Angels Amongst Us v 10.5: Living Dead Girl
by Christina Marie
Rating: PG-13 (violence and language)
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All original characters used with permission of the Denigoddess. This is an authorized addition to the 'Angels Amongst Us' series. Address any and all comments/concerns with this piece to the Denigoddess. She'll pass them along to me.
The characterizations of certain personalities are pure fantasy. No resemblance is implied or inferred. In regards to copyrighted characters, all standard disclaimers apply. Disney owns Gargoyles, I don't. 'Nuff said.
And this is *NOT* a Mary Sue.
When the Denigoddess created the character of Dr. Tina Stephenson, she used me for a reference point. The only thing that is in the least MarySue-ish is the fact that I physically resemble the character. I am not a doctor, I'm an EMT. Also, I am nowhere near 456 years old!Now, with all that said... have some fun!
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February 2006
She felt the pressure- smothering her like a cold, wet blanket - suddenly lift. The release signaled freedom.
The sun had set.
Tina Stephenson felt very good about the product of her day's work. Since midmorning, she had been studying the blood samples from Demona - Dominique - she had taken over the last few days in her various forms. The amnesiac Gargoyle was quite a puzzle. Tina had never known her as anything other than the good hearted innocent she had met a month ago at Xanadu. Having now heard the stories of what she had done as Demona... well, it was no wonder she had asked Hades for death.
Her other mansion-mates were no less curious. At least with Lennox MacBeth she had something in common. The fact that he had been the great king of Shakespeare's tale hadn't surprised her in the least, she should have expected it. His manner and charms made her long for home, and she thought about trying to form a friendship with him. A relationship was out of the question from the first... He was, in one way or another, bound completely to Dominique. Timron was a mystery to her, she hadn't spent any more than about an evening with him since they'd arrived together in the crates. As it fell out, while they had the evenings in common, he was out patrolling, not feeling the electronic surveillance was enough to protect the Summerlands.
Wren, at least, she already knew. Although her young - make that very young - friend had only just learned of her true nature, they'd been close for a long time. More than ten years now. Having Wren around was the biggest bonus to the whole deal. Sure, she made an obscene amount of money for the job, had a chance to study a race that would live just as long as she, but the real bonus was that she'd actually get to see her friend. Email was great, but not as good as grabbing a cold one and chatting it up.
Fortunately, her new companions were considerate of her condition. She didn't know who had done it, but someone had taken the time to completely seal a suite of rooms for her, blacking out the windows and removing the skylight, even managing to get her heavy sarcophagus into a room of its own. That ancient stone box was her one vanity. The 'locks' within, built by ancient priests to protect its former occupant from the world also served to protect her from it. If only her companions could see what she kept in there...
Taking a look at her watch, she realized it was almost time to go. She set the slides back into their cases and picked up the last bit of clutter from the lab. A disorganized lab was a bad lab...
The small form shook as she wiped the blood from the walls. Her pale eyes glistened.
"They've made a mess in here, ma'am. I'll take care of it..."
Tina shook her head, clearing away the thought. That was the problem with living forever, you never forgot what you'd seen.
Wren, MacBeth, Demetrius, and Dominique were on the patio when Tina came out. Just as they had every night since her arrival, they were sitting out enjoying the stars. Timron was not to be found.
Tina plunked down in a deck chair. "Hello, all."
"Hey, Tina. What's new?" Wren asked, looking down from the sky. She was curled up in Demetrius' lap, gazing up at Orion.
"Well, I thought you'd all like to go out clubbing with me tonight. There's a place in Sam Hain that I think you might enjoy."
Wren felt Demetrius shudder slightly at the word 'clubbing'. She knew that wasn't what Tina was talking about, but the word still bugged her.
"And what kind of place would this be, lass?"
"It's called the Athenaeum. It's a place that caters to..." She looked for the right phrase. "...to our kinds."
"A club for mutants? And Gargoyles? And..." Wren trailed off. She'd learned the hard way not to call Tina a 'vampire'. For some reason, it really pissed her off.
Tina nodded. "It's a part of a network of places for the more... unusual... creatures of society. It's very nice, or so I've been told. I've never been there myself."
"Then how do you know they'll take people like us?" Dominique asked.
Tina hesitated. "Let's just say, a friend told me."
"Sounds cool. What should I wear?"
"It's got a dress code. No bloodstains, no dead animals." She smiled. "In other words, business casual."
It took a while, but eventually everyone was ready to go. Tina, feeling a bit flamboyant, had chosen to wear a hugging sweater and tight blue jeans. She was perhaps the most revealing of all - Demetrius was wearing a heavy trench coat to cover his wings, and a ratty ball cap. He knew he could ditch them once in the club, but until they arrived he had to hide his nature. The same went for Dominique. Wren only had to cover her ears with a floppy hat - her tail was easy to hide. MacBeth... well, all he had to do was dress.
Then came the problem of transportation. Two full-sized gargoyles, an Immortal and a Fae weren't going to fit into any one car. It was decided that Tina and Wren would go in Tina's car - a white SUV - and the rest would travel in a blacked-out van driven by Dominique.
The Athenaeum was four stories tall, and took up most of a city block. It looked like an old warehouse, which it may have been. Parking was easy, and a quick dart across the street found them all at the front door. Tina knocked twice.
A slot opened, revealing a pair of very blue eyes. "Yes?"
"Hello. I've come to see Sam Hain."
The eyes didn't blink. "Really? How do you know Sam?"
Tina smiled, showing the ends of her canine teeth. "We had dinner together."
The eyes haughtily scrutinized the young woman who so wantonly flaunted her sanguine wares. They gleamed bright blue and implied an implicit warning. "Discretion is the better part of valor, My Pretty. Anyone can have prosthetics for one's teeth. Now, are you an acquaintance of Sam Hain?"
Tina nodded, and wordlessly pulled a small medallion from beneath her sweater, holding it towards the slot. Eyes peered, mild shock flickering across the exposed face. It was so slight, it was hard to catch it
"Tell me, Pretty," the figure raised two delicately arched brows in quite amusement. "Do you know the proper utterance?" Pencil drawn brows furrowed together in contemplation. He pursed his lips when she said nothing. "Well?"
Tina's eyes flashed, a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Shouldn't the question be 'why have I come'?"
A smile. It had been a while since there'd been a challenge. "Then... why have you come?"
"Pour le sang est la vie... et la vie est ici." *
The eyes crinkled in laughter, and the slot closed. There was the sound of heavy bolts sliding, and the door swung open. The blue eyes now had a face, weathered but full of mischief.
"Good evening, I am Lysander." He showed them into the club.
"What is that, Tina?" Wren's gaze was drawn to the medallion, a delicate silver wheel with inlayed stones.
Tina smiled, putting it back under her sweater. "Just a - membership card of sorts."
The doorman, Lysander, looked at the group as a whole. A human, two gargoyles, a Sanguine, and a - a Mutant Fae? Curious.
Another knock drew his attention. Apparently, they were free to sit down.
They found a table in a corner, away from the bright lights and the thrum of the music.
Wren looked at Tina as the others began to shed their coats and hats. "What was that at the door, Tina? The riddle and the necklace?"
Tina waved to catch the bartender's attention. When she had it, she held her arm out towards him, her wrist bare. He nodded. "It was a password check, Wren. This part of town in called Sam Hain, right? It's a play on words. If I hadn't come up with something witty to say, he'd have taken us for normal humans and we'd never have gotten in. Well, I would have..."
"Okay, so explain the necklace. I saw the surprise on his face. What gives?"
Tina ignored her question. The bartender arrived, a dark green glass and a blue bottle in his hands. He showed Tina the label, and she nodded.
As he walked away, Wren grabbed the bottle and read the label. "Aw, Jeeze!" She put the bottle down quickly.
"What is it," Demetrius asked.
Wren shook her head. "I should have minded my own business."
Demetrius picked up the bottle himself, and read off the label:
Elixir de Vie
Origin: European Male
Age: 2006
Status: Virgin
He looked at Tina, who was watching him curiously. "This is your idea of refreshment?"
"Would you rather I pulled some poor sap off the streets and drain him dry?" She rolled her eyes. "Don't forget what I am, Demetrius. I make no apologies for it. You don't have to like me, you just have to live with me."
Demetrius growled.
Wren knew that growl. Demetrius was getting annoyed. With Tina, that would be easy. No one was quite used to her yet. Hell, even Wren herself was ill-at-ease around her, knowing that she drank blood. But, Demetrius knew Wren trusted Tina completely, and so he would trust her as well.
MacBeth broke the silence that reigned. "Would anyone care for something to drink?"
"So, Tina," Dominique asked, sipping on her wine. "How did you know about this place? I know you said 'a friend' told you..."
"Yes."
Wren jumped in. "Well, is this the only place like it? Are there others?"
Tina smiled. "There are others, in other cities, other countries. Anywhere there's a significant population of the Unusual . I once ran a club like this in Southampton." She smiled at the memory. "It was called Callahan's. Oak on all the walls, a long polished bar, with cherubs carved on the sides... wicker chairs on the top deck..."
"Sounds like a good place," MacBeth said quietly.
"It was."
"Is it still there?" Wren was drinking soda, she knew that Tina would lecture her on alcohol and its effects if she got the chance.
"No." Tina's smile faded. "It burned in 1913."
"I'm sorry," Wren said softly.
"So..." Dominique said, turning her attention again towards Tina. "Where are you from... originally?"
Tina shot her a look that said 'don't go there'. Dominique persisted. "I mean, if you're gonna be sticking needles into us, I think we've got a right to know a little bit about you."
"You want to know? All right... I was born at Hawthorne House, which is in Marlborough, England, in the year of Our Lord Fifteen-Hundred and Fifty, during the reign of His Majesty King Edward the Sixth." Tina said with a wistful smile.
"Wow." Dominique pressed on. "So... what were you? An earl's daughter or a duke's lovechild or..."
Tina stiffened. "I was no man's 'lovechild'. My father was an ambassador, His Majesty's Envoy to the Spanish Court."
MacBeth sucked in a breath. "A Catholic in England then? Not a pleasant thing to be."
"No. But my father was a pretty smart man. I was only a baby when he extracted a pledge from Edward - " At Dominique's blank look she clarified. "My father received a written promise - in return for his support , when I came of age I was to have a place at Court. Edward died when I was three, but the pledge was still binding to his successors. When I was six, and Mary was on the throne, I was commanded to an education to befit a 'companion' of Her Majesty."
"But Mary died, and then came Elizabeth."
"When I was seventeen, I was living in the south of Ireland. My mother was dead, my father retired. Even he'd forgotten about the agreement. So, when I was summoned to be a Lady of the Privy Chamber for Her Majesty..."
"What's that?" Wren was following the conversation in earnest, finally learning about the childhood - the real childhood - Tina had never told her about. In the Camp they'd never talked about themselves, and in the years since, Wren had learned next to nothing about why Tina was the way she was.
"It's an over-glorified maid. I literally helped her pick out what corset she was going to wear." The table laughed. "I was eighteen, and for the first time in my life, I was on my own. It was fun."
A waitress came around, and in refilling their drinks, slid Tina a slip of paper. She read it, nodded to the waitress, and handed the paper back without a word.
"What's that about?" MacBeth knew that for the last few minutes, several of the club's patrons had been sparing glances in their direction. He assumed it was because they were in the company of gargoyles the likes of which were unknown to the people here.
"It's from the doorman, Lysander. There are some rather nasty people on their way, and he doesn't think they'll take kindly to such obvious strangers. He wants us to be on our toes."
"All right."
They drank in uncomfortable silence.
Eventually, the conversation turned to Dominique and her soon-to-begin studies at the University. Tina had decided that she wouldn't be a threat in a scholarly environment, so she'd started school. Even, to everyone's amusement, one of MacBeth's classes.
Despite the change in topics, Wren was still curious. She wanted to know how Tina had gone from being a fashion assistant for a Queen to a full-blooded (pardon the pun) vampire. The only problem was, how to ask. Did she try the direct approach, or did she dance around a bit, hoping for some more information?
After another five minutes passed, with only the sounds of the bar, she decided on the direct approach.
"So how did you become a... what was it, a Sanguine?"
Tina looked up from her glass, which she'd been staring into rather intently. "Huh?"
"I asked how you became a vamp - I mean, a sanguine?"
"It's nothing you'd be interested in, trust me."
"Why don't you let me figure out what I'm interested in, huh? Right now, I'm interested in you."
Tina's eyes flickered. "Do you really want to hear this - here and now? In this place?"
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"Argh!" A frustrated cry. The Canons that guided the conduct of the Kind - Sanguine and Vampires - forbade her from doing what she was about to do. The only problem was that the Canons were written in the Ancient times, before the days of the Pharaohs. Her friends - Gargoyles, Mutants, Fae, Immortals - didn't exist when the Canons had been put to stone. Did the Canon of the Veil, the code of silence, apply to them?
After a moment's consideration, she decided that they didn't.
"All right, I'll tell you." She took a deep swallow of blood and began.
"In the summer of 1575, the Court left London to avoid an outbreak of fever. We did that quite often, going from one great house to another, touring the country while sickness ravaged London... We traveled about for two months, living with various lords, taking great advantage of their hospitality. The last of our stops was at an estate called Hathaway, in Berkshire, which belonged to Don Paulo d'Cavase, an Emissary to the Court from Italy. He put on a grand show for us, which included a fox hunt. Her Majesty loved hunting, and the Court often hunted with her. During the hunt I became rather lost, but off to the south I spotted the fox we were chasing. I went after it like a shot, though at the edge of the woods my mare caught a root and I was thrown. - Cliché, I know. - Anyway, I went flying into a patch of brambles... damn painful things... sliced me up pretty good. Don Paulo was the first to find me - no doubt drawn by the smell of my blood. I thought of him as my savior, and we spent the rest of the retreat in each other's company. A few days later, when we returned to the Palace in London, he entered into negotiations with my father for my hand in marriage."
"Wait... he asked your dad?"
"Yes, Dominique. In those days, a father had totally control over a daughter's life. He chose your husband, if he let you marry. Sometimes, if he couldn't find a suitable match, he'd put you into a convent."
"Yikes!"
Tina laughed. "Tell me about it. My father threatened me with a convent more than once. But... an emissary from Italy, willing to marry me, an Englishwoman? My father could hardly refuse. Of course he took it to the Queen, and strategist that she was, she saw it was a good move. Bind the Italian to the court that much closer... I was a Catholic, and so was Paulo... but I recognized the Queen's authority over the lives of the subjects of her empire. I never questioned her authority as my Queen, and she knew that if it came to following her or the Pope... She knew where my loyalty lay. So, the match was made. I married Paulo in the chapel of Her Majesty's summer palace three months later."
Even Demetrius had to smile at the unmasked happiness that had invaded Tina's voice. He wasn't the only one to notice that the longer she spoke, the more her voice took on a curious quality - a mixture of an Irish brogue and a Scottish burr.
"And he... he was the one that turned you?" Wren asked meekly.
She laughed again. "Turned? You've been reading too much Anne Rice, Wren. We don't call it 'turning'. We call it 'begetting'. A paragon begets a scion."
"Okay, okay... so he - begat you?"
"The word is 'begot', dear."
"All right already."
"Good grammar is not something to be ignored."
"You're stalling, dear." Wren said pointedly. "So... how did it happen?"
"Wren, if I were ask you how you ended up in the Camps, you'd swear at me and say it was none of my business."
"This isn't the Camp, Doc." Wren could tell that Tina didn't want to talk about it, but she was too enthralled with the story to back down now. Wren could feel that they were just getting to the meat of things, and she didn't want it to end.
As for Tina, she wasn't sure if she wanted to go on. It was strange, telling these people the origins of her life, the time before the Veil. But, she reasoned, she knew the intimate details of their lives, so it was only fair that they knew the details of hers.
"Oh, all right." She said. "It's rather embarrassing, really. You see, the Sanguine aren't really dead - not in the clinical sense. And at the time of my marriage, I was still fully mortal. Paulo and I had been married a few years when I became very ill and almost died... My husband refused to let that happen... Paulo, for whatever reason, had actually fallen in love with me, and made his own decision about my mortality."
Demetrius snorted in disgust, no male had the right to chose life or death for his mate.
"Hey!" Tina snapped her fingers in front of Demetrius' face after the snort. "You wanna hear this or not?" He made no sound. "That's what I thought. Anyway... We didn't know why or how then, but it was a kind of human retrovirus that changes you. And when Paulo decided to change me, he had to take a drastic step. I was so very sick at the time that he would need to give me a great amount of his blood... and take a great amount of mine."
The gathered group looked at Tina with a mixture of awe and disgust. She could see that Dominique was both fascinated and horrified. MacBeth had a sour look on his face - the more he learned the less he seemed to want to know. Well, she thought, it was his problem.
"I don't remember a lot of what happened, but I remember that Paulo went to the Court and told the Queen that I was very sick. He asked that they pray for my recovery. Then - and this was surprising - Elizabeth came to see me. She sat at my side and told me that I would be fine. She took my hand and told me she would pray God for His intercession, and that God would listen to her because she was a Queen."
"Then, there was a room. It was black as night, lit only by a single candle. I was in my nightdress, and everything was hazy. Paulo sat at my side, and told me that all would be well. He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. Then, a feeling of such pain as I had never known. Like fire, then ice. I saw clearly, with horror, that Paulo was taking my blood from the veins in my wrist. I thought 'I have married a demon, and he is killing me.' I felt my skin grow cold, and my heart slow. Just before I thought I should die, Paulo released my hand, and whispered to me, 'Caro'. I felt another pain on my wrist, but it was far away. I don't know how, but Paulo was giving me... He was giving me his own blood."
Tina saw she had her audience totally enraptured.
"I fought a deadly fever for a night and a day. When it was all over, and the fever had broken, I awoke. It was the middle of the night, and Paulo was there. It was then that he told me what he was, and what he had done. He said it was the only way to save me, to keep me with him. He adored me, he said, and could not lose me. I told him I thought he was a devil, and that he had damned me. He said no, he was a man like any other, but with a special gift - a special curse. He told me of his own history - He was born a soldier's son in the days of Constantine. He knew too much of the past to have been lying. Eventually he convinced me that he spoke the truth. I loved him enough to believe the greatest tall tale of all time. He taught me the history and traditions of our kind... after a month, he approached the Court, explaining to the Queen that my illness had passed, but had left me unable to bear the light of day. My blood had 'gone bad' from the ill humors that would not leave me. The Queen's own physician examined me, and found that indeed, I was afflicted by 'bad blood' and that no amount of bleeding would cure it. A minister was called, and he said I was 'without demons'. I rejoined the Court for its evening events, and all was well."
Something confused Dominique. "Wait, wait, wait... this Don Paulo, your husband - he could go out during the day, but you couldn't?"
"Paulo was over a thousand years old then. The older one of our kind becomes, the more we can tolerate. Even now, at 456, I can't stand more than a few hours in the sun before I start to burn. Another century or so, and I should be able to spend most of the day outside - it's dawn that's rough for me."
"What happened to him?" MacBeth asked.
"Paulo and I went our separate ways around 1660, just after my Coronation - it's a sort of ceremony a Sanguine undergoes when they're able to exist on their own. I ran into him once in Paris around 1790. I heard he had sided with Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette in the Revolution, and that he was beheaded in 1794."
Wren looked like she'd been slapped. "I'm sorry, Tina."
"Don't be. If the camps taught you nothing else, Wren, let him have taught you this : Never regret that which you had no control over."
"What did you do after you two split?"
"I spent a hundred years traveling Europe. I some places I was a widow, in others, a young woman off to see her husband-to-be. A dozen kingdoms, a dozen names. I had a grand old time."
Demetrius had a question of his own to ask. He'd listened silently for the most part, but since the floor had been opened, and Tina was answering most of their questions... "Where did you acquire your coffin?"
"Pardon?" Tina had been waving for another bottle and hadn't heard the question.
"Where did you get the sarcophagus?"
Tina smiled. "Oh... that was a gift from Horatio Nelson."
MacBeth was stunned. "Nelson? The Nelson?"
"You got it." Tina explained. "While he was fooling around with Emma - Lady Hamilton, I did her a favor - got her invited to a few of the right parties - I was the only one who'd give her the time of day, I guess. He was grateful for that. When he found out I was a collector of strange objects he gave me the sarcophagus. I found out it was a wonderful way to travel."
"How many other famous people did you know?" Wren asked, again curious.
"A few."
"Other than this Don Paulo guy, did you ever... you know... love anyone?"
Tina was quiet for a moment. "In my life, I've loved three men. I was fortunate enough to marry two of them."
"What about the third?"
"He... is not a topic of discussion."
Tina's silence indicated that the conversation was over. Maybe it was because there wasn't anything more that anyone could think to ask, or maybe it was because they'd heard a sad ending to what was shaping up to be an incredible love story. Who knew?
The silence didn't last long.
The first sign that trouble had arrived was Lysander approaching the table. The unspoken signals were impossible for Tina to miss. She stood, excusing herself, and walked towards the elegant doorman. Although she had only seen him these past hours, she could tell that his manners were strained, and that he was nervous.
"Start chanting." Tina whispered to him as she met with him. She knew Wren had a knack for languages and she didn't want her picking up on the archaic tongues. Sandescant, the language of the Sanguine, was something that Tina wanted to keep from her for now.
"What's wrong?"
"The individuals I mentioned earlier are on their way, and will arrive shortly. They're not terribly fond of your friends." He swiveled his head towards Demetrius and Dominique. He explained further for a moment.
Tina's eyes widened as she listened. "Quarrymen?! Here?"
"Not Quarrymen precisely, but close enough."
Tina shook her head. "We have enough problems without our kind starting race wars!" Then she thought for a moment. "Wait. How could anyone know that they're here? Unless..." She turned and studied the faces in the bar, seeking the eyes of each. "Someone called them in. Someone betrayed us."
Lysander put a hand on Tina's shoulder. "We will deal with that betray at another time, my young Sanguine. However, right now we have something else to deal with. Our guests will be arriving shortly. Prepare your friends. I... I will do what I can."
"I thank thee." Tina walked back to the table.
"Okay, here's the situation. We've got a couple of real uglies coming. They're the Shire's version of the Quarrymen. They're big, they're nasty, and they hate outsiders. Someone called them in on us. Lysander says they're almost here. Now, whatever you do, do not provoke them. Make them fight first. Trust me, whatever you do, do not provoke them. Only defend yourselves. Leave the rest to me."
Nods around the table. "Okay, what do we do now?" Dominique asked.
Tina sat back down and took a big swig from her glass. "Now? Now, we wait."
Mere moments later, four very large humans waltzed in. As big as Demetrius, pale skinned, shaven heads glistening in the light, they looked like overgrown skinheads. Which was exactly what they were in Tina's eyes. No better than the hatred that had spawned them.
They quickly spotting the odd-looking group in the corner. The leader - the one Tina presumed to be the leader - motioned for his companions to head towards them.
Everyone stood. Tina took up position in the front, Demetrius behind her. He was doing his best to hid Wren from view. Dominique and MacBeth flanked them on either side. Wren's hands glowed with magic.
"Well, what do we have here? A mutie freak and a couple of water spout pissers." He sneered. "You're kind doesn't belong in this city. Get out, before we turn you into gravel."
Wren's hand held Demetrius back. In front, Tina's eyes flared red. "Leave us be," she said, her voice taking on a strange, almost doubled, quality. It was as if two voices were speaking.
The leader turned his attention towards Tina. "Oh, so you brought them here, huh? What, you own kind's not good enough for you?"
Tina stood, unmoving.
One of the others approached from the side, grabbing Tina by the neck and trying to lift her into the air. "The man asked you a question, bitch!"
Tina looked down at the man holding her by the neck, and smiled. With one finger, she ran her nail along his hand, ripping open the flesh there. He gasped in pain, the wound wasn't healing! What did she... In surprise, he released his hold, and Tina stood back on the floor where she had been, the one who assaulted her was now on the floor in agony.
She looked to the leader. "I'll not tell you again. Leave us be."
Wren looked at Tina and gave her a knowing wink. The edge of the Fae's finger glowed a verdant green. Like a mother to a disobedient child, Wren wagged her finger. She turned to the strange creatures standing before them. "I suggest you listen to Tina. Otherwise, you'll have the wrath unlike any you've known fall upon your pathetic bloodsucking shoulders."
"You're not healing, that should give you just an indication that we mean business." Tina smiled. If these were foolish enough to start something in front of all gathered, they'd best be prepared for something that they'd never seen.
Tina nodded back to Wren, who started to move her fingers. But before anyone could do anything, a blast of cold air filled the room.
"Enough."
That one work brought everything to a standstill. Tina turned her head to see a small woman, with flowing black hair and white skin, surrounded by a group of men and women in matching trenchcoats - Attendants. It took only an instant to know who and what the woman was.
Tina stood down from her fighting stance. So did those opposing her. The universal authority of a Sovereign was recognized in any situation, even battle.
"What's going on?" Wren asked. She hadn't understood the word the woman had used. It was the same language Tina and Lysander had used, but for some reason, she couldn't pick up on it.
"She's the Sovereign." Tina said as the pale women approached the group of combatants. "She's the oldest and most powerful Vampire in the area."
"Oh."
The Sovereign looked at the creature on the floor, still writhing in pain. Then she looked up towards Tina. "Did you do this with intent?" Her voice was rough, gravelly.
Tina nodded.
The Sovereign smiled. "You defend yourself well, cousin."
"I am Amarantha. You know what I am." Again, Tina nodded. "I find it intriguing that one of your kind has made it into this Shire." She looked at the troublemakers again. To one of her Attendants, she nodded. The group swarmed around the ones who had caused all the trouble and, picking up the fallen, took them out of the club. Tina didn't want to know where they were going.
Amarantha summed Tina up in a look. "I am a woman of few words, Christina of Hawthorne. I abhor subterfuge amongst our kind. Why are you here?"
If Tina was shocked by the use of her 'real' name, she didn't show it. "I was hired to do a job. To study the Gargoyles - the Children of Stone." She nodded back towards Demetrius and Dominique. "To care for them, and to learn their ways."
"Indeed. You are an esteemed member of your - community. You give credit to the usefulness of our kind. Much of your work has been of great benefit to many of us."
"I'm honored that you think so." Tina wondered what the Sovereign was up to. Flattery was a part of the life of the Convocation, but the Sovereign wasn't usually the one who flattered.
Then, it struck. The Sovereign wanted something.
"Walk with me, Christina of Hawthorne."
Tina stood at Amarantha's side as they walked away from Demetrius, Wren and the others. She hoped they could take care of themselves, because this was something she couldn't refuse.
As they walked down a hallway, a sliding door opened, and they entered a large chamber. The wall was lined with benches, but there was a single chair, a wooden throne. "So, my young Cousin... are you here for a holiday, or do you intend to make Linoma your new home?" Amarantha stood beside a large bar, as she spoke she poured a thick scarlet liquid into a crystal flute.
Amarantha handed her the glass. "It's Fae's blood. Intoxicating, really. Much better than the human fare served to the masses out there."
Tina took the glass with trepidation. Besides the fact that Wren was part-Fae, to drink their blood was a dangerous thing. There was no way to know how you would react from one drink to the next. Some found it to be an addictive mind-bender, others went insane. Since she'd never had it, she didn't know what to think.
"In answer to your question, Lady - I intend to stay for a while. Whether I make a home here or not, I haven't decided."
"Hmmm. Interesting. You do know that if you are here for a time, tradition demands that a House endorse you."
Tina nodded. She'd fallen under that rule more than once. Her House, those she had begotten, were all overseas, or in training. That meant that a House in the Shire would have to take responsibly for her, give her shelter from the Sun, and a place to feed.
"Do you have a clan or House here?"
Tina nodded. "I have the Clan Summer. Those whom I study."
"It's highly unusual for our kind - even a Sanguine - to join a House not of the Shire. However," Amarantha smiled. "I am not opposed to the alternative you present. Who is in this clan?"
"Those who joined me tonight: Wren Summers, Demetrius, Dominique Destine, Lennox MacBeth. And another - Timron of Avalon. He too, is a Child of Stone."
"And they are Clan... Summer?"
"Yes."
Amarantha looked pensive. "All right, then. You may claim this... Clan Summer - as your house. But you must be under the avowal of one of our houses - for your own protection. I think the House of Lysander would be appropriate. You are not bloodkin - not one of us - but neither is he. I think he will take you in."
"As you deem."
"And as for Grange... before your friends arrived, the Summerlands were no one's grange. Now it and the territory around it are yours."
"Thank you." 'That should make Timron and Demetrius pretty damn happy,' Tina though. 'One less security nightmare for them to worry about.'
"Then, a drink. To the newest of the Family. To you, Christina of Hawthorne."
Amarantha took a deep drink from her own flute of blood. The effect was instantaneous. She lolled in her chair, caught up in a dream only she could see. Not wanting to seem out of place, Tina took a hesitant sip of her own.
The sensation hit as soon as the blood touched her lips. Her mind reeled in the flashes of color and light. Sounds, heard only once a lifetime ago, rang in her ears as if she were hearing them again for the first time. As things and places swirled together, she could hear the heavy voice of Elizabeth, David's almost-feminine laugh, and the country-rumble of Tommy's voice.
She heard his voice in her mind, the gentle tones of two countries drifting on the wind. Not quite Scottish, but not wholly Irish... She slowly dropped her resistance, and let herself slip into the memory.
It was as if she was a witness, a witness to her own past.
It was all there before her, that cold night in Belfast. She had revealed what she was, she had told Thomas everything. They'd been standing on the bluffs that overlooked the Belfast Lough, and the shipyards distant.
Thomas' reaction had not been what she'd expected. After telling her tale, she'd been fully prepared to leave. To never see Belfast - or Thomas - again.
But Thomas had stopped her.
"Ah, Brigid -- Tina -- it don' matter what you are. I know yer heart. This is as much your home as mine. You canna see that? God's peace, love...You're what I live for."
"No, you live for your work. You know what I am now. How can you still care? For 10 years, I've lied to you."
"Ye never lied. You just didn't say everything."
"But my past -- my name..."
"Just words, love. Just words."
He held her in his arms for the longest time, until the familiar pain of the approaching dawn began. Still holding her, he led her to his little Renault, and drove quickly back to the little house on the avenue. The sun was just coming up over the horizon when he laid her down on the bed, leaving a light kiss on her forehead before he went to the curtains to black out the light.
Thomas picked up a heavy afghan and laid it across her as she rested. A tear slipped down his cheek as he watched her chest rise and fall.
"God in Heaven, darlin'. What you must go through."
Tina came out of the haze slowly. She was laying on the floor, in the now-empty room.
The Sovereign had gone.
She picked herself up off the floor with difficulty. By the stiffness, she'd been laying their for at least a few hours. The ache in her bones said that the sun was up now, but she didn't know what time it was.
She found the door, and eventually made it back to the main part of the bar. The shades were drawn and the place was deserted - well, almost.
Lysander stood behind the bar, patiently waiting for her to notice him.
"What..." she said, her accent thick. "What time is it?"
Lysander pointed to the clock above his head. "Nearly noon. You should be getting out of here. Your friends were quite worried."
"Where are they?"
"They left, just before dawn. They didn't want to, but we were closing up. I assured them that you would be fine."
Tina shook the cobwebs clear from her head. "Thanks, I think."
Lysander handed her a glass. She stared at it suspiciously. "It's only blood. Human blood."
Tina took a grateful gulp.
"The Sovereign has told me that I'm to be your... guardian."
Tina nodded. Her head was clearing now, and whatever it was that she had experienced in the fog of Fae's blood was fading from her mind.
"Well, there won't be much to that. If you need me, I'm right here. If I need you..."
"You know where I am." Tina finished.
"Quite." Lysander took the empty glass, washing it quickly. "There's a car in the underground garage. I'll take you home. I expect that noon is not your best time of day."
When Tina returned to the house, she was bombarded with questions. She pushed them all aside, saying only that she had spent a long time talking to the Sovereign and that she was now officially settled in the community. She promised to begin her work again in the evening, but that she'd had a long night, and now she wanted to sleep. It was enough. By the time they'd get to asking her about it again, she'd have a plausible line to feed them. There was no way they were finding out about the Fae's blood, or about her dream.
Tina wandered out of her bathroom, dressed now in a long white nightgown that hit the floor. Her hair was down and pulled back with a wide blue ribbon. She walked from one room to another, picking things up and putting them in their proper places. One book she kept, a nice bit of bedside reading. She stopped in front of the stereo controls - Wren had managed to install a sound system in the suite - and dug through the piles of CDs. She finally found what she was looking for, and plugged it in. Setting the proper track and hitting repeat, she walked through the doors that led to her sarcophagus. She triggered the mechanism that opened the heavy lid, and once it was up, slid inside. Another trigger began the lid's descent. She turned on the tiny clip-light and snuggled under the comforter.
As she flipped through the book, a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Fin.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* -- "Pour le sang est la vie... et la vie est ici."" 'For the blood is the life, and the life is here.' (French)
"Caro" - Beloved. (Italian)
'water spout pissers'
- a typically vampire insult to a Gargoyle.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Glossary:
Avowal - membership, affiliation.
Attendants - those who are begotten with the specific intent of serving a Sovereign.
Beget/Begotten - the art of creating or being created Sanguine
'The Canons' - rules set down in Antiquity, governing the behaviors of Sanguine and Vampire. These rules govern hospitality, co-habitation, and other mores of society.
Example:
The Canon of the Veil: Live in Silence. Tell not what you are to those not of your kind.
'Children of Stone' - another name for Gargoyles.
Convocation - the governing legislative branch that oversees decisions within the Shire.
Coronation - a rite of passage where one has proven wisdom and knowledgeable. It is the ritualistic freedom given from Paragon to Scion.
Cousin - a term of endearment between a Vampire and a Sanguine.
Grange - territory, feeding grounds, living area
House - a group of Vampires or Sanguine who share a common factor; usually a paragon.
Paragon - A Sanguine who had created others like them.
Sandescant - the jargon and slang of the Sanguine. "Better start chanting." means "Talk in slang, there are too many ears."
Sanguine - a creature similar to Vampires, but with notable differences. They, unlike vampires, do not cease to live when 'changed'. They retain their ability to reproduce 'the old fashioned way' - although it is almost unheard of. They are a rarer form of the preternatural. Few Vampires know that there is a difference.
Scion - one who has been begotten by a Sanguine.
Shire - the city/ area/ grange of multiple Sanguine and Vampires existing in relative harmony.
Sovereign - head of the Convocation. Ruler of a Shire.
The Veil - The subterfuge taken by the Sanguine to remain hidden.
The Vein - the nature, ways, customs, existence of the Sanguine.
