Authors note:
1. This carries on where To Save the World Ended.
2. This involves the world of Anita Blake. Before anyone says you cannot write this, it quite clearly states in the publishing rules (read them carefully) that respects the wishes of the following authors/publishers and will not archive entries based on their work'. This list includes the likes of Anne Rice, Terry Goodkind, PN Elrod. Laurell K Hamilton is fourth in the list.
That said, hopefully people will enjoy the story and read it for what it is, a piece of fiction based on two genres that I love.
Chapter 1
He was looking at the 'timer' that the Ieldra had altered who had made it a little more user friendly. All that was required was to give it to Quinn, was temporarily helping Molly Caffrey at Threshold. Turning it over in his hands, all the keys were digitalized, and apparently it had been made to withstand impact and large amounts of damage. Mark caught a button, oh bollocks what had he done?!? All of a sudden a portal opened and started to pull him in. He tried to jump away from the vortex, or wormhole, and even left fingerprints as he tried to hang onto the metal kitchen work top. Oooooh Shit!!!!
He was unceremoniously dumped on his rear end on a pavement. Ouch, that hurt!
Mark looked around, it was certainly dark, night time even. If he wasn't mistaken it looked like St Louis, but different somehow. Grabbing at the timer, he examined the display which seemed to be remarkably blank. How helpful is that? Could be bloody anywhere. Listening, there was loud musc in the background, probably a club, and decided to 'bite the bullet' and find out more about where he was. Find some people who may be able provide information. Zipping up his jacket to hide any weapons, Mark walked along the pavement, spotting a newspaper dispenser out the corner of his eye, examining the title, St Louis Gazette, 20?? The date wasn't clear. Damn. Knowledge is power and right now he had none. Deciding to conceal his Quickening and not wanting to appear a threat and get into a fight as soon as he got here.
He continued to walk and could see the name of the club, 'Guilty Pleasures', it sounded like a strip joint. Walking towards the club, Mark sensed that the doormen, and many clientele going in screamed 'preternatural', their movements were just too fluid to be mortal. Having no idea of their abilities or what they were capable of. Shit, this was tactically unsound. He approached the door, and walked past the doorman and using an old ninja technique to blend in, to be invisible by appearing to be non-threatening and not making eye contact, but not in the way that anyone could identify with being 'shifty'. Luckily the doorman did not bother with a search, dismissing the spectre walking by. Although the doorman was physically a very large guy and if he was a betting man, probably a vampire; able to be too still to be anything else. Mark saw a couple of men on stage stripping off, so it was a strip joint! Watching carefully and with practiced ease, he would hazard a bet that it was a shapeshifter on stage, for they are fluid in a different way to vampires of his world.
Categorising everything seen, using the rules he knew, dangerous, they might be different here. Must be ready for anything. He saw people handing over money at the bar which seemed identical to what was used 'back home'. Taking a chance Mark decided to order a couple of beers, make it look like he was waiting for someone. After about ten minutes, he downed the first and sipped the other. Methos has a lot to answer for! Not many people knew this, only the League and Methos, that before Mark became an Immortal, he was infected with several vampire virus', so in a sense was a hybrid, and might appear to others as a vampire, if such exist here.
He seemingly appeared to be watching the staqge, but was in actuality examining everyone who walked nearby. What he saw next caused Mark to gulp and almost choke on his beer as what could only be a vampire actually drain another preternatural on stage, how weird? The show continued, and something cuased the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end as Mark saw a woman walk; a brunette of five foot exactly; the way she walked indicated somekind of weapon, probably a gun. She had the eyes of a killer and standing next to her was another preternatural about six foot with long brown hair to his waist. Freaky.
He saw the woman walk towards the door and putting the beer on a table follwed towards the exit. She seemed in a hurry all of a sudden. Following a killer who left in a hurry was kind of stupid, but his instincts to prevent the worst seemed to take over. She sped onto the street with her friend with the long hair, and they ran around the corner. He followed at a discreet pace, at least until a couple of thuds were heard, punctuated by a scream of pain. Picking up his speed to approximately 40mph, not full out, but enough, stopped near the corner to see both the woman and her friend with long hair go tumbling end over end, being thrown by some asshole. His mystic senses definitely picked up the vampire traits, noticing no respiration pattern, or heartbeat.
He liked a quick kill with vampires, always had, and so switching rounds preternaturally fast reloaded with a kind of irradiated liquid in a 'dum dum' round, liquid daylight- vampire killers! "Freeze asshole, or you're dead"
"Silver won't kill me" he hissed.
"That's lucky for me, it's not silver" Mark replied and pulled the trigger, shooting straight for the head. The bullet penetrated brain, glowing a blue colour, that is until the asssailant caught fire and started screaming, clawing at his head.
"What the fuck did you shoot him with?" the woman inquired, drawing her gun. The male was also back on his feet, eyes changing to amber. Probably a shapeshifter. Holstering his sidearm, Mark drew a shoto, and quickly removed the head watching as both toppled lifelessly to the floor; leaving a burning and immobile corpse.
"That's murder" the woman said "And I should arrest you right here" she said pointing a firestar pistol at Marks' head.
"He was attacking you and you're friend" Mark replied defensively.
"What kind of rounds were those?" inquired the woman.
"That's classified" it couldn't hurt to play Government agent, might just get out of this tight spot; but he doubted it. Certainly couldn't use the truth, "oh and by the way I am from another universe". That would get him locked up real quick, looney tune coming through!
"You Government" she inquired.
"I'll do this slow, but here's my DoD ID", and slowly removed my ID. If she checked me out he probably wouldn't exist, unless there was another 'him' here and that could go either way.
"I'll need to check this" she replied, "Can't say I've seen many agents with two wakizashis, and two pistols"
"Okay. I'll do you a deal. We'll forget the check, and I give you a round of my ammunition and pretend it fell on the floor, otherwise they'll be agents everywhere". Mark could see her struggle with the turmoil of the decision. She handed back the ID, which he took as a good sign. When he got here the timer gave a duration period before a new wormhole was generated. It had stated ten years, but according to the Ieldra contact this date could be manually altered.
A thousand things went through Marks' mind, if he's stuck here for ten years, a job would be required. The fact that he was not an agent could cause problems. Right now he needed information and looking at her with mystical senses, she appeared different - not quite human either, but as though connected to others. Very strange. "What's your name" he asked.
"Anita Blake. Yours?"
"Mark Sabat, What's the name of your friend?"
"Nathaniel, Why?"
"You got a card?"
"Yes" she answered. "Why would a government agent want that?"
"Just in case I run into you again" he blagged.
"Mmmmmm" she answered dubiously and pulled out a card, handing it to him.
She watched the stranger leave in awe, at least for what passed for it in her case. Not for the individual, more of the ammunition he had just used and how much simpler it would make her job. He had to have some serious connections to be using, whatever this blue shit is, but something about the rest of it did not seem quite right. Nathaniel was okay though, and she had to be getting homke shortly, the ardeur was rising and would soon need to be sated. First thing in the morning she would make some enquiries into who the stranger was.
Mark didn't think she was taken in by the explanation given, but she wanted the anti-vamp rounds more. Can't blame her really. He would look her up again, if the timer couldn't be adjusted. Always best to have a back up plan. He left, not wanting to be stranded near a burning and headles body. After walking a couple of miles away, he pulled the timer from a pocket, only to find it wouldn't change. Oh well, maybe it would be ten years here, could always enroll in the army or FBI. His skills should get attention and probable recruitment fairly quickly.
Mark needed somewhere to sleep tonight, and not wanting to risk using anymore currency decided to go back to the club; perhaps seduce a woman. Interesting idea.
It had been an interesting night, the woman obviously not prepared for the endurance of Immortals. Eventually we slept, albeit very lightly. She was getting out of bed, and the rustle of fabric as she put on a silk dressing gown woke him. "I'm just going to take a shower" Marie said.
"Okay" he replied, hearing the sound of running water as she turned on the fawcett. Swinging his legs out of the bed and putting on his boxers, walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Rummaging through a cupboard, he eventually found a glass and ran the cold tap, prefering it really cold. He let the cold liquid run down his throat, savouring the feeling as his body re-hydrated. Leaving the water running, picked up the kettel, re-filling it with fresh water. While it boiled Mark went to get the morning paper which had recently thumped against the doorstep.
When Marie walked into the kitchen, still in her dressing gown, he was drinking coffee and reading the headlines, still trying to get around the idea that the preternatural was legal, vampires and all. It was illegal, and considered murder to kill one without a court warrant. That would certainly make sense of last night's fiasco.
They indulged in various small talk, and eventually Mark decided to have a shower. No point using magic to clean up, enjoying the feel of hot water on skin, and the lather of the shower gel. After drying, picked up his t-shirt, smelling last nights stale cigarette smoke. Putting on his clothes, kissed her goodbye and walked out the house. The arrangement was for him to call later, and take her out tonight.
The next few months were almost a blur, the timer was the first concern, and deciding to try to fix it. So Mark ran as he had no car, hoping to find a DIY store. Walking in found screw drivers immediately, and decided to risk using currency once more, purchased them. He took apart the timer at the back of the store, hoping no one was watching. The technology inside way beyond him, Quinn might have been fine with this, but he certainly wasn't. Looks like he might well be here ten years at this rate. Shit a doodle do!
Information was the next order of the day, and Mark found a library. Luckily it also had an internet connection. Being immortal has its advantages, and eidetic memory being one of them, and he did as much research as possible on the preternatural, history, laws, different species. Also over the years he'd learnt to speed read, comes in handy. He was there most days until about 5pm, having read thousands of articles.
Money was not a problem at the minute, there were thousands still in a wallet. Research seemed to indicate that there seemed to be no difference between what was used at home and here. It was then realisation dawned, a way to make easy money. Find some low level drug dealers and kill them, steal everything including their identities. All Mark needed now was a victim or two and deciding to make an impact around here 'flagged' a taxi. Opening the door to get in, the drivers expression extremely amusing when he asked "Take me to the outskirts of dodgiest gang district around here". Priceless.
What happened next isn't really worth writing about, except to say that once the ID's were removed off the almost dead bodies, Mark used magic to compel them to tell give up the information of who they worked for. Next stop was to get the 'big fish'. He entered the house unseen and killed them all, luckily it was only combatabts that were in residence at the time. Mark got the important information, like account numbers and passwords, torture can be a wonderful thing, a few million up. It is quite easy for a preternatural to get rich quick, if they need to. There are preternaturals that are unscrupulous enough where he came from to do just that and quite often control many drug cartels, or huge crime syndicates.
Leaving no living witnesses, and no forensic evidence just snapped a few necks on both occasions. Then from a couple of blocks away, a large fire started where he had just been, sometimes explosives are very useful! Wonder how that happened, accident-not! Once the material was purchased for faking ID's, he was all set. This did not take as long as one would think, a few hours-tops. All that was required was to rent a hotel room for a night. While this was happening, he asked for a number of really good estate agent, may as well house hunt with the recent funds. He hadn't actually owned a house in centuries, usually preferring large buildings from which to stage operations, deciding to start small-ish, he called in at an estate agents. Unfortunately he found looking at property exceedingly boring, unless he could change the building to suite any needs required.
In this case it wasn't really an option and settled for a five bedroom house with nice garden. That and the furniture cost almost half a million – funds now not a problem. Once done, Mark went into a gun store and ordered some guns, and a decent car from a dealership and a few other things. Setting up is not easy! In the next few days it would take for things to happen, Mark took the opportunity to 'price' up the special ammunition used, this is not the kind of thing you do on the internet, and used what was known from home. It was going to be expensive, and highly illegal!
Time would come when he would need to kill some 'major players', and may need to zip to South America, and offing a cartel. He'd done it quite a few times before with a squad of special forces, but that was home and until more was known would need to stay reasonably smallish. For all he knew a seriously dangerous vampire ran them, and he could get wasted. When night came, he got a taxi to another city, and killed a couple more drug dealers. A couple of them were Wereolves, but not too powerful. He also discovered one little fact, shapeshifters here were not as strong as back home, especially of the Corvinus line. He made it sound easy and it wasn't that difficult to be truthful, but to rationalise it two werewolves that are not immortal or even long lived; and a couple of dozen humans wielding SMG's against someone who is just over a 1000 years old. In his world he had read just about every tactic, espionage and military manual in existence on the western hemisphere; and quite a few in Russia too. They were dead, not a chance. However, if he ran across a major vampire, or shapeshifter, far too dangerous at the minute.
Cash was accumulating though, and transferring a lot of their monies into one account, then started to transfer it all over, the idea of making it really hard to trace, something any long lived preternatural being gets good at is hiding trails, money or otherwise. Sort of our raison d'être as it were, the alternative unthinkable really. Next step was get set up as hunter and it would be neccesary to go on a few courses, get recognized, and in effect turning him into a federal marshal. How stupid is that. Most humans that turn hunters that don't have preternatural skills, either have backup or wind up dead; very very quickly. Ho hum. Needless to say the course was easy. He still sort of seeing Marie, but used the excuse of moving house and setting up a new business to get space, hence not too much time, but she was busy at work anyway. While the irradiated fluid rounds are hard to make, he was still trying to arrange it, geeting silver nitrate into hollow points is not so difficult.
While the law was almost identical here, except the preternatural stuff. There was also a nearby university that did 'Preternatural Studies'. Using the time wisely, he had a few words with the lecturer, and asked about text books on the subject. All in all, he was very busy over the next few months. He set my self up, as a preternatural investigator / exterminator or hunter. Within a day or two of the company getting set up, the news got out, he received a call from the Master of the City's secretary or something. Someone called Jason left a voicemail. Jean-Claude wanted a meeting at 3am. This would be interestingas it was currently 3pm and there would be plenty of time to prepare. There was no chance of going in unarmed, but if he went in the front door there was no chance of going in armed. An alternatie route would be required. He used the dealers contacts, and money to get hold of quite a bit of kit.
Deciding a job would be a good thing and trying to seem 'normal', as relying on a contract would not pay the bills, plus the funds were dwindling fast. For some reason he recognised the name 'Animators Inc', but suffering from mortal and immortal tiredness was taking its' toll. Perhaps it should've waited for another day? Catching a taxi to their offices, and ensuring his appearance was immaculate, no point looking disheveled. It was just the name of the company, and wondered what he was really getting myself into.
It was a really plush office, and the people here earnt good money. Looking around, and there seemed to be an older lady, about 40 ish, obviously the secretary outside the door of another office belonging to Bert Vaughn; at least that what the name said on the door. She looked up.
"Hi, I'd like to see Bert"
"He's in a meeting at the minute, may I take a name?"
"Mark Sabat" he said and sat reading a couple of magazines. Eventually, a large guy came out of the office, all six foot plus of him, presumably this was Bert?
"This gentlemen is here to see you, name of Mark Sabat"
"Come in" Bert said extending a hand to shake. We shook hands and was led into an office, and sat down.
"Can I get you anything, tea, coffee?"
"Coffee would be great". Unfortunately, alcohol, coffee, and lots of other drugs do not work very well on Immortals due to our exceedingly fast metabolism; but good coffee tastes heavenly. From what my olfactory senses could pick up, the smell was fantastic.
"Black, cream, milk, any sugar"
"Cream please Bert" Mark replied, waiting until a cup of sweet smelling coffee was proferred and Bert sat down with his own cup.
"What can I do for you then, do you need somebody raising?" It was starting to fit together now, the name, and the question. Here came the lie, and care would needed with this. Very careful indeed.
"No Bert. I work for the DoD, and I want out; and would like a job"
"Why would you want to work for us, we don't have the resources you will be used to?" Mark could tell Bert was trying to gauge his reaction, and subsequent answer.
"I'd fed up of not officially existing"
"How so?"
"As far as the paperwork goes I do not exist. I have no fingerprints on file, and my name is a nothing?"
"You really expect me to believe that?"
"It is the truth Bert. I have no identity, and when I hand in my badge this afternoon all my life will be wiped away. Most in my profession either choose to be Mercs, or set up their own identity. I would rather the latter"
"What exactly can you bring to my team?" Here goes another selling pitch.
"I met one of your colleagues a few months back, Anita Blake" and opening his jacket extracted a clip, removing a blue out. "I gave one of these to Anita. State of the art, anti-vamp rounds. Liquid sunlight. Aim for the head or the heart, flambé vampire"
"You're serious?" he said picking up the round.
"I shot a vamp in front of your colleague, call her" Mark suggested, seeing Bert captivated by the round, rollng it around in his fingers, watching the liquid. Bert picked up the phone and started to dial a number. He turned up his hearing, trying to listen in on their conversation.
"Anita, its Bert"
"I'm on my way in, what's wrong?"
"Get in here now, fast. You met someone, a few months back"
"I meet lots of people Bert" she replid, obviously taking delight in annying him.
"He shot and killed a vampire, yes?"
"Yeh, why. He gave me some kind of vampire killing round which no one knows anything about"
"He's here, and gave me one too. Does it really work like he says it does?" Mark could see greed in Bert's eyes there, almost watching the dollar signs rolling in his eyes like a cartoon.
"Yes it does. Is he still there Bert, cos if he is don't do anything till I arrive?"
"Thanks Anita" and he hung up.
Ten minutes later Anita strode in, for a woman of five foot bugger all, she could move really fast, with the same friend from last time.
"Hello again Anita" Mark said standing, extending a hand so she could shake it. She did not look happy, but shook his hand anyway. She put a little too much force in for a human. Deciding to 'play the game', "Ouch, that hurt" Mark said extracting the extremity and rubbing it with a free hand trying to make nonexistent hurt go away; and hoped it was convincing.
"Anita was that really necessary?"
"What" she said trying to like as innocent as Kermit the Frog.
"What do you want from me Mr Sabat?" Bert inquired.
"A job obviously"
"If I were to patent that round, I've had every blood sucker on my ass, physical or metaphorical, out for my blood" remarked Anita. Bert paled at that thought.
"But Bert, if a company were to patent it, and provide vampire killing in a way no one else could, think of the money" There go his eyes again, kerching!
"Can you confirm this round does what it says, killed a vampire in one shot"
"Yes, it does, and would like to know what it is" she quizzed with a slight amount of menace.
"It is actually irradiated fluid, and unless you have the formula it'll take at least two years to manufacture, resource depending" Mark stated reaching behind for another clip. Anita instinctively went for her gun. "I wouldn't if I were you" she said pointing a gun in my direction.
"Easy tiger, I'm just getting another type of round for shapeshifters" and he heard a growl from across the table, Nathaniel wasn't happy. Mark didn't bother in the end, "Silver nitrate. Same M.O as vampire rounds, head or heart are best" Anita's friend was getting really angry about these rounds.
"Are you telling me rounds like these filled with silver nitrate will kill a werewolf?"
"Call it how you like, one shot, and generally dead. Both are hollow point rounds so as to cause maximum damage on impact and spread of the poison into their bodies"
"What do you want Mr Sabat" Anita asked.
"I want an identity and a job"
"I need to make a call" Anita replied and walked out of the room, Nathaniel followed. From what he could hear which was everything; she was speaking to someone called Edward; presumably an ex-spook, or Black-ops type. This could go seriously 'tits up' and heard that Edward was coming to town, fan-fucking-tastic. He might still get away with it, having a 'backup' lie ready too. Here goes the next round. Ding ding!
She and Nathaniel walked back in.
"Everything okay Anita?' Bert inquired.
"Yeh fine" and gave him a 'look' that said you are being watched. No point being timid about this, may as well broach the question eh?
"So, what do you think Bert? We get me a new legal identity. I give you the formula for both rounds, and casings. We patent them, and make loads of money. That and use the additional resource to hunt any preternaturals that break the law?"
"Okay" Bert said. Again, that greed reflex in his eyes. This guy worshipped money, if only Bert knew how much money Mark had 'back home'.
"You can't okay anything till the partners take an overall vote Bert"
"Unless you hire me Anita, no formula and no rounds. Do you want to hunt vampires where silver may not be enough? Think about it. I'll call you tomorrow for your decision" and walked out of the office.
As soon as Mark left Anita gave Bert the most withering stare she could, "Why the hell did you let him in?"
"Why shouldn't I? If those rounds are as good as you say they are, we could make a mint"
"Don't be stupid Bert, stop thinking about money all the damn time! If some faction of the government were using these, we'd be crawling with spooks before you know it. Plus, the glowing blue thing has got to be so highly illgal as to be breaking who knows how many laws. I've spoken to some people I know and this round is unknown, even to them"
"Okay, so forget about that for minute, what about the silver nitrate round; if he were willing to give us the secret of that"
"If it even exists, he wasn't exactly forthcoming!"
"Only because you pointed a gun at him!" Bert replied towering over her.
"Maybe he antagonised me, hoping I would do that, as further proof it doesn't exist"
"How many times Anita, you don't draw on potential clients, or someone we might hire!" She stormed off, and knew that Bert was at least partially right, but she couyldn't shake her intuition on this, something about him was not right, and she would find out what. Perhaps it was time to talk to Jean-Claude about it? Walking into the kitchen with her mug poured herself a cup of cofee; at least until her pager went. RIPIT, always called at the wrong time.
Mark was ready for the meeting later and had a BP vest, military issue, that could also store items with two shotos in 'holsters' like guns under either arm. Underneath the left holster was a 9mm handgun, another gun in the small of his back. A P90 with plenty of spare ammo, some of which was stored in a small backpack. This same pack, also military issue held some grenades, two fragmentation, three flashbangs, and a couple of thermites. Mark looked dressed for the battlefield, and off he drove to meet at the club 'Guilty Pleasures'. Fairly certain a fair number of dress codes were being broken and other laws, but fuck it. Probably run by master vampire, and he hadn't survived this long by playing nice and fair. To hide the vest a little bit he had a jacket on.
They would obviously expect entry through the main door, screw that. He had got the building plans and an entrance existed on the roof that led all the way down to the club and any other entry point would be guarded.
He approached the building and parking about three blocks away, and walked the rest on foot. At the back of the club, there was a nice back alley, secluded and away from surveillance and placing his body flush to the wall, climbed it like a spider. It was nothing paranormal, just something he had been taught during training using correct breathing and visualisation. Quickly checking over the lip of the building, saw no sentries and made his way to roof entrance. Noticing the door was padlocked, picked the lock and very quietly and carefully made his way inside. No guards, nothing and coming down the stairs noticed there was still no one around.
It led straight into the club itself, via another doorway. Looking at this door though, it required a very simple keycode entry, and reaching into his backpack got the relevant piece of kit out. As the keycode flashed onto the display, he put the code decipherer away and typed it into the keypad. At a guess though, anyone that came in through this way would viewed as friendly, either that or they could sense another preternatural threat. Mark focused his hearing, trying to 'drown out' the music, and sensing no one on the other side carefully pulled the door ajar, quickly checking no one was walking down the corridor. It was either a very well orchestrated trap, or they expected him to enter through the front door. Pulling the zip up on his jacket not wanting to alarm others in the club, or attract unwanted attention, walked down a corridor which led into the club proper. He walked around a group of people all looking at the stage, and using the distraction went towards the office. Mark could hear voices in there, Anita's, somebody else; and another with a voice that sounded like silk. Opening the door, he went into the 'lions den' and noticed their shocked reaction.
"I believe we had an appointment, I assume you are Jean-Claude?" Mark said to the man behind the desk. He was a very attractive man, he really didn't swing that way, with long dark curly hair to his waist, wearing a business suit. The other was a well built man, obviously did weights, had very tanned skin, and brown hair to his shoulders. Anita stood there in black jeans, a roll neck, and trainers. At least he wasn't too underdressed, looking like he belonged in a SWAT team. Jean-Claude stood up, but did not offer to shake hands.
"Usually for appointments people come in through the front door" he replied smoothly, "I am Jean-Claude, Anita you've met, and this is Richard"
"Morning folks. Now what can I do for you Jean-Claude at this hour?"
Mark could hear him mentally summoning help to his office and with a mean predatory smile said "That will not be necessary JC, summoning help". He could read shock in all of them, although they did not show it by facial reaction; it's all in the eyes. Anita's eyes had a feral look about them. Two very large vampires walked through the door, closing it behind them.
"We want to know where this ammunition came from" Jean-Claude said pointing at a distance to the blue ammunition and Mark could hear another walking towards the door, and it opened.
Through it walked a man who was almost 5' 8" walked in with sandy hair, and the coldest ass eyes next to his, a pro killer, no doubt about it; obviously this would have to be Anita's friend. He also had a gun pointed at Mark, and walked to the opposite side of the office. So that way if he missed, or the bullet went through him, it wouldn't hit anyone else.
"Told you, it's classified" Mark answered and stood there completely nonchalantly.
"I have never seen this type of ammunition before, ever" said the man with the gun.
"What does that prove? Not one damn thing"
"Maybe I have some government contacts?"
"Do you have any current or ex Area 51 contacts?" and watched as the figure shook his head.
"No"
"Didn't think so. So here's a bus load of shut the fuck up" and flipped him off, just to antagonise some more. Being the true professional he didn't care less. Points for him.
"You expect us to believe you're from Area 51" Anita asked.
"Read between the line people, please engage just one brain cell, come on, just one" It was Jean-Claude who spoke next.
"This was deliberate by the Government, leak them into circulation to prove there are other methods of killing us"
"Hurray for the vampire brains in the operation. Even anti-shapeshifter rounds too. Would you like to see?" They all nodded their heads. "I know Ted, easy does it". Immortal intuition is a great thing, we all have it, improves as we age and reached into my pocket, and threw one over to Jean-Claude who caught it flawlessly.
"Both rounds are hollow point, for maximum damage on impact. The silver nitrate, and irradiated fluid spread throughout the tissue causing irreparable damage. Aim for the head or the heart, anything else is your ass"
"What I want to know is why then set yourself up as a vampire executioner?" asked Anita, eyeing him very carefully. For some reason he kept turning up, was he stalking her? Some sick joke of Olafs'. No she decided, he would do that himself, and certainly would not send someone else.
"Why not? I have a unique skill set, and equipment to enable me to do it" he droned on.
"If I were to tell the vampire council of this, their wrath would be unpleasant" said Jean-Claude by way of threat. She knew Belle Morte would be so angry to think that the government was stockpiling weapons to kill vampires.
"You think we don't know where they are? Or have better weapons than this if the need arises? Area 51 is a good 20 years or more ahead of normal government, which is ten years ahead of you" Anita looked at 'Ted' who nodded. Why had she never spoken to Edward about this? Surely they couldn't be that far ahead? She would discuss this with Edward later.
"So you're telling the truth, what does the Government plan to do to the Council if they don't like it?' asked Jean-Claude.
"If they play up, then vampires are history. Just another way to ensure that the Council do not interfere where they are not wanted. It just so happens there is a biological weapon in the US, and France to kill everyone of you. It'll take a few months to spread. But no where on earth will be safe. Complete genocide"
"They wouldn't dare" said Richard.
"Oh they would" said Jean-Claude, "how quickly humanity destroys what it cannot tolerate or understand. I cannot tell the Council of either fact, I fear what would happen. They would take it as a declaration of war." Anita saw Jean-Claude look Mark in the eye, obviously trying to 'roll' his mind, surprised when nothing happened, another mystery.
Mark feared very few things, the Ogdru Jahad for one. "May I go now, or is there anything further JC?" Mark could also tell his abbreviation was causing annoyance, albeit slightly.
"Yes you may go" said Jean-Claude. Phew, manipulation was complete at this point. Not only did they believe he was an operative, or ex-operative of this Government, but Area 51 too. If one is willing to experiment with Quickening, it allows absolute body control, to ensure there were no 'tells' indicating a lie. His heart beat did not change, neither did pheromones or respiration. Keeping your opponent off balance is essential in any manipulation.
"Excuse me" Mark said to the vampire doormen. They looked down at him with real anger in their eyes, and 'Ted' thought this was a mistake on their part. Never give your opponent a weapon, especially one like anger. Although everything this Mark had said about technology was true, even he doubted the government was trying to find a way to neutralise vampires wholesale, but Edward intended to ask a few questions of his contacts later. Looking at Anita, it was obvious she had questions, and they would be ones only he could answer.
"Let him leave" Jean-Claude said and they moved allowing Mark to walk out the office, closing the door behind him.
Exiting the club, he could feel intention directed at him. The best way to describe it is if you've been out walking somewhere, and look about 20-30 meters behind and find someone was looking in your direction and as soon as you see them, they look away. It's exactly like that, except he'd refined the sense for use against snipers. He had a tail and looking around caught a blur in the sky. An airborne tail.
Walking a few blocks in the wrong direction, and down a side street, found an apartment block with ladders up the side and climbed to the roof.
"Come out, come out where ever you are. I know you're there vampire" and increasing his sight spotted a blonde vampire. "I can see you" and undoing his jacket reached for a pistol and silencer. "Land or I will shoot you dead" he said aiming. He was fast and Mark shot him in the gut. The pistols are a version of the 'five seveN', a 9mm pistol for use with the P90, i.e. they use the same rounds. Will penetrate a Kevlar jacket at 300 meters, and here's the doozy, when they enter the target they rotate without deformation and don't tumble; hence a more grievous wound. Nice eh? Needless to say the vampire was hurt, and bleeding. But with a 21mm hole all the way through you, what's new?
"Last chance to land, slowly, or I do the same to your head?"
The vampire came in for a slow landing, and Mark shot out both kneecaps, watching the as he fell screaming. "If you want to talk to me, use the damn phone! Follow me again", and pointing the gun at his head "I'll fucking destroy you. Now fuck off!" and walked to the edge of the building, and carefully climbed down the stairs. This was a dangerous game being played, and knew he must be very careful or it would be undone. Suddenly his mobile rang, someone somewhere needed a vampire slaying. Goody he got to kill someone!
He knew they would find out the truth, or some flaw in the story eventually; either that or his preternatural nature would be seen, or surface or something. If the 'jig' wasn't already up with Jean-Claude unable to enter his mind and extreme caution was now the best course of action. The 'bottom line' was that he needed friends of some sort or Mark was in serious trouble or totally dead.
The slaying was routine, in the sense it was an escapee from a nearby morgue and he deliberately went hand to hand with it, just to see how strong they were. This newbie was incredibly strong, more so than a were, and was stronger than the Corvinus line. Vampires are strong here with an insane pain tolerance, able to take tremendous amounts of damage, more so than he would have thought possible, despite no real physical changes. His quest for knowledge from Methos made him take blood and tissue samples. Despite this, something felt 'wrong' off almost. He had too much energy recently, able to go for longer without tiring.
How strong would Jean-Claude be if they fought? Some of the older vampires here you could shoot with silver and they would keep coming, despite injuries. They would heal though not as fast as an immortal. Shit! Maybe he had just bitten off more than he could chew. Mark doubted they had his combat experience of constantly fighting their own kind, and other preternaturals, but for some reason that explanation 'niggled' within his mind, almost like a germ of thought. Only time would tell and he had a lunch date with Marie tomorrow, and decided to get some sleep.
Arriving home there was no one around, so he undressed and left his things near the bed. Just in case. Mark slept till about 5am, and couldn't sleep any more. Having been so busy of late, there had been no opportunity to train and deciding to switch on on the laptop, he missed his old one, searched for somewhere. He found a kempo dojo on the internet and at 9am headed over there, the traffic wasn't too bad considering that it was Saturday. He walked into the dojo and had a chat with the instructor, just about using the pads, and bags, and the back room for Kata. Why not use his own backyard, because people Mark was respectable. Loonies!
She walked into her morning kempo class, eager to learn a few more moves, and astounded by what, or rather who she saw. Convinced he was stalking her, her eyes were boring holes in his chest; watching mesmerised while he did some kind of kata with two samurai swords. She saw that even the instructor and the whole class were watching. Who the hell was he? She'd ask Edward about doing some serious checks on him later.
He saw Anita Blake walk in, she did not look too happy to see him. Mark had known the kata for almost 900 years. People seem to have stopped to watch, including the instructor. Placing the katana in the scabbard, as part of the form, and drew a kusari which was a weighted chain, and continued.
She saw that he wan't even breathing hard, nobody could maintain that level of exertion! His movements were so fluid, he had to be a shapeshifter and yet everyone she knew had told her he didn't smell like one. Jean-Claude had said he wasn't a vampire either. What was he? Anita saw Mark sheath both both swords and continue with two wakizashi's, this lasted almost five minutes. One was for sure, she did not want to fight him in hand to hand. He was too competent and didn't rate her chances, at least not without cheating. Eventually, she saw the show finish and the instructor approached Mark, awe in his eyes.
"I've never seen such level of skill. Can you teach those katas to me?"
"Which one would you prefer to learn" Mark inquired cagily.
"What martial art is that? What grade are you?"
"I have mastered many martial arts. Those kata you saw were ancient Samurai battlefield forms, no longer practiced, unfortunately". This was true, he had trained with Samurai, Yamambushi and the Shaolin Monks. Plus innumerable other arts, he also some of the Italian Saber work truly excellent.
"I see you are a 3rd Dan in Kempo, anything else?"
"A 4th Dan in judo"
"Interesting mix, judo is too easily countered though"
"By the time they've grabbed you it's too late" he replied
"Three words really. Drop your hips. Additionally, if you poke them in the eyes or throat, they stop trying to throw you. Usually around that time you beat them to death"
"Would you demonstrate?" And off we went with me teaching the class judo counters. The really advanced counter no one got. You have to become water like, and flow away from the grab allowing them to overbalance. It sounds easy when explained, but difficult to do-trust me on this. Mark then switched to some really violent street stuff, and explained how judo really works in a fight. Some got it, some didn't. Although he suspected Anita didn't like him much, she was wary. That was good. He had a shower at the end of the class, and got changed and left to meet Marie.
Marie was sitting at a table waiting, wearing a short cream skirt with matching jacket, and a red silk blouse, and brown designer shoes, she really does earn a lot. Mark walked up to her, "Sorry I'm late" and we both sat down. She looked absolutely stunning. Being an immortal we do keep people at 'arms length', and do not tell ours secrets readily. Marie, had lots of friends, but no family. An only child, and her family had died in a car accident when she was little. Determined not to grow up in poverty, she got herself a good education and a good job.
There was one thing, or rather two things that were annoying Mark, number one was that he kept running into Anita everywhere he went, and number two; he was still unable to make anti-vamp rounds, but the search continued. The hollow point silver nitrate were easy, and Mark got distracted by his mobile which was vibrating; the Kempo instructor had left a voicemail requesting Mark to teach again tomorrow and to show some more of the kata. Mark was quite happy to 'pass' these on, it had been a long time since he'd had a student, human or preternatural. A few hundred years ago Mark used to train with some Japanese monks that used to run two marathons a day for two weeks to understand their own mortality. In retrospect, they were nuts, they had only one life and sought to destroy it. Many did.
This 'train of thought' got Mark thinking, it had been a while since he'd had a good run. So when he got home, changed clothes and went for a short run, about twenty miles just to clear his head.
Another week passed, and nothing really happened and it was time to make for Mark to try yto 'make friends', and being quite isolated did not sit well. At home he had all kinds of back up; here none. No one at all. Waiting until nightfall, he went to Guilty Pleasures, unarmed.
"I'm going to need to search you" the vamp doorman explained and knowing there was no other choice, Mark allowed it.
After they had finished the search, he was free to enter. Walking around the club, Mark decided to get a beer and noticed out of the corner of his eye, Marie was in there with some friends. Not wanting to make it seem that he was following her, wandered the opposite way towards Jean-Claudes' office. He could sense that Anita and Jean-Claude was in there, and from the sounds they were having very loud sex. Mark could feel waves of magic emanating from the room; and did not want to interrupt any sexual magic, especially as he didn't want to get drawn in.
He waited till all the moaning, and in her case screaming subsided; and then another minute on top of that and opened the door. "I hope I didn't catch either of you at an all together inopportune time, if you'll pardon my pun" Mark said sardonically. They were almost dressed. Jean-Claude was completely compus mentis, and Anita reached straight for her gun. He ignored her gun, and sat down.
"Don't fucking move, or I will kill you" and Mark raised his hands in a comforting 'I don't want any trouble' sort of gesture.
"I didn't come here to fight"
"So what did you come for?" asked Jean-Claude in those silken tones.
"I presume you have guessed or made some assumptions about me?" he said, looking at Jean-Claude.
"Yes" he replied.
"Such as?"
"If we told you what would be the point? If what you said is true you could easily destroy us" spoke Jean-Claude in tones so soft and silky, yet so sharp they could cut like glass.
"It wasn't. So humour me, and I might just be able to offer you a gift"
"What could you possibly offer me? I want to know whose servant you are, it is considered a declaration of war to openly walk into my territory like this"
"Let's get this straight" Mark answered and began to stand.
"Sit down or I will shoot you" said Anita. Mark could see all the tension leaving her body as she exhaled; and all trace of emotion.
"Shooting me in the head won't do it I'm afraid" he said and stopped concealing his Quickening and power any longer.
Anita gasped in shock, as she sensed Marks' true level of power, and both her and Jean-Claude stumbled, taken unawares, both grabbing the desk to stay upright.
"I am no ones servant. Now JC I believe we need to talk". Slowly his power stopped flowing over her and Jean-Claude, and it dawned that she had almost dropped the firestarter.
"Who are you?" he answered. Anita could see and feel that Jean-Claude was shaken, and saw small sparks of electricity arc around the office. Who or what was he? Never had either seen such power, except maybe in Mr Oliver, but he was over a million years old. She wondered whether even Belle Morte possessed this level of power, but she must have. Dismissing those thoughts, what kind of being could do this?
"The answer is Jean-Claude I am alone here. No friends really, or family and I very much need allies or friends" Mark said, emphasized the last bit.
"Why do we need you" replied Anita.
"Because I believe my blood will give Jean-Claude what he has always wanted. To be a daywalker" There was almost a 'pregnant' pause, before he spoke again.
"It is not possible, sadly" replied Jean-Claude. If Mark were human, or under 250 years old he would almost feel like crying as Jean-Claude's power crashed over him. Fortunately he wasn't and it had no effect.
"It is actually. You see my blood has certain properties. Should you drink my blood, you will be a new man."
"I could just shoot you, and let Jean-Claude drink from your dead body, whatever you are" said Anita still her pointing a gun at me.
"You would never hit me with a bullet from that pistol, ever, but feel free to try Anita", and he took a step forward. Mark heard her tendons tense in her arm, and saw the flutter of her metacarpals before she even fired. Just a slight rotation and of his body as the bullet passed. Missed! He wasn't actually
dodging the bullet, just the point at which the gun was pointed. "Jean-Claude" Mark said with a sense of urgency, "this isn't helping my good intentions".
The likelehood of her hitting were minimal, but it was beginning to piss him off. Mark really didn't want to fight tonight.
"Ma petit, stop, please. Let us just hear him out" as her gun coughed again, the shot missed a second time, and a third. Each miss and Mark closed the distance, eventually grabbing her hand in a lock while simultaneously twisting the the gun over so the the magazine flipped out. Using the thumb of his other hand to knock the bullets onto the floor, he removed the gun from her and re-inserted the magazine, the weapon now useless. Mark suspected the reason Jean-Claude had not intervened was that he was being evaluated, for his inentions and sincerity not to fight. She was reaching for another weapon, will she ever stop? Mark used the 'voice' with a compulsion "Sit down".
Anita did not know how he'd dodged the bullets, or what lock he'd used, only that it hurt and refused to lose this fight under any circumstances. She heard him say something to her, and she just sat down like a dog. Her mind fought whatever was happening, but her body obeyed. Even Jean-Claude seemed bemused by this.
Mark took out a small pocket knife and cut his arm open with a quick movement of the blade. He made sure it was deep. "Watch" Mark urged. "Have you ever seen this before?"
Both Jean-Claude and Anita saw the wound heal quicker than any Lycanthrope or vampire, with a couple of sparks of electricity.
"I have never seen anyone heal in that manner, how?"
"I am what you would call a 'Living Vampire', in that my heart always beats, I can walk in daylight without harm. I can even eat real food. Although I am not sure you would gain all of those benefits, except daywalking. Interested?" Mark didn't want to give them too much information yet, not to mention the other other peculiarity yet. Keep them off balance in any manipulation and the truth or any semblence of it would come later. He wasn't going to tell them everything straight away? Fat chance!
"Why should I not take it from you?"
"Do you think you can Jean-Claude? When you come into your power that's it from what I understand. Besides, this offer is for you only, no one else not even the Council"
Anita could almost see Jean-Claudes' lips salivate at the thought, and slowly she began to stand. Slowly Mark offered his wrist to Jean-Claude for him to drink from.
"Just a pint or two Jean-Claude, a taster, should you decide to accept my offer".
"Don't. He could be lying" Anita urged, her mind working furiously trying to find an angle. Why would he want to be friendly now? Her last conversation with Edward hadn't gone well, as it seemed the strangers story semed to be partially true, there really was no record of him. Unless there was something else? It did seem too good to be true, and she knew what usually happened then.
"Will your blood heal burns from holy water" asked Jean-Claude.
"I don't know, probably why? Is there someone else you would choose have my gift"
"A friend of mine lost much and it has caused friction in our friendship"
"Shall we try you first and take it from there?" The animator watched in horror as Jean-Claude reached for his wrist to drink.
Damn his grip was strong, as Mark felt him drink. His body was preparing to restore any lost blood. Even so, such a healing is not without cost and Mark would need rest or lots of food, most likely both.
"Jean-Claude?" Anita gasped as she watched the Master of the City swoon. Mark caught Jean-Claude, concern on his features as he clutched his chest
"Let him go" Anita said and picked up the knife.
"If he can survive daylight, will that assure you my good intentions?"
"If he dies" she started to threaten.
"Anita, It doesn't really matter if I could beat Jean-Claude and several others in a fight. We all know that the number of preternaturals you can send against me will sign my death warrant. I don't want that" Hopefully he might to live a little bit longer.
"Why should I or any others trust you? Why the games?"
"If I'd have come in here sooner, and told you the truth as you hear it. What then, you'd totally believe me? Trust me?"
"It would have helped" Anita replied, her anger rising again, doubt in her voice. Jean-Claude was recovering and able to stand unaided.
"No ma petit, he is right. If someone of his power had walked in here like he did, it would've ended badly"
"We had to jump through a few hoops. Then hopefully you won't set dozens of lycanthropes and other vampires on my ass, and I might just get to see tomorrow alive and in one peace"
"Maybe" Anita replied, "Just maybe".
