Author's Notes: It occurred to me that I might need to set a few minds at ease. While it is helpful to have seen Poltergeist: The Legacy, it isn't strictly necessary, especially since this story is set nearly fifteen years after its last episode. I don't believe anyone will be lost when we deal with the Legacy characters, but if anyone is confused or if you have questions, please don't hesitate to ask. If you're wondering about it, the chances are good that someone else is as well. I realized this weekend that DragonCon is only fifty-plus days out, so I need to get my hiney in gear and get my gifts for the actors ordered or made, as well as put final touches on one of my costumes. Oh, and I need to add the names of my roomies to my hotel reservations. D'oh (pulls at hair). Okay, in this first chapter, Anne arrives in San Francisco and reluctantly goes to the aid of someone in need; new friend Katherine Corrigan reflects on this new person in her life; while a sinister deal is struck.
Chapter One
Tabula Rasa
Entrance to Fisherman's Wharf
San Francisco, CA
May 2013
He hadn't come. The words kept repeating themselves in her head, over and over. She'd seen the way he looked at her, felt the intensity when he kissed her, and he hadn't come. During the flight, she put that rage, that grief, away to focus on other things. Such as, what she would do in San Francisco, who she would be. Anne chose her second favorite persona, that of Sabine du Berry. She exemplified the phrase, 'tough but tender,' and who Anne wanted to be right now. She was free of Richelieu, free of Athos (but she didn't want to be free of Athos, they were bound to one another, just as she told him) … she was a clean slate. Tabula rasa, she thought and smirked to herself. But there was no joy in the expression. She truly thought … it didn't matter. Whatever she thought, she was wrong, and she would never forgive Athos for that.
She hiked her backpack a little higher on her shoulders as she rose to her feet to exit the streetcar, grimacing when the motion tugged on her hair. Dammit, that hurt! She should have pulled her hair into a ponytail or put it in a bun while she was in the ladies room at the airport … or the Ferry Building. It didn't matter … she was almost to Fisherman's Wharf, and she would decide what to do from there. Lunch first … find a place to stay, so she could get some rest. Of course, her luck was never that good. As she began to wander through Fisherman's Wharf, she heard someone saying angrily, "I told you before to leave me alone … now back off, before I make you!" At first, Anne was going to ignore it … it wasn't any of her business, and she was done trying to help other people. And then, she heard her own voice, lying about Ninon de Larroque for the unpardonable sin of finding Anne's husband attractive. She saved Adele … but she tried to ruin Ninon's life. Did one good deed balance out the (attempted) destruction of other lives?
With a frustrated groan, Anne reversed course, heading in the direction of the raised voice. It belonged to a pretty young woman, she discovered, maybe five or ten years younger than herself, facing off with a much larger, and very menacing-looking, man. She looked more angry than scared, but Anne thought the odds weren't in the girl's favor. Especially when the man snorted, "You? Make me? Little girl, Nick Boyle may have helped to raise you, but he's not here now. And even if he was, well …" The young woman's slim body went rigid at those words, and her hands curled into fists at her sides. Anne considered her strategy. Brute force wouldn't take this man down. Being sneaky? That would definitely tilt the odds in their favor.
"I think you'll find that I wasn't raised by Nick Boyle … and I am here," Anne answered coolly, even as she launched a kick at the back of the man's knee. Her balance was only thrown off a little by the back-pack hanging from her shoulders … indeed, its weight gave her kick a little more force. He yelped, and the young woman surged forward with a kick to his groin, followed by one to his throat. He went down like the proverbial sack of potatoes, and the girl grabbed Anne's hand, saying breathlessly, "C'mon!"
Anne ran at her side willingly, racing onto the ferry she was to, cursing under her breath the whole way. She was already tired from the long flight (and equally long layover). Damn Athos … he had infected her with his do-gooder impulses! It wasn't her business, what happened to this girl, but … But she could remember too many times when no one came to her rescue when she was a child, far younger than this girl. And, much to her horror, she realized that she hadn't gone to this girl's rescue for Athos' sake, but for her own. Damn. That was even worse. What the hell was happening to her? The girl reminded her of Tamsyn … that had to be it. There was no other explanation for intervening in something that had nothing to do with her. Or maybe she could plead extreme exhaustion? That had to be it … she was utterly exhausted and not thinking clearly. Or not thinking at all.
At last, after zig-zagging through what seemed like hundreds of lost-looking tourists, the pair arrived in what looked like a small stateroom. Or whatever the living room was called on one of these things. The girl collapsed onto a davenport, taking Anne with her as she murmured, "Something needs to done about him before someone gets hurt." She opened her eyes and smiled at Anne wearily, saying, "Thank you. I probably could have taken him, but I'm glad I didn't have to. I'm Kat Corrigan. I hope you don't mind, but we're on the ferry to Angel Island, where I live." Two things stuck out to Anne as she caught her breath and glanced around … whatever the hell this was. One, Kat Corrigan's assertion that she probably could have taken the goon. Really? In what reality did she live? On the other hand, she had no idea what 'raised by Nick Boyle' meant. Two, she thanked Anne, rather than rejecting her help. Considering Anne still couldn't figure out why she got involved … hell. She didn't know how she felt about that. Scratch that, she didn't know how she felt about any of this.
That could be the only explanation for the next words out of her mouth, as she answered, "I'm Anne de Brueil." She froze as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She meant to say, 'Sabine du Berry,' she chose that name already … why would she give this girl what she regarded as her true name? But Kat Corrigan only smiled as she relaxed against the cushions, and Anne realized something else that didn't make sense. She looked around once more, this time asking, "Why didn't he follow us onto the ferry … and why didn't we need tickets?"
"Two questions, one answer … I'm the director of the Derek Rayne Foundation, and I own the Ferry. Well, sort of … it actually belongs to the Foundation," Kat Corrigan answered. Anne closed her mouth with a snap, looking around herself. If it belonged to this Foundation, did that mean all the people on it worked for the Foundation? The woman she rescued went on, "The ferry is only used to take people to the Island for a tour of the Castle. That man? He's the head of security for one of our sister organizations. He doesn't like our director, and he really doesn't like the fact that someone who grew up in the organization was picked to head the Foundation."
There was a lot Kat Corrigan wasn't saying, but Anne found she didn't care. For now, she was safe and Kat Corrigan might be able to help her start a new life. Well, there was one, teensy detail that confused her. As she caught her breath, she asked, "The director of what? You said you're the director of this Foundation … who is the director you're referring to? And what kind of ferry is this?" It didn't matter why she intervened, Anne realized as she got more comfortable … it didn't even matter that there was no one to intervene for her when she'd been a helpless child. What mattered was that this woman was far more than she first appeared … and Anne could do with an ally.
"Right, sorry. I'm the director of the Derek Rayne Foundation, which is a branch of the Luna Foundation. Nick Boyle is the head of the Luna Foundation … that's the director I mentioned. And Nick didn't help to raise me … he was more like another older brother, he and Philip both. Derek … he was more like my dad than Nick was. And I did say this was a special kind of ferry," Kat answered. Hmm. Interesting. So she had. Kat glanced at her more fully, asking, "So, were you hiking across country or did you fly here?" Hiking … across country? The look she gave Kat must have said everything she wanted to, because the younger woman laughed, adding, "Understood. Well, you can stay at the House, it's the least I owe you. Just let me text Nick, let him know … and then I'll text Mom."
This was said with more than a hint of exasperation, but Anne ignored it. She was exhausted … the adrenaline rush was bottoming out, the jet lag was starting to really hit, this part of the ferry was toasty warm, and the hurt over Athos' final betrayal was threatening to choke her. She fought against her exhaustion even now, because she wasn't safe. She didn't know this woman, didn't trust her. But she kept falling, kept listing sideways into the other woman … and nearly missed Kat saying softly, "But first, I'll take care of you." Even as Anne was trying to protest … she didn't need anyone to take care of her, dammit … the younger woman was maneuvering her downward, until Anne's head rested on a cushion. As sleep began to tug her under, she also heard Kat hissing, "I don't know who you are, or what you want, but you leave her alone!" And that was when she saw the shadow that wore her face. The shock followed her into unconsciousness and would unsettle her dreams.
14AA41
Luna Foundation Ferry from San Francisco to Angel Island
The woman even now sleeping beside Dr. Katherine Corrigan (PhD, not MD, thank you very much … in this respect, she was far more Derek Rayne's daughter than Rachel Corrigan's) … she was familiar in a way, although Kat knew for a fact that they'd never met before. Whether it was the way she so desperately fought off sleep, though she was clearly exhausted … or her reluctance to come to Kat's aid back at the Wharf, not wanting to get involved … there was something about her that Kat knew, something that she recognized. And it was driving her crazy. Still, she had to let Nick know that she was on her way back with the tourists. It wasn't the plan to get stuck with that idiot Ryder, but she'd done a last minute sweep, to make sure no one was being left behind. It was a carryover from her days as a chaperone at her college's daycare center and a habit she couldn't seem to break.
Kat once more glanced down at the woman who called herself 'Anne,' noting the way her brow furrowed, and looked next at the shade smirking at her. She had no idea who that woman was … Kat had never heard of a person's darkness separating from the main body, although just to be thorough, she'd call Philip later. Even so, she was sure that the shade was something else … was someone else, though she closely resembled Anne.
That would have to wait. The shade began to dissipate, and Kat turned her attention to her cell phone, texting, 'On my way back, bringing tourists plus one. Ran into Ryder. Remind me why I can't drop-kick him?' She hit 'send,' and then sent a far less detailed text to her mother. She would see her mother soon enough and be scolded for her work with the Legacy, never mind that the Legacy had been in her blood since she was eight years old. She didn't believe in destiny, but she did believe in the work they did. The Legacy was comprised of human beings, as flawed as they were … but that didn't make their mission any less real.
In truth, Mom had never recovered from Derek's death, nearly fifteen years earlier. It took Kat a long time to heal as well, losing her surrogate father only four years after her actual father. But Mom … it hit Mom far harder. Maybe because she was a little in love with Derek and never admitted it to herself; Kat didn't know. She just knew that as the years passed, her mother's bitterness toward the Legacy grew, to the point that she didn't speak to Kat for a full year after Kat announced her decision to accept Nick's formal invitation. The estrangement had hurt deeply … for a year after Dad and Connor died, she and her mother had only each other. Maybe that was part of the problem.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she grinned to herself, reading Nick's response, 'Here and waiting for you, KitKat … leave drop-kicking to me, am less likely to injure my foot. Be safe, kiddo.' She sent back a text telling him that she was always careful (far more careful than Nick was, especially when she first met him), before sending a text to Philip. She hadn't seen the Legacy priest in nearly five years. He returned to San Francisco briefly for the dedication of the Derek Rayne Foundation, and seeing him then nearly broke Kat's heart. He looked tired … so tired. But his smile for her was as warm as it always was. He wasn't the handsome young priest she'd first met, and she wasn't the little girl he remembered, but they still found a way to be friends. More than that, he ignored her mother's obvious disdain for him. But Philip loved Derek, as they all did, and while the contempt Kat's mother felt for him was obvious, just as obvious was Alex's affection for him.
Kat shook herself … it was a long time since she thought about the dedication of the Foundation. She glanced at the sleeping woman beside her. Anne de Brueil … if that was actually her name. What was her story? Only time would tell. For now, Kat returned her attention to the speech she would give once they arrived on the Island and back at the castle. Nick already told her that he sent a bus for the tourists. She caught the eye of Rieda, her tour guide, who came into the former movie/tv lounge (which Kat now used as a personal lounge). The other woman nodded reassuringly ... the tourists were all fine. Kat relaxed and returned her attention to the notes on her phone, distracted briefly when an answering text from her mother came through. She sighed, reading the message, and shook her head. She wasn't even thirty years old, but from the time she was seven years old, she found herself being the adult for her mother. For some reason, it bothered her far more as a grown woman than it did when she was a child. Maybe that was why she missed Derek so much … one reason at least.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the shade wearing Anne's face emerge once more and Kat raised her head to challenge the shadow. She isn't yours, Kat thought, remembering Derek challenging her great-grandfather when she was a child. She is free, and you can't have her! The shadow merely smirked at her, and Kat 'heard' it say … in French, 'we'll see about that, child … she is mine. Derek Rayne stood against Joshua Cantwell. You cannot stand against me.' Like she said … they would just see about that!
14AA41
Unknown Location
Approximately same time
"Do you know, your girl is quite annoying? Actually, both of them are … although, the head shrinker's daughter is being much, much more annoying at the moment. And don't look at me that way, I've learned a few bits of modern slang whilst I've been keeping you company. By the way, you're about to lose that game."
"Am I? Am I about to lose this game, or am I tricking you into thinking that I'm about to commit a serious blunder? And as to my girl … she is no such thing. As I told you when you tried to claim her, she is free to make her own choices, just as her mother was, just as her mother did," was the response. It was a curious encounter … the warrior for light playing chess while the force for evil watched in silence. Well … most of the time.
"You're a curious being … such faith in someone who has done nothing to merit it," the force for evil taunted, and her opponent raised an eyebrow, a small smile appearing on his face. He was well into his sixties, but even by her standards, he was still a handsome man. Of course, she was also his ancestress, but that never stopped her before. She had entirely too much fun with his father until that particular descendent was released from Hell by his child's sacrifice … something she reminded her light-side companion every chance she got.
That same companion said now, "She has done much to merit it. I know she stands balanced on a knife's edge. She, and she alone, must determined to which side she'll fall. And yes, I do have faith in her, that she'll make the right choice. In fact, I have so much faith in her that I will make you a wager … no matter how much you push her to join you, she'll choose light and love over hatred and resentment." He was uncomfortably aware that he was in danger of playing God here. And if a certain priest of his acquaintance could hear him now … but no, he was safe, and safely unaware of the truth. Enough damage was done to that man's life. He would not add to it.
"A wager, is it? You truly believe that one with so much resentment and so much anger toward those who have failed her will topple toward the light, even if you don't intervene and I do? Oh, challenge accepted! There's faith, Derek Rayne, and then there is pure foolishness. If you believe I cannot tempt her to the dark side, much as the self-styled Lady Darkness once tempted your Alex Moreau, then you truly are foolish. However … if you're willing to play chess with your daughter's very soul, then who am I to argue? Done."
"You've not heard my stipulations yet," the not-as-dead-as-everyone-thought Derek Rayne answered coolly, trying to ignore the burgeoning pain in his shoulder. In the nearly fifteen years since he blew up his House, the same House where he and his sister grew up, he healed from the injuries he sustained in that explosion, but remained hidden away from those he loved … for the most part. His ancestress arched a brow mockingly, and the former precept went on, "Only one stipulation, really … if you fail, you leave her alone. You leave her husband alone, and you leave their son alone. No harm is to come to any of them. Agreed?"
There was a small pout, and then the shade answered, "Oh, very well … not that it makes much of a difference, because she will choose me. She will choose me, and then we will make that ex-husband of hers suffer." Derek didn't bother pointing out that his daughter was still legally married (since she never signed the divorce papers). Instead, he eyed his ancestress meaningfully, because she still hadn't agreed to his terms. And while he was gambling with the soul of his daughter (to say nothing of the lives of his son-in-law and grandson), he wasn't about to leave this shade any wiggle room. She glared at him, snarling, "Agreed."
"Zeer goot. Oh, and Milady? Checkmate," Derek observed, nodding to the chess set. Her face twisted with rage, and she vanished. Derek sank back against his chair. As ever, these encounters with his mother's distant ancestress left him shaking and shaken. But it was worst this time. He all but dared her to turn his only child to the dark, following in the footsteps of her grandfather. True, Winston Rayne only strayed a bit, but it was just enough to land him in hell for a few decades. He breathed, "Forgive me, Anne." He had no idea if he could forgive himself, though. Only time would tell.
TBC
Additional Author's Notes: I hadn't planned on making any of these revelations until much, much later in the story, but I was overruled by both Anne and Derek. Yes, despite the beliefs of most of his people, Derek Rayne is alive, though he was badly injured in the explosion he detonated to protect the world. And yes, he is Anne's father (who her mother is, and why Anne was abandoned, is yet to come). Also yes … he is descended from Mordaunt through his mother Barbara, making him a descendent of Milady 1.0. Finally, 'zeer goot' is Dutch for 'very good,' Derek's other main language.