he wouldn’t look at her and ducked his head warning her that maybe she didn’t want to remember. When she stayed silent he took a deep breath, as if trying to find the courage to speak and then giving up; his voice sounding empty and hollow:

“It was two days ago” the stubble of untrimmed beard that graced his chin, and rumpled unchanged clothes were evidence enough of that, but she stayed quiet.

“I was just getting off duty when it started. I didn’t know what it was right away, there was this sense of dread first…and menace like something was lurking in the dark ready to take you, kill you, or worse…”

“Evil,” she supplied, voice saying the word and conjuring a memory of drawing a circle on a familiar wooden floor.

“Yes.” Mike affirmed. “It was evil…it was as if the world was being swallowed by evil. And then I knew. I don’t know how, but I just knew and suddenly there was no where else I wanted to be when the world ended. I had to be with her. I was ready for it, so long as we were together and the last thing I saw was her eyes….but then…then I lost her. She saved the world from being taken over by Asteroth…but it might as well be Hell for me. Because she’s not here but the world goes on anyways.”

Mike stared vacantly off into middle distance, not looking at Coreen or watching while his words brought it all back to her, not looking at anything really. He pushed himself up, and out of the chair as he heard Coreen take the first shaky breath that was sure to lead to tears, to the raging and pain and grief that would follow. And then he turned and walked out the door. He was done with it. He was done with it all.

Let the world deal with the demons that had slipped through Asteroth’s open door on its own. Let the world burn for all he cared anymore. Vicky Nelson was gone, and with her went all that was worth fighting or saving in this world anyways.

A/N:

Here ends Blood Ties: At First Blood. My second fanfiction in the BT universe.

Thanks again to Tanya Huff for creating such wonderful characters, and Peter Mohan for bring them to life on the screen with the talents of Christina Cox, Dylan Neal, and Kyle Schmid J

Finally--- don’t worry! Our tale doesn’t end here—check out the third fic in my Blood Ties trilogy:

Blood Ties; The Ties that Bind

(chapter 1 up now on fan fiction (dot) net and more to follow) to find out if everyone can pick up and go on or if this is it for our supernatural fighting trio.

Blood Ties: First Blood; Ch 19&20

2009-09-28T21:51:20Z

Blood Ties: At First Blood Ch. 19;

Henry felt the power building from half way across the city, the darkness overwhelming what light that was also quickly fading from sight. The streets were oddly deserted at this early hour, almost as if the people could feel that it wasn’t safe to be out of doors tonight, and as Henry raced down empty alleys there were no animals in sight. Everything was hidden away, trying desperately not to draw attention to themselves, some base instinct, older then tv broadcast warnings and sounded alarms screaming of danger.

If only Henry could believe that this overpowering sense of evil and dread that was filling the air was nothing but paranoia…he’d fallen into a rest more peaceful then any he might have previously known just that morning, only to be awaken before dawn to this sense of horror. He’d tried immediately to convince himself that Vicky wasn’t involved, that she was only out, completely unaware and getting ready to leave with him, but even to his own ears the words sounded false. And as he hurried closer and closer to her office feeling the stench of demons and evil grow with each blurred step, he felt the last of that desperate lie die to settle like ice and snow in his veins.

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“Coreen?” Vicky whispered, her hands holding so tight that Coreen’s fingers were white and bloodless in between her own. She couldn’t push her hands through the circle past the brands on her wrists, as if it was indiscriminately keeping anything tied to Asteroth inside, but she wasn’t about to let on to Coreen. They had to finish this now no matter what the cost.

“I can’t say the spell…” Coreen confessed, tears gathering in her eyes and making the clean lines of black eyeliner smudge and flow.

“Of course you can’t say the spell my child,” Asteroth mocked from behind them, opening up his arms wide to touch and spark off the outside of the circle. “You think you could stand against all the force of hell? Pride is definitely my favorite sin,” he smirked.

“Vicky, I’m sorry…” Coreen whispered, letting the tears fall as it sunk in. She’d pushed Vicky to let her to the spell, had used her guilt and single-mindedness to manipulate her into it and because of that the world was about to be subjected to the worst horrors imaginable…they’d released hell onto earth.

“Try again,” Vicky insisted, voice strong with emotion as she refused to let Coreen be suckered into Asteroth’s game. This was just another trick, another lie of his to get them to stop believing that they could win long enough for him to bring hell through that doorway. Well she wasn’t falling for it, she’d fight until there was nothing left of her for him to take.

“I’ll take it all,” he hissed, hearing her unspoken vow and raising his hands and fire burst against the magic dome, swirling against the barrier and turning the snowflakes into ash.

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“Coreen, “ Vicky choked, and fought not to breathe, lest the flame and smoke fill her mouth and lungs. If she could only get Coreen to finish the spell…

Coreen felt the fire lick at her hands, the heat bringing blisters on her fingers to match the ones on her lips, but she didn’t let go of Vicky.

“Coreen! Finish the spell! ” a new voice shouted what Vicky could not, bringing a rush of power and cool air into the room like a balm. And suddenly Henry was there, his hands reaching around Coreen to hold onto Vicky’s inside the circle.

The flames seemed to vanish as quickly as they had erupted, almost like they had been banished by Henry’s mere presence, but Vicky could feel the quiet watchfulness in the slow burning of her marks that told her it was still Asteroth’s power that controlled the flames.

“Henry Fitzroy, can that possibly be you?” the demon drawled conversationally. “It’s been a long time…the years have been kind I see, but I think they might have made you soft. This concern with humanity is so unlike your kind. Self preservation is more your tune.”

Henry snarled, baring his teeth but refusing to be bated with how he’d sacrificed those who tried to sacrifice him in the past. “Finish the spell Coreen,” he growled, eyes burning with hate and warning at the demon who stood inside a circle he could not cross.

“I can’t,” she choked on sobs that closed off her throat.

“Yes you can,” Vicky said, trying to put the strength of her belief in Coreen into her voice as raw and horse as it emerged. “He only wants you to believe that you can’t.”

Coreen shook her head, tears falling. She’d failed them….she couldn’t do it. “The power’s gone…”

“It’s not gone Coreen,” Asteroth said, and she shivered as the demon spoke her name. “It’s just not yours anymore.”

He started to speak, the power that eluded her so plain and clear in his voice. But instead of calling words that would close the door, Coreen recognized what he spoke and realized the full depth of her failure. Because what he called were not words of power or control, but names. Names of all the demons that she and Vicky had researched; demon’s of death and blindness, of fire and drowning, demons of pain and famine that he was calling into the world through a door that she had opened wide for him.

And the only thing that stood barring that door was the very thin bones, and skin and blood that made up the form of Vicky Nelson, caught within a circle of Coreen’s making.

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Henry snarled and threw himself at Asteroth, only to crash against the boundary of the circle—what held the demon in was just as effective at holding him out it appeared. Which meant that there was no way that he could stop what was happening. He cursed in anger—at himself for being late, for believing Vicky when she said she’d leave it alone, leave with him, at Coreen for being so stupid and blind to believe that this would work…at Vicky for believing it and risking their future on this hopeless plan.

He knelt reaching as close to the edge of the circle as he could and folding his hands over Vicky and Coreen’s again. Her wrists remained secured at the very line of circle, but he enfolded what he could of her fingers.

“Coreen, try again,” he said, his tone hard and commanding as he looked at where Vicky knelt.

She nodded at him, “try Coreen,” she seconded.

“Yes, try Coreen,” the demon mocked from inside the circle, pausing in his recitation long enough to quash what small confidence she was gaining. “Try like you tried to stop me from hurting them before, try like you tried when I was inside of you….try like when you tried to stop me from cutting out your heart.” And with those words she felt the tearing pain again as the blade ripped into her skin and through cartilage and bone.

“It’s not real…it’s not real,” she whispered to herself, eyes squeezed shut to block out of the memory, but she opened her eyes at the feeling of wetness on her chest—it felt too real to ignore—and cried out at the spreading red stain across her shirt over her heart.

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Mike looked out through the blinds covering the windows of the office and cutting the outside world into even horizontal bars. He could feel it. The evil soaking into his skin as the night grew darker and a sense of dread permeating deep and settling like a lump of lead in his stomach. Something was going on out there…he could feel it.

And from the crowd of cops lingering silent and watchful behind him, he knew that they could feel it too.

Only unlike him they had no idea what was happening. The fear and dread overcoming them making the squad room feel like it did before they were preparing for a big raid where everyone knew that something horrible was about to happen but didn’t know what, or who might be returning unscathed. But this time Mike had a feeling that not a single one of them was going to make it out of this one, and they weren’t even at ground zero.

As he thought of who must be, that lump of lead grew larger and colder within him. And he couldn’t ignore the restless feeling that he was in exactly the wrong place.

Why was he standing here, huddling inside behind doors where it was safe while she faced possibly the greatest danger yet? For a job? Safety and security? –he looked over his shoulder at where Kate stood, dark hair straight and pulled back in a neat orderly ponytail, clothes pressed to perfect edges and tailored to perfection—for something easy and straightforward?

Love was messy and complicated and frustrating and hard headed…but there was nothing else in the world like it.

He looked out the windows again, the swath of night sky that was so dark it was as if the night had eaten the stars, swallowing them whole. Something was happening out there…and he was in exactly the wrong place.

Mike turned, hand slipping up under his jacket to check his gun and the extra clip on his belt before turning and pushing his way through the people who were supposed to be his colleagues and out the door.

“Mike!”

He didn’t turn at the voice behind him, opening the outer doors to the squad room and walking out into the hall.

“Mike wait!” a hand grabbed his jacket and turned him around. “You can’t go out there,” Kate said, as if the reason why should be obvious to anyone with eyes and a brain that was still functioning. And from the look she gave him it was clear that she was having serious doubts about his.

“I have to.”

“Mike…I know that you feel like you have to…we all do, we took an oath to serve and protect. But this…this…whatever this is..” she struggled for words to explain it, the rational cops part of her mind rejecting such superstitious words as ‘magic’ and ‘evil’ but her body knew the truth. “You can’t go out there Mike,” she tried again to find the right words to make him stay, to let him and his conscious off the hook.

“I have to,” he said again, it was as much of an explanation as he could offer—because he did know what was out there in the dark, and despite that, despite everything, he just had to go.

Kate looked up at him again and her hand fell from his sleeve.

“This is about her, isn’t it? Vicky.”

Mike looked back at her, his clear eyes far away as if miles separated them already. “Yes, it is,” he answered. “It’s always been her.”

Blood Ties: At First Blood. Ch. 20;

Coreen felt the pain ripping through her ribcage as the knife cut in so deeply she could barely breathe. It was happening again…oh God, please not again…but the blood was sticky against her chest, making the fabric of her shirt cling and she could smell the acrid tang of it in the air. The feeling of fingers pulling open her skin and sinking in to squeeze and crush her heart, made her gasp and reel back in pain.

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“Coreen?” Vicky asked with concern as her hand fell away from theirs and she clutched at her chest in pain.

“Coreen what is it?” Vicky pushed her hands as far as they could reach outside the circle, but it wasn’t far enough. Coreen huddled right outside of her grasp.

“Henry what’s going on?” Vicky looked up to where Henry knelt, still holding fast onto her wrist.

He met her gaze and forced his fingers to open and let go of her hand, moving over to where Coreen lay. He touched her gently but she flinched away, hands coming out to bar him away from her and protect her chest. She was whispering something so quietly he could barely hear it over and over again, like a mantra or a prayer. He caught the odd words…please, no, blood, not again.

“Something about blood?” he asked, turning to look at Vicky and beyond her to where Asteroth stood in the center of the circle, hands wide as darkness floated up around him to swirl and push the boundaries of the circle outwards.

“Blood?”

“I don’t see or smell any,” Henry said confused.

Asteroth paused in his recitation long enough to laugh down at where they all sat; Vicky as close to the boundaries of the circle as she could get, Henry refusing to move far from her side and Coreen locked in some horror of her own none of them could break through.

“What are you doing to her?” Vicky demanded, standing up to face him, her anger for the moment overriding any fear.

“Me?” Asteroth asked with mock innocence, the swirling hoard of demons pausing for a moment before rearranging around him like a dark aura. “I’m doing nothing, this is all your doing.”

“Bull shit,” she accused. “I would never hurt her.”

“Never? Oh I don’t think so,” Asteroth moved forwards so that he was close enough to touch her but Vicky still held her ground. “You’re the one who brought her back after all.”

“I couldn’t let her die,” Vicky said, something inside her beginning to shrink down and fold within itself and trepidation taking hold.

“You couldn’t, you, you, you. This is what it’s all about with you isn’t it? You didn’t think about what you might be bringing her back to, did you?”

“Don’t listen to him Vicky!” Henry shouted, caught between Coreen’s rocking form and the edge of the circle that held Vicky prisoner. “He’s a demon, they lie.”

“Am I lying Vicky?” Asteroth asked her quietly, moving closer still until she could see the red flecks that danced at the depths of his eyes even while they didn’t bleed. “Or did you do this for you, out of selfishness and need for what you wanted. You didn’t think about the pain and fear that she’d face coming back. Oh no, you didn’t think about it, not how much it would hurt her to track down every case you’ve been working on, how in every one of their eyes she’d see both herself and me and remember it again. How the dreams would haunt her at night, the guilt during the day. You didn’t think about it even once.”

“You bastard,” Vicky choked out around the lump that had taken up most of the room in her throat and threatened to choke her.

“Not I,” he said again, fingers reaching out to trace a tear off her cheek before turning away. “What she faces is not my doing, but yours. You brought her back and now she has to live with her past. Or die from it.”

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Vicky stood there a moment longer, paralyzed by his words, before he spoke again—the sound of demon names ringing loud into the growing storm and making her move again.

“Coreen, look at me,” Vicky forced herself to ignore the way her voice shook, trying to make Coreen hear her.

But it didn’t seem to have any effect, Coreen lay rocking back and forth just outside her reach.

“Henry?” Vicky looked to him, desperation only barely hiding in her eyes.

“I don’t know what’s she’s facing, what he’s making her believe is happening right now…it might be dangerous to try and drag her out of the memory.”

“More dangerous then if we don’t?” Vicky asked, looking around her to the growing darkness as more and more demons emerged from the door to hell.

“I don’t know what might happen,” Henry warned, trying to caution Vicky and protect her at the same time—this might work, or it might as easily drive Coreen mad. He didn’t know what past memory she faced, none of them knew everything that she’s been forced to do or see at the demon’s bidding, but whatever it was, he hoped that whatever he did wasn’t going to be worse.

Vicky nodded at him, hands splayed wide in helplessness against the floor. “We have to.”

Henry nodded back and reached for Coreen, his hands closing gently over her arms and urging her to the edge of the circle again, but at the first touch she started to scream as if in pain.

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The fist caught Henry unprepared and sent him crashing to floor a few feet away from Coreen.

“Mike?” Vicky asked, peering out and wondering for a moment if all the magic swirling around her was making her see things too or if Mike was really here?

“What the hell is going on Vic?” he asked with just the right amount of concern and exasperation that there wasn’t any doubt it was really him.

“It’s…it’s..” she wanted to tell him that it was Asteroth, that he was torturing Coreen somehow with visions of her past but suddenly she wasn’t so sure that he was the one to blame. She’s been nearly obsessed with this quest to find him and send him back to hell, she hadn’t much noticed or cared if Coreen was being torn apart in the process.

“She’s re-living some memory from the past,” Henry said, sitting up and rubbing at his jaw. “Something about blood and not again?”

“And what you couldn’t figure out that maybe it might be a bad idea to literally shake her out of it bat-boy?” Mike said, his voice rich with sarcasm as he approached Coreen slowly with caution and knelt in front of her.

“Coreen?” he asked, eliciting only a small whimper.

She was curled in on herself, arms crossed protectively over her chest and rocking back and forth slightly. He’d seen the same thing with child victims of rape or abuse, and proceeded gently since he was pretty sure of which memory she was reliving.

“Coreen, I need you to listen to me,” he said again, putting the barest hint of force into his voice, but being careful not to actually touch her. “What you’re seeing, what you’re feeling it isn’t real. It’s just a memory, it’s in the past and you survived it. You survived this—the pain and the fear, it will always be a part of you” and now he did reach out and brought her hand up, forcing it to move against the resistance of terror that froze her muscles in place and resting it over her heart, where she could feel the thick ridge of scar tissue through the thin shirt. “But it doesn’t have to control you. It will always be with you, but you can choose whether or not it defines who you are—whether it stops you from living or whether you live to stop it.”

“Come back to us Coreen,” Vicky said moving her hand to lay over Coreen’s where it rested against the floor. “You were strong enough to survive this once, strong enough to come to work with me every day and fight to prevent it from happening to anyone else, you can do it.”

Mike’s hand moved to rest of hers and Vicky realized at the slight pressure that she was crying. She looked up and met his eyes, a look passing between them and suddenly all the months, all the fights and unreturned phone calls didn’t matter anymore—he was with her and always would be.

Henry stirred drawing her attention again and the familiar tug pulled at something inside of her as he moved to put his hand over hers and Coreen’s as well.

“If anyone can do this, you can Coreen,” he said, the truth of it coming clearly through in his tone—she’d opened this door, it was impossible for anyone else to close it now.

Vicky’s breath caught as Coreen’s fingers turned and held onto hers as well, the tight pressure giving her hope again that she hadn’t even realized she’d lost.

Coreen took a shaky breath and looked down at where their hands were all locked together, all four of them holding tight to Vicky and refusing to let go. She drew strength from the sight and looked up again to where Asteroth waited.

“Go to hell,” she said quietly but full of force and conviction and started to speak…but oh it was hard, so hard just to bring each syllable to lit onto her tongue and then excruciatingly painful to force it out past her lips and hear it sound with force into the air. She could feel it drawing strength from her, and without the added power from the ritual to bolster her, the only thing that it could take from was herself…her life. But it was working, she could feel it working and see with each word how the circle shriveled and shrank in on itself, freeing inch after inch of Vicky’s golden skin from its grasp as first her wrists emerged into Henry and Mike’s waiting hands, then arms and elbows…

But it was hard…and Asteroth was fighting her, the power of hell and all the demons backing him, driving him to silence her and free them. She felt herself stutter over a word, her voice breaking on the final syllable and she gasped, unable to draw enough air into her weakened and dying body to continue…but she had to try, because the circle was pushing outwards again, slowly swallowing up the small part of Vicky that she’d worked so hard to free.

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Vicky watched as Coreen slowly sagged back against the supporting arms of Henry and Mike who stood behind her, basically holding her up at this point. She could see the strain matched equally with determination shining out of Coreen’s eyes, the fierceness that she would fight to her last breath for her friends and to stop Asteroth from winning his way into the world…

but Vicky could also see that, that would be the cost as well. Coreen was spending her life, drawing on the very essence that sustained her to feed the magic. And it wasn’t going to be enough.

Vicky could see that even while Coreen fought and gasped over the foreign syllables of the magic that would close the door and pull Asteroth back into hell, hell was pushing back.

She felt the pressure of their hands holding her tight, refusing to let her go—every last one of them, even if it meant the end of the world. And she loved them for it, but she couldn’t put herself, her own selfish desires first anymore. Because Asteroth had been right—it had all, all of it, from very beginning of bringing Coreen back, to agreeing to leave with Henry and trying to win Mike back, all of it had been about her.

She couldn’t let them sacrifice everything for her again—she couldn’t let herself do that again.

“Vic…no,” Mike said, reading every line of her clearly before she even looked up to meet his eyes, her tears gone.

She looked to Henry then and felt a twinge of regret at the pure depth of loss and pain that was reflected through his eyes. She wished there was time to tell him how much she had really wanted to leave with him, but she could feel the storm coming to a head behind her again and knew that the time for words and explanations had passed long ago. He had forever to find someone who could take the hurt of today from him, and she hoped that it wouldn’t take him long to find her.

Meeting Coreen’s eyes was hard, far harder then she imagined. Their brown was obscured by tears and she refused to give up even now, her lips bleeding and breaking with the force of the words she was trying to give her life to speak. This would be hard for her, Vicky knew, but she also knew that she’d survive—which was more then could be said of many many people if Vicky didn’t stop this now. She managed to find a small smile for Coreen as she slowly pulled her hand out from underneath theirs, eyes coming back full circle to rest on Mike again.

He didn’t look at her with pain or loss or determination. His eyes were empty, they made no claim or judgment, only clear acceptance…and if there was a little sadness in them, if they shone more then usual then she was sure that it was only her own eyes reflecting back at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, emotion breaking the words before she turned and reached for Asteroth, the marks on her wrists burning with fire hot enough to melt the ash and snow that swirled around her. When her fingers touched his flesh the fire exploded, rushing to meet the answering power in the storm and drawing it down and over the two of them where they stood.

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The light was so bright it was blinding, a cold so deep it burned and even after they had to close their eyes—Henry holding out the longest but even he couldn’t withstand the power in the gale that rushed around them seeking any escape.

And then just as quickly it was gone.

They stood up slowly, the two men hanging onto each other for support even though the unnatural wind no longer buffeted at them, the girl collapsed at their feet, motionless from the force of the magic and the storm. There was a smell of ozone in the air and ash slowly floated to the floor around them.

But the room was otherwise empty; the furniture gone as if never had existed. The only sign that anything had every happened in this room was the bare floor burned dark black in the center of a nearly perfect burnt circle. But it too was empty, Asteroth and Vicky had vanished and the doorway was gone, closed.

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---------------FIN-----------------

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Blood Ties: First Blood; Ch 17&18

2009-09-28T21:50:30Z

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 17

Vicky paced back and forth in front of the window, looking out at each pass to see the familiar view from her office window; the streets were busy with the late afternoon crowd, people hurrying to get home, or finish the last errands of the day. The hot dog vendor on the corner was doing good business as the overworked ran out of their tall office building for a quick and cheap dinner before heading back in—looks like it was going to be a late night for more then just her.

“I think we’re almost done,” Coreen’s voice behind her drew her attention away from the window and back to what she was trying to avoid thinking about.

Coreen stood on the edge of a red circle drawn in the center of the floor of the back office. Her desk and chairs had been pushed against the walls to make room for the nearly four foot large diameter to be drawn in full. At four points around the circle lay little bowls—one of water, another of dirt, wood chips filled the third and the last was empty. Something about magic and the 4 corners or elements…Vicky didn’t entirely understand and she wasn’t particularly interested in learning, she just wanted this all to be over now. Coreen said it was necessary, and that’s all she needed to know.

“Now we just wait until moonrise.”

“Great,” Vicky murmured, turning back to the window again. It would be another hour at least before the sun even set, another after that before the moon rose fully into the sky. They were lucky in a way that it was still so early in the season—the days were still short. They used to hate that as cops—more darkness and longer nights meant more opportunities for people to commit crimes…lately she found herself looking forward to nightfall.

It was night when Henry was awake. In the night that they would make their life together…still as the sun glowed softly with the last of the afternoon, touching everything with gold, she thought that there were some things she’d miss about the day.

She pushed herself away from the windowsill, suddenly decisive.

“There’s something I have to do, it’ll only take a hour or two and then I’ll be back,” she said grabbing her coat and hurrying out the door.

“Vicky!” Coreen called after her, “Don’t be late!”

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Vicky’s heart was pounding as she stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hallway. She’d done this a million times before, so why was she so nervous now?

Because this isn’t like any of the other times, a little voice whispered inside her head. This time they hadn’t spoken in weeks, had argued nearly every conversation for months before that…she couldn’t expect it to be like good old times. But she also couldn’t leave without even saying goodbye.

She raised her hand, pausing once more with hesitation, her hand held suspended in the air in front of his door.

She jumped as laughter sounded loud in the hallway and the elevator door beeped open again.

Her heart stopped pounding then, stopped beating all together in fact, as Mike came walking down the hall, laughing and joking and looking so carefree…she hadn’t seen him look like that in a very long time. It was as if some invisible crushing weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

But the arm connected to those shoulders was around someone else, and she was holding onto his waist, fingers looped into his belt and leaning into him, smiling and laughing…and it hurt that the person wasn’t her.

“Vicky?” Kate asked, seeing her first. She tried not to notice the way Mike stiffened and the relaxed stance of his body automatically tensed.

“Vic,” the single syllable of her name sounded foreign.

“Hi Mike…Kate.” She had been so sure before, now all that confidence collapsed in under the weight of reality. How had she believed that it could ever be easy and uncomplicated between them, even in this?

“Can we talk? Just for a second?” she asked, barely an inch from begging.

“Why don’t I make us some tea and we can look at that file?” Kate suggested, taking the keys easily from his hand and moving discretely past Vicky to open the door and go into Mike’s apartment.

They were along in the hallway now, but suddenly Vicky couldn’t think of what to say. There were a million things that she wanted to tell him, but none of them that she wanted to be the last. Was it supposed to be this hard?

“What you want Vicky?” Mike said, his tone implying clearly that whatever last bit of patience he had for her tonight was nearly gone.

“I just…you know, it’s not important. I just wanted to see you I guess.” She tried to smile but failed and so nervously brushed back at her hair letting it fall into her eyes.

Mike nodded, covering his confusion. “You show up out of no where, tonight, just to say hi?”

“Yeah, never had good timing did I?” she joked, but heard the edge of hurt in her voice and so quickly brushed past him. “but you’re busy, so I should just go.”

“Probably best,” Mike said briefly, moving to lean against the door and crossing his arms.

“Yeah…well, then I guess there’s nothing else to say,” she fumbled, suddenly not wanting to turn and walk away.

“Guess not.”

“Good bye Mike,” she said trying one last time, and failing to actually smile before turning and walking back down the hall, feeling his eyes on her the whole way while she pushed the elevator button and waited for it to arrive. She collapsed back against the cool mirrored interior as the doors slowly slid closed. It was for the best, she kept telling herself as the elevator moved downwards, mirroring the sinking feeling in her stomach.

Vicky took a deep breath and stepped out into the last of the sunlight, reaching into her pocket and punching the speed dial on her cell phone.

“Coreen, I’m on my way back. Lets get this over with.”

Blood Ties: At First Blood Ch. 18;

Coreen felt the power rush over her with every word, the dark and heady intoxication filling her and flooding every vein until she thought she must burst with the confidence and exhilaration it gave her. Was this was Henry felt when he tasted blood? The power of life and death literally in her hands…nothing could ever compare with this…she felt like she could do anything. Could bend the world to her will if she but wished it.

She laughed with glee and reveled in the power that the spell gave her, pushing her fingers against the floor and feeling the wood bend and give way creating a gateway under their pressure.

“Coreen?” Vicky asked, creeping forward to the very inside edge of the blood red circle that enclosed her off from the rest of the office-- and where Coreen sat on the outside. She had to be on the inside to draw Asteroth in, but suddenly she felt so isolated and alone. The lines wavered and rippled against the light wood of the floor as if they were drawn on water that was being tossed in a storm and wind coming from where Coreen knelt, book before her.

Vicky felt a chill as Coreen laughed at the power that she was drawing upon, the sound touching a nerve inside her and evoking echoes of another time when something else had looked out of Coreen’s eyes with that much power and laughed like that…

“Coreen!” Vicky shouted in what was a sudden gale of wind in the office, the bucking wood floor throwing her to her hands and knees. This had been a mistake…why didn’t she see it? Why had she said they could go ahead?

“Coreen!” she shouted it again, trying to force her voice to be heard and penetrate the wind.

Coreen felt Vicky’s cry like some buzzing insect, trying to draw her attention from her play and power and almost ignored it, but something made her pause. She’d heard that tone before…a long time ago it seemed, but it became clearer as she focused on it. There was pain in the sound, an undercurrent of loss, but what touched her and made her raise her head was the heartbreak…it was how Vicky had sounded when she thought that Coreen was dead at Asteroth’s doing.

Her eyes fought to focus on the room around her, fought to lessen the wind and storm of magic that raged trapped inside the circle that Vicky still inhabited, to calm it enough to see the golden form of her friend. Vicky was hunched against the floor only a few feet in front of Coreen, the wind ripping at her hair, and the floor swirling and bulging with the force of hell beneath her.

“Coreen!” Vicky yelled when she saw her lift her head, and found something familiar looking back from her brown eyes…and if there was something unfamiliar too, she tried not to dwell on that. “The spell Coreen!” she shouted. “Read the spell, bind him to the circle!”

Coreen forced her head to nod, the movement stiff and hard as if the air was particularly dense. Her eyes found the words inscribed on the pages in front of her and she pushed the latin words off her tongue, the syllables hard and draining the power that had built up within her with every sound.

Vicky bit her lip against the pain as Coreen started to speak, the strange and unfamiliar language reaching her ears somehow even through the storm of magic and creating a build up of electric charge within the circle, like lightening was about to strike. Vicky could feel her hair begin to lift and collect static and she pressed her palms to the floor to keep them steady.

She kept her eyes locked on Coreen’s form, not noticing how her blood pooled under her fingers and ran in unnatural rivulets to combine with the outer circle, the brands on her wrists burning with fire and leaking blood.

Coreen paused, her tongue and lips blistering from the power she poured out of herself with every word, she drew breath to continue and then stopped. Why should she give up everything? This was her power now, hers to do with what she wanted…and didn’t she deserve it? After everything that she’d suffered at the demons hands, everything that Vicky had allowed her to suffer, had kept dragging her back to day after day in this endless quest. And now asking her to give up this power, this gift that finally made her feel safe and whole again after having her life ripped apart by that demon time after time?

She looked up from the page, her eyes black and staring out at Vicky with hate.

“Coreen, only a little more and then this is will over, finally over…” Vicky gasped as the floor lurched underneath her again, hands curling hard against the wood and feeling her nails break. “Please, Coreen… come on… please..”

And the sound of Vicky’s voice drew her back again, a second time reaching her through the haze and blur of magic that was twisting around and around the circle, but they both knew that there wouldn’t be a third time. Coreen took a breath and tried to fill herself with the love and strength she found in Vicky to replace the emptiness and resentment that grew and grew in equal proportions as her words continued to fill and ripple through the air.

Vicky cried out as the last syllables sounded and split the air like thunder, the charge finally breaking over her like lightening and leaving her blind in its wake, bright and white and burning cold…

---------------------------------------------------------------

Vicky opened her eyes to blowing snow, watching it float and swirl in some soft breeze it would almost have been unbearably beautiful if it hadn’t been falling in the wrong direction. It was being pulled up from the floor underneath her hands and feet to disappear somewhere above her head against the slightly water stained plaster of her office ceiling.

“I would have come had you but asked,” said a deep voice from behind her and she turned, leaving a trail of blood droplets red against the white snow as her hand moved out protectively.

“Asteroth…” she whispered. He was still in the body of Raymond Castiel, the priest who Henry had found to do the exorcism on Coreen, and Vicky found herself hating the irony of how pure the dark clothes and white collar looked in the gently blowing snow.

He bowed slightly, inclining his head to her while never loosing her gaze.

“The one and only, and I must say I’m impressed,” he whistled looked around and drew his fingers in the air at the edge of the circle causing sparks to fly, fire and snow hissing in the air. “I knew you were going to be special Vicky, I wouldn’t have chosen you otherwise, but this? This is far beyond what I ever expected.”

“Surprised you didn’t we you bastard?” Coreen spit, sitting up and trying not to choke on the taste of blood that filled her mouth as the blisters over her lips burst.

But Asteroth didn’t even glance her way, his whole vision taken up solely with Vicky Nelson finally in his reach.

“You’ve fought hard,” he acknowledged, partly to see the fire flare in her eyes in response and partly to pay witness to the truth. “Far harder then I would have ever expected, but it’s over now. We’re done with the games, time to come to me, time to come home,” he said, holding out his hand to Vicky, palm open in invitation.

And she felt the answering burning and itching of the skin on her own wrists, it twitched and shivered to answer him, blood flowing again to drip into the snow. He reached out and caught a drop before it could stain the white carpet beneath them, bringing it to his lips tasting her. Vicky looked away sickened, hating how he turned what had been so sensual between her and Henry into something obscene and dark.

“Come home Vicky…”

“Not this time,” Coreen interrupted, her voice twisted with hate and darkness as she leaned towards the edge of the circle. “This time it’s you who’s going home—right back to hell.” Coreen flipped the page, revealing the last of the spell that would shut the gateway they’d opened to hell and pull Asteroth back as it closed.

“Vicky!” she shouted, holding out her hand and feeling her lips form the beginning syllables of the final verse as Vicky’s fingers intertwined with her own.

But nothing came out…she licked her lips and tried again, voice straining to push the harsh sounds out her throat but if it had been hard before with all the power behind her, it was now impossible drained and empty as she was. She looked up, her eyes finding Vicky’s with horror as she realized that she couldn’t finish the spell. They were standing on an open doorway to hell and she couldn’t speak the words with enough power to close the door and send him back.

Blood Ties: First Blood Ch 15&16

2009-09-28T21:49:26Z

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 15;

Vicky shut the door on Coreen’s retreating form and leaned her forehead against it, feeling the cold hardness of the wood press into her skin over and over as she quietly banged her head against its surface.

How could she have agreed to let Coreen go ahead with this? Even just the preparing was risky, and they hadn’t even made a firm decision yet. They’d spent most of the morning discussing the spell, Vicky pointing out the numerous holes and gaps in information and Coreen assuring her that there would be more then enough safeguards by the time they were ready to go ahead….it sounded like it might work, but she hated trusting in magic, something about it just made her skin crawl… and, she thought as she turned around and slid down the door to sit on the floor staring into the other room, she knew that Henry would never approve.

Magic was what had finally driven a wedge between them before…oh you could say that there had been a lot of little things—other women, demons and hell—but it was really magic all along. It had all started when she’d used his blood and magic to save his life. Now here she was again, using her blood and the marks to save him again. She didn’t’ know if their new and fragile relationship could withstand that…hell, she didn’t’ even know if what they had was a relationship!

Sure, he’d come back and saved her and they’d spend the night together, but she wasn’t some fainting damsel virgin expecting that it would be happily ever after forever for them. She knew that it could have just been an emotional reaction to almost dying, to seeing each other again…although it hurt to even think the words…and with Henry still asleep they hadn’t had a chance to talk about what this might mean…or what they wanted it to mean. Things were just happening so damn fast…

Coreen said it would take a day or two to get everything ready. That gave her some time to think right?

Vicky jumped as her cell phone rang, the ringtone loud in the silence of the room. She leaned forwards a little ways so that she could reach where she’d left her coat draped over the edge of a chair, rummaging in the pockets before pulling it out. Sometimes it paid to be a little messy.

“Hello?” she answered automatically, for the moment forgetting all about her day job and standard ‘Vicky Nelson Investigations’ tagline that usually followed.

“Vicky what the fuck is going on?”

“Mike?” she asked incredulous…it couldn’t be him, they hadn’t spoken in months, not really anyways. But the sound of his voice—even harsh with suppressed anger on the other end of the phone was unmistakable.

“Yeah it’s me,” he answered, his tone softening at the surprise in her voice. It really had been too long, and here he was calling her up out of the blue. He didn’t blame her for being surprised, but he didn’t have the patience or the time to deal with it right now.

“It’s really you…” Vicky felt as if the world had turned back underneath her, and the last few months had been a bad dream…Henry was here, and Mike and her were speaking again…it would all be alright like it had been before.

“Vicky—I need to know about this girl-- Ann, you visited her in the mental hospital. Why?”

“What?” Vicky said, his words slapping her out of her daydream so suddenly it stung.

“Ann Lywellin,” Mike said again, his words hard and cold. “Why did you go see her?”

“Ah…a case…” she stammered, “a client of mine is a distant family member, they wanted some answers” she lied. “Why?”

“Because when she was in the middle of a triple homicide last night it became my case.”

“Mike what happened? Where is she?” Vicky asked, suddenly all hazy thoughts about the past swept from her mind. That girl was connected to Asteroth, possibly possessed by some more of his demon friends, if she was out there was no telling what kind of damage she could do.

“Right about now…” Mike stalled as if carefully judging the time to be accurate before he answered. “Probably just making it onto Doctor Modhaven’s “to do’ list. She went all bloody Mary on herself after killing the nurse and doctor on duty.”

“God…” Vicky whispered, not sure whether she was praying for help or just horrified. “He killed her…”

“Vicky she killed them. There’s no “he” involved here.”

“You don’t understand…” Vicky said quietly, glad that she was sitting down. Asteroth had been in that girl, had forced her to do those horrible things and probably driven her insane before leaving her as a play thing for the other demons who were still trapped in hell to use…no matter what anyone said, Vicky knew he’d been the real one to kill her. She was just a child…

“No, I don’t want to understand, and you know what? It doesn’t matter,” Mike said, not letting the defeat he heard in her voice reach him and quench the anger that had been driving him most of the day. “All I need is why you were there for the report, I got that so we’re done.”

“Mike wait,” Vicky said hearing the click of the phone as he hung up and then only silence on the line.

She punched the off button on her phone and threw it across the room to where it hit the wall and bounced to the floor.

What had happened between them?

She’d always thought that the one person that she could always count on in this world would be Mike Celluci. They’d known each other practically forever, her whole life as cop right from the academy, through their first assignment and then being partners…she’d thought that it was a history that no one would be able to break. But evidently she’d been wrong. Someone had been able to come between them, but it hadn’t been who she was expecting cause in the end it wasn’t Henry….it was Asteroth.

He’d ripped into their quiet sheltered world and exposed them to real evil, a kind of darkness that their lives in the police force had only hinted at but never fully revealed. That was what had made Mike leave her, the knowledge that no matter what they did, no matter how many lives they saved or killers they caught, that darkness and evil would be waiting just underneath the surface; it was a battle that no one could every win.

Vicky took a deep breath and crossed the room, picking up her phone and weighing it in her palm for a moment, before hitting the speed dial. She held her breath while the sound of the number dialing was replaced with a ring, then two.

“Hello?”

“Coreen, it’s on. Can you be ready by tomorrow night? We’re not giving up the world without a fight.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

Mike stared at the phone, wishing he could pick it up and throw it across the room, but he felt the twin holes of Captain Crowley’s eyes burning into the back of his shirt and knew that he couldn’t afford to give in to his anger right now. It would end up on some report, that could be used to throw him off the force; Anger management issues, violent outbursts and behaviour…one short visit upstairs to the cop psychiatrics and then out on the street.

He sighed, pushing back in the chair until he heard the familiar creak of old wood and springs before running his fingers back through his hair. How could feel like such a long day when it wasn’t even that much after noon yet?

“Tired partner?”

Mike looked up, seeing Kate standing upside down behind him, her carefully tailored dark grey dress suit looking even longer from his strange angle. He sat up and turned around, shaking his head slightly to return the blood flowing the right direction.

“Just a long night,” he answered, feeling his lips form into a smile. There was something easy about chatting with Kate…like you knew there’s be no surprises, no strange—or supernatural—twists.

“I bet I could have thought of a way for it to have been even longer,” she joked, coming up closer to where he still sat, so close in fact that their knees almost brushed against one another.

“Oh, I completely forgot Kate, I’m sorry—I was supposed to meet you for coffee right? We set it up before Coreen came by and it just slipped my mind.”

Kate laughed at his deception even while thinking how amazing a detective he was to remember such a small detail from days ago with so little sleep. She’d believed that he hadn’t even heard her that day in the break room, too distracted by his friend showing up to do more then nod without really listening. Looks like Mike was just full of surprises.

“Why don’t we go for lunch then and you can make it up to me?” she asked.

Mike looked around, suddenly not sure…he almost felt guilty for thinking about saying yes, but that was ridiculous—he wasn’t with anyone. He was a free agent and could do what he wanted. Goodness knows everyone else did, he thought, remembering back to the hurt he’d felt this morning realizing that Vicky had moved and not even bothered to send him a change of address card.

“If it’s the case that’s bothering you, bring it along,” Kate offered, picking up the top folder off his desk and waving it playfully in front of his nose. “You can run some ideas by me, what are partners for right?”

“Yeah,” Mike nodded, surprising both himself and her as he pulled her under his arm before steering her around and out the door. “What are partners for.”

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 16;

Vicky stood in line at the morgue. She tried not to fuss with her hair, pulled tight and contained in the French twist. She hadn’t worn the style in years, usually these days preferring to leave it out so that it could fall over the edges of her glasses—unconsciously trying to hide them. But somehow it seemed suiting for today.

“Miss Nelson?” the voice called as the line in front of her moved again and she saw an opening appear at the window.

“You’re here for…” the faceless woman didn’t even glance up while she shuffled through the piles of papers in front of her.

“Ann Lywellin,” Vicky reminded gently. “I’m here to claim her body.”

“You’ll need to fill out these forms..” the woman passed a stack through the small opening but Vicky pushed her hand against the glass before she could send them spilling onto the floor.

“Done.” She held out her own slightly crumpled stack.

“And a piece of identification proving your relationship to the deceased,” the woman barely paused. She scanned through the forms, and Vicky could see the exact point where her eyes stopped before finally looking up at Vicky—it was the only blank on the whole form; relationship to the deceased.

“Exactly what is your relationship?” the woman asked, eyes skeptically looking Vicky up and down and taking in the dark business casual suit, entirely nondescript and unremarkable. They learned how to dress on the force quickly—not to draw attention to themselves, to be able to blend in and not get noticed. She might as well have pinned the badge she no longer had to the front of her blazer.

“I don’t exactly have one…” Vicky confessed. She’d thought about lying; it would be easy enough to fake the necessary documents, but somehow she wanted this last thing to be the truth. It was the only thing that she could do for Annie now and she didn’t want to taint it with lies too.

“We can’t release bodies to just anyone, there are procedures, protocols to follow.” Just like any good bureaucracy, Vicky thought.

“I was working her case,” Vicky said, not quiet a lie. “There’s no one else. She has no family. I don’t want her having a state burial—no headstone, no one to remember her. She deserves more then that. I owe her more then that.”

The woman looked at her doubtfully, tapping the edge of her pen against the tall stack of empty forms.

“It’s just…I’m responsible for her,” Vicky finished lamely. It sounded pathetic and stupid but it was the truth.

The woman was silent for a moment, continuing to look at her before she clicked her pen hard against the table and wrote something in the empty box about relationship to the deceased.

“Your niece will be taken care of Miss Nelson. St. Michaels will handle the arrangements and call you about scheduling the services.”

“Thank you,” Vicky said, stepping out of line.

The woman nodded, meeting her eyes once more and Vicky saw something familiar and shared in their blue depths. A moment of pure understanding passed between them.

“Next,” she called, turning away.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting as Vicky stepped out of the building, turning the sky into a bright tapestry of pinks and gold and orange. She took heart from the burning colours, something about their complete brilliance making her believe again, and find the confidence and faith that she had lost somewhere along the way, between one victim and the next.

But then the colours muted and night began to fall, and Vicky felt doubt creeping in again. Because she didn’t know what tonight would bring, and she couldn’t decide what to hope for…

--------------------------------------------------------

Henry woke up as the last rays of the sun were cut off below the horizon of tall buildings and concrete towers of Toronto. He became completely aware in an instant, the sounds and smells of the metropolis overpowering him for a moment; the car horns honking and people arguing outside, the rats crawling through the alleyways and slightly sickening smell of cooking meat mixing with rotten garbage. But then things came back into focus and his immediate surroundings brought a smile to his lips.

Finally.

He could smell Vicky’s particular scent; something of wild flowers and honey that she used in her hair, the particular brand of soap and just the overpowering smell of her on the sheets and lingering on his skin. He listened for a moment, but no other heart beat greeted him and he felt a moment of sorrow at that. He’d spent far too long waking up alone and without the warmth and comfort of another living creature, he missed that.

He lay for a moment, pretending that he could still feel the warmth of Vicky’s body in the bed beside him, still feel the softness of her skin against his in the silk of the sheets….

Henry sat up, reaching for his shirt and pants where they lay discarded on the floor from last night, he laughed slightly at the sight of the buttons ripped free from his shirt and drew the soft material on leaving it flapping open in the front. He’d find something more appropriate…or at least not torn later.

He quietly moved through the apartment, taking in the small differences that marked the presence of human habitation….of Vicky. He’d tried hard to cultivate the image of humanity in his home, but the small details were always missing; the bathroom products scattered across the vanity and cupboards, the clutter of coats and scarves in the hall for those who felt the cold of winter, unwashed coffee cups and half eaten boxes of pizza were pushed to the back of the kitchen counters. As he took stock of the changes he realized how far from these small everyday things of humanity he’d actually fell…and how much he had missed it without even realizing it.

Suddenly he needed to see her, to feel Vicky physically with him and touch her, taste the particular salt and sweetness of her honey skin on his tongue…it was worse then hunger. It was a desire so strong it was nearly a compulsion.

He brushed past the doorman, barely a gust of wind and a shadow moving quickly out into the dark streets. The presence of people surrounded him, their voices and blood moving through their veins driving him into a frenzy…he hadn’t fed yet this night and it was taking its toll. He could feel the familiar ache in his teeth, the slight pressure against his lips as they elongated to pointy tips.

But he didn’t want any of the millions of people who surrounded him, his entire focus was bent to finding one individual among the crowd…a scent of honey and wild flowers lost amid the breeze. It seemed nearly impossible, but he’d had hundreds of years spent tracking prey to perfect his skills…and soon enough he caught her scent and moved towards the darkness of campus, the paths illuminated by the sparse glow of streetlights, brief islands of light.

------------------------------------------------------------

Vicky turned off Bloor street and onto Philosophers Walk, the small path that wound through the middle of campus, shadowed by trees that would take her out on the other end a few blocks away. It was more convenient then walking the busy main streets and dodging the people and obstacles she could barely see anymore, but she felt a chill as she passed out of the brightly lit sidewalks and onto the stone pathway. It was quiet back here, the trees bare and their branches stretching out above her and obscuring the stars.

She started to walk quickly, her steps echoing against the pathway as she moved behind the faculty of music, a soft sound of a flute playing in the distance as some dedicated student practiced late into the night.

Vicky paused, feeling someone watching her and turned in a circle but saw nothing but the dark trunks of the maple trees and some late piles of snow lining the ground under the benches set every few meters. She almost turned to go again but her heart was beating so fast…almost racing in the dark…

She laughed then, turning to look over her shoulder once more only to feel arms come around her, enfolding her in warmth against the chill of the night.

“Takes you back doesn’t it?” a soft voice whispered in her ear. “The music…the stars, it reminds me of a different time.”

“Well you would know,” Vicky leaned into his embrace for a moment, before doubt again slithered between them and she began to pull away.

“Henry….”

“Shhh…” his arms tightened around her, holding her in place against this chest. He just wanted to stand like this forever, feeling her body heat, hearing the beat of her heart loud in the darkness.

His lips traveled over the edge of her jaw, nuzzling her hair aside, and Vicky stretched back her neck in invitation, her breath catching as his lips traveled down and heat built between them with each brush of his tongue. When his teeth finally sank deep she thought she was going to faint, the only thing keeping her knees from buckling was the strength of his arms around her…

“Henry…” she tried again when she found her voice, trying not to sound distracted by the feeling of his fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin at the nape of her neck and his other hand moving slowly tracing the tope of her jeans.

“About the other night?..” she tried to keep her voice light and not serious, tried not to let him see how much the answer might mean to her.

Henry pulled her around, still keeping his arms around her but wanted to be able to see her face, to look into her eyes. She was biting slightly at the edge of her lip, a small sign of nervousness escaping her control, and there was shadows of doubt in her eyes.

“Vicky, I haven’t been as afraid in hundreds of years as I was when I heard that you were danger and I was too far away to do anything. I tried to just pick up and go on, tried to find a way to live my life without you, but I couldn’t. You were everywhere I looked, and truthfully I didn’t want to let go.”

He lifted her face, tilting her chin up so that he could see the moonlight in her eyes. “I don’t want to leave you again, I don’t know if I could survive that. Please, I asked you once before, and I made the mistake of not staying to fight for you—of leaving. Vicky, I need you with me, please…come away with me.”

Vicky’s breath caught in her throat…this was what she wanted, what she’d dreamed of for weeks, months ever since Henry had left, but now that it was happening, why did she feel this ache inside of her? She wanted this more then almost anything—to be with Henry, finally and be able to spend every night safe and warm in his arms. Not have to fight anymore, be able to just rest and enjoy one another and the night.

So what was holding her back?

Annie’s death had ended something in her, some fire and determination to keep fighting no matter what…it just wasn’t there anymore. She was going through the motions, find the victims, help them where she could, keep trying to find a connection, a clue to how to send Asteroth back to hell…but she was fooling herself if she thought that there was any easy way out that would let them all just be able to live happily ever after. Asteroth was toying with them, and would keep teasing and playing for years watching their pain and knowing that they couldn’t stop it…couldn’t stop him.

And then there was Coreen’s plan…it was dangerous and crazy and stupid---but it might just be insane enough to work. And if it did then this would finally be over, once and for all.

She looked up at Henry, knowing that he would never agree to it, to letting her risk herself in the middle of that much dark magic…and so Asteroth would win. Again. And again and again; and more people would die.

She wanted a life, a future…she wanted this crazy supernatural world that she’d been drawn into by these marks on her skin to just disappear like some bad dream with the morning. Didn’t she deserve that, after everything? Didn’t she deserve to be happy?

Vicky looked up into Henry’s eyes, her own bright with unshed tears and smiled, truly smiled at the naked vulnerable look on his face.

She nodded; “Yes, I want to be free of all this, once and for all. I want to go where no one knows us and we can live quiet, happy lives. I want to go away with you.”

Henry pulled her into his arms, kissing her and stealing her breath.

“Lets leave tonight,” he said, excitement eager in his tone. “We can go anywhere you’d like—anywhere; Venice, Paris, Rome…I want to see the whole world with you.”

Vicky laughed, shakily pulling away slightly and turning so that he wouldn’t see her face as she took deep breaths.

“Take it easy,” she tried to force a steadiness into her voice. “There’s no hurry, and there are loose ends to tie up here first; my business and cases to transfer, people to see…let’s leave tomorrow night, everything should be ready by then.” Please Coreen…she prayed, let everything be ready by then.

“Tomorrow night,” Henry vowed, pulling her back into his arms and she rested her head against the hollow of his collarbone. “Tomorrow night and everything changes.”

Blood Ties First Blood

2009-08-03T02:56:36Z

Blood Ties: At First Blood; Ch. 15;

How could she have agreed to let Coreen go ahead with this? They’d spent most of the morning discussing the spell, Vicky pointing out the numerous holes and gaps in information and Coreen assuring her that there would be more then enough safeguards by the time they were ready to go ahead….it sounded like it might work, but she hated trusting in magic, something about it just made her skin crawl… and, she thought as she turned around and slid down the door to sit on the floor staring into the other room, she knew that Henry would never approve.