In the year 2015, the world was filled with change. Magic was spreading
across the globe, overpowering the influence Christianity and Catholicism
once had in the ages; technology was expanding to new heights; and a new
age was beginning.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was nearly midnight when the call came in to the Los Angeles Police Department, and the call was relayed to the Criminalistics Unit, where the head of C. U. assigned the regulars to the case. However, when the regulars got to the scene, they had to call the head of C. U., for there was a problem. So, here our story began, in the office of the head of C. U.
Tapping his chin, the man was about to page his rookie agent again when a knock came from the door.
"Come in," the man snapped, and a pale-skinned blonde-haired young woman stepped uneasily into the room, closing the door behind her.
"You paged me?" she said, sitting in the chair in front of the man's desk.
"Yes," he nodded. "But apparently you must have found some reason to dawdle."
"I wasn't dawdling, sir," she explained. "I needed to finish writing the reports for the evidence I analyzed on the teenage drag-race shooting."
"Fine," he said, exasperated. "Here," he handed her a file.
"What's this?" she asked.
"It's your case," he replied. "All the information you need about the victim is in that folder. It seems your expertise in this area will finally be useful to solving a case."
"Sir?"
"The victim was Blood," he said heavily. "You're the most qualified agent in this unit to handle this kind of investigation."
"B-But, sir," she stammered. "I'm just a geneticist. I'm not qualified as a field agent."
"Well, you've just been promoted," he said, ushering her out of the room. "Oh, and try not to screw this up. Your job is depending on this one."
"Y-Yes, sir," she nodded nervously, heading to her lab to pick up her coat and head out to the scene.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Whew," the police officer exhaled as the young woman stepped out of the black Dodge Viper. She pulled a detection kit out of the passenger seat and walked around the car, locking it.
"What do we have, officer?" she asked, moving towards the body.
"A through and through," he replied, walking beside her. "In case you didn't know, this man's Blood, and one of the hierarchy at that."
"I know," she replied calmly, kneeling to examine the body. "No sign of an exit wound. This man must have been shot at close range, there's gunpowder all over his shirt." She shook her head. "Mother Night, he must have known his killer to let the guy get that close." She pulled on her gloves and carefully began to take pictures of the victim before examining the lining of his coat, where she found his wallet. "Mr. Daemonar. Oh my god."
"What is it?"
"I know this man," she replied. "His family is very well known in the other Realms." She stood up, removing her gloves. "Ask the others to finish collecting the evidence. I'll get the address of his current residence."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Welcome to Kaeleer, Ms. Jones," a man at the Gate said to the young woman. "The Embassy was expecting you."
"I guessed as much," she replied, picking up her briefcase.
"They are waiting in the first reception room," he directed her. She walked down the hallway to the closed oak door, gripping the brass handle to turn it. As she stepped inside, she grew wary at the sight and array of officers.
"Ms. Jones," the head of the group as well as the oldest in the room greeted her. "Due to the circumstances, this incident does not leave room for mistakes and missteps. A coach is waiting for you outside to be taken to Mr. Yaslana's place of residence. One of our officers will escort you, for your own safety."
"Yes, sir," she nodded, leaving the room with a rather large and bulky officer who led her to the coach outside of the building.
It was nearly dawn when they arrived at the Yaslana residence. Stepping out of the coach and thanking the driver, Ms. Jones walked up the cobblestone pathway and knocked on the door. A middle-aged woman answered the door.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm Amanda Jones from the Los Angeles Crime Lab," Ms. Jones said. "Is this the residence of a Mr. Yaslana?"
"Yes, ma'am," she replied. "Please, come inside. I'll get him." Accepting the offer, the young woman stepped inside, asking the officer to wait outside for her. She looked around, and spotted a shelf with picture frames on it. She gazed silently at the pictures for a moment and turned towards the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall. "There you are," she smiled. "Sweetheart, this is Lady Jones from Los Angeles."
"Good morning," he said to the young woman gruffly.
"Good morning," she replied. "I'm from the Los Angeles Crime Lab. Mr. Yaslana, when was the last time you saw your son?"
"Just a second ago," he replied, growing concerned by the puzzled look on her face.
"H-He's here?" she asked, swallowing hard. He nodded, and she paled. "Is it all right if I speak to him?"
"Go ahead," he shrugged. "He's in the kitchen."
"Thank you, Mr. Yaslana," she picked up her kit and walked down the hall into the kitchen. She looked at the young male sitting at the table. "Are you Daemonar Yaslana?"
"Who's asking?" he asked, looking at her.
"Sir, do you know where your identification card is?" she asked.
"It's in my wallet," he shrugged. "Why?"
"May I please see it?" she asked, setting down her kit. He pulled it out and looked, but it wasn't there.
"It's gone!" he exclaimed. "I. I had no idea."
"Sir, would there be any reason you could have given it to someone else, or left it in a hotel?" she asked.
"No way," he replied, getting up. "What're you saying?"
"Sir, we found your identification card," she said, folding her arms. "The reason I'm here is to find out how it got from your wallet to where we found it."
"Oh, right," he said with a mocking tone. "You're just doing your job, aren't you?"
"Are you mocking me?" she said shockingly. "Sir, I'm just trying to find out what happened here. A man was murdered less than twenty-four hours ago and you're mocking me for trying to find the truth and bring this case to justice?"
"You never said someone died," he replied, calming down. "Who was it?"
"Why don't you tell me," she answered. "Who did you give your card to?"
"That's the thing," he said, pacing. "I don't remember who I gave it to. I don't even remember giving it to anyone at all."
"Maybe you would like to help," she said. "It always helps when people are willing to cooperate. It progresses our investigations along very well."
"Sure," he shrugged. "What do you need?"
"Well, this man had your identification card, and I have the feeling you know him. Would you be willing to come in to identify him?" she asked.
"What good would that do?" he wondered.
"By identifying the man, we can determine certain points necessary for finishing an investigation," she explained. "If you come in with me, it will be some definite points of cooperation on your part."
"All right," he sighed. "Where is he?"
"Los Angeles, California," she answered. "By the time we're there the coroner will already be done with the post-mortem and possibly ready for sending him off to be embalmed."
"You people do that?" he wondered.
"Sir, maybe you don't really understand," she said. "When a person dies, even Blood, there bodies are always left behind. If left uncared for long enough, the body begins to decay and decompose back into the ground. If we embalm the bodies in proper timing, we preserve them as they are, and it prevents bacteria from eating away at the flesh. However, in some cases, mold will grow in reaction to the humidity of the casket and the oils used to embalm the body." Daemonar wrinkled his nose.
"That's disgusting," he said.
"The man you'll be identifying won't be embalmed yet," she pointed out. "The funeral home we send him to will be performing the embalming process." She opened the front door. "This officer will escort us to the Gates. When through customs, I'll most likely be escorting you to the coroner's office."
"Ms. Jones?" the older woman asked as the younger one was leaving. "Are you married?" She stopped, turning to face the dark-haired female.
"Was," she answered. "I'm a widow."
"Do you have any children?" she asked.
"A daughter," she responded. "She's four."
"Then you know what it feels like to raise one," the woman pointed out tartly. "Take care of my boy."
"Ma'am, though I'm more than certain he can take care of himself, I'll keep an eye on him," the young blonde said with a smile. "L. A. is a big city. You could get lost in it."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been a slow morning at the Los Angeles Police Department, and Kayla was a little relieved about it. A slow morning for her meant a safe city for its citizens. After flipping through a magazine for the thirteenth time, she finally gave up trying to keep herself interested in the catalog of the latest guns in the field. Tossing the catalog onto her desk, she perked up when she saw a familiar blond-haired woman come walking through the double doors, an arm hooked around a devastatingly handsome man's arm.
"Amanda!" Kayla called, jumping up from her chair. "Where've you been? I've been calling you nonstop for like six hours."
"Oh," the woman blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was out of town."
"Why in the Hell would you leave L. A.?" Kayla wondered aloud, her eyes glancing at the man around Amanda's arm.
"I was on business," she replied with a little laugh. "Sorry, my phone had a low battery while I was gone."
"And who is this?" Kayla asked, interested in what her friend defined as 'business'. "He sure doesn't look like business to me."
"Oh, sorry," she replied. "Daemonar, this is my friend Kayla. Kayla, this is Daemonar. He's here to identify the through and through we got last night on patrol."
"Oh," Kayla nodded. "Sure he is."
"Kayla," Amanda said in a rather bossy tone. "I have a husband."
"Had," Kayla corrected.
"And a daughter," she continued. "Trust me, we haven't really had time to go guy hunting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work I need to do, and Daemonar has other things to do as well, I'll bet."
"Like identify a body and hightail it out of here," he said meekly.
"Come on, the coroner's office is this way," Amanda said, leading him down the hall towards the door labeled 'morgue'. She knocked and poked her head inside. "Doctor? Are you in here?"
"Ah, it's you," the old man at the desk said with a bit of a smile. "I was wondering when you'd come around for the post-mortem. Ms. Jones, is it?"
"Yeah, I guess we haven't really been properly introduced," she said sheepishly. "Most people know me as the geek in the lab."
"Then that makes us both geeks," he laughed. "Come on, I'll show you your John Doe." He walked over to the metal examination table and pulled the sheet slightly away from the body.
"Mother Night," Daemonar gasped for air as he recognized the man's face.
"So, you know this man?" she asked him.
"Yes, I know him," he nodded. "Or, I knew him. He was one of my best friends."
"Did he have a name?" she asked.
"His name was Thomas Cormac," he said. "But I don't know why someone would want him dead. Everyone loved him. He was the nicest man I ever knew."
"Doctor? What was his cause of death?" she asked the coroner.
"Cause of death," the old man replied, "Bullet to the head and the heart. No way to determine which actually delivered the fatal blow, but the one to his head fractured his skull."
"Do you still have the bullets from the body?" she asked.
"I knew you'd ask, so I cleaned them up and bagged them for you," he smiled. "There all ready to be tested in the lab. Your area of expertise."
"Great, now I can isolate what type of gun was used," she smiled, then frowned at the sight of Daemonar. "Um, can I talk to you a minute outside?" She led him by the arm out of the coroner's office and looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said hollowly. "It's just that I've known Thomas ever since I was five."
"I know the feeling," she answered. "The longest I've been friends with one of my best friends was since I was three. I met her on the first day of school and we've never really stopped talking, even after I moved here to L. A." She sighed. "If you want, I'll take you back to the Embassy to be escorted home."
"It's not quite that simple," he replied. "No, I have a confession to make."
"What is it?" she asked, growing quieter.
"Thomas' death wasn't an accident," he said. "Whoever killed him did it for a reason, as a warning to me. I have reason to believe I'm their next target."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked.
"My father doesn't know I come here," he said quietly. "He would disown me if he ever knew I came here to the landen Realm."
"Because it's tainted?" she wondered, and he nodded. "Daemonar, let me explain something to you. The universe is filled with good things and bad things. Now, I know your father discourages this Realm for its bad influences it's made on Blood citizens, but the universe can't exist with all good and no evil. There are good things in this Realm that he doesn't know of since he won't see past its flaws. Besides, you're past the age of immigration, and old enough to not need parental permission to live on your own in this or other Realms. You know that."
"Yeah, but if he ever found out I did anything here," he folded his wings. "He'd kill me for sure."
"Well, it looks to me someone else has decided to take on your father's role," she said. "Someone's trying to keep you from living, and I have to find out who. Until we get this guy, I recommend you join the W. P. Program."
"The what?"
"The Witness Protection Program," she answered. "It keeps you in hiding and low profile until the government determines its safe for you to leave hiding."
"I can't do that, then my father would definitely know something's up," he said. "Isn't there anything else we can do?"
"The only other option is to assign an officer to guard you," she pointed out. "Officers have been trained to handle guarding certain individuals, regardless of their fighting skills. Whoever would be assigned to you would be the best of the best, due to your hierarchy in the system."
"Thank you," he smiled in relief. "I'll take that over the Witness Program."
"Fine, but I have to go back in there and get those samples so I can start processing them. After that I'll make a few phone calls, talk to my boss, and find you the right officer for the job," she answered, stepping back into the office to collect the bullet samples from the coroner.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Why me? Why do these things always happen to me? Kayla wondered as she walked out of her boss's office. I'm an investigator, not some punk's body guard. I was trained to find the answers and protect the citizens from danger, not babysit some idiot who did something stupid and now has to go into hiding for it. And he wouldn't even tell me the guy's name! He just said something about this fool being from a high class family. She scowled as she walked back to her desk so she could wait in what is supposed to be patient manner for the guy she was supposed to be guarding. A half an hour went by, and still no sign of anyone.
"This is ridiculous," Kayla grumbled as she stood up and went to grab her jacket.
"Detective, you weren't intending on leaving now, were you?" a voice said behind her. Jumping, she spun around, surprised that her boss would personally show up at her desk.
"No, sir," she shook her head. "I was. just getting a cup of coffee."
"Good, because I just came to tell you I brought your charge," he said with a bit of a grin. She almost groaned out loud and laughed at the same time at the sight of the young man she had seen locking arms with her friend earlier. Daemonar, Amanda had said his name was. "Detective, this is Mr. Yaslana. You are to keep him safe from any danger."
"Yes, sir," she said with an exasperated sigh.
"Don't give me that look," he snarled. "You screw this up, Detective, and you'll find yourself out of a job. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded. She scowled some more as she watched her boss turn and march off down the hall back to his office. "Damn jackass."
"You don't like him much, do you?" Daemonar asked, folding his arms.
"If your boss hated you, would you like him either?" she replied, and he shook his head. "I didn't think so."
"You were about to leave, weren't you?" he asked, studying her facial expression.
"N-No," she shook her head. "What would ever give you that idea?"
"The fact that you had gotten up and were just grabbing your coat when we showed up gave me a clue," he said with a grin. "Your boss said I would be staying with you for a little while, I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," she drawled sarcastically. "I've always wanted to offer my home to a complete stranger on behalf of what my job entitles me to do."
"You don't like me very much, do you?" he asked.
"No shit, Sherlock," she rolled her eyes. "But since my job's on the line here, I have no choice but to put up with you."
"Ooh, goodie," he said sarcastically. "I always wanted a cop who hated me to have to protect me when my life was at stake."
"Good," she smiled. "At least you have a sense of humor." She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and an awkward silence followed. "So, where's Amanda?"
"She had to go back to Kaeleer on business," he shrugged. "Guess it's to do with the case she's on."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The sunlight was mesmerizing as Amanda stepped onto the gravel road, walking up the pathway through the extravagant garden towards the quaint little house at the end of the path. She had seen it once before, had spoken to the woman who lived there with her garden, had met the woman's wisdom, had learned so much from her. Now, it felt like the verge of autumn as she knocked on her old mentor's door. There was a bit of commotion inside before the graying-haired woman answered the door.
"So, you've finally returned to me," the old woman told her, smiling a little. "Come in, come in, let's have a look at you."
"Thanks, Adria," Amanda said with a smile before stepping into the house. "Wow, you certainly have changed this place. I hardly recognize it."
"The kids like it," the old woman nodded absently. "The younger ones from the nearby villages like to come and here my stories, and they said I needed a change in atmosphere."
"You always were one to comply," she answered.
"So, what brings you to Kaeleer?" the old woman began to bustle around the kitchen. "Would you like some tea or coffee?"
"Tea's fine," Amanda answered, taking a seat at the small birch table and folding her hands politely. "I'm here on business. I thought it'd be nice to come and visit, see how you were."
"You always were a good kid, Amanda, you know that," Adria answered, sitting down only after she had placed the kettle on the stove. "You always put everyone else before yourself." She shook her head. "No, but that isn't what brought you here, to me."
"I never could keep secrets from you, Adria," she smiled. "Actually, I'm here to talk to the Yaslana family."
"Ah," the woman nodded. "But the news you bring isn't pleasant."
"No, their son has to be kept in custody for a while in L. A.," Amanda admitted. "He's involved in a case and if we let him come back here his assassin will finish what he started. Don't worry, Kayla's taking good care of him."
"Daemonar is a stubborn boy," Adria stated. "He won't like being guarded by a girl."
"Well, it's either that or nothing, and he chose open protection instead of the Witness Protection Program," Amanda shrugged. "It's my job to do whatever I can to finish the investigation and close the case. The sooner I do the better off we'll all be."
"And you'll bring Madeline to see me?" Adria asked.
"She needs a good teacher, Adria," Amanda nodded. "You're the best that I've met to teach her, and without the right studies, she won't receive a Birthright at all." She smiled. "I can still remember the first day she came home and said she could move objects just by thinking about them." Just as she was lost in the memory, the cover to the kettle popped off, steam searing through the spout.
"Oh, the water's done," Adria jumped up and quickly poured two mugs of steaming water and set a teabag in each mug, placing on in front of Amanda and settling down the drink from her own.
"I'll bring her as soon as the apartment is sold," the young woman smiled, getting up. "Thanks for your time."
"Wait," Adria said. "There's something you've been wondering about. A man, perhaps?"
"Now that you mention it." Amanda shrugged. "It hasn't even been a year since the accident, Adria, and now I'm worried. Adria, I think Eric is still alive. I don't know how I know, but there's just this feeling deep down that he didn't actually drown like the police told me. Though, how Kayla could make a mistake like that would be remarkable."
"You're afraid for your daughter," she accused, and the younger woman nodded. "Now, I know your man, I married you two, for goodness' sake. It just doesn't seem like him to nearly die and not go back to his darling wife or his precious daughter. I'm not sure about the matter, but if you'd like, I'll look into it for you."
"Would you?" Amanda sounded relieved. "If anything comes up."
"I know who to call," Adria said with a smile. "Now, go. You'll miss your chance to talk to the Yaslana Prince if you don't."
"Thanks, Adria. I don't know where I'd be without you," Amanda smiled. "You're like a mother to me." Saying this, she got up from the table and left, now determined to complete her business in Kaeleer.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was midmorning by the time she reached the Yaslana residence. Walking briskly up to the door, she knocked and waited patiently for someone to answer. Again, it was his wife, Marian, who answered the door.
"Oh, it's you again," she said with a smile. "Was my son of any help?"
"Of course," Amanda replied. "Um, may I come in?"
"Certainly," she nodded, opening the door wider to let the younger woman inside. "What brings you about twice in the same week?"
"I have some news for you," she replied. "Is your husband here? He'll need to hear this, too."
"Right this way," Marian said, leading her down the hall to a calm atmospheric room with big windows and comfy furniture. "Lucivar, look who's come back."
"Well, well, if it isn't Ms. Jones from the L. A. P. D.," he said with a grin, standing up.
"Please, have a seat," Amanda said seriously, which concerned him. "Both of you."
"All right," Marian responded warily, sitting down on the couch beside her husband. "Is Daemonar in some kind of trouble?"
"Not exactly," Amanda replied. "When I brought him in, he was able to identify the man as Thomas Cormac. Now, I don't know if that means anything to you, but."
"Thomas was Daemonar's best friend growing up," Marian gasped. "You mean to say he's dead?"
"Unfortunately," Amanda nodded. "We have reason to believe that Mr. Cormac's death wasn't the intended fate for him. The killer is still out there, and we think that your son is the next target."
"Mother Night," Marian paled. "Is he all right?"
"Yes, he's fine," she answered. "He's being taken care of. An officer was already assigned to protect him, and she is one of the best."
"She?" Lucivar asked.
"Yes," she nodded. "She is one of my closest friends, I know she'll do her best to make sure your son is unharmed until we complete the investigation. In the meantime, until we've determined it's safe to return your son to you, we think it's best that you try not to contact him. Kayla will give me updates, as she normally does, about him, in which case I can rely back to you. Other than that, it's the only source of information you'll have about your son at this time."
"Why can't we speak to him?"
"He's a warrior, he doesn't need someone to protect him," Lucivar protested.
"Sir, your son may have the knowledge of self-defense, but when it comes to the technology in the other Realm, he is at a loss. Kayla, on the other hand, is fully qualified to make sure he doesn't get shot, kidnapped, or killed," Amanda explained. "He may not like it, but it was his choice. She may not like it, but I trust her and recommend her above all the other officers in the department." She bowed her head a little. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to the Embassy and continue the investigation here."
"Here?" Marian asked.
"They thought it would be best if I stayed in Kaeleer and worked on the case from a monitored location where I could quickly and efficiently complete the investigation," she explained. "However, the Embassy requires that I have a resident of the area assist me in the case for my own safety. I need to go back so they can tell me who that particular resident is. And they don't like it when I'm late."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was only an hour later when Amanda arrived at the Embassy. Walking quickly to the service desk, she gave the receptionist her name and showed her an I.D. The receptionist shook her head as she pointed down the hallway.
"Last door on your left," the woman told her.
"Thanks," Amanda nodded as she nearly ran down the hallway to the board room. "Sorry I'm late, I got caught in traffic."
"It hasn't been the first time," the man said irritably. "Well, your charge is waiting for you in the next room. He said he'd heard the situation and wanted to help."
"Do you know where I'll be staying?" she asked, ruffling her hair.
"An estate in the Dhemlan Territory, that's all I can tell you," he replied, pushing her through the door into the next room. He hastily closed the door behind her and she looked at him with wide eyes, then turning to face her charge.
"Well, I'll be darned if it ain't the one man who should hate me right now," she said with a smile. "I thought I'd have left before you."
"You did, and I don't hate you, you were just doing your job," he replied. "Now, it's time to do mine. You said you needed someone to protect you while you're here, and I outrank most people in this Realm."
"Well, that's good to know," she nodded. "But by volunteering, do you realize that you'll spend most of your time helping me and being away from your wife?"
"Not where we'll be staying," he grinned. "They told you it was an estate in Dhemlan?"
"Yeah, though I don't see why." she stopped. "Are you telling me you asked them to hide me at SaDiablo Hall?"
"Let's just say I know its owner," he replied. "Haven't visited in a while, and it's about time that I do."
"And the fact that the Hall can withstand strong attacks from just about anything didn't also influence your decision?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, I never thought about that," he admitted. "Now that you mention it."
"Oh, geez," she laughed a little. "Just let me call home and then we'll leave. Okay?"
"Fine with me," he shrugged. She pulled out a cell phone from her pocket and used speed dial to call her apartment. A woman answered on the first ring.
"Yeah, Cindy? How's Maddie doing?" she spoke. "Okay, let me talk to her." A pause. "Maddie? How you doing, honey? Yeah, I know I've been gone for a while. I've been busy, sweetie. Maddie, mommy's going to be gone for a little while longer, so I want you to be a good girl and behave for Cindy. Oh, I don't know how long I'll be gone, kiddo. A few days, maybe longer. I know, I miss you too. I'll call you as often as I can, okay? All right, sweetie, could you put Cindy back on the phone? Thanks. Bye, munchkin. Cindy? Yeah, I know. It's only going to be a few more days, a week or two at most. I know you have other things to do during your day, but I need you now, Cindy, you can't just leave Maddie home alone. Make sure she doesn't stay up too late or else she won't get up for school in the morning. What should you do? Give her a large glass of milk with two cookies, that always works. All right, thanks. Bye." She hung up the phone and sighed heavily. Lucivar was staring at her. She noticed and put her phone away. "I just had to check up on my daughter. You know how little kids are."
"How old is she?" he asked.
"She's four," she answered. "I've been gone a lot lately, working late every night and asking my neighbor to babysit her for me. I really hate not being around for her, but it's the only option."
"Why is that?" he asked, opening the door.
"I'm a single mom with a four-year-old girl struggling to pay rent for our home," she replied. "The only way to make the money is working overtime. Being a geneticist doesn't pay that much, you know." She smiled a little. "My husband was usually the big money-maker in the family. Now that he's gone, I have quite a load to handle."
"How long has it been?"
"Nine months," she replied automatically. "It'll have been a year this winter. It's how he."
"I understand," he said. "Losing him must have been hard on you."
"Not just me, but Maddie, too. Oh, he adored her, and she was his little girl," she sniffed. "I could never replace him. I'm not as good a dad as I am a mom."
"Ah," he said with a bit of amusement. "Do you think your work will always provide the life you want your daughter to live?"
"No," she admitted. "I was hoping to earn enough money to move here, to Kaeleer. It would be better for Maddie, and she could be with other children like her." He gave her a quizzical look. "Maddie is half-Blood. Eric never mentioned it to me, and so it was quite the shock when I found out. My little Maddie came home, gave me a hug, and with a wave of her hand she moved her books from her arms to the countertop, a good whole head above her and just out of arms' reach for her."
"And you're okay with it?" he wondered, and she nodded.
"Of course I am," she said. "Why wouldn't I be? I mean, besides the fact that Eric never told me he was Blood and that Maddie can wreak havoc if she's upset, I think it's wonderful. It just goes to prove that the Blood and landens can live on similar ground as equal individuals." She smiled. "I think of it as a mutual relationship. We both contribute and we both benefit from the contributions made." She looked around. "Now, let's get going before we get there after dark falls." "Right," he agreed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Of course, regardless of how quickly Lucivar carried Amanda on the Winds to Dhemlan, they still arrived at the Hall around suppertime.
"So, this is the Hall," she breathed, stepping onto the pavement from the landing Web. "It's even bigger than I'd thought it would be." She exhaled in interest. "This must have been built at least twenty centuries ago, judging by its architecture. It's amazing that an edifice could last that long."
"To you, I suppose," Lucivar explained. "But to the longer-lived races, it doesn't seem that long."
"I know," she said with a shiver of excitement. "The average life span for me would be a hundred years, give or take about fifteen. But for you. you're like. ancient compared to me."
"And I'm beginning to feel that way," he said dryly.
"I don't mean it in a bad way or anything, but." she bit her lower lip. "To me, it's like you were alive before the invention of electricity and real technology."
"Thanks," he said sarcastically.
"No offense," she said meekly.
"None taken," he replied.
"I guess I'm still not used to it," she said with a nervous laugh. "I was seventeen when the first Gate was created in my Realm. I'd hate to say it, but ten years isn't enough time to adapt to that kind of change, unless you were born and raised in the change itself."
"Well, come on, no need to be wasting daylight out here," he shrugged, starting up the stairs.
"Right behind you," she agreed, skipping every other step to catch up to him. She waited patiently and quietly as he knocked on the big mahogany doors. Her eyes widened at the sight of a rather irritated middle-aged man. His facial expression relaxed as he recognized Lucivar.
"Beale," Lucivar acknowledged.
"Prince Yaslana," he replied. "The Lady was just about to have dinner."
"I'm sure she was," he said dryly. "This is Lady."
"Jones," she extended her hand. "Amanda Jones." Surprised, Beale accepted the gesture and smiled a bit. "It's nice to meet you."
"As well you," he replied with gratitude. "Please, come inside." He opened the door wider and closed it when the two had entered. "Prince Sadi and Lady Angelline are in the drawing room."
"Thank you, Beale," Lucivar nodded. "Come on then."
"Oh," Amanda said sadly. "Maybe we could just."
"No, we go see them now," he answered, giving her an authoritative look.
"Oh, all right," she sighed. "It was nice meeting you, Beale. Maybe later I can talk to you some more."
"Sounds wonderful, Lady," he smiled, waving goodbye as she reluctantly left the butler at the front door. She followed Lucivar down the hall until he pushed a door open. There was a bit of a commotion inside, and she peered inside only to be dragged in.
"I can walk, you know," she said with annoyance.
"Lucivar, who's this?" a man Amanda only assumed was Daemon asked. Just then her phone rang and she sighed.
"Hang on," she pulled it out, answering it. "Hello? Oh, hi Kayla. Yeah, what's up? Of course he is. No, you can't leave him home alone! That isn't why you were assigned to him! I know you have little league practice, but you'll just have to take him with you. Oh, that. Well, try to explain to them without actually telling them anything. Like what? Oh, I don't know, tell them he's the new assistant coach or something. Kayla, remember that if you lose him, it's not just your hide on the line. Yeah, he's here with me. No, you can't talk to him." She covered the mouthpiece. "She wants to talk to you," she held the phone out to Lucivar. With a puzzled look he accepted it, quietly speaking to the woman on the other end of the line.
"What's going on?" Daemon demanded.
"Long story short, your nephew is in custody for a murder investigation," she answered. "And it seems the officer assigned to guard him is becoming a little snippy about what to do with him." Lucivar stepped towards her, returning the phone. She accepted it, talking to Kayla again. "Yeah? Oh, well, hang on, I'll see who it is." She pressed a button on her phone. "Hello? Maddie, what are you doing up so late? It's past your bedtime. What do you mean Cindy's in the hospital? You aren't home alone, are you? Maddie, go next door and ask Mrs. Taylor if you can stay with her until I have Kayla come and pick you up. No, sweetie, you can't stay home by yourself, it isn't safe, and you won't have any way of getting to school tomorrow. I'll see what I can do about bringing you here, okay? But until that happens, you have to go next door, okay? All right, goodnight, Maddie." She pressed another button on the phone. "Kayla? You need to do me a huge favor. Go to my apartment and pick Maddie up, will you? No, Cindy can't take care of her. Kayla, you'll just have to do it. Look, I'll pay you if I have to, but Maddie can't stay home alone in that neighborhood, especially at that age! Thanks, you're the best. Bye." She sighed heavily and put the phone away.
"What happened?" Lucivar asked her. She looked at him with a worried expression.
"Maddie's home alone," she explained. "Apparently Cindy fell down the stairs and broke a leg. She'll be in the hospital for a while. Well, at least Daemonar won't be completely alone while Kayla's at practice." He gave her an odd look. "She coaches a little league team in her spare time."
"Don't you have any backup babysitters in case of emergencies?" he asked.
"No," she shook her head. "Do you know how hard it is to find a babysitter on short notice who's willing to take care of a four-year-old? I mean, my neighbors don't seem to mind watching her while I'm at work, but there's only so much they can do. They have lives of their own, you know, and watching Maddie is a full-time job."
"Why don't you bring her here?" Jaenelle asked her.
"That's just the problem," Amanda sighed. "I can come here as often as needed because of my work, since the Embassy pays for it. But they won't bother paying the expenses for bringing a child through the Gates. It's expensive, and I don't have that kind of money right now. Now that I think of it, I never had that kind of money." She sighed again. "I'm still paying off school tuition for Maddie this year. And I don't even know if we'll make the rent payment for the apartment on time." She remembered the letter the Embassy had given her before she left the Gates. "Um, here. It's a letter from the Embassy giving me permission to stay here until I've gathered enough evidence and analyses to close the investigation."
"I see," Jaenelle took it from her hand, reading through it quickly. "Well, then, I guess you're our guest here until we have this problem solved."
"Thanks," Amanda said with relief, smiling a little. "I really hope it isn't an inconvenience."
"It isn't," Jaenelle replied. "What did you say your name was?"
"I didn't," she answered. "But it's Amanda."
"Well, Amanda, let me show you your room, and we'll let these two boys catch up," Jaenelle said, leading the younger woman out the door and down the hallway towards the stairwell. "Does this type of thing happen often?"
"Not for me," Amanda replied. "Normally I just work in the lab and analyze the evidence. But since I was the only qualified person in my unit for the case, I was promoted to Field Agent. That's about as much I can tell you, for security reasons. You understand."
"Yes," Jaenelle answered. "Criminal investigations tend to be kept as secret as possible for safety precautions."
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I do know what goes on in other Realms," Jaenelle replied with a hint of a smile. "Well, here we are. Your room for as long as you stay with us."
"Thank you so much," Amanda said gratefully. "This really helps me out a lot."
"Do you work part-time?"
"Full-time, actually. I used to work part-time, but now."
"Is it really as stressful as people say it is?"
"That depends. Are you referring to on the everyday basis or right now?"
"Everyday basis, I suppose."
"Normally, it would be fine. Labwork is fairly soothing to the mind. But lately. with the problems with the babysitters and the promotion to the field. it's been hectic."
"Well, get some rest, and hopefully you'll feel better in the morning," she opened the door and turned on the light. "The balcony leads to the garden, but try not to wander around out there. There are people patrolling this estate, including the garden. There's hot running water, so you could take a bath to relieve some of the stress."
"Thanks, I think I just might do that," Amanda said, smiling shyly.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, mademoiselle," she watched Jaenelle close the door and then she pulled out a pair of gloves from her pocket. "Boy am I glad I still have these." Pulling them on, she called in several items she'd need for the days ahead, like clothes and certain feminine necessities. The last thing she called in before putting the gloves away was a picture frame containing the last picture ever taken of the three of them together before the accident. "Why'd you leave us, Eric? Why'd you have to die?" she wondered aloud sadly. A moment of silence came and went. Shaking her head, she went into the bathroom to turn on the bath water. As she waited for the water to fill the tub, she put her things in the closet and in the dresser, leaving her pajamas sitting out on the bed.
Settling into the bathtub to relax, she closed her eyes and listened to the water swirl around her, letting her stress slip away. This is so much better than being pestered to hurry up in the lab every night, she thought to herself as she began to drift asleep. The innate sense that someone was watching her alerted her mind, causing the sleepiness to leave for the time being. Opening her eyes, she examined the room, but no on was there. With a sigh, she decided she had soaked long enough in the water, and let the water drain from the tub as she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her mid- section. She dried herself off and slowly drifted back into the bedroom, slipping on some undergarments before touching the pajamas waiting for her.
Once fully-clothed, she began to put her jewelry back on. She stopped when she saw her wedding ring sitting on the nightstand, and stared for a long time at it, wondering if she should put it on. She shook her head, slipping it on like always, then stopped, taking it off again. She got up and went back towards the bathroom, but turned around again only to snatch the ring and place it on her finger. Content, she finished her preparations, and turned off all but the lamp by her bedside. After attempting to read several times, she gave up and went to sleep, turning off the light.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
She didn't remember when she had woken up or why, but all she did know was that she was awake but slightly drowsy. She shifted beneath the covers, but frowned a little when she felt that same presence again, the same one from her bath. She reached over the covers to touch the empty space beside her only to find something was there, something made of flesh. Startled, she opened her eyes, slipped out of the covers, and backed away from the bed, afraid of what was lying there. When she saw nothing, she fell to the ground, crying. She knew that smell anywhere, she'd known his scent for seven years, and it only reminded her of what she no longer had.
As she lay there, shaking silently to relieve the tears, she felt someone moving towards her door. She got up, wiping away her tears. Just as someone knocked softly, she moved to open the door, and felt the presence again, only behind her this time, as if guarding her. She opened the door.
"J-Jaenelle?" she whispered. "What are you doing up so late?"
"I was about to ask you the same question," Jaenelle replied. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, everything's fine," she said, folding her arms.
"I heard you crying," Jaenelle pressed.
"I had a nightmare, that's all," she shrugged it off. She noticed Jaenelle was no longer looking at her, but something behind her. She turned and saw nothing. "What are you looking at? There's no one else here."
"I thought I saw." Jaenelle stopped. "I guess I was just imagining things. Is it all right if I stay in here for a while? Just until you can fall back asleep?"
"Um, sure, yeah, I guess," she opened the door wider, letting Jaenelle step past her. "So, you couldn't sleep either?"
"On occasion, no," Jaenelle answered, looking around the room. Her gaze rested on the picture frame by the mirror. "Who's this?" she asked, picking up the picture.
"Oh, that's me and my family," she replied with a little sniffle. "My husband Eric and our daughter, Maddie."
"What happened to him?" she asked.
"He. he drowned. Nine months ago," she replied hesitantly. "Sometimes it still feels as if he's there with me. Then I look and he isn't there, and I realize he's never coming back." She took her time breathing, struggling to keep the tears away and her voice from cracking. "Maddie misses him a lot. She needs her father."
"And what about you?"
"I can't begin to tell you," she said with a little laugh. "Let's just say I'm lost without him."
"Would it help if I created a shadow?" Jaenelle asked, watching her carefully.
"You would do that?" she asked in disbelief. "You would do that for me?" She shook her head. "No, I don't deserve it."
"Why do you judge so quickly?" Jaenelle asked. "Who says you don't?"
"I appreciate the offer, but if I accepted. I'd be living a lie," she explained. "I'd know it wasn't real."
"What about just for tonight?" Jaenelle continued. "Then, in the morning, you could tell me whether or not you'd want to continue it."
She thought about this for a moment. Finally she sighed. "All right, but just tonight."
"Wonderful," Jaenelle smiled, rolling up her sleeves. With a wave of her hands, she began to explain how a shadow was created. When she had finished the verbal lesson, the exact image Amanda once remembered of her belated husband was standing before both of them, wearing only a pair of trousers. "See? How do you like him?"
"Oh, Jaenelle." she breathed. "He's wonderful. Just as I remembered." She smiled. "Perfect in every way."
"I think I'll let you get back to bed," Jaenelle said with a little grin. "You don't need me hanging around here and spoiling your fun."
"Thank you. Thank you so much," she said, tears forming on the edges of her eyes.
"Let me know in the morning," Jaenelle said as she left. Amanda closed the door behind her, and slowly turned to look back at her shadow.
He was just standing there silently, staring at her, observing her emotions as they swirled in her. She pulled her bathrobe off and slipped back under the covers of the rather large bed. She waited quietly as he moved to slip under the covers beside her, only after averting her gaze slightly to allow him to strip completely. She didn't know what it was about him, but she knew he had always liked sleeping naked. She had expected the shadow to react the same way, and he did.
She just sat there for a minute or two, uncertain that if she touched him she wouldn't actually touch flesh, since shadows were like that. But he made the first move, slipping his arms around her and pulling her closer to him, resting his head on her shoulders.
"I missed you," he whispered. She blinked a few tears, and then shifted her head so she could see him.
"I missed you," she said, almost inaudibly.
"Go to sleep," he murmured, kissing her head. "I won't go anywhere."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Content, she sighed happily, drifting into a deep sleep. It must have been a good dream, since she woke up smiling.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ebony~ So, what do you think of the story so far?
Softball Chick~ Erm. ::scratches head:: Should I care?
Ebony~ Okay, screw you and your opinion. ::shakes her head:: So,
Demonic, what do you think of it so far?
Demonic~ When am I going to be written into this story? ::gives
Ebony an offended look::
Ebony~ Soon. Very soon.
Demonic~ You've written in yourself, you've written in Softball
Chick. ::sniffs:: Why leave me out?
Ebony~ Read the next chapter. Maybe you'll be in it.
Demonic~ Seriously? You really mean I'll be in the next chapter
with you guys?
Ebony~ ::nods:: So, don't go all tear-jerking offended just because
you aren't in the first chapter. For good reason.
Demonic~ And what reason is that?
Ebony~ That Softball Chick will make fun of your ass for the rest of
the story in these little post-chapter conversations. ::gives
Softball Chick an odd look:: And you know she will.
Softball Chick~ ::grins evilly:: I can handle that, you can handle
writing and editing, and Demonic. Well, she can just handle the
male reviews, since that's her only interest anyways.
Ebony~ First of all, Softball Chick, it's "anyway" not "anyways".
::Softball Chick rolls her eyes:: And secondly. Well, I guess
you're right about Demonic.
Demonic~ ::blinks:: I resent that!
Ebony and Softball Chick in unison~ YOU RESENT EVERYTHING!
Ebony~ Regardless of verbal response.
Demonic~ ::jaw drops:: I don't think I want to be your friends
anymore. ::begins to walk away::
Ebony~ ::grins and folds arms:: So then I guess I don't have to
write you in the next chapter after all.
Softball Chick~ ::does little dance around the room:: Hurray! Now
we have more story space!
Demonic~ ::jaw drops and lower lip quivers a bit::
Ebony~ I know, I know. You resent everything. ::sighs:: Well,
folks, I guess we'd better move on to the next chapter before
Demonic has another resentment attack and Softball Chick over there
dies lacking oxygen due to her lungs closing up with laughter.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was nearly midnight when the call came in to the Los Angeles Police Department, and the call was relayed to the Criminalistics Unit, where the head of C. U. assigned the regulars to the case. However, when the regulars got to the scene, they had to call the head of C. U., for there was a problem. So, here our story began, in the office of the head of C. U.
Tapping his chin, the man was about to page his rookie agent again when a knock came from the door.
"Come in," the man snapped, and a pale-skinned blonde-haired young woman stepped uneasily into the room, closing the door behind her.
"You paged me?" she said, sitting in the chair in front of the man's desk.
"Yes," he nodded. "But apparently you must have found some reason to dawdle."
"I wasn't dawdling, sir," she explained. "I needed to finish writing the reports for the evidence I analyzed on the teenage drag-race shooting."
"Fine," he said, exasperated. "Here," he handed her a file.
"What's this?" she asked.
"It's your case," he replied. "All the information you need about the victim is in that folder. It seems your expertise in this area will finally be useful to solving a case."
"Sir?"
"The victim was Blood," he said heavily. "You're the most qualified agent in this unit to handle this kind of investigation."
"B-But, sir," she stammered. "I'm just a geneticist. I'm not qualified as a field agent."
"Well, you've just been promoted," he said, ushering her out of the room. "Oh, and try not to screw this up. Your job is depending on this one."
"Y-Yes, sir," she nodded nervously, heading to her lab to pick up her coat and head out to the scene.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Whew," the police officer exhaled as the young woman stepped out of the black Dodge Viper. She pulled a detection kit out of the passenger seat and walked around the car, locking it.
"What do we have, officer?" she asked, moving towards the body.
"A through and through," he replied, walking beside her. "In case you didn't know, this man's Blood, and one of the hierarchy at that."
"I know," she replied calmly, kneeling to examine the body. "No sign of an exit wound. This man must have been shot at close range, there's gunpowder all over his shirt." She shook her head. "Mother Night, he must have known his killer to let the guy get that close." She pulled on her gloves and carefully began to take pictures of the victim before examining the lining of his coat, where she found his wallet. "Mr. Daemonar. Oh my god."
"What is it?"
"I know this man," she replied. "His family is very well known in the other Realms." She stood up, removing her gloves. "Ask the others to finish collecting the evidence. I'll get the address of his current residence."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Welcome to Kaeleer, Ms. Jones," a man at the Gate said to the young woman. "The Embassy was expecting you."
"I guessed as much," she replied, picking up her briefcase.
"They are waiting in the first reception room," he directed her. She walked down the hallway to the closed oak door, gripping the brass handle to turn it. As she stepped inside, she grew wary at the sight and array of officers.
"Ms. Jones," the head of the group as well as the oldest in the room greeted her. "Due to the circumstances, this incident does not leave room for mistakes and missteps. A coach is waiting for you outside to be taken to Mr. Yaslana's place of residence. One of our officers will escort you, for your own safety."
"Yes, sir," she nodded, leaving the room with a rather large and bulky officer who led her to the coach outside of the building.
It was nearly dawn when they arrived at the Yaslana residence. Stepping out of the coach and thanking the driver, Ms. Jones walked up the cobblestone pathway and knocked on the door. A middle-aged woman answered the door.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm Amanda Jones from the Los Angeles Crime Lab," Ms. Jones said. "Is this the residence of a Mr. Yaslana?"
"Yes, ma'am," she replied. "Please, come inside. I'll get him." Accepting the offer, the young woman stepped inside, asking the officer to wait outside for her. She looked around, and spotted a shelf with picture frames on it. She gazed silently at the pictures for a moment and turned towards the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall. "There you are," she smiled. "Sweetheart, this is Lady Jones from Los Angeles."
"Good morning," he said to the young woman gruffly.
"Good morning," she replied. "I'm from the Los Angeles Crime Lab. Mr. Yaslana, when was the last time you saw your son?"
"Just a second ago," he replied, growing concerned by the puzzled look on her face.
"H-He's here?" she asked, swallowing hard. He nodded, and she paled. "Is it all right if I speak to him?"
"Go ahead," he shrugged. "He's in the kitchen."
"Thank you, Mr. Yaslana," she picked up her kit and walked down the hall into the kitchen. She looked at the young male sitting at the table. "Are you Daemonar Yaslana?"
"Who's asking?" he asked, looking at her.
"Sir, do you know where your identification card is?" she asked.
"It's in my wallet," he shrugged. "Why?"
"May I please see it?" she asked, setting down her kit. He pulled it out and looked, but it wasn't there.
"It's gone!" he exclaimed. "I. I had no idea."
"Sir, would there be any reason you could have given it to someone else, or left it in a hotel?" she asked.
"No way," he replied, getting up. "What're you saying?"
"Sir, we found your identification card," she said, folding her arms. "The reason I'm here is to find out how it got from your wallet to where we found it."
"Oh, right," he said with a mocking tone. "You're just doing your job, aren't you?"
"Are you mocking me?" she said shockingly. "Sir, I'm just trying to find out what happened here. A man was murdered less than twenty-four hours ago and you're mocking me for trying to find the truth and bring this case to justice?"
"You never said someone died," he replied, calming down. "Who was it?"
"Why don't you tell me," she answered. "Who did you give your card to?"
"That's the thing," he said, pacing. "I don't remember who I gave it to. I don't even remember giving it to anyone at all."
"Maybe you would like to help," she said. "It always helps when people are willing to cooperate. It progresses our investigations along very well."
"Sure," he shrugged. "What do you need?"
"Well, this man had your identification card, and I have the feeling you know him. Would you be willing to come in to identify him?" she asked.
"What good would that do?" he wondered.
"By identifying the man, we can determine certain points necessary for finishing an investigation," she explained. "If you come in with me, it will be some definite points of cooperation on your part."
"All right," he sighed. "Where is he?"
"Los Angeles, California," she answered. "By the time we're there the coroner will already be done with the post-mortem and possibly ready for sending him off to be embalmed."
"You people do that?" he wondered.
"Sir, maybe you don't really understand," she said. "When a person dies, even Blood, there bodies are always left behind. If left uncared for long enough, the body begins to decay and decompose back into the ground. If we embalm the bodies in proper timing, we preserve them as they are, and it prevents bacteria from eating away at the flesh. However, in some cases, mold will grow in reaction to the humidity of the casket and the oils used to embalm the body." Daemonar wrinkled his nose.
"That's disgusting," he said.
"The man you'll be identifying won't be embalmed yet," she pointed out. "The funeral home we send him to will be performing the embalming process." She opened the front door. "This officer will escort us to the Gates. When through customs, I'll most likely be escorting you to the coroner's office."
"Ms. Jones?" the older woman asked as the younger one was leaving. "Are you married?" She stopped, turning to face the dark-haired female.
"Was," she answered. "I'm a widow."
"Do you have any children?" she asked.
"A daughter," she responded. "She's four."
"Then you know what it feels like to raise one," the woman pointed out tartly. "Take care of my boy."
"Ma'am, though I'm more than certain he can take care of himself, I'll keep an eye on him," the young blonde said with a smile. "L. A. is a big city. You could get lost in it."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It had been a slow morning at the Los Angeles Police Department, and Kayla was a little relieved about it. A slow morning for her meant a safe city for its citizens. After flipping through a magazine for the thirteenth time, she finally gave up trying to keep herself interested in the catalog of the latest guns in the field. Tossing the catalog onto her desk, she perked up when she saw a familiar blond-haired woman come walking through the double doors, an arm hooked around a devastatingly handsome man's arm.
"Amanda!" Kayla called, jumping up from her chair. "Where've you been? I've been calling you nonstop for like six hours."
"Oh," the woman blinked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was out of town."
"Why in the Hell would you leave L. A.?" Kayla wondered aloud, her eyes glancing at the man around Amanda's arm.
"I was on business," she replied with a little laugh. "Sorry, my phone had a low battery while I was gone."
"And who is this?" Kayla asked, interested in what her friend defined as 'business'. "He sure doesn't look like business to me."
"Oh, sorry," she replied. "Daemonar, this is my friend Kayla. Kayla, this is Daemonar. He's here to identify the through and through we got last night on patrol."
"Oh," Kayla nodded. "Sure he is."
"Kayla," Amanda said in a rather bossy tone. "I have a husband."
"Had," Kayla corrected.
"And a daughter," she continued. "Trust me, we haven't really had time to go guy hunting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work I need to do, and Daemonar has other things to do as well, I'll bet."
"Like identify a body and hightail it out of here," he said meekly.
"Come on, the coroner's office is this way," Amanda said, leading him down the hall towards the door labeled 'morgue'. She knocked and poked her head inside. "Doctor? Are you in here?"
"Ah, it's you," the old man at the desk said with a bit of a smile. "I was wondering when you'd come around for the post-mortem. Ms. Jones, is it?"
"Yeah, I guess we haven't really been properly introduced," she said sheepishly. "Most people know me as the geek in the lab."
"Then that makes us both geeks," he laughed. "Come on, I'll show you your John Doe." He walked over to the metal examination table and pulled the sheet slightly away from the body.
"Mother Night," Daemonar gasped for air as he recognized the man's face.
"So, you know this man?" she asked him.
"Yes, I know him," he nodded. "Or, I knew him. He was one of my best friends."
"Did he have a name?" she asked.
"His name was Thomas Cormac," he said. "But I don't know why someone would want him dead. Everyone loved him. He was the nicest man I ever knew."
"Doctor? What was his cause of death?" she asked the coroner.
"Cause of death," the old man replied, "Bullet to the head and the heart. No way to determine which actually delivered the fatal blow, but the one to his head fractured his skull."
"Do you still have the bullets from the body?" she asked.
"I knew you'd ask, so I cleaned them up and bagged them for you," he smiled. "There all ready to be tested in the lab. Your area of expertise."
"Great, now I can isolate what type of gun was used," she smiled, then frowned at the sight of Daemonar. "Um, can I talk to you a minute outside?" She led him by the arm out of the coroner's office and looked at him with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said hollowly. "It's just that I've known Thomas ever since I was five."
"I know the feeling," she answered. "The longest I've been friends with one of my best friends was since I was three. I met her on the first day of school and we've never really stopped talking, even after I moved here to L. A." She sighed. "If you want, I'll take you back to the Embassy to be escorted home."
"It's not quite that simple," he replied. "No, I have a confession to make."
"What is it?" she asked, growing quieter.
"Thomas' death wasn't an accident," he said. "Whoever killed him did it for a reason, as a warning to me. I have reason to believe I'm their next target."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked.
"My father doesn't know I come here," he said quietly. "He would disown me if he ever knew I came here to the landen Realm."
"Because it's tainted?" she wondered, and he nodded. "Daemonar, let me explain something to you. The universe is filled with good things and bad things. Now, I know your father discourages this Realm for its bad influences it's made on Blood citizens, but the universe can't exist with all good and no evil. There are good things in this Realm that he doesn't know of since he won't see past its flaws. Besides, you're past the age of immigration, and old enough to not need parental permission to live on your own in this or other Realms. You know that."
"Yeah, but if he ever found out I did anything here," he folded his wings. "He'd kill me for sure."
"Well, it looks to me someone else has decided to take on your father's role," she said. "Someone's trying to keep you from living, and I have to find out who. Until we get this guy, I recommend you join the W. P. Program."
"The what?"
"The Witness Protection Program," she answered. "It keeps you in hiding and low profile until the government determines its safe for you to leave hiding."
"I can't do that, then my father would definitely know something's up," he said. "Isn't there anything else we can do?"
"The only other option is to assign an officer to guard you," she pointed out. "Officers have been trained to handle guarding certain individuals, regardless of their fighting skills. Whoever would be assigned to you would be the best of the best, due to your hierarchy in the system."
"Thank you," he smiled in relief. "I'll take that over the Witness Program."
"Fine, but I have to go back in there and get those samples so I can start processing them. After that I'll make a few phone calls, talk to my boss, and find you the right officer for the job," she answered, stepping back into the office to collect the bullet samples from the coroner.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Why me? Why do these things always happen to me? Kayla wondered as she walked out of her boss's office. I'm an investigator, not some punk's body guard. I was trained to find the answers and protect the citizens from danger, not babysit some idiot who did something stupid and now has to go into hiding for it. And he wouldn't even tell me the guy's name! He just said something about this fool being from a high class family. She scowled as she walked back to her desk so she could wait in what is supposed to be patient manner for the guy she was supposed to be guarding. A half an hour went by, and still no sign of anyone.
"This is ridiculous," Kayla grumbled as she stood up and went to grab her jacket.
"Detective, you weren't intending on leaving now, were you?" a voice said behind her. Jumping, she spun around, surprised that her boss would personally show up at her desk.
"No, sir," she shook her head. "I was. just getting a cup of coffee."
"Good, because I just came to tell you I brought your charge," he said with a bit of a grin. She almost groaned out loud and laughed at the same time at the sight of the young man she had seen locking arms with her friend earlier. Daemonar, Amanda had said his name was. "Detective, this is Mr. Yaslana. You are to keep him safe from any danger."
"Yes, sir," she said with an exasperated sigh.
"Don't give me that look," he snarled. "You screw this up, Detective, and you'll find yourself out of a job. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," she nodded. She scowled some more as she watched her boss turn and march off down the hall back to his office. "Damn jackass."
"You don't like him much, do you?" Daemonar asked, folding his arms.
"If your boss hated you, would you like him either?" she replied, and he shook his head. "I didn't think so."
"You were about to leave, weren't you?" he asked, studying her facial expression.
"N-No," she shook her head. "What would ever give you that idea?"
"The fact that you had gotten up and were just grabbing your coat when we showed up gave me a clue," he said with a grin. "Your boss said I would be staying with you for a little while, I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," she drawled sarcastically. "I've always wanted to offer my home to a complete stranger on behalf of what my job entitles me to do."
"You don't like me very much, do you?" he asked.
"No shit, Sherlock," she rolled her eyes. "But since my job's on the line here, I have no choice but to put up with you."
"Ooh, goodie," he said sarcastically. "I always wanted a cop who hated me to have to protect me when my life was at stake."
"Good," she smiled. "At least you have a sense of humor." She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and an awkward silence followed. "So, where's Amanda?"
"She had to go back to Kaeleer on business," he shrugged. "Guess it's to do with the case she's on."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The sunlight was mesmerizing as Amanda stepped onto the gravel road, walking up the pathway through the extravagant garden towards the quaint little house at the end of the path. She had seen it once before, had spoken to the woman who lived there with her garden, had met the woman's wisdom, had learned so much from her. Now, it felt like the verge of autumn as she knocked on her old mentor's door. There was a bit of commotion inside before the graying-haired woman answered the door.
"So, you've finally returned to me," the old woman told her, smiling a little. "Come in, come in, let's have a look at you."
"Thanks, Adria," Amanda said with a smile before stepping into the house. "Wow, you certainly have changed this place. I hardly recognize it."
"The kids like it," the old woman nodded absently. "The younger ones from the nearby villages like to come and here my stories, and they said I needed a change in atmosphere."
"You always were one to comply," she answered.
"So, what brings you to Kaeleer?" the old woman began to bustle around the kitchen. "Would you like some tea or coffee?"
"Tea's fine," Amanda answered, taking a seat at the small birch table and folding her hands politely. "I'm here on business. I thought it'd be nice to come and visit, see how you were."
"You always were a good kid, Amanda, you know that," Adria answered, sitting down only after she had placed the kettle on the stove. "You always put everyone else before yourself." She shook her head. "No, but that isn't what brought you here, to me."
"I never could keep secrets from you, Adria," she smiled. "Actually, I'm here to talk to the Yaslana family."
"Ah," the woman nodded. "But the news you bring isn't pleasant."
"No, their son has to be kept in custody for a while in L. A.," Amanda admitted. "He's involved in a case and if we let him come back here his assassin will finish what he started. Don't worry, Kayla's taking good care of him."
"Daemonar is a stubborn boy," Adria stated. "He won't like being guarded by a girl."
"Well, it's either that or nothing, and he chose open protection instead of the Witness Protection Program," Amanda shrugged. "It's my job to do whatever I can to finish the investigation and close the case. The sooner I do the better off we'll all be."
"And you'll bring Madeline to see me?" Adria asked.
"She needs a good teacher, Adria," Amanda nodded. "You're the best that I've met to teach her, and without the right studies, she won't receive a Birthright at all." She smiled. "I can still remember the first day she came home and said she could move objects just by thinking about them." Just as she was lost in the memory, the cover to the kettle popped off, steam searing through the spout.
"Oh, the water's done," Adria jumped up and quickly poured two mugs of steaming water and set a teabag in each mug, placing on in front of Amanda and settling down the drink from her own.
"I'll bring her as soon as the apartment is sold," the young woman smiled, getting up. "Thanks for your time."
"Wait," Adria said. "There's something you've been wondering about. A man, perhaps?"
"Now that you mention it." Amanda shrugged. "It hasn't even been a year since the accident, Adria, and now I'm worried. Adria, I think Eric is still alive. I don't know how I know, but there's just this feeling deep down that he didn't actually drown like the police told me. Though, how Kayla could make a mistake like that would be remarkable."
"You're afraid for your daughter," she accused, and the younger woman nodded. "Now, I know your man, I married you two, for goodness' sake. It just doesn't seem like him to nearly die and not go back to his darling wife or his precious daughter. I'm not sure about the matter, but if you'd like, I'll look into it for you."
"Would you?" Amanda sounded relieved. "If anything comes up."
"I know who to call," Adria said with a smile. "Now, go. You'll miss your chance to talk to the Yaslana Prince if you don't."
"Thanks, Adria. I don't know where I'd be without you," Amanda smiled. "You're like a mother to me." Saying this, she got up from the table and left, now determined to complete her business in Kaeleer.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was midmorning by the time she reached the Yaslana residence. Walking briskly up to the door, she knocked and waited patiently for someone to answer. Again, it was his wife, Marian, who answered the door.
"Oh, it's you again," she said with a smile. "Was my son of any help?"
"Of course," Amanda replied. "Um, may I come in?"
"Certainly," she nodded, opening the door wider to let the younger woman inside. "What brings you about twice in the same week?"
"I have some news for you," she replied. "Is your husband here? He'll need to hear this, too."
"Right this way," Marian said, leading her down the hall to a calm atmospheric room with big windows and comfy furniture. "Lucivar, look who's come back."
"Well, well, if it isn't Ms. Jones from the L. A. P. D.," he said with a grin, standing up.
"Please, have a seat," Amanda said seriously, which concerned him. "Both of you."
"All right," Marian responded warily, sitting down on the couch beside her husband. "Is Daemonar in some kind of trouble?"
"Not exactly," Amanda replied. "When I brought him in, he was able to identify the man as Thomas Cormac. Now, I don't know if that means anything to you, but."
"Thomas was Daemonar's best friend growing up," Marian gasped. "You mean to say he's dead?"
"Unfortunately," Amanda nodded. "We have reason to believe that Mr. Cormac's death wasn't the intended fate for him. The killer is still out there, and we think that your son is the next target."
"Mother Night," Marian paled. "Is he all right?"
"Yes, he's fine," she answered. "He's being taken care of. An officer was already assigned to protect him, and she is one of the best."
"She?" Lucivar asked.
"Yes," she nodded. "She is one of my closest friends, I know she'll do her best to make sure your son is unharmed until we complete the investigation. In the meantime, until we've determined it's safe to return your son to you, we think it's best that you try not to contact him. Kayla will give me updates, as she normally does, about him, in which case I can rely back to you. Other than that, it's the only source of information you'll have about your son at this time."
"Why can't we speak to him?"
"He's a warrior, he doesn't need someone to protect him," Lucivar protested.
"Sir, your son may have the knowledge of self-defense, but when it comes to the technology in the other Realm, he is at a loss. Kayla, on the other hand, is fully qualified to make sure he doesn't get shot, kidnapped, or killed," Amanda explained. "He may not like it, but it was his choice. She may not like it, but I trust her and recommend her above all the other officers in the department." She bowed her head a little. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to the Embassy and continue the investigation here."
"Here?" Marian asked.
"They thought it would be best if I stayed in Kaeleer and worked on the case from a monitored location where I could quickly and efficiently complete the investigation," she explained. "However, the Embassy requires that I have a resident of the area assist me in the case for my own safety. I need to go back so they can tell me who that particular resident is. And they don't like it when I'm late."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was only an hour later when Amanda arrived at the Embassy. Walking quickly to the service desk, she gave the receptionist her name and showed her an I.D. The receptionist shook her head as she pointed down the hallway.
"Last door on your left," the woman told her.
"Thanks," Amanda nodded as she nearly ran down the hallway to the board room. "Sorry I'm late, I got caught in traffic."
"It hasn't been the first time," the man said irritably. "Well, your charge is waiting for you in the next room. He said he'd heard the situation and wanted to help."
"Do you know where I'll be staying?" she asked, ruffling her hair.
"An estate in the Dhemlan Territory, that's all I can tell you," he replied, pushing her through the door into the next room. He hastily closed the door behind her and she looked at him with wide eyes, then turning to face her charge.
"Well, I'll be darned if it ain't the one man who should hate me right now," she said with a smile. "I thought I'd have left before you."
"You did, and I don't hate you, you were just doing your job," he replied. "Now, it's time to do mine. You said you needed someone to protect you while you're here, and I outrank most people in this Realm."
"Well, that's good to know," she nodded. "But by volunteering, do you realize that you'll spend most of your time helping me and being away from your wife?"
"Not where we'll be staying," he grinned. "They told you it was an estate in Dhemlan?"
"Yeah, though I don't see why." she stopped. "Are you telling me you asked them to hide me at SaDiablo Hall?"
"Let's just say I know its owner," he replied. "Haven't visited in a while, and it's about time that I do."
"And the fact that the Hall can withstand strong attacks from just about anything didn't also influence your decision?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Actually, I never thought about that," he admitted. "Now that you mention it."
"Oh, geez," she laughed a little. "Just let me call home and then we'll leave. Okay?"
"Fine with me," he shrugged. She pulled out a cell phone from her pocket and used speed dial to call her apartment. A woman answered on the first ring.
"Yeah, Cindy? How's Maddie doing?" she spoke. "Okay, let me talk to her." A pause. "Maddie? How you doing, honey? Yeah, I know I've been gone for a while. I've been busy, sweetie. Maddie, mommy's going to be gone for a little while longer, so I want you to be a good girl and behave for Cindy. Oh, I don't know how long I'll be gone, kiddo. A few days, maybe longer. I know, I miss you too. I'll call you as often as I can, okay? All right, sweetie, could you put Cindy back on the phone? Thanks. Bye, munchkin. Cindy? Yeah, I know. It's only going to be a few more days, a week or two at most. I know you have other things to do during your day, but I need you now, Cindy, you can't just leave Maddie home alone. Make sure she doesn't stay up too late or else she won't get up for school in the morning. What should you do? Give her a large glass of milk with two cookies, that always works. All right, thanks. Bye." She hung up the phone and sighed heavily. Lucivar was staring at her. She noticed and put her phone away. "I just had to check up on my daughter. You know how little kids are."
"How old is she?" he asked.
"She's four," she answered. "I've been gone a lot lately, working late every night and asking my neighbor to babysit her for me. I really hate not being around for her, but it's the only option."
"Why is that?" he asked, opening the door.
"I'm a single mom with a four-year-old girl struggling to pay rent for our home," she replied. "The only way to make the money is working overtime. Being a geneticist doesn't pay that much, you know." She smiled a little. "My husband was usually the big money-maker in the family. Now that he's gone, I have quite a load to handle."
"How long has it been?"
"Nine months," she replied automatically. "It'll have been a year this winter. It's how he."
"I understand," he said. "Losing him must have been hard on you."
"Not just me, but Maddie, too. Oh, he adored her, and she was his little girl," she sniffed. "I could never replace him. I'm not as good a dad as I am a mom."
"Ah," he said with a bit of amusement. "Do you think your work will always provide the life you want your daughter to live?"
"No," she admitted. "I was hoping to earn enough money to move here, to Kaeleer. It would be better for Maddie, and she could be with other children like her." He gave her a quizzical look. "Maddie is half-Blood. Eric never mentioned it to me, and so it was quite the shock when I found out. My little Maddie came home, gave me a hug, and with a wave of her hand she moved her books from her arms to the countertop, a good whole head above her and just out of arms' reach for her."
"And you're okay with it?" he wondered, and she nodded.
"Of course I am," she said. "Why wouldn't I be? I mean, besides the fact that Eric never told me he was Blood and that Maddie can wreak havoc if she's upset, I think it's wonderful. It just goes to prove that the Blood and landens can live on similar ground as equal individuals." She smiled. "I think of it as a mutual relationship. We both contribute and we both benefit from the contributions made." She looked around. "Now, let's get going before we get there after dark falls." "Right," he agreed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Of course, regardless of how quickly Lucivar carried Amanda on the Winds to Dhemlan, they still arrived at the Hall around suppertime.
"So, this is the Hall," she breathed, stepping onto the pavement from the landing Web. "It's even bigger than I'd thought it would be." She exhaled in interest. "This must have been built at least twenty centuries ago, judging by its architecture. It's amazing that an edifice could last that long."
"To you, I suppose," Lucivar explained. "But to the longer-lived races, it doesn't seem that long."
"I know," she said with a shiver of excitement. "The average life span for me would be a hundred years, give or take about fifteen. But for you. you're like. ancient compared to me."
"And I'm beginning to feel that way," he said dryly.
"I don't mean it in a bad way or anything, but." she bit her lower lip. "To me, it's like you were alive before the invention of electricity and real technology."
"Thanks," he said sarcastically.
"No offense," she said meekly.
"None taken," he replied.
"I guess I'm still not used to it," she said with a nervous laugh. "I was seventeen when the first Gate was created in my Realm. I'd hate to say it, but ten years isn't enough time to adapt to that kind of change, unless you were born and raised in the change itself."
"Well, come on, no need to be wasting daylight out here," he shrugged, starting up the stairs.
"Right behind you," she agreed, skipping every other step to catch up to him. She waited patiently and quietly as he knocked on the big mahogany doors. Her eyes widened at the sight of a rather irritated middle-aged man. His facial expression relaxed as he recognized Lucivar.
"Beale," Lucivar acknowledged.
"Prince Yaslana," he replied. "The Lady was just about to have dinner."
"I'm sure she was," he said dryly. "This is Lady."
"Jones," she extended her hand. "Amanda Jones." Surprised, Beale accepted the gesture and smiled a bit. "It's nice to meet you."
"As well you," he replied with gratitude. "Please, come inside." He opened the door wider and closed it when the two had entered. "Prince Sadi and Lady Angelline are in the drawing room."
"Thank you, Beale," Lucivar nodded. "Come on then."
"Oh," Amanda said sadly. "Maybe we could just."
"No, we go see them now," he answered, giving her an authoritative look.
"Oh, all right," she sighed. "It was nice meeting you, Beale. Maybe later I can talk to you some more."
"Sounds wonderful, Lady," he smiled, waving goodbye as she reluctantly left the butler at the front door. She followed Lucivar down the hall until he pushed a door open. There was a bit of a commotion inside, and she peered inside only to be dragged in.
"I can walk, you know," she said with annoyance.
"Lucivar, who's this?" a man Amanda only assumed was Daemon asked. Just then her phone rang and she sighed.
"Hang on," she pulled it out, answering it. "Hello? Oh, hi Kayla. Yeah, what's up? Of course he is. No, you can't leave him home alone! That isn't why you were assigned to him! I know you have little league practice, but you'll just have to take him with you. Oh, that. Well, try to explain to them without actually telling them anything. Like what? Oh, I don't know, tell them he's the new assistant coach or something. Kayla, remember that if you lose him, it's not just your hide on the line. Yeah, he's here with me. No, you can't talk to him." She covered the mouthpiece. "She wants to talk to you," she held the phone out to Lucivar. With a puzzled look he accepted it, quietly speaking to the woman on the other end of the line.
"What's going on?" Daemon demanded.
"Long story short, your nephew is in custody for a murder investigation," she answered. "And it seems the officer assigned to guard him is becoming a little snippy about what to do with him." Lucivar stepped towards her, returning the phone. She accepted it, talking to Kayla again. "Yeah? Oh, well, hang on, I'll see who it is." She pressed a button on her phone. "Hello? Maddie, what are you doing up so late? It's past your bedtime. What do you mean Cindy's in the hospital? You aren't home alone, are you? Maddie, go next door and ask Mrs. Taylor if you can stay with her until I have Kayla come and pick you up. No, sweetie, you can't stay home by yourself, it isn't safe, and you won't have any way of getting to school tomorrow. I'll see what I can do about bringing you here, okay? But until that happens, you have to go next door, okay? All right, goodnight, Maddie." She pressed another button on the phone. "Kayla? You need to do me a huge favor. Go to my apartment and pick Maddie up, will you? No, Cindy can't take care of her. Kayla, you'll just have to do it. Look, I'll pay you if I have to, but Maddie can't stay home alone in that neighborhood, especially at that age! Thanks, you're the best. Bye." She sighed heavily and put the phone away.
"What happened?" Lucivar asked her. She looked at him with a worried expression.
"Maddie's home alone," she explained. "Apparently Cindy fell down the stairs and broke a leg. She'll be in the hospital for a while. Well, at least Daemonar won't be completely alone while Kayla's at practice." He gave her an odd look. "She coaches a little league team in her spare time."
"Don't you have any backup babysitters in case of emergencies?" he asked.
"No," she shook her head. "Do you know how hard it is to find a babysitter on short notice who's willing to take care of a four-year-old? I mean, my neighbors don't seem to mind watching her while I'm at work, but there's only so much they can do. They have lives of their own, you know, and watching Maddie is a full-time job."
"Why don't you bring her here?" Jaenelle asked her.
"That's just the problem," Amanda sighed. "I can come here as often as needed because of my work, since the Embassy pays for it. But they won't bother paying the expenses for bringing a child through the Gates. It's expensive, and I don't have that kind of money right now. Now that I think of it, I never had that kind of money." She sighed again. "I'm still paying off school tuition for Maddie this year. And I don't even know if we'll make the rent payment for the apartment on time." She remembered the letter the Embassy had given her before she left the Gates. "Um, here. It's a letter from the Embassy giving me permission to stay here until I've gathered enough evidence and analyses to close the investigation."
"I see," Jaenelle took it from her hand, reading through it quickly. "Well, then, I guess you're our guest here until we have this problem solved."
"Thanks," Amanda said with relief, smiling a little. "I really hope it isn't an inconvenience."
"It isn't," Jaenelle replied. "What did you say your name was?"
"I didn't," she answered. "But it's Amanda."
"Well, Amanda, let me show you your room, and we'll let these two boys catch up," Jaenelle said, leading the younger woman out the door and down the hallway towards the stairwell. "Does this type of thing happen often?"
"Not for me," Amanda replied. "Normally I just work in the lab and analyze the evidence. But since I was the only qualified person in my unit for the case, I was promoted to Field Agent. That's about as much I can tell you, for security reasons. You understand."
"Yes," Jaenelle answered. "Criminal investigations tend to be kept as secret as possible for safety precautions."
"Yeah, how'd you know?"
"I do know what goes on in other Realms," Jaenelle replied with a hint of a smile. "Well, here we are. Your room for as long as you stay with us."
"Thank you so much," Amanda said gratefully. "This really helps me out a lot."
"Do you work part-time?"
"Full-time, actually. I used to work part-time, but now."
"Is it really as stressful as people say it is?"
"That depends. Are you referring to on the everyday basis or right now?"
"Everyday basis, I suppose."
"Normally, it would be fine. Labwork is fairly soothing to the mind. But lately. with the problems with the babysitters and the promotion to the field. it's been hectic."
"Well, get some rest, and hopefully you'll feel better in the morning," she opened the door and turned on the light. "The balcony leads to the garden, but try not to wander around out there. There are people patrolling this estate, including the garden. There's hot running water, so you could take a bath to relieve some of the stress."
"Thanks, I think I just might do that," Amanda said, smiling shyly.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, mademoiselle," she watched Jaenelle close the door and then she pulled out a pair of gloves from her pocket. "Boy am I glad I still have these." Pulling them on, she called in several items she'd need for the days ahead, like clothes and certain feminine necessities. The last thing she called in before putting the gloves away was a picture frame containing the last picture ever taken of the three of them together before the accident. "Why'd you leave us, Eric? Why'd you have to die?" she wondered aloud sadly. A moment of silence came and went. Shaking her head, she went into the bathroom to turn on the bath water. As she waited for the water to fill the tub, she put her things in the closet and in the dresser, leaving her pajamas sitting out on the bed.
Settling into the bathtub to relax, she closed her eyes and listened to the water swirl around her, letting her stress slip away. This is so much better than being pestered to hurry up in the lab every night, she thought to herself as she began to drift asleep. The innate sense that someone was watching her alerted her mind, causing the sleepiness to leave for the time being. Opening her eyes, she examined the room, but no on was there. With a sigh, she decided she had soaked long enough in the water, and let the water drain from the tub as she grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her mid- section. She dried herself off and slowly drifted back into the bedroom, slipping on some undergarments before touching the pajamas waiting for her.
Once fully-clothed, she began to put her jewelry back on. She stopped when she saw her wedding ring sitting on the nightstand, and stared for a long time at it, wondering if she should put it on. She shook her head, slipping it on like always, then stopped, taking it off again. She got up and went back towards the bathroom, but turned around again only to snatch the ring and place it on her finger. Content, she finished her preparations, and turned off all but the lamp by her bedside. After attempting to read several times, she gave up and went to sleep, turning off the light.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
She didn't remember when she had woken up or why, but all she did know was that she was awake but slightly drowsy. She shifted beneath the covers, but frowned a little when she felt that same presence again, the same one from her bath. She reached over the covers to touch the empty space beside her only to find something was there, something made of flesh. Startled, she opened her eyes, slipped out of the covers, and backed away from the bed, afraid of what was lying there. When she saw nothing, she fell to the ground, crying. She knew that smell anywhere, she'd known his scent for seven years, and it only reminded her of what she no longer had.
As she lay there, shaking silently to relieve the tears, she felt someone moving towards her door. She got up, wiping away her tears. Just as someone knocked softly, she moved to open the door, and felt the presence again, only behind her this time, as if guarding her. She opened the door.
"J-Jaenelle?" she whispered. "What are you doing up so late?"
"I was about to ask you the same question," Jaenelle replied. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, everything's fine," she said, folding her arms.
"I heard you crying," Jaenelle pressed.
"I had a nightmare, that's all," she shrugged it off. She noticed Jaenelle was no longer looking at her, but something behind her. She turned and saw nothing. "What are you looking at? There's no one else here."
"I thought I saw." Jaenelle stopped. "I guess I was just imagining things. Is it all right if I stay in here for a while? Just until you can fall back asleep?"
"Um, sure, yeah, I guess," she opened the door wider, letting Jaenelle step past her. "So, you couldn't sleep either?"
"On occasion, no," Jaenelle answered, looking around the room. Her gaze rested on the picture frame by the mirror. "Who's this?" she asked, picking up the picture.
"Oh, that's me and my family," she replied with a little sniffle. "My husband Eric and our daughter, Maddie."
"What happened to him?" she asked.
"He. he drowned. Nine months ago," she replied hesitantly. "Sometimes it still feels as if he's there with me. Then I look and he isn't there, and I realize he's never coming back." She took her time breathing, struggling to keep the tears away and her voice from cracking. "Maddie misses him a lot. She needs her father."
"And what about you?"
"I can't begin to tell you," she said with a little laugh. "Let's just say I'm lost without him."
"Would it help if I created a shadow?" Jaenelle asked, watching her carefully.
"You would do that?" she asked in disbelief. "You would do that for me?" She shook her head. "No, I don't deserve it."
"Why do you judge so quickly?" Jaenelle asked. "Who says you don't?"
"I appreciate the offer, but if I accepted. I'd be living a lie," she explained. "I'd know it wasn't real."
"What about just for tonight?" Jaenelle continued. "Then, in the morning, you could tell me whether or not you'd want to continue it."
She thought about this for a moment. Finally she sighed. "All right, but just tonight."
"Wonderful," Jaenelle smiled, rolling up her sleeves. With a wave of her hands, she began to explain how a shadow was created. When she had finished the verbal lesson, the exact image Amanda once remembered of her belated husband was standing before both of them, wearing only a pair of trousers. "See? How do you like him?"
"Oh, Jaenelle." she breathed. "He's wonderful. Just as I remembered." She smiled. "Perfect in every way."
"I think I'll let you get back to bed," Jaenelle said with a little grin. "You don't need me hanging around here and spoiling your fun."
"Thank you. Thank you so much," she said, tears forming on the edges of her eyes.
"Let me know in the morning," Jaenelle said as she left. Amanda closed the door behind her, and slowly turned to look back at her shadow.
He was just standing there silently, staring at her, observing her emotions as they swirled in her. She pulled her bathrobe off and slipped back under the covers of the rather large bed. She waited quietly as he moved to slip under the covers beside her, only after averting her gaze slightly to allow him to strip completely. She didn't know what it was about him, but she knew he had always liked sleeping naked. She had expected the shadow to react the same way, and he did.
She just sat there for a minute or two, uncertain that if she touched him she wouldn't actually touch flesh, since shadows were like that. But he made the first move, slipping his arms around her and pulling her closer to him, resting his head on her shoulders.
"I missed you," he whispered. She blinked a few tears, and then shifted her head so she could see him.
"I missed you," she said, almost inaudibly.
"Go to sleep," he murmured, kissing her head. "I won't go anywhere."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Content, she sighed happily, drifting into a deep sleep. It must have been a good dream, since she woke up smiling.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ebony~ So, what do you think of the story so far?
Softball Chick~ Erm. ::scratches head:: Should I care?
Ebony~ Okay, screw you and your opinion. ::shakes her head:: So,
Demonic, what do you think of it so far?
Demonic~ When am I going to be written into this story? ::gives
Ebony an offended look::
Ebony~ Soon. Very soon.
Demonic~ You've written in yourself, you've written in Softball
Chick. ::sniffs:: Why leave me out?
Ebony~ Read the next chapter. Maybe you'll be in it.
Demonic~ Seriously? You really mean I'll be in the next chapter
with you guys?
Ebony~ ::nods:: So, don't go all tear-jerking offended just because
you aren't in the first chapter. For good reason.
Demonic~ And what reason is that?
Ebony~ That Softball Chick will make fun of your ass for the rest of
the story in these little post-chapter conversations. ::gives
Softball Chick an odd look:: And you know she will.
Softball Chick~ ::grins evilly:: I can handle that, you can handle
writing and editing, and Demonic. Well, she can just handle the
male reviews, since that's her only interest anyways.
Ebony~ First of all, Softball Chick, it's "anyway" not "anyways".
::Softball Chick rolls her eyes:: And secondly. Well, I guess
you're right about Demonic.
Demonic~ ::blinks:: I resent that!
Ebony and Softball Chick in unison~ YOU RESENT EVERYTHING!
Ebony~ Regardless of verbal response.
Demonic~ ::jaw drops:: I don't think I want to be your friends
anymore. ::begins to walk away::
Ebony~ ::grins and folds arms:: So then I guess I don't have to
write you in the next chapter after all.
Softball Chick~ ::does little dance around the room:: Hurray! Now
we have more story space!
Demonic~ ::jaw drops and lower lip quivers a bit::
Ebony~ I know, I know. You resent everything. ::sighs:: Well,
folks, I guess we'd better move on to the next chapter before
Demonic has another resentment attack and Softball Chick over there
dies lacking oxygen due to her lungs closing up with laughter.