A/N: Soooo I didn't really want to post this. It's not finished, and I really don't know where I'm going with this. But 7th Librarian insisted, and now that he lives with me he's harder to run away from.
Another contribution to this rather enjoyable little subfandom. If you're still unfamiliar with Shadowchasers, hit up Occam Razor's page to learn more.
Following the trait of my last Shadowchasers fic, this is a very duelling-lite story. Sorry. They will be around, just not very often.
This takes place two and a half years after Sweet Sixteen.
Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed
By Mei1105
Chapter 1: Proposal
A crime scene was like a wounded animal, in Bastien's opinion. You approached it carefully, watching for any changes in normal behaviour, and you did your best not to disturb the fragile state in which everything currently sat.
The petrol station was empty, the rickety metal shelving units stacked with boxes and packing crates, like ominous bars, caging the scene from the outside world. The linoleum was faded, peeling from the corners of the floor like old skin, and the ceiling had a few old stains here and there. Aside from an exploded carton of milk on the floor in front of the tills, nothing seemed amiss. The drivers, and spooked locals of Khayelitsha huddled outside, peering in through the windows, and over the shoulders of the policemen. Some snapped photos on camera phones, while others muttered anxiously, some fingering crosses or other personal talismans for protection against evil spirits.
A shiver went up Bastien's spine. They could be more right than they knew.
Trying to shake off the sudden unpleasant sensation, he got back to his feet. He felt the suspicious glare of the police on his back, but he did not begrudge them that. If he had a strange young man in jeans and a t-shirt showing up at a crime scenes claiming to be a secretive type of special forces, he would probably be hostile too. He acted as though he could not feel it, and tried to think rationally about what he knew.
The eyewitnesses said that the father and his two teenage sons had been paying at the counter, when in the blink of an eye, all three of them had vanished. No flashes of light, and no sound other than the milk carton falling to the ground, and bursting all over the cheap linoleum. But something did not sit well with him here. People did not just vanish into thin air, even Shadowkind. And just as he knew that you never gambled with dwarves, or asked a lycanthrope when their time of the month was, he knew that things like this always left traces.
A pointed cough jerked him out of his thoughts.
"Are you done here?" Detective Nkhosi was tapping his foot, but Bastien was used to this general air of resentment.
"Why, do you have a date?" the Shadowchaser asked pleasantly. He should know better than to irritate the man, but it was too easy sometimes. Sure enough, the detective's eye twitched.
"No," he said, with forced politeness. "But unless you can show me evidence of a ghost or gremilin, I am going to have to ask you to vacate my crime scene, Bastien."
It felt like being lectured by a parent - not helped by the fact that Nkhosi was seventeen years his senior. Not for the first time, he wished that this could have been a normal case - or at least, one so magical that the police would have brushed it off as a superstitious waste of time. But this was only the latest in a string of unexplained and very public disappearances, and Nkhosi and his team were now firmly involved, meaning that Bastien had no choice but to work around them.
As a Shadowchaser, Bastien was trained to sense when things were not quite right. Awareness not only brought clarity when faced with magical creatures, but gave him a strange tingling feeling when magic was in the air. He could sense that now, lingering like a bad smell, even though on the surface, nothing in the petrol station seemed out of the ordinary.
And speaking of bad smells, Bastien got to his feet, and cast his gaze around the room. The milk was already turning sour in the heat, but beneath that there was another scent - lighter with a saltier tang - that did not belong in a petrol station in the middle of one of Cape Town's poorest neighbourhoods.
Weaving between the shelving units, his eyes drifted along the supplies of bread and rice, until he reached the back corner, where the smell lingered most potently. His boots squeaked on the linoleum, and he paused by the cereal bars, his eyebrows lifting in surprise.
Behind him, Nkhosi halted, a similar reaction crossing his face.
"That's new," the detective commented. Bastien nodded, not quite sure what to make of his discovery.
Pulling his phone out, he crouched down again to examine the large puddle of water spread out before him. It smelt like decaying seaweed, and he was ninety percent certain that if he stuck his finger in it, he would taste saltwater. He was not stupid however, and instead he snapped a few photographs on his phone, trying hard to see some kind of pattern in the location or the distribution of the water, before reaching for his bag. Carefully, he took a glass vial, and gently scooped a small amount of water into the container before screwing it shut.
Behind him, Detective Nkhosi tilted his head back, examining the loosely fit ceiling tiles.
"Think they've got a leak?" he asked, dubiously. Bastien knew perfectly well that Nkhosi was not the kind of detective who believed in coincidences.
"That would be nice. Then we could all go home," he said, deciding that there was nothing more to be garnered here. Shouldering his bag once more, he got to his feet, brushing his jeans off. The linoleum floors needed a good vacuum...or a mop, in this case. "I'm done here, detective. Go nuts."
He slid past the policeman and back towards the tills, already turning over ideas and thoughts about the new discovery. The detective followed swiftly behind, and as they approached the door, he waved his team in to begin collecting their own evidence. The wounded creature was down, and now the careful dissection of its carcass would begin.
Ignoring the disdain that the police were giving him, Bastien pushed his way through the open doors. The nervous crowd backed away, as though worried that they might catch death from brushing up against him. The only person who did not back away was the station manager, who began loudly complaining again about how many valuable trading hours he was losing. His mind, unmagical and entirely Mundane as it was, had already found some way to rationalise three people vanishing right in front of him, and now he just wanted his shop back.
The sun swept down over Bastien's neck, and sweat prickled unpleasantly beneath his hair. It was almost lunchtime, but he felt no inclination to eat. Instead he crossed the forecourt, bypassing the petrol pumps, and headed for his bike. He would report everything he had seen, and go over it with his teammates later, but deep down he already knew that they would be just as lost as they had been after the last one.
His phone buzzed, and he leaned into his D-Wheel to answer. Nobody was nearby - the police were occupied indoors, and the civilians had no interest in leaving their front row seats.
"Thando, any good news?" he answered, hope stirring in spite of his doubts. His colleague gave a heavy sigh.
"Only what you asked me for," he said. Even his usual upbeat attitude seemed dulled in the face of another disappearance. "Osenus Grafyr was the father - elf, according to our notes. His sons were Pannan and Riovar - both half elves. Seventy nine and sixty three respectively."
Teenagers, by elf standards, Bastien thought bitterly. And still, no patterns in age, race or any other characteristic had shown itself. The strikes were random, and completely incomprehensible. One new, disturbing fact was clear however, and it widened their net of potential victims considerably. "Whatever this is, it affects Shadow-touched too then?"
"It seems so," Thando reported, grimly. "The mother is still alive - she lives in Tokai. I'm enroute already."
Immense gratitude welled up in Bastien. Thando was always better at delivering bad news, a job which Bastien hated - not because he was unsympathetic, but because he knew all too well how it felt to be on the other side.
"Did you turn anything up?"
Jolting out of his sudden melancholy, Bastien felt for the glass vial in his bag. "Actually yes. There was a puddle at the back of the store."
"A puddle?" Thando sounded dubious. "Of what?"
"Looks like regular water," Bastien admitted. "But it was the only strange thing I could find. I took a sample - I'll drop it into Serena on my way back."
It sounded like a flimsy lead, and he leaned heavily against the handles of his bike. Maybe it was time to admit that they were beat. At least then, they could start asking for help.
"Group conference," he said. "As soon as we all can. I don't know about you Than, but I have no ideas at all."
It was not a pleasant thing to admit. It made him feel powerless. Thando sighed heavily.
"I hear you," he assured him. "Group conference it is then. I'll text the others."
"Jalal too, if he can spare five minutes," Bastien insisted. Though if their boss had no ideas, they were well and truly fucked. Glancing over towards the door, he spotted the tall, lithe figure of the detective. "Uh oh. Nkhosi has that look on his face."
Thando snorted. "Don't rile him up too much - his fiance might change her mind if we prematurely grey his hair."
Bastien had to chuckle at that, and he hung up with a small smile at the detective's expense. The man in question, did not look amused as he approached the Shadowchaser. His close-cropped hair was still dark, in spite of Thando's misgivings.
"So what will it be this time?" his voice was scornful. "A water spirit popped in, took offence to three people purchasing petrol, and decided to whisk them away as punishment?"
Bastien rolled his eyes as his slid his helmet on. "Don't be daft, detective. You forgot the hordes of zombies."
He turned the key in his bike, only for a large hand to clasp the front of the machine.
"I'm not in the mood for games, Bastien," Nkhosi's voice had turned dark and serious. "This is the ninth disappearance in the last month, and I'm tired of feeling like I'm in the middle of a conspiracy."
It took every ounce of Bastien's self restraint not to retort rudely, for Nkhosi's calculations were off drastically. There had in fact been eighteen disappearances now, but the Shadowkind communities were tight and secretive, and would never involve the police. The nine that they were aware of had all occurred in public places like this one, and avoiding the officials had been impossible.
Instead, he settled for dropping the sarcasm. "You are in the middle of a conspiracy, detective. These crimes involve magic."
The detective scoffed. "If I wanted people running around my crime scene declaring magical causes, I'd call in the SAPS Occult Unit. But I don't. I want to get to the bottom of this, and find these missing people. So why don't you save me, and them a lot of time, and tell me what you're really doing here?"
"Investigating," Bastien said curtly, revving his engine in the hopes that Nkhosi would take the hint. The detective did not budge.
"And what do you have to show for your investigations? And don't say water spirits or zombies." He sneered the words in blatant disbelief. "Anything helpful that you would care to share with the professionals? Because right now, I feel like I'm working with a blindfold over one side of my face."
Impatient now, Bastien turned his upper body towards the detective, and folded his arms. "What was it your commissioner said to you about us? Give us as much time as we need on your crime scene? Listen to what we say? Don't ask questions?"
"...and try not to punch you," Nkhosi grumbled, in an unamused fashion.
"Right," Bastien nodded. "So maybe you should take his advice - I'm sure he'd be fascinated to hear that you're ignoring his third order by digging around for information about us."
"Was that a threat?" the detective's voice became harder than diamond.
"No, it was advice," Bastien corrected. "You've been good so far at playing along and letting us do our job. Don't ruin it now."
The detective made a disgusted noise, and finally took the necessary step back to allow Bastien to leave. "I'm being lectured to about trust by you. You must have some really good blackmail on Kloeter…"
He strode away fuming, and Bastien did pity him. It would be so much easier if Nkhosi took bribes like the majority of South Africa's police. But he was too moral for that, and the idea that the Shadowchasers had some kind of hold over his boss only embittered him towards them more. It was not the case of course - as with many countries in the world where Shadowchasers worked, Kloeter was Sensitive. They had no need to bribe or blackmail him.
Nkhosi was going to need watching, Bastien thought. He had a reputation for always getting to the bottom of a mystery, and he already had nothing but disdain for this pushy group of youngsters who investigated supernatural activity, but were not part of the South African Police Service Occult Related Crimes Unit. Vigilantism was something he would not tolerate, and while Kloeter could issue all the orders he wanted, it would be up to the detective if they actually continued to get into crime scenes.
"You are working blind in one eye, detective…" he muttered, as he pulled his bike out of the forecourt, and onto Spine Road. "It's just not the eye you're thinking of…"
OOO
"Look at you. Seems like only yesterday you were nervously getting off the plane, and now…" With a clink of glass against table, the green-haired woman gave a tearful sniff. "All grown up. I'm so proud!"
"...does she do this every time a rookie graduates?"
"Pretty much." Across the booth, Rave tossed her platinum and gold hair out of her face and sipped at her drink, no doubt recalling her own celebration a few years ago.
"Then she starts lamenting how old she's getting," Tsubasa added, cowering immediately under the glare from the opposite side of the table.
"Don't be rude to your mother, young man." Even now with her son long grown, Terpsichore Springweather had never lost the tone of voice that all mother's possessed - the one that made you feel about three inches tall. Sure enough, Tsubasa muttered an apology and went back to his drink with a sulk.
"When's your mentor getting here, Becks?" Rave asked, passing around a fresh bottle. The youngest member of the group checked her wrist.
"In an hour or so - she's got some things to finish up at the office."
"Great - then it'll be a proper send off party where the mentor gets one last chance to embarrass her student!" Terpischore said, happily.
"Really? Because you never seem to need a party to embarrass me," Rave pointed out. "Or Tsubasa."
"Preach!" the lone male at the table toasted with his half drunk bottle.
"And what kind of party is it where the graduating student isn't allowed to drink?" Becky asked, staring at her bottled fruit juice as though hoping she could make it alcoholic with the power of her gaze. "Bloody puritanical US laws…"
"You know the rules - Fayte and Tsuki don't make an exception for Dracula, so why would they make an exception for you?" Terpischore asked, beeping the young woman on the nose.
"Because back in England I've been allowed to buy my own booze for over a year now," Becky stated.
"You'll be back in good old Blighty soon enough," Rave reminded her, patting her on the head. "For now, drink your juice and we might let you have dessert."
She did not bat an eyelash as Becky stuck her tongue out. After a year it was hard to take the jabs to heart.
"So what did you do when you graduated, Terpy?" Becky asked, feeling she should get all the sane conversation out of the way, before the evening descended into drunken babble.
"Oh that's a great story!" the elf practically bounced out of her seat.
"Are you naked in this story?" Tsubasa asked, cautiously. "Because I don't want to hear it if you're going to wind up naked. You're my mother. It's weird."
"No!" Terpischore exclaimed, apparently offended. "Not all my stories end in nudity, you know!"
"Yes they do," Tsubasa and Rave retorted in unison. The senior Shadowchaser gave them such a dignified glare that Becky swore she could see a crown appearing on her head.
"Anyway," Terpy shot the two a final look, before continuing. "Rayearth and I are on our way back from chasing a pair of werewolves to Omaha, and we stop in a bar-"
"Speaking of Omaha," Rave ignored the story, and turned to Becky, lowering her voice as the tale continued over the din of club music. "Who's dropping you at the airport tomorrow?"
"Tsuki," Becky said, swirling her drink around her glass. "God I miss my bike…"
Her hand twitched for a handle that was not there.
"Oh good," Rave grinned. "So I can get totally wasted and not worry about driving tomorrow!"
"-before we know what's happening, three zombies come bursting in to the bar-"
"Remind me why you decided to send your bike to South Africa when you're only going to be there for a week?"
"Ten days!" Becky corrected. "And it's to save space in the hire car. Do you know how big my family is? And I'm pretty sure at some point I'm going to want to escape into the city just to get away from the questions about what I'm doing with my life."
"-so I turn around, and Rayearth is naked."
"Oh God! What did I just say?!" Tsubasa shrieked, rubbing his forehead into the table in an effort to purge the images. Terpy blinked innocently.
"You said I couldn't be naked. You never said anything about Rayearth!"
"Never wanted to picture the bloodthirsty Incantifer naked, and now I am, and I can't un-picture it!" Tsubasa hastily took refuge in his bottle, downing the blue sugary vodka in an instant, and getting straight up from the table to buy another one.
Seeing the satisfied smirk crossing Terpy's face, Becky leaned over. "I see what you're doing, and it ain't going to work."
The green-haired woman directed her wide gaze to the ceiling and began to whistle. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh please! You're hoping Rave and your son will get drunk enough to sleep together. I'm telling you, they don't think about each other that way."
"I don't think about what now?" Rave finished laughing at her teammate's expense and refocused on the conversation.
"Nothing!" Terpischore and Becky chimed in unison, knocking back their drinks with deliberate evasiveness.
Becky frowned as someone's phone began to vibrate against the table. All eyes were drawn to the large, battered smart phone, with pink My Little Pony stickers stuck to the back. Huffing, Terpischore reached for it.
"Typical. My best laid plans are ruined by work!" Swiping the screen, she raised it to her ear. "Foxy Lady, something had better be on fire!"
There was a long silence as Terpischore listened intently to what was being told to her and her face slowly lost all of its playfulness. Across from her, the three Shadowchasers her felt themselves growing remarkably sober.
"We'll be there," Terpischore finished, hanging up and rising from the table. "We're going. Someone's just broke into the Shadowchaser crypt down in the graveyard. They got through the wards by means unknown and Maria's picked up the scent of necromancy."
"So much for Becky's graduation party," Rave groused, getting up and pushing her chair back swiftly. "Why can't they choose a night when we don't have something to celebrate?"
"They do," Becky commented dryly. "Every day. That's what you sign up for when you live in this town."
"Aren't you pleased you're leaving?" Tsubasa asked, casting one last longing look at his just-opened bottles, now being abandoned on their table.
"I'm detecting some sarcasm, Tsubasa. I'm not sure I like it."
OOO
The Shadowcasers crypt was one of the most depressing places Becky had ever visited.
In the vast field of stones that lined the Backwater cemetery, the crypt sat towards the back looming ominously over the other graves. Constructed of white marble and black iron, it served as a dedicated resting space for those special individuals who had dedicated their lives to protecting the town. Their names were etched above the tiny entrance into the stone, making certain that their deeds would never be forgotten.
It chilled Becky to think how many people were waiting down there for other protectors to join them.
Fortunately, she reasoned as they weaved through the gravestones scattered through the grassy field, they would probably not have to go and say hello tonight, for Maria's message had been slightly exaggerated. While it was true that the heavy, reinforced marble doors had been blow to bits, leaving dust and debris all over the steps, the intruder had not actually managed to get any further, due to a nasty looking spell that now warded the entrance in a rippling red barrier. Each time the intruder attempted to gain access, he was violently flung back into the steps with a loud, vicious sounding crack. Rather than become suitably dazed however, he got straight back up, and began tossing more magic at it like a string of tennis balls.
Terpy was there first, skidding to a halt twenty feet from the crypt entrance, releasing her sword and pulling her arm back over her head. Holding her weapon like a javelin, she hurled it through the air and watched it pierce the intruder's back and skewer him straight through. He staggered forwards into the broken rubble.
"Did I get him?" Terpy held out her hand and the sword slid out of the body with a wet squelch and flew obediently back to her hand. The senior Shadowchaser beamed.
"Yay! I got him!" she cheered, bouncing from foot to foot. Pulling to a stop next to Becky, Tsubasa groaned.
"Must you do that every time?" he asked. "Give the rest of us a chance!"
A crackle came over their earpieces.
"Aww...does this mean I don't get to shoot him? I've been sitting on the church roof for ages waiting for backup and I'm pretty sure there's a bird nesting in my hat now!"
"Sorry Foxy Lady!" Terpy did not break her victory dance for a moment.
"No you're not!"
Becky's well executed facepalm was aborted as her whole body jerked with the ground beneath her feet. There was a hideous cracking noise below and gravestones began to split and crumble menacingly.
"You have got to be-" Tsubasa's exasperation was cut off as a rotten arm punched through the ground at his feet and seized his ankle in a bony grip. He had just enough time to shriek in terror, before a pair of blades flashed, and Rave severed the limb with a sweep of her twin swords of Tryce. With a lumbering moan, the rest of the corpse emerged from the earth in search of its missing hand. A fresh shudder worked its way down Becky's spine as she saw the ground erupting and more figures slowly pulling themselves free.
"Right. Necromancy. Got it."
"Maria, are you seeing this?" Terpy demanded, tossing her sword at another overly friendly member of the undead. It skewered him between the eyes, and he gave only the slightest recoil before continuing his lumbering shamble.
"Seeing. Still working on believing," the kyubi admitted, and a crack split across the graveyard as she began to fire at the ring of zombies now shambling towards her colleagues. "Terpy the crypt!"
The intruder was standing, apparently unfazed by the hole through his back, and turning slowly to observe the quartet of attackers. A cold empty gaze evaluated all of them, and Becky felt another shiver run over her body.
"Huh…" Terpy's eyebrow quirked. "I didn't try hard enough."
She snapped her hand out, and her sword obediently wriggled free of the approaching zombie, before jumping back her hand. "You guys take care of the rabble. I want the big guy!"
"...I should not be getting innuendo from that statement!" Tsubasa whined, taking his frustration out on a nearby zombie, punching it so hard in the face that three of its rotten teeth flew out. "Especially not from my mother!"
"Stop talking and fight!" Rave shouted, already charging into the ring of zombies and slicing one to ribbons with her swords. Becky followed up, beheading the nearest, and swinging herself around into another strike that pierced a female zombie in the throat. She was pleased that she felt little squeamishness now when she pulled the blade free. Another crack of gunfire took out a third one sneaking up behind her.
"Eight more on your six," Maria warned, huffing as she adjusted her aim for another shot. "Rave, watch the-"
There was a slicing noise, as Rave twisted so that her twin swords skewered two zombies at once. "What was that?"
"Nothing dear," Maria muttered. There was a yelp of pain, and a blur of green and blue as Terpy went skidding through the mud, crashing headfirst into an angel obelisk. Outside the crypt, the intruder flexed his arm, which had turned into a mass of writhing tentacles, cold eyes observing all four Shadowchasers before returning to the barrier over the entrance.
"Oh no…" Becky muttered, knowing that physical characteristic all too well. She'd read the file and heard stories from Judy.
"Oh God! Tentacles! Why does my brain keep doing this to me!"
"Tsubasa, there's a zombie chewing on your hair!"
"Somebody get the wrong out of my brain!"
Slicing another zombie through the middle, Becky resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Just four days and then I'm on holiday. Nothing bad happens th-WHOA!
Her last thought was audible as she misstepped and fell face first into the nearest evacuated grave.
"Have a nice trip, Becky?" came the helpful voice in her ear.
"Shut up Maria…"
OOO
"It's getting stronger."
Bastien jumped, pulling his gaze away from his thousand yard stare into the blue carpet. The sofa was comfortable after a long day of driving all over Cape Town, and he knew it had been a mistake to sit on it - he was five minutes from falling asleep in the middle of their conference. The crime scene that morning felt like a very long time ago. "Excuse me?"
Leaning over the back of a nearby armchair, Thando rolled his eyes - he had been sure that Bastien had not been listening. "I said, it's getting stronger. First individuals. Then couples. Now a group of three. Next it'll be a family of four, and then a group of five co workers-"
"We won't let it get that far," Bastien said firmly. "Too many people have gone missing already."
He glanced at the large map of Cape Town, which dominated the far wall of the living room, red pins protruding all over it. They could have used a holographic version, but Thando had told Bastien that he prefered the feeling of a physical map - there was something grounding about pushing pins into paper that you just did not get from hitting a few buttons.
Right now though, the pins gave Bastien no satisfaction. They were just a grim reminder of every Shadow who had vanished in the last month, under similar circumstances to the ones in the petrol station that day. And that was just the reported ones. Who knew how many others had vanished, unseen or uncared by anyone?
"Any magical traces?" over by the fire, Jalal's holographic form wore a look of deep concern. He shared the projector with the other two South African Shadowchasers. To his left, Dani Nkanyezi was occupied brushing mud off his boots, while on his right, Astra De Witt drummed her fingers against her arm. Unbeknownst to her, her hologram was intruding on the television, giving her the unsettling impression that her leg had been cut off.
Trying to pull himself away from the siren of sleep, Bastien shook his head at the half dragon's question.
"Nothing that I could sense, boss. I'd need an Incantifer to know for sure."
"Vuyo?" Jalal asked, turning his head to his left. Dani ceased scraping the wire brush over his shoes to shake his head.
"I haven't seen her for weeks, Jalal. I think she's in Zimbabwe. And there's no guarantee she'd come anyway - she hates the city."
"Bet she'd come if Thando asked her," Astra smirked in a dirty fashion and the young Xhosa man suddenly became very interested in making sure all the pins in the map were the right way up. In spite of his anxiety, Bastien allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch. In the middle of the fireplace, Jalal seemed to be mentally counting to ten, and Bastien did not blame him. Astra did a phenomenal job policing Durban and the surrounding provinces by herself, but her mind permanently swam in the gutter. Dani operated out of Johannesburg, and usually had the most contact with the nature loving Incantifer, who had made her home in Kruger National Park.
"Try and get in touch with her as a matter of urgency," Jalal asked. "I'd rather have someone who knows the area, but if you haven't heard from her by the end of the week, I'll send somebody. We don't have time to waste."
"Do you have any thoughts, Jalal?" Bastien asked, hope springing to life at the insistence in their leader's voice.
"Several," Jalal admitted. "But without more information to work on, I can't be certain."
Unbidden, Bastien remembered detective Nkhosi's description of being blindfolded over one eye. He wondered how the man would react if he knew that the Shadowchasers were groping in darkness too.
"We're quiet over in the east right now," Astra admitted, her voice holding no hint of the teasing it had moments ago. She kicked her leg back and forth a few times, completely unaware as it vanished and reappeared into the plasma screen. "Do you guys want me to come down and help?"
It would be useful to have another pair of eyes, but before Bastien could reply, Dani interrupted.
"Actually Astra, I was hoping you'd be able to cover the mines for the next week or two," he sounded very apologetic. "I've had so many border crossings it's not even funny."
That explained the mud on his boots, Bastien thought. Border crossings usually meant poachers, who sadly, were just as common among Shadowkind as they were among the Mundane. Vuyo wasn't going to like that when she came back.
"Sure," Astra was all too keen to agree. "I can take them off your hands. The dwarves like me."
"That's because they don't have to look up to talk to you."
"Screw you, Thando."
"Let me know if you need any backup, and I can arrange something," Jalal interrupted the good natured squabbling. "Hopefully it won't come to that, and Vuyo will be able to shed enough light on the situation for us to take action."
A loud buzz sounded through the living room, causing everyone's heads to turn to the hallway.
"Curry's here," Thando announced happily.
"I've got it," Bastien said, getting to his feet, his spine cracking like a whip as he straightened. Stifling another yawn, he headed for the kitchen to retrieve his wallet.
It was only as he headed back to the living room, with a paper bag full of warm food, that he realised that the call had not ended yet.
"-still got his full twenty five days of annual leave, according to our records," on the surface, Jalal's tone was one of polite enquiry, but the worry was just discernible beneath it. Freezing behind the door, Bastien listened closely.
"He says he'd have nothing to do." Thando's normally upbeat tone had also dipped with worry. "And all of my suggestions get shrugged off too."
Understanding dawned, and Bastien felt something heavy settle in his stomach. The smell of the curry met him again, but he suddenly found that he had no appetite for it.
"Jalal, you're acting like this is something new," Astra said pointedly, and Bastien could picture her folding her arms at their boss. "This is what he did last year. The only reason he used any of his holiday was to go to his sister's wedding. Working is just how he copes."
"I'm no expert," Dani's voice was low and uncertain, and the scratching of wire on boot had vanished. "But it's been three years. Shouldn't he have moved beyond just 'coping'."
"People mourn in very different ways, Dani," Jalal said, sadly. "He might never be over it. But even if that is the case, he shouldn't be allowed to let work consume him. Keep doing what you can, Thando. A good friend can make all the difference sometimes."
"Wise words, boss," Thando nodded, before muttering something in his native tongue. Bastien's Xhosa was very basic, but he understood that his friend was complaining about his stubbornness. He made a point of moving the paper bag from one arm to the other, loudly rustling the paper, before re-entering the room. Thando noticeably perked up at the presence of food, and as the holograms said their goodbyes and vanished from the room, taking the serious tone of the night with them.
It was almost possible, Bastien thought, picking over his chicken, to pretend that nothing was wrong at all.
Almost.
OOO
"You ever think it's time to retire?" Fayte asked the top of the pink towel, pointedly. It was immediately yanked off, and Terpischore's aghast face appeared through her damp, dreadlocking green hair.
"Are you kidding? Tonight was awesome!" the Springweather matriarch fistpumped the air, and Fayte ducked the incoming damp towel. "Zombie invasion, stabbing things, creepy doctor with tentacle arms, stabbing more things…"
"Almost getting your own arm pulled out," Rayearth finished dryly, pouring herself a fresh cup of coffee.
"That was all part of my cunning plan!"
Down the corridor a loud groan filled the air, before trailing off with a frustrated whine. A shirt sailed through the air and landed in a deflated heap in the corridor.
"Are we sure all the body parts are back in the correct graves?" Rave asked.
"Everything, aside from that stray finger that Becky found in her hair on the way home," the resident Incantifer assured her.
"I still don't want to know how you can identify bodies when the occupants have been dead for decades," Terpy admitted with a shudder, before frowning. "Where's my son?"
"In the shower," Rave muttered. "I think he's still trying to scrub the wrong out of his brain."
The green-haired Shadowchaser huffed. "So much for hooking you two up after a few drinks tonight…"
"What was that, Terpy?"
"Nothing dear."
A fresh yell of defeat echoed down the corridor, along with a flying bra.
"I can't take it anymore!" Becky's voice was shrill. "Tsuki, I need you right now!"
A door swung open a little further away as the succubus answered the call.
"I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Terpy and Rave exchanged looks of alarm, before their eyes darted over to Fayte. The vampire casually continued to read the news as though nothing were amiss. The sound of a loud straining zip ripped through the corridor.
"...if you're plans this morning don't involve sleeping, Terpischore-" Rayearth interjected curtly.
"Not at all!" Terpy jolted out of her eavesdropping to nod at her boss. "Sleep is for losers!"
"-then there was a call from Primwell about an hour ago. I thought perhaps you might like to take it."
"Sweet! Day out with Daddy!" Terpy inhaled the rest of her breakfast so fast that any normal person would have choked, before banging her fork down on the plate. "Just let me wash up and I'll get my boots!"
"Is it in?" came the frustrated British accent from two doors away.
"Yup, just about!"
"Good!"
With a scrape of her chair, Rave abandoned her breakfast to press her ear against the wall. With maple syrup still lingering at the corner of her mouth, Terpy paused on her way out to join her. The two voices strained and grunted together.
"It's not working!"
"Hang on. Maybe if I sit and bounce on it…"
The creaking of a bedframe began in earnest. Once more the two eavesdropping Shadowchasers turned to stare at their vampire comrade, who continued to read her paper with little care. Rayearth sipped her coffee, completely unbothered by the groaning coming from the bedroom.
With a final thunderous thump, the creaking stopped. Two sets of exhausted panting floated down the corridor, followed by the loud yank of a zip with a triumphant cry.
"Phew! Thanks Tsuki. You are amazing." Becky sounded remarkably out of breath.
"Yeah I know. Now come on. We need to leave at ten, and you haven't had breakfast yet."
The door creaked open, and Rave and Terpy nearly fell over themselves in their haste to retreat from the wall. There was just enough time for Rave to start playing Fruit Ninja, and for Terpy to dive into the sink, before the kitchen door opened, and Becky and Tsuki appeared, dragging two carry-on bags and a very large, fully stuffed suitcase.
"Oooh…" Rave breathed gently in realisation. With a heavy sigh, Fayte rolled up her newspaper and smacked her over the head with it. A little confused by the interaction, Becky's eyes flicked between them.
"Huh?" she asked, scratching sleep out of her eyes. Rayearth cleared her throat.
"They're going to miss you," she filled in. The British girl's eyes lit up.
"Aww! I'm going to miss you guys too!" She threw her arms around an unprotesting Terpy, who planted a handful of bubbles in her face.
"Did you pack everything?" Fayte asked, as Tsuki slid into the seat next to her for a good morning peck on the lips.
"Probably not," came the shrug, as Becky grabbed Terpy's abandoned pink towel to dry off her face. "You always forget something. You can post it to me in London...oh! Actually, I couldn't find my hair straighteners."
Terpy froze in the act of draining the sink. "Oh...really?"
"...yeah," Becky said slowly and suspiciously. "I had them on Monday and I haven't seen them since. Why?"
"No reason," Terpy said a little too innocently, seizing her towel and turning on her heel. "'Scuse me please. I have...horsies…"
And she darted off, in a whirl of green and blue.
